#it'll never compare to actual clothes

[yours-the-author]

I felt like experimenting with my style a little today and gave Reginald clothes! Specifically, I gave him the outfit I had him wear in this one shot that I wrote; it doesn't come across very well, but it was fun to do, so I'll give it that. Who doesn't want to see Reginald in a dress (or in this case, an outfit that's both a dress and a suit)? Unfortunately, I think my style isn't cut out for anything more complicated than this (and believe me, it was complicated), so I probably won't do many more like this. Just thought I'd share it!

[roonotrue]

Day 1 - Ice Skating with Vil!

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Prologue, Day 2

Prompt: In the end Epel is the one who manages to convince a housewarden to help, specifically getting Vil to help distract the MC while he and the other freshies enact their plan, which is now being referred to as Operation 'Christmas Miracle!'

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and the reader is called 'MC/Prefect.' The reader also knows how to ice skate but hasn't in a while. (I am too scared to ever try ice skating, but for those of you who do Merry Christmas.)

Included Characters: Vil Schoenheit

Warnings: Mild Swearing.

Tags: @twistedcece

~~~

It's been weeks since you spoke with your fellow freshmen about the winter holidays in your world, and the cold has really come rushing in full force at NRC.

Snow blankets the ground, and students wear thick layers to class to keep warm.

You didn't really have any thick layers to bundle up in, but luckily Professor Crewel noticed this when you and Grim came into class a Prefect and Cat-shaped popsicle, ten minutes late. He then personally saw to yell at Crowley in his office for twenty whole minutes about letting you freeze to death.

So now you have a winter coat.

Big enough for Grim to hide in with you when heading to class. Maybe you can wrangle some gloves out of him to if you play your cards right.

But that's none of this is the point. The point is, it's cold enough to go ice skating on the pond outside the Alchemy Workshop.

Which Vil invited you to go do.

Vil.

Vil Schoenheit.

Invited you.

To go... Ice skating.

The famous model and actor, and the Housewarden of Pomefiore (though much less relevant than the FAMOUS MODEL AND ACTOR part) invited YOU... To go ice skating with him.

Okay, look, it's not that you find it hard to believe (you do actually find it very hard to believe), it's just that... Vil is... Vil.

And you're you. In his eyes, a potato. Not that you mind. Most people are potatoes compared to Vil Scheonheit, but also, potatoes aren't that bad of a comparison.

One of the most diverse ingredients and stand-alone foods in this world and yours. Easily able to fit into any dish or meal as a main ingredient or a side.

You'd say since coming to NRC, you fit that description kind of well.

The point is, you and Vil are friends, but like, you've never gone and done something alone with him like this. You'd asked if other Pomefiore students might be there (namely Rook or Epel), but he'd said it'd just be you two.

Alone. Without one of the idiots (read: friends) in your life (take your pick, there are many), contributing to, or leading the conversation.

You're totally not overthinking this or anything.

You try way too hard to wear something nicer than usual- but as mentioned before, you don't have a ton of warm clothes. And they'll be covered by your coat anyway so why the hell does it matter?

Because it's Vil. That's why it matters. You want to look nice.

"You know, I still think the first shirt was the nicest." Grim mutters between bites of tuna.

Which you don't appreciate considering you gave him that can so he'd shut up for a minute.

"It had a hole in it, Grim. Do you really think Vil wouldn't notice that?" You scoff, searching your closet for another nicer button-up.

The only good one you have is for your school uniform, but it needs to be washed, and you don't have time for that- Vil is literally on his way to pick you up.

"No, cuz it'll be hidden under the coat! Now hurry up, he just texted you he's here."

"What!?" You rush to your phone, quickly throwing on the shirt, rushing to button it up as you see the text.

"Okay, okay, okay- Uh, I left another can of tuna on the counter for you if you get hungry while I'm gone, and if anyone swings by needing me for something- I'm dead, got it?" You tell Grim, putting on your coat.

"Sure thing, henchhuman! Stay out as late as you need, the Great Grim has got things handled!" He says with a large smile, way too excited for you to leave.

Normally he complains anytime you go somewhere without him and get's all grumpy or will end up sneaking along after you. 

But today, he's been all too happy to help you get ready and push you out the door.

It's suspicious. He's been acting suspiciously for the last two weeks.

So have the others. Avoiding you, getting anxious and awkward when you're around. Lying.

You're not an idiot. They're up to something. You can't quite figure out what exactly but you can reckon it's probably something that you're going to have to fix later.

But right now, you've got more pressing issues.

Like stopping at the hall mirror to make sure your hair isn't messed up, and your skin's not greasy or anything.

When you open the door Vil is, as always, the vision of perfection. Dressed snuggly in a deep blue winter coat, black leather gloves, and a white fur scarf, his hair tied back in a bun, only the front half left loose to frame his face as it usually does.

His violet eyes glimmer when he sees you, swiftly putting his phone back in his pocket.

"There you are, are you ready to go?" He smiles.

"Yep!" You chuckle as you rub your hands together at the cold breeze that comes rushing in from outside.

It snowed particularly hard last night, so classes had been canceled today. But right now, the sky is clear, and the fresh snow sparkles under the late morning light.

The motion, however, catches Vil's eye, whose smile drops as he looks you up and down and raises a brow.

"It's quite cold out, MC, are you sure you don't want to put on gloves? And a scarf you be a good idea too. And maybe a different coat, that one simply is not your color, who did you let pick it out, Crowley? It hardly looks warm enough for the weather." He asks, poking at the sleeve of the item.

Actually, yes, he did pick it out. The cheapest one he could find.

"It's the only coat I have, and I don't have any gloves or anything. It's fine though, I've gotten pretty used to the cold by now." You laugh it off, and Vil's eyes narrow.

"Hm. Very well, let's just get going, I'm sure we can swing by Sam's shop and pick you up something." He nods, resolute.

"Oh, I don't really have any money for it. Not if I want to eat something other than the cheap microwave meals Crowley leaves for me over break." You wave your hands, stepping outside and closing the door before you let any more heat out.

It was hard enough getting the furnace working, you're not wasting a single second of the warmth it provides before it breaks again.

"Microwave meals!? Is that birdbrained idiot trying to kill you!? Do you know how many preservatives and chemicals are in those!?" Vil looks horrified and you can't help but chuckle, scratching at the back of your head nervously.

"Well, food is food, as Ruggie would say. We can worry more about it later if you'd like, but I'd really like to have some sort of fun on my snow day, don't you?" You ask, trying to change the subject.

The housewarden cringes at the idea of dropping the subject, but lets out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. We will be talking about this later though. Or at least I'll be talking with Crowley next housewarden's meeting." He mumbles the last bit as he grabs your arm, looping it through his.

Oh. Oh.

He leads the way down Ramshackle steps towards the gate. And you try not to think about you two looking awfully a lot like a couple.

Ice skating is a common winter date where you're from... And then you have a thought.

A stomach-dropping thought.

Is this a date?

You nearly stumble to a stop at the thought.

You didn't think to ask. Why would you!? It was such a random out-of-the-blue offer! You didn't think 'Would you like to go ice skating with me today?' translated to anything nonplatonic!

It's probably not a date. Probably.

So you quickly decide to distract yourself from the warmth radiating from where your and Vil's arms are locked.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know what's up with Epel lately? He and the others have been avoiding me. I think they're planning something, but I don't know what." You mention, and Vil glances at you with a small smirk.

"It just so happens I do. And trust me, it's nothing to worry about. Let's just focus on us today, yes?"

Oh, this might be a fucking date.

Fuuuuuuuck.

You would have tried so much harder to look nicer if you'd realized this sooner!

"O-okay. Well, how have you been with all the cold weather? Are you excited for the break?" You ask, suddenly feeling very nervous.

"I don't mind the cold, it dries out the skin, but simply adding an extra hydration step to my skincare routine in the morning and night is a simple fix for it." He informs and you smile.

"I've tried that face scrub stuff you got for me, and it works really well. Smells nice too. I'm almost out of it, so I'll have to save up for some more." You mention, the gift- or well, 'charity' as he called it at the time a few months ago, of skincare products.

It was nice of him, and you're pretty sure it was a 'thank you' for helping him during his overblot. Which is more than you got from Leona.

You've been able to set up a routine for yourself with it, probably nothing as complicated as his routine, but you're proud to say you have seen some improvements.

"Oh? I'm glad, I wasn't sure you'd use any of them, Epel certainly doesn't." He scoffs, and you chuckle.

"Yet somehow has incredible skin." You remark as you walk out the gate and towards the Alchemy Workshop

"I know, as to how he got so lucky when all he does is wash it with water and a cloth in the morning- sometimes- I will never understand." Vil sighs, bringing a hand to his head in disappointment.

"Well, at least he's got you to look out for him. Wish I were so lucky to have gotten the fair Vil Schoenheit as a guide throughout my time here at NRC. All I got was Crowley." You sigh, unintentionally leaning into him as a cold breeze passes through.

"Hm, well, if you'd like I can certainly dedicate some of my time to help you with self-care and style? And trust me, it's no burden on me. After all, if we're going to be seen together more, it ought to be my job to make sure you look good enough to impress. I want the world to see you as beautiful on the outside as I know you are on the inside." He meets your wide-eyed gaze with a soft smile.

There's a fondness in his eyes that you don't think you've ever seen before.

A fondness meant just for you.

"Oh my, are you sure you're not cold? Your face is all red." He asks, though there's a knowing look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

Oh, he's teasing you.

"I'm fine! I just didn't expect that! I don't get compliments often, you know?" You turn away, focusing on the path ahead of you.

"Oh, I doubt that sweet potato, with how selfless and determined you are? There are a lot of people here at NRC who should be singing your praises for everything you do for them." He brings his other free hand to rest on top of your arm, still locked with his.

"Well, all I really hear is people telling me that I shouldn't be so kind, or that I'm naive, too trusting, too generous, and foolish for never requesting anything in return... Sometimes it's like none of the students here even know what kindness is, the way they react to it." You can see the Alchemy Workshop ahead of you.

"Hm, I see. Well, I might agree in some aspects that you're too trusting and generous at times, but for the most part, it's... Not a bad thing. You've helped people, MC, even at your own detriment, and though the idea of you continuing to do so worries me, I know you will. Because you have a good heart. You care about people, even when they don't deserve your care. It's admirable." He sighs wistfully, staring off ahead, the condensation of his breath floating in the icy air around his face.

You pause when you reach the Alchemy Workshop, looking at him as he turns to you questioningly.

"... Thanks, Vil. You have a good heart too. Even if you don't show it very often. You look after your dormmates and underclassmen, you make sure they're taking care of themselves, eating healthy, and doing well in school. You encourage their passions a lot, even Epel's love for Spelldrive, despite not liking the sport yourself. You have your own way of caring about people, it's a more 'tough love' style than mine, but it's still just as admirable." You know he's thinking back to his own overblot and behavior leading up to it.

To be honest, it was bad, but people are more than just their worst moments.

And perhaps that is you being too forgiving, but empathy is something that NRC has been lacking for a long time. So perhaps it's just your cross to bear.

Vil meets your eyes for a long moment, thoughts swirling around those long lashes and pretty lavender irises.

"The way you're able to see people, sweet potato... It's a remarkable ability, you know that right?" He finally smiles, and it remains the most beautiful sight you've ever known.

"A blessing and a curse at times. Now come on, I wanna ice skate!" You laugh and pull at the connection of your arms to usher him forward.

"So you do know how? I never thought to ask, but I figured if you didn't I could teach you." Vil inquires as you walk around the building to see the frozen pond.

It looks beautiful, sparkling in the daylight. There are a few students on the other side skating, but they're far enough that you and Vil can still skate with plenty of room. It's a big pond after all.

"Kind of, I haven't in a while, so I might be a bit rusty- and certainly not as elegant as I'm sure you are." Of all the talents for Vil Schoenheit to have, ice skating may be the least surprising.

It's a beautiful hobby. Elegant, graceful, refined, and mature. All words that can describe ice skating and Vil.

"I only started learning a few years ago, and only really in the wintertime when I'm home alone on break. I picked it up to pass the time." He explains, walking you over to the pond edge where two bags sit- a note attached.

"You're alone during winter break?" You ask, slightly hesitant, not wanting it to be a sensitive topic, but he probably wouldn't have mentioned it if it was, right?

"Yes, my father's work schedule is usually packed, so he's not home often. I have the house to myself for the most part, save for the housekeepers." He picks up the note (you see that it's signed 'from Rook') and opens the bag nearest so you both can see the white ice skates inside.

"Oh, well, you can always call or text me during break if you get bored. I'd enjoy hearing from you." You grab the other bag as he hands it to you (ignoring how your hands brush), and he chuckles.

"I just might, sweet potato. Here, I sent Rook to buy these for you, so don't worry about returning them to me." He tells you.

You brush snow off a nearby tree stump and sit down to put them on. They fit perfectly, and you don't even want to begin to guess how Rook got your shoe size.

"You sure? I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it. Consider them one of your gifts. Now, let's go, we don't have all day." 

Wait, one of your what-

You stumble a bit and Vil's arm darts out to steady you.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine, just haven't worn a pair of these in a while!" You laugh it off, and you both make your way to the ice.

Vil is as elegant as you thought he'd be, gliding across the ice smoothly. You have a rocky start, nearly slipping straight onto your butt the moment you touch the ice, but you find your balance quickly.

The memories of your last time skating flow back to the forefront of your mind, and you manage to not look like a complete fool gliding across the ice with Vil.

"Gosh, it feels like so long ago since I last did this!" You laugh, doing slow wide circles around the ice with Vil.

"Hm, it is a rather elegant winter activity, we could make it a tradition if you'd like? Coming to ice skate before winter break. It would keep either of us from getting too rusty and I can give you some of the hydrating face masks I use in the morning and night to keep your face from getting dry- and lip balm, chapped lips will not be accepted while we're together." He asks you, and you turn to him, skating in front of him backward.

It's a bold offer. Everything about Vil had been bold today. Does he truly like you? Like, like-like you?

You certainly like-like him.

By the seven you sound like a middle schooler with their first ever crush. Hell, you've certainly felt like one for... Awhile now.

Every time you're near him, acting like a blushing idiot, twirling your hair and giggling. You're not actually doing either of those things, but you sure feel like it!

Ever since his overblot, he's been a consistent voice of reason in your life, helping you curb the chaotic tendencies of those around you every time he's around.

And somewhere along the line, you've developed that terrible fluttering in your stomach that people call a crush every time he speaks to you. Or offers to help with something. Or looks at you. Or calls you 'sweet potato' which really only started just before Halloween.

God, he really has been dropping big hints, huh? So you should make a bold move too, right?

By the seven, please don't let this backfire.

"I'd love to, but only if you let me take you out to dinner afterward." You smile, the slightest of nervous flushes on your face, and his eyes widen, startled, but so does his smirk.

"How bold. And here I was worried that even after today you wouldn't get the hint. It's a date, sweet potato." He skates closer to you.

"I'm not that dense you know, just... In a state of shock that you'd want to go out with me. You do know you could have anyone right? You're a famous model, actor, and the housewarden of Pomefiore. From what I've seen so far, there isn't a girl or guy alive that wouldn't throw themselves at your feet." You acknowledge and he just laughs.

"Ah, yes, all the guys and girls that would love to be with me just for my looks, fame, and money. No, thank you. I'll stick with one of the only people in the world who sees me. Who appreciates my help, even when others think I'm being a bitch. Who values my advice, and actually listens to it. Who makes me feel like I... for a single second... Don't need to try so hard to be perfect." You stop skating at his words.

So does he.

"Vil... You never have to be perfect with me. I'm not perfect. Neither is anyone I know- I mean, look at my best friends! They're morons! But I still love them! Because they make me laugh. They care about my wellbeing- in their own ways, and they're there for me when I really need them." You list fondly, skating just a bit closer to grab Vil's gloved hand.

"That's all I really need from anyone, and maybe to some people, that's a low bar, but hey, I'm happy. So it must not be that bad of a thing, you know? So if you're up to doing just those three things, then I'll gladly date you, and do the same in return." When you look up at him, he's watching you closely.

Or well, maybe not you.

Your lips.

"I think I'm quite capable of doing all of that. And more, if you'd allow me?" He glances to meet your gaze his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

You smile and nod.

And he kisses you. Slow, soft, and gentle. Warmth fills you, making the cold that your cheap coat couldn't keep out, melt away.

You lean into the kiss, and you have to stop yourself from chasing after it when he pulls away.

"Lots of those. That's also part of the deal- I require lots of those." You sigh wistfully and he laughs.

Bright, and melodic, and real.

You move to skate an inch back just to see it better and-

"Ack-!"

Your skate catches on something, stalling and sending you falling back.

Your arms frantically reach to grab something and stabilize yourself. At the same time, Vil quickly reaches forward to grab you, which he does, but then his skate trips over the same thing that must have tripped you.

You land in snow.

Ah. You two were at the edge of the pond.

You tripped on solid ground.

And dragged Vil down with you.

Not a great start to the relationship.

It takes a moment of blinking to fully process what just happened but when you do, you find Vil on top of you, a single hair fallen out of his bun.

Without thinking you reach out and tuck it behind his ear so it's less noticeable to someone who isn't this close to him.

His eyes meet yours and you flush, suddenly bashful and worried all at once.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?" You ask, feeling the snow below you, freezing cold seeping through your coat and clothes.

You use your hands to prop yourself up, ignoring the cold and how it starts to sting.

"I'm alright, are you?" He asks and you nod, looking around, your happy you two are now the only ones at the pond.

Vil may have agreed to date you, but he might quickly retract it if anyone saw that.

You sigh in relief, and then... You can't stop yourself from laughing.

"Care to enlighten me on what's so funny about this? Ugh, I've probably messed up my hair- and my clothes-" He pushes himself up, standing swiftly, brushing the snow off of his coat.

"Because we weren't paying attention at all!" You snort out, still laughing at the whole clumsy situation.

"Exactly! You could have gotten hurt, you are aware of that, correct?" He scolds, leaning down to offer you a hand up, which you gladly take while still giggling.

"Yeah, but we didn't, and this will be a hilarious first date story someday." You struggle to balance only for a second when he pulls you to your feet (he's stronger than you thought, duly noted) but he holds your arms to keep you steady.

"We are not telling anyone that I fell." He says firmly, but you smile up at him and can immediately see that fondness softening his sharp glare.

"Of course not. The beautiful and fair, Vil Schoenheit was my hero, helping me up, checking for injuries, kissing them better-" He scoffs as you giggle out the lie.

"We're not telling anyone that either, sweet potato. Let's just stick with you fell, and I helped you up, yes?" He smirks, and you sigh with a smile still glued to your face.

"As you wish, my fairest." You loop your arms and begin skating out towards the middle of the ice once more.

"How about you show me some of those fancier moves you were doing earlier? The figure skating stuff. I'm no master like you, but I think I can learn a few things." You suggest.

"I wouldn't call myself a master, but I can show you a few things I've learned, so watch closely, sweet potato."

"Oh, trust me, I will."

You two spend the next hour skating, Vil teaching you some more advanced moves, which leads to you falling once or twice more, but you get a few down before evening rolls around with no serious injury.

"I think we should probably head back now, my hands are going to go numb." You sigh, a little disappointed to call it quits, but your hands hurt from how cold they are, and you legs are getting tired too.

"That's probably for the best, to much time out in the cold is terrible for the skin." He sighs, already skating towards you.

"I though you had hydrating face masks for that?" You joke and he rolls his eyes.

"There's only so much a face mask can protect you from and prevent. Are you hungry? We can grab something to eat before we go back, my treat this time, since I was the one who invited you out after all." He suggests and you would like to protest that you should at least pay for your share but- you really don't have the money.

And you're actually starving. You both kind of skipped any kind of lunch, being too distracted with skating and confessions and all that.

Note to self, pack lunches next year.

"Sure, Mostro Lounge would be the best option-" You go to recommend, but Vil quickly interrupts.

"I was thinking of somewhere else. You've been to Mostro Lounge dozens of times, but I'd love to bring you to a restaurant in town that I think you'd like." He asks pulling out his phone and typing something very quickly.

"Oh? Okay. So long as Azul doesn't find out I'm cheating on him with another restaurant, we should be fine." You chuckle and your words draw one from Vil to.

"It's a small place, quaint, quiet, and... Homey. I think you'll enjoy it." Good, so nothing that's 5-star fine dining.

You're really not dressed for that kind of restaurant.

"Alright, but I should stop by and tell Grim I'll be out a little longer, or he might get worried."

"Oh, I think he'll be fine. You can text someone else to check on him if you're really worried, or I can have Rook do it?" He pulls you a bit closer to him as you shiver a bit from a cold wind.

Oh, yeah, Grim will definitely be fine.

"Alright. Lead the way, my fairest." You sigh with a dopey smile, and he glances down at you with a smirk.

"Is that your pet name for me now?" He asks with a raised brow and you nudge him.

"Like you can judge, you literally call me a potato!" You laugh.

"A sweet potato." He correct.

"Still a potato. But it's fine. I quite like it. Would you like me to call you something else?" You ask, tilting your head in his direction and he hums in thought.

"No, I think that will work. As well as darling, love, sweetheart, beauty, my queen- those all work too." He smiles proudly, and you giggle.

"Of course, my queen." You give a small, mock bow, and it's his turn to nudge you.

Today has been... Wonderful.

And even if you're alone during winter break, at least you know Vil is only a text or phone call away.

It'll be a good Christmas this year. You just know it.

~~~

Vote for the next character below!

[joelmillergirl]

Illicit Arrangement- Joel Miller

Part 2 of Forbidden From You

Word count: 2,762

Warnings: anal play, threats of anal, bondage, clothed cock riding, cockwarming, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, degradation, praise, hard sex, reader is able to be picked up!

Authors Note: So many people asked for a part 2, so I delivered. Thank you!! Tags: @emisprocrastinating @macaroni676 @sunsfrend

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Whoops." Joel muttered, gesturing to the front door where his younger brother had finally come to the realisation.

A year had passed since Tommy had found out about your secret arrangement with his older brother. He had successfully avoided you for two weeks in what you assumed was anger but had later found out was actually mortification.

You had cornered Tommy in his own house, almost in tears, as you demanded an explanation and begged for approval. After a long, awkward conversation, Tommy agreed that he was in no place to be upset and that he did support you; it was just not in his cards to find out the way he did.

The secret had come out; practically everyone knew now about the relationship you had with Joel, or lack of thereof. You weren’t an official couple, yet you might’ve well have been. Joel refused to label what you had- a decision he made that drove you to insanity. One night, he had come home visibly annoyed, mumbling under his breath about his brother.

“You see, Joel.” Tommy slurred, slapping his hand on his brothers’ back. “I’ve known her for years, she’s like my little sister, like my little chick.”

Joel frowned, leaning away from Tommy to look at him, “Your… Chick?”

“It’s a baby bird,” Tommy clarified before continuing, “I told ya to keep away from her, your broody self compared to her sweet self… didn’t want you breaking her heart. But you’re together now-“

“Uh, we’re not-“ Joel tried to argue.

Tommy held up his hand, silencing an angry looking Joel, “You’re together now, and I have to accept it. Don’t break her heart, Joel.” His tone, previously lighthearted and slurred, now changed into a more serious tone, “I’ll never forgive you if you hurt her.”

Guilt had seemed to become an overwhelming part of your days, always questioning Joel's moves, wondering whether or not he wanted you for sex or something deeper. You confided in Maria about it but felt even guiltier when you questioned whether or not she'd tell Tommy about it as well.

You were sitting outside with Joel, a glass of rich wine in your hand, as the sun started setting, the final colours of the day painted across the darkening sky, a mixture of orange, pink, and light reds. Not many people came out this time of day; everyone in their houses were eating, or debriefing after a day of patrols. A picture-perfect environment for you.

Joel was silent next to you, his breath coming in slowly, his eyes closing for a few seconds longer every time he blinked, pure serenity. "What are we?" You break the silence, asking the question you had yearned to ask for months- a question you knew he'd try his best to avoid.

He sighed deeply, finishing his drink in one go, electing to stay staring at the sky. "Must we label it?" He finally answered, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You lean back, closing your eyes for a moment. "I want there to be a label. I don't know how to... be around you, what to refer to you as."

Joel listened to you, watching as the painted colours slowly started to fade, a dark new colour instead enveloping the sky. "Honey, I just don't understand the label thing." He admitted, "Why can't we just be what we are and leave it at that?"

"I wanna be more." You say, clutching onto the glass a little tighter, "It'll be just like how we are right now, but I'd get to call you my boyfriend. Flaunt you a little, I don't know." You mumble, sighing.

Joel chuckled quietly, "That's what you wanna do? Flaunt me? How entertaining, a young woman flaunting about her old boyfriend. Bet Jackson would be delighted."

You furrow your eyebrows, turning to face him. "Is that why you haven't wanted to be official? Because you're embarrassed you're with someone younger than you?"

The air around you was stale, your question lingered in the silent air for a few seconds. Joel shook his head slowly. "More so embarrassed for you. You don't wanna be stuck with me. Plenty of fellas here younger, more agile."

You stand up suddenly, needing to move only a step until you were right by his side. Your nails brushed against his beard, the usual deep brown now tainted with little grey streaks. "Don't want them. You're only a few years older than me, Joel... I don't want anyone else."

Joel looked up at you, his fingers stretching out from where they lay on his lap, "Just me?"

"Just you." You nod, leaning down to kiss him. Your noses brushed against each other for a second, before you twisted your face, connecting with him as your lips met. One kiss, then two, then three. The soft touches slowly turning into something more desperate.

He stood up, his lips never leaving yours as he wrapped his hands around your ass, lifting you up. "Yep," He chuckled, walking you into the house, "Definitely gettin' old."

He took you up into the bedroom, a place you were familiar with now. You were imprinted in everything, your scent on the pillows, your books on the bedside tables, bits of décor from your house (that you still technically lived in). Joel placed you down onto his bed, standing up straight as you began stripping your clothes, pushing yourself up onto your knees as Joel stood at the foot of the mattress, watching you. Bare and vulnerable, you knelt in front of him, your hands cautiously reaching out to his belt.

He grabbed your hands when you were close enough, shaking his head. With his free hand, he loosened it himself, pulling it out of the loopholes all whilst holding steady eye contact with you. With his belt in one hand and your hands in his other, he stepped a little closer, wrapping the belt around your wrists, effectively tying your hands together.

"Tight?" He asked, looking at you softly.

You shake your head, "Perfect."

"I'm gonna have you, little girl. All for myself, you understand?" He asked, pushing you back so you lay looking up at him. You could only nod, his words sending a spark down to your already aching cunt, a wave of arousal accumulating near your entrance. His shirt was taken off first, haphazardly thrown onto the floor beside him, followed by his jeans and eventually his boxers. His cock was already hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-come.

Your legs automatically spread as he knelt between them, the wide length of him causing your legs to part in a way that had your muscles struggling. He carefully moved your bound hands above your head, pressing down on them to indicate not to move them before his hand moved to gently grasp your thigh, squeezing it before he dragged his cock down the slit of your pussy.

The stretch was something you had gotten used to, every time he filled you up there was still some slight discomfort that lingered for a moment before he started moving. He talked you through it every time, whispering in your ear and massaging your skin as he praised you. Tonight the air was different. Once he was settled deep inside of you, he began fucking you, his hips connecting to your skin roughly, the power behind it shoving you further up the bed.

His hands met your tied ones, using them to keep himself up, his grunts reaching your ears over your loud moans. "Don't know what I was thinkin'." Joel muttered, looking down at where you were connected, his balls now slapping against your ass. "I've ruined you, couldn't take another dick after mine, could ya?"

"No." You moan, your eyes shutting closed as his hand moved from your hip down to your clit, circling it gently. Joel watched you intently, his thrusts not ceasing as he grunted above you. Suddenly he grabbed your legs, pushing them up to your chest, sliding deeper inside you.

He looked down again, suddenly groaning out. "Look at ya takin' me," He whispered, "Think you could take me in here?" His fingers circled your asshole, gently pushing the tip of his thumb inside. "I won't do it, not yet."

His consistent thrusts and the slow drawl in your ear set you off, your orgasm hitting you without warning. Your clenched around his cock, your arms straining above your head as you came, words of approval spilling out of your mouth. Joel slowed his thrusts down, slowly fucking into you now as he grew closer to his own orgasm.

"So good." Joel whispered, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he came, pushing himself into you as far as he could, moving down so he could kiss you. After untying your hands and cleaning you up, you lay side by side. Similar thoughts running through your minds as the still environment around you calmed you down.

The new arrangement between you and Joel was noticeable, you were the main talk of the town. You now held his hand and kissed him in public, and apart from the overdramatic gagging that came from Tommy, no one had a problem with it.

One evening, you were sitting at Jackson's lively bar, waiting for Joel to meet you after his patrol. You were drinking your drink when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

"Mikey." You say, praying that you got his name right.

Mikey nodded, gesturing to the seat next to you, "Good to see you again. Could I sit?"

You slowly nod, watching him as he sat down, "You can until Joel gets here, just waiting for him."

"Yes, I'm kinda here to talk about him... And you," Mikey said, "You guys are dating, right?"

His question didn't surprise you, whilst no one seemed to care you were dating Joel, people still went out of their way to ask, usually a neutral expression on their face. A judgemental expression was instead plastered across the mans' across you, "Yep." You nod.

Mikey hummed, looking away for a moment. "Isn't he a bit old?

You smile, "Only a few years older than you and I. Don't really see the issue."

In a room full of people you really felt alone, you looked around, trying to find a face that was familiar enough to go to. Mikey hummed beside you, tapping his fingers against the wood for a few seconds. "Guess I'm just wondering why you chose him and not me. As in, did I do anything?

Your lips pull into a thin line, "It has nothing to do with you. Tommy set up that date not knowing that... I wasn't interested."

Just as Mikey was about to reply, a warm hand was placed on your shoulder, "Mikey." Joel greeted, squeezing your flesh gently. "Gonna go home, honey?'

"Yes, "You quickly say, taking Joel's hand as you stand up, "Bye, Mikey." With Joel hanging onto you, you quickly walk out the bar, mumbling under your breath as you navigate your way back to his house.

"What did he want?" Joel asked from behind you, pulling on your hand slightly in an attempt to slow down your fast paced strives.

You shake your head, "I didn't want to go on that date in the first place with him. Just wanted to get Tommy off my back."

Within a few minutes you were at his front steps, and you made your way inside, finally letting go of Joel's hand as you shrugged off your coat and boots. Then, you were being steered into the living room, where the embers of last nights fire were still glowing. "Was he botherin' you?" Joel asked, sitting down beside you on the couch.

You look over at him, his jeans straining against his thighs as he leant back against the soft material behind him. "Asked if we were dating," You start, "Asked why I chose you instead of him."

Joel nodded slowly, holding his gaze with yours, "And?" He asked, elaborating when you stayed quiet, "Why did you choose me instead of him?"

You started thinking about him; really thinking about the things that made him, him. Innocent thoughts at first, as simple as the crease in his forehead as he laughed, or the way he fiddled with his fingers when he was anxious. But naturally, you started thinking about the dirtier thoughts. The way his fingers curled inside you, how just one of his fingers were the equivalent to two of yours. How he moaned when you were taking him in your mouth. The thoughts had you tightening your thighs together, something he picked up on quickly.

"C'mere." He muttered, spreading his legs a little wider and angling his pelvis up slightly, patting his lap.

Your cheeks flushed pink, hesitantly kneeling up before you brought one of your legs over his furthest thigh. Impatient at your slow pace, Joel's large hands grabbed your hips and suddenly pulled you so you were sat flush against him, effectively straddling him. The contact alone felt heavenly, the feeling of his growing cock below your cunt. Your hands reach out to grab his broad shoulders, shifting up gently before moving back down on him.

“Yeah? You wanna ride my cock like this?” Joel asked gruffly, leaning up and wrapping his arms around your back. With this new angle, he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your soft skin gently. You moan, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access, all while starting to move your hips against him. 

“Want to feel you inside me.” You sighed, leaning your chest against his. Joel’s hands moved up and down your body, squeezing the flesh of your ass before coming to palm your clothed breasts, his lips leaving small kisses anywhere he could reach in his position. You lifted your hands, tugging your shirt off, soon followed by your bra.

You grinded against him, the rough material of his denim mixed with his hard cock hitting your clit with every thrust. Joel's hands moved to your hips, rocking you harder against him. He groaned into your ear, his hips moving upwards in their own accord. You sat up straight, leaning back onto his knees as he moved you.

Your orgasm was creeping up on you, your legs beginning to shake as you freely moaned, desperate to come. Then you were being pulled up away from him, your orgasm gone as quick as it had started, you groan in frustration, "Joel! What're you doing?"

He sat up and helped you stand up, undoeing your jeans, shoving them down your legs. You moved his hands away, taking off your own underwear as you watched you. "Please." You begged.

Joel looked at you calmly, pushing his jeans down to his ankles and pulling himself out of his boxers, gesturing for you to straddle him again. "Wanna see how long you can sit-" He gripped your hips and pulled you down, dragging his cock through your slick before pushing inside of you, "Still." He finished, allowing you to sit down on him as slow as you needed.

Once you were sitting down, completely filled with him, Joel squeezed your flesh, flexing his hips into you for a moment, "Don't move." He ordered, slapping the side of your thigh gently as he leant back, exhaling deeply. You looked at him unamused, resting your hands on your thighs. Joel smiled beneath you, opening his eyes slightly, "'S okay, baby. Doin' good." He praised you, moving his hands up your thighs, lingering on your hands for a second before moving up, and squeezing your breasts.

Joel slowly started moving, flexing his hips into you, the sensation almost becoming unbearable. Yet, you stayed still, instead choosing to clench around him, a wicked smile on your face. He groaned loudly, thrusting up into you roughly as he opened his eyes fully, shaking his head at you, "Little minx."

"Please." You beg again, despite everything, you continued to be still on top of him. Joel shifted, placing his feet square onto the ground and putting his hands under your ass before he started fucking up into you, setting an unforgiving pace instantly. The change from nothing to this, took you by surprise, and you reached out to grab his shoulders to balance yourself as Joel maneuvered you to meet his thrusts, bouncing you on his cock.

Given the fact that Joel had denied you an orgasm already, you were close to another in a record time, your thighs clenching around his. You were moaning in his ear as you came, your pussy clenching down on him. Joel followed soon after, pushing into you weakly, "Good girl." He groaned, rubbing your back gently. "That why you chose me?"

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Divisa; One

Parings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 3,052

Themes; reality hopping, alternative universe (same universe, just things are a little different), doppelganger, multiple endings, slowburn

Warnings; swearing, maybe an existential crisis or two

Notes; Hey guys! Divisa is finally out!! This won't be following the original story at all. Just bits and pieces here and there. This is going to be different compared to “Twist of Fate”– it's also going to be shorter. I'd say possibly fifteen chapters? There will be five different endings; Four endings will be with each love interest and the fifth will be with all of them. The original MC will not be a white lotus (aka someone who seems sweet, but is actually a bitch) and certain things will be changed. This is based on the universe of LADS, but the whole in-game story doesn't mean anything– unless I mention it specifically! You'll see what I mean.

It’s gonna have a bit of a slow start, but I hope you stick around for it regardless! If there's any smut, it'll be in the endings. So, this is only rated as mature purely for all of the swearing! (ps I'm sorry for naming the reader's father, but I felt it was necessary to do so)

Also! This will have a sporadic upload schedule, so if I finish a chapter, I'll post it soon after. There's no specific day I'll upload this <3 Hope that's okay.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

Divisa

//Latin and Italian for: Divided//

||adj.||

Split into parts; separated

Not united; in disagreement

○o。. .。o○

“Seriously, how much shit does Grandma have up here?” Another box joins the stack of five and you wipe sweat from your forehead with your sleeve.

It was your day off today and while you'd love to spend it relaxing, instead you offered to help your elderly grandma clean out her attic— because “you're her favourite grandchild”, her words…You were her only grandkid.

You had already been there for well over an hour, cleared out five boxes so far, and grandma still wasn't home yet. She was at the farmer's market before you even arrived, so she should've been back by now, but you know your grandma is a chatterbox. She'd yap her whole life away if she could.

You take your jacket off and tie it around your waist, slinging your mini-backpack on once more– it's a habit to always have it on you. You never know when you might need something. Like your chapstick, hand sanitizer, a pen…It's almost a mystery how the bag isn't heavy as hell with how much junk is in it–

You head back up the stairs and glance around at the almost empty attic. You wondered what exactly grandma was going to do with the place after it was clean– maybe she'd turn it into a room for you? You shake your head at the thought and go back to moving boxes.

With a heavy box in hand, you head back toward the stairs. The box slips just slightly within your clammy hands and you bring your knee up to help keep a hold of it. This, however, causes you to fall. Your shoulder slams into the sharp corner of an even heavier box and something on top of the box makes a loud noise as it hits the hardwood floor.

You suck in a deep breath to disguise the pain in your shoulder and quickly roll over to check on the fallen object, internally hoping it wasn't something really valuable. But once you spot it, you're confused.

It was…a jewelry box?

Your grandma wasn't one to wear jewelry, so this was out of the ordinary. The wooden box also seems pretty…old.

You pick up the weathered box and lift the lid to make sure the hinge still works. That's whenever you notice something wrapped in a cloth.

You set the box to the side and pick up the cloth. It was hefty, so there must be some kind of jewelry wrapped up in it. Maybe a necklace?

You unwrap it and before you can look at the necklace, a signature at the corner of the cloth catches your eye.

It was your grandpa's name.

You have never personally met the man, but your grandma loved to tell stories about him. The stories were a little…odd, but you would blame that on her being old and the possible beginnings of dementia. She would tell tales of another time period entirely, how grandpa was a prince and she was wrongly deemed as a saint, how she had to run away with your mother and grandpa couldn't come back here with them…

While it was a beautiful story, you often wondered if it was just a coping mechanism and something bad had happened to your grandpa, but you didn't dare ask your mother.

It seems as if the men in your family were never present, so maybe…there's a curse that only affects the men? Seeing as your father wasn't present either, but your mom had so many pictures of him. You even kept a picture of the two of them in your wallet.

Those thoughts aside, it seems like grandpa was an actual person, at least…even though this cloth– handkerchief, you realize– appeared to be just as old as the box itself, but that can't be possible.

You shake your head and set the handkerchief back into the jewelry box, turning your attention to the necklace.

It was honestly a rather beautiful gemstone necklace. It almost seemed familiar somehow, like you've seen it in a Marvel movie or something. It was a deep red-wine coloured stone with silver wire coiled around it like a vine. It hung from a thin, silver chain.

It was pretty and you did love collecting shiny things, so maybe you could ask your grandma if you could keep it. You pocket the necklace for now and, as you go to stand back up, you spot a piece of folded up paper on the floor. You grab the paper between two fingers and open it up. The tiny scrap of paper only has four words written on it.

The Reality Stone || Aether

Aether?

That word seems…oddly familiar to you. Why– oh, right!

Your phone buzzes with a notification.

‘Rafayel is waiting for you’

A scoff slips from your lips and you shake your head. You did need to check up on your game today and do your dailies…and you did make a huge dent in the attic, so you're sure your grandma would allow you to rest for the remainder of the day. Then, tomorrow, she could help you with the rest!

With your decision made, you put your phone away and descend down the stairs. But then, your pocket feels oddly warm. Intensely so– It's like it was burning a hole through your jeans and you pause mid-step to grab the necklace from your pocket, but you miss a step with your heel and you feel your body fall forward.

Panic spreads throughout your chest, because you know this won't be a pain-free tumble. You'd be lucky to escape with just a sprained ankle or wrist. Your eyes squeeze shut on impulse and instead of your body slamming into hardwood, you felt a face full of…grass?

“What the fuc—”

As you sit up in a panic, your body freezes.

…how the hell did you end up outside?

You scan your surroundings, but you don't recognize where you are.

You're surrounded by jasmines. Beautiful, fragrant flowers as far as the eye can see. A couple of scattered cherry blossom trees, but you were not in a forest. You were just on the outskirts of a city.

With a sigh, you take the reason for your troubles out of your pocket. The necklace. You give the red gem the dirtiest look you can muster before reluctantly clipping it around your neck. If this is what sent you here, you might as well keep it safe, until you figure out how to get back home. Then, you grab your phone.

Maybe…it just sent you to the next city over and your grandma could come pick you up.

You take a deep breath and unlock your phone, but your thumb freezes before you can tap anything.

“The date…What in the..” You can't even finish your sentence. You were so confused and panic was beginning to sink in. “It's 2048?! This…must be a joke, right?”

You rake your fingers through your hair and rise to your feet. “It's fine. Let's try calling grandma,” you murmur to yourself. You try to keep your breathing calm, but you can already feel yourself beginning to panic as you hold the phone up to your ear.

It rings…and rings…and rings…

“This number is no longer in service—”

“Whatever. Seriously, whatever. This is fine. Great, even. Everything is a-ohhhkay. Perfectly normal.” You pocket your phone and rest your head in your hand for a moment, then you take a deep breath and nod your head.

“Alright, I should head to the city first. No use freaking out. It's not like that'll get me home any faster.” You clench your hand into a fist and desperately hope you'll at least be able to reach the city before nightfall…

…The good news is, the city wasn't far at all. Well, it was far, but not three-hours-away type of far! So, you made it well before dark. According to your phone, it was only 5pm so you still had time to find a place for the night. Hopefully whatever place you decide to stay will take your cash…but who knows maybe 2024 money is outdated in 2048.

“I'm sorry, we don't take this form of payment anymore.”

This was the third hotel you've checked tonight…You take a seat on a bench near a large water fountain and hold your head in your hands. Even if it's twenty-four years in the future, they should still take your cash! This is insane–

As you tilt your head back to wallow in your sadness, you notice a billboard in the distance and you can feel the blood drain from your face.

“No, no, no—”

You whip out your phone, making sure you have all your apps before you click on one specific one. You quickly tap the screen, murmuring, “Come on…come on..” And once the game finally loads in, you navigate to the guidance tab.

“The Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034…fourteen years ago. Fourteen plus 2034,” you nervously mutter as you chew on your thumbnail. “That's 2048…that billboard clearly said Linkon City.” You hold your hand over your mouth as dread fills your stomach.

You weren't in the real world…of course that's why your cash wouldn't work. Were you in a coma? Did the fall hurt your head?

No…if that were the case, you wouldn't have taken your bag with you, you wouldn't feel so panicky and cold right now…or could you? You could be self aware and in a coma. But you didn't want to be, so you decided to brush the most realistic thought aside.

“They recognized this money, so maybe…” In the real world, old money could sell for a lot. Especially when it comes to collectors. So maybe you could find someone who would buy all of your old cash. That would definitely work for now, but what about in the future? You'd need money for however long you're going to be here…ugh, does that mean you need to find a job?

Wait…

Wanderers and evols.

There were creatures here.

The thought sends shivers down your spine and you shrug your bag off to put your jacket back on.

As long as you didn't go into a rift you should be fine, right? You're almost positive wanderers never came out to terrorize people—

Your thoughts are cut off by a loud scream and your head jerks in the direction of it with wide eyes.

There was a big ass blue portal in the middle of the street and fucking creatures were coming out of it!?

What the hell was your luck today??

You sling your bag back on, getting ready to run before a bright light blinds you and you shield your eyes. Squinting them to try and see where the light was coming from.

Once the light faded, your heart stuttered in your chest.

A tall man stood in the center of the road as the blue rift dissipates. His wispy, ash-blonde hair blowing in the wind as he turns his head to the side to talk to his companion next to him. From where you are, you can just barely make out his blue eyes.

Xavier?

Then…who was next to him—

Y…You?

You slowly pull up your hood as you stare at the uncanny sight.

While she clearly didn't share the same hair or body type as you, everything else was…identical. Her eyes, her face…It was like looking in a mirror.

You were the main character, but you were not, at the same time.

“Y/n, are you sure you're not overexerting yourself?” You could barely hear his voice over the wind, but your breath catches in your throat at your name coming from Xavier’s lips.

“I'm fine, I promise.” You– She replies with a small, almost pained, smile.

“This is some bullshit,” you murmur under your breath, tapping your finger against your leg as you think about the unfairness of the situation.

Seriously!? You were brought here and you– gosh, you really need to come up with a name for her before this gets confusing. Gemini? Sure, that works.

You were brought here and Gemini was already here?? It's so unfair to have two yous in the same timeline, especially when one already had a head start!

The male leads would definitely sacrifice you for her. They'd probably even tear out your heart, thinking it would fix hers.

You tug at your hair with a small groan of annoyance.

Fuck. Fuck–

Deep breaths...

“Alright. I guess I'm staying up tonight.” You finally compose yourself and set your sight on a neon sign just across the road. “The Nest seems like a good place to start. I could sell this old cash and hopefully get enough for a room tonight.” You pull out a black face mask from your bag and put it on so only your eyes are uncovered.

You'd have to be careful since you and Gemini were identical. You really didn't want to get kidnapped instead of her. Being the main character of an otome game is tough work and, honestly, she can have it. You didn't want to get involved.

It's not like the male leads would ever spare a second glance at you, so you'd surely be fine…Right?

☆ミ

The bell overheard chimes as you step inside the dimly lit bar. The smell of cheap liquor and smoke hitting your nose through the mask and you hold back the urge to cough.

Act cool…

You take a seat at the bar, drumming your fingers against the marbled counter as an employee makes his way over to you.

Without saying a word, you slide a 2017 quarter toward him and he raises a brow before placing an embossed business card down in front of you.

Okay, so if you remember correctly, whatever you write on here will disappear and then, the bartender will take the card and leave. If you have someone who is interested, he'll be back with a drink for you.

You grab a pen from the table and quickly scribble down on the paper.

‘Anyone interested in old money’

Honestly, you should probably be a bit careful, but you had no other way to gain information besides taking a few risks.

The ink disappears and the bartender takes the card, nodding at you before making his way to the back.

You just hope the glass wasn't black, though you doubt it. If the glass was black, it would mean you'd need to pay a high price for information– Perhaps your life. However, since you were only looking for a potential buyer, the chances of the glass being black were slim to none.

The employee comes back with a dark green shot glass and sets it down.

You look up at him with a raised brow and the employee decides to take pity on you, tapping the counter next to the glass. “Green means someone is interested and they're willing to pay a lot.” Then, he jerks his head in the direction of the stairs– the same stairs you recall Rafayel walking up before the main character got caught in one of the more recent chapters.

“After you drink this, head upstairs and it's the first door on your right.”

You nod your head and turn your body as you pull down your mask. You can't afford to let anyone see your face. You quickly down the shot and pull your mask back up, the liquid burning as it goes down your throat.

As an extra payment, you give the bartender a 2008 penny– borrowing change from your grandma was good in times like this. You had so many old coins, though your cash was closer to 2024. Either way, you still be able to make some money since they'd be over twenty-four years old.

Then, you leave the bar and head up the stairs. Your hand lightly hovering above the railing until you reach the top, then you head into the room on the right.

It appeared to be a VIP room.

An angled couch lined one half of the wall with a short table in the center. A few unopened drinks and a suitcase sat atop the table and in the corners of the room, near another door were two men. Bodyguards, maybe?

You take your seat, putting your mini-bookbag on your lap so you could be ready to show off your cash– glad that your mask covered half of your face because you were starting to feel a little nervous.

After a few minutes of waiting, your nervousness turns to annoyance.

You roll your sleeves up and pull your hood down as if to show the bodyguard that you're safe and they can let their guy in now. Then, you lean back on the couch and cross your arms over your chest.

Seriously, how long would this dick keep you waiting—

The door across the room swings open and someone…familiar steps inside.

Well, that's just peachy, isn't it?

You try not to let your surprise show and sit up straight as the white haired man takes a seat in front of you and makes himself comfortable.

“You seem a little too young to be in possession of old money. Did you steal it perhaps?” As Sylus speaks with one hand, you can feel nervousness sinking in once more. You clear your throat and pull out your wallet, tossing it toward him.

“See for yourself.” You jerk your chin, hands resting on your knees. “I've even got old coins.” You take out your coin purse. “My family used to collect them, but since I've got nowhere to go…I might as well sell them now.” You shrug, doing your best to concoct a story on the spot.

“Hmm…” Sylus pulls the bills out of your wallet, holding them under a light, before he nods. Though his eyes do falter on something in your wallet.

You know it’s not your ID or anything, since you made sure to take that out beforehand, but maybe the picture of your mom and dad?

As if to prove you right, Sylus takes the picture out, holding it between two fingers as he flips it over to inspect the back.

“What's a Deepspace Hunter's daughter doing at the Nest?” His eyes flick toward you and he raises an eyebrow.

A…

Huh?

I hope y'all liked this chapter! It's going a bit slow, but it should be fine! I'm honestly not sure where to go from here, I'm just making it up on the spot. I have a loose plot from beginning to end, but I don't really have anything in the middle. So...

It'll be fine!

I'm sure y'all didn't expect your father to be from this universe! (I'll apologize again for giving him a name lmao) I'm also gonna say sorry beforehand if Sylus or anyone else seems a bit out of character— I'm doing my best.

Taglist; @ladyparamount , @the-love-of-my-life96 , @rui-drawsbox , @deputy-videogamer

[ididntknowwhattocallthis]

Ok I wanna talk about Ethari's clothing/design over all. His clothes and tattoos are different from every other Moonshadow elf we've seen, and he's one of the few that doesn't wear braids. Like:

The recurring elements are intricate patterning; over layers and under layers; multiple colors in the same garment (or at least same outfit); wraparound construction, color contrast between mediums, lights, and darks; and the dominant color is always the medium, never the lightest or darkest color (usually navy, true black is very rare outside of the assassins). Even arc 2 Rayla follows most of these rules and she's been away from her culture for two years!

But then we have Ethari:

He doesn't have an outer layer, he wears almost solid navy, none of those clothes are wraparound, he has no light color, there's not a lot of contrast, and his dark color is true black despite not being an assassin. He bends all the rules, though he only breaks one completely. He still has that patterning, but it's minimal compared to the others. He has plenty of accent colors, more than anyone else actually, but they show up on him far less. He does have light, medium, and dark colors, but his whole pallet is darker than everyone else's. The only rule he 100% breaks is the wraparound construction

A lot of this probably derives from the fact that he's a metalsmith:

For the most part his clothes quite are practical;

Black/navy hides coal dust/soot very well. It gets everywhere, on your pants and face especially, and is highly visible on just about every other color.

Forging is hot work & you do it next to a fire that needs to be at least 1000° celsius, I never wear more than one layer either.

those sleeves, while a bit looser than I'd be comfortable with, probably aren't going to get in the way. Plus I heard somewhere that they're spelled to repel heat (couldn't find if that's actually canon tho), so if that's true they're much better than my gloves.

The crop top isn't great but he's got that belt to stop most embers. Besides he's probably not the type to yelp every time one lands on him like I am.

if he pulls the scarf over his mouth & nose it'll help delay him getting lung cancer in the death trap of a smithy Wonderstorm designed for him (my problems with it are a post all on their own. I have nothing against the artists, its pretty, but by all rights he should be dead)

There might also be a cultural aspect to his clothing:

I think the navy blue, the arm bands, the boot decorations, and his belt & tabard could all be symbols that mean "I am a metalsmith" in Moonshadow culture. (Quick side note, he's not technically a blacksmith. historically blacksmith means specifically iron workers. If anything he's a whitesmith since he usually works with silver.) We see it with the assassins, why not metalsmiths too?

Plus if you take a look at his forge in the art book, there's a design carved on it that looks almost exactly like the one on his tabard. Elements of it also appear on other parts of his clothing:

I suspect that this is some sort of symbol for metal working or fire protection. If he's in a guild it could be their symbol, or it could just be a wider cultural symbol. Either way it has a meaning that relates to the forge specifically. I couldn't find it anywhere else in the room.

I just realized that I never even brought up the metal hems on his sleeves. Then again what is there to say? It's metal, he's a metalsmith. It's pretty, he likes pretty things.

But what about the rule he completely breaks?

As I said, every moonshadow garment has some sort of wrap-and-secure construction to it-- except Ethari's clothes. I seriously doubt this is a metalsmith thing. Basic garment construction isn't a sensible way to differentiate your group within one culture. I fully believe Ethari is doing this on purpose. But why? That why gets even bigger when you realize that no other moonshadow elves we've met have brown eyes or periwinkle blue tattoos.

Put a pin in all that, I need to explain my interpretation of Moonshadow culture for this to make sense.

"Moon Primal creatures can be private and secretive, and are keenly aware of the power of appearances." - from the official website

"Moonshadow Elves obey a rather rigid, honor-driven culture." - from the wiki

To me this paints a picture of a fairly collectivist culture. They place a heavy emphasis on community and duty, two things that are usually more peaceful/simpler when you have cohesion within the group. Cohesion creates less conflict, less conflict makes your community more peaceful and your duty to it easier to complete.

But they know that this cohesion is- to an extent- only an act, so each person has a sub community where they don't have to act. Your inner self is for family and friends close enough to be family. (I honestly think they might have some sort of ritual to formally adopt friends as family) To everyone else you're supposed to put up a front that makes you seem more like everyone else.

OK back to the pin

Even without his clothes, Ethari is already visually different from everyone else. No other Moonshadow elves we've seen have tattoos or eyes the same color as his. It's a subtle difference but it is noticeable, and in a culture so focused on appearances people would notice. Most people's instinct would be to try to hide or downplay it, to prop up that front as much as they can. Yet Ethari doesn't put up a front, not to the extent that most people seem to. He's even accentuating his differences by dressing in a different style than them- and he's respected.

In my comm class the other day we were talking about groups, and one of the things that came up was that cohesion fosters sameness and diversity fosters innovation. Ethari is an innovator, it's literally his job. He invents the wingalings in bloodmoon huntress, Runaan and Rayla's weapons, and probably a bunch more stuff we haven't seen. Maybe for all they value appearances and fitting in, moonshadow culture still recognizes that people like him are important and they aren't as effective when they have to fit in. They can't be too out there (remember, Ethari only bends the rules rather than breaking them) but as long as they stay within a certain radius of the norm they can gain a lot of respect. I think this is what Ethari has done. The fact that his family (Runaan, Tiadrin, Lain) are all pretty traditional probably helped a lot. They keep him from pushing too hard on the edge of the box and he keeps them flexible.

That they aren't there anymore has probably exacerbated the rift between him and the rest of the silvegrove caused by Rayla's ghosting and whatever news has reached them from the storm spire.

I am so excited to see him in S6. I thought about adding some speculation about what his new design might look like, but I honestly don't think he'll have changed that drastically aside from his hair. My biggest question is honestly whether or not he's still in The Silvergrove.

Bonus:

I bet that some of Ethari's relative weirdness rubbed off on Rayla. She didn't have many friends as a kid so, when she wasn't in school or with the assassins, it makes sense that hung out with Ethari a lot. Since he's less strict than Runaan she was probably only comfortable completely unmasking with him. He heard about all her crushes, fears, and insecurities that Runaan didn't. Which goes a long way to explaining why Ethari was the only one who could see she wouldn't be a good assassin; she was hiding those traits from everyone but him.

This also explains some of why he was so willing to believe that she ran away. Ethari saw all of her vulnerability, but he didn't see all of her strength. While she was out training and facing her fears with Runaan, Ethari was in the smithy and only heard about their exploits after the fact. Neither of them saw all of who Rayla is, but both of them thought they did and had to find out that they were wrong in just about the most heartbreaking way imaginable.

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- two.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, arguments, drinking, smoking weed, a soft noah moment, self-depreciating thoughts, cheating, abuse

w.c- 3,536

a.n- chapter 2 is out!! i'm slowly getting more ideas for this story and learning how to make it last longer and stuff like that. feedback is welcome of course! enjoy :)

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment.

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

"what the hell happened?" a voice spoke, snatching away my attention. i looked up from my spot on the ground, being met with a worried and confused noah.

"this idiot-" the stage tech began, but noah cut him off. "first of all, lower your volume. and don't call her an idiot. [y/n], what happened?"

i bit my lip, nervous for his reaction. "i was walking to my place at the stage in ran into them. he spilled his coffee all over me, now my camera is fried and the lens is broken. which means no pictures tonight."

noah seemed to tense at my words. no pictures? he never just had no pictures. he sighed, running a hand over his face.

"you don't have a spare?"

i rolled my eyes. "not everyone is a millionaire like you, noah."

"drop the attitude." he said, and i tried to ignore the way arousal shot through my body with his stern tone.

"right, well, no pictures for you tonight."

"what, you can't take them on your phone or something?"

i looked at him like he was insane. "you can't be serious. the camera quality of a phone does not even begin to compare to that of an actual camera. i can't just waltz out there with my phone in my hand-"

"yeah, yeah, i get it. stop your rambling." he interrupted. "i guess we just won't have pictures tonight. you can sit in the green room until the show starts, just don't get in the way."

i furrowed my brows. "you're not upset?"

"of course i'm upset, but i've got other shit to worry about right now. you're not at the top of my priority list. we'll talk about it later."

i nodded, and without another word i walked out to the green room with some ruined clothes and a broken camera.

"woah, what happened to you?" nicholas asked as i walked in. "don't wanna talk about it." i said, throwing the camera on the couch and grabbing a drink from the fridge. white claw, of course. it seemed that's all noah ever drank.

"dude, you need some new clothes." he said.

"they're all back at the hotel." i countered.

"i'll get you some from the merch stand."

i turned around to look at him. "nick, it's really not that big of a deal."

he raised an eyebrow. "it's the middle of december, [y/n]. i'm not gonna let you freeze to death with coffee all over your clothes. stay here, i'll be right back."

i sighed, sitting down and placing my head in my hands. how could so much go so wrong in such a short span of time? it seemed impossible. and so incredibly frustrating.

nick came back with a change of clothes for me. a hoodie and some sweatpants. the rest of the show went by well. a lot better than usual, for some reason. but who was i to ask? just the photographer. just the photographer who fucked up the one thing-

"earth to [y/n]." folio said, waving his hand in front of my face.

"hmm?" i looked at him.

"i said we're heading to a bar soon. you gonna join us?" he asked. "oh, i dunno. i'm pretty tired, i might just head back to the tour bus."

"come onnnn! it'll be fun!" he said, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "please?"

i sighed, running a hand over my face. "fine, whatever. but you're buying my drinks. i think i lost my wallet."

we soon arrived at the bar, heading straight for the vip section. i sat down in a booth far away from the others, staring at the wall and sipping on my drink until someone sat down in front of me.

"what's on your mind?" noah asked, crossing his arms over his chest, and i tried my best not to stare at them for too long before looking back up at his face. "nothing." i lied.

"you suck at lying. talk to me." he said.

"why would i talk to you about my problems?" i asked, a little more attitude in my voice than what i meant to let out.

noah furrowed his brows. "i'm just trying to help you. put some effort in. come see me when you got your head out of your ass." he said, and then walked off.

i groaned, laying my head on the table. today has got to be the worst day ever.

i drank a little more than what i meant to, stumbling and laughing as we walked back to the tour bus, nicholas having to hold my arms so i didn't fall flat on my face.

"damn, princess. you're shit faced." noah laughed.

"fuck you." i spat.

"still being a brat, i see." he said, and i rolled my eyes. "don't have to point out the obvious."

"c'mon, lets sit down before you fall." nicholas said, and i reluctantly sat down with a huff.

"so, what were you thinking about earlier?" noah asked. "you first." i replied, he furrowed his brows.

"earlier today. you declined a smoke. you never do that."

he made an 'o' shape with his mouth, trying to decide if he wanted to tell the truth or not.

"don't lie to me." i said, noticing his hesitance.

"i've just got some personal problems going on. nothing big."

i snorted. "what, your girlfriend break up with you or something? wouldn't be surprised." noah clenched his jaw. "i said it's nothing."

"oh, shit. she did!" i laughed. "damn, how's it feel to be humbled?"

noah groaned, throwing his head back. "can you drop it? i don't want to talk about it."

"nah, i'd rather make fun of you instead. give you a taste of your own medicine."

noah was starting to become increasingly frustrated, his fists clenching at his sides. that should've been my first sign to stop, but i was relentless.

"[y/n], give the guy a break." nicholas said.

"no, he needs to know how it feels to be nitpicked at and made fun of over every small thing." i said.

"can you not be a bitch for five minutes? i dunno, show some empathy and compassion for others for once?" noah snapped.

"i dunno how you expect me to be nice to you when all you've ever shown me from day one is disrespect and anger!" i said.

noah laughed bitterly. "are you fucking blind? i try to be nice to you all the time. i try to show you that i'm trying to change and all you do is push me away!"

"and you expect me to believe that you're 'trying to change'? really? i'm not stupid, noah." i slurred.

"obviously you are. drinking that much. you ruined the fucking show tonight, you know that? you screw up everything all the time. no pictures, no media announcements, nothing. it's a wonder i haven't fired you." he spat.

he was a little drunk too, not completely understanding of the words that he just spoke to me. the words that nearly brought me to tears. but i wouldn't allow him to see them.

"good thing you don't have to. i quit." i said, storming out of the bus.

"[y/n], wait-" nick began.

"save it." i spat, drunkenly walking off down the sidewalk to only god knows where.

i ended up taking an uber back to the hotel, hastily packing my things while the others tried to talk me out of it. all of them except for noah. he was probably in his room or something, hooking up with some girl from the bar. why did i care?

"come on, just think about it. you're both drunk. it'll blow over by morning. please don't leave, [y/n], bad omens isn't bad omens without their photographer." jolly said.

i rolled my eyes, zipping up my suitcase. "i've dealt with this shit for ten years, jolly. tonight was the final straw. i'm fucking done. i quit. find a new damn photographer."

and with that, i stormed out.

weeks after the incident, my phone was blowing up non stop with messages from all four members. i was back home in LA, searching for other jobs.

i saw on instagram that they had replaced me with some 'temporary' guy named bryan, which i'm sure he would end up taking my place entirely. he did his job, and better than i did. his editing skills were immaculate, and the angles he could get were insane.

i would never be like him.

photography never was for me, anyways. i wasn't creative enough. every time i couldn't get a shot or edit a photo correctly, i would break down. i needed to perfect, and i was never even close to achieving that goal. nicholas always assured me that practice made perfect, but couldn't nearly 10 years of practicing be enough?

i shut off my laptop, giving up on my job search for the day, and checked my phone. more messages from the group. great. one message had caught my eye, though. from noah.

'[y/n], please come back. i didn't mean any of the shit i said, i was shit faced and talking out of my ass. you're incredibly talented, you shouldn't need someone to tell you that. you should be able to see it for yourself. i know you've seen that we got a new photographer, but he doesn't even compare to you and your skills. we need you, princess.'

i rolled my eyes, shutting off my phone and ignoring the message, just like i had with all the others. with a bottle of hennessy next to me, i lit up a joint, taking a few hits as i turned on the tv.

since i left, i'd been drowning myself in weed and alcohol. not really a good mix, but i wasn't in the right mindset to even care at this point. the only thoughts in my mind were self-depreciating ones. the ones telling me that i would never be good enough. that he was right to say all those things to me. i felt tears well up in my eyes again, and then there was a knock at my door.

figuring it was just a package or something, i ignored it. until it came again.

i groaned, putting out the joint and shuffling over to the front door before pulling it open.

"christ, [y/n], you look like shit." noah said, looking at me and grimacing at the faint scent of alcohol and weed.

"oh, gee, thanks." i said, moving to shut the door again, but he blocked it with his foot.

"wait." he said. "i want to talk to you."

for a brief moment, i considered letting him in. i wondered if the others had knocked some sense into him over the past two weeks. yeah, he was going through a lot himself, but that didn't give him any right to treat me like that. i huffed, remaining stubborn on keeping him out.

"i don't want to talk to you. go away." i said. "give me five minutes. if i can't change your mind, i'll leave. forever."

the thought of him leaving made my heart clench. i didn't want him to leave. i needed him to stay. for some reason, my life felt emptier without him. so i sighed, opening the door again and moving to let him in.

why was i feeling this way?

we sat on the couch, and i prayed he didn't say anything about the countless empty alcohol bottles and joint butts.

"first, i want to apologize. i know me being drunk isn't a proper excuse. hell, there's no excuse for the way i treated you, that night and over the years in general. you don't deserve that, [y/n]. and you were right to want to quit. but that doesn't mean you should. you are the most talented photographer i have ever met in my life. you're- you're beautiful, and funny, and its like you can make photos come to life. i know i said a lot of shit, but you have to believe me. i didn't mean it. any of it."

i finally looked at him. "you're such a liar."

he shook his head. "i'm not lying. you don't have to trust me. you can hate me all you want. yell, scream, cry and hit me. whatever makes you feel better."

i really was gonna take him up on that offer, but decided against it. "what do you want?"

"i want you to come back. you're like family, [y/n]. tour isn't the same without you."

i clenched my jaw. "and what, you think a half assed apology is gonna fix it? everything you said, everything you did? you broke me down all these years, noah, and now i have to pick up the pieces myself. fuck you."

"[y/n]-" "get out."

"what?"

i looked at him. "get. out. i don't want you here."

he sat stubbornly. "i'm not leaving. you're not in the right mindset, i know, but you can't just quit. we need you. we miss you."

i crossed my arms. "prove it."

he furrowed his brows. "what? how am i supposed to prove it?"

"prove that you're sorry. that you're willing to change for me to come back. because i won't be coming back to deal with your sour attitude for longer than i have to. i'm tired of it." i said, and he nodded.

"okay. i'll prove it."

noah canceled the next few shows, which i repeatedly told him was not necessary, but he refused. he was going to show me he cared.

he started off by helping me clean my house. at first, he started by himself, but i refused to let him do it himself. plus, there were some things that needed to be done a certain way or else it wasn't right and i'd have to do it all over again.

"jesus christ, how much did you drink? it's been like, two weeks." noah said.

"too much. i've had the world's worst hangover for the past three days." i said, and noah threw me a water bottle and a bottle of painkillers. "take those and sit down. you'll feel better soon."

"but-" "don't argue."

i sighed, taking the painkillers and washing it down with water before going to the couch and sitting down.

noah continued to clean, throwing away the takeout boxes and empty bottles and even going as far as to mop the floors for me.

maybe he really is trying to change.

i shook away the thought. he could be trying to manipulate me or something. make me think he's nicer and then immediately go back to being mean.

even though there was that nagging worry in the back of my mind, i fell asleep in the couch with the thought of maybe he really had changed. maybe there was a chance at actually being happy.

maybe i had a chance with him after all.

i woke up what i can only assume was hours later, only to find noah no longer in my home. no note, not text, nothing. i should've known better.

a thought crossed my mind. my house was already so clean. there was no use in dirtying it up even more. maybe i could try a different outlet.

so i grabbed a paper and pen, scrambling off random words onto the paper. just random things that came to my mind.

I don't want it. And I don't want to want you. But in my dreams I seem to be more honest. And I must admit, you've been in quite a few.

it wasn't a lie. often times, he would show up in my dreams. i couldn't remember what was happening, but i knew he was there.

silly me to fall in love with you.

falling in love with a man who wasn't available. how stupid could i be? it wasn't going to happen, anyways. even though he was single now, he was a prick. he hated me. i can't believe i ever thought i had a chance.

NOAH'S POV.

i knew it was wrong to leave her there like that. but i couldn't stop myself. when i recieved the message i had oh so desperately been waiting for from alyssa, my feet seemed to move on it's own. my thoughts drifted back to conversation i previously had with nick as i drive to her place. the place we used to share.

"she what?!" nick yelled.

"calm down, dude." i said, my eyes red with previously shed tears.

i'd just recieved a picture from a good friend of mine, keaton, of my girlfriend and some random dude kissing in the mall while i was out on tour. part of me felt relieved. i knew it was wrong, but over the past couple years, i'd been growing feelings for another woman. [y/n], to be exact. why did i feel this way?

"god, dude, i wish she was a man so i could beat her ass."

"i know. just.. stay. i don't want to be alone."

i met alyssa when i was on tour at the very beginning of my career. i bumped into her when i was on a coffee run for everybody, and the way she carried herself, her voice, and generally just everything about her had me to my knees immediately. she didn't know who i was. and frankly, it was a relief. i didn't want to date some crazy fan, so i asked for her number.

we hit it off almost instantly. the first date i kissed her. everything was going fine for the first couple months, and then she started disappearing more. leaving the house more and staying out later. she always assured me that she was just going out with friends, but deep down i knew it was something more.

and really, everyone could see it but me. she was borderline abusive. sometimes physically, but i would play it off as jokes and fun. it was obvious it wasn't when she started leaving bruises. mentally and physically. telling me i would never be enough. that i wouldn't be anything without her. when we argued, she would put me down so far that sometimes, it was hard to get back up. but i managed. i always did.

it might sound absurd. a large, 6'3 and well built man being abused by a woman. and though i looked like that on the outside, it was all just a front. i never wanted to hurt anyone. i never wanted to be mean. i just wanted to be held. to be loved. i wanted her to love me. i wanted her acceptance, because that was all that mattered to me.

that soon proved to be a mistake.

i sighed, pulling into the driveway and sitting for a moment. this was wrong. so horribly wrong. but i couldn't find it in me to leave. i needed to know why she did this. why she left me. was i not good enough? what did the other guy have that i didn't?

i walked into the house and she greeted me with tears, shocking me.

"noah, please. i'm so sorry. i-i didn't mean to, please. i need you, you're the only man i love, i swear!"

my heart jumped at her words, though i knew they weren't true. over the years i'd been with alyssa, i knew she was cheating. lying. but i hated change. and i couldn't bring myself to leave. but keaton giving me the cold hard proof was all i needed to make the final choice.

"you cheated, alyssa. you did that. not me. you have no one to blame but yourself."

"so what, you came back to rub it in my face? tell me it's over for good?" she scoffed, the tears almost immediately disappearing and being replaced with a scowl.

"yes." i said simply.

"fine. he's better than you, anyways. richer, hotter, and he's bigger."

"whatever, alyssa." i sighed, grabbing my keys. i knew this was a mistake. "you walk out that door, and don't you ever call me again!" she shouted.

so i did.

i debated on whether or not i should go back to [y/n]'s apartment. after a few missed calls, i decided against it. she must still be sleeping. so i wen't to nick's house to crash. i'd go back to her house tomorrow, but for now, i just needed sleep.

READER'S POV

i found myself laying in bed, staring at the wall. once again, that void was in my chest. the void that could only be filled by him.

he called me numerous times, but i declined them all. he really had the guts to call me after he left? just left. without a single word. why would he do that?

tears flowed freely from my eyes as i remembered all the past experiences with the band. i missed them. i missed my friends. but i couldn't afford to get hurt again. i couldn't go through that again. so once again, i drifted off to sleep with the thoughts that lingered in my mind, despite my efforts to push them away.

halley's comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you.

[lemonlokkich]

Writing prompt: Sky and Wind do crime together

The Mom Friend

Sky and Wind. Mainly Wind lol. Thank you for the prompt ace!

So,

Maybe he shouldn't have stolen that gem. Maybe he should've just kept his sticky hands to himself like Legend had warned him to when they entered Castle Town in the first place.

He should've listened to Twilight's warnings about how jumpy and panicky his towns folk were. How vigilant they were after the events of his adventure.

But the beautiful sky blue Sapphire was embedded in cheap metal that looked near to rusting. The thing's beauty was obviously neglected just to make a quick rupee and he had the perfect use in mind.

500 would've been fair if it was actual jewelry instead of an arts and crafts project gone wrong.

So Wind did what any reliable pirate would do, he calmly walked along the side of the booth, pressing as close to the crowd as he could get before deftly swiping the neglected object off the table in one smooth and most definitely practiced motion.

He almost dropped it as someone screeched in his ear, loud and panicked and angry.

“Thief! Thief!” A random woman standing behind him yelled, pointing straight at him and looking close to a near faint from the shock “Guards!”

Shit.

Fucking hell.

Farore strike him down.

A commotion of clanking armour erupted a few paces further from him in the crowd, the telltale sounds of a guard shouting in response to the mass of now panicking civilians who have devolved into clucking like frightened cuccos.

Wind didn't need to be told to run, he just went. He squeezed himself through the crowd, slipping the sapphire-junk amalgamation into his magic pouch where it'll -hopefully- remain safe.

Bodies pressed close as he ducked and weaved and sidestepped, the guard hot on his heels. He should've lost the guy way back in the crowd, but Twilight's era seemed to have a love for darker, duskier colours and had a clingy sort of shade to everything compared to Wind’s sunnier clothes and general vibe.

That made him easy to keep track of, even as he reached an entirely different section of the marketplace where the panic gave way to the familiar demure shuffling of the crowd.

He was so close, if he could just find an alleyway or shop to hide out in…

Cold metal clamped around his twiggy arm and he couldn't resist a tiny yelp as he was physically lifted into the air by the guard and left dangling like a misbehaving kitten in front of the knight.

This had the effect of both being eye level with the guard and being able to somewhat look over the crowd if he strained his neck a bit.

Only one of those was an issue as he locked eyes with the aforementioned guard and scowled his fiercest scowl.

It seemed to be a man around Times age, clearly strong by the way he lifted Wind up like a bag of straw. Although, his brothers claimed he really was just that scrawney which Wind sincerely resented.

He was a growing boy, okay.

The man scowled back at him, eyes narrowing.

“What do you think you're doing, boy?” The guard growled, low and timbre and reverberated through Wind who was… not intimidated at all.

Twilight told them his guards were kind of pathetic, all things considered. And Warriors definitely could be wayyyy more intimidating than this.

But Warriors also said to never speak when he got arrested until he could get ahold of any of them. Something something lawyers…

Hell if he knows.

He flattened his mouth into a thin line and started trying to wiggle out of the guards grip. The guard, who was positively shook by this very obvious escape attempt, just readjusted his grip a bit.

Which gave him a perfect opportunity to sweep his gaze across the crowd and have his eyes land squarely on the comforting sight of Sky.

Now, Wind could do a myriad of things in this situation. He could call out his brother's name, he could shout something unintelligible, he could just scream like the seagulls had taught him to back home.

Despite popular belief, those were not liable to work in any way shape or form. Because this is Sky.

But Wind has an idea… to exploit the hero's spirit.

Afterall no hero can resist the call of a child in danger… separated from their family perhaps.

Wind took a deep breath, and in the most boyish, shrieky shout he could manage he screamed.

“Moooooom!”

Several heads in the crowd swiveled around, mainly women and a few elderly folks.

But most importantly, Sky's head shot up and locked eyes with Wind and his totally hidden smug expression. He could spot a range of expressions flitting over the older man's face, glancing around before diving into the crowd and making his way towards them.

Wind could feel the guard stiffen, fingers tightening patiently as a collage of images of a thousand angry mothers flashed before the poor guy's eyes. Clearly experienced in the wrath of entitled mother's with their ‘little angels’.

It wasn't long before Sky burst into the little pocket in the middle of the crowd where Wind dangled.

Wind, who's smile sharpened in absolute delight before calling out in a very convincingly teary voice, “Mom! This mean guard grabbed me! He thinks I stole something…”

Sky's expression twitched between perplexed and incredibly amused before settling on a fake grave expression which made Wind's heart soar. He may get off scott free yet.

Sky put his hands on his hips, squinting upwards at the guard and teen duo.

“Well, did you?” He raised one eyebrow convincingly, voice pitched in a pretty convincingly feminine impression.

Who knew Sky was a man of such absolute skill? Wind did, Wind never doubted the Skyloftian for a second. Anyone who did is obviously a hater, looking at you young-Groose.

Wind let his eyes water a bit to make it even more convincing, flailing as a response and wiggling in the guards grip. The guard, who was way too haunted to recognize that Sky was a full grown man.

“No! Of Course I didn't! I was just looking I promise, you know I'd never, Mom! You would kill me!” Wind would like to credit his amazing acting skills towards Tetra, who had pulled the same stunt in front of his very eyes once.

Good job Tetra, go girl.

Sky gazed up at Wind for a longggg long moment, long enough that sweat was starting to bead at the boys brow in fear of Sky maybe backing off.

Sky definitely knew he stole something.

And then Sky glared.

The air went suffocatingly still for a moment, the guard shuddered and leaned back and as Sky locked his glare onto the guard the man dropped Wind.

He did not stumble, that was just… intentional. Part of the act.

Yes.

Sky was quick to wrap an arm around him and pull the boy into his side protectively, all like a mother he was pretending to be, still glaring.

“You don't lay another hand on my poor sweet angel again y’hear?” He clucked, wagging a finger at the guard for dramatic effect.

The guard sputtered, “B-but ma'am? I saw him, he stole-”

“He did no such thing! Didn't you hear him? He knows the consequences of stealing and my darling sweet child-” okay, laying it on a little thick there Sky- “would never lie to me, he may be a bit overamaginative, but a liar he is not!”

“I-”

“Don't you dare suggest such preposterous things ever again. My baby boy and I will be taking our leave now! Good day sir.”

“But-”

“I said, good day.��� Sky growled.

The guard just sagged, a hopelessly defeated sigh escaping the poor fellow. “Good day, ma'am.”

With Wind still tucked under his arm, Sky turned and made his way back through the crowd.

“So, what'd you steal?” The Skyloftian asked, promptly dropping the act as soon as they were out of range.

“I'll have you know your sweet baby would never, mom”

----

Thank you for reading! My prompt inbox is always open if you wanna give me smth to write! This was written in like 1 hour and I proof read it only one omw to school so excuse my spelling and stuff. English is my second language.

If you wanna read more fics check out my ao3:

LemonLokkich

[yanderes-galore]

Would it be okay to ask for a scenario of Hiccup with a Darling that's from modern times? Like due to mysterious ways Darling ended up in Berk and freaks out because of the Sargon's and all?

Sure! That would actually be terrifying now that I think about it as a lot of the dragons are really dangerous- I tried to pace this longer as I was inspired by another writer but I'm not sure how long it'll get but I hope you like my attempt :) This was long but I feel I executed it poorly, you be the judge of that.

You have a dragon and I wish I expanded more on that but I had no ideas :( This is a tame yandere focusing on heavy manipulation more than full on violence.

Not proofread, you get this raw.

Viking Life

Yandere! Hiccup with Modern! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Darling is scared and a bit oblivious, Dubious relationship/companionship, Protective behavior, Implied stockholm syndrome.

You felt your skin bruise when you landed, the sleepiness in your eyes shaking out quickly upon landing. This was not your world, it was one of fiction. One of fantasy, with vikings and dragons.

One moment you were sleeping in your bed for a quick nap. The next you were falling onto the cold ground, eyes darting around your surroundings. This... looked a lot like a series you liked.

You look down at your body, your clothes that you were wearing before were still on but dirty. You try to keep focused and look around your surroundings. Only to freeze when predatory eyes locked on you.

A dragon, straight from the series you enjoy, growls down at you. Adrenaline surges through your body as you quickly scurry backwards. The dragon backs you to a stone rock with a growl.

Great, you just got here by some sort of means unknown to you and you were going to die. Your life was going to end and you would have no idea why. You can't fight a literal dragon.

You make yourself look as small as possible, preparing to roll out of the way of a blow if you could. Before you could you felt the heat of a blast hit the dragon. Said dragon screeches before backing off.

You quickly turn to see another dragon and a rider. On closer look... your mouth shoots open. That's... you know them!

Hiccup and Toothless.

The Night Fury and his rider manage to drive the dragon off with some precise plasma bolts. The heat washes over you and you feel the urge to sweat. You hold your breath when the dragon flies off, but Toothless gaze swaps to you.

"I've never seen you before..." The rider, Hiccup, asks you. His gaze sweeps over your clothes in curiosity. It was nothing compared to his leather armor. "What kind of place wears something like that?"

You can only look at him with the expression of a fearful animal. You can barely breathe with the Night Fury staring you down. This... was reality.

"You don't look like you know how to tame a dragon, either... it's not safe here." Hiccup tells you, getting off of Toothless. "Can I get your name?"

You give the viking your name and he says it back to you. You can tell the name feels foreign to him when he says it but he makes not comment. He looks you over again before introducing himself. The name is familiar to you, of course, as in your world this is all fiction.

"Let's talk more somewhere safer. Last thing we need is a wild dragon attacking you again." He asks for your hand and you hesitantly take it.

Safe to say the first dragon ride on Toothless isn't easy on you.

----

When you were brought to Dragon's Edge you were quickly met with the feeling that your new life wouldn't be easy. When Hiccup mentioned to his friends that he brought someone new there was immediate backlash. Your "warm welcome" was more akin to an interrogation, really.

You couldn't blame them. They were all just as scared as you. But that didn't stop you from cowering behind Hiccup whenever their tones got aggressive.

Hiccup became a big help to you. He helped you give information to their questions without feeling overwhelmed. Answering questions was still difficult even without their aggression, however.

You told them all what you could. You told them your name, your world, and how you woke up. You answered when asked but it appears it didn't get much of anywhere.

You were still an enigma.

The questions they asked often involved your clothes, your knowledge on dragons, and/or your heritage. You answered what you could and tried to tiptoe around the idea of their world being fake where you came from.

You knew everyone's names but you acted as if you didn't to not freak them out. One by one, Hiccup introduced you to his friends. It felt bittersweet, on one hand you liked that you could meet your favorite characters... although...

You wonder if you'll ever go home.

It soon becomes clear that you will need somewhere to go. Since you are not aware of your surroundings you have nowhere to go. When Hiccup brings up allowing you to say in Dragon's Edge there is some hesitancy.

Tension is heavy in the air at the idea of allowing someone they have no idea about staying. Although, you thank Hiccup for helping y0ur case as he manages to convince his fellow vikings enough to allow it. He'd keep an eye on you and make sure you don't try anything.

He doubts your dangerous but anything to make them happy.

This begins your life in this world. A small hut is built for you and you're left to get to know your companions. The idea of adapting to this world is stressful, even with help.

Hiccup becomes your guide on the Edge. He helps you speak to others, he helps you with Astrid pick out clothing more akin to this area, and you are taught about training dragons.

Without Hiccup you doubt you could adapt to your situation. You're happy to have someone like him help you, along with his friends even if you are still uneasy about them. They all make your new life easier.

You still wish you could go home, however....

----

Since you began living at Dragon's Edge you've gotten along with your neighbors. You've spoken to many of the dragon riders and helped tend to their dragons. There's even talk of getting your own dragon. You always decline the offer, fearing that means your stay is permanent.

Part of you felt indebted to Hiccup. He saved you... ever since you've been friends. Even when you feel closed off, Hiccup comes in to help you adapt.

You've learned a lot from him, your friend. He's taught you about countless dragons to prevent how you met from happening a again. He taught you how to fish, he taught you basic combat even if it usually resulted in you falling over.

You and Hiccup seemed to have good chemistry. It wasn't necessarily in the romantic sense, but you two got along well. You felt you could rely on him... and Hiccup always seems so eager to help.

He was never aggressive with you. He always asked you gently about anything, like if you recall anything from before your time here. He's always eager to listen about you.

Hiccup encourages you to take a dragon of your own yet you always tell him no. You still have faith you'll get home someday. You never planned to stay too long.

From what you can tell this doesn't affect Hiccup much. Although it's possible you just don't see the cloudy look in his eyes. All you want is to go home... even if it is nice here.

"It's been months since you came here, it would be safer if you had a dragon." Hiccup had pulled you aside in private one day, flying you to a private part of the island. He was always concerned about your safety due to the Dragon Hunters. It was one of the reasons he rarely left your side too long and always asked to help.

"I've said this time and time again, Hiccup. If I got a dragon, I'll get attached. This isn't my home." You sigh, looking off at the water longingly. This world was beautiful yet home was home.

"I know..." He sighs deeply, looking over at you. "What if you never go home, though? What if I'm not around to protect you until then?"

You give Hiccup a saddened look. Hiccup's stressed expressions softens when he sees this but he looks away. You understand... he's being a good guy, that's all!

"Look... I'm just saying getting you home could be years from now. We have no idea how you got here... we know even less about bringing you back!"

Tears collect in your eyes and you nod. He had a point, even if you hated to agree. You had already gotten to be good friends with every body. A dragon would only prove useful.

At the same time... it feels like it would only chain you to this world.

Hiccup picks up on your silence and shaking body. You pause when he pulls you next to him and holds your face. He scans over your tears and wipes them away with care.

"I understand you want to go home..." He acts like it hurts to say it. "Surely you must understand it's dangerous around here, right? I'll train a dragon for you... just for your protection. Please think of the benefits until we learn how to bring you home?"

You don't have much of a choice. You're left speechless at Hiccup's sudden action to pull you closer and your thoughts jumble together. You look at his eyes and huff.

"... If you say it's what's best for me, I trust your judgment, Hiccup. You are my closest friend, after all."

Hiccup smiles and pulls away. Something feels off but you can't figure out what. You just... weren't expecting such an action from him-

"Great. Let's pick one for you soon... thanks for considering."

His smile is contagious....

"Sure... no problem...."

----

Dragon training isn't easy. Despite this... after little over a year of knowing Hiccup you managed to become close with a Silver Phantom. The dragon was large, fast, yet shy with humans.

They were troubling to train, yet you managed because Hiccup urged you to.

Hiccup urged you to do a lot since you met him.... You felt he was going it because he knew how this world worked. Although now that you had a dragon protecting you... he should back off, right?

Apparently that was not the case. Hiccup still visited you just as often. You adored your Silver Phantom, you adored your now growing hut, and you adored your new friends.... Thoughts of home still lingered in the back of your mind but they slowly faded away as time passed.

You couldn't blame yourself...

You were probably never making it back.

Why would you want to go back now? You had Hiccup, your best friend... and you had your dragon! They were all you really needed now.

Your modern clothes were long since discarded. You had gotten used to viking attire now anyways. Anything that reminded you of your past life was tossed aside.

... was there any point in going home?

It's not like Hiccup brought up any development on it. All he did was stick around you and help you out. You... even began to grow attached the longer you stayed here.

Hiccup had told asked you to not bring up your old home anymore. As he kept saying, who knows when you'll get back? For now... isn't here your home?

Think about it... you've accomplished so much here. You became a dragon rider, you gained so many friends, aren't you thriving here? Plus, leaving would hurt by now wouldn't it?

It's exactly as you feared.

You were in this deep. All thanks to Hiccup's words and comforting advice. You'd think he was doing it all on purpose.

He wouldn't though... right? Hiccup is your best friend. He just wants what's best for you. He... makes you feel comfortable.

He's quickly becoming the one thing that makes you happy in this world...

... maybe you don't want to leave anymore.

----

Hiccup couldn't hide the grin on his face. It took time, but with some well placed manipulation he managed to make you stay. Truthfully, Hiccup didn't know if he could bring you back home.

Yet... why go back? Clearly this was your home now. It was already approaching your second year here and you appear to be thriving.

Hiccup had a huge part in it. He made you a confident viking despite your differences. Your Silver Phantom, Jetstream, had also been a big part in making you stay. Now you didn't want to leave.

Part of Hiccup knows he should feel bad for what he did. He took advantage of you and manipulated your mind into relying on him. Now you clung around him all the time.

You two could possibly even start dating if he pushed a bit farther.

That was an opportunity for another time. All Hiccup really cared about was keeping you here with him at Dragon's Edge. When he first met you... he felt there was something about you.

Maybe it was the mystery that brought him in? He wasn't sure... all he knew was you felt nice to be around. Even when you hid behind him... he felt a strong attachment to you.

Now it's been years. It feels like he's known you for longer. Your past may be foggy to him, but now you're an entirely different person! A person he's had a hand in making.

It felt... nice for you to slowly care for him more than your old home. Again, how wrong of him to say, he can't help it.... He's surprised you never questioned him.

Hiccup will admit he's been obsessive about you since he met you. To the point he follows you sometimes and... watches you when you're unaware. Jetstream catches him at times which causes him to leave, however.

Hiccup prefers to keep you blissfully unaware of his obsession. He's already gotten you to the point you like Dragon's Edge as your home. Far as he knows, from now on, the Edge could be your home forever...

Then you could stay with Hiccup, forever.

Hiccup is... happy that your home is long gone from your mind now. It just means you've accepted the truth, as dark as it sounds.

You're meant to be here, don't you see?

You're meant to be here with him, forever as his.

[alectoperdita]

WIP Wednesday

So this draft turned out more porn with feeling that originally planned. Still focused on Jou trying to give his first blowjob, but it seems Seto will read less authoritative during it compared to what was suggested in "The Catwalk Job." And now I am worried about series continuity.

---

Their bodies moved in tandem, joined at the mouth and hips. Soon their hands joined the fray, slipping under clothing to paw at one another. Jounouchi managed to wiggle several fingers under Seto's waistband, curling the digits below his hip bone and digging a hint of nail near the top of Seto's buttock. Seto retaliated with light scratches across Jounouchi's lower back and the nape of his neck. Whenever a low groan rumbled deep in Jounouchi's chest, Seto shivered and squeezed his thighs together.

Jounouchi was hard, pitching an impressive tent in his pants by feel alone. Seto, on the other hand, despite the arousal swimming in his veins, was slower to rise. His half-hard dick was pitifully puny compared to Jounouchi's rock-hard erection.

Jounouchi must've noticed the difference, too. He lifted his head to catch his eye. Even as he held himself still, his nostrils flared. Seto didn't shrink away from his gaze.

"Hey, you sure you're okay? We can stop if you're not in the mood."

Inside Seto's head, he cursed the man for being so understanding. Most of his hookups would've rolled him onto his hands and knees and fucked him with very little regard as to whether he was hard or not. The perks of being mainly regarded as a hole for men to stick their dicks into.

Don't get Seto wrong, though. He didn't mind being used, and he (usually) got plenty out of the experience, too.

"I want," he insisted. His frustration turned inward toward his own libido. He wanted sex. Especially sex with Jounouchi. So why did his body betray him now? "I want you."

Jounouchi continued to watch him. The stare grated on his nerves.

Seto arched off the mattress. "I can suck you first—"

"Actually," Jounouchi cut him off, "I think this'll be a great time for me to return the favor."

"What?" It was Seto's turn to gape.

Flashing a boyish grin, Jounouchi pecked the corner of his mouth. "You heard me. I wanna blow you."

"You don't have to—"

"I wanna."

Seto's heart hammered in his chest. He tried to offer Jounouchi an out, but the man refused. He said he wanted to suck Seto's cock. Twice.

"Have you ever sucked cock?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

Jounouchi dared to look sheepish for a moment. "Well, no. But it's never too late to learn, right?" He laughed, though a nervousness thrummed through it. "And it's not like I've never done other kinds of oral. Eaten plenty of pussy in my time."

Seto pulled a face. He did not like to think about Jounouchi pleasuring other people beside himself. He especially didn't appreciate the reminder of Jounouchi's once fiercely defended heterosexuality. "Stop. You keep talking about cunnilingus, and it'll definitely kill the mood."

"Sorry. Look, I know I probably won't be good at it, but I still wanna give it a go."

Jounouchi could give the world's most mid blowjob, and Seto would probably still get hard. Which probably said worrying things about Seto's state of mind.

"Okay," Seto agreed, still breathless from disbelief.

[generational-atrophy]

What do you HC England as height wise? I’m pretty happy with 5’9 since that’s the perfect height for me at 5’0 😈 otherwise can I request England with a gn short reader?

hetalia england with a short s/o

0.7k words ~ gender neutral scenarios

tw: none!

a/n: arthur is starting to grow on me so much :sob:

I personally see him as something between 5' 9“ and 5' 10”, so just around what you think!

He's actually quite average, but compared to a lot of other nations, it's easy for him to be teased for being short. So, being with a short S/O would be a big confidence boost for him.

He pretends that he doesn't care about his S/O's height, but it'll be obvious to you that he does. Just through the little things.

Nearly every morning, he greets you with a tight hug from behind as he rests his chin on the top of your head. If he's wearing one of his robes, he'll also wrap that around you.

He's also ALWAYS the big spoon. Regardless of what he wants, he just finds it awkward to be held like that when you're so... small compared to him.

Whenever you're out, he offers you his jacket. He just adores how big it looks on you!

Depending on where you live, he can get a little protective. When you're in a crowd, he always makes sure to hold you close. He doesn't trust others to respect your personal space as much as they should.

“Right, you shut up right now or you're gonna learn to regret-”

“Arthur, it's fine!” You plead, grabbing his shoulder and holding him back, “Let's just leave, okay?”

“I- You want to just let this prick get away with-”

“Yes!”

He turns around to meet your eyes for a moment, his gaze softening as he sees your worried expression. Arthur could only sigh, brushing your hand off his shoulder and taking it in his own.

“You're right, this isn't worth our time. Let's go, darling.”

The two of you began to walk towards the exit of the bar. But before you could get out of earshot, you heard your harasser whistle at you. In an instant, Arthur broke away from you, grabbing the nearest glass off a table and hurling it at the man.

He isn't above teasing you for being short, but he won't push it. It's always little snide remarks that probably you didn't even notice in the moment.

A couple of times he's tried to see if you could wear his clothes from a teenager (AKA THE 12TH DAMN CENTURY!)  It didn't work, obviously, but he did laugh a lot at you... so there's that.

But, he'd still never infantilize you. No matter how you look, he loves and respects you all the same. And he expects everyone to do the exact same. You're his darling, after all <3

It wasn't supposed to rain today. At least, that was what the weather app said today. But here you stood, underneath the archway to leave,  watching the rain pound the sidewalk.

“Perhaps... I should not have parked so far away.” Arthur breaks the tension.

“Yeah, perhaps.”

“Did you bring an umbrella?”

“Nope. Did you?“

”Not today, no.“

You sighed, but Arthur just chuckled. When you turned to the side to see his face, he looked just absolutely pleased with himself.

”What's so funny?“

”I have a plan.“ He says resolutely, scrambling out of his trench coat. He poured a few things out of the pockets, then turned to you.

He manoeuvred the jacket so it held out like a tarp over himself, “Get under here with me, it'll be dry.”

You guffawed, “It will not be dry.”

“Trust me, it's better than nothing.”

What other choice did you have? You shuffled underneath his arms, pressing up close to him. It was an uncomfortable arrangement, but safe. Like always, with him.

“Alright, are we running, or what?”

He shook his head, ”In a moment, but first...“

”First what?“

”You have to give me a good luck kiss.“

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you turned away, ”That's stupid, and like- people will see!“

”Come on, I won't keep you dry unless you give me a good luck kiss.“

”Ugh, you can't be serious-“ You stuttered out for a moment,  ”F-Fine!“

Hurriedly, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek as you stood on the tips of your toes.

”See, now we'll be all good!“

”That was so dumb-“

”Doesn't matter, we're going!“ He laughed, before breaking out into a full sprint, dragging you along with him.

”SLOW DOW- I WASN'T READY!“

[biipbop]

I feel like my Jun hc doesn't align with fanon Jun.

Like I compare him a lot to Ruan Nanzhu from KoD but I really do see them being the same kind of brat. The kind to act cute and docile while snickering in the background. And to a degree if you see him snickering it means he probably likes you to some degree to see the real version of him.

I like the idea of Jun being cute towards Tatsuya and getting him to flirt in front of other people. Tatsuya would be shy about it at first but want to indulge his boyfriend. Jun would want him to do it both because he's possessive ("uwu isn't my boyfriend sooooo handsome? Well keep looking cause he loves me and only me") and because he wants to tease his boyfriend. Tatsuya would soon come to realize this and of course would just lay it on thicker and try to get his boyfriend to blush.

He and Lisa would be best friends in the long run but have the most toxic mean girl start before realizing they're so much more powerful together. They're both outsiders so they get the need to be a certain level of mean especially towards people who act on bad faith. But they wont realize that until they're adults. Until then they're friends but they do try to outshine each other and fight over a boy. When lisa eventually gets over Tatsuya she'll try and flirt with other boys. Jun would have 0 interest in them but would 100% flirt with them just to one up Lisa. It would be a problem between him and Tatsuya. It would be their first real fight as a couple. And a good growing moment for Jun.

When they're adults and more well adapted Jun and Lisa will be able to sit down and have a difficult conversation where they'll be able to forgive each other for their actions when they were younger. It'll be the start of their best friend era. They're the kind of best friends who will call each other everyday just to see how their day went. Lisa would be the one to teach him to express himself through fashion. He would have a secret interest in visual kei thanks to eikichi. Lisa would be the one that teaches him that clothes have no gender (in the future when eikichi Tatsuya and Jun start performing Jun would be iconic for his outfits)

Eikichi is protective of Jun and Jun takes full advantage of that. "My big brother can kick your ass" leads to Eikichi getting his ass kicked more often than he wants to admit before he starts working out. His first and only attack is lifting Jun over his shoulder before hauling ass out of the scene. Jun is all devil horns when it comes to Eikichi. All his fights would never be against bigger guys. He would instead target girls (mostly Lisa) knowing eikichi would not fight back.

Eikichi is also unfortunate in that he never really understands that his bros are dating. Not in the sense that he doesn't know Tatsuya and Jun are dating but in the sense that he doesn't realize they're on a date and he just wedged himself between. It becomes a problem early on that the two can't get alone time between Lisa trying to sabotage their dates and eikichi just being there. Jun, in hopes of making eikichi understand, would start some excessive pda. Eikichi still would not understand. He at most would turn his back to them before continuing the conversation. Eventually this is just normal to them. On tour during their broke era the 3 would share a room. There would be at least 3 incidents where tatsuya and Jun would have sex in the room with eikichi in the room before they all realize maybe they need to set boundaries. They never actually set boundaries.

Also, miyabi is very aware of all this. The need to set a boundary is brought up by her. ("I don't think either of you would be comfortable with Eikichi and I sleeping together while you're trying to sleep" 3 confused faces would stare back at her "but Id be sleeping?") When in highschool Jun would plan double dates only for Eikichi to show up alone. Jun would later learn that if he wanted Miyabi to show up he would have to plan the double date through Miyabi. It isn't anything intentionally malicious. Eikichi just thinks they're having boys dates forgetting that the other 2 boys are boyfriends.

With Maya Jun is pure sugar. He goes full baby boy energy. Maya knows the horns are there and can see it when adding another person to their interactions (especially Tatsuya. As cute as he acts with Tatsuya he can't help but tease him and Maya can see it clearly). He can never be a little mean to Maya so Maya teases him knowing he'll never do anything back.

This is all super rambly but I have no other idea how to express how I see him besides trying to get across that while he's a pretty boy he'd also be a stinky boy. The kind who wears all black and steals his friends clothes. He knows how pretty he is and the older he gets the more he uses it to his advantage to start drama and walk away. He would be the type who would see someone checking him out and if they have a partner would come up to flirt and then walk away from a disaster. The type who gets himself into trouble and then laugh as they away with the person who came to save him.

The type who would be a nightmare teenager that smokes and drinks and goes out late at night. Not sneak out because he lacks the adult supervision but would for sure be out late at night. Probably sneak into Tatsuya's room if Tatsuya can't sneak out, or go to music venues with eikichi if they can.

And as corny as it is I love the idea of them becoming more tamed with becoming a parent (bc y'all know I love that flower child au). Tamed not in the sense where they suddenly become perfect parents but in the sense that they would work hard to hide the fact that they smoke. Going to extreme measures to make sure Akira never catches them smoking. Eventually Tatsuya would quit and Jun would follow just because he wants to be a supportive husband. Jun would regret all his social media posts and fame when Akira gets older. Everyone jokes how Jun is being punished for his own antics when Akira takes after him personality wise (dramatic and bratty).

[gay-for-the-snz]

Baggage (M, cold, pt. 3/3)

Sorry this one's short as fuck compared to the other two, but it wound down to a spot I felt really put a nice little cap on things, so I let it end where it wanted to end. Our poor little meowmeow's origin story of sorts has come to a close, but I'll probably pull some other key moments from prior to current day that I wanna explore, so keep an eyeball out for things in the future!

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

⁂

Christ alive. The rain is pouring so hard, it's difficult to see the road ahead of them completely. They're all crawling along the highway, and it's the one of few times in his life that he doesn't actually disagree with going under the speed limit. He has to get this kid home and warmed up. He CANNOT call Bill tomorrow and tell him that he gave him pneumonia and let him die, because he just wanted to buy some damn groceries. The poor bastard is shivering so hard he can hear his teeth chattering.

"Well! Welcome to the west coast. Remind you of back home yet?"

He swipes at his nose with his soaked sleeve, shivering like he's about to freeze into a block of ice. "A little."

"It doesn't usually start like this with such little warning, but it'll probably be going for hours now that it has." He can feel the water running down his face, down the back of his neck, but he's more aware of the kid next to him.

His hair, so long that the braid is laying on the seat behind him, has the water running down him like it's still raining in the truck. He looks like a drowned rat, everything not pulled back into the braid clinging awkwardly to his face and neck, the same way his clothes all stick to him like a second skin still in the process of being molted.

"Captain," he starts, but he's cut off by his own body. A raindrop slips down the freckled bridge of his nose, glides along the rim of one quivering nostril, and disappears with a sharp sniffle--that's immediately undone. "haH'DDZZHhyue! EZZHhuue! hh'DZzhhue!"

He has the courtesy to at least try and turn away from him, angling his body towards him to keep the bags as far from the spray as he can, but there's little he can do to cover when his arms are encumbered by the stuff they did all of this for in the first place. He's never been a squeamish man, seen and done things that would put most off of their lunch, but even he finds it difficult to watch just how desperately contagious he is.

And he doesn't blame him! If anything, it makes him pity the whelp all the more, but he is a walking biohazard like this. "Bless you. You said you aren't sick like this often?"

He looks dazed in the aftermath of it, scrubbing at his nose with his sleeve in lieu of anything else to tend to it with. He can hear the distinct click of wet congestion being shifted as he moves his nose side to side. "Uhmb--" The throat clear doesn't really do anything to give him his consonants back, nor do the several attempted sniffles that sound like he's up against a brick wall, or perhaps a flood. Color rushes to his cheeks at the cringe inducing sound of blowing his nose to try and relieve him of some of the burden of this cold. "Not really."

"Hm." Part of him believes it, looking at how unprepared and caught off guard he seems by the whole shebang, but it's also difficult to think that any creature who's come down with something like this for a cold is someone who isn't predisposed to this sort of thing. He doesn't press the matter any further, though, just tactfully lets it lie. "Quite the welcome to your new life, then."

"It's not the one I expected, that's for sure." He still looks like he needs to sneeze. The soft flare of red-raw nostrils. The tears clinging to thick, dark lashes like he's straight out of a photo of a waifish, consumptive pretty boy from days of yore. The persistent, ineffective sniffling. He looks so utterly cold-ridden that perhaps he just assumes he needs to sneeze, simply because he can't imagine a second passes with a cold like this where he doesn't.

"Alright, come on then." He pries several bags from hands that put up only token resistance, unwilling to commit to actually withholding them from him, but making the show of not wanting to. "You go straight into the bathroom and into the shower, and I'm not going to hear any argument about it."

"But--"

"I said I'm not hearing any arguments. No ifs, ands, or buts about it."

"But Captain--"

He pushes at his back with the head of the cane like a herding dog nipping at the heels of its flock. "Go on, move."

"I'm moving, I'm moving!" He startles, but heeds the direction, if only because he isn't really giving him a choice in the matter.

"If I don't hear that shower start in the next few minutes, I'll wrestle you into it myself. Go get your pajamas and wash up." Truthfully, he wishes he was in the shower warming up, but it would be heartless to make the poor beast wait for him when he's shivering so hard he looks like he's going to shake apart at the seams.

He can see how badly he wants to protest. It's written into every inch of him, the conflict between the desire to gratefully accept the offer and the deep-seated need to argue and insist he couldn't possibly think of it. He finally sighs, hangs his head, and starts to disrobe somewhat, kicking off his boots, peeling off the sweatshirt and socks that are ruining his carpeting in this precise moment.

"I'm going! I was just sitting down for a second, I'm going!" Elliott nearly yelps and jogs to the bathroom when he leans menacingly into the doorway to the guest room a few minutes later, and he hears the bathroom door nearly slam behind him, followed quickly by the water running.

He raps on the weathered wood, shouts through it to him. "I better not see you for at least twenty minutes!" His water bill won't be pleased, but he'd rather pay a high water bill than a high hospital bill any day.

The old wood stove isn't a perfect source of heat, but it does plenty for his needs. He feeds it another log, and hangs up the clothes they've both shed to start drying out. He'll throw them in the actual dryer later to finish out, but it would be a waste to run a whole load for just two outfits. He'll throw a load in the wash to pair them with later, let these do their thing in the meantime.

The sound of sneezing is audible from the shower, the sound so miserable that it makes his heart ache a little. He really does feel bad about the fact that this is how he's having to start a new life--in a stranger's house, preparing for work in the morning, when he's got a monster of a cold and a black eye and enough emotional baggage it would take more than the one plane to bring it all, but so little physical baggage that everything he owns and considered worth bringing fit into two suitcases.

He stops counting at a dozen sneezes in as many minutes, each one just as harsh and contagious as the last, and decides to go get himself changed into something dry before he's sounding the same way. Not that he truly expects to avoid catching this off him, but it'd be better to make it put up a fight than to just roll over and accept it.

He's made chicken soup a million times before, but this is just...soup. No chicken. He isn't sure what to throw in to give it any more real substance than this. It looks laughably inadequate with just chunks of carrot and celery in it. He finally throws a bag of noodles into it, even if he's not the biggest noodle fan, simply so it has something else in it.

He glances towards the pantry, then back towards the sound of the shower, and grabs a can of diced chiles, dumping them into the broth and stirring it together. It smells good, at least, and it's got the right texture, so he doubts his ailing stray will take too much offense to it. What he doesn't know until he takes a bite won't hurt him, and something makes him highly doubt that he's much of a spice guy, but he sounds like he could use it.

The kid himself makes an appearance in the kitchen a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his hair like a turban and a blanket wrapped around his body like a cloak. He looks ridiculous, but he's sniffling, thick and persistent, in a way that makes it sound like none of the congestion was loosened by the steam.

He swipes at his nose with a crumpled wad of toilet paper, and looks at him tiredly. "I can take over if you want to shower."

He does want to shower. Unfortunately, he can already envision him garnishing the soup with his cold while he's stirring it. "No thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Are you feeling warmer?"

"Yeah. I tried to be quick, but it felt so good to finally feel warm again. I was so cold all day."

"You never complained about it?"

He looks sheepish. "Wasn't really worth complaining over." He must see the expression on his face shift, because he quickly adds, "nothing I could do about it, and not a big deal."

He's going to strangle him, maybe. "I'm asking you to complain if you need something changed."

"Oh, it's not a big deal--"

"Fine. I'm ordering you to complain. As your boss, you are now commanded to complain as part of your job. If I don't hear you tell me you want something, it'll be a demerit in your record."

He blanches in response, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. "I don't--you're n--you're not serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack. I expect to hear you complain, long and loud, or you'll be in trouble. If you won't ask for what you need on your own, I'm going to force you to, starting now. Go."

"But--"

"Go."

"A blanket!" He recoils slightly, trying to back away from his own request, to soften the edges of a need into something more gentle and palatable. "I c--I could use another blanket on the guest bed! I run cold and another blanket would be nice!"

"There. Was that so hard?" Apparently it was, because he looks like he's about to change his name and leave the country. "Come sit down, dinner's almost done. It's just simmering."

It probably needs longer, but he's not losing the opportunity to try and move this along, nor is he keen on making this a later night than it has to be. He's hoping to get some sleep tonight, unlike last night.

They both take their seats, and Elliott just moves chunks of carrot around with his spoon in his bowl.

"Doesn't look appetizing?"

"No! No, it looks fine. I'm just, uh, tired. Thinking about turning in for the night, maybe."

"I haven't seen you eat anything since a bowl of cereal this morning."

"Er--well, yeah."

"At least eat something before bed. I can't pack up this much soup into the fridge."

"Right."

They eat in silence, save for the sound of sipping broth and the ever present sniffling from Elliott. Sniffling which is growing steadily more liquid as he eats. Perhaps the chiles really are doing something for him, here. He keeps using the same ratty wad of toilet paper he walked out of the bathroom with, and he finally just leans back to grab him a paper towel off the roll to replace it. "Here."

"Oh! Thank you." He immediately puts it to use stemming the time of a nose that's now incessantly dripping.

"Are you..." He lets the question die on his tongue, because it's clear that Elliott isn't listening to him.

He's slowly drawing back from the table, the paper towel clutched like a lifeline as his breath snags and brows knit together in preparation. He notices for the first time that he's got a gap between his front teeth; small, but present enough he wonders if he's considered braces to correct it. The gasp is much more dramatic than either of them seemed to expect, because even Elliott looks somewhat surprised by it.

"hADT'DDZZHhue! haHDZZHhyue! hh...hH-!? hYIZZHhieww! iIDDSSHh! yiDSSHhue!" The dam has broken, and his nose is dripping so furiously that he's soaked through the measly paper towel already.

He tears off a handful of them to put the lad out of his misery. "Bless you!" The chiles have done their job, clearly, because the wall of congestion has become a tidal wave. Even the sound is audibly wetter, looser in its quality. "You gonna make it?"

He shakes his head vehemently, eyes still squeezed shut as his breath scissors once again. "hiH-! eISSHh'uh! yISSHhhue! hh! h-hiH--!? ...guh! Oh my God." He blows his nose miserably, grimacing at the sound. "I might die."

He just may, by the looks of him. "You can't die, at least for awhile yet. I don't wanna have to call Bill and tell him I killed you with a pot of soup."

"You can tell him I sneezed so much I suffocated." The circle of pansies on his wrist are on full display from beneath the cuff of his sweatshirt as he rests his cheek in his palm, and for a brief moment he can see that this kid is going to be catnip to the local gays. That sort of feminine charm, rather than the more rugged masculinity he would typically expect.

"I'd think your cause of death was actually drowning, by that sniffling." The whole roll makes its way onto the table, and several immediately make their way into his hands to replace what have already been destroyed.

"I might agree with that." He slides his bowl back and stands up. "Have you got cling wrap? I might, uhm, be done for the night."

"I'll put it in the fridge for you. Get some rest."

He watches him go, and sighs once he disappears into the bedroom. He's hopeful that tonight will be a little smoother than the last.

⁂

It's not.

He's laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the symphony of sickness coming from the guest room. He's spent the last two hours either coughing, sneezing, or creaking the bed in a way he imagines he must be rolling like a gator. The bedroom door across the hall opens, and he hears footsteps trail into the living room, and then to sitting on the sofa.

He is going to strangle this kid, maybe. He doesn't want to make him feel bad for it, because he's already a nervous enough beast as it is, but he's going to lose his mind if he doesn't get to sleep soon.

He walks out of the living room, feigns going into the kitchen for water for an excuse to go do something without it being quite so obvious what he's doing. Elliott looks up in surprise to see him, curled up awkwardly on the sofa in his blankets.

"Good morning, Captain?"

"Not sleeping?"

"No, I'm awake for now. I, uh, don't usually sleep well. I try to keep quiet--did I wake you?"

"No." It isn't technically a lie. To wake him would necessitate that he had fallen asleep already. "I just came to get some water. Do you need anything?"

"No, I think I might, uh, just sit here for a little while. Keep to myself. Your bed is really nice, but I'm just kinda--I'm just--I don't know if I'm really gonna get much sleep, and it might be easier to sit up than to be laying down." He looks like hell, gingerly rubbing at his bad eye tiredly. "Would it bother you if I turned the TV on quietly?"

It's very difficult to be mad at him when he is the most pathetic creature on the planet. "Of course not. I'm going back to bed. Come wake me if you need anything."

"Yes, sir."

He doubts that he will. What he's gleaned of this kid so far, he's polite to a fault. He would rather have teeth pulled than be a nuisance, even if that makes him more of one because of it. It hasn't left his mind since he told him at the store yesterday that he hasn't had any parents since he was seven. Who raised him after that, he isn't sure. Hopefully not whatever family he tussled with at the courthouse.

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he rolls back under his blankets. He doubts he wants to discuss it, but he also wants to know what the story is there. There's too many unanswered questions to feel like he has any idea of who's in his house right now. Not that he takes him as dangerous--if anything, he seems like someone who would be tangled up in something against his will, not because he's taken on something out of malice--but there is almost no information to try and fill in any blanks on him.

Most of what he knows is that he hasn't got parents, somebody socked him a good one, and he can catch one hell of a cold. The sounds of it drift from the living room, muffled into the quietest state he thinks he can probably manage to get them. Some peaceful music mingles with it--not a fan of anything exciting for TV then, he takes it.

Fuck.

He gets back up, immediately walks back out to the living room. Elliott startles at the sight of him, and immediately drops the volume so low he can barely hear it. "Captain! Sorry, I thought it was quiet enough."

"You didn't get me up. Listen, and you listen to me well, y'hear?" He waits until he nods, somewhat frantically, those green eyes wide with panic. "I won't promise that whatever life you have here is going to be a perfect one--it's not, and I'm not the kind to sugarcoat things--but I will say that it's going to be better than whatever you left in Virginia. But."

"But?"

"But, you've got to let it be good."

"I don't--"

"You've got to be whatever mess you're going to be. It's fine! It's fine! We're all a mess, I swear it! You just learn to make it work more when you get older and have more experience being a mess! You're never going to get anywhere good if you spend all your time trying not to be a bother to anyone else."

The shivering, cold-ridden blanket cocoon on the couch is silent in response. He can see the wet sheen of his eyes reflecting the light from the TV more vividly. He stands up so suddenly it takes him a little aback to see him shoot up to his full height, but he has little time to be surprised before he finds the gangly beast has thrown his arms around him in a hug.

He awkwardly pats his back as he sobs. "Alright. I know, it's alright." He can't recall the last time he's held someone as they cried. Perhaps it was while he was still married? It feels like too long of a time, but there's such little occasion for it to happen to him, it may well have been the twenty or so years since they parted ways.

He can hear the congestion seeping into the sound of it, adding a ragged edge to the already strained inhales that abruptly to a fit of coughing that sees him awkwardly disentangling himself to push away enough that he can smother it into his elbow as best he can.

"Come on." He takes him by his free wrist, gives him a little tug until he complies, and turns off the TV so he can lead his still coughing charge back towards the bedroom with a hand on his back.

He's a snuffling, teary mess when he wriggles underneath the blankets, curled up securely in a veritable nest of them. "Theeeere we go, alright. Just get some sleep, now."

"Captain?"

"Mm?"

The multitude of what he wishes to express isn't lost on him, even if all he manages is a thin, somewhat choked up, "thank you."

He gives him one little squeeze on the shoulder in an attempt to return the sentiment. "Don't mention it."

He retires to his own bedroom, and leaves him to try and snatch whatever rest he can muster up before morning.

[dragonsdendoodles]

Dunno if this has been mentioned, but can we talk about (in A Map of Days) Enoch teasing Horace about gaining weight when he complains about the sodium content in pizza?? 😭

So that scene is... weird. To me. Because that part specifically I don't particularly know how to feel about, but the scene itself is my favorite scene in the whole series.

Talk of whatever the fuck was going on in this bit below the cut. Trigger warnings in the tags. (This one is long. There's a TLDR at the bottom.)

This is also a pretty tricky subject, so if I say something stupid, please please please correct me.

Before anything else: a very common interpretation of this scene is that it's hinting at Horace having an eating disorder. I am not here to tell you that interpretation is invalid, because it's not. It was not my interpretation, but it makes complete sense to me. I am not the right person to talk about that interpretation because while I do experience body dysmorphia and dysphoria, I have never had an eating disorder. So I'm not gonna do that.

My personal interpretation of this scene was that Horace is a picky eater and also has body issues and/or body dysmorphia, because those are both things I can relate to. That has always been my interpretation, and after several rereads that's what makes the most sense to me personally. I could be wrong. This is entirely my own interpretation and opinion.

Completely literally, this is what the full conversation tells the reader, before it's brought around to Millard being sent out for the second half of what we want to joke about:

Claire likes pizza.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks.

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point.

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

If we go over it point by point and dig a little more into it, we get a few more details, which I think are relevant for the most part, so that's what I'm gonna do.

Claire likes pizza. Not particularly important to the scene other than starting it, but a cute detail nonetheless. We love cute details about Claire.

Horace does not. He picks at it, commenting on the sodium content. Horace does not like pizza and Horace does not like olives. (Agreed on the pizza point, but I will gladly take those olives if you don't want them, Horace.) The big thing here is that "There's more sodium in this than in the whole Dead Sea" comment, which isn't a concern someone his age should be having.

Enoch jokes that Horace doesn't want to get fat and laughs at the mental image. The problem child of the scene, because that's a really mean joke to make about someone, Enoch. Thus far the sodium comment makes it debatable how affected Horace would be about it, but still, not cool, man.

Horace corrects him, claiming it's more about his clothes, then insults what Enoch's wearing, comparing his clothes to flour sacks. This is the interesting part to me, because in seemingly trying to return Enoch's rude joke, Horace somewhat confirms that Enoch hit close enough to home to get under his skin. The specific line in question is, "That I'll bloat. My clothes are tailored just so, unlike the flour sacks you wear," which brings up another thing--these books have a habit of finding ways to call Enoch fat. Occasionally it'll be through deliberately calling something about him pudgy, and more often than not it's through stereotyping (you have twelve important characters and you picked the one established fat kid to be the one constantly talking about and stealing food? Really? Olive or Horace would've worked just as well, but whatever,) but this is one of the only times it comes from another character's mouth. This isn't just a comment, this is deflection. Horace is hurt by Enoch's comment, so he takes the first opportunity he gets to turn it back on him. This is deliberate. (We'll touch on this and the last point again later.)

Enoch specifies where he got his clothes in an effort to dispute Horace's point. He's focusing on the "flour sack" comment, not the implications of it or anything else about what Horace just said. It's just Enoch being Enoch and responding to Horace taking his bait. It reminds me of the scene in MPHFPC where Horace and Enoch suggest gross things for dinner to tease Olive and Claire. (Which I can confirm was them, but that's a different post.)

Claire further specifies Enoch's clothes came from a corpse. Again not super relevant, but not uncommon, fun fact. During the French Revolution when someone died they would immediately start taking the clothes off of them because I mean they're dead, they don't need it anymore. Just something I think is cool.

Enoch makes a joke about getting clothes at funeral parlors. Back to my MPHFPC point, Enoch has been established to be willing to say things just to freak people out. Just because Horace did it with him does not make him immune to it.

Horace loses his appetite at Enoch's comment. Reasonable reaction. I don't want to hear about leaking corpses when I'm already being forced to eat something I don't particularly enjoy. Like pizza.

Miss Peregrine scolds Horace for not finishing his food. Horace reluctantly complies. Classic parent move. It does suggest that the previous conversation isn't very concerning to her, because if it was she'd have said something during it, and she isn't someone who would hear that about one of her kids and just not care if it was something bad. Personally this lowers my concern level a bit, but I also like Miss Peregrine a lot more than other people I've talked to about this, so take that with what you will.

Horace expresses jealousy over Millard's peculiarity, stating that he could gain as much weight as he wanted without anyone noticing. The other concerning comment Horace makes. It all but confirms he is struggling with body image issues of some kind, though we don't know how severe they are. It confirms that Horace's reply to Enoch wasn't just about his clothes, and that if Enoch didn't hit the nail on the head he came pretty close.

Millard clarifies that he's actually decently skinny. This is something we kind of already knew, it just clarifies Millard's body type a bit more. In MPHFPC when he faints Enoch says it's because he "ain't as fit as he pretends to be," so now we have a little bit of detail on that. Regardless, I don't think it particularly helped the situation, but that's unfortunately a theme for Millard in this book.

The conversation moves on to Millard's lack of clothes.

Essentially, the big things we learn from this conversation are that Horace is insecure about his body and that he will tolerate Enoch poking fun at him about it.

The whole conversation, at least Enoch and Horace's contributions to it, revolve around their insecurities or lack thereof. Horace all but confirms he has body issues, and Enoch could honestly go either way: he doesn't react at all to Horace's jab back at him, he only focuses on the insult about his clothes. Enoch could not care how his body looks at all, or he could have avoided responding because Horace's comment had the same effect that his had. We can't tell from that alone, but I'm leaning towards the first option, because in the same book Horace comments on Olive eating a lot and Enoch jokes about her gaining weight as well. (Olive doesn't respond, Olive doesn't care.) His comment to Olive is more lighthearted than this, which I don't think it would be if it were also an insecurity of his.

The reason my feelings are conflicted about this scene is the way Horace and Enoch talk during it. This is played as a joke, it's very obviously meant to be comedic banter between two characters who are known to take shots at each other for the sake of comedy. That's all well and good, but this scene also proves that Enoch touched a decently sensitive nerve here, and Horace doesn't respond particularly uncomfortably. Yes, he deflects, but it reads as if they can only have this conversation because of how comfortable they are with each other. Horace avoids situations that make him uncomfortable, so if he was hurt too badly by Enoch joking about his body issues he'd have shut the conversation down instead of biting back. Enoch is also established in nearly all of the books to care very deeply about his loopmates and their feelings--if he genuinely hurt Horace, he'd have stopped completely, as shown with Bronwyn about Victor in MPHFPC. They've also known each other for what is implied to be nearly if not the whole time the initial Cairnholm loop was open, after seventy years being as close as they are shown to be they would know each others' insecurities. Enoch's significantly more likely to test Horace's limits, but he's absolutely smart enough to know what buttons he can and cannot push: look at the fight he has with Jacob at the end of AMOD. He cuts pretty deep at the end there, but had he not known (or cared) about Jacob's issues with Abe, he'd have said a lot more than, "You're not Abe, so stop trying to be," and he'd have said it a lot sooner.

It's a conversation that flows somewhat naturally and is portrayed a lot lighter than most people would take it, and arguably lighter than it probably should be. The way it reads to me is similar to how my boyfriend and I would talk and joke about our own insecurities, which leads me to believe they can only do this because they know they both know the boundaries. No boundaries appear to have been crossed here from both of their reactions, and this scene is all but forgotten when it's over. If anything this solidifies to me that the narrative wants us to interpret them as very close if not best friends, because a conversation like this wouldn't have happened otherwise. Horace doesn't let random people bully him. He threatened to bite someone, remember. He threatened to hit Jacob once too.

Personally, their exchange is far from a normal conversation, but I think that's the point. Narratively speaking, Enoch and Horace's friendship is fucking weird--you tell me why the nervous yet arrogant neat freak spends most of his time with the jerkwad who probably doesn't shower unless he's forced to and frequently bullies him. Their entire dynamic revolves around lovingly picking on your best friend. The whole point of this conversation is to strengthen that idea in the reader's mind, that they're close enough to be able to take these shots at each other without worrying they're going to hurt the other. Yes, Horace is implied to have gotten hurt, but at most it's only slightly. He doesn't react too much to it other than making a couple of concerning comments about his own image, which are pretty much immediately moved on from because at the end of the day it's really not all that important.

TLDR: It's a weird conversation about a touchy subject that is promptly forgotten about afterwards, which implies neither Horace nor Enoch think it's too big of a deal. Ultimately, it doesn't matter to anything other than giving us insight into Horace's character and Enoch and Horace's weird-ass friendship. It's not a comfortable conversation for anyone except them, and I'm pretty sure that's the whole point. The whole scene overall is still my favorite in the series, because I think it sets up what AMOD's going to be pretty nicely and my juvenile sense of humor means Enoch's singular allotted dick joke was a lot funnier than it probably should've been to me. (Sorry, Millard.)

[tomurawr44]

would you mind writing headcanons of tomura and my oc? she’s a tall goth so i wonder what you’d think about their relationship 🫰🖤

(i’m okay with both sfw and nsfw :3)

TOMURA/OC HEADCANONS!

A/N: your oc is gorg omg! I remember seeing your posts when i first started getting back into my Tomura obsession and it forced me to lock in and actually cook up a coherent oc with lore 😭 I'm so honored I appeared on your radar🖤 maybe I'll man up and finally make my oc into a drawing to post here.... sorry if the nsfw section is short!

WARNINGS: nsfw under the cut, ooc, just assumptions based on her looks so sorry :( I DONT WANNA BUTCHER OR MISCHARACTERIZE HER SOS.....

I know you said her and tomura but toga loves her and tries to get her to hangout with her whenever Tomura has you around him.

they place their beds together in minecraft.

she has beat him in all the games he plays atleast once and he still sulks about it to this day.

they have been to the mall together and she came with him to the mall scene w/ deku to pick him up and to tell him to knock it off.

she's his collar lol she keeps him in place and to stay rational.

i would like to think she's in the league of villains.

they have painted/written on eachother's controllers, mouses, switches, and even on their clothes.

Tomura thinks her hair is really nice and just likes to carefully run his fingers through it, when i say careful i mean he individually holds locs of hair to put them between his fingers so he can run his hands through it.

Tomura thinks she's emo.

she's kind of assertive over him, but not infront of the league because she knows it'll piss him off.

one time she got so happy drunk with Tomura he had to hold her hair back while she throws up in the toilet. she's done that for him too. holding his fringe up while he vomits is such a couple thing.

twice likes to refer/compare her hair to his mask, he thinks it's cool.

dabi also thinks she's pretty chill, and wonders why she's with Tomura when obviously there's better options. (Not him, he's pretty innocent if u have read the bnha smash manga with the villains!)

he likes it when she ties her hair up.

he texts like a dad, a thumbs up or replies with some outrageously stupid image he found online.

Mr.Compress also thinks she's cool, spinner is somewhat jealous of Tomura though, but he understands why you're with him.

Magne and Toga LOVE her. as in, when the league becomes closer they've had girls sleep overs, twice was invited of course, he's the exception.

Tomura, Dabi and Spinner have eavesdropped in these conversations, mostly Tomura and Spinner while Dabi only does it if he's really bored and all he has to do is kick rocks.

Toga wears her clothes sometimes, actually, all the girls in the LoV have done a fashion show with twice.

Twice is her girls girl.

Tomura gets jealous when he walks into the sleepover room only to see you and toga cuddled up, while magne is unknowingly cuddling against twice.

he has taken a photo of it before though.

he's tried to put on height extenders inside his shoes whenever he's with the league, but after the shoe fell off because it was so loose he's never done it again.

NSFW AHEAD!

Remember when i said he likes her hair? he'll put on his gloves master gave him as a kid during sex just to grab a fistful of it and pull her by it.

he loves her chest, so much, he's constantly grabbing at it no matter what and if she tries to push him off he'll pout.

hickeys, hickeys hickeys hickeys. he loves leaving red to purple marks on her pale skin, he feels so good whenever he does that.

he likes to cum on her chest, or get a titjob while he plays some game on his computer.

they have fucked infront of AFO accidentally befor because Tomura assured her he was on mute and probably wasn't paying attention because he called out to his master several times and he got no reply. AFO just wanted to see what would happen if Tomura thought there wasn't eyes on him all the time.

he's sent her links to goth/emo pornos and says 'can we recreate this' (they always do)

he loves the height difference, he loves to nuzzle up against her chest.

he likes to fuck her with some clothes on because in his opinion it's way hotter. (ref to the 2nd pic and her top)

he likes it when she wears heels and lets him hump against her foot, especially with the height difference? he's cumming in his pants that's for sure.

he eats her pussy like a starved man, she has to pull him by the hair to get him to give her a break.

he likes choking her and seeing the red mark formed from his grip, it turns him on so much.

[kissingrhi]

i can’t stop thinking about remer with a size kink TAKE MY PHONE AWAY

this request actually awakened something in my soul

matt's 6'2 [weeps] [wails] [falls to the ground]

definitely realized it in one of the dumbest ways imaginable and was Super embarrassed

like you were probably just comparing hand sizes with him and in his mind he's like "am i attracted to this???"

spoiler alert: he absolutely is

while he is very crude sometimes, he can actually be very gentlemanly!

so he had nothing to do but sit and blush (at least in the beginning) when you would playfully poke fun at how "gargantuanly tall" he is or ask him to carry you everywhere

only way you got it out of him was during an extremely drunk make out session at 4 am

you two smelt like liquor and sweat and you can vaguely recall him mumbling something about how easy you are to move, how "pliant you are in his hands" (his excuse: he's an emotional drunk!)

even though the next day when you brought it up he was absolutely mortified and threw a pillow so hard he thought he'd knocked you out, the secret was out

from that point forward, he was basically shameless

giggles like a mad man at the sight of his hand against your ass, even in the most intimate scenarios

"it's like i can cup both your cheeks with just my fingers" "please shut the hell up"

whenever you wear his clothes he loses it

"you should know better. last time i slammed you into the wall so hard i think there's a dent."

the KING of goofy dirty talk

he'd bust out laughing while fingering you and be like, "aren't you just so precious and small? snookums." with a pinch to your cheek while you're literally grinding against his fingers and begging for him to touch you

once when you were on top you dragged his hand up to grasp around your throat and you're sure you've never seen him that aroused in your life

his eyes darkened and he squeezed a gentle push into one of your pulse points and the same exact time he thrusted up into you, proceeding to ravage you just from how much of your body his palms could cover

whenever you two fight, which is a lot and usually over very stupid shit, it'll most likely end with him pushing you against the wall and fucking you right there

"keep mouthing off and i'll show you how small you are next to me"

such an ass about the difference in your sizes in and out of the bedroom

100000% uses you as a headrest

finds it very endearing and very pleasing when you gag on his length

"no, no it's okay, baby - i'm too big for you, aren't i?" with the stupidest grin on his face

in his sellout era he was the cockiest of all, swinging you over his shoulder and giving your ass a firm smack whenever you'd frustrate him, all while laughing maniacally (it is extremely hard for him to take sex seriously!)

he holds both your wrists in one of his hands during doggystyle

he gets extremely aroused when you take control and the size difference even catches him when he's feeling more submissive

like when he's panting while making out with you and grinding his clothed cock against your knee and you mumble, "not so big and bad now?" into his mouth and against his tongue.....he cannot handle it. will cream his pants. has creamed his pants. doesn't wanna talk about it.

him holding your entire body and moving you while fucking you!!!!! the control does wild things to him

"i can just have you however i want, huh?"

he is so cocky and goofy in bed i cannot stress this enough

[bubble-popping]

day 21 i'm so consistent :) we'll see how long it rly lasts. more cryptid c!dream :D

He decided his best shot, since the thing could fucking teleport, was consulting an expert in the field. "Ranboo, I need your help." The chill of Snowchester was nothing compared to the literal Arctic, especially with his many layers of clothing and furs. The dual-toned ender hybrid stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless for a long moment. "Um. That's... probably the last thing I expected you to say. What, uh, what do you need my help with?"

"I have a pest problem, Ranboo, and I require your specific level of expertise." He explained so eloquently, yet Ranboo seemed even more confused than before.

"Oookay? Um, lead the way, I guess? I don't have anything special to do today, sooo..."

Exactly twenty minutes later, the two were trekking through the snow towards Techno's cozy cottage.

Techno looked over the horizon and smirked. "Perfect. It'll be here soon."

And the way he said that had Ranboo even more on edge, reluctance in his voice when he asked, "Um, what is it?"

"You'll see. It always come out at night," the pinkette said, nonchalant and cryptically terrifying at the same time.

"Oh. Okay."

The feeling of dread only worsened as they sat in Techno's living room in utter silence, not even a crackling fire to quell the awkwardness and tension. However, Techno just looked deep in concentration. His eyes were closed, body leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He almost looked to be meditating, if not for the serious crease in his brow and stiffness in his muscles.

Ranboo really wanted to ask what the hell was going on, why he of all people had to be here, and how it was possible that The Technoblade needed help with something. Finally, after far too long of suffocating silence, Ranboo opened his mouth to speak-

Only for a sudden smash! to startle them both. Techno sprang to his feet and took Ranboo by the arm, hauling him up as well and pointing a finger to his lips. "Stay quiet. Don't spook it."

Ranboo quickly nodded his head and made no complaints as the clearly unhinged man led him to the basement trapdoor--resolutely ignoring how horrific that truly sounded--since he very much liked the fact that his head was attached to his shoulders.

Techno produced a torch from his inventory, marginally adding to the light of the torch already there. Some feet away, near the back of the room, laid the pieces of a broken glass bottle. As they walked closer to investigate, Techno grabbed his sleeve, halting him in his tracks, then gestured with his torch something off to the side.

Well, someone, actually.

Someone that Ranboo thought he recognized, though he wasn't sure why.

He addressed them, a simple greeting, but in a foreign tongue Techno could never hope to understand.

They jolted, retracting from rummaging in a chest to stare unblinking at the two. Their ears were perked, tail raised, the same pose they usually took just before they vanished.

Except, this time, they broke into a wide grin. They responded, just as indecipherable and not too unlike the guttural sounds of regular endermen, but in what Techno assumed to be an enthusiastic tone.

Ranboo too smiled, pointing to himself before pointing to them. Again, they replied, having lost interest in the chest enough to fully face them.

"So, what's up? What's it sayin'?" Techno interrupted, reminding Ranboo of the whole reason he was brought here in the first place.

"Oh! Right, so, this is a Farlands enderman, Farlander for short. They're super rare, especially so close to the server spawn. I'm not really sure why or how he got here-"

"Ranboo, Ranboo, it's great yer makin' friends and all, but can ya ask why he keeps trespassin' on my property?"

"Uh, I can try? I'm actually pretty bad at speaking Enderian besides the basics. I can understand it perfectly, even though he's got kinda, I guess what you guys would call an 'accent,' but anyway, holding a conversation is a whole different-"

The Farlander spoke again, surprising the duo to see he'd gotten closer.

"Oh, perfect! He understands English!"

"Wow, that's really convenient. Well, what'd he say?"

"He said he really likes honey."

Techno blinked, glancing between the two enders. "What does that have to do with my basement?"

At this, the Farlander took out a glass bottle as if demonstrating something while he explained.

"He saw how mad you got about what he did to the hives so he got the idea to harvest the honey in bottles like he saw you do before," Ranboo translated.

"That's it? Ya just wanted honey? Ya coulda just asked!"

He deadpanned and muttered something.

"You wouldn't have understood him. Plus, he didn't say this, but you'd probably be pretty freaked out if he just appeared one day trying to ask for honey in Enderian."

"I was pretty freaked out when this thief snuck into my basement and started stealin' my stuff! It wasn't about honey then, now was it?"

The Farlander fidgeted with his nails, sheepishly saying something under his breath.

"He was just really hungry and needed food, but he's sorry for scaring you."

"Scared? Of this oversized fluffball? Not a chance, I was merely confused. But nonetheless, I accept yer apology."

He beamed, showing off sharp canines, as his tail wagged behind him.

"Well, seems like you guys have this figured out now, so I'm gonna-"

"Ah-ah, not so fast, Ranboo. I wanna know what this guy's plan is! Are ya just gonna keep stealin' from me?"

The Farlander seemed to have a sad look on his face when he spoke now. Ranboo placed a hand over his heart, clearly touched by what he said.

"He'd gotten separated from his haunt in a blizzard. He tried looking for them, but hasn't found a single trace, so now he's alone trying to fend for himself."

"Yeah, sounds exactly like the kinda tragic backstory a traitor gives ya before stabbin' ya in the back."

"I'm... not gonna try to unpack all that, but it is serious for endermen to stay with their haunts until they're ready to go out on their own."

"I fail to see how's that my problem."

"Dude..."

"Yer the other enderman here! I dunno the first thing about takin' care of-"

Their argument was interrupted by the Farlander abruptly throwing his arms around Techno's shoulders and hugging him. The pinkette scowled at Ranboo's smug expression.

"Looks like he's already made up his mind."

And that was how Techno accidentally acquired a roommate.