#I took one look at this and decided I'd rather die than shade this

[little-pondhead]

I wanted to try the color wheel challenge :)

[late-to-the-fandom]

Hallow's End Ember Court is fancy dress. There's some confusion about who's who. There's no prizes for guessing, but I'd still love to know if you do! Rated G for Happy Hallow's End Drabble. Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags

"I confess, I am rather shocked," said the Maw Walker, her expressionless face belying her words. "I didn't expect Revendreth to embrace Hallow's End so readily."

"Oh, we Venthyr welcome any excuse for celebration!" exclaimed Duke Theotar. The candlelight emanating from the enormous carved pumpkins behind the Duke threw the shadow of his exuberant gesticulation across the uneven ground. "And any excuse for fancy dress!"

The "Mad" Duke fixed his comically large hat more securely atop his carefully arranged hair, and the Maw Walker smiled fondly. The expression cracked the perfect up-turned lines of painted black stitches that extended past her lips.

Renathal, watching, took another sip of tea. He was still deciding how he felt about her whole ensemble.

Costume courts were a beloved tradition in Revendreth, but they were usually an excuse to comport oneself as a dashing hero or specimen of exquisite beauty. Impressions of the Master were always popular, as a prime example of both*; although, Renathal noticed, with a critical glance around the courtyard, none of the Ember Court guests had been so bold. But apart from this obvious missing fixture, today's court contained the usual assortment of regally attired royalty and armored warriors customary to any Revendreth fancy dress event.

None whatsoever had chosen a disguise as unsettling as the Maw Walker's, with its eerily realistic stitches crisscrossing the planes of her exposed flesh. And it was causing a visible stir among the guests, many of whom stared openly at her whenever they passed Theotar's shaded tea corner.

"We seem to have quite a bit of lore in common," commented the Maw Walker, joining Renathal in surveying the rest of the courtyard over the rim of her undrunk tea. "I believe I recognise many of the costumes. Including yours."

She ran an appraising eye over the Dark Prince's uncharacteristic black clothes. Renathal, momentarily distracted, swept his cape out with a melodramatic flourish that made Maw Walker laugh behind her cup.

"So, you are familiar with the story?" said Renathal smugly.

"Yes, it was very popular at one time. Someone even set it to music, I think, although I never saw it performed. And .... I confess, I can't remember your character's name."

"Really? But he is the protagonist!" declared Renathal in mock offense. "The brilliant musician who, in spite of his disfigurement, wins the heart of the realm's most talented ingenue, and spends his mortal life together with her creating the music of the night!"

It was a well-practiced little soliloquy. Renathal had worn this costume - or a more elaborate version - many times before. Behind him, the Duke had the good grace to applaud appreciatively.

The Maw Walker blinked.

"Are you sure that's how it ends?" she asked.

"Quite sure," sniffed Renathal. "The story is a personal favourite of mine. I have read it many times." He sipped thoughtfully at his tea before venturing, "Why do you ask?"

"I've just .... never heard it told that way."

"How have you heard it?"

"Well..." The Maw Walker wet her lips in hesitation. "I thought .... the masked man - whoever you are - kidnapped the girl. And then she was rescued by her true love and left the masked man to die in a fire."

There was a gasp and a splash of liquid from behind them as Theotar fumbled the milk jug.

"Surely not!" he cried, his pinched face even more ashen than usual.

Renathal, too, looked shocked.

"I am afraid you must be mistaken," he said firmly, adjusting his white half-mask to sit better on his face. "He would never have done such a thing, I am certain. He was the hero of the story, after all."

"Perhaps I'm thinking of a different tale, then," the Maw Walker conceded. She glanced quickly around at the Duke for a change of topic. "But I'm sure I know who you are. I would recognise the top hat anywhere."

"Well, I should hope, he is quite the well-known figure," said Theotar, dabbing spilled milk from his bare chest with a white handkerchief. "The wise counselor who, through his clear wit and good sense, helped the little lost girl Alex find her way back to her own realm." He deposited the handkerchief onto Gubbins' tray and smiled. "After treating her to a delicious tea, of course."

The Maw Walker tilted her head, brow now furrowed. An unusual show of confusion on her typically blank face.

"I don't think that's right either," she said, shaking her head. "The girl's name wasn't Alex. And your character wasn't wise, he was -"

Renathal interrupted before the Maw Walker could finish.

"If it is a story, then how can it be right or wrong?" 

"Because it didn't happen that way!"

"It didn't happen at all," Renathal countered. "They are stories. How can one depiction of a fantasy be more or less right than another?"

The Maw Walker opened her mouth to argue further, paused, then closed it abruptly. Her eyes glazed over in thought, and she brought her teacup to her lips vaguely. Renathal watched her fight back a grimace at the taste.

"I suppose you have a point," the Maw Walker said finally. She gave Renathal a deep nod as if conceding victory, her loose and oddly coloured hair swinging forward across her face.

"Of course!" said Theotar, approaching with the sugar bowl. "Why, there are as many interpretations of stories as there are souls who tell them! And you must tell us your versions in full, sometime."

The Maw Walker smiled - that warm, affectionate smile she saved for the 'Mad' Duke - and dutifully bent her knees so the smaller Venthyr could stir sugar into her cup.

"I think your versions sound better, to be honest."

Privately, Renathal agreed, but thought it bad manners to say so out loud. Instead, he indicated the Maw Walker's ragged dress with a wave of his hand.

"But who are you supposed to be? I am afraid I do not recognise your ..." He searched for an appropriate word. "Attire."

"Oh, let me guess!" said Theotar excitedly. He thrust the sugar bowl at the waiting Gubbins, then stepped back to take in the full effect of the Maw Walker's disguise. "You are ... a Maldraxxus abomination?"

"What? No!" The Maw Walker tugged self-consciously at her patch-work dress. "I am -" She paused for a moment, then continued more firmly. "I am the brave and intelligent heroine of an old, beloved story, whose advice to her realm's leader was immediately heard and obeyed, and through which she managed to stop her realm from invading several others."

Her little speech did not have quite the effortless delivery of Renathal's, but Theotar still made a point of clapping politely.

"Oh, well done!"

The Maw Walker accepted his praise with a self-mocking curtsey. 

"And will your hair return to normal once court is over, or is it ... red for the foreseeable future?" Renathal inquired as casually as he could manage.

"It's just an illusion," assured the Maw Walker. "Unless you'd like me to keep it like this longer?"

She caught Renathal's eye and gave a small wink. 

"I think I prefer its natural shade," murmured Renathal. He hadn't meant the words to come out so low, not while anyone else was present, but he did enjoy watching the Maw Walker eyes darken. 

"Ah, just look at us," said Theotar fondly, stepping between his two dear friends and cutting neatly through the developing tension. "Three exceptional heroes! Exquisite examples of lives well lived and happily ended!"

The Maw Walker smiled wistfully. "On Hallow's End, at least."

* Shout out to my mate @shipping-through-eternity for inspiring this particular little head canon and letting me use it!

Read Part 12: Keys for All Occasions: Cicatrix | Visit the Masterpost

[home-sweet-hive]

Little Shop of Wonders

by Ash Rose Red

TW/CW: None

Summary:

While they were being chased down by GUN agents, Eclipse took notice of a small shop nearby and decided to take refuge there. But after things die down and they get the chance to spend some time with the shop's owner, Eclipse begins to suspect that he's not quite as he seems...

Note: This story uses they/them pronouns for Eclipse!

Another day, another chase ensues...

Those were Eclipse's thoughts as they ran through the thick bunches of trees, of which there were multitudes in this forest that was unknown to them. All they knew was that GUN was after them like always, and they had to keep themself, and their young Dark Arms, safe, so they kept running, holding their four younglings close to their chest. But the gap between them and the ambush of GUN soldiers chasing them was closing in, Eclipse had to act fast if they wanted to live to see another day.

Suddenly, just out of the corner of their eye, Eclipse spotted a small shop nearby, a place where they could take shelter, if only just for a little while. It was a risky move, as the owner of the shop could easily be affiliated with GUN, or with that blue hedgehog and their pesky Freedom Fighter friends, but it was a risk that Eclipse simply had to take, for the sake of themself, and more importantly, for the sake of their Dark Arms.

Just as the GUN soldiers were closing in on them, Eclipse teleported themself and the Dark Arms away from the soldiers' grasps, reappearing just outside the shop, which they quickly rushed into, slamming the door behind them as the small bell over the door rang.

Taking deep breaths in order to calm their nerves, Eclipse kept their hold on the Dark Arms, but loosened the grip of their arms wrapped around the four young alien children. Looking up from the four, Eclipse saw the keeper of this little shop begin to close the blinds on each of the windows of the building. the blinds were dark, and thick, blocking out the vast majority of the light from outdoors.

"What brings you here, friend? I mean, from the looks of it, I'd imagine a rather intense game of hide and seek, but it would be rude of me to assume without asking you." The shopkeeper asked calmly.

Eclipse stood there, staring at the shopkeeper, not quite sure of what they should say in response. Suddenly, a surge of panic rose within them, and they activated the powers of one of their Dark Arms; Cyzer, which granted them what looked to be an extra eye appearing on their right hand, but what was actually a laser shooter, ready to be fired at any moment.

"M-my name is Eclipse the Darkling, and I'm taking you hostage! I-I command you to allow me and my Dark Arms to stay here in this shop for as long as we need! If you do not comply with these orders, I-I will show you no mercy!!" They sputtered, attempting to sound threatening to the shopkeeper, but all he did in response was give a kind chuckle.

"You're taking me hostage? Well, that's a first for me!" He remarked with a smile.

Eclipse's cheeks glowed a vibrant shade of green from embarrassment over the failed attempt of intimidation, but they sighed, relieved that regardless of any fright, the shopkeeper wasn't being combative.

"Since we have time to kill, why don't I make us some tea?" The shopkeeper asked, to which Eclipse reluctantly agreed, "Hot or Iced?"

"... Hot... I-It was rather cold out there..." Eclipse answered.

"I'd imagine!" The shopkeeper said with a chuckle. Eclipse didn't quite understand why, but that man's chuckle seemed to warm them up far more than the shop itself and it's heaters did. Something about it seemed so... comforting. In a weird way, it reminded them of home, "Do you want to pick out a flavor yourself, or should I surprise you?" The shopkeeper asked.

"Uh... W-w-well... What're you having?" Eclipse inquired, unsure of themself.

"Oh, just my usual lemon ginger." The shopkeeper answered casually.

"I'll have that, then!" Eclipse said with unexpected enthusiasm. The shopkeeper nodded and grabbed two mugs, and two lemon ginger tea bags.

Eclipse, not being sure of what they should do while they waited for their tea, began to look around the shop itself, as it had many things that caught their eye. From shiny crystals, to home decor, to many books about all sorts of subjects, to even action figures of various characters from various series, none of which Eclipse knew, it was all incredibly fascinating to them, they saw it as almost like a summary of this planet's culture in general.

"Eclipse, the tea is ready. It'll be here, ready for whenever you wish to partake in it." The shopkeeper notified. Eclipse immediately rushed over to the table that the shopkeeper was sitting at, with the Dark Arms following closely behind. As they sat down, they noticed that the wooden table had some very intricate carvings on its surface, forming a resemblance to that of a map. The shopkeeper noticed that Eclipse seemed to be intrigued by the table, and explained that the table is typically used for when customers would come by and play a game apparently called "Dungeons and Dragons", but the shopkeeper doesn't mind using it for other reasons, "It is a table, after all."

"If I may ask... What is this "Dungeons and Dragons"?" Eclipse asked as they took a sip of their tea. The shopkeeper explained it as a "role-playing game" where you and some friends assume the roles of fantasy creatures, and are lead on an epic quest designed by a "Dungeon Master". He added that most decisions in the game are made by rolling dice, which he gave Eclipse a set of that had a blue and black marble design on each of them, with gold numbers on each side of each die.

"You may keep those, if you wish." He said to them. Eclipse accepted, but lamented the fact that they had no one to play with.

"Well, except for the Dark Arms, I suppose. But they're probably too young to play anyway..."

"Oh... my apologies, I wasn't aware of your circumstances." The shopkeeper said, frowning.

"No no, I... I'll keep them anyway... I like how they look." Eclipse mumbled, grasping the bag of dice.

"Speaking of those "Dark Arms" of yours, what are they, exactly, if you don't mind me asking? I've never seen anything quite like them before!" The shopkeeper asked, shifting focus.

The question seemed to make Eclipse rather excited, as they happily told the shopkeeper about how they had traveled out to Planet Wisp with some of their comrades some time ago, and how they had discovered the potential of the wisps which the planet was named after could have for them and their brethren. They then proceeded to explain in very particular detail about how they took a couple dozen wisp eggs home with them and experimented on them, in order to bring out the most of the potential they saw in them, hesitantly adding that their "Master" wasn't very fond of this, and believed that Eclipse was just wasting time. Lastly, they sadly explained how they had to hurriedly escape to this planet from some sort of disaster, which resulted in Eclipse not being as careful as they could have when landing their spaceship, their landing was rather rough, and Eclipse admitted through teary eyes that most of the "Dark Arms" didn't survive it. But four had, those four going on to be given the names of "Blurk", "Cyzer", "Cregal", and "Rhygenta". Eclipse said to the shopkeeper that those four were like family to them, and that they'd be willing to do anything to make sure they can safely prosper, even being willing to lay down their life for them if it came to that point.

It was a tale that brought tears to the shopkeepers eyes, especially the last part.

"You seem to be... quite dedicated to these Dark Arms of yours..." The shopkeeper observed, wiping away his tears.

"Of course... they need me to be..." Eclipse responded, starting to tear up as well.

There was a small bit of silence between the two of them, until the shopkeeper decided to ask another question.

"Are you and your Dark Arms related to the Black Arms at all? The names are rather similar..."

"I..." Eclipse hesitated to answer, as they had the slightest fear that the shopkeeper would react harshly if they answered honestly. But then they dismissed the thought. For whatever reason, they felt that the shopkeeper wouldn't mind, "Yes, we are Black Arms. Some even say that I am... "The Black Arms biology, perfected"... the Ultimate Alien. A replacement for the traitorous Ultimate Lifeform, Shadow the Hedgehog..." They explained.

"My...! Isn't that quite intriguing?" Eclipse was right, the shopkeeper didn't seem to care. No matter what happened, he seemed to be in no fear of any sort... How odd, especially for a mobian man...

That was when Eclipse realized... the shopkeeper looked a bit like Shadow. Not enough for Eclipse to suspect that it was Shadow in disguise, but just enough to be of note. He was a hedgehog, just like Shadow, and had dark colored fur, too. Though the shopkeeper's fur was more of a dark brown than Shadow's jet black. Eclipse noticed just then that the shopkeeper had some red highlights in his quills just like Shadow does. How odd..

"Do you mind if... I ask a question this time...?" Eclipse requested.

"Please do." The shopkeeper replied, the way he spoke... it was as if he knew what Eclipse was going to ask.

"You... A-are you a Black Arms... too...?" Eclipse asked, feeling so... idiotic? What if they're completely wrong?? What if their mind is just connecting dots that aren't there in its desperate attempt to escape the loneliness Eclipse feels?? What a stupid question! Why would-

The shopkeeper nodded.

Eclipse wasn't sure of how to react. The thought of there being more living Black Arms than just themself and Shadow excited them, but also brought with it so many questions, so many that it was overwhelming.

"My... It seems you have a lot of things you want to say... if only I could parse them out... my connection to the hivemind... my powers in general... they're not what they used to be..." The shopkeeper lamented.

"... What... What happened...? To make you... lose touch with your powers... to cause you to be stranded here...? I-If you had escaped GUN destroying the Second Black Comet like I had... you would have recognized me when I introduced myself, right? So what was it that brought you here?" Eclipse finally managed to say.

"... The funny thing in that is... I think you already know the story. Just... not how it ended." The shopkeeper answered, seeming saddned, "Or rather... were told a false ending..."

Eclipse stood there in silence for a moment, just processing what the shopkeeper said. It didn't make sense... until it did. It all came flooding in all at once, the realization that the shopkeeper that Eclipse was talking to, that Eclipse took "hostage", that Eclipse threatened, that had made Eclipse tea, that had taught Eclipse how to play Dungeons and Dragons, that had made Eclipse feel like they had been teleported back home, aboard the Comet once again... That shopkeeper... he was....

"...B...Black Doom???"

"... A severely weakened Black Doom with basically none of his powers and stuck in the form of a mobian... But yes... the one and only..."

Eclipse couldn't help but run up and give Black Doom a big hug. They never thought they'd ever get the chance to. They had been told that Black Doom had died in his fight against the traitorous Shadow, because that's what their creator, Black Death, believed had happened. It was what everyone had believed, that the leader they had had for several millennia was just... dead, just like that, and that they needed to carry on without him. Hell, Black Doom's supposed demise was the very reason Eclipse was created, for Black Death believed that Shadow had to be stopped before they could cause yet another catastrophe.

Despite all that... there he was, the Black Doom, trapped in that mobian body, and willingly put within Eclipse's embrace.

"This... I.... I can't... Y-You... How did you...?" Eclipse tried repeatedly to ask questions, but they kept overlapping one another and getting all scrambled up in their head and in their speech. Doom simply caressed the top of Eclipse's head, gently quieting them down.

"You see... I myself thought I had died in that fight... but I awoke... alive and well, but lacking much of my power... I used the last bit of power I had to assume this mobian form, and from there, faded into their society..."

"Oh dear..." Eclipse muttered, "You must be feeling so lonely without any of your people near..."

"I will admit that I have felt that way... I've felt terribly homesick at times, as well... That is why I decided to rent this building out and create this store. It's a mixture of everything I have found on this planet, including things that remind me of home in an odd way..." Doom responded, there being the slightest bit of whimsy to his voice.

"I definitely understand how you feel, I felt like I was back home from the moment I ran in here, if I'm honest... Although, that could just be because of your presence." Eclipse said, calmly breaking themself free from Doom's embrace, "Though I must ask you something then, sire."

"Hmm? And what is that question you desire to ask?"

"When... and how, really, did you learn about that uh... Dungeons and Dragons game?"

"It's a bit of a funny story, truly... It had happened a good while ago, but one day one of my regular customers came in, but rather than coming in to buy anything like they usually would, they simply came up to the counter and began to talk to me..." Doom began to explain to Eclipse.

"You know, Mr. Shopkeeper, this kinda spot would be a great place to run a DnD game in!" The customer remarked.

"I... I beg your pardon?" Doom asked, confused.

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you run a emporium like this and don't know what DnD is!" The customer insisted, to which Doom confirmed that he had no idea what they were talking about, "Dungeons and Dragons? Does that ring a bell?"

"I'm afraid not."

"What?! Well you're in luck, Mr. Shopkeeper! I happened to bring along my DnD books, so I can teach ya right here right now, if ya'd like!"

"As long as you don't keep me from tending to any other customers, I wouldn't mind learning something new~!"

"... And from there, they taught me the basics, even held a one-on-one campaign with me after the shop closed. A few weeks later they and some friends of theirs came by and donated this here table."

"They sound rather nice! I hope I come across them in my travels!" Eclipse said, which confused Doom.

"Travels? Where are you going, exactly?" He inquired.

"I don't know, but I do at least need to go out and gather food for the Dark Arms and I." Eclipse responded.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, sweet child! There's a grocery shop nearby here which can provide such things to you, and I'm always willing to brew a cup of tea for any of you." Doom argued.

"Are you... Are you offering for us to... stay here indefinitely??" Eclipse questioned, surprised.

"Were you not expecting me to?? You're a Black Arms!! It's my job to provide for you!!" Doom replied, just as surprised.

"W-Well, you've made this whole mobian life for yourself, and here I am, still on the run from GUN-" Doom pulled Eclipse into an embrace once again.

"This life means nothing to me... What matters in the end is my true identity. I am Black Doom, leader of the Black Arms... And I will do everything I can to fulfill that role to the fullest extent." He promised.

"... Understood, sire..." Eclipse mumbled as they reciprocated the embrace, a content smile showing on their face as it became wet with tears.

"Now... Shall I make us some more tea?" Doom offered, to which Eclipse nodded.

[chatsu]

˗ˋ there you are

genre — angst, fluff (?) warning — mentions of death, grief words — 2,124

notes — it is 3:07 am, and i don't want to come up with a synopsis so, i shan't <3 this is my first writing post,, so uhh, please give me criticism !

violet chrysanthemum — unbearable pain at the thought of losing a loved one white chrysanthemum — reserved for sympathy and remembrance lyra — a constellation, which you can read more about here !

hugging his knees on the pavement, oikawa tooru couldn't help but overhear the faint chitter of loved ones greeting each other, serving as a reminder to why he was lamenting in the first place. a combination of heavy sobs and pleas of a miracle, he had grown used to, yet he still found the letters engraved on the cold stone in front of him almost foreign.

the anniversary of your death was fast approaching. caught in the fast lane of change, tooru has experienced almost every stage of grief. almost.

he remembers a shade of reddish brown framing your corpse. a metallic odour accompanied by tears burning every inch of his face, creating a sickly feeling in the back of his throat, which only multiplied as he released his frustration in the form of bargains.

' if only's ' and ' what if's ' his brittle voice had echoed — temporary truces, in which he begged and pleaded with every god and goddess known to the universe, in an attempt to negotiate his way out of this harsh reality.

from denial to anger, and from bargaining which soon melted into his current state of stark numbness in your absence. the past seemed more alive than the present.

stationed on the 4th, hazy reminders of a once living past seemed to obstruct his path of progression leading to the 5th and final phase of this grieving process that must inevitably follow. acceptance.

tooru is a competitive man. on the court, he is capable of adapting to new environments, examining their playing style, studying each and every player in a matter of seconds and having the ability to draw out their strengths — thus, blending into the team as if he was apart of the original line up.

yet, surrounded by this atmosphere of sorrow and anguish, he stuck out like a sore thumb. even after scrutinizing how others had dealt with this profound feeling of misery, their so called 'methods' were in vain, and he continued to suffer.

his fear of being second best, he now had no chance of overcoming. because as if in a race, tooru was exasperated, struggling to catch up with everyone else.

even the stars are lonely, but at least there were a multitude to keep company, and he couldn't help but envy them. your family, friends, hanamaki, matsukawa, hajime, even takeru had accepted the fact that you were gone, as they smiled fondly, memory sweet with you.

tooru could not remember the last time he smiled — a genuine one, that is. one that isn't plastered on when prompted with the constant ' how are you holding up? '. one that creeps up to his eyes to resemble a crescent moon. one with familiarity and love. one because of you.

the setting sun bathed everything in shades of lavender, painting the flowers propped beside your grave a colour he had wished they were. telling a tale of many consecutive days spent in this location, they bloomed brightly and never wilted away for they were regularly changed with a newer, hand picked bouquet. today, the flowers hadn't the ability to mock him, for today was different.

earlier, under what he thought were unfortunate circumstances, he was left stricken by the lack of purple petals accessible. left with no other choice, he let his fingers fumble along those coloured as snow instead. however, opting for these flowers proved to be difficult, as he realised he was breaking his routine.

because the shadow of the past still hung over, his fear of being second best soon morphed into a fear of change. a fear of everything changing. again, while he still had not adjusted to his scars wounded by time. it was nearing a year since tragedy struck. a year since that decisive moment of change.

but due to a sudden yet short lived act of bravery, tooru chose to cease sewing the seeds of habit, and as of right now, he found himself laying these flowers in their accustomed seat atop the gleaming stone. stems slightly compressed due to his secure grip, but petals remaining untouched. although both were chrysanthemums, the previous batches had been violet, and the current were white, simple as.

it is only when his nephew appears in his peripheral, he is snapped out of his trance, plastering a soft smile to veil his conflicting thoughts. hardly a word is spoken between them as takeru gently places an article of clothing on his lap, then is soon walking off.

leaving tooru with more questions than answers, his eyes shift downwards and widen at the sight of his old aoba johsai uniform folded ever so neatly. at an agonizingly slow pace, his slender fingers start to inspect every nook and cranny of the oversized — on you, not him — jersey. he holds it gingerly for this specific piece of fabric is a memory preserved.

and like a bridge to the past, tooru finds himself traversing along the nostalgic path, illuminated by memories time seemed to have dimmed.

as if the past is burned into his psyche, he still remembers the day you ignored him, well at least tried to.

though your actions were deemed fruitless, as you soon dropped your facade when he eventually caught up to you while you were walking home. mentally cursing yourself for your futile attempts at avoiding him, you had confessed that you were not in fact jealous, but curious as to why there were so many girls wearing his exact jersey. there was an attempt to stifle a laugh, yet one look at the stubborn pout on your face was all it took for tooru to burst out laughing.

"what is so funny?" you had tilted your head with a slight scowl painting your features.

impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for a response, but from his hunched figure and the smack! when he brought his hand to his knee was confirmation that his fit of laughter wasn't going to die out any time soon.

"oikawa" you had puffed, and the use of his last name was enough to get his attention, as he flicked an invisible tear off his face.

dramatically, with his hand latched onto his hip to form his signature stance, his free arm stretched out and squeezed your shoulders.

"they're not mine" he chuckled with a shrug and a smile — smug, yet genuine.

"listen tooru, i'm not dumb. you're the team captain right? the number 1's on the back practically mocked me!"

"may i ask, how many were there?"

"you mean how many were wearing your uniform? hmm i don't know, maybe every single girl i saw cheering?"

"yeah, and do you really think i'd have that many jerseys to give away? iwa-chan would be kicking my ass if i was constantly getting new jerseys!"

moments of silence passed and you figured that he was right, but your stubborn demeanour wasn't going to admit defeat that easily.

"i suppose that it would cost a lot of money, which you don't have, seeing as i was the one who had to pay for lunch yesterday. plus, you uhh, still seem as small as you were in first year so i assume you wouldn't need a change in size"

feigning a gasp, he clutched his heart and claimed that it was his turn to ignore you. snickering in response, he cupped your face and peppered it with kisses until he spoke up again.

"you know, ordering uniforms are pretty common for fangirls. buuut, you don't have to spend a single dime 'cause there's only one i'd like you to wear"

digging into his bag whilst motioning you to lift your arms up, he pulled out his aoba johsai jersey. he quickly put it on you and stood back, admiring how the cloth adorned you — no, how you adorned the cloth. this went on for a while, him staring at you in pure adoration, until his face lit up and he went back to fumbling in his bag.

"here! to fully establish that this is for you and you only, a limited edition, aoba johsai uniform, signed by the oikawa tooru" he beamed, placing the top of a permanent marker in between his teeth and biting the lid off.

his left hand found purchase on your waist as the other was in the midst of signing the front and back of your shirt with his signature. tooru being, well, tooru, he began to embellish the entire fabric in little hearts with ' tooru + y/n 's in large lettering, until he was interrupted by your arms outstretching and pulling him in for a hug. deciding against sulking about not getting to finish his oh so lovely drawings, he instead chose to reciprocate and nuzzle into your neck, basking in your warmth.

from then on, it was an essential garment to your outfits. yes, you were reluctant as the bright turquoise colour certainly did not match with everything, but ' you can pull off anything ' is what tooru had claimed. some fashion advice coming from the mf who wore plaid shorts <3

unlike the rest of your clothes in the closet collecting dust, it remained hung up on the handle, ready for use. from matches to study dates which later transitioned into sleepovers, he always complimented your attire in different ways as if it was your first time wearing it.

braiding his chocolate coloured locks, he lay on top of you, the back of his head on your stomach as he made an effort to mirror the rhythm of your breathing with every rise and fall of your chest.

after a lack of commentary, you noticed that he was not staring off into space, but rather the glow in the dark stars you had stuck up on your ceiling. deciding to take advantage, you extended your arm to switch off the lamp adjacent your bed, and while the light faded, the stars gathered overhead.

"oh - hurry up tooru, look! it's a shooting star, make a wish" you gushed, having one eye shut while the other awaited his reaction.

"come on now, you know i didn't bring my glasses with me today, hmph"

"no no, how does that saying go — you don't have to be able to see it to believe it! you're the one always saying those cliche quotes all the time"

".. angel, i'm sorry but this is all just a yellow blur to me. i really can't see anything"

huffing at his habitual use of endearment, you wrapped your hand around his wrist and straightened out his index finger to guide it towards the ' shooting star ' that had not moved from the centre of your ceiling.

"better?"

"much"

letting out a satisfied hum, you both closed your eyes, your conversation, but not your minds as they wished upon the faithful glints of gold which magnified the tranquility of it all.

you eased your grip around his wrist but he took this as an opportunity to interlock his fingers with yours. and with the stars winking from a pitch black sky, your wishes combined, and the soft squeeze of your hands, it was a silent promise that you would always be with each other.

perhaps it was the flower's slight change in hue which resulted in this caprice of fate, because for the first time, he finds himself recalling positive memories rather than remnants of your death.

and for the first time, tooru accepts. the unknown feeling envelops him, yet it does so with open arms, a welcoming smile, and no judgement.

the way he allows his tears dye the turquoise clothing a darker shade, he recognizes that he is no longer under the false pretence that all is well.

he need not question why the corners of his lips subliminally upturn, because as as he clutches this jersey, it's almost as if he is clutching you once more.

while the last stars still fleck the sky, he thanks those lucky stars, for it is you there with him, and he finds solace in your presence.

but this time, tooru isn't afraid to let go.

by no means does he intend to let go of you, no — never. but to let go of the affliction, pain, and instead have regard for the past in preparation for the future. in preparation for change.

and with his damp high school uniform, his smile that is heartful, and the lyra hanging heavy in the eastern sky, they all begin to coalesce into his former self.

the tooru who is not a genius. the tooru who underestimates his own strength, the tooru who overcomes adversity. the tooru, whom you are in love with.

and with the knowledge, and most importantly, acceptance, that you are no longer here with him physically,

oikawa tooru knows that wherever he goes, there you are.

[bluethisisforyou]

Klance, 22 🌹 i'd lOVE THAT 😍

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Lance didn’t feel himself slipping. In fact, he had toned down the longing glances and the smiles. At least, he thought he had. Looking in the mirror one morning, he’d decided to limit himself to two glances a day, maybe three if he’d thought he deserved it.

“That’s a stupid plan.” Pidge said, half under some machine. “Lance, not to be mean, but that’s grade A idiotic.”

“He’s right, you know?” Hunk sat off to the right at the table, fiddling with some new alien technology that glowed a terrifying shade of red. “Why don’t you, I don’t know, say something?”

“Ok, first off, please be careful with whatever you’re doing because that looks ominous. Second, there is no way in hell I’m saying anything. That’s how he finds out.”

“So wait for him to notice or die first.” Pidge rolled out from under. “What a way to live.”

“I mean, it’s all about the power of wishful thinking.”

“Lance, I hate to be the one to do this,” Hunk looked up, “but we’re in the middle of war. In space. We might all have a time limit, here.” He set the tech aside. The thrumming noise it was giving off left them in complete silence. “If anything, you might really-”

“Ok, thanks, Hunk, for that.” Lance rubbed the inside of his arm and the quiet enveloped them all. After a pinch to his arm, Lance looked off into the distance at the high castle walls. “I just, and then what? Say I say something. Then I die…or he dies…I mean,” he smiled sadly, “then what’s the point?”

“It might be a chance for you to be happy.” Pidge moved their head so they made eye contact with Lance. “I think that’s what this life is for, to be happy. You won’t know unless you try and to die not knowing is something you’re gonna regret if there’s an afterlife.” Lance’s eyes widened. “You know, if ghosts exist in space.”

In space.

Lance nodded at each of his friends. Wordless, he turned tail and didn’t think about where he was.

Instead, he thought about where he was not.

He wasn’t in the backyard where the grass usually got long because he’d rather help his little sister look for ladybugs rather than kick them out of their home. He wasn’t five minutes from the ocean, the salty breezes acting as good night kisses in all their secondary nature. He wasn’t where the sky faded and the lights got strung up for parties and the food was better than anything in the world. He stuck his hands in his pockets and continued walking.

He noticed the streaks on the castle floor, thinking back to when he would race the lights in the convenience store and how his older sister would have to scoop him up for their mother.

He laughed, gently, as the tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes.

It just-

“Hey.” The voice was soft as Lance looked up. “Lance.” Keith stood there, just leaving his room.

Lance gently bit his tongue before speaking. “Hi.” There was pause. “Where are you-”

“What are you-”

They both stopped, looked at one another- really looked.

“Hey, are you okay?” Keith managed before Lance said something that would’ve given everything away. “You can tell me, if you want to.” Keith offered a smile smile before it faded. “But only if you’re comfortable.”

“I, uh, just feeling. Feeling homesick.” Lance supplied a smile. “Y’know, the usual.”

“Listen, I was going to go up to the observation deck to clear my head.” Keith looked off to the side.

“Oh, yeah, don’t let me-”

“Come with me?” Keith looked back, a slight eyebrow raised.

“Keep you,” Lance finished.

“What do you say?”

“Sounds,” Lance thought about everything, “sounds good.”

“Great.” Keith smiled and Lance took another quiet look at Keith.

That was allowed glance number two.

Lance walked alongside Keith quietly until they got there. He let all the memories continue to pile like blocks, even when they sat down on the steps to see the sky a bruised purple. He let his family’s voices run around in his head, telling him to do simple chores, to help do this, that, and to come back home.

Determined to get it all out of his head, he started to look over at Keith, then stopped. Looking ahead at the stars, he went, “So, what’s going on with you? Why are you clearing your head?”

“Well, firstly I’m the black paladin now, so that’s a lot.” Keith looked over at Lance slightly. “It’s not bad, since you kind of helped me out, you know?” He hugged his knees to chest. “It’s a lot, having to be the head. I mean, I know how Shiro dealt with it but I’m just…a boy from the desert.”

Lance didn’t dare look over.

“Yeah, well, I’m just a boy from Cuba, Keith. We’re all capable of leading but the black lion chose you. You should be honored.” Lance finally allowed himself a glance to see Keith looking right at him. “I mean, you were pretty good at the Garrison until you got kicked out.”

“God, how long ago was that,” Keith muttered, ending in a smile. “I remember everything, the fights, the assholes, and Shiro. Man, that place sucked.” He paused as he looked out at the stars, slowly smiled, and then looked back at Lance. “I remember you used to sneak glances at me back then, too.”

Lance felt his heart skip three consecutive beats. “What?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Keith let go of his legs and extended them.

All the voices in Lance’s head vanished because they’d know never know what to say.

“What-what do you mean?” Lance let himself take another good look. “Just how…do I look at you?”

“Like I’m the only one in the room.” Keith played with his hands on his lap. “Like you’d be heartbroken if I left. Like when I left.” He looked over, offering a small smile. Lance kept his eyes on Keith, watching his fresh new rule vanish into thin air. “I don’t, I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“Why you look at me like that.” He let his hands separate slightly. “I know why I look at you like that but that’s-”

“You what?”

“You know you’ve been looking less lately?” Keith placed his hands on the floor. “That’s when I’ve been looking more. I just, uh, I’m not wrong, am I?” Doubt crossed his eyes as he looked back at Lance. “Am I?”

Lance took a quiet deep breath. “You’re not.” He smiled a small smile. Then he lost it. “What makes it so hard to understand why I look at you the way I do?” He sat still, waiting, glancing out of the corner of his eye.

Keith slightly moved his jaw around with one hand. He dropped it and let it rest on his leg. “Well, I was alone for most of my life. It got kind of rough until all of you came along and we found Shiro. I just, I just didn’t spend a lot of time with other people because it was getting easier to keep my distance. In fact, getting kicked out was what my body had been wanting.

“It’s strange, feeling that kind of craving unconsciously. But, it’s amazing when that want surfaces. Like, I suppose, how it feels for the both of us. But,” he hesitated, “I don’t feel like I’m worth it-”

“Neither do I.”

“Lance,” Keith looked over at him, ready to argue.

Lance felt Pidge’s words from earlier finally sink in.

“But you make me happy, underneath it all. And, well, I’d like to be happy and it’d all be better together, wouldn’t it?” Lance finally smiled a full smile. “We won’t know what that’s like if we both deny it. We won’t know until we try, right?” He felt the butterflies in his stomach stir and quiet all at once. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, the world almost lost to the stars outside. “You’re right.”

Taking another deep breath, Lance stood up and walked over to where Keith was. He held out his hand. “What do you say? Want to try? Together?”

“Sounds good.” Keith took it and Lance pulled him up. They stood there together, close. Hearing each other’s breathing that close, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance and pulled him close. He squeezed tight then began to slip away.

Lance caught him. “Hey, you’re good.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know what to do.” Keith smoothed out his hands on Lance’s back.

“No, you’re…you’re good.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “You feel good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lance tightened his hold. “You feel like home.”

Keith responded by holding on a little tighter. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

After they broke off of one another, Lance took a step back to get a good look at Keith. It was as though starlight had managed to make its way into the palace.

“What is it?” Keith cocked his head.

“I hope one day you understand why I look at you the way I do.” Lance said gently.

“If only you do the same for me.” Keith smiled, honeyed and quiet.

“I can try.” Lance breathed and it was the best he could do. He smiled in return as Keith echoed his words.

It was the best they could do, for now.

Walking off side by side, they both took numerous glances at one another.

Smiling, they knew this space was theirs.

It was just a matter of growing into it.

Trying to, anyways and it was enough.

Always would be.