#Fireside Favourites

[strixessabre]

He's a Fad, that's for sure

( Strixes' Sabre )

[possible-streetwear]

[mycological-mariner]

hope I'm not too late hah :) basswood and sycamore for the writer ask game?

You’re not too late!! <3

Basswood — what’s something calming in your story?

Fireside storytelling! Every time the characters stop to rest for the night, there’s one character who insists on telling scary stories which quickly become normal stories and over time they’re something that Icarus begins looking forward to each day. Also, the realm of one of the gods is designed to be as calming and safe as possible and it’s such a delight to write!

Sycamore — which character is protective, would be a great person to turn to in times of danger?

Esp is the most fiercely protective and loyal, but she is also twelve and reckless and the most in need of protection. Welig is probably the safest bet in this story, even if he’s got a spine like celery

[wellenklavier]

when i havent listened to fad gadget in too long i get withdrawal symptoms such as an intense and all consuming need to hear Ricky’s Hand

[whoopseydaisy]

when ur just hanging out by the fireside and erika quotes romeo and juliet 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

[schisms]

to have and to hold is depeche mode’s sexiest song

[all-rock-and-roll-is-homosexual]

oh shit i forgot it was frank tovey's birthday too. fucking love fad gadget.

[mistergandalf]

ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO: FINAL ROUND

“Still, I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales. We're in one, of course, but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards. And people will say: "Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring!" And they will say: "Yes, that's one of my favourite stories. Frodo was very brave, wasn't he, dad?" "Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits, and that's saying a lot."

'It's saying a lot too much,' said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. 'Why, Sam,' he said, 'to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you've left out one of the chief characters: Samwise the stouthearted. "I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn't they put in more of his talk, dad? That's what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam, would he, dad?"'

'Now, Mr. Frodo,' said Sam, 'you shouldn't make fun. I was serious.'

'So was I,' said Frodo, 'and so I am.”

SAMWISE GAMGEE vs. FRODO BAGGINS

See the ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO MASTERPOST for details and follow #ultimate tolkien blorbo to cast your vote for the blorbiest blorbo of all!

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic feb 12 - fireside - 1k words

aka teenager!Harry and jeggy dads comforting him

Regulus startles awake at the sound of the front door and blinks his eyes open to Harry standing before it, shoulders tense and a deep crease between his brows. He slips into a little more sheepish expression when he realises he’s just woken Regulus up.

James is still snoring lightly next to him, one arm thrown over his head and shirt rucked up to expose the wide happy trail over his belly.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, visibly gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he kicks off his converse.

“That’s okay,” Regulus responds, voice raspy from residual sleep, and he watches Harry stiffly hang his jacket and then just stare back at their front door like it personally offended him.

Regulus sniffs and detangles himself from James’ big, heavy arm half thrown around his shoulders to get up. Harry only swivels his head once Regulus comes up right behind him, plush slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor.

The hard line looks even deeper up close and Regulus’ heart clenches with it as Harry looks up at him with a stormy kind of torment in his beautiful, big eyes. He clasps his son’s neck with a palm and tugs him into motion, nodding down the hall. 

“Kitchen,” he decides and Harry nods, letting himself be guided into the adjacent room.

Regulus seats him on one of the stools at the kitchen island and tugs a few scratch cards from the mail on the counter in front of him. Harry pulls his wallet out of his jeans’ back pocket, letting it slap down on the tabletop before grabbing it again and rummaging for a fitting coin as Regulus goes to grab two mugs for them. 

He grabs Harry’s favourite—a birthday present from Ron and Hermoine engraved with a bunch of pictures of them, the handle and inside dark red—and then the curvy white one with a cat wearing sunglasses sketch art for himself. Regulus pours milk and pops them into the microwave.

When he turns Harry is furiously rubbing away on the sweepstakes, already through his third and bouncing his knee restlessly in his seat.

Regulus lets him do as he needs, watching him as he waits for the microwave to ping. He grabs the honey from the shelf, fishes for a spoon in the cutlery drawer and assembles their hot beverage once the mugs are ready to be taken out.

The spoon is clinking against the ceramic as Regulus mixes in the viscous sugar and when he turns to join his son, Harry is already standing in front of him, expression troubled, still.

His back to the kitchen light Regulus can see Harry’s eyes glassy behind his specs so he puts the mugs down on the counter again and opens his arms for Harry to step into.

His son goes immediately, slumping forward and wrapping his arms loosely around his back, forehead coming down on the top of Regulus’ shoulder with a heavy sigh. Regulus cups the back of his head, fingers scratching soothingly and the other hand driving long strokes up and down his back. His hoodie smells smoky, his hair too—he must have been at the fireside with his friends again.

“Bad evening?” Regulus mumbles into the black bird’s nest of his son’s hair.

Harry ruts his forehead against him in a nod, grunting an affirmative.

Regulus sighs, “I’m sorry about that, bug.”

There’s a sniffle, more nodding and Regulus suspects Harry is carefully choosing not to use his voice again lest it breaks.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Harry lifts his head and Regulus’ hands go to cup his cheeks. “Maybe later,” he answers with a shrug, eyes averted.

“Of course,” Regulus nods, swiping his thumbs over Harry’s temples.

“It’s just–” he breaks off with a huff and Regulus ducks his head to catch his gaze.

“Just…?”

Harry takes a deep breath, “There’s someone.” He scrunches his nose so hard is dislodges his glasses, “They’re fucking infuriating, honestly.”

“Okay,” Regulus nods. He lightly narrows his eyes, “In a feelings kind of way?”

Harry groans bitterly at that, head tipping back and eyes clamping shut. “I hate being a teenager.”

The corners of his lips tug but Regulus reigns it in quickly enough before Harry sees. He rakes his fingers through his son’s hair instead and pulls him into a fierce forehead kiss.

Harry sighs explosively and simply returns back to the embrace just when James, expression sleep bleary and hair somehow more awful than their sons, shuffles into the kitchen, scratching through the hair on his stomach. They exchange a quick glance once James blinks the situation into consciousness, noticing the violated scratch cards and probably the smell of sweetened milk in the air as well.

“I love you, baby,” Regulus mumbles in a remindful tone, arms squeezing around their son.

Harry’s hair tickles Regulus’ nose when he nods. “I know.”

James drapes himself over Harry’s back, his hands sliding along Regulus waist and down until he can comfortably hook his thumbs into the waistband of Regulus’ sweats. “Love you, Hazza,” his husband mumbles, voice firm despite the sleep clinging to it and his beard scratching against the lining of Harry’s hoodie.

Regulus kisses the crown of his head and then the side of Harry’s.

They make an additional mug for James—with double the amount of honey for his husband because that glorious dad-stomach doesn’t come from just anywhere—and then all pile on the couch, huddled close together under the throw blanket as James puts on Brooklyn99 on Netflix.

Regulus’ arm is numb in a matter of ten minutes and James is back asleep in a matter of five. The soft snoring seems to be great background white noise though because they barely get through one episode when Harry’s breaths start coming slower as well where he’s cuddled into their sides.

He clicks the TV off, sinking deeper into the sofa cushions and when Regulus falls asleep it’s to the sounds of his family and the smell of warm honey and a whiff of smokey bonfire. 

They should make smores tomorrow.

[disteal]

Modern adaptations of The Iliad and Odyssey and Persephone often feel so unimaginative and dull when they’re completely removed from the oral tradition context they were composed for. They’re poems written for the philosophical traditions of the ancient world, and they feel like fireside fables because they are; full of warning about piety to fickle and demanding gods and steeped in this old-world mythological logic that’s still so captivating.

It’s not the most enjoyable reading by any means, but I can recall and retell the story of Odysseus tricking the cyclops so easily, the way I couldn’t for even my favourite books. It’s written for storytelling, and it’s a bit of a lost art!

And you really do lose me when I read an adaptation of the classics and it’s got a surface layer of the myth with no poetry underneath. When you’re bogged down in the literal or mired in the traditions of modern narratives, you totally drain the magic from the thing.

[sofasoap]

Sofasoap's Call of Duty Fic Rec

Always wanted to make a list of my very subjective CoD fic rec list, and also I promised my good buddy @groguspicklejar ( famous author of Beloved series) a list of fic recs, let me list some of my beautiful mutual's and some amazing writers and artists so they can go binge read.

Edit : I'll keep adding artist/writers on as I go. When my brain cells is functioning.

@saltofmercury -Let's start off with the mother of my Mini MacTavish. The one who made me fell in love and hit the nail in the coffin for CoD fandom.

If you are into König, her " Break-in" series is a must read. check out her Soap fics too :) Masterlist

@floral-force - My bestie! delicious Simon/Ghost fics.

American Hospitality is my favourite. Or honeypot is guarantee making you crave for more :)

Check out their Mando fics too :)

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - You want slow burn? check out lovely Bear's "The Roommate Series". Wonderful progression of relationship between Simon and his room mate. Your Friendly Neighbor Soap and Shy reader, OH SO CUTE.

@deadbranch - Spy and Cold war style fics? You are in the right place. The killing moon and Dying sun series. Gut wrenching.

or check out the light hearted None Taken ( personal favourite!), threesome fics? Goth style Reader? Check out their MASTERLIST for full list of goodies.

@brewed-pangolin The president of "Soap Squad" club.

Fireside Whiskey - personal favourite. Soft and thoughtful Soap is just heaven. Kati's page is full of wonderful Soap deliciousness. check it out if you want some Soap fun.

@writeforfandoms  - Jen jen jen jen jen. Multifandom talent. AU Prodigy. But let's focus on the CoD here, Puppy Love - Price and puppy? can't go wrong with that. Born for Greatness and Howlin' For You Shifter!AU is my latest obsession here.

@random-thot-generator - Kris, The princess of Thotland and Thotlandia. Their latest work: A Patient Man - had me all hot and bothered. Sweet sweet Rudy. OH how can you be so sexy.

@jynxmirage, Jynx!!!! the one I blame for falling into Top Gun fandom. but that's not the point :P

Communication is Key - my current obsession :) Soft caring Price, oh give me this Captain price any day...

@as-is-above-so-below  - Oh Gezez, Simon X OC ( Freya ) fic The Captain is utterly brilliant. Angst, suspension, Thirst, smut... you name it, you get it.

@roosterr - my Fellow Nikolai fanatic, check out her "guardian angel"

series, action action action and of course, love story :)

@siilvan - another one of my fellow Nikolai fanatic, Aqua Regia

series , Nikolai the flirt, sexy flirt , complete with smut * smirk *

@homicidal-slvt - How can I forget the spark to my Lastochka series?

and one of my biggest supporter.

Check out their creative CoD Headcanons and full list of CoD works that will guarantee satisfaction.

@nrdmssgs - to round off my Nikolai fanatic club , and also brilliant artist, A heart full of pity series is one of my latest obsession featuring good old Nikolai.

@captainpriceslover - my crack fic inspo buddy ( miss you a lot!!!). the one gifted me ideas of Soap dispensers lol.

aiaigasa (相合傘) - featuring our TF141 sweet boy, Gaz, had my heart melting.

@starstruckmiraclekitty  - You want H/C and scenarios? * falling out of the bag * here is the place to go. :)

@random0lover - you want soft fluffy Soap? Hot Chocolate & Hoodies, you want angsty type of story? Open Wounds and War Paint

you get all with Kat!!!

@lethalchiralium , how can I forget Keri! ( I knew I forgot someone.. argh )

@namedlunagoddess - another 3Drender goddess. OH CHECK OUT HER Sowa Team fic if you are into Gromsko, its HOT SMUTTY DELICIOUS FIC.

The Happiness series, don’t let the title fool ya (well it does bring you happiness reading such talented writing) this story is like washing machine, throws your emotions all over the place, let you grip onto your chair, wanting more.

@mistydeyes so many awesome stories to choose from! My current favourite is "choose your flowers, carefully" Good old Gaz x reader story, and one of my favourite trope - childhood to lovers 🥺 please go check it out!

Now , Some brilliant artists:

@shkretart - This utterly utterly talented person, Price and Nikolai and Simon, will have your nose bleeding within 0.1 seconds.

@ave661 - out of this world 3Drenders always have my eyes popping out of the socket.

@nrdmssgs - mentioned once, should mention again, beautiful art :)

@wombywoo - TF141 boys in their dress uniform? YES PLEASE.

@loneghostwolf oh, another wonderful 3D render artist that bless us with wonderful food of the CoD boys

@hffhifjou - You want rugby boys? You get rugby boys :) and football. and all sort of deliciousness :)

@lululandd  - FROGGY CoD boys!!!!!!!! and wonderful fics too, please check THEM OUT MASTERLIST

I am sorry If I miss out anyone. after 13+ hours at work I am exhausted.

[misskattylashes]

The story of Milex in Arctic Monkeys albums

Whatever People Say I Am That’s What I'm Not

I'm a normal lad going out and getting off with girls, but fuck I really fancy the guitarist with The Little Flames.....and he's a boy (Probably Couldn’t See For The Lights)

Favourite Worst Nightmare

I have a massive crush on my best friend and I'm only happy when I’m with him, even though I fuck things up a bit. (505)

Humbug

Shit! I’m in love with my best friend and we've slept together and it was the most amazing thing ever but I’m famous now, with a famous girlfriend and I have to pretend to be straight, even though I look like a beautiful girl myself (My Propeller, Fire and The Thud, Potion Approaching, Jeweller’s Hands)

Suck It And See

I’m straight! I’m straight! I’m straight! Look America I’m straight! (Every song on SIAS)

AM

I can't help it, I’m still in love with my best friend but he is a commitment-phobe and keeps breaking my heart and on top of this I am now a heartthrob and we have to keep it all secret (Do I Wanna Know, Fireside, I Wanna Be Yours)

Tranquillity Base Hotel and Casino

I’ve been on tour with my best friend and he suddenly realised he’s madly in love with me too, but I had too much to lose if I sacrificed my career for him, and he changes his mind again so we can’t be together even though I’m still madly in love with him too (Star Treatment, Golden Trunks, The Ultracheese)

The Car

I’m still madly in love with my best friend, it broke my heart when we split up, but I offered an olive branch for us to be friends again, and who knows one day we might be able to live the life we want (There’d Better Be A Mirrorball, Jet Skis on the Moat, Sculptures of Anything Goes, Hello You)*

*And hopefully one day he will release album telling me he still loves me and wants to make a go of things. He just needs to work on his commitment issues.

[mostlyinthemorning]

Noahvember Day 16

Don't forget to vote in the poll at the end of this post.

It is! It is the baseball day that 45% of you wanted.

Of course, we're all familiar with Noah's love of the baseball episode, but let's revisit. For science.

I love whenever Noah and Karen are together. Please let them do more things in the future.

And, of course, a photo for the ages:

Noah was interviewed about his love of baseball for The Athletic (screenshots because it's paywalled)

How about some very fun fanart by @smileyrice. Check out their account for lots of great Schitt's Creek fanart.

There are no shortage of baseball fics (go read them all) but this has always been a favourite:

Walk-Up Song by achoo_gesundheit

Today's choices:

[darklyndivinely]

Fireside

Fandom - Obey Me!

Pairing - Lucifer x gn!reader

Summary - "I can't have you being hurt." "Don't worry, nobody can hurt me as much as you did."

Warnings - Angst and no fluff whatsoever <3 mentions of drinking, implied horny times.

Wordcount - 1200

A/N - the fastest I've ever written anything tbh, and I'm happy with it. Yes I made up some demon names in there. No, I don't care if Lucifer doesn't curse so spontaneously, he's feeling feels ok, give him a break. Hope you all like it!

OM!Masterlist • Leave a tip! • Taglist Form

You knew what you were doing. And you knew what Lucifer would say when he’d find out. It wasn’t as if you didn’t care. The rules were there only for your safety, after all, you understood that. But the House of Lamentation had gotten suffocating in the past few days. It felt as if the very air of your room was leaden, laced with painful poison that was difficult to gulp and harder to stomach. It was not just your room though; you seemed to find ways to think about him everywhere, and it was driving you crazy.

So when Asmo had told you about a ‘casual’ get-together party at The Fall with a former business partner, you had pounced on the chance. Now, while you were not regretting it, you were certainly a bit disappointed. You had expected a bit of reprieve from the raging sea of thoughts that always plagued your head, the haven of blankness that usually accompanied when you let yourself indulge in the loud music of the club.

Instead, here you were, sitting alone at the brightly lit bar, swirling Lucifer’s favourite cocktail in your hand, and trying and failing to find Asmo in the bouncing crowd. He had introduced you to the host, a beaming, beak-nosed man that had shaken your hand a little more intensely than you had been expecting, shortly after arriving. They had gone away for a chat, and gotten lost it seemed. You didn’t mind, not entirely. You had a comfortable seat, no one had tried to eat you yet, and there was decent music playing. 

You touch the cool drink to your lips, enjoying the sweet ripple that shimmies across your tongue, and pluck the tiny red umbrella that decorated the rim. You fiddle with it absentmindedly, doing another survey of the dance floor for Asmo and his wavy pink hair. Behind it, all the way at the entrance, you catch eyes with Lucifer, his black cape another shadow against the dark door.

Your heart jumps to your throat, the taste of the sweet cocktail resurfacing in your mouth. You remember the cut of his face against a black night a week ago; the feel of his bare skin when you had touched his wrist and tried to get him to meet eyes with you. Diavolo’s gazebo had highlighted your still figures in blue, the water reflecting back an image of a couple that never was.

He had refused to look at you, keeping his head turned and away towards the moonlit water. He had twined your hands together, fingers locking so beautifully. And then he had pulled away, turned, and walked back inside. His cape was left on your shoulders. The letter inside had verbalized all that he couldn’t.

And you had tried, god, you had tried. But it was so damn difficult to be near him, to sit in the same class three desks away and pretend that you weren’t admiring the sway of his bangs as he wrote. It was so damn difficult to pretend you weren’t hopelessly in love with him and that the sight of him so far away yet so hauntingly close didn’t ground your heart to dust every time you woke up.

Perhaps it’s the recollection of that memory that dulls your earlier spike of fear, or maybe the cocktail had finally taken effect. You turn around and down the rest of it, then get up and dust off your clothes. What could he do to you now anyway? Your heart was already broken.

You take your time in reaching him, fiddling idly with the little umbrella you had kept, and eye the dancing demons in trepidation; you never know when one would take a tumble sideways and straight onto an innocent passerby. When you do reach Lucifer, he exits the club without a word. You follow him, breathing in the cold rough air of Devildom as the music becomes muffled.

You thought he might create a portal home or fly there, but instead, he starts walking, manoeuvring around a bunch of handsy couples pressed against walls, and towards the House of Lamentation. You hasten, catching up to him just as he turns the corner into a broad alley. He had shrugged off his cape, making to pull his arms free when you halt him, shaking your head. “There’s no need.”

He stares at you for a moment, steps slowing minutely, before shrugging it back on. You know he’s angry, there’s a slight flush to his cheeks, a subtle tenseness in his jaw that tells you all you might want to know. You don’t care though. He could be angry all he wanted. You weren’t hurt, had a grand total of one drink, and were having a good time. There was no need for him to ruffle his feathers so much about it.

Soon, you turn another corner onto the main road and the Devildom moon appears in your sight. You sigh, remembering how you had hoped to kiss Lucifer under it a week ago. And then you had confessed, and your fantasies had been slapped into inexistence. 

“What were you thinking?” he grounds out suddenly. His voice scrapes on its way out, deeper, angrier. “You could have been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t,” you reply instantly.

“You could have been!” Lucifer halts, spinning to meet blazing eyes with you. “There were all kinds of predators in that club: bloodsuckers, incubi, soul snatchers; everyone stronger than you. What were you fucking thinking?”

“I wasn’t, alright!” you say, staring up into his fiery dual-toned eyes. “I wanted out of that goddamn house of yours and I got a chance, so I fucking took it! And I wasn’t hurt; nobody wanted anything to do with me. I’m fine, no thanks to you.”

Lucifer sucks in a deep exhale, looking down at you. The moon rises up behind, just as big and beautiful as him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing this?” you say, “Why are you doing this? You don’t care remember. You’re not supposed to care about me. Or don’t you remember that now? I wasn’t enough for you, so why are you here, Lucifer, why did you even bother coming? You could have just—”

“BECAUSE I DO CARE!” he yells. “I care more than anyone else in that fucking club did. I care more than you know. When I am not supposed to. Loving you, caring for you, it will bring nothing but pain to us both. I can’t do it. We—”

“—can’t be together,” you finish, feeling the breeze touch the pain gathered in your eyes. “I know that...I’ve heard that before.”

You start walking again, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. 

“Please just—” Lucifer clears his throat, his steps heavy behind you in the grieving night. He catches hold of your arm, halting you but doesn’t make you turn. “Please don’t put yourself in dangerous situations. I can’t have you being hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Lucifer.” You stare down at the touch of his gloved hand, so familiar yet so foreign now. “Nobody can hurt me as much as you did.”

[historia-vitae-magistras]

This is a little different from your usual content. But you have so much niche information that just I love to hear about. Do you have any podcast recommendations?

WHOO okay so I'm doing my nonfiction podcast recs and leaving out my horror or audio dramas but without further ado:

It's been out of production for years, but Caustic Soda is probably my favourite of all time. It's a small Canadian production of tons and tons of episodes on everything from shark attacks to murder to warfare to bugs and anthropology. It's so fucking funny and pretty well-researched as time goes on. Honestly, I was so young listening to this that it formed part of the lens through which I view the world.

Stuff You Missed in History Class: Often corny, wee bit lame, occasionally hilarious, always solid; this one is probably the one that has taught me the most. It's been on the air forever now, and it's really fucking great. They have also used sources that I actually dug out and made public for the first time and I'm quite proud of that. Its the favourite sweater of podcasts.

Time to Eat the Dogs is about the history of science and exploration. I highly recommend it if you like any of those things. I really like the host's interview style; all the guests are academics and authors. It's very conversational and feels like having a lovely sit-down with good friends, but those friends have Ph. Ds.

Casting Lots: Two really, really funny Brits discuss survival cannibalism across time and space. This podcast informed me that a story i heard as a fireside tale was based on true events. It somehow manages to mention Canada in every other episode and then some. I love the first three seasons in particular. They have truly done some incredible work in the course of their series and pulled from some primary sources that surprised even me, an actual archivist. They're shockingly respectful for how funny they are and how disturbing the content is and really take into consideration things like culture, empire, sex and racism as they discuss cannibalism, and it's just. I love it so much, truly.

Big Old Boats: It's not technically a podcast, but I've never once in my life actually watched the video as he discusses various maritime disasters, and I don't think I've ever missed anything by doing so. This is an absolute must-listen if you enjoy maritime history, missing ships, ghost ships, or just anything weird related to a boat. Archival work I did is actually mentioned in a couple of episodes!

Not What You Thought You Knew: Another podcast I really love that was, unfortunately, a very short run but academics and actual historians debunking popular historical myths. I am very, very fond of the episodes on The Night Witches in particular.

The Midnight Library: Last but not least my favourite fucking podcast currently running. It's a nonfiction podcast framed as a fictional witch/librarian in her cursed library telling (mostly) true stories around a particular theme, human vice, or any number of stories. And the way it's framed is so fucking great. Like they're talking about real history, witchcraft and folklore in so many of these, but you get little glimpses of world-building that have honestly started to bleed into the way I write. Even the ads are for fake magical businesses like 'the League of Lady Grave Diggers, the Broom and Fang pub. The library assistant/bouncer is a werewolf. The Witch's on-again and off-again boyfriend is a spring-heel jack. It's just so fucking clever a way to frame a nonfiction podcast in a spooky atmosphere while being historical, terrifying and funny in turns.

Anywho, if you listen to any of them let me know! And sorry if that went overboard!

[shadowbriar]

Druig - Delirium

Pairing : Druig x Reader (she/her) Word Count : 4.3k Warning : Medications. Hallucination. Angst. Let me know if I miss anything. Synopsis : He is her favourite worst nightmare, dressed as her knight in shining armour at night before fading as the sun rises. Notes : Inspired by Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine. I recommend listening to it while reading. Please let me know if any part of this fic is offensive. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

There it is again. The sense of familiarity, comfort she couldn’t find elsewhere, warmth that fills her heart full like no other. It was not because of the peaceful night nor was it because of the cup of hot chocolate in her hand. It was not because of the heat from the fireside. Certainly not from the shrieking sound the fan was making. It was not from the ticking of the clock by the table. It was not from any of them.

She stares at him with heart eyes. He was resting his chin to his palm, elbow posted on the sofa. It was as if she was gazing into a mirror. He reflects the admiration, the same intensity of affection and love she tries to show him. They were smiling. Basking into the beautiful sight of each other’s lovesick expression.

But her heart was heavy. She could feel the bitter truth that is slowly seeping in. A cold raging storm with no chance of mercy, one that would pierce through her skin and leave marks she’d never be able to heal. No matter how hard her head tries to turn deaf from all the warnings in the back of her mind, she knows that this too will end soon.

“You’re kinda cute,” She comments.

The boy laughs, “Kinda?”

She only nods. She places the mug to the table, now running her hand to his hair while the other rests on top of his arm. She watches as each strand escapes her gentle grasp. The way they seem to fall into place like puzzle pieces, each contributing to the beauty of the bigger picture— him.

“I..” She whispers, her tone shaking from intense emotions “I love you.”

He smiles. The kind of smile you see on people who are deeply in love. The kind of smile you give to someone you’d lie your life on the line for. The kind of smile she could never get from anyone else, one he never showed to anyone else.

He took her hand that was running through his hair and kissed her palm. He places it to his cheek, closing his eyes as if he wanted to melt into her touch. She could sense that he wanted to stay too. To live in this moment forever. She’s seen that look on his face one too many times, hear his reluctant sigh for one too many times too. But in the end, he would always be the one strongest of them two. To be the one to get up from the sofa first.

“I love you,” He says as he stares into her eyes “I love you beyond your imagination.”

“I know.”

That apologetic look now clouds his face. The very expression she hates most to see from him. It has become her constant reminder that this was all just a dream. A recurring dream that haunts her night, daunting her days as she tries to find the underlying answers. In a minute or two now she would wake up and find herself alone in her apartment, clutching into her blankets as she tries to fill in the void in her chest with its meaningless warmth. The void where he’s supposed to fill in.

“Can’t I just stay here?” She pleaded even though she knew what his answer would be. She’s heard it a million times now “I don’t want to leave.”

The boy didn’t answer. Instead, he pulls her for a close embrace, resting her head to his chest. She could smell his perfume, feel the steady beating of his heart, and painfully hear the shuddering sigh he let go. He doesn’t want her to leave either.

“You know where to find me,” He cuddles her tighter, afraid that she would look up and see the tears welling on his eyes “I’ll always be here.”

—-

“Are you okay?”

She blinks as her friend reaches for her hand, bursting her bubble of thought. It took her a couple seconds to process her surroundings. Lord knows just how long she was out of touch. She couldn’t recall the last thing her friend was saying. Her mind was busy trying to cling onto the crumbles of last night’s dream that is slowly slipping out of her grasp, erasing the details of her blissful moment with him.

“Yeah, sorry,” She says with a tight smile “You were saying?”

Her friend sighs, eyebrows pinched on a worried expression, “Are you sure you’re alright? Is it about that dream again?”

Her shoulder tenses. She knew just how ridiculous she looked in her friend’s eyes. To be so bothered by a dream, a silly dream about a boy so perfect yet she couldn’t really recognise who. She knew that no one would understand the distress it brought her. She knew that no one would understand how happy she was in that dream, only to wake up feeling empty and hollow. She knew that no one would understand how tortured she was inside.

Back when she first had those dreams, she didn’t know how else she could find out about him but to ask around. She’d asked her friends, even her family, if they ever knew him. A boy with dark brown hair, clearest blue eyes, and the most beautiful smile. She’s tried all the possible approaches to find the least bit of information about him but it was to no avail. No one knew him. Not even a name.

“Are you taking your medications?” Her friend asks softly “Are you still going to therapy?”

Medications. Therapy. The two things that are just as pointless as her effort in finding him. None of it works. Not even after she got bigger and bigger doses than the previous. Her sleep was always peaceful yet her mind was troubled. There was no way out. No escape from this maze.

“Yeah, I do.” She nods, lying “I’m seeing my therapist again next week.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She smiles, looking away from her friend.

She knew that she was losing it. That the line of reality and fantasy has blurred ever since he came to her dreams. He was just a piece of her illusion. A vision of a perfect life where she shared it with him, a life where she is his and he is hers, a life where she knew his name.

You know where to find me..

—-

His hand was holding hers while the other was on the steering wheel, driving her home under the heavy rain. The night was cold but it never bothers her. Not when his warm smile and gentle strokes are here. The world could freeze to death and she would still find herself blissfully in love.

“Could you stop the car?”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“I want to feel the rain.”

He turns to her with a growing grin before parking the car to the side of the road. Her giddy squeals erupted as she opened the car door, running out and feeling the rain drops on her skin. She was soaked in no time, showered under the rain that seems to be falling even harder with each of her laughter. Her shoes are now full of water but she couldn’t care less. She was happy.

He joins her not long after, scooping her by the waist and turning her around. They were dancing under the rain to a silent song that only the two of them could listen to. The whole world was theirs. No other pair of eyes to judge, no other mouth to question if she was sane, no other disapproving look of others. Just them two and the rain.

She clings her arms to his neck. Her vision was blurry from the water drops on her lashes but her attention was fixated on him. The way water drips from the tip of his nose, the crinkles around his eyes as he smiles, and the flush of redness on his cheeks. Beautiful would be an understatement for the sight she’s seeing right now.

“I love you!” She yells with a big smile.

“I know!” He yells back “I love you too!”

She pulls him for a kiss. A desperate, hungry one as she tries to eliminate any possible space between them. He was warm, the only source of heat in this cold night. He was her sun, her light, be it a dream or reality. She knew that she would always gravitate towards him, orbiting around him like a satellite.

The happiness he’s brought to her has always been so intoxicating. It always came like a tidal wave, washing over her with delightful electricity. Her skin burns in glory whenever they touch. Heart full and content and it was because of this pleasant hypnotic moment that she always forgot about the one thing troubling her mind— his name.

“I love you so much.” He breathes out “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

—-

“Do you still have that dream?”

She looks up to her therapist with blank eyes. The question feels like a buzzing sound in her ears. She knew what he was asking, one of the template questions he always asks, and she couldn’t care less about it. Her mind is once again stuck in a loop, playing the bits of dream that slowly dissipates to thin air.

She could still feel the raindrop on her skin, the heat of his body, the way his lips taste as they kiss under the rain. She could feel the damp feeling of her socks. How her clothes were sticking to her skin uncomfortably. She could recall the way his eyes twinkle under the road light. He was beautiful. A sight she could never erase yet unable to engrave to her memory at the same time.

“No,” She lies “I don’t dream about him anymore.”

Her therapist nods, making notes to his book, “And are the medications working well for you?”

I wouldn’t know, I never take it. “Yes.”

“Good,” He says again “I’ll write you the same medications then since it’s worked best so far.”

She turns her eyes out of the window, trying to distract her mind. She could see cars passing by, people walking and the way the leaves move from the wind. Everything seems to be so normal. So dull compared to the life she lives in her dreams. Everything is amplified there, brighter and much more astonishing than her real life. If only she could live there forever.

“Can I ask something?” She says, still looking out.

“Go on.”

“How would one know when they’re going mad?”

Her therapist’s brows furrow, “Why?”

“Just a thought.” She says with a shrug, now looking back at him “What differs a mad person’s mind than a sane one? Do they have a different world in their head?”

“Is there something you wanted to tell me about?”

She bites her inner cheek. Frustrated at the questions thrown back at her. She wanted answers. She wanted to know that she wasn’t going insane. That it was normal for someone to feel lost and empty the way that she’s feeling. That it was normal for someone to crave the touch of someone she knew nothing about. That it was normal for someone to be chasing the dream that is haunting her for the worst.

“No,” She shakes her head “Like I said, just a thought.”

Her therapist nods once again, dismissing her question. She let out a sigh, unsure if she was relieved of his apathetic gesture or if she should be offended that her own therapist gave no regards about her questions. She bites on her nail. A little part of her heart was looking forward to tonight, to feel his pleasant touch and hear his delightful laughter, but she knew that one of these days she’d succumb completely to insanity.

A price she wasn’t sure is too high to pay for.

—-

She stares at his bare back with a smile. He was still sleeping, an arm placed around her waist securely. His light snoring sounds like a beautiful lullaby that would lull her to sleep. Her finger lightly traces his exposed skin, joining the dots of his moles that seem to be a beautiful constellation of its own.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. She was mesmerised to say the least. Everything about him is just so enchanting. Like she was bewitched body and soul, having no power to fight his stirring charms. Never has she ever felt such intense emotions for someone, be it in dreams or reality.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Her smile widens as he starts to wake up, “Hello, you.”

“Hello, my lady,” He says lazily, still with closed eyes but with a growing grin to his face “You’re beautiful.”

“You haven’t even opened your eyes.”

“I don’t need to. I know that you are, you’re always beautiful.”

She let out a chuckle. Now inching closer to him, planting a small kiss to the tip of his nose that made his smile even wider. She studies his face, noticing all the beauty marks and features of his face. She knew that she’d stared at him one too many times already but it feels like the first time everytime. Feeling the same deep admiration and awe every time. He was the definition of perfection itself.

“Open your eyes,” She whispers “Let me see them.”

He did as he was told. They were so close now that their breath fans each other’s face, tickling each other as they rub their noses. His forehead now rests on hers. Her hand finds its way to his hair while he is pulling her body closer to him. Their legs were entangled together, locking each other in place.

“I love you,” He says.

She nods, smiling. He’s told her those three words for a millionth time now yet it still gives her the same butterflies as if it was the first time. She could never tire of hearing it. How melodious it sounds whenever he utters it, be it in a whisper or a shout. Those words will always be the anchor to her world.

“I love you,” He says again, giving a peck to her left cheek “I love you,” A peck to her right cheek “I love you,” A peck to her forehead “I love you,” A peck to her nose “I love you,” And a kiss to her lips.

Her heart nearly explodes. He is everything to her. The answer to all her questions, the angel to all her nightmares, the cure to all her torments. This boy is everything and more. She wishes that she could tell him. She wishes that she could tell him just how much he means to her. Perhaps then he would be willing to stay, to come out of her dreams and be in her life at last. But it was just too high of a price. To risk everything by cutting a straight line on their blurred lines. It was lovely to be laying here with him between comfort and chaos, and for now it was enough.

“I love you,” She whispers back “I love you beyond words.”

He was still smiling, now drawing circles on her back with his thumb. She feels safe in his embrace. Nothing could harm her now, no troubles would be in her mind if he’s here. He is her lifebuoy, her light in the end of the tunnel. Everything is perfect, just like he is.

But that glimmer in his eyes soon dims down, as does his smile. That apologetic look clouds his eyes once more and she knows that her time is running up. That this comfort is once again taken away from her grasp too soon.

“Please,” She begs, closing her eyes “A little longer.”

Tears were starting to form. She knew that she could only take so much of this beating. That her heart was growing weary, mind aching from all the torture. It is only a matter of time now before she completely goes mental and the only thing she fears of that outcome is if he wouldn’t be there anymore.

“We have to go.” He says softly, voice creaking from the reluctance.

She opens her eyes, staring into him that is now fighting to not let the tears fall too.

“I love you,” He whispers “You know that, don’t you?”

She nods with a weak smile.

He kisses her once more. She could feel the heartbreak in his lips. How the bitterness seemed to be poisoning them yet they couldn’t stop sucking it in. They need this, no matter how broken they would be in the end. They would do it a thousand times more even if they have to glue the shattered pieces of themselves with their bare hands.

Now he was driving her on a route that felt familiar but she couldn’t recognise still. She knew that he was taking the long way home, trying to stall time as much as he could. One of his hands is interlocking hers, giving it squeezes of assurance every now and then yet it seemed to be losing its touch tonight. The troubles in her heart seem to amplify the moment she peels herself off of the bedsheets. Tonight wouldn’t end as their previous nights, she could feel it.

“Could you stop the car?”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“I just—” She pauses, losing her words “Please, stop the car.”

It feels like a bitter déjà vu. The car stopped on the side of the road, light illuminating them from outside, but the comfort couldn’t be further away. Before, it was filled with warmth, golden, like gazing into the first light of the sun in the morning, but now it feels distant, like a dark cloud is slowly pooling above their heads, ready to strike them with thunder.

She looks down to their hands. He was still holding her. His eyes glued on her, she could feel it without looking up. He must have that worried look on his face, how his brows would furrow and lips formed into a light frown. It pains her to know that she’s causing them this much turmoil.

“I love you,” She whispers with pain in her tone “But I’m fading.”

She could see his jaw tenses. Like the rug has finally been yanked off of his feet. He looked like he had anticipated this but was still unnerved nonetheless. He holds her hand a little tighter as if fearing that she would let go. He turned his position, fully facing her now with that pleading eyes but still remained quiet.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” She asks silently.

The boy bites his tongue.

It was an unfamiliar vile feeling. She’s never gone down this path, always going with the flow the dream wants to carry them that night, but tonight was different. She was slipping away. Her fortress was crumbling and though she wouldn’t mind sacrificing sanity for him, she knew that happy ending wasn’t on their stars.

“I love you,” He chokes out “So much.”

“I know, I know.”

He pulls her close, resting their foreheads together. His eyes were closed but she couldn’t find it in her to do the same, wanting to take in everything about him before she lost him completely. She would miss the way his nose would brush into hers, the way his chest vibrates every time he laughs, and the way his eyes would radiate so much love that she swears could fix her broken bones.

“It’s not real,” She whispers in defeat “You don’t exist.”

He opens his eyes, staring back at her as if he has so much to say but unable to let it escape his lips.

He cups her cheeks, cradling her gently and pulls her close, grazing her heart with every touch of their lips. His fingertips feel cold, burning her skin and tainting it with invisible marks. The salty taste of tears began to pollute their kiss as she couldn’t hold them any longer. He still kisses her slowly, gently savouring their last moment whilst silently praying that time could freeze itself and let them live here instead.

“Druig..”

It was as if he was stupefied. She opens her eyes, blinking to let the sudden call of his name sink in. His body froze, colour draining from his face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Like a wire was finally plugged in, the missing jigsaw falling into pieces. She knew everything now, understood everything but one.

He licks his lower lip, a habit she’s come to understand that he does when he is nervous. The boy, Druig, now looks away. He pulled away and created some distance between them. Now her heart was filled with anger and disappointment. As if she’s finally catching him red handed, busting him in such a crime she could never forgive him for.

“Druig,” She calls again, this time with a firmer tone “Why?”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Druig says, his eyes brimming with tears “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

“About what?”

He froze once more. She could see the guilt washing over him like a sticky muck. He was crying. Gone was the bright and radiant Druig, corrupted by shame and sorrow he couldn’t conceal from her. He was broken. Perhaps much more shattered than she was. The burden crushing him down was much greater than her.

Perhaps it’s true what those wise men said. With great power comes great responsibility. Great sacrifices one could never be able to pay for yet are still taken from them.

“You weren’t supposed to remember,” He croaks “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen for so long.”

His eyes were starting to glow. A foreign form of fear crept into her, as if she understood where it would lead them but hardly recognised it. She places her hands to his cheeks in instinct, trying to cancel whatever it is he was ready to do. She can’t lose him. Not like this.

“Druig, please,” She begs “Look at me.”

He remains still, cold as stone.

She rests her forehead on his, begging, “Darling, please, give us just a minute.”

The glow on his eyes slowly dims down, returning the blue colour of his irises. He stares at her with a pained look. Like whatever he was planning to do hurts him physically. She could see the ache he’s trying so hard to ignore. He was always the strongest one out of them two, always the one with the stronger moral compass, but it never meant that it hurt him any less.

“I have to do this,” Druig chokes out, tears staining his cheeks.

“I know, my Love, I know.” She replies “But just give us a minute, yeah? Let me remember you for the last time.”

Druig reluctantly nods. He pulls away a little, studying her features as if he couldn’t draw her from memory. He’s lived on this planet for thousands of years, met countless people, seen millions of faces but none could ever be as significant as her. No one could ever hold half the beauty she has, hold a smidge of magnetism she has. No one could ever be as much of a weakness for him like her.

She runs her fingers to his hair, combing it gently and trying to record the feeling of each strand escaping her grasp. A sorrowful smile now decorating her face. One he likes least of her but still finds it beautiful nonetheless. It was all the both of them could really hold onto in this moment, beauty.

“I love you, Druig.” She whispers, her lips tugging into a melancholy smile that would be the death of him tonight “I love you so much that I pity you.”

He closes his eyes, trying to melt into her touch.

“I might forget all of this, but you.. You have to live with it for the rest of your time.” She cries as she holds him tenderly “My poor boy.”

Druig’s tears fall even harder. His body was trembling, trying to bottle his emotions that have certainly leaked out now. He hates how she understands him so well. He hates how she understood his pain, how it feels like she could feel the torture he’s been in eversince he erased her memory the first time. He wished that he could just take all of their pain away, make him be the only one to succumb into the ironic trope of star crossed lovers they seem to be fated in.

“I never wanted this for you.” Druig sobs “I’m sorry.”

“I know, I understand.”

He lets out a pained chuckle. She was supposed to be screaming at him, punching him and hurting him from all the pain he’s brought into her life. He couldn’t decide if the deep devotion she has for him was a blessing or a curse. It hurts him either way yet he wouldn’t wish for any other outcome.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Druig calls, taking the hand that was combing his hair to his chest “Know that my heart beats for you, always.”

She nods, smiling, “I know.”

Druig lets out a shuddering sigh. He squared his shoulders, getting ready to do what has been demanded of him a long time ago. He flashes her a warm smile, the most genuine he could to try and help ease her worry. But she was never worried about herself, not about this. All she could think about is the loneliness that would engulf him once more. Navigating his way on this planet alone without her to hold his hand.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

She nods weakly, smiling.

He leans in with a smile, kissing her gently and tenderly. His thumb caresses her cheeks, trying to erase the tears that are still flowing down. He hoped that his touch would provide her the same comfort and love as the one she’s giving to him. He hoped that his strokes could distract her mind from the bitterness of they’re upcoming ending. He hoped that his kiss would be a good enough gesture to close their chapter.

And on that morning, she wakes up without a void in her heart for the very first time.