#justastar

Ace Trappola

One of the densest motherfuckers on the planet. When he heard you question his and the others' expressions, his mind was thrown into flashbacks of you and rethinking everything.

That is until after he shouts:

"Dude! You've got a chick's body!"

Everyone glares at him and Deuce gives him a good slap to the back of the head. Whispering, "Dude, you can't just say that!"

"Uhh... I thought I told yall. Whoops," Reader shrugged. There goes his bathroom existential crisis.

"No. No you didn't. I feel like this is important information to our relation- I mean- friendship!"

Ace felt personally attacked, coming up to Reader and making a scene. Everyone else already accepted it and kinda moved on to raiding Reader's cabinets and setting up their shit in his bedroom.

"Whoops. Sorry."

The night went on as normal, except Ace was just dazed and confused. He watched him like a stalker the whole night, studying Reader's mannerisms and trying to see if the boobs were fake. Nope, definitely real. Or super-glued on really well.

Slowly, he warms up again and goes back to normal throughout the night.

But while everyone is asleep, and Ace is beside Reeder, his eyes are glued to his sleeping face. He begins to imagine ways to win Reader over with this newfound information.

"Hey...!" he whispers, shaking Reader's shoulder gently.

He wakes from his sleep, groaning with mild irritation.

"What in the hell do you want from me?"

"Spoon me."

"Go to bed."

Nevertheless, Reader's arms encircle his friends, pushing his back to his chest. He was much too tired to object or question his relationship with Ace.

Ace, on the other hand, felt that it would make Reader feel manly to spoon him, like a fucking weirdo. It worked, but it was weird.

When Ace got back to his dorm the next day, he kept researching ways to make trans men feel more masculine and whatever. He ended up on forcemasc tumblr.

After that, he became more open and flirty, though with a more masculine undertone. It was to affirm Reader's gender, but was more awkward than anything. Hearing the words "pretty boy" now give Reader PTSD. Still, Ace is lovable and his intentions are in the right place. Mostly.

Ace's awkward flirting and general mischevious nature was endearing, at least.

Deuce Spade

Oh.... OH!

He didn't quite get the hint when Reader came downstairs. But when he did, he realized very quickly how kinda hot it is.

Like, not in a weird fetish way, but the fact that Reader was a self-made man and was so manly that no one questioned why he was chosen to be at NRC (aka kidnapped via horsedrawn carriage from another world), a notoriously all-boys school. It was more manly than something he thinks even Jack could achieve.

So, that night he began talking with Reader about the whole situation.

Reader left the room to grab some water before bed, and Deuce excused himself shortly after to talk with him.

"Hey, man," Deuce began before leaning on the counter next to Reader.

The tap was cut off as Reader grabbed his mug, taking a sip before responding.

"Sup. What'cha need?"

"You never told me about..."

There was a small silence before Reader shrugged.

"Honestly, I thought I told all of you. but I guess not. Whoops."

"You didn't... but thanks for trusting us, I guess."

It was oddly sweet how Deuce was grateful for Reader telling him this despite it being something so casual for Reader now. It made him feel better about being trans, made his transness feel like something special.

Without a thought, Reader reached out and hugged Deuce, arms wrapping gently around his waist.

"No, thank you."

So, pretty much after that interaction, Deuce is whipped as fuck.

Bro researches so much about being trans just for Reader, making sure he can do whatever it takes for him. Twisted Wonderland is much more accepting than Reader's world, but Twisted Wonderland still has statistical delinquency and homeless rates that are higher for trans youth.

Needless to say, Deuce doesn't want Reader to be like him, finding any way to provent him from turning to delinquency from loneliness or lack of acceptance.

Also ends up on forcemasc tumblr btw.

Jack Howl

The most respectful man literally ever.

"Well, it's just a surprise," he admits to Reader later after he confronted Jack about the situation, thinking to address the most sensible person in the room.

"I thought I told yall," Reader admitted, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. It was more comfortable than standing and it was late.

"You didn't..."

There was an awkward pause before Reader just shrugged.

"Oh, well. I was born a girl, now I'm a dude. You don't have a problem with it." It was less of a question than it was a statement.

It wasn't just confidence, but a silent acknowledgement of boundaries. If Jack or anyone had a problem, they were not going to be his friend.

Everyone in the room overheard and silently acknowledged the boundary. No questions about it, Reader is a boy and will be treated as such.

Jack imply watched Reader, noting the way he carried himself with respect and confidence. It was attractive. Like, really attractive.

If Jack were to date someone, it would be long-term and healthy. He knew his worth, and his partner knowing their worth was important.

All Jack could do was admire Reader as they tiredly smirked at him, talking to him... Wait, talking to him. Oh, shit he wasn't listening, just staring.

"-So, yeah. I guess i'll grab the snacks and shit. Mind helping me?"

"Yes. I mean- I'll help you."

His tail was wagging so fast, Reader could feel the air wafting around like a fan.

Reader already had his respect, this interaction only heightened his respect for him, hoping to learn more about Reader and gain his respect back or at least help him.

Another that researches, but mostly on gender affirming care and actions. He already knew about trans people and such because he is quite intelligent and could gather some hints early on in Reader's kidnapping to Twisted Wonderland.

So, he starts asking Reader to hang out with him more to do "boy" stuff. He already did, trying to gain his affection, but he'll just do it more often.

Of course, he has to invite him to workout together, telling him which excercises emphasize which features and what diets will help him achieve the goals he wants while also maintaining a healthy mindset towards gender. This manly-man of man is over here wagging his tail at how manly Reader is and that he helped him better himself.

Over time, Reader becomes more happy, much healthier, more alive. iIt's honestly beautiful, Jack sees Reader as more of a man than himself for being self-made in every way. But confessing his feelings? Scary as fuck, even though he knows it's unhealthy to bottle up his emotions.

Epel Felmier

A/N: I headcannon him as trans btw

Anyways, he's immediately shocked. Not from the fact that Reader was born a girl, but the fact that Reader passes for a man better than he does. Well, not exactly shocked, just jealous. And impressed.

"Hey, Reader," he calls out from the kitchen's opening. Reader was just grabbing snacks to set out or everyone while they talked and such.

"Yeah, Epel?" Reader responded, turning to him. He had a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a tray of whatever else in the other.

When Reader said his name, he flushed. He didn't know why, it's just his name. There was no need to say it, but Reader said it anyways. He said it so nicely, in a way he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

"Uh- could I talk to ya? Y'know, in private?" Epel couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Yeah, gimme a sec to put out the snacks and we can talk in my room."

The next thing Epel knew, he was sitting on Reader's bed with Reader right beside him.

"So," Epel began, taking in a deep breath before blurting "I'm trans, too. And- and I don't get it. I don't get how everyone just knows you're a boy! This ain't fair, y'know?"

He was upset. Upset that he was cursed to always look like a girl no matter what he did. He was brash and boyish, constantly displaying his masculinity only for it to be infantilized and dumbed-down to nothing more than over compensation. It was infuriating. and for him to just now find out Reader is trans only stung more. He loved him, truly, but this felt like somewhat of a betrayal even though he knew Reader did not owe him anything and he should be happy that the guy he loved passed as his authentic self.

"Epel," Reader began, a frown forming on his face to match Epel's own. "I get it. It's not fair. To be fair, I never saw you as a girl and was actually surprised when you said that. But I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. I know what it's like, so why not talk with me?"

And Reader was kind, too? Epel must've fallen for a saint.

He reached out and hugged Reader tightly, getting snot and tears on Reader's nightshirt. Honestly, Reader couldn't find it in himself to care and just embraced him back, happy to find some kind of kinship with him.

How Epel processes this is different. He tries to impress Reader withgrandiose and masculine displays, kinda like a bird flashing his tail feathers.

He doesn't need to research much, but he does try to find what makes Reader feel more masculine by using his own experience.

After the sleepover, he only gets bolder and more physically affectionate to Reader, hoping he'll get the hint. One of these bitches has to man up and confess and it will probably have to be Epel depending on how Reader is.

Sebek Zigvolt

"HOW...? How could such a detail be overlooked on my behalf?"

"I swear I thought I told yall."

That was reader's only defense: That he thought he told them.

"NO."

"Oh... Well, I'm a trans dude."

It's left at that for the entire night. Sebek is somewhat familiar with this idea, just confused that it had to be someone so not-obvious. But this is also a school with the cuntiest men ever, so there's really no gender expectations unless you're Epel.

Sebek approaches Reader the next morning, a slight flush on his cheeks because of the personable topic and the closeness it would ilicit.

Most others have left, called to action by their Housewardens or personal affairs. But Sebek stayed behind, called to this action by Lilia's imposition of his need for contact outside of his small circle. Also because Lilia knew of his crush on Reader and this was with perfect opportunity to get closer.

"Human," Sebek called after Reader. Reader was tiredly walking barefoot to the kitchen to make himself coffee.

Without thinking, Sebek grabbed onto Reader's wrist. This set his face alight with red, pulling back almost immediately despite the lack of protest from the prefect.

"Yes, Sebek?" He questioned, now more awake and concerned for his friend.

"Uh- ahem, I wish to speak on your announcement from last night. I am here to say that you have my support and respect of your endeavors."

"Oh," Reader responded, dumbfounded at such a... vulnerable (?) display from Sebek. Though, this confusion is replaced by concern and amusement at the rouge falling upon Sebek's cheeks and ears.

"Well, I cherish your support," Reader replied, placing a hesitant hand to Sebek's shoulder. "Thank you."

This interaction triggered a fervent want and need for Reader's approval. This is quite similar to his desire for approval from Malleus, though not from the want to be Reader's perfect retainer and knight, but to be his perfect lover.

How lowly, he thought, to be vying for a human's affections.

He does not see Reader differently, only putting together the pieces of past interactions and justifying some behaviors he has. He also does more research on the human stigma of gender and gender expression and contrasts it to the perception of gender from fae. After the war, he remembers Lilia explaining, some human ideas of gender and the imposition of colonial ideals were imposed upon fae and changed some of the culture surrounding gender and their roles. It was a very insightful lesson on the effects of war on the subjugated people that allowed Sebek to view Reader's gender as a divine act of creation and bravery.

My requests are open btw! I have a lot of fandoms I write for, and some may not be listed but go for it if you think i might be a part of it.

Rulez

Life was monotonous and dull. The 'gentle' but crushing reminders of loneliness echoed within cabin walls. These same walls housed you, a being of unimaginable age with an incomprehensible existence.

The comprehension of an eldritch being- one meant to be unseen- is not from mere sight, but being able to understand the imcomprehensible. There is a moment of gazing into the eyes of the abyss in which it stares back, allowing a glimpse into the soul.

This drives many mad, spending days, weeks, staring into nothing to rid the mind of such horrors. Many whom looked into your eyes must spend days rotting away as they begin to comprehend your existence within this normal world.

This is the most 'human' connection you had.

Thousands of years spent this way must drive one mad, yet you persist with no comprehension of time nor space.

There is no need to sleep, as even death's pinky must not graze you.

There is no need to eat, as that would mean you were meant to exist.

There is no need to thirst, as Ophelia once succumbed to the liquid as the drink she once loved would be her demise.

There is only solitude and recreational humanity: Building a cabin, lying in a bed, eating with no change, drinking from the riverbed, and staring at your reflection.

The most human aspect of your existencd is the body in which you inhabit. This flesh is the giver of life, one more akin to the fair sex. You had only learned such a concept after a couple had wandered into the forest, to which you approached with an unspeaking and unseen presence. It was then that you realized the woman bore a sexual dichotomy to the man.

It was then that you bore your gaze to the man in envy of his expression, wishing to tear flesh and bone to reshape this flesh to your liking.

In your infinite sadness, a beacon of light is shone upon you as you awoke in an odd world. A world where your existence is comprehended by the sane and mad alike.

As days pass on, you realize this world is cruel as weel. Malleus Draconia had come into your life.

The night is cold and lightly humid, curling your hair and sticking dew to your skin. In the moon's light, you glow with radiance. You are a masculine form under moonlight and lamplight- divine. It is a habit you kept from your world, to walk around in the night.

There is an old tune you hum under your breath, pleasant and echoing in the silent night.

"My, my," a voice speaks from behind you. You whip around, startled at the figure before you.

It is then that you both stop to stare.

You to assess the person.

Him to admire the beauty and grapple with the existence of another like him.

"I thought it was a trick of the light," he mutters before regaining his composure.

You do not make such a comparison, seeing other beings as completely other from you. In your mind, there is as much correlation between you as a snake and an apple; it is tangential.

"I believe I know what you are referring to," you speak, low and detatched. "Yet I find no correlation."

"This I do not understand," he speaks, face cracking a small smile. "What may be your causation of such traits? Your reputation precedes you as a soul from another world, yet I wish to know your circumstances."

This intrigues you. All wishes to comprehend such a being such as you are snuffed, yet his remains burning.

You step forward, posture straight and menacing. He does not cower. You do not either.

"I am incomprehensible to mortals who may link hands with death," you speak. He believes you bluff at first, but reads the serious expression on your face, seeing no humor in such heavy words.

"I see you found me incredulous. I am a being born of the clamshell, taking form of draconic tenacity and the sex of mothers," your words are complex, taking a moment for the man to understand.

"How interesting," he mutters. His eyes light in intrigue, his love for the old showing profoundly in meeting such wonder.

"You are born of neither fae nor human, you may not die, and you are equipped with such attributes I hold in tandem."

To this, you nod.

"Forgive my incredulous and awe, such fae as I do not live aside from myself. I find... peace in your form."

Such comfort is not afforded by those such as you. Yet, such comfort is not afforded to those such as the man.

"It is not simply my form you take such peace," you tease. "I have not cowered nor hid. Imposing figures such as yourself demand obedience and fear. Perhaps praise and worship. Yet, no equality in such fear nor reverence."

The man before you dropped his jaw, gaping in surprise at your reading of his character. How refreshing, he bagn to chuckle quietly. Such actions amused you.

"I believe I am correct," to which you recieved a nod.

"Yes, how observational you are. I must say, you have proven wonderful company."

The kinship between you two would only grow as time passed.

"My dear," Malleus speaks, snapping you from your trance.

You currently lie in his bed, reading silently with his head resting at your abdomen. The two of you are shielded by large, black, leathery wings connected to your back.

"Yes?" you respond, placing the book at your side.

"I recount many a time my life to you. Our lives are a similar tale, especially with such traits we hold. I find such comfort in our equality, our similarities. This unity between us inspires happiness beyond what I imagined for myself."

Poetic words fall upon listening ears, settling into gentle silence.

This silence is broken ny you, "I... share such a sentiment. Though you are born of a different form and I another that has been reshaped to my liking, I find our similar appearance and life to be a comfort tht I can hold onto."

"We are not alone."

"No, not anymore."

"I love you dearly."

Such wise words are punctuated with a gentle kiss initiated by you. The lovestruck prince is baffled, yet begins to melt though quite unsure. Neither of you are familiar with the action despite having been in love for a while.

The sliding of tears down cheeks soaks warm salt into the mouths of the lovers, manifesting their love as physical. It can be drowned in.

Foreheads meet, horns interlock in a gentle union. Such intimacy is hidden from the world, as such love is only for the two shrouded in darkness.

The tangle of arms enshrining such love as sacred and singular remains as misunderstood as the individuals who share such intimacy.

Transmasc Malleus Draconia with Transmasc Dragon Reader Headcannons

When you arrived in Twisted Wonderland, all eyes were on you. Not just because of the ruckus your presence caused, but the imposing stature of someone such as yourself.

The horns, the tail, the wings, the scales. Such resemblance to the absent housewarden qucikly filled the mouths of gossips.

Upon meeting the Headmage of NRC, despite his unceasing narcissistic statements, you questioned your enrollment. Such a question was quickly met with boastful statements of the esteemed college.

Finally interrupting him, you informed him of your sex and how schools in your world simply care about biololgical sex. To which, he silenced you and announced the many students who were just like you at the school like he was a walking advertisement or himself and the school.

After a while of settling in with your talking furry companion, who was nothing but deprecating remarks and gluttony, you had gotten somewhat comfortable.

So comfortable, you had begun to stretch your wings at night.

With disuse of your draconic features, the ache in your wings grew and so did the need to fly about to rid yourself of pain.

One night on one of your routine flights, you spotted an abandoned building.

Nature had reclaimed its stone and once-polished wood with vines and moss. The gargoyles and grotesques atop the building told the story of a bygone era in their design.

So, you land at the side of the gargoyle, identified by its feature to dispel water. Taking humor in its stature, you mimic its stance with your wings and tail.

It is not your own laugh that you hear below you, though.

A deep, resounding chuckle fills your ears.

Looking down, you spot a tall man with ebony horns, long black hair, and the shcool's uniform with electric green accents.

This must be the infamous Diasomnia housewarden, Malleus Draconia.

You fly down to him, now standing before the man many compared you to.

Such a night sparked many late night walks, visits to his dorm, and talks with his family.

One night, you came to the Disomnia lounge prepared to tell Malleus how you felt.

But the only one there was Lilia, who told you Malleus was in his room and that malleus must be expecting you. Little did you know, Lilia had set you up to find out something more you had in common with Malleus. And, hopefully, end your very obvious courtship.

So, without hesitation, you opened Malleus' door to find him with his shirt thrown to the side. Under his chest were two scars where a double-mastectomy must've taken place.

Quickly, you apologized for your intrusion and tried to leave.

But Malleus stopped you, telling you to come in and shut the door.

The moonlight crowned his head and body in silver. His black locks seemed like pitch in the night. His eyes were the emeralds your kind would hoard.

You'd figured out his 'secret' and now he must face you.

But instead of criticism, you removed your own shirt to show your scars, quickly explaining the smile on your face.

His thanks were met with your own, thanking him for sharing, though involuntarily, such a vulnerable secret

Your body was engulfed in a hug from the prince, where he thanked the seven for placing you in his life, for ending his loneliness.

He was thrilled, finally someone to share in his woes and to understand him

Finally, a soul who again reminded him that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

Then, you remember what you came to do

In your lifetime, you had never thought kinship could be forged with another being, yet life had found a way to give you grace

His reciprocation is nothing short of a perfect kiss engulfing your lips. Happily, you kiss back.

You both indulge in the earthly pleasure of kissing to which life had seldom allowed for

Malleus is sure to cherish such a kiss for centuries, as you will

The same could be said for Malleus, growing up as the expected 'princess' of Briar Valley, yet becoming the prince. Though, such opposition was quickly hushed by Lilia once out of hiding.

The kiss ends far too soon, yet it must for you both need to breathe.

Skin-to-skin, you hold each other in silence. It's nice and quiet, unburdened by life, because you're holding someone you love and cherish. Your wings vaguely shield you both, but don't obstruct your faces.

Perfect, because your silence is broken by a click and shutter noise.

Lilia had taken a picture, muttering something about how hes putting this in the family photo album before scurrying off once he heard the footsteps of Silver and Sebek ready to check in with their prince before he went to sleep.

Neither of you is hearing the end of it, especially from Sebek.

At least you have each other now, no longer left wondering if there were others like you who would accept you for who you were, including the family you gained with Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Grimm.

Mortals.

Mortals were, in all sense of the word, bemusing. They were all made of love, yet not all loved or wished to love. There is an “or” because those who wish not to love fall harder than a body from the balcony of a shitty apartment. They do it over and over, reincarnating with the same heart and soul that yearns for death rather than love because the former is a much quicker pain.

Wukong felt neither inexplicably soul-crushing self-realizing lack of love nor overwhelmingly disgusting love that drove mindless and staggering suicide. He didn't even feel a kind of sick purgatory between the two. Though, given those two options, neither was heaven, making a purgatory much more bearable than either.

Even with this truth of his predicament, Wukong felt this hold upon his chest by this unknown hand. For hundreds of years, he felt these hands that grabbed and squeezed at his insides. They sweetly caressed his face as they cracked his ribs oh so tenderly to reach his heart and lungs. They sowed themselves like seeds in his body and mind, the flesh they touched intrinsically knowing this feeling and expecting this harsh touch.

Wukong felt it much harder recently. Much, much harder.

Reader was a man. A man with this hold on Wukong's heart that felt like those invisible hands. They were Reader's hands, he learned. The callouses, scars, and roughness of those hands being the same of that which reached into Wukong's lungs to force him to breathe them in.to his esophagus. It was sickening.

This man that held his heart in those rough hands was the wearer of a cut sleeve, a perversion to mankind and destined to rot and die like cattle. Though, MK and Mei seemed to oddly not care about this obvious provocation. Even Tang and Pigsy seemed to allow this stain upon their acquaintance.

It baffled Wukong; mankind's fluctuation of culture and acceptance was arbitrary.

Wukong had seen comrades die again and again. Humans died. Humans faded to dust. He had seen for himself the carnage of battle and bloodshed turn the bloodied and desolate fields change to the green lands and hills on which children play. It was funny, but only he found such humor and did not laugh once at that particular thought.

The Shame Temple in which Sun Wukong resides is a far trek, but worth it for Reader. Oh, how kind and gentle a man may be? After destruction and death before his own eyes, he smiles with gentility. Reader's finger flex as he grips the cloth bag clutched in his scarred fist.

What shuffles in the bag are peaches, fresh from the peach tree sitting atop a hill by his home. Reader's shirt sleeve is cut off from a previous battle. He would rather not waste a perfectly functional shirt and wore it still, aware of its odd asymmetry. It did not matter, especially when his company was brought as a confidant and friend. Something about those words and their connotations of platonic feelings ate away at Reader's heart.

Wukong had been avoidant of any attachment, burden, or otherwise closeness for so long. loneliness does that to a person; makes them avoid ever feeling lonely again by making sure that there is nothing to lose. He would rather not lose Reader. Even so, he avoids him like the plague and nearly cuts him from his life to avoid being hurt.

An immortal being with no end in sight is often a mortal thought, Wukong is aware. It's also his thought. He is the immortal being with no end in sight, an existential burden of bearing the heavens upon ones shoulders and shouldering that weight until the heavens themselves collapse into nothing along with everything he loved. Something mortals say; Dream of Endless and Hob meet in a tavern every 100 years to discuss Hobs' gift of immortality from Death. Wukong sometimes wished to be this “Hobs”.

The trail to the temple was foreboding and long, but Reader persevered. he goes to the temple and knocks upon the wood. It cracks the air with its loud and abruptness within the cave. Reader steps back, allowing Wukong to step out upon the porch and greet his companion.

The smile the Monkey King held faded after a moment, unsure for once in his cocky life. He was perverse and hedonistic; Wukong disappointed even himself.

“Good morning, Wukong,” Reader greets while holding out the cloth bag of peaches. “I picked these this morning. I wanted to give them to you since I know you love them.”

Wukong eagerly takes the peaches, smirking at his confidant. He holds the peaches to his chest with playful reverence before looking upon the gifter. “You know me quite well, bud,” he jokes. Of course Wukong adores peaches, it's a fact that may as well be written in stone. “Come on in. I've been bored all day.”

Reader knew Wukong long enough to know how he was, operated upon his arrival. He steps in, thanking Wukong. It was near-silent, only small glances exchanged as the two walked further into the temple to the living room. It was messy, but nothing seemed to bother Reader about said mess. Reader only climbed onto the couch and made himself comfortable within Wukong's space. This is the closest he has felt to anyone besides his apprentice. Even with such a wholesome and tender setting, he believes himself perverse for wishing to lie his head on Reader's shoulder.

With stiff shoulders, he sits beside Reader on the couch and places the bag in his lap. It's uncommon for Wukong to allow himself to display fear or hesitance, but Reader brought upon this feeling within his bones. he was unsure if it was familiarity of the hands.

“Wanna watch some trash TV?” Reader questions, handing Wukong the remote to the television before them. This was Wukong's Shame Temple after all. “I came over in hopes we could hang out. I don't care how we spend it, I just want it to be with you.”

Those words from his mouth and that voice sent Wukong's heart to palpitate. His face became flush beneath the fur upon it as he sheepishly took the remote within his hands. “Yeah, sure, bud. What about Monkey Cop or something? MK likes that show I think,” Wukong muttered as he selected the show.

The light upon their faces is moving and changing in chromatics. It was pretty. Reader looked pretty. Wukong looked pretty. The other was pretty to the other. In that lighting, it seemed Wukong's body was unaware of its movements to make himself comfortable. Letting his guard down was a luxury in war. He was never fully asleep, never fully vulnerable. This luxury of vulnerability, even diluted, was worthy of tears as he found his solace within the shoulder of his confidant.

Wukong's head laid upon Reader's shoulder where his sleeve was sliced. The feeling of fur upon skin laid bare was not lost upon Reader. He looked upon the beauty and had to stop himself from gasping. His mind raced and his his body reacted with the flushing of his face. Reader tested his luck and gently took Wukong into his arms to hold him just a bit closer.

Wukong did not stir. If he had, it would have been of his own volition as Wukong was aware of his companion's actions. Greed was allowed for just a moment. He wished to revel in the depraved perverseness of wishing to be cherished and loved wholly. To be held in such a way mimicking that of a cradle or caring lover comforting their significant other. He wished to never let go, no matter how long he had lived without this touch before. He felt as though his heart would stop beating upon loss of skin-to-skin contact.

Of his own reluctant volition, Wukong stirs and looks upon Reader. Those thoughts of loving this man, as perverse as they are viewed, are flooding back with a reverent tone. Reader looked upon Wukong the same; reverential and with little pause. Why must this wholesome love be deemed perverse and sickening by those who believe they are the heavens?

Wukong decides to try and deflect the situation by biting into one of the peaches before offering it to Reader. “Here, bud, you gotta try these!” He exclaims, pushing the peach to his cheek playfully to try and make this situation much more comedic to cope with the intimacy he was not sure he would be ready for. Reader laughs before biting into the peach from Wukong's hand where Wukong had already bitten.

People who say that ignorance is bliss are morons.

Intelligence, the ability to accurately assess and address an issue is definitely not bliss, but it is rewarding to solve and remedy a problem.

Remedy, it's what Cater needed. He sought asylum in the arms that held him currently. Remedy, that's what Reader was. He was his home, his remedy, and his stitches.

When Reader found Cater, Cater was an open wound. His insides poured out, leaving behind himself and his body sitting limply inside to stare back at this threat that was Reader. He stared, stared with hollow and empty eyes with threats embedded into their pupils. The stare shook with hesitance and fear.

Reader did not flee, did not shout, and did not blame. He only stood, staring, before he drops to his knees to hold and soothe the other boy gently. He stitched him closed. Cater was put back together, whole, and still hurt. Just because he held him together doesn't mean Cater wouldn't be scars. Scars fade, yes, but they never go away. But the healing is something to learn and grow from.

Cater lies in his dorm room, cheek pressed to Reader's chest. His ear rests at their heartbeat, listening to the steady rhythm. It beat for him, he remembered. Cater remembers Reader grabbing hold of his hand and leading it to Reader's chest. He held it there and told him that his heart beat for him. It was corny and they laughed about it afterwards, but it was still appreciated and born from love.

It was a love Cater didn't get to experience often, especially with his social media presence and having to put on this fake happiness. Cultivating this sweet, flawless, eccentric persona was exhausting, even feigning traits of himself to make Cay-Cay feel more real than Cater. It terrified him.

Reader's fingers planted themselves in his hair and took out his hair tie. The orange-to-gray hair molds around his fingers, allowing them to sew into his hair like seeds. It's calming, the gentle scratching movement of Reader's fingers.

Reader's other hand pulls the covers over them both to lock in more heat in the autumn chill. Cater smiled against their clothed chest, reaching out to capture their hand in his. Cater just holds it, wanting to feel his skin on his. While he lies there, Cater feels his lover's eyes on him. He, no doubt, has that boyish smile Cater fell for splitting his face with reverence for Cater.

Soon, Cater lifts his head to stare back into Reader's eyes. he stares, searching his eyes to find a semblance of disgust or a twisted love built on forged kindness. But he finds none  of it.

Reader's eyes beamed with reverence, no matter how light or dark they seemed. There was always room for Cater in his eyes. Those same eyes crinkled, having scrunched from held laughter behind a bitten lip. Cater always thought that he looked handsome when he did that, for some peculiar reason.

“Hey?” Cater calls out softly, clearly calling out to ask a question. “Hey,” Reader answers, clearly teasing but allowing room for Cater to open up. A smile cracks Cater's previous and almost permanent smirk. it almost makes him rethink his question.

“Why do you love me so… you-like?” He questions, voice soft and slow. He isn't doubting his love, simply questioning why. 'Why do you love me like this, so soft and something I can only say is you, hun?"

It's a valid question, and Reader thought for a moment before answering. Their hand squeezes his, reassuring Cater that they were taking him seriously.

“You deserve it,” Reader answers earnestly. “You deserve to be loved all soft-like. I think if I love you, I should love you in a way that… nurtures and cares? I don't know how to say it, I just think you should be loved like… this. Like you're Cater Diamond and I want you, just because you're you. I don't need you, yeah, but no one should need anyone. And besides, if I needed you, that love ain't genuine, it's out of necessity."

That's all he had to say. All he had to say for Cater to look at him dumbfounded. A tar slides down Cater's cheek, slow and taunting with its lingering warmth.

Being the concerned boyfriend Reader is, he wipes Cater's tears, holding his face tenderly and giving him the option to pull away if he needed space. “Hey, honey, are you okay?” Reader questioned with a tender tone. He leaned in and inspected his eyes, searching for answers. What came next was heartbreaking and so rewarding all at once.

“I thought I didn't deserve you. But I'm rethinking that, definitely. I think I deserve your love, you, and I love you..”

That was all Reader needed to flush and have this lovestruck look cross his face that he only now saw on Cater.

“I love you, too,” Reader answered, looking down at Cater's lips. “Can I kiss you?... You can say ‘no’,”

Cater flushed a shade darker, meekly nodding in an uncharacteristic fashion. “Yes,” was all he managed.

Reader's fingers cupped Cater's jaw and led his face to his. He paused when they were only a couple centimeters apart to admire Cater's face up close; the face with one eye instead of two. Then, Reader kissed him, closing his eyes and savoring the moment like it was their first kiss together. Their actual first kiss together was much more awkward and ridiculous, though.