#bind both those boys or so help me—

[rat-gonzo]

Scrolling through the supernatural tag, whispering to myself “are you a homophobia?” Every time I see Trans!Dean and Cis!Sam

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[rxzennia]

oral sex

✎𓂃 in the case of aventurine receiving

“stay still,” you whisper as your lips wrap around his tip, “move and i’ll leave you like this.”

you’re so cruel, damn it! aventurine groans, struggling against his binds, but all he gets are the sounds of the handcuffs clanging against his chair. he tries to buck his hips, but you keep him on the chair with your hands on his thighs.

“shh, relax.” you coo, pulling away and licking your lips before you put on a show of swirling your tongue around his rock-hard cock, from the top to the base, “patience is a virtue.”

“you, ngh, you try being patient!” aventurine hisses, trying once again to grind against your face for some friction, “i can’t, please… please, please?”

he hates the way he begs for you, hates the way you make him so needy that he doesn’t care how pitiful he becomes, hates how he’s so willing to be weak around you. he’d die before he allowed anyone to put him in handcuffs, but he’s more than happy to be put in a pair of fluffy cuffs for you.

you glance at his face, take in the way his drool drips off his chin and the way his mouth hangs open, and you grin mischievously. you want to turn him into even more of a mess. you want to take him to heaven and beyond.

you wrap your fingers around his cock gently and rub it against your face, along your nose, licking it until you put the tip on your lips. “ready?” you ask, peering up at him with half-lidded eyes, and you don’t wait for a response before you take him into your mouth all the way to the base.

“oh, ohh, dear,” aventurine’s reaction is immediate, his beautiful eyes rolling to the back of his head as he arches off the chair. “please, please, more…!”

he oozes precum, you can taste it from the sudden stickiness on your tongue. “you taste so good…” you mumble, your words garbled from how he filled up your mouth. you let go of his thighs, a lazy grin on your lips as you happily gagged on his cock, “mm, fuck into me,” you purr, grinding your hips against the floor as your own arousal hikes with every little noise aventurine makes.

if you’ve gone as far as to asking outright, who is he to deny you? he doesn’t hesitate to rut his hips into your face, shoving his cock deep into your throat. “you’re so tight, mmh,” he whimpers as he can’t help but move faster, “so warm, so hot,” he pants, as he tries to move his hands again, he wants so desperately to grab you by your hair and use your mouth, but those damn cuffs are still in the way, so he whines again, “baby, please, take off the cuffs?”

you look at him, at how his face is already blissed out, and you chuckle. you’re feeling mean, but you also want to prioritize aventurine’s pleasure. you have a short debate with yourself, your mind already so clouded with lust that you can’t think straight anymore, and you think, why not both?

in no world would aventurine expect you to reach for lube of all things. you’re giving him the most mind-blowing head he’s ever received in his entire life, and you’re lubing up your fingers? all the while fiddling with his handcuffs with one hand and finally freeing his hands?

he immediately buries his hand in your hair and tugs on it, slowly pulling you onto his cock and pushing you back, repeating until he realizes you’re letting him do whatever he wants. you blink up at him, and he smirks; are you waiting for him to choke you? damn sure he won’t say no to that.

“mmh!” you moan around him; he’s going so rough, so deep, and you feel like you’ll taste him for days to come, but you’re not about to complain, “yes, like that, ngh, hngh…!”

while he fucks your throat like a fleshlight, your slick fingers hover over his ass, tapping and circling his hole tentatively. you wait until his thrusts grow frantic before you slowly ease a finger into him, and boy, you’ll never forget his scream.

“eeep! d-dear, what are you–” aventurine cuts himself off with a loud cry as you curl your finger into his ass. he lifts his hips up, hoping to get away from that foreign feeling, but he ends up feeling your throat constrict around his cock, so he pulls back, and he ends up fucking himself on your fingers. he’s doomed, cornered wherever he’ll go, “ah-aaugh, dear, please, please…! i can’t take this!”

you raise a brow, waiting for his safeword, but you never hear it. instead, you feel a stream of thick, hot cum in your mouth. you slap the side of his thigh, but you don’t punish him. he’s feeling good, after all. he’s cumming so hard, so much into your throat, and gods, it’s making you feel hot. “haah, mh,” you sigh shakily as you’re essentially forced to swallow, the taste of his desire for you driving you nearly insane.

you smirk and gently slip another finger in, scissoring and thrusting languidly as he rides out his orgasm in your mouth. his hands slide towards your face and wipes away your sweat, your drool, and they rest on the base of your neck as he slows down.

when your fingers hit his prostate, you feel him get hard all over again, and you shudder. how much stamina does this man have? you move off of his cock, sucking only on his tip, but he bites his lip and shoves himself into your throat again. you groan loudly, and as retaliation you pull your fingers out, and shove them back in knuckle-deep, pressing against his sensitive spot precisely.

aeons, you’re abusing his prostate, and he’s abusing your mouth, and it all feels so good. “mmh, i’m, i’m going to…!” aventurine mewls, his hips rolling between your fingers and your face, “don’t stop, ugh, don’t stop!”

you choke on his cock when he loses his pace, and you stop thrusting your fingers altogether, instead insistently pressing on his prostate. “gah, eugh, hnngh,” you moan, every little vibration from you sending him closer and closer to the edge, “good boy, cum for me, hm?” you manage to get out, and you can see aventurine’s brain short circuit.

he holds your head in place, his cum shooting straight down your throat. you whine, your entire body shaking and your eyes rolling back as you’re overwhelmed by his pleasure. his ass tightens and spasms around your fingers, and you milk his prostate a little more before finally pulling out.

you’ve made a mess between your legs, too, and you can only hope that he doesn’t notice.

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: first date, first kiss, very slight angst | written for the stwg daily prompt kiss in the rain)

Today has to be perfect, Eddie vows as he parks his van in the Harrington's driveway.

Because today Eddie is taking Steve out on their first date.

Frankly, he has no idea how he managed to get a date with the Steve Harrington. Even more, he has no idea how someone as beautiful and kind and sweet and funny as Steve would want to go out with someone like him.

It certainly helps that they saved the world together and share many, many traumas, as well as some horrible scars that tell the story of everything they've been through.

Eddie wants to believe that's not all that binds them, that the months they've spent growing closer over shared custody of Steve's six nuggets, movie nights, and long hours spent smoking and talking on top of the Munsons' new trailer have a lot to do with it, too.

But Eddie also knows that the Eddie of a year ago would have scoffed at the idea of going out with King Steve. Just like that Steve wouldn't have gone out with the town freak.

Which is why Eddie needs today to be a success.

Today has to be perfect.

As he rings the bell, his heart beats wildly in his chest and sweat forms on his palms.

Steve answers the door with a smile that makes Eddie's knees weak. "Hey," he says, and Eddie's mind blanks for a moment. Steve's wearing those jeans, the ones that look like they're painted on, showing off his legs and...other parts. And he has them paired with a striped polo shirt that is not supposed to look as good as it does.

"Hey," Eddie replies, finally finding his voice. "You ready for a day full of adventure?"

Steve grins and nods, stepping out and closing the door behind him. "Lead the way. As long as there are no monsters to fight, I'm game."

Eddie's plan is simple: a picnic in an empty field he found a few weeks ago, but first some good old-fashioned ball throwing to indulge Steve's love of sports. It's no secret that Eddie hates sports, but he's willing to make an exception for Steve. He often feels that Steve is the one indulging the kids, Robin, or even himself, because except for Lucas, none of their friends enjoy sports, either playing or watching.

So Eddie wants to show Steve that his hobbies and interests are important too, and that Eddie can try to be as involved in them as Steve is in his.

They drive to the field with music blasting, a mix tape that Eddie has made especially for this occasion, a perfect blend of his and Steve's taste in music, and he feels a little more at ease as Steve sings along, off-key and carefree. When "Somebody To Love" comes on, Steve playfully nudges him with his elbow and Eddie joins him as they both sing along, grinning broadly.

"Did you bring me here to murder me and get rid of the body, Munson?" Steve jokes at the sight of the empty field and Eddie lets out a theatrical cackle.

"Afraid I'm going to have my way with you, Harrington?"

Heat pools in his stomach at the smile Steve gives him in response.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Deciding on a hasty retreat before he does something embarrassing like whimper, Eddie climbs out of the van and goes to the back, pulling out an old baseball and a pair of gloves.

"Thought we could start with this," Eddie says, holding up the ball to Steve, who has followed him to the back of the van.

Steve's eyes light up at the sight. "You remembered."

As if Eddie could ever forget all the secrets and stories Steve had shared with him, while the stars above them were the only witnesses to some of the best moments of Eddie's life.

Steve had told him how he had always loved baseball as a little boy, and how his father had sometimes taken him to games. Looking back, Steve said he probably loved his father's attention and time more than the sport itself, but for whatever reason, it had been his first great love. He collected all the cards and knew everything there was to know about stats and players and rules. All he wanted was to be a player.

When he tried out at school, he didn't make the team. It was only years later that Steve found out why he had trouble hitting the ball with his bat: he had impaired vision, something his parents never bothered with, so he was never examined. At the time, he believed it was because he wasn't good enough, a failure. His dad seemed to think the same thing, because after he didn't make the team, he never took Steve to games again.

Steve hadn't played since, so Eddie figured it was time to help Steve have some good memories of baseball again.

Eddie shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, figured you'd like it."

They toss the ball back and forth, Steve coaching Eddie on his form, laughing when Eddie fumbles a catch. They're both having fun, and Eddie starts to relax, thinking maybe this date won't be a disaster after all.

But then Eddie misjudges a throw, and the ball smacks him right on the forehead. He stumbles back, more surprised than hurt, but his confidence takes a hit.

"Shit, Eddie, you okay?" Steve rushes over, concern etched on his face.

Eddie laughs it off, though his heart sinks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just my luck, huh?"

Steve looks relieved but still worried. "Maybe we should take a break."

Eddie nods, feeling like he's already ruined things. He wonders why he thought it was a good idea to throw a ball with an ex-jock when he failed gym class more than once. So much for giving Steve a good baseball memory.

Still, he trudges over to the van to get everything they need for the picnic he has planned. The delighted smile on Steve's face at the sight of the basket and the blanket under Eddie's arm makes him think that maybe all is not lost. But just as he spreads out the blanket and unloads the food he's prepared, he glances up at the sky and sees dark clouds gathering. Still, he clings to the hope that they can finish before the rain comes.

Eddie should have known better. Luck and he have only been acquaintances at the best of times.

Just as they're settling in, the first raindrop falls, then another, and within seconds, it's pouring.

Eddie's heart sinks. This day was supposed to be perfect, and now it's a mess. "I'm so sorry, Steve. This was supposed to be perfect and now —"

Steve cuts him off with a bright laugh, his hair plastered to his forehead, rain running down his face. "Eddie, it's fine. Really."

Eddie looks at him, confused. "But the rain, and the ball, and—"

Steve steps closer, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. "I don't care about any of that. I care about you. You did so much for me today, Eddie." And before Eddie can respond, Steve kisses him.

It's a soft, lingering kiss that makes Eddie forget about the rain, the ball, and everything else. When they pull apart, Steve's smiling. "This is perfect, Eddie."

Eddie laughs, feeling lighter than he has all day. "Yeah, it kinda is."

As they pack up the picnic in the pouring rain, Eddie realizes that maybe perfection isn't about everything going right. Maybe it's about finding the right moments, even in the midst of chaos, with the right person.

[radiance1]

Something inspired by this post and this song.

Danny blinked as everything around him seemed to pause. Mist escaping past his lips and he looked at the still branch outside of the window.

Hands rested over his shoulders. "My dearest child." Clockwork's spoke from behind him, and Danny stilled. "Won't you join? We can get you out this little predicament binding you by human law."

"No." Danny huffed, resolutely staring out of the window. "I don't want to. You made me try so hard to avoid my bad future, and now you just want me to do something like that?"

"My dear boy," Clockwork flew in front of him, cupping Danny's face in gentle hands. "Your alternate future destroyed this world and as such, the Observants wanted you dead. It would have been unfair for you to be killed for a mere possible future."

Danny scoffed. "You only interfered because you saw a future with me with at your side." Danny scowled, wanting to pull back from Clockwork's hands but found that he couldn't. He scowled a bit more at his body's betrayal, sinking into the touch instead of pulling away.

"I will not lie to you, I had indeed interfered because of such." Clockwork slowly rubbed comforting circles on the boy's cheeks. "But also because you are my child, even if you were then, you would have been eventually. It is a parent's duty to protect their child, is it not?"

Danny wanted to refute that. But the memories of his parent's death at the hands of the GIW for him caused the words to be stuck in his throat. The images of both their and his sister and friend's bodies caused his vision to blur.

He choked down the tears.

"My poor child," Clockwork rested his forehead against Danny's own, a comforting gesture. "To have faced such cruelty at human hands, and for your own human donor to deny you your grief." Clockwork smiled. "Just let us help you, come to our side and we shall make it all go away."

Danny stayed silent for a moment, a small part of himself feeling guilty over wanting Clockwork's touch but a larger part wanting it anyway. "No." Danny breathed out harshly. "They don't deserve to die just because of that."

They don't.

If he says it enough, it'll stay true.

No matter what happens.

Clockwork leaned back, hands falling from his face and Danny had to force himself not to follow the touch as Clockwork circled behind him.

"I am willing to ask as many times as it takes, for you will join us eventually." Danny hated the certainty in the ghost's tone, but couldn't help but push his head into the hand that patted his head. "A piece of advice, however. War is not as patient as I am."

And with those parting words, Clockwork disappeared. Time resuming at once with Danny still sat on his bed. He flopped onto his back, head hitting the pillows as he turned on his side. He stared at his hands silently, before turning one palm up as ice danced up from his palm, slowly taking shape into lifelike versions of his family.

Alive and happy.

A small smile grew on his face he watched. Fighting against living food that Danny had once disliked.

What he wouldn't give to have it all back.

A knock broke him from his starring, and the ice collapsed in his hand.

"Master Danny?" Alfred's voice came from the other side of the door, causing Danny to frown. "Would you be joining us for lunch?"

Danny wanted to say no. He didn't want to interact with anyone in this stupid family.

Danny hated how he couldn't say no without one of them making it into some kind of problem.

So what if he hasn't eaten in a few days? He would live.

Danny sighed, standing up from his bed and silently staring at the door before he got up. He stared at the bracelet on his wrist for a moment as he grabbed onto the doorknob, the one that limited his power extremely, and opened the door.

He stared up at the pleasantly surprised expression on the butler's face, before looking away as he started to lead him towards the kitchen.

[noblehouseofgay]

fav jegulus headcanon WITH trans Reg?

GASP marry me rn this question is everything!! Literally my two favorite marauders things

I can't pick just one but I'll list a few that I love

- James is always always always prepared with dysphoria care stuff. He always has reg's favorite treats/books/etc ready to go for if he has a bad dysphoria day. Same goes for periods, James is always ready to care for him

- before he got top surgery, James helped him with his chest tape. And then he'd kiss his chest afterwards. But James is very strict about how long reg binds/tapes. He makes sure regulus takes breaks and doesn't bind too long

- james is constantly using masc pet names and terms of endearment. "My handsome boyfriend" "my lovely husband" "my favorite boy" "You're so handsome my darling" everything james can possibly come up with to make sure regulus knows that james sees him as those things

(Slightly nsfw on this last one but I promise it's in a sweet way)

- so with growing up in the house of Black, pleasure was seen as taboo and Regulus never really yk learned a lot. Add testosterone on top of that, Regulus is learning a lot. And James is too, so they work together and find what works the best for everything. They find a balance of what makes them both happy plus learning to keep regulus as not dysphoric as possible

Bonus: sirius and james teamed up to get regulus his first binder. Sirius brought it up to james, James asked effie to help, and they gave it to Regulus for his first Christmas at the potters. It was after all the presents were said and done, sirius and james pulled him aside later and gave it to him privately so he could react however he felt without holding back

[intern-seraph]

forget-me-not (Chp 1)

also on ao3

Summary: For the first time in your seven years alive, you meet someone new in your small town. Little do either of you know that your brief friendship will bind you together long, long after you are forced to part ways.

A/N: hi :)

shoutout to matcha twstjam for being my cheerleader thru this insane, ongoing journey

For those who have been following me on my socials, i'm sorry you know that this fic has been in the works for over a year as of last month. I was originally intending on publishing it only when it was complete, but it very quickly grew way out of hand and I realized that it would definitely not be complete any time soon. Still, I wanted to put it out into the world! So I decided to publish the first chapter! When will the rest come out? Who knows? I certainly don't lol ALSO the presence of forget-me-nots in the actual fic is, at most, debatable lmao i just thought it was a cool and fitting title

Anyways, I have a deep, desperate need for more jewishness in fan content, so I'm filling that dearth myself.

————

You peer out from behind the gnarled oak tree at the edge of the town park. Its trunk is almost half as wide as you are tall, and its boughs are so thick and heavy that the branches droop under their own weight. Once, there was a rope swing that hung from one of the thicker branches. It was destroyed in a storm a few years ago, and nobody has bothered to replace it since. As one of the few children living here, you don’t mind its absence much. After all, you only ever come here to read. Usually you sit on the other side of this very tree, enjoying the shade and the rustling leaves. However, today someone’s taken your spot. The stranger seems to be only a few years older than you, dressed entirely in black. Their clothes shimmer as light filters through the leaves, and you know that the fabric must be fine and expensive. Slivers of their pale skin peek out from the ends of their sleeves and the hem of their robe. It’s a far cry from the homespun woolen garments and rough, sun-kissed skin of your neighbors. The most bizarre thing about them, however, are their spiraling black horns.

You hug your book to your chest, unsure of what to do. You’ve never seen this child before, after all, and you know all of the other kids in town (all four of them, that is). Even worse, you just know that whoever this is must be rich and therefore important. Why are they here, of all places?

“Um…” You tiptoe over the tree’s massive roots and draw closer to the stranger. “Are you from around here?”

The stranger startles, and you yelp as the world burns bright green for a moment. With a grunt, you fall back and land squarely on your butt. You lie there for a second, blinking away the spots in your vision before your throat begins to tighten and tears form at the corners of your eyes. Beside you, the stranger’s blurry face appears. Your sniffling turns into sobs, and you cover your face with both hands as you start crying.

“H-hey,” says the stranger, touching you lightly, “don’t cry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

You wail even louder, rolling onto your side and curling up into a ball. The stranger pats your shoulder stiffly.

“I’m sorry,” they whisper, voice breaking. “Please don’t be scared.”

Finally, your crying peters out. You hiccup as you wipe your tears away on your sleeve. “I-I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say. The stranger remains silent. “That was magic, right? I scared you and you used your magic…”

“That’s okay. Are you hurt?” The stranger extends a hand into your field of view and hauls you up onto your feet with little effort. Now that you can see clearly, you lean closer to examine his face. He’s a boy around your age, you think. His cheeks are round and soft but you can see where his baby fat is starting to recede. His lips curl into a small pout, accentuated by the embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks. You can’t help but gawk at his electric green eyes. They’re so distinct that, without taking his horns into account, their color and slit pupils alone would tell you that he’s not human. When he notices you’re staring, he shifts back in discomfort. You jolt and giggle abashedly.

“No, I’m okay. Uh, who are you? Are you from around here?” You start to circle him, eyeing his odd features with interest. Are those scales crawling up the back of his neck? Why is the back of his robe moving so weirdly?

“No,” he mumbles. He holds something close to his chest. A book! “I’m… from really far away. My grandmother brought me with her to do some —” his nose scrunches up “— official business. But that’s boring so I left.”

“Won’t your grandma be worried?”

He puffs up like a particularly proud pigeon. “Nuh-uh. I’m big and strong so I can take care of myself!” As he speaks, the thing moving under his robe finally lifts enough to reveal itself: a thick, scaly black tail. It swishes from side to side as he practically preens. Cute. “What about you? You’re here all alone!”

“I know everyone here, duh.” You crouch down and pick up your book, then trot over to sit in your usual spot now that it’s empty. The stranger pouts at you, puffing out his cheeks. You turn your nose up at him. “This was my spot first.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. You can sit next to me, I guess.”

He blinks slowly at you, fingers tightening on his book, before he breaks out into a brilliant smile and plops down at your side. You take note of his sharp fangs. Part of you is tempted to touch them, but you restrain yourself well enough. “What’s your name?” asks the stranger.

You give it to him immediately, pausing to spell it out letter-by-letter just to show off. He nods, but when you ask him the same question, he balks.

“Is it okay if I don’t tell you? I don’t wanna… uh…” He waves his hands for emphasis. “I don’t want my grandmother to hear about me.”

“Well then what should I call you?”

“Hmm…” He furrows his brow and scrunches his eyes shut. Then, he gasps and beams at you. “Nickname! You can gimme a nickname!”

“A nickname, huh? How about…” Your voice trails off. You stare at him, pursing your lips. First, you glance up at his horns, then his tail (thumping against one of the oak tree’s roots), then back up at his horns. “Horn…ton? Yeah, Hornton!”

“That sounds weird.”

“Too bad! You’re Hornton now!”

Hornton rolls his eyes. He opens the book in his lap, clearly trying (and failing) to look smart and above-it-all, but you can see the pointed tips of his ears turning red. Giggling, you follow his lead and open your own book. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch his petulant expression melt into contentment while he reads. He’s cute like this. He’s cute in general — which is a thought that makes you want to gag — but you especially like his sweet little smile. Although you were loath to share your spot beneath the tree, he does make for good reading company. That is, he’s quiet and doesn’t take up too much of your personal space. Before you know it, the sun is setting.

You dog-ear your page and nudge Hornton. “Hey, it’s getting late. You should go back to your grandma.” Hornton jolts, but doesn’t react as violently as he did earlier. His tail thuds against the tree trunk.

“Oh, yeah. I gotta go!” He doesn’t move, only fidgeting with his robe. “Uh, thanks for sitting with me.”

“Why’re you thanking me? It’s no problem.” You pause and look away. Feeling your face grow hot, you say, “Will you be back again?”

“C-Can I?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’re a pretty decent reading buddy, so… yeah.”

“Yes! I’ll be back tomorrow!” He smiles so broadly that you think it must hurt.

“Cool! I’ll be here after noon, that’s when our classes are over.” You stand up and start patting your clothes to get rid of any dirt. Then, you turn and give Hornton a grin of your own. “‘S nice meeting you! See ya!”

He waves timidly, eyes wide and almost shimmering. You don’t give it too much thought, you just start sprinting back down the dirt road leading into town.

—

“Mister Crowley!”

You slam the front door open, practically vibrating with excitement. The schoolmaster yelps from further inside your house, then rushes over to greet you. He’s pouting, feathers positively ruffled. Gently, he grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a once-over.

“Now, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I was at the park!” You grin and hold up your book.

Crowley sighs and shakes his head. He wags his finger at you as he starts walking you to the dining room. “Now, child, what have we said about staying out late?”

“Uh… tell you?”

“Indeed! I have been very generous with allowing you free reign of the town! Nevermind all your tchotchkes and trinkets! If you’ll be gallivanting around like this in the future, make sure to inform your very magnanimous guardian beforehand! I was about to send the entire neighborhood out to look for you!”

He probably wasn’t. You know him well enough to know that. But the concern is appreciated. “Sorry,” you say.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Crowley mutters. He pulls out your seat at your little dining table and returns to his own chair. Just at a glance, you can tell that he’d tucked in to his dinner before you came home. As you pick up your fork, a soft little body butts up against your calf. You squeal with delight and duck under the table to scoop up Grim, your bratty street cat. He mrows petulantly, but lets you cuddle him. It had taken a week of relentless begging for Crowley to let you take Grim in, and you had to pinky promise to take good care of him. Then, your friends got the bright idea of trying to bind the cat to you as a familiar (despite your lack of magic), and while it hasn’t worked yet, it certainly helped warm Crowley up to the idea. Something about his sweet baby becoming a beast tamer. You’re not sure what that is, and you’re definitely not a baby, but if it works, it works.

The air is filled with the quiet clink of silverware. After a while, you speak up. “I met someone today.”

Crowley nearly chokes. He pounds on his chest, coughing into his fist. It takes a second for him to recover. “You what?”

“There was a boy at the park,” you explain, “we read together.”

“What did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“Nothing, we already know everyone in town.”

His mouth opens and closes silently. Then, sighing, he shakes his head. “Well, yes, but you were supposed to say that we don’t talk to strangers.”

“He wasn’t scary or anything,” you lie, remembering how you startled each other.

“Very well! Be careful, though. If something were to happen to you, I don’t even know what I would say, er, do!”

You pointedly ignore that slip-up in favor of finishing your meal. Pushing your chair away from the table with a screech, you grab your dishes and your cat and say a quick “good night!” to your guardian.

—

First thing in the morning when you and Crowley arrive at the schoolhouse, you’re accosted by Ace and Deuce. It’s mostly Ace doing the accosting, really, but Deuce joins him in hanging on your back like the world’s heaviest and most annoying koalas. You shake them off and whip around to start wrestling with Ace. Deuce takes his loss better, choosing to sit on the grass and watch you and Ace play fight. Crowley clears his throat several times, probably to get your attention, but you’re preoccupied and he gives up quickly in favor of unlocking the door and stepping inside. There’s a holler nearby, a series of rapid footsteps, and another heavy body falls on you with a grunt.

“Epel!” you wheeze out, squirming on top of the also-squirming Ace. “Can’t breathe!”

“Oh!” Epel rolls off of you, and you roll off of Ace. “Sorry, looked like you were havin’ fun!”

“Was fun,” Ace mumbles, “until you two crushed me.”

“Oops.”

“You didn’t die, though,” you say before you get up. “Also you started it!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“How do you guys do this every morning?” says Jack as he trots up to join you all on the lawn. He rolls his eyes in a remarkable impression of his mother when she’s scolding all five of you. “We’ve gotta go to class.”

“Ace started it!” you repeat.

“Whatever, c’mon.” Jack hauls both you and Ace up by your forearms while you both giggle. He shakes his head, marching you both into the schoolhouse with Epel and Deuce hot on your tails.

"Ah, there you are! I was wondering what was taking you all so long. Take your seats! We have Professor Trein visiting from the city today for our lesson."

Ace groans as he flops into his seat. You lean over and smack his shoulder. Deuce takes his own seat beside you, trying his best to look enthused.

Professor Trein works in the capitol as a history professor for the university. While he's nice enough (and his familiar Lucius is cute and fluffy), every time he comes to give a lesson at your schoolhouse is somehow more boring than the last. You sink down in your seat, ready to daydream until class lets out. When Professor Trein takes Crowley’s place in front of the blackboard, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Without looking at him, you take the slip of paper Ace passes.

‘my mom wants u to come to a party tonite’

Aside from a time scribbled beneath the words, there’s no other information. Great. History lessons with Professor Trein followed by a party where you’ll be stuck at the kids’ table. Again. At least you have a few hours to hang out with your new friend after school.

—

After class, Epel hands out little brown sacks full of apples to everyone. “Ma ‘n Pa said that they’re ‘not fit to sell’ or somethin’, and Meemaw said I should give ‘em to all of you.” You sling your sack over your shoulder, say your “see you later!”s to your friends, and march off to the park.

Beneath your tree, Hornton is waiting. You sprint towards him, grinning, and he looks up at you with wide eyes before returning the smile. He has his book in his lap, open to a different page than he left on.

“Hi,” you say shyly, hugging your sack of apples to your chest. “Were you waiting long?”

“Not really. I mean, maybe? Dunno, I didn’t really notice.”

You sit next to him and set the apples between your splayed legs. Fishing a plump red one out, you wipe it on your blouse and offer it to him. “Here!”

“Why do you have apples?” He eyes it curiously, hand hovering over it.

“My friend’s family has an orchard so he gave us all some after class.” You wave the apple around. “Take it! They’re good!”

Hornton takes the apple. He inspects it in the sunlight for a moment, then takes a bite. His eyes light up as he sinks his teeth into the apple’s hard skin, and he demolishes the fruit in less than a minute. Licking the juice off of his lips and fangs, he mumbles a messy thanks. You just smile and bop your temple against his. As you pull your novel out of your bookbag, you take another apple from the sack and shine it on your trousers. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Hornton staring longingly at the sack.

“You can take another if you want,” you say.

He jumps, green eyes going comically wide. Cheeks flushed a bright ruby-red, he snatches another apple from the sack and rubs it clumsily on his very expensive robes.

“Do you like apples?”

“I do now,” he replies. He’s visibly struggling to keep his attention both on you and the book in his lap.

Curious, you lean over his shoulder and try to make sense of the foreign words in his book. Your brow scrunches up. “What’re you reading?”

His body goes tense the moment you touch him, but he doesn’t flinch away. When you glance up at his face, his expression is more severe and excited than you’ve seen yet. “It’s about arky… archee… uh, it’s about buildings and art! And this is the chapter about gargoyles!” He jabs an excited claw against an illustration of a beastly statue whose jaw hangs open. Water pours down its chin. The page (and the ones preceding and succeeding it) is clearly more worn than the rest of the book. “We have a bunch at the — I mean, at home — and Grandmother saw that I really liked them so she gave me this book!”

“What’s a gargoyle?”

He looks at you like you just confessed to murder. Shaking his head, he flips back a few pages. “They’re ‘ornamental stone carvings of animals or people that project from the side of a building and serve as the spout of a gutter.’ You’ve seen one before, right?”

“No.” You lean in closer to inspect another illustration. “They’re weird.” He stares at you, aghast. You roll your eyes. “Cool weird. We don’t have these out here.”

"Oh… that's a shame. Maybe one day you could come see the ones in my home."

You peer up at him. "Maybe. I gotta ask Mister Crowley."

"Who's that?"

"I live with him. He's weird."

"Cool weird?"

"Weird weird." You nudge him with your shoulder. "Do you live with your grandma?"

"Yeah."

"So it's you and her and your parents?"

Hornton goes completely quiet. He fingers the gilded edge of the page. Softly, he mumbles, "They aren't here anymore."

"Oh. Mine too. That's why I'm with Mister Crowley."

“... Do you know what happened to them?”

You shrug and pluck another apple out of the sack. As you wipe it on your trousers, you reply, “Nah. I dunno if Mister Crowley knows, either. He says he found me in a box left outside the school. There was a note, but it only said my name.”

“Oh.” Hornton looks away. “That’s sad.”

“I guess.” You shrug again. “If they didn’t want me, I don’t want them neither.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed. All he manages is another quiet, “Oh.”

Scowling, you take a bite out of your apple. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Let’s just read.”

“Okay. I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He seems to wilt at your curt statement. You add, “Really, it’s fine. Please, I wanna get through another chapter before I have to go.”

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Yeah, some party at my friend’s house. It’s not even for him, so I dunno why I’m invited, but I think his mom invited everyone in town.” Another bite. You look over the words on the page, not really processing them. “So I gotta go in a couple hours.”

“That must be nice,” Hornton sighs. “Getting invited to parties all the time.”

“What? No, it’s boring. It’s just boring grownup stuff most of the time. It’s only fun when it’s a birthday party, and there’s only four other kids in town so those never happen.” You emphasize this with a long groan.

“Really?” He thinks on this for a moment. “I guess it’s like the parties Grandmother throws.”

“What kinda parties?”

“Uh, they’re… big and fancy, but there aren’t any kids at all. And I can’t go dance or talk to people. And… um… it’s a lot. I don’t like them that much.”

You watch him as his voice shrinks and his head droops. Gently, you bop your temple against his. He perks up a little. With a small smile, you say, “Maybe I can invite you to my birthday party this year. It’d be fun!”

For a moment, you’d swear his eyes water. He beams at you, reaching out to grasp your hand. “I’d like that.”

—

The party at Ace's house is full of tipsy adults while you and your friends drink your juice in a corner. Well, everyone except Ace. His mother parades him around to talk to the other adults who apparently know him. None of you envy him — he looks miserable.

It turns out that the party is for Ace's brother. He emerges from a side room with his girlfriend on his arm and introduces her as his fiancée. When Deuce gives you a questioning look, you lean over and tell him that that means they're going to get married. The adults cheer and sing and dance for hours longer; the celebration only pauses for bedtime (which is fine with you, the party was boring anyways).

The next morning, Crowley wobbles out of his room with most of his weight held up by his cane. He has a faint green tinge to his face, but that doesn't stop him from walking with you to the schoolhouse. This is all, of course, just to announce that class is canceled for the day. You gather with your friends and, after a brief argument, decide to play in the park together.

That's how you find yourself nearly tripping over a familiar figure sitting beneath the oak tree. Hornton looks up from his book, gasps, and reaches out to help steady you. You wheel your arms around haphazardly for a moment before you breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, you take in Hornton's face and gasp.

"Oh! You're here today!"

Before you can give a proper greeting, Ace hollers your name. Both you and Hornton turn to look at the four boys coming to join you. Ace stops, bare toes curling in the grass. He eyes Hornton warily, the sloppy heart painted around his left eye scrunching up. "Who're you?"

"Uh…"

"He's Hornton and he's my friend," you say for him.

"'Hornton?'" Epel repeats. He snorts. "That's a stupid name."

"It isn't my real name," mumbles Hornton.

"Your name is stupid, Epel," you snap. You cross your arms and stick out your tongue. He returns the gesture.

"You guys are children," says Jack. Epel appears comically devastated at the deadpan insult. You huff softly.

Deuce snorts. "You're the youngest!"

"By a month!"

"Your friends are loud," Hornton whispers. You nod. He picks at the page he's on, a tiny film of gold foil flaking onto his black claw. "Should I go?"

"No!" Your friends turn to stare at you. Hornton blinks slowly, pink tinting his cheeks. He smiles bashfully, shrinking a little into his robes. Ace, meanwhile, gets that certain spark in his eye that instantly makes you shoot him a glare in warning. He grins, showing off one of his missing baby teeth, but keeps his mouth otherwise shut.

"Wait, is this the kid you mentioned yesterday?" Deuce asks. He peers over at Hornton. "I thought you were kidding."

"Why would I kid about that? That'd be weird."

"'Cause you're weird," Epel mutters, and you lunge for him while he shrieks with laughter and ducks away.

"You've got pointy ears," says Jack, his own fluffy white ears swiveling towards Hornton before he turns to look at you, "kinda like your dad."

Ew. From your spot on the grass wrestling with Epel, you sit up. "Mister Crowley is not my dad."

"But you live with him?"

"So?"

"I live with my Meemaw," Epel adds. "She's not my mom."

"See?"

Hornton observes your conversation. He tilts his head and hums thoughtfully. "I live with my grandmother, that doesn't make her my mother."

"You talk funny."

"Epel!"

"What? It's true! He talks all fancy like Professor Trein!"

"Fancy?"

"Fancy!"

You roll your eyes and shove Epel. Ignoring his indignant squawk, you scurry over to sit beside Hornton. "Wanna hang out with us?"

He stares at you, mouth agape. Again, he smiles shyly. "You're really inviting me?"

"Duh," Ace drawls. "Why else would they ask?"

Hornton tucks his book into his robe. A tiny green light sparks at his fingertips for a moment as he does so. Then, he stands up. He holds his curled fists close to his chest, guarding. Ignoring his nerves, you grab his hands and use him as leverage to stand, too.

"Whaddya wanna play? Or talk about?"

"Uh… I don't know?"

"Do you guys think you'll ever get married?" Deuce blurts out. All 5 of you turn to stare at him. He goes pale before blushing furiously. "Wait, no, I mean —! Since Ace's brother's gonna get married I was thinking about it!"

You hum. "I'unno. Maybe? Mister Crowley cried last night when I asked him if I'd ever get married."

"Ew."

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna get married," Jack asserts. His tail swishes with excitement. "My mom and dad said that I'll know when I found 'the one.'"

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. But they've been together for forever."

"True. Ace?"

He makes an exaggerated gagging sound. Complete with gestures. "No way! My brother and his fiancée are so gross with each other all the time! It's weird."

"It's gross 'cause he's your brother, dummy."

"And?"

"My mom's not married," Deuce says, plucking at the grass. "She says my dad was a… uh… a 'good-for-nothing scumbag'. She gets all sad when she talks about him, so I dunno about getting married."

"My Grandmother told me that I have to get married one day." Hornton shrugs. "But I don't really think about it."

"So you've never thought about your wedding?" you ask.

Ace shoves you. "You're the only one who has! You're always reading those kissing books."

"So?"

"Kissing books?" Hornton repeats.

"They're called romance and they're good!"

"Real life is grosser," says Ace. You shove him. "Hey!"

"What if we did our own wedding?" Jack interjects. Everyone pauses to look at him. "It can be like training. For when Ace's brother has his, I mean."

"Yeah but who would be who?" Deuce glances over at you, then Hornton. "Why don't you guys play the people getting married?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah! Me 'n Ace 'n Jack 'n Deuce will put up the… the thing!"

"Thing?"

"A chuppah! We gotta make a chuppah!"

"We gotta get some big sticks!"

"I think I saw some branches over on the other side of the tree."

"Nice, Jack! Hey, you 'n Hornton should make some rings! We'll be right back!" Deuce scurries off with the other boys, leaving you and Hornton standing in a stunned silence.

“What?”

“I guess we’re playing wedding?” You shrug and start looking for wildflowers. Hornton watches you with wide eyes. You glance over at him. “C’mon! Help me make the rings!”

He crouches down next to you. Giving you a helpless look, he holds his hands to his chest in hesitation. “Um… how do we do that?”

“We’ll get some flowers and tie the stems! Like making flower crowns! Oh oh oh! We should make flower crowns, too!”

“Oh. I’ve never made a flower crown before. Can you show me?”

“Yeah!” You kneel next to him with a fistful of brightly-colored wildflowers. Hornton watches in rapt attention as you slowly weave their stems together, forming a ring just big enough to fit you as a bracelet. He claps when you present it. Then, without a word, you reach up and drop it onto one of his horns. Hornton sits in stunned silence for a moment before he blushes and mumbles a quiet thanks. He takes the leftover flowers and carefully weaves a crown for you, this one large enough to actually be a crown. His brow furrows as he finishes the crown and then places it on your head. Giggling, you touch the petals. “Thank you, honey!” “H-Honey?”

“Yeah! That’s what the ladies in my romance books call their gentlemen! If we’re getting married I should call you that!”

“Oh!” He smiles, shoulders hunched, then grabs one of the few remaining flowers. “Here, uh, honey. I’ll make your ring.” He winds the stem around your left ring finger, sticking his tongue out in deep concentration. Once he’s knotted the stem, he uses a claw to snip off the excess. Without your prompting, he holds out his own left hand for you to do the same.

“We match!” you whisper-shout, holding your hand next to his.

“Mhm!” His tail thump thump thumps behind him. “Wait, let me try something…” Hornton leans over and touches your flower crown and ring. A bright green light envelops the both of you, and you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. Once it fades, you crack open one eye. The flowers seem unchanged.

“What’d you do?”

“I tried a spell my Grandmother taught me. It’s s’posed to keep plants from withering!” He twists the flower ring on his finger. “I mean, I don’t know if I did it right, but if I did then we’ll always have these!”

“I like that.” You take off your own ring and cradle it in your palm. “I like it.”

A holler from Epel breaks your focus, and you turn to look at the oak. Beneath it, the boys have stuck four massive branches in the ground. Now, they’re arguing over who will give up their jacket to use as a canopy. Beside you, Hornton sighs and takes off his cloak. With a flick of his wrist, it floats up to rest atop the branches and shade the ground beneath it. The boys shut up, seeing the matter settled.

“Okay, I think we gotta start with… uh…” Deuce frowns and scrunches up his nose. After a long moment of deliberation, he looks at the rest of you helplessly.

“You gotta give each other your rings!” Ace shouts.

You tilt your head. “But we already did that while you were getting the sticks.”

“Then give them back and do it again!”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you gotta!”

You roll your eyes but slide the flower ring off your finger. Hornton does the same, cradling his delicately in his palm. You drop yours in his hand and take his. Pinching the stem between your fingers, you glance over at Ace. “Aren’t you supposed to say something?”

“I’m not the one who’s… uh…” His nose scrunches up as he thinks for a moment. “Mom called them an o-fish-ant?”

“You’re not a fish,” Deuce supplies helpfully.

“It’s ‘officiant’, stupid,” you interject. “Did you guys even pick someone for that?”

“I’ll do it,” says Jack, “‘cause if I don’t, this’ll never be done. And then I’ll miss lunch and my mom will yell at me.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.” Ace folds his arms behind his head. “We’re just playing!”

“A wedding’s a wedding.”

“Whatever, do your fish thing!” “It’s ‘officiant’!”

Jack clears his throat. You and Hornton turn to give him your rapt attention. His nose scrunches up and one fluffy ear flicks at the air a few times before he begins speaking. “Uh, we’re gonna… start with you giving each other your rings.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “... Go on. Do it.”

You raise your left hand dutifully, and Hornton slides the flower ring onto your finger. You do the same for him. Both he and Jack look so serious about this that it’s hard not to giggle. “Okay, now what?”

“Um…”

“Oh! I remember one’a my cousins got married and she walked ‘round her husband a bunch!”

“That sounds weird.”

“It was! But she did it!”

“How many times did she do it?”

“I dunno.”

“Wouldn’t you get dizzy?” Deuce mumbles.

“I mean, she seemed fine.”

You glance at Epel, shrug, then look back at Hornton. “Wanna do it?” He nods eagerly. Again, you try not to giggle. Hornton beams. “Okay, I’ll go first! Epel, how many times should I do it?”

“Uh… I dunno, until you start getting dizzy?”

“Bet I can do more than you,” you whisper to Hornton. He stares at you, wide-eyed, then grins so sharply you barely recognize him.

“Bet you’re wrong.”

You both laugh. Taking a deep breath, you start to walk around and around and around Hornton. He spins with you, wobbling. Meanwhile, your friends count every lap. One, two, three, four — you get to seven, and decide to tap out. Hornton puffs out his chest and, a little green in the face, starts circling you, instead. He also makes it to seven.

“Aw,” you mutter. “It’s a tie.”

“I totally could’ve beat you if I went first.” You stick your tongue out at Hornton. He giggles to himself. Then, he turns to Jack. “So, uh, what next?”

“Umm…” Jack’s face screws up in contemplation. His ears swivel back and forth for a moment, before he hesitantly replies, “Uh… you’re married now?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” you say.

“Aren’t we s’posed to… kiss?”

You stare at Hornton, who appears just as flustered as you now feel. “I think so.”

“Wait!” Ace reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves a small pinecone. He sets it on the ground between you and Hornton. “You’re supposed’ta crush it first!”

“Isn’t it supposed to be glass?” Jack asks, and Ace shoves him. “Hey!”

“Do you wanna go get glass to step on?”

“... No.”

“‘Kay, then pinecone it is!” He gestures enthusiastically at the pinecone. “Crush it! Go! Go! Go!”

You squeeze Hornton’s hand, giggling, and in unison you both lift a foot and crush the pinecone under your feet. It gives a loud, crackling crunch, and its little seed pockets burst and go flying. Your friends hoot and holler in celebration.

“‘Kay, now you need to kiss!” Ace declares.

Hornton turns beet red. “Kiss?”

“Like, for real?” you squeak.

“Uh, yeah, otherwise it’s not a wedding.”

You fidget with your ring, face hot. Hornton stares at you with wide, uncertain eyes. All the while, your friends (well, everyone but Jack) chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You’re the one to take the initiative. Squeezing your eyes shut, you lean in and give Hornton a brief, chaste kiss. It lasts only for a second, and from his startled squeak, it’s almost as if he expected that nothing would ever happen. Behind you, Epel and Ace gag dramatically.

“Ewww, you actually did it!” Epel shakes you by the shoulders and cackles through his words. “Gross!”

“You wanted us to kiss!” you protest. Before you can say more, he lifts you on his shoulders. Your words become a shrill squeal, and you can see Ace and Deuce struggling to lift Hornton, as well. “EPEL! PUT ME DOWN!”

“You’re married!” he crows. “You kissed someone!”

For his part, Hornton buries his face in his hands while Ace and Deuce finally manage to lift him up together.

“Uh… mazel tov,” Jack mumbles.

“We’re not actually married!” Even as you say this, you can’t help your rosy cheeks, nor the way your heart races as you meet Hornton’s electric gaze. He smiles bashfully as he grips Ace and Deuce’s shoulders for balance.

Hours later, after you and Hornton and your friends have spent the rest of the day dancing together and chatting and playing tag, you and Hornton are the only ones left at the park. Everyone else went home as the sun began to set. You run your fingers over your ring’s petals, fascinated by their softness.

“Did you have fun?” you ask, voice small. “I know my friends can be a lot…”

“Yeah.” A faint flush brings life to Hornton’s pale face. He smiles, and the sun casts him in gold. “I haven’t had this much fun in forever. Thank you.” For a moment, he hesitates, then he reaches to grab your hand. “Um… will you be here tomorrow?”

You nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Mhm! Do you… wanna read together, maybe?”

It’s as if the sun is rising again when he beams. He gives your hand a squeeze. “I’d like that.”

Though you’re loath to leave, you force yourself to give Hornton a squeeze in return before you pull back. “I gotta go before Mister Crowley starts worrying. Bye, Hornton.”

“Goodbye.”

—

When you go home, you can’t stop yourself from spinning the flower ring on your finger. Crowley asks you what you’re giggling about over dinner, and all you do is grin and show him the ring and crown. He rolls his eyes, muttering about children and their whimsies (whatever that means), and shoos you off to bed once you’ve finished and cleaned up. Before you crawl under the covers, you take off the flowers and place both pieces delicately on your nightstand.

The next day, once school is over, you run to your oak tree. You’re wearing your ring again, unable to stop looking at it and its perfectly-maintained petals. With an excited shout of “HORNTON!” you swing around to the other side of the tree.

And it’s empty.

Your heart drops.

‘Maybe he’s doing something with his grandma?’

The next day, you approach your tree again, less enthused and more nervous. He’s not there.

‘I thought we were gonna play together again.’

Day after day, you check your tree. Day after day, you’re greeted with no sign of the boy you’d started to befriend. Spring turns into summer. Ace’s brother gets married, and all you can think about during the ceremony is a scaly black tail thump thump thumping against the ground. When the leaves of your oak tree begin to turn gold and orange and red, you stop checking.

The ring and the flower crown remain just as pristine as they were the day they were made. You leave the crown on your dresser and wear the ring to class every day.

Years pass. You grow up. Your friends start taking extra lessons after classes a few times a week to train their magic. A new teacher from the city starts to visit, a young man named Divus Crewel. He teaches chemistry and alchemy, and you take to it like a fish to water. The private lessons you get from him almost help to soothe the beast of envy that grows in your chest every time you leave your friends to their magic classes. By the time you turn 13, the ring no longer fits. You keep it and the crown in a little wooden box tucked lovingly beneath your bed. Sometimes, you take them out and marvel at how little they’ve changed. Your friends, however, change just as rapidly as you do. Their magical prowess grows at a startling rate. You content yourself with cheering from the sidelines and working on your alchemical skills. Ace and Deuce try to bind Grim to you as a familiar first when you’re 16 (It doesn’t work, but your hair briefly catches fire). They next try when you’re 18 (It almost works. Crowley says it may have to do with your utter lack of any magic. You try not to feel resentful.). At last, on your 19th birthday, they succeed. It’s quite possibly the best gift you’ve ever gotten; Grim’s life is prolonged for as long as he’s bound to you.

By 20, you and your friends (by some miracle) all get accepted to the university in the city, the same one that Professors Trein and Crewel teach at. You start working under Crewel as a student alchemist (He says you’re one of his most promising students, especially because you have no magic to use as a shortcut. For once, you don’t wilt at the mention of magic.). You see your first real gargoyle on one of the older campus buildings. You take a photo, your mind conjuring up a fanged grin and excited electric green eyes. ‘Does Hornton still like gargoyles?’ you wonder as you save the photo. Years later, at your graduation ceremony, you take another photo of the gargoyle. Now, it’s decorated with a few fabric-flower leis that your fellow graduates managed to get over its head. ‘Look, Hornton, the gargoyle is celebrating, too!’

You return to your hometown after receiving your degree. Crowley graciously allows you to stay at home (although you suspect he might just like having another hand to help around the house) while you continue your work as an alchemist. Crewel has hired you full-time as a lab assistant. Every day you take the train into the city for work. Sometimes, when you get all caught up in your head and the novelty of watching the world pass by through the window, you find yourself reaching for your left ring finger to twist a ring that isn’t there.

‘It’s been almost twenty years,’ you chastise yourself, ‘why are you still thinking about that boy?’

Despite your age, your experience in romance is limited to the cheesy romance novels and cheap bodice-rippers that populate your bookshelf, interspersed between your textbooks and notebooks. For some reason, you could never bring yourself to try dating. Every time the thought comes to you, you feel the phantom sensation of a soft stem wrapped around your finger. Your friends tease you about it. Ace calls you a dweeb. Epel says you’re acting foolish over a stupid game you played as children. Deuce laughs and does a pantomime of your fake wedding. Jack just shakes his head knowingly. He’s the most understanding about it — wolves mate for life, and he gets why you would take a play-wedding to heart. That doesn’t stop him from getting a jab or two in on occasion, though.Some days, you pull the box out from under your bed and look at the flowers. As always, they look just as perfect as the day they were picked. Now that you’re older, you’ve learned more about magic. The spell required to make and maintain such perfect preservation requires both skill and a wellspring of magic. The amount of magic alone would send most experienced mages into overblot. This only stokes your curiosity. How did Hornton, a child hardly older than you, cast such a spell with ease? Who was he? It’s a question that haunts you. It’s a question you know you’ll never get an answer to.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Three's a crowd

Pairings: Eddie munson x fem!reader x steve harrington

Summary: There's really no plot, just something smutty with our favorite boys. You've been a brat, and now your boyfriends have to punish you.

Warnings: unprotected sex, established poly relationship, threesome(fmm), Daddy kink, mention of spankings,edging, crying. Brief mention of bindings, use of fingers to gag. Face slapping (just once) Sir and Daddy are used. Steve and eddie refer to the reader as princess and baby.

A/n a short little fic because why not. Divider by me.

18+ no minors not proofread

"M'sorry...so so sorry," you whined arching your back as Steve slowly rubbed his cock in-between your wet folds nudging your sore clit ever so slightly. He smirks, looking down at you as he slaps his cock one more time against your clit making your body twitch.

"Hmm, I don't think you're that sorry princess," Eddie spoke from above you as he moved teased and pinch at your nipples making them harden.

Your face tear stained and body already sore from Eddie previously fucking you. Trying your best to think about anything else but coming as Steve's thick cock prodes at your entrance. Your pussy dripping with your slick and Eddie's cum. Making it so much easier for him to just glide all the way in with ease.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Steve slowly spreads you open. He starts a slow and gentle pace at first, letting you get used to the feel of him. "ooh, you've been a v-very bad girl." Your other boyfriend stuttered as his cock started pumping in and out of you lazily.

You were a brat earlier, snapping at both of them for the smallest things imaginable. They took your cruel words and frustrations in stride as you stomped your way around the house.

Eddie and Steve were always very patient with you. They'd rather talk it out and see if the problem could be resolved before they resorted to a punishment. Not saying they didn't love a good punishment because they did, especially Eddie. They just felt it was more fair to talk things out first before resorting to a punishment, and then talking about the problem afterwards.

This time around, it's different you refused to talk it out. You don't really know exactly what's wrong with you to even have one of those "little" talks. You refused to let them know their lack of attention and affection is the real cause of your attitude. Ever since Eddie got his own mechanic shop and steve got that promotion, you didn't see them as much.

The dinners you had ended up being two phone calls saying sorry they couldn't make it. Which left you to either eating dinner alone or not at all. Most of time they would get home to you already sleeping in your shared bed. You couldn't help the way you were acting. You even knew how insufferable you were being towards them, but instead of stopping, it continued on.

You got yourself into all this mess when Eddie came home a little earlier than expected. You were obviously not in the mood to deal with him. He marched in the house with his big dumb grin, and all you could do was roll your eyes and scoff. That's when he absolutely had enough and practically threw you over his lap as he sat on the couch, spanking you as hard as he could.

He tried getting you to talk to him after your punishment, but you still refused. Even after Eddie spanked you hard enough, it left your legs wobbly. His hand burning from the impacts he made to your ass.

You still gave an attitude. He tried wiping the tears from your face, but you just turned away from him on the couch. He just sighs, growing more frustrated by the minute, but he still tries to get you to open up.

"Please tell me what's wrong, princess." His voice soft as he moves a piece of hair out of your face. Deciding to continue giving the silent treatment instead of just being honest, that's when Steve walked in. He wasted no time rushing over to you, seeing your puffy eyes red with tears still slowly falling. He's immediately glaring towards Eddie, asking what happened.

"She's been a brat almost all week, so I had no choice but to teach her a lesson." He defended himself.

"Did you try talking to her first?" Steve argued back with Eddie as he sat next to you on the couch.

"Did he try talking to you?" He turned and reached out to take your hand only for you to snatch it away.

"See, she's being a brat." Eddie motioned towards you. Steve sighs and gets up from next to you, undoing his tye as he did.

Now you find yourself laying at the edge of the bed being edged by both men for what feels like hours. Eddie is already having his fun with you. He was a lot rougher than Steve is being. Eddie tied your hands together while he licked, sucked and played with your pussy. Teasing and kissing it driving you wild and on the brink of an orgasm with each flick of his tongue on your aching clit.

His moved his mouth down to your entrance never breaking eye contact as he spits on it before fucking you with his tongue. Your thighs shake faster as his grip on them tightened. The sounds coming out of your mouth were almost pornographic as Eddie buried his tongue deep inside your pussy. He knew exactly how to get you just on the brink of your release, only stopping just when you were almost there.

The moment Eddie's cock slipped inside you he was a wild man. He didn't take his time or let you adjust to his size. Once he was in, he set a brutal pace, making you writhe under him. His balls slapped into your already very tender and sore ass. He shoves two ringed fingers in your mouth gagging your cries. Drool spilling down your chin soaking his fingers driving him crazy.

"Such a bad fucking girl." He growled as his nostrils flare causing your pussy to clenches around him.

"Say it. Say I'm a bad girl." He continued to growl. His voice becoming horse and you choke back a sob.

His fingers still deep in your mouth, you gag around them again. "I-I'm a b-bad girl." Your voice muffled as saliva spills out coating Eddie's ringed fingers.

Eddie didn't take long before his cock was spilling his cum inside you, filling you to the brim. After Eddie was finished, he pulled out a little too harsh, causing you to gasp at the sudden loss. Steve took his time, letting you cool down before it was his turn to play with you.

"Ready for me, baby?" Steve cooed as he moved to nestle himself between your trembling weak thighs. He spits on his hand rubbing it in his cock giving himself a few quick strokes.

Your eyes glossed over, and mind hazy. You guess you didn't hear him clear enough to respond in time. Before a sharp smack to your cheek brought you out of your daze.

"He asked you a question." Eddie's voice stern but raspy as he spoke from behind you.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy and Sir I didn't hear you." Steve chuckles and rubs your stinging cheek.

"I said are you ready for me?" He repeated himself. You nodd in response but Steve clicks his tongue in disapproval. "Use your words baby like the good girl I know you are."

Sniffling just a little buy you take a deep breath "I'm ready."

He smiles down at you undoing the bindings Eddie previously put around your wrists. "See that wasn't so hard now was it?"

Steves cock begins to slide between your wet fold. Dipping down to your entrance coating his cock in your slick and Eddie's cum. You clench around nothing as he continues teasing your pussy. You choke back another sob when his tip slides right over your neglected clit. You're trying your best not to cum but you don't think you can hold it any longer.

"Oooh, please, I promise I'll be a good girl." You begged, causing both men to laugh simultaneously.

Eventually, Steve aligns himself up with you pushing in slowly until he's bottoming out. Your body shudders and legs tremble at the feeling of him stretching you open. You bite down on your lower lip as you reach out to grip Eddie's forearm.

"F-fuck, I promise I'll be good just please let me cum." You begged them both as tears spilled from your eyes.

"No." His voice coming out harsh.

Steves pace quickened and squelching sound of your pussy getting louder as he fucked you harder. His hips slammed into yours as your moans turned into more begging and pleading. Unfortunately for you, they fall on deaf ears. Steve and Eddie weren't gonna let you off the hook that easy. This was your punishment, and they were sticking to it.

"You like that, huh? " He asked as his cock was buried deep inside hitting that sweet spot just right. His breathing became ragged with each stroke. He was getting close, you could tell. His thrusts are getting sloppy and frantic. "fuuucking christ." He whispered.

You can feel that coil in your belly tightens, and you try your best to ignore it again. You know it won't end well if you cum without permission. Steve is getting close and before you know it you feel his cock twitch inside you coating your walls with his cum as well. He continues slamming his hips against yours as he milks every last drop of his release.

He hauls his movements as both your sweaty bodies go limp. Your breathing harsh and your legs trembling worse than before. Steve gently removes himself from inside you allowing his and Eddie's cum trickle out. Eddie quickly comes to your aide as Steve composes himself.

Eddie was always a little more meaner when it came to punishment, but quick and gentle with the aftercare. Waiting on your hand and foot making sure you're okay. Steve on the other hand gave you some space as to not overwhelm you, but still gave praise.

"You did so good baby." Eddie praised.

Your voice weak and bearly audible "Thank you sir."

You wrap your arms around his body as he helps you lay back on your pillows. Your mind clouded and your body weak. The throbbing between your legs is still uncomfortably noticeable after being edged with no release. Eddie shushes you as he laid down.

"Don't get too comfortable, princess, we're not done yet." Steve spoke up from across the room, he lights up a cigarette.

You didn't even notice he got up from where you both were lying. Eddie looked over at you and Steve with a mischievous grin on his face. That's when you just knew you were in for a very long night.

[oh-no-its-bird]

TORA AU TIME YES ITS THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN !!!

Ok so first, quoting this from a previous tora au post:

Personal take here: I don't think Itachi likes being in charge! That boy is a born, built, and bred shinobi who follows what he is told to a perfect T, no matter how blatantly horrifically awful the order is! Even if hates it with all of his heart! He'll still fucking do it! And then only blame himself for it and not the guy who fucking ordered it! Because he'll still obey that guy after! Which also adds another fun layer of irony bc hes supposed to be clan head one day! To me, Itachi is a fascinating subject of having an unshakable, unbreakable iron will— and also having absoloutley no spine To be fair tho was also like. Fuckin 13. He was fucked up and was tricked at a very, very young age and unfortunatley that one mistake came to chain him to that one specific way of thinking. If he came to grow out of that way of thinking, he'd first have to admit he'd made a mistake, which wasn't gonna happen bc it was too late for regrets. But anyways: With Tora here Itachi has another "voice of reason" to help steer him away from other voices who might otherwise bind him. There isn't as much pressure on only him + Shisui to here and now choose what they (and only they) will choose to do to save the entire clan or Konoha Tora is a natural leader and quick to take charge, and Itachi is ok with that. When Itachi chooses to speak, he is listened to carefully and his opinions are taken seriously, which is all he can ask for tbh. Otherwise he's allowed to sit there and look pretty till given a nice, neatly wrapped plan approved by 2 people he can really, truly trust. So he's doing a bit better mentally than canon Anyways, in this AU I think Itachi should actually get to semi-retire as a shinobi and actually Sasuke gets to be clan head bc his brother ain't built for it. Plus it can play more into the stuff I was talking ab earlier about Sasuke struggling a lot more than those around him to learn different stuff (sealing especially) only to come out as one of the most terrifying in what he eventually masters. Let the second son inherit!! Let Sasuke have a defining character moment where he decides he wants to help guide the clan, and he's forced to kind of get over his brother worship to confront Itachi to say he doesn't think he'd make the best clan head. And Itachi let's out this sigh of relief he did not know he has been holding for his entire life and tells Sasuke he's proud of him.

With that in mind ^

I think the ultimate ironic pairing for the finale of the Tora AU would be Tora and Itachi ending up together, but with Itachi as the retired ninja housewife and Tora the big boi breadwinner

The ultimate fuck you twist call back to all Tora's parents talk of Tora needing to find a "good man to take care of you" + irony from them originally cheering Tora on when they learned he and itachi were friends bc they thought he'd snag him as a husband and the culmination of Itachi's "I don't really want to be in charge actually" arc

I love a full circle !!

Sasuke is Itachi's best man and Shisui is Tora's and Kakashi gets to walk Tora down the isle instead of his parents who he has no real attachment to

Actually POV I fucking kill off the Haruno's and Tora and Sakura have to deal w the death of their parents, who they both had very complicated relationships with but relationships nonetheless

Mmm I kinda like that, putting that in my back pocket for now

I honestly don't even know how the romance would happen, tbh I'm not the biggest romance fan but I just love the progression of it in the narrative. I think it'd be a cool end to their story, I'll sweat the little details later

Maybe they aren't even in love fr fr

Oh my god wait no hear me out

HEAR ME OUT

Itachi getting out of being clan head via marrying Tora. Don't ask me how this works. They aren't even like in love or anything but Itachi is using Tora as a political shield to fuck off and enjoy his housewife retirement actually.

Tora is similarly using this for one of his infamous political plots somehow, it's all part of his master plan and as usual itachi is just happy to go along for the ride

,,,the perfect queer platonic besties end to their arc ,, I love it this is my new ideal endgame

Sasuke drops that he's gonna fight Itachi to be clan head and Itachi one ups him by going "oh cool. Guess I don't need to marry Tora then."

Queue Sasuke spit take "You don't need to WHAT"

"Yeah we were gonna get married as part of a 10 step plan to help Tora take over the clan council + get me out of being clan head by abusing some old laws Tora found."

"??????????"

"I guess I'll tell Tora we don't need to do it anymore. I'm happy for you, little brother."

"???????????????????"

Anyways yeah, thinking ab tora au again.

I just finished re-reading my vault fic chapter for it and am having Thoughts(tm)

[maple-the-awesome]

Friend or Foe || Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Time, Wind, Wild x GN Reader

Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Time may not remember everything that has occurred over his many, long adventures, but he does remember the day you met. Only children then, you both made an innocent promise to marry once adults. Now, Time may be a lot of things, but he has always been a man of his word. How could he not be when presented the perfect chance to spend the rest of his life with his childhood crush? You’re the one person he can trust with his every secret - the reward at the end of every troubling journey. He lives to see your joy and dies to see your sorrow, even when it isn't exactly 'your' sorrow...

It's difficult business keeping track of eight young boys and men, especially when they're all cursed with the same adventurous spirits that are easily distracted. Of course they’ve managed to disappear here. He can only blame himself for not having questioned their silence sooner, although he’d be lying to say he doesn’t feel disappointed, notably with the older boys, Twilight and Warrior, who are usually more responsible than to simply wander off without a word of explanation. Alas, even they’re nowhere to be seen, his only hint of other life nearby being a giggle that echoes off the vast number of gigantic trees.

"My, my. One more left I see?" Time leaps back, hand already on his sword when he hears the voice, “Oooh, and look at you! So handsome! So fierce! I’m digging the scar - it makes you look so tough. And those muscles, too! You seem like you would really know how to -”

“- Where are you?!” Time demands, getting his answer promptly when a figure swings down from a branch mere feet away from his face.

“Wow! You’re even hotter up closer!”

Time's eyes widen in surprise due to both their sudden entrance and their physical appearance. This mysterious person has wild hair that sticks out in every direction with their body lacking a healthy weight or color, yet Time immediately ignores all of that in favor of focusing upon the mask they wear - one he knows all too well but wishes he didn’t. He thought, for a second, that he may have recognized their voice, too, yet he’s more certain that he must be mistaken in that regard. No way it could be…

“Hey, you were traveling with those other boys, right? So maybe you’ll be nicer by giving me the answers I want! You see, beautiful stranger, I’m looking for a special friend of mine. We made a promise a while back and I intend to fulfill it if I could just find him first. None of the travelers I’ve found in these woods so far are him, so I was beginning to lose hope until I overheard those friends of yours mention his name, but they -”

Time can’t move, his body overcome with a chilled wave that ends with his feet cemented to the ground. It would be reasonable to say he misheard the first time, and he could keep denying it if he wants now, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he does recognize this person’s voice. How could he not when it’s the same that belongs to his own person angel? It’s a disordered version of yours, however this person isn’t you. This can’t be you because last he checked, you were safe back home where you promised to wait for his next return. How could you suddenly be here in this world, kept under the binding influence of Majora’s Mask?

“- Hey, are you broken?!” This person - who still so eerily sounds like you despite Time’s refusal to admit such a thing - knocks a fist against his forehead, barely flinching when he jerks back with a gasp, “Sooo? You gonna help me or just be difficult like your friends, eh? I don’t have all day, miser!”

Perhaps this ‘you’ is simply a figment of his imagination created by the forest to torment him; that must be the answer. He just has to play the game - no matter how much it messes with his head - to find out what happened to the boys. He’s dealt with enough Skull Kids before, this would be a piece of cake.

“I -...This friend of yours, who is he? Someone you’ve lost in the forest?” Time asks carefully, doing his best not to react too much outwardly, after all he’s seen first hand how Majora’s Mask can affect the mind of its wearer, and this ‘you’ before him has already clearly been put through the wringer.

“If I knew where I had lost him, I would’ve found him!” You snap in irritation.

Time swallows, “...Right, that does make sense, but perhaps if you could tell me his name, I could offer you better help in finding him?”

You seem pleased by this answer, swinging yourself upright on the branch where you become illuminated only by the glowing eyes of your mask, “Link.”

“L…Link?” That cold feeling from before returns, making Time suddenly feel sick to his stomach as the dots finally begin to connect in his head. This is no figment of his imagination - no trick of the light or evil illusion. It really is you…not the same version of you he married, but the other he promised to…

In Wind’s world, you're an adored teacher on Windfall Island. You’re kind, caring, and very knowledgeable about Hyrule's history which came in handy whenever he needed pointers during his early adventures. Yes, you would express concern over a child of his age partaking in such dangerous affairs (you thought it was all a joke when he first told you) and you've let it slip before that you aren't the biggest fan of pirates, although beyond your mother-like worry which you’ve adopted towards all your students (even the unofficial ones like Wind), you’ve ultimately supported him every step of the way. You've always been a huge role model for him, so this shift in personality is more than unexpected...

Wind was excited to show his new friends around what he thought to be his own Hyrule and relieved to discover they weren’t alone on this island they’ve found themselves stuck on after wandering through another portal. A pirate ship anchored on shore - the very ship belonging to Zelda’ crew, as Wind foolishly assured the others despite their caution. Now, thanks to his impatience and eagerness, he sits saddened and embarrassed next to the rest of the heroes as they remain tied to the ship’s mast. 

It’s confusing. The pirates of this ship are the same as Zelda's crew, yet they claimed to not at all recognize the younger pirate regardless of his attempts to jog their memories. Instead, they had rounded him and the rest of the Chain up the second they approached their dock, taking them prisoner where they currently wait for 'the Captain's reaction'. 

The Captain. This made Wind feel relieved again. Zelda. He doesn't know why the other pirates are acting so strangely, but Zelda will be able to clear this whole mess up, in fact here she comes, dressed in her normal pirate attire Wind's accustomed to seeing.

"ZELDA! Goddesses, am I glad to see you! I don't understand what kinda trick the guys are trying to play on me, but this isn’t the time! My friends - they're all heroes of courage like me and we could really use your help to -" The words come so quickly from Wind's mouth that Zelda barely has time to look disgusted. 

"How hard did you exactly hit this guy?" She asks while looking to Nudge then back to Wind with a smirk.

"Wha - I'm serious! This is urgent, Zelda -!"

"- Who?" She places her hands on her hips, generally seemingly confused which makes Wind's blood run cold, but not as much as it does when another voice speaks.

"Oi, what's the ruckus out here, eh!? I thought I told ya' lot to keep it down - Oh. What do we have here, umm?" The doors to the Captain's cabin burst open, out walking a figure dressed head-to-toe in a bright red uniform with a large black, white, and magenta feather sticking out from their hat.

"Captain," Zelda immediately backs off from Wind, "These guys were just caught after trying to rush our ship."

"No, that’s not what we -!"

"- Little thieves. 'thought they could just follow us here and steal our treasure!" The pirates hiss together, although you take more time to look over the boy in front of you along with his companions.

"You all look familiar…" Your statement - as disinterested as it sounds - almost gives Wind hope. Almost, "Lock 'em up in the cellar where I won't have to listen to their annoying bitching. Gonzo, set a course for the Forsaken Fortress. I think Ganondorf would like to meet these boys. Tetra, you stick with me."

"YES, CAPTAIN!" An assortment of shouts follow, both from the pirates who follow your every order loyally and the heroes who express their dismay. Wind, however, can only stare in complete disbelief and betrayal as you look back at him once more, your eyes dark from underneath your hat's shadow which is a sharp contrast to the usual warmth that he knows you for. 

Wild lives with a lot of heavy regrets weighing him down, perhaps the most unspoken being his missed chance at ever telling you his true feelings. You were an ever-so-dear friend to him before the Calamity - someone who never expected the impossible from him and always offered a shoulder to lean on should he need one. He loved you quite a bit; something he remembered almost as soon as he remembered you. He has often visited your grave, replaying past events in his head while suffocating in his own guilt from not having protected you. He has sometimes begged the Goddess to let him see you again, even if just to apologize, but this isn’t what he had in mind - far from it…

Wild’s version of Hyrule is chaotic and messy; a land that thrives off of quiet hope and the shattered remnants of a once mighty kingdom. Zelda has mentioned the theory before: that like Hyrule, Wild needed to become something else - something different and unruly in nature because if you can’t beat it, then join it. 

With that said, he’s accustomed to using a lack of forethought, at least in any way comparable to his past self (which is what he tells himself, anyway). As far as he knows, before the Calamity, he was as straight-laced as they come, always concerning himself with his public image and focused on never letting anyone down. He’s nothing like that now, often running into danger head first with messy hair and a blaze of fire following his trail. You would think after the amount of concussions and scars he’s gained, he would’ve long learned his lesson, but alas, he raced through this dungeon with little worry as he’s done many others because his confidence - or perhaps his dull wit - has once again outweighed any common sense. 

Now this is the price he must pay for his own ignorance: a nightmare reanimated before him as it taunts and tortures his inner conscience…and all he can do is accept this horrid punishment in frozen terror as you stalk across the room towards him.

When he raced ahead of the others and turned the key, he expected to be greeted with the typical dungeon boss - an overgrown bokoblin or fiery wizard. He didn’t expect it to be you, crumbled on the ground with gloom affecting your entire body. He didn’t expect for you to react so harshly to his presence, throwing him across the room with a blast of magic when he tried to reach your side, desperate to know how you’re alive and if you’re okay.

You look as angry as you have every right to be, your face curled into a snarl as you come closer, eyes narrowed in an orange glow and a sword in your hand…yet Wild could do nothing but let his knees buckle from underneath himself and dig his nails into his scalp as he asks himself over and over again how this is possible. How are you here? How are you alive? How were you affected and how does he fix you? …He can’t, though. He let you down then and has no idea how to save you now despite having been granted the gift of your presence again - the very thing he’s been begging for.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He cries, not sure if it’s for you or himself as he sobs your name with the same heartache he would over your grave, “I’msorry! I’msorry!”

“IT’S AN ILLUSION, WILD! IT’S NOT THEM!” Someone shouts from behind - someone who he’d usually easily recognize as Twilight yet his mind is in too much of a rush to even listen to his concerned friend’s words, let alone care about his identity. 

Wild can only think of his final moments with you. The day you ‘casually’ told him about plans to try a new restaurant in Castle Town and how you were looking for someone to join you. Foolishly - ever so foolishly - he asked if your sister wouldn’t go, generally confused that you, someone so kind and loved, would have trouble finding a willing companion for any aspect of your life. 

Bashfully, you agreed to ask her, and that was it. You walked off, leaving the poor hero to wonder why you looked so dejected and heartbroken. The next time he’d see you was a mere picture an old woman showed him, curious if you happened to be the one he ran into town desperately searching for. The woman - your niece, as it would turn out - confirmed his worst fears, explaining that while you had survived the initial attack during the Calamity, you like many others soon succumbed to an illness Purah now theorizes to have been a result of close contact with gloom. 

Wild can only imagine your final moments, poisoned by gloom and betrayal much like this other version of you is. If only he had done his job properly, you would have never felt such pain. You, like your sister, would have grown old and lived peacefully as you deserved. He, himself, wouldn’t have to forever live with this guilt he bears from your death - guilt that tries convincing him it would’ve been better if Twilight hadn’t pulled him away from the danger, instead allowing you - even if not truly you - to get some sort of revenge for his mistakes. 

[sailorshadzter]

Fic prompt: Jon and Sansa as parent-figures to King Rickon

OHHH ANON!!! thank you for this one!!! it was such a cute prompt & fun to write!!

i hope you like it!

send me prompts

“But I’m not yet tired!�� 

The stubborn vocals belong to an equally stubborn young man, staring up at her from where he stands just out of her reach, his clear blue eyes defiant in their gaze. A sigh escapes her, but she cannot help but to smile all the same. “Come, at least let me get you ready for bed,” she encourages the boy eager to grow into a man, reminding her quite a lot of someone they’ve long since lost. “Then you may decide if you are tired.” The boy groans, but finally relents, nodding his head as he pushes past her to sink into the empty chair she’s standing beside. 

This is not their usual night time routine- he is a boy of the age where it is certainly not seemly to be cared for by a woman and he’s a crowned King no less, making him even less eager these days to be mothered by his sister. But, sometimes, even Rickon will admit he enjoys it when she hovers over him; he can barely remember their mother now, so when he thinks of her, in truth he thinks just of her, of Sansa. She knows that soon these moments will vanish entirely, so she will enjoy them as much as she can, while she still has them. 

Her first step is to unfasten the leather binding which his unruly red hair is tied back with- he’s taken to wearing his hair just as Jon does, secured at the base of his neck in a small bun. She smiles at the sight of it, as she always does, reaching for the comb sitting there on the tabletop. “You had quite the day,” she observes as she gently tugs the comb through his hair, careful of the knot she finds after the second stroke. “But you are coming into your own as King.” He looks over his shoulder up at her, blue eyes meeting blue, and he’s blushing at her compliment. Just like that, he’s a small boy once more, rather than this boy of thirteen she doesn’t always seem to know. “I am proud of you.” His cheeks, already red, deepen in color, and he turns away, hands twisting in his lap as she pulls the comb through his hair one final time. “There.” She steps back and sets the comb aside, crossing the room to pull his nightshirt out of its place in the wardrobe, laying it neatly across the tightly made bed. 

By the time she’s turned around, Rickon is standing there behind her, close enough now she can reach out and touch him, if she so desired. Seeing him there, tall and thin, makes her heart ache for the family they’ve both lost. If only their parents could see him now, if only Robb could see him now… They would be as proud of Rickon as she and Jon were. Rickon is the one to move next, closing the gap between them in the form of an embrace, one which is surprisingly strong for one so small. Sansa closes her eyes, wrapping the boy in her arms, wondering how this was the same babe she once cradled to her chest. “I love you, Sansa,” he says, his voice cracking over the syllables of her name before he buries his face in the crook of her shoulder. 

They stand there in such a way for a long moment, before she finally steps back from him, holding him out at arm’s length. “Good night, Rickon,” she says softly, leaning in so she can press a kiss to the top of his head. She slips away then, pausing for only one moment more, so she can hear his soft voice speak one last time.

“Good night, sister.” 

[ x x x ]

“Good! Just like that!” 

Those words are followed by one last clash of the two wooden swords, before a panting, grinning, sword swinging boy falls to the dirt to catch his breath. “You are better with each passing day,” the same voice continues and the young boy tilts his head back to look up into the face of the man that speaks to him. “Get up now, Sansa will have my head if she sees you in the dirt like this,” he says next, offering him a hand, which he takes readily, allowing the older man to help him up and back onto his feet as they both laugh. 

In the three years since his crowning, they have spent many afternoons in this way, for what sort of King would he be if he could not swing a sword? And who better to teach him than Jon, after all? Though, on the rare occasion Jon cannot spar with him, his sister’s sworn shield has, and Rickon must admit she might be the next best to his older brother. And though Sansa says he has no reason to learn the art of the sword, for they lived in peace now, Rickon knows he must be prepared- just in case the day ever does come where he must protect his home and his people. 

And the truth was, Jon thinks the very same way.

It was true, they did live in a time of peace now, but there was no telling when danger would arise once more. And Rickon, like every King in the North before him, had to be ready to fight alongside his men on the battlefield. He just hopes it will never again come to such a thing. Though he does enjoy the hours he spends with the boy, who is full of natural talent at swinging a sword, his stance often reminds him of Robb, who once upon a time was a boy eager to prove his worth to the world. “I am proud of you, you know,” he says as they make their way up the stairs, back into the castle. Rickon shoots him a sidelong glance, a look on his face that reminds him not just of Robb, but of their long dead father. “You will be a warrior king this world will not soon forget.” Rickon’s face breaks out into a wide grin as Jon slings an arm around his shoulders, tugging him just a little bit closer. 

As they make their way inside, they both see her standing at the end of the hall, like she’s been there waiting for them. Sansa turns their way as they enter and her face blooms with a smile, raising her hand in a wave, blue eyes bright in their gaze. Rickon slips away first, making his way towards his sister, who immediately begins to fuss over the calluses on his palms and the dirt on his clothes, sighing when he assures her this was all part of being a king. “Go on then, your grace,” she gives him a playful push towards the great hall, where inside supper was waiting to begin. “I hope he’s not dirty because you knocked him into the dirt,” she says as he falls into his usual place at her side. 

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “He did that himself,” he swears, leaning in so he can brush a feathery soft kiss to her lips. “Come, our growing boy king will have devoured all of the meal if we don’t get in there,” she rolls her eyes but takes his arm all the same, allowing him to guide her into the hall, thankful that after all this time, they have a moment such as this one. 

They were together and that was what mattered the most.

[shera-dnd]

Alright I have eaten my mato peach and have gained the amazing power to do literary and thematic analysis of any piece of media, no matter how fucking stupid

and as the first activation of my ability, I'm turning it towards the stupid ecchi reverse slave harem manga, Mato Seihei no Slave (or Chained Soldier if you're not as much of a fucking weeb as I am) in order to prove that this is actually thematically consistent and surprisingly well written

(long pause as I let all my followers block me and leave)

but first to address the two shuuki in the room

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE BEEN READING AN ECCHI SLAVE HAREM MANGA YOU FUCKING WEIRDO?

Look... LOOK! It's not what you think!

Okay so like a lot of anime and manga recently (primarily isekai) have been including slavery as a thing in their world building, and tho I'm not gonna claim that's the only thing it ever gets used for, it's quite clear that a lot of people are only using that as an excuse for kinky slave play BDSM

and then forget that that stuff comes with like... you know, the horrific implications of slavery as an institution

WELL GOOD NEWS! The author of this manga does not give a shit about disguising his femdom slave play kink as commentary on slavery, this is literally just a BDSM thing and it never pretends to be anything else

...besides, a woman has needs, okay?

WAIT SHOULDN'T THIS MANGA TRIGGER YOU? ISN'T YOUR TRIGGER THE LITERAL CENTRAL GIMMICK OF THIS?

YOU WOULD BE CORRECT! By all logical means I should not be able to read this manga without having the most viscerally negative response possible... except that I don't

I'm not gonna pretend that I know why or how this is working

But I read Monster Musume back in 2015 and it somehow helped me get over my fear of spiders, SO WHO KNOWS maybe niche ecchi manga are how I get over my mental blocks

I would rather it wasn't, but I'm having a hard time proving otherwise!

oh god we're already 400 words in and I have only just finished the preamble. Why am I like this?

Okay okay let us get started as I'll give a detailed explanation as to why Mato Seihei no Slave is about the bonds between people, the ways we bring out the best in each other, and what makes a good dom- ahem I mean leader... what makes a good leader

So for those who don't know the central conceit of this story is that this is a world where women get super powers and men get... to be stay at home husbands

Our protagonist is male wife supreme, Yuuki Wakura, whose main hobbies include cooking, cleaning, and day dreaming about one day becoming a hero

unfortunately for our adorable little boy toy he immediately finds himself falling through a portal into actual literal hell (technically it's called Mato, but like it's just hell) where he's promptly attacked by several giant monsters

BUT GOOD NEWS FOR HIM! He's being saved by a hyper competent hot woman in a uniform (lesbians going "it should have been me!" count should be at 1 by now)

BAD NEWS FOR HIM! She's alone and soon they both get overwhelmed because she can't go full apeshit murder mode while protecting his soft boy ass

Thankfully there is a way for her to save him still, it just requires some collaboration from him

("it should have been me!" count: 2)

And here we are at the main fucking gimmick. The reason why all the ecchi shit happens, the silly excuse for why this bad bitch decides to keep this guy at her side

Chains of Eternity: Slave

Kyouka Uzen (the ultimate girl boss) can forge a contract with someone to bind them to her will as her slave. This will bring out their hidden potential and allow them to fight by her side, turning them into a super powerful killing machine at her command.

In exchange once the task is done she must give a reward to her slave based on the difficulty of the task and the slave's "latent desires"

So yeah, Kyouka doesn't get to decide what the reward is, Yuuki doesn't get to decide what the reward is, only Kyouka's magic can decide what the reward is. Which basically just means the author gets to insert whatever horny fuckery they want into this

Rewards vary from giving him head pats, offering him treats, giving him a back massage, kissing him, to...

well this is a femdom series for a reason

(I think the "it should have been me!" count is at like a 4 or a 5 now)

and now I'm gonna analyze the ever loving shit out of that ability and how it is the crux to all the themes of the show and actually informs us on the nature of Kyouka's character

no, I'm not kidding

Okay so let me just break down what Slave does here from a kink point of view. It basically allows Kyouka and Yuuki to enter into a BDSM relationship where the dom always knows what the sub wants, while still being able to surprise the sub with her actions. She gets to constantly keep her sub beneath her, while also being magically required to reward him and give him aftercare once she's done

Those two have entered a ridiculously healthy BDSM relationship by forging a magical contract that lets them skip all the negotiation bits and go right to what the audience wants to see

(yeah it's gonna be impossible to track the "it should have been me!"s from this point on, so just try to keep your own count at home)

This is also the author's way of like having his cake and fucking it too

Because that way we can have Kyouka as the baddest bitch to ever live AND have her do embarrassing stuff with Yuuki without ever breaking character. In fact the loftier her goals and the more tragic her backstory the more reason she has to accept the reward mechanism as the price to pay for this power

It's also why Kyouka is easily the most developed and interesting character of the manga, to the point that Yuuki is more a supporting character to her arc

This brings us back to those three themes I mentioned waaaaay at the start

Starting with: "how we bring out the best in each other"

For starters it's quite obvious how that works with Yuuki. He wants to be a hero in a world where he should not be able to have super powers, and in comes Kyouka who gives him both the power and the purpose to achieve that goal

But this also extends to literally everyone in Unit Seven and beyond

We have seen the ways in which Kyouka has helped all of her team mates grow stronger and overcome their past traumas, some times by the sheer confidence and kindness of her presence

Hell we see one of her team mates unlock a rage mode power up because someone said Kyouka was a bad leader

and there's even another team leader who straight up evolved her powers into a new stronger form just out of sheer love and respect for Kyouka

This culminates in the development of Lending. The ability to let others take Yuuki's chain and use him in combat

and like I'm not stupid, I'm not gonna pretend this isn't primarily an excuse to have different hot women give Yuuki rewards in ever hornier scenarios, with the added benefit of being able to design cooler monster forms for him

and I mean... those are some really cool monster forms

But that's besides the point

The point is that this also pulls double duty by allowing Kyouka and Yuuki to constantly empower all of the people around them and help them through their character arcs

From helping people stand up to abusive family members, to allowing others to gain the confidence they need to grow, to just decking an asshole real hard in the face

And not once does Yuuki steal other's glory. The final confrontation and the catharsis is always delivered by the person who is being helped. Because lover boy here is the supporting character in his own story

This all leads neatly into another point: the bonds we have with others

DAMN RIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS WE'RE GETTING CHAIN SYMBOLISM IN THIS BITCH!

Oh are we getting a message about how we're all links in the chain and the stronger each of us gets the stronger we all get? FUCK YEAH

Are we getting chains as a representation of a mutual bond of trust and respect, and get to see those bonds be used as a literal weapon to defeat a foe who is antithetical to that idea? ABSOLUTELY

TEAM WORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK, BABY!

But wait there's more! We got a character who can copy other people's skills and she also grows like crazy with each person she bonds with

We got teams of heroes besting villains who refuse to work with anyone

THAT'S THE SHONEN ANIME GOODNESS WE'RE HERE FOR!

(I mean this is technically seinen but who gives a shit, right?)

And that brings us finally to the third point, the series antagonists, and Kyouka's main goal

What makes a good leader?

So far we've focused on Kyouka and her ability, Slave, and how that allows her to help the people around her grow and encourages her to fight on the front line where she can be a shining example for all around her to follow

She treats everyone around her with trust and respect, even the boy who is literally her slave, and is by all metrics BEST GIRL!

Now all of that good shit doesn't mean much if we don't have anything to contrast and compare to

Enter Ren Yamashiro

gonna give y'all a second to simp for a bit before I continue

done staring at her legs? good. Anyways here's why she's awful!

Ren is the commander of the Anti-Demon Corps and easily the strongest character in the setting by a wide margin

She's also self centered, corrupt, physically AND emotionally abusive, horrifically petty, and likes dogs in the exact same way Makima from Chainsaw Man likes dogs

This is, of course, perfectly translated into her special ability, because this author loves having abilities inform characters

So not only does she have some absurd broken power that she has the power of anime and buddha on her side, BUT the way it manifests is as kanji covering her eyes whenever she activates her skills

Quite literally making so all she can see is her own power and greatness

AND her main use of her powers is to fly around, so she can be ABOVE everyone else

This isn't fucking subtle, but it sure as fuck gets the point across

This is a trait that Ren shares with ALL the main villains of the series. Each and everyone of them is blinded by their own greatness and is constantly looking down on others

Ren is just the least subtle. I guess they had to compensate for the fact that she isn't an actual literal evil god

And so all of those are put in opposition to Kyouka, whose goal is to overthrow Ren, become the new commander, and destroy Mato for good

The woman whose power makes her dependent on others, but that allows her to bring out the best in everyone she meets

A power that grows stronger the more people she helps and the more people help her in return

Standing up against all these people who refuse to rely on anything besides their own strength

That is why Kyouka is the shining example of a good leader!

Now here we are 2k words into this (OH DEAR GOD WHY AM I LIKE THIS), so what was the point of this journey?

Is it me recommending this manga to people and claiming it's genuinely "peak fiction"? OH GOD NO

This thing has so many issues and literally all of them stem from the fact that this is an ecchi harem manga story first and foremost.

Titillation always comes first over anything else, several of the smaller side characters eventually devolve into just different flavors of wanting to dom Yuuki, and that's not even going into all the pet play stuff featuring Ren

This is an unashamedly horny manga with a very specific brand of kink in mind and when I started reading it that was legit all I wanted out of it

But then it refused to be JUST that. It had an interesting story, fun action scenes, compelling characters, and a surprising amount of thought put into its themes

It's not a manga I'd recommend to most people at all, and it requires a considerable amount of tolerance for some capital H Horny anime bullshit

But honestly? If you're cool with that and want a fun and a little unhinged story you can do way worse than this

So what else is left to say except

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!!!!

[badchoicesworld]

hello there! i just found your blog and i love your writing for hobie, so i’d like to request another thing for him.

would you mind doing something about a transmasc vigilante reader who tags along with hobie on patrols and late night hangouts? hobie and the reader could diy their own costumes together :) maybe reader is black cat, another spiderperson, or whatever you want to come up with. thanks in advance, and i’ll probably request again soon!

hobie brown with a transgender, vigilante reader (ftm)

RAAHH thank you so much :]

i chose for the reader to be another spidersona, probably anarchist and super cool, hope this is okay! let me know if not

warnings: unsafe binding (there’s a warning ahead)

pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader

requests: open ! PLEASE

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

for you and hobie to get along so well and hang out outside of missions n such, i imagine you’re a spider-man who rejected miguel’s “invitation” to spider society. this is what might have led to you becoming a vigilante who’s occasionally recruited by spider society after some begging- or you’ve just been a vigilante from day one in your dimension.

but ! who’s likely to notice such a person? hobie, obviously. you two become menaces and no one looks forward to being in a room with you. hobie destroys their faith in the constitution while you’re reinforcing everything

during missions, you make a hell of a team ! there’s somehow this real nonchalant feeling to the atmosphere even if you’re punching down baddies

banter, plenty of it back and forth while swinging about and fighting for ur life

probably makes fun of your form or something playfully, makes a comment or two about a punch you’ve thrown “you call tha’ a punch?” “Naaah, nahnahnahnahnah. watch this,” probably does worse let’s be honest, throws the dirties punch known to man but it does the trick

you’re more stealth while hobie’s way more out there, style n all that

hobie dropping in on some operation to take down the big baddies while shredding away at his electric guitar, meanwhile he’s able to see you picking off people from vantage points

whenever you’ve gotta wait about for some patrols or just observe for a night, you two will find some sorta rooftop to perch on top of and patrol from there. but the view kills

you two probably have a sort of routine: completing missions together for the spider society, hobie then tags along for some vigilante work, then you both kick back at his place once the days come to an end

chill night consists of hobie subconsciously strumming at a note occasionally on his guitar while you talk about whatever together

a lot of complaining about the institution, probably how much miguel fucking sucks

depending on ur current situation with transitioning, given that hobie knows, mans is probably the most supportive person you’ll meet

hobie lives in a society that he actively chooses to protect despite being apart of the margin of people that are still severely oppressed to terrible degrees, be it for his race or how he chooses to express himself (in my head, hobie’s also a boy kisser). so i think that he has a certain passion for protecting those minority groups. you, as a trans man, sometimes get the hobie brown special treatment.

let’s you crash at his place whenever you need it, let’s you borrow his clothes n shit if they help you feel more masculine, will give you tips n tricks that either he uses or has heard work great for presenting masculine

does your makeup if you want it, like making your face look more chisel, fake facial hair or brows more blocky- that kinda shit.

if you’re yet to go through the execution process (top surgery), hobie’s ur guy (a terrible terrible influence)

if you have a binder, good for you- hobie is going to find it and customise it for you because he’s hilarious

probably does some like web stitching into it, lil embroidered parts that match his pins or something like “hobie was here” in his clapped handwriting

this isn’t anything new, you two have this little game going on where you just steal and tag each others things for shits and giggles. his best work? punk-ifying your binders with those like spikes he has on his jackets shoulder pads

firm believer in trans men being shirtless in a binder is normalising something that should’ve been from the beginning- probably also marched a free the titties campaign for all body types and identities cause they aren’t inherently sexual and shouldn’t be (if cis men can, why can’t cis women, y’know?)

if he accidentally damages your shit he’ll either fix or replace it, maybe even make something to compensate

or it becomes part of the fit

these lil things have helped personalise your things greatly- there’s nice little details all over that make you both crack smiles

makes sure that throughout missions you’re good if you’re binding, which he honestly just doesn’t dictate. won’t be the type to tell you off for wearing it too long or during missions, it’s not your fault that you’re just doing what makes you feel more like yourself

instead just makes sure that you’re well rested after the missions over and does things for you so you don’t strain

(DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. I WILL FIND YOU.)

if by some unfortunate twist of fate you don’t have a binder, hobie will probably diy you one. argues that they can be mass produced by corporations, why can’t he make one by hand? just one more win for the anarchists

diy binders are dangerous, especially if they’re not made right. i’d like to think hobie would try his best, but i imagine he doesn’t have access to the right materials

in this case, he probably rips apart his shit trying to find the right elastic cloths for your safety

that, or he makes a makeshift binders just a bit looser than it should be to reduce the risk of hurting you.

absolute worst case scenario ? could honestly fashion something out of webs (i have a spidersona that does this) mans a genius, he’ll figure something out

positive ? binder looks sick since he makes it

(ok ur safe, continue)

if you’ve got top surgery, good for u, hobie will have ur head if you don’t take the appropriate recovery time

if you are involved with spider society, he either takes your missions for you or absolutely terrorises miguel into not giving you any

you think it’s just a subconscious, casual thing that hobie does but he always manages to slip a “lad” “boy” “man” into his sentences whenever speaking to or about you. gender affirmations innit

that being said, hobie views you as a man wholeheartedly

hobie’s into physical touch so probably got an arm slung around your shoulder, tons of playfully nudges whenever he sees fit (often)

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i also wanna stress rq that the way i portray hobie; he’s so incredibly supportive, hype man, but he’s not this sunshine and rainbows thing i’ve seen some people portray him as

he’s laid back, nonchalant but can get excited (like w the whole “miles my guy” scene where he’s so hype)

thinks/knows he’s hot shit but it doesn’t make him arrogant. man just knows what he’s capable of and gets to be laid back thanks to it

[tealclover]

This Way Out

So, Tails slipped up. Not only did he manage to get himself snagged, but he dragged Belle into this with him. To make matters worse, Starline was unbearably smug about the whole thing. Yeah, yeah, he got the Sonic the Hedgehog’s sidekick. Whoop-de-friggin-doo.

Just when Tails was starting to prove himself again. Ugh. How embarrassing. 

Well, enough of that. He promised Sonic he’d be fine, and he intended to keep his word. All he had to do was find a way to get Belle and himself out safely. … But who exactly were those two Mobians hanging around the facility?

(Alternate ending to Sonic IDW Issue #36, featuring a snarky fox. Some mild angst.)

Even before fully regaining consciousness, Tails knew he was in for a headache. And not just literally, though the pulsing in his temple was certainly noteworthy.

For starters, before even opening his eyes, he was lying stiffly on his back of all places. Tails never slept on his back if he could help it – his namesakes made resting much more reasonable on his side or belly. Sleeping on his tails was both uncomfortable and impractical. Impractical because it left his belly and other more vulnerable parts exposed. Uncomfortable due to the cold and the fact that his namesakes trapped underneath him, occasionally numb from lack of bloodflow. Which they were. But so were his arms and his legs, and, oh, he couldn’t move at all actually. 

It was probably too much to hope that that beeping indicated that he’d spent the last fifteen hours on a stone-hard hospital bed, seeing how his last waking recollection involved him and Belle separating, tons of snow, and…

Starline. Who wanted to kidnap him. For supposedly scientific purposes.

Ugh.

With no small amount of trepidation, the fox bleerily opened his eyes. He was immediately rewarded for his efforts with too much light why couldn’t he live like the nocturnal creatures foxes were meant to be and a sinister chuckle that grated on his nerves.

“Ah, Young Master Prower. I see you are awake.”

Yup. And he wished he wasn’t.

“Starline.” Oof. Voice crack. That wasn’t doing his credibility any favors. How long had he been out? He coughed, trying to get his voice back before roughly continuing: “I hope you’ve got a five star meal on the way; otherwise I’m going to have to give this stay a poor review. Don’t tell me this is a hospital bed,” he grimaced at the surface he was strapped to, arms, tails, and all. He was trapped for the time being, but appeared to be intact, at least. If the bindings were ignored, he could have passed for a patient – the presence of the finger pulse oximeter amongst other diagnostic tools were certainly intriguing, if not concerning. Were those vials of blood his? “Or do. Cause I’m not sure there’s much I can do for you if you think it’s acceptable to let your guests sleep on tables.”

The platypus stared at him for a few seconds, like he hadn’t expected the witty response. It was actually kind of funny to watch him visibly reboot and reassess the fox. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose you were raised by Sonic. It makes sense that you would share his poor taste in humor.”

“It clearly beats your taste in decor,” Tails sniped back. Starline hummed at that.

“Public perception of you paints you to be a polite boy genius. It seems that isn’t entirely true.”

Tails shrugged. Or tried to, anyway. “The general population wouldn’t consider strapping me to an examination table. Care to explain that, by the way?”

Starline smiled a sweet-sick smile. “Oh, you’re curious, are you? To be quite frank, I want to see if you can find out. Why don’t you and Miss Belle take a moment to catch up?”

Tails froze. “Belle?”

“I'm here, Tails…” the voice came from his left. He peered over as far as he could to see the robotic marionette on a second table a short distance away. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but from what he could see of her… she looked distraught. Not fearful, necessarily, but despairing, which was somehow even more worrisome. 

“Belle, are you okay?” He asked gently. She sniffled, ducking her head into her chest as best as she could. Were those… tear tracks on her cheeks? She could cry? Why was she crying? He took a second to shoot a gleeful Starline a sharp glare before refocusing on his newest companion. “Belle, are you hurt?” 

“... No,” she whispered.

Tails didn’t know if he believed that, but he didn’t know how to press the issue with the correct amount of sensitivity, especially with Starline hovering over them. What a creep. Couldn’t he leave? “Okay… okay. It’s going to be alright, I promise.” He waited for Belle’s tiny nod before continuing. “How long have you been active?”

“About… twenty minutes. I’ve been offline s-since the avalanche. I… I’m sorry, Tails. You came back for me and now-”

“I’m not worried about that, Belle,” he told her, firmly but not unkindly. “We’ll figure it out. Can you tell me what you remember?”

“I…” She made a strangled sound, but forced herself to continue. “My d-d… my creator was Mr. Tinker.” Tails gut sank. He wasn’t surprised, not with their matching attire, but it was still a sad confirmation to hear. “That… that jerk figured it out. He, he told me-” she hiccuped again. “It’s his fault Mr. Tinker is gone. He changed him into Eggman.”

“... I’m sorry, Belle.” What could he say to that? This wasn’t something he could fix with a wrench and a bit of mechanical know-how. Belle was a robot, but her feelings were hardly artificial. After Emerl, Gamma, and their successors, Tails was very well aware of that. She was just as much of a person as anyone organic; something that was clear to him from the moment they met. He couldn’t just reprogram her to feel better. Or, well, maybe he could, but that wouldn’t be right. To do so would likely be robbing her memories and cheapening her experiences, changing who she was in the process. It wouldn’t truly fix anything; frankly, it would likely lead to an identity crisis later on.

And so, all he had to offer her was kindness, and time to recover once they escaped.

“I… don’t know how to help with Mr. Tinker, but my friends and I would be happy to have you, if you want. I have space for you back at my workshop, and the Restoration accepts anyone who wants to to have a part of it. If you want a home, we’ll give you one. We can try to figure out the rest in time.”

Belle was quiet. Finally, she tearfully confessed, “That would be nice.”

He offered her a smile even though she still wasn’t looking. “I’m glad you think so. We’ll do our best to make it worth your while.” He hesitantly continued. “Did Starline do anything else?”

She shook her head. “He just… listened to me talk a-about Dad. About home, Windmill Village, and how the villagers kicked me out after the Metal Virus cleared up. I got so mad, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He doesn’t care at all about what he did. He only wanted the code.”

“Code…?” At that, Tails shot another glance in their captor’s direction, though the platypus had since turned his attention to the monitor at Tails’ side, turned so that the fox couldn’t read any of the details. Were Belle’s readings stashed away in that device? … No. At least, it wasn’t just her information. Starline was gathering his vitals as well. But why? From the sounds of things, he was trying to get a reaction out of Belle earlier, and now, he was… testing Tails? Did he truly want him to uncover the motivations behind their kidnappings or was he simply fishing for another set of reactions from a different subject? He wouldn’t put it past Starline to have something of a sadistic streak – most villains lately did – but not one without purpose. If that was all he did, there had to have been some sort of incentive, something to be gained…

Why him? Why Belle? Her thoughts and feelings, and his-

Was he trying to record them both?

Was Starline in his head right now? 

A delighted laugh at his side told him that yes, he probably was.

“Positively remarkable, young Master Prower! You are truly one of a kind.” The platypus’ hands clapped together. “It is no wonder Sonic has prevailed for so long! He is powerful on his own, but you, you can keep pace with him, you adapt to his spontaneity and can plan in the heat of the moment so that he is successful in his every endeavor, no matter how foolish or impossible.  It is little wonder that the two of you alone keep Doctor Eggman on his toes, despite his armies, his keen intellect, and his prowess…” He stood to approach Tails again, looking down upon him with glee. “You truly are the greatest of combinations.”

That would have been a heart-warming compliment, had it not come from the mouth of a madman. As it stood, the fox had to resist the urge to squirm under that predatory gaze. He would not give Belle another reason to be afraid. 

“And, in spite of knowing all of that,” Tails mildly remarked, “you brought me straight to your base.”

Starline was likely to overestimate himself. In his eyes, he had a useful enemy at his mercy. He was less likely to seriously consider the fact that, in the process, he had invited that very foe into his base, to say nothing of the others that would come knocking down his door later.

… Let him read those thoughts.

“Is that a threat?” The doctor mockingly inquired, unfazed and clearly quite confident. “You hardly have the advantage, fox.”

“I've gotten out of stickier situations.” This wasn't even the first time somebody thought to make a labrat of him, his first encounter with the Deadly Six coming to mind. … Hopefully, this wasn't going to become a trend. 

“Perhaps, but I've taken precautions. Escape won't come easily for you.” The villain adjusted his glove with a self-assured smirk. “You are now quite the valuable asset to my plans.”

“Which are…?” Tails pressed, earning him a condescending pat on the head that made his skin crawl.

“All in due time, little specimen. As it stands, I've already shared too much with you, and I really must get back to work. You have such fascinating insights; it’s a pity we won’t be discussing this further, seeing how you will have no recollection of this conversation,” he coolly lamented, hand shifting from his bangs to his eyes.

“Now, it is time for you to go back to sleep.”

So... yup! Here's a glimpse of a brainworm I've had for a little while regarding Issue #36. It's a little rough and is absolutely a WIP (the end is particularly prone to change), but I felt like sharing a bit of it! Hope whoever finds it likes it! :)

[bengiyo]

Knock Knock Boys Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Latte took Almond to the beach so he could relax and unwind. While there, he tried to teach Almond how to pick up strangers, but got concerned when Almond intentionally got drunk too fast. He pulled Almond out of that situation and took him back to their room where they kissed for the first time in a scene full of complex emotional layers. Latte stopped them before it went too far, and later shared his own family beach trip trauma. Meanwhile, Thanwa is back with Max and has decided to move back in with him. Peak waited too long, and so Thanwa is choosing to make pragmatic choices in his life to accept a job he doesn’t like and be with a man who isn’t great to him because he’s wealthy.

Trigger warning for 35:00 to 35:30 for attempted sexual assault.

Ew, is MAX the one who is uploading the clips??

I do love the commitment to using Almond waking up Latte as a framing device for the state of the house.

Oh, Peak, you tried.

What in the Princess Leia is this towel arrangement on his head?

These boys are crumbling so fast without Thanwa feeding them.

Okay, I feel better. Thanwa only intends to stay with Max briefly and is not giving him any suckface.

I’m really glad they got Pak for this role. He put a lot of power into that reconciliation scene with Almond and Latte. I like that they’re letting Almond have both desires: Yes he wants to prove his innocence, and yes he wants to help his friend. These are not at cross purposes.

Thank you, Lukpeach. We gotta actually solve the problem.

Gays, let’s please get it together. Y’all are making me feel awkward and I’m not even at this restaurant.

Peak, I understand you, and I am also so frustrated with you.

There’s something so perfect from the costuming of Thanwa in these clothes. They aren’t sitting correctly on him. He looks uncomfortable.

THIS LOOKING BACK AND MISSING EACH OTHER IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

I am in my 30s and spent my 20s either hustling or working in small businesses. There’s way too much chatter in the discourse about red and green flag human beings that strips them of nuance and personality. Let’s talk about a real red flag from a fucking job: Thanwa has told these food reviewer people that he can’t afford to do this little side gig for them, and then they call him out of the blue trying to pressure him into a 3 month probation for a 6 month job, and he must accept today because they’re the ones in a bind? HELL THE FUCK NO. DO NOT WORK FOR THOSE PEOPLE.

I’m glad Peak called Sean. He’s knows he’s the reliable one in this group.

I see you, Lukpeach. She is reaping! She invested early and it is paying off!

Thanwa is in his 20s. Now is the time for him to take these kinds of risks. I hope this works out for him, but keep your eyes open,

Latte has excellent taste in men. I love how every person we’ve seen Latte reconnect with, they all seem to have enjoyed their time with him and are happy to see him again.

Max, if I see you on the streets it’s on sight.

Goddamn, he’s trying to film Thanwa, too. I’m sick of this man.

Kick his ass, Jumper!!

That’s right, Sean, make sure you get your licks in, too!

Oh, what a messy final scene! Thanwa is totally fine to feel hurt about being accused here, but I also don’t think that Peak is off-base to think that Thanwa is trying to protect Max. He doesn’t know what has happened between them because neither of them has shared the important things.

This show continues to hold together! I’m so relieved. Curious where they go next, and if Max just disappears or manages to use his wealth to circumvent trouble. Also worried about potential video of Thanwa also becoming public and causing problems for him in this new role he just took.

[lizaluvsthis]

A Chamber of Burning Souls - Chapter 1

Fanfic Written and Illustrated by @lizaluvsthis

Idea of creation by @itsajjanea

●■●

Summary: It's Prom and everyone is invited to celebrate at Square Plaza, having no partners left to find. SMG4 and SMG3 both paired together.

With Four having no experience of what Prom is at all, he happens to find himself binded with his ex rival filled with complicated thoughts.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Sun and Moon, fluff, romance, drama, hurt/comfort, angst, gay fruits are real, LOVE IS IN THE AIR YALL

Relationships:

SMG4/SMG3

Mario & Meggy Spletzer

Meggy & SMG4

Mario & SMG4

Mario & SMG3

Meggy/Tari

Luigi/Bowser

Mario/Spaghetti¿

Bob & Mario

Chapter: 1 - A Night Bring Out

thus the sun has continued to set from the horizon as four is calmly watching the view afar, the cold breeze blew through his hair sitting outside.

"SMG4?" Mario called his bestfriend, seeing him sitting on a chair admiring the view. Mario snuck behind him, distracted "still having those gay thoughts?" He chuckled, making four bounce from his chair with a light scare from the fat italian.

"N-No I'm not!" He brushed off the dirt from his blue colored suit. Man does he love how his formal attire looked, where he can move freely and relaxed.

"You sureee????" "Yes I am." He looked away from Mario with a light pink faded blush surrounding his face. "Have you uhh found a partner?" SMG4 looked at Mario.

"I'm with bob, he said his girlfriend can't attend" "what about the others?" "Hmmmmmm" Mario did his best to remember the pairings from his team.

"Meggy is in pairs with Tari, Saiko is with Kaizo since they're both hosting a side played oncore songs, Boopkins is- he's with his waifu bed, Chris with Swag, Melony is just- sleeping-" figures. Melony is always too tired whenever she's awake, but for some reason- it feels like he won't be getting in partners with anyone else...

"Andd uhhh for Luigi- luigi is-" SMG4 shot a glance of the familiar green colored signature and ran. "Hey! SMG4?" Mario saw Four rush out of there and got back from the room to talk to luigi.

"Hey! Luigi..." "wah? SMG4? What is it?" "Do you want to be partners with me for prom?" Luigi eye-d to another side and furrowed his eyes giving him a smile. "Oh- uh- sorry SMG4 I'm already left partners with someone..."

"Oh come on! I bet I can still be as good as that partner this is bullsh-t!" SMG4 cursed out loud, hearing something approach to him was a giant... lizard-?

"Ahe- ahem!" SMG4 gulped looking upwards to reveal, it was bowser out of all people. He was tossed by a massive force by bowser across the room, with no one to notice.

"Ow..." his back couldn't move after cracking a wall. "SMG4! Are you okay?!" The voice sounded nothing like Mario, a man reached out a hand to help him get up.

"Yes I'm..." He paused, looking up to see the person. SMG3... his former ex rival... a 'friend'... is there to attend the prom as well.

He stared at his face for a moment, and boy how he felt something inside him flutter and beat. "I'm alright..." He finally gave him a reply, getting back up from the floor acting like nothing happened.

"You got yourself tossed in that room dude- you sure you're alright?" SMG4 felt distracted by looking at his 'friend' from top to bottom.

He had his hair up in a bun, (honestly- when did he missed out the part he had long hair?) His looks are still the same but it came out more handsome than the last time he saw him without a hat on, his dark purple silk suit that the light reflects on the shades, he was wearing a different gloves that has the usual roman numeral but with white color text with black gloves filled.

His magenta necktie, his long black pants, shining clean black shoes that exposed from his view. Since WHEN did SMG3 became this more of a neat character to get so- well dressed...?

Or its just four not knowing how fashion works-

"Yeah I'm hurt a little bit but I'll be fine-" he gave him a nervous chuckle, not wanting three to feel worried of him. SMG3 wanted to speak about this but he didn't find the urge to do so. Now that his soft spot might reveal a bit too much.

"You got invited too huh?" SMG3 nodded. "I uhh- couldn't find a decent partner to pair up with... not even when I enjoy less party talks yet I still come here..." He looked at the other of the members who are currently talking with the other people.

"You haven't- found a pair yet?" SMG4 asked again, he wondered why Three even came here despite knowing that he hates occassional events except for evil villain anniversaries or such as getting paid.

But for just this time, he attended anyway. "No I haven't... thats why I'm asking several of the people here- but they all already found one..." SMG3 hugged his stomach, the felt of discomfort attempting on asking for someone to be his partner and didn't work out too well when you're bad at talking in public.

More as of being socially awkward to people that gave out his anxiety... but to SMG4 however, he felt safe to be around with yet he wasnt even sure why.

His ex rival just felt too safe to be with, he didnt have complains for that. It felt nice...

Because he'd never felt needed by any other people from his life...

SMG4 is unsure at this state he's on with, he struggled and hesitated to put out the words of apologizing. He wasn't used to this type of sensitive talk.

"I also haven't found mine yet-" he started to stare at those red crimson eyes... "do you... want to be partners with me instead?" Out of the ordinary, SMG3's face lit up after hearing SMG4 say that.

Did he just hear this right. Is it actually true that Four is asking him out to be his... his... HIS... he turned red second by second.

"I-I uhh... Yeah sure whatever- just try not to mess things up- you baka..." the blue held out his hand for three to grab on, as four smiled still with three on being a tsundere. It never gets old.

Three accepted, embracing his left hand with four colliding in. With now both fingers interlocked, that was purposely done by SMG4.

"Dude- are you TRYING to make things look even more gayer?" SMG3 looked down at both of the hands then back to the man himself.

"Just- incase..." SMG4 pouted, he couldn't come up with a reason. He did this on purpose and he'd been making it a bit more awkward with this between just him and three.

The chattering went low as the host made his way out of the door and welcomed everyone.

"Welcome to the square plaza everyone! We are so excited to gather you all for our occasional prom! Now go out there and get yourself started!"

He offered to everyone by stepping aside from the open door, being a gentleman to let everyone inside.

"Well... here it goes..." SMG4 walked forward as Three followed a few steps near, little did four know is that Three kept glancing at their interlocked hands together thinking the forms of something special...

Something... something that also made SMG4 feel the same but more tensed...

SMG4 couldn't process much of the things that are currently happening to him right now. Why has this have to go very wrong yet right at the same time? Why did he have to come even tho he didn't want to?

He'd started to overthink with all of his actions that he had made. In regret...

(Why did I even came here... I should've stayed at the castle...) He clinched the hand even tighter, holding Three's.

But it had made him thought, for any other reasons it somehow made him feel glad that he was there.

"Good evening everyone! We are all gathered here for a special event- aka prom." The other host guestured their hand with the obvious sign.

"The dance will begin at 7pm, just to say you can go talk to any other people here or have some snacks while everyone enjoys their stay!" The microphone turns off, entering a soothing audio played in the background.

-A Night To Remember by beabadoobee & Laufey-

The man in purple looked at the sparkling chandelier placed right on top of the ceiling the lights that glimmered through the glass.

Swore I'd seen you before

Within the atmosphere flowing through the colors of pink, red, and purple. Mixtures of blue, the colors fading through the room.

Watched you walk through the door

The beam of light, shining across Four's face with an escape of the light. Reflecting through his blue colored eyes that took notice of the red ones.

Somethin' in your eye

Reminded me of somebody I used to know

Damn... SMG4 looked glorious... he hated that...

Three's eyes happen to gaze upon to Four's with the room surrounded by the soft sounds, they both met each others eyes.

You touched my back

I took your hand

Somethin' from your touch felt shockingly familiar

He didn't know what that feeling was, it just felt right for him to do. If this would only be only focused to him, where would his thoughts go?

And I swore I'd seen you before

Oh, I swore I'd seen you before...

They both felt so lost, but being there together with him?

Underneath the sheets

You enchanted me

And whispered sweet nothings in my ear

It felt romantic...

I shivered beneath you

All wrapped up in embers

It was a night... to remem-

"Is it just me or are you both staring goo goo eyes at each other thats super gay-" The fat italian called them both out ruinimg their silence.

"SHUT UP YOU ASS" SMG3 looked at Mario annoyed, he who had ruined their moment. "We're not gay!" SMG4 cried out loud, with the crowd bringing their attention from his scream. He smiled to fill out the apology trying his best not to disrupt them.

SMG4 turned his head back to Mario and eyed Three. "It seemed like it-" he shrugged his shoulder, drinking an orange juice from the cup.

"Look you idiot- I came here to get over with the party. I'm not saying I'm a party pooper in this, I was only trying to..." he gave a pregnant pause after realizing that he had almost revealed his words to him.

"To- uh- not miss out on the occassions and stuff..." his eyes darted towards Mario after he shot up his eyes with Four.

He checked the time...

6:55 pm

Almost seven o-clock before the dance begins, and just being in there with him... it felt like time passes by too quickly by seconds...

"Oh! I think I should go now- Mario wishes you two gay boys goodluck!" He puts a thumbs up to the both of them and headed to Bob's direction.

The two looked at each other in disbelief, had they both been staring too long? Did the song dragged them away into this...?

How can this be?

SMG4 is unsure, he was too scared about this feeling. Little does he know is that Three also scattered with the same thing as well...

End of Chapter 1...

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