#also take a wild guess who i sent the ask to in the dream (yes it was prophet)

[capn-twitchery]

i had a dream last night that i reached building the railway and the start of it was mr fires inviting the PC to a masquerade ball via a very flirtatious letter. i was posting i was excited for it, i sent asks like "damn i get why you like mr fires now" and everyone was laughing like "just wait"

but the ball was a coverup bc while fires is dancing with you he was talking railway strategy the entire time. you spend so much money on your outfit and he just shows up in the same robe. it was a trend to draw your character super dolled up next to 0 effort mr fires

for some reason not going to the ball was devastating to me and i decided i had a vendetta against mr fires. i woke up genuinely convinced it was real

[greyskywrites]

Brother of the Moon V.

As a Hunter

5.8k | kofi | ao3 | tag

Margaret

The world drops out from beneath Margaret’s feet. For a moment she can’t speak, can’t move. It takes effort to remember how to breathe. “Father is dead?” she asks, her voice strange to her own ears. “How?” He was aging, yes, but not old and he was never particularly frail. She would have half expected him to draw sword against the Angel of Death.

“His heart, near as the Sun surgeons can guess,” Harry says. “He was fine one moment and down the next, as though an elf shot him.”

“Worked himself up into one of his rages,” Marcus says. “Suppose his heart finally burst.”

Margaret winces.

“When we met him on our way home—since we weren’t expecting him to be traveling,” Harry says, with a note of reproach, “he tells us this wild story that you’ve run off with some monk to marry a lord in the north and that this monk detained you in Hawbend when Father sent one of his men after you.”

Margaret gives a cold and sharp laugh, her head beginning to clear and come to focus. She thrusts out her arm, dragging the sleeve up so they can see the thin white scars. “No one detained me,” she says. “I would not go back. But for Brother Eadwin, I would be dead.”

Marcus pulls back from the scars, or else the look on Margaret’s face. Harry just gazes at her, his arms folded, looking terribly like their father. Margaret can’t quite reckon him dead, half of her expects this to be a trick, or else a dream. How could his heart simply stop? That sort of thing only happened to other men.

“Is that the only reason you agreed to this?” Harry asks. “Because if it were, then home need not be so frightful, now.”

“I do not intend to grow old and rot away to dust in Grenacre,” Margaret says, with more force than she imagined she had in her. Harry does not frighten her the way their father did. “If I leave this place now, in this way, no man will ever ask for my hand again. They’ll say to themselves, well, the fickle bitch has already run back home once.”

Harry’s mouth twitches to hear her speak like that. Any coarse language she knows, of course, she learned from her brothers.

“Is this what you’ve come all this way to do?” Margaret asks, summoning up her anger. “Come all this way to fulfill our father’s wish to keep me locked up like a songbird he can’t even abide? Have you looked at this house, at these lands? What possible better match could you arrange for me than this one?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Harry asks. “Why did Wulfric Seward even know your name?”

“Oh, he didn’t,” Margaret says, airy as she circles past the window. “That is another thing for which I can thank Brother Eadwin. Seems he’s looked after me more competently than you have.” That will fester under Harry’s skin for years.

“Just who are you, that you bring my sister here for Lord Wulfric?” Harry asks, looking to Eadwin still at the door.

“I am Lord Wulfric’s spiritual counselor,” Eadwin says in a cool voice. “And his liaison between the estate and the abbey.”

“And for what reason do you find yourself lurking here now, listening in on family business?”

“Lady Margaret asked me to come,” Eadwin says. “Lest someone should try to force her will, as they did in Hawbend.”

Margaret can see her brother stewing on that, and let him stew. She’s so angry she feels she could spit fire. She was just beginning to find her way here, and now Harry’s come to complicate everything. “I suppose since you’re here,” she says, cold, “you can stay until Lord Wulfric returns. I’m sure he’ll be interested to meet you.” He will want to calculate what sort of sons she will bear.

Margaret stands with her back to the window, arms folded and her shadow looming dark on the floor. Of all the blasted indignities, to have her brothers come trying to collect her home now. Oh, she could tell them just what sort of woman she is, if they want to ruin her reputation anyway. “He’ll also be interested to talk to you about my dowry,” Margaret says, “since Father didn’t see fit to send it with me. The terms he set were terrible, of course, I should think you’ll have to improve upon them.”

Harry’s lip twitches again as he moves to face her. “As I find myself in the position of being Lord Beckett now, I don’t see why I shouldn’t call you back to Grenacre anyway, if the terms are so poorly set as to be disgraceful.”

“I will make your life a hell,” Margaret replies evenly. This was always the way of their arguments as children: the only way for Margaret to win was for her stubbornness to run out Harry’s patience.

“My lady,” Eadwin says, “Lord Wulfric has returned.”

Margaret gives Harry a thin smile, and pulls herself away from the window. “I should greet my lord,” she says, in the same high false voice she always used when they made her play princess in their games. She thinks: is this not what you wanted? Is this not what you and Father always wanted me to be? She turns. “Brother Eadwin, will you accompany me?”

Eadwin nods, and opens the door for her.

The wind is roaring through the trees when they go out on the steps, and it tugs fiercely at Margaret’s skirts and shawl. Wulfric seems to be in good humor as he swings out of the saddle and hands the reins off to a stableman. Margaret greets him with a smile. “Was it a good ride, my lord?”

“Yes,” he says, and kisses her cheek. Margaret manages not to shrink away. She thinks that her knees ache. Wulfric looks at her face. “You seem pale, has something happened in my absence?”

“My brothers Henry and Marcus are here,” Margaret says. “They tell me—” Her voice catches in her throat a moment, the reality still impossible. “They tell me our father has passed unexpectedly.”

“Ah, I am sorry to hear that,” Wulfric says, with no particular passion. “Is one of them Lord of Grenacre, now?”

“Yes, my lord, my brother Henry. Shall I introduce you to them?”

“Yes, I think I should meet my betrothed’s own kinfolk.” He looks past her. “Everything alright, Brother?”

“Yes, my lord.” Eadwin is a shadow, a watchful crow at Wulfric’s shoulder.

Wulfric makes it clear to Aethelric that he will be unwelcome. Aethelric smiles serenely and says he’s off to find the hearth girl. Margaret feels almost bad for him, but not quite.

Harry and Marcus are perfectly cordial, as is Wulfric. It reminds Margaret of dogs meeting for the first time, judging each other by eye and scent, deciding whether or not to growl. Margaret hangs back by the window. Eadwin stands at the opposite side, arms folded, watching in stony silence. She wonders how often people—how often Wulfric forgets he’s there.

She wonders if she’s the only one in the room that could never forget.

Wulfric insists that Harry and Marcus must stay for a few days, see the estate that their sister will soon be mistress of. Margaret wishes he wouldn’t—she doesn’t know how she can get a moment alone with Eadwin if she has two of her own brothers lurking about. If it were Felix, she could abide it. Felix would understand, would keep her secrets. Only Felix thought she ought to be allowed to be a knight, sometimes.

“My lord,” Margaret says, when there is a lull in the conversation.

“Yes?”

“I should like to go to the church, to pray for my father. If my absence will not be an inconvenience.”

“No, no, of course you must go,” Wulfric says with a nod. “Brother Eadwin, if you will take the lady.”

Harry and Marcus, who have never been much given for prayers, blessedly do not volunteer to come along.

Eadwin glances at her as they step back out into the wind. “That was a clever little trick.”

“It was either that or grow fangs and claws and begin to tear my brothers apart.” Margaret lets out a breath. “I don’t know whether to be relieved that my father is gone, or furious at the rotten luck of my brothers being here now.”

“Do you really wish to go to the church?”

“I think if I were found not to, it would make Wulfric suspicious.” She glances at him. “At least I can speak to you at the church.”

Eadwin nods. “That you can.”

#.

Eadwin

Eadwin keeps to the back of the sanctuary as Margaret makes an offering for her father’s safe passage to Paradise. “I would rather he be there than a ghost to haunt me,” she says. They sit out in the entry hall to to talk, so as not to bother any other worshipers. They are visible to anyone passing by, they keep properly distant.

Every boy that comes through on some chore or another slows his pace just a little to look at Margaret, but blessedly she is too caught up in her thoughts to notice, or Eadwin would have to give more than a stern look to chase them off.

The slimmest edge of the paper is visible in Margaret’s bodice, and for a moment Eadwin imagines writing the poetry right onto her skin, drawing a pen against flesh to write an adoration. He imagines the ink smearing between them, marking them both. Some tangible evidence, if only that wouldn’t be so dangerous.

He imagines her hunting again, those clear gray eyes training an arrow through the heart of a stag. Riding back to camp with it draped over the back of her horse.

“I just can’t believe he’s dead,” Margaret murmurs. “I feel almost as though I killed him. Part of me wishes I had.” She looks at him. “Should I atone for that?”

“A man who drives his own child to wish for death rather than return to him is not a man who needs to be atoned to, my lady,” Eadwin says. “Not to my way of thinking.” He had never made any offerings for his father. Hadn’t even told his brothers here when he received the news.

Margaret looks at him, those gray eyes searching. “Your father, has he passed?”

Eadwin nods. “Some ten years ago, now. He drowned.” They had found his body in the black mud of the Penbreak, pale and swollen, after he had been missing for three days. Drowned because of the drink, they said, though that could not account for his broken bones. Osgar had been much better at making enemies than he had at making friends.

“Did you ever see him again after you left?”

Eadwin shakes his head. “I wouldn’t go anywhere near home while he lived. And because of my work here, I’ve not been back since.”

“What of your mother?”

“She still lives, so far as I know.” He wonders what she’s like, with Osgar a decade gone. In his memory his mother always snaps when she’s frightened, and she is very often frightened. She would be seventy-five. It is possible she still brews beer. Possible, also, that his sister Fortune has taken that over. News comes infrequently to him in Eagletop, but he thinks she has a second husband, after the first died of the same fever that took Prue, their youngest sister. He knows she has children, and that she was raising Prue’s daughter.

Margaret is fidgeting with her prayer beads, keeping her hands busy. He thinks of her anger at her brothers, and supposes they must not frighten her much. Easy enough to see the resemblance between them—he imagines Wulfric must be pleased to see the broad shoulders, straight backs, and in particular the self assurance with which the younger Henry Beckett carries himself. “How are you doing with the children, my lady?” he asks.

“Oh,” Margaret murmurs, “well enough, all things considered. Wulfwyn, the poor girl—I asked the nurse if Lady Anna’s dresses were still about, if Wulfwyn could be allowed to choose a few to keep as they were for when she grows, and the rest cut into new dresses for her. It seems a terrible waste to just put them away somewhere to be eaten by the moths.” She rubs the rose medal between her fingers, staring into the distance. “I think her father sees her as a plaything. So long as she pleases and amuses him, he’ll be good to her, and when her temper clashes with his then he says she gives him only grief. It will be hardest for her when he chooses a husband for her, I think. If she doesn’t learn to hold her temper, he will want her married sooner than later.”

“And Everard?”

Margaret sighs. “I won his heart by being kind about his little dog. He says Wulfric kicks her if she gets too near, so she hates and is afraid of him. I told him so long as she was well behaved, he could always bring her to sit by my fire. He told me he likes stories about knight—and I suspect he’d be better suited to writing them than acting them out. I said I would read to him this evening. And Mildred—well. Mildred is five.”

Eadwin nods. “You’ve become acquainted with Cheese, I take it?”

“I thought I hadn’t hear her right, at first,” Margaret says with a smile. “Why on earth did she name her doll that?”

“Because she is five, and it made her mother laugh.” He should have done more for Lady Anna, while she lived.

“My dolls were all named after knights and heroes and battle queens,” Margaret says. “My queens rescued my knights as often as the other way round.”

“She brings the doll to all her lessons,” Eadwin says. “I would say Cheese is one of my best students, but I am reliably informed by Mildred she is in fact very naughty and never says her prayers or practices her letters.”

Margaret laughs and rubs at her eye for a moment. “Heavenly Mother,” she whispers, “if it were just the children I wouldn’t have a fear in the world.”

Father Algar appears, having apparently been told that Lady Margaret is in the church. His eyes flick between them for a moment and he approaches. “My lady,” he says, “can I do anything for you while you’re here?”

Margaret smiles weakly. “No, Father, I only—my brothers came, to tell me our father has passed. It is enough comfort to be here.”

“May his road to Paradise be a soft one,” Father Algar says. “Would you like us to sing a mourning song for him?”

“They will hold his funeral in Grenacre, I should think,” Margaret says. “But thank you, Father. If you would say a prayer for him, that would be enough.”

Algar nods. “Of course, my lady.” To Eadwin he says, “Brother, I would like to speak to you after mass.”

“I will be ready, Father.” He wonders if he’s done something, or if some trouble has come up.

Margaret does not wish to hurry back, and they linger long enough for Marcus Beckett to make an appearance. “Wanted to make sure you hadn’t gotten lost,” he says, pausing to make a sign of prayer to the shrine of Saint Luce which stands in the entry hall. “Are you alright?”

“That’s a fool question to ask,” Margaret says, without any fire.

“I suppose so,” Marcus says.

“Where’s Harry?”

“With your husband-to-be, hashing out the details of your dowry.” Marcus grimaces. “They had no need of me, and if I had to spend another moment with that man giving me the same wretched smile our father always gave to guests I was going to carve it off his face. I don’t know how you can abide it.”

“I have been made to abide a great many things,” Margaret replies evenly. “Are you going to stay, then?”

“For a few days. Harry wants to go back to Grenacre for our father’s funeral, and then he’ll probably drag Felix and Theadora both here for your wedding. I brought you a horse, thought you might like to go for a ride.”

Margaret’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I suppose I can’t stop him.” She brushes out her skirts and stands with a sigh. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long, Brother.”

“It is no inconvenience, my lady,” he says, rising with her. “My duty is to see to the needs of all my lord’s household.”

The corner of Margaret’s mouth pulls up just a little. “That seems a great burden to carry indeed. Will you come to dinner?”

Eadwin nods. “Yes, my lady.”

He goes with them out through the churchyard, watches Margaret pull herself up into the saddle. She makes no complaint of the wind, which has died down only a little. “Where would you suggest, Brother?” she asks. “For a short ride?”

“Out along the fields,” he says, gesturing. “The hedgerows will guide you back, and there will be fewer tree limbs to fall and frighten your horses.”

Marcus thanks him and they set out, speaking between themselves and their words lost in the wind well before they reach Eadwin’s ears.

He catches one of the young brothers, tells him to inform Father Algar that he will not be at dinner, and returns to the castle.

If Aethelric did indeed find the hearth girl he’s done with her now, and being still unwelcome in the company of Lord Wulfric and the new Lord Henry he is sitting in the stables, drinking. Eadwin finds him only because he asks a servant.

“What do you want?” Aethelric grumbles. His mood is curdled, but there’s not yet straw in his hair so the day might yet be salvageable.

“You might allow yourself to be at least a little sober by dinner.” Eadwin takes the bottle from him, and Aethelric lets it go without much fight, which is a good sign.

Aethelric sighs, putting his head back against the wall of the stable. “What I don’t understand, Brother, is why you’re going to help Wulfric ruin another perfectly good woman.”

Eadwin sets the bottle aside, conscious of the work of the stable boys mucking out stalls. “I know you were always on good terms with Lady Anna.” Even though she scolded him more fiercely than anyone in the house, which was an equation Eadwin could never really make sense of. But then, he supposes, Aethelric has always been fond of pestering him as well, so perhaps it’s some perverseness in his nature. Wulfric doesn’t scold, he only bellows about what a worthless drunken layabout and whoremonger his younger brother is, and Heaven’s Queen be thanked that nothing has happened to Wulfric to leave Eagletop in Aethelric’s hands.

“I know she was my sister by law, but she was properly like a sister,” Aethelric says. “And every year in this rotten place she got a little smaller. And that woman—” Aethelric gestures vaguely outside, as if he believes Margaret to be lurking in the horseyard. “—that woman finds Wulfric repugnant. I can see it in her eyes.”

Perhaps the worst thing about Aethelric is that in spite of his habits, he’s always had a keen eye for people. If he weren’t so fond of the drink, he could make himself quite dangerous.

“And you,” Aethelric says, “you know it. And you know she ought to. And yet you still brought her here.”

“If that’s your measure of the situation, you could stand to be a little kinder to Lady Margaret.”

“Kinder?” Aethelric asks, his brows rising. He draws up one of his knees, slinging his elbow across it. “Kindness would be chasing her out of this place with a torch and a whip, before we let Eagletop rip the guts out of her. If you mean I should be sweeter to her, now that’ll just make her think she could survive here, and she won’t. Worse, it might give her ideas that are just a little too dangerous for me. No, better no man here be too sweet to her.” Aethelric’s head is beginning to list to one side, and he gives Eadwin that stupid smile again. “You could stand to be a little sweeter to me, Brother.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I have never once thought you were worth the trouble.”

Aethelric laughs. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that.” He fumbles upward for a grasp on the stable door and pulls himself up. “Lady Margaret, though—if she were promised to any other man in the world but my brother, she might almost be worth the trouble.” He cups his hands in the air, before his chest.

Eadwin smiles thinly. “Not every thought needs to be shared with your spiritual counsel, my lord.”

#.

Lady Margaret and her brother return to the castle shortly after the rain begins. They are only a little damp, and Margaret goes up to her chambers to put on fresh clothes. Marcus Beckett goes to mutter something to his lord brother, and Eadwin keeps by the fire while Wulfwyn does her stitching and Everard his reading. Mildred is under a table, playing with her dolls.

Yes, if it were only the children, Margaret need not fear anything, because all of the children have a little of Lady Anna’s mild temper in them. What has troubled Eadwin since Wulfric sent him out is the implication that Lady Anna was impious, which he never took her to be. She was perhaps not so ardent about her faith, but it was at her request that Eadwin has taught her children their prayers and stories, and at her will that the children have always been brought at least once a week to mass, even when their lady mother was ill, and after her death.

He wonders what excuse Wulfric will manufacture for his failure to produce the sons he wants if Margaret’s children resemble these ones, because he is certain of one thing: Wulfric will never place the blame upon himself.

“Brother Eadwin,” Wulfwyn says, clearly bored of her embroidery. “Do Rose churches do things much differently than Moon churches?”

He supposes she must have heard that Margaret grew up with the Roses. “Do you remember what the Order of the Moon says is the surest way to our Heavenly Queen?”

Wulfwyn senses that this has been turned into a lesson and gives him an appropriately annoyed frown. In an altogether unflattering impression of his own diction, she recites, “Union with the Queen of Heaven is achieved through the bypassing of the ego or self, which we only imagine separates us from Her.”

Eadwin smiles faintly. “Which means?”

She drops the impression. “We are all of us connected to the Mother, but sometimes we need help to know it, so we can hear Her will and try to understand Her mysteries.”

Eadwin nods. “The Order of the Rose doesn’t disagree, but they place a greater importance on the Queen’s Creation. They say it is their duty to care for all things that live, an echo of Her love. Through care for others and the cultivation of beauty, they honor the Queen of Heaven with their labors and gratitude.”

“Is that why she gave me Mother’s jewelry?”

“She gave you your mother’s jewelry because she felt it belonged to you,” Eadwin says. “But I think it was still an act of love.”

Wulfwyn falls quiet, perhaps troubled by the notion that a stranger could act lovingly to her. “Mildred ought to have something, don’t you think?” she asks. “But—she’s only five.”

“You can choose a few pieces to set aside for her, to give when she’s older,” Eadwin says.

“Will she even remember Mother?”

“Not as well as you do,” he says. “You will have to tell her stories.”

“Brother Eadwin,” Everard says, very clearly having not being doing any reading for the last few minutes. “Did you bring Lady Margaret here because she’s so kind?”

He thinks: I brought her here because I was tired. “I took that into consideration.”

Aethelric has returned from a lengthy period of isolation in his chambers. He’s not properly sober, but he is washed and combed and freshly dressed. He greets Margaret’s brothers politely enough, and Wulfric watches him like a master of hounds prepared to strike an unpredictable cur.

Margaret, when she appears, is dressed in sea blue. Wulfric has gifted her a new hairnet—one of the few things that can be made quickly, Eadwin supposes—and it glimmers in the firelight, freshwater pearls adorning each joining place. She looks, properly, like the lady of a house such as this. As in her father’s house, she carries herself well, with a straight posture and a lifted chin. Her smile comes a little easier here, though it has a hollowness to it. She speaks to her brothers, to Wulfric, and after a moment she comes over to the fire and Everard gives up all semblance of doing his reading.

Margaret sits beside Wulfwyn, looking at her embroidery. “You have a steady hand,” she says. “I always hated my embroidery lessons. I was too impatient.”

“I hate them too,” Wulfwyn confides. “I keep pricking myself with the needle.”

“You’re better at it than I ever was,” Margaret says, which might be flattery but it pleases Wulfwyn. Margaret gives Eadwin a small smile and gestures Wulfwyn’s embroidery. “These are daffodils, yes?”

Wulfwyn nods. “They grow all over, first thing in the spring. You missed them, though.”

“I shall be pleased to see them next spring,” Margaret says. She looks to Everard, who has his arms fully across the pages of the book. “What are you reading?”

She handles them well, Eadwin thinks. If only Wulfric placed any real value on how well she can speak with them, make them feel cared for. If only he valued the notion that his children felt cared for at all. He half listens as Everard tells her about the book, a collection of myths concerning the Queen of Heaven and her angels, their major variations according to place and religious order, and commentary from church scholars. He’s watching the lock of hair intentionally left loose on Margaret’s cheek, curled and gleaming.

“That seems quite a lot for your age,” Margaret says.

“Brother Eadwin is helping me.”

“I’m glad,” Margaret says, smiling.

The dinner itself is almost peaceable. Margaret sits at Wulfric’s side, Aethelric on the other and Eadwin just beyond. Lord Henry and Marcus take up the opposite side of the table, and the children sit wherever they will. There is talk of wedding preparations, of the funeral they will have in Grenacre. The point of tension comes when Henry asks if Margaret will come back for their father’s rites, and the answer is no. “He would have dragged me back by my hair and disgraced me before the entire realm,” she says. “I will pray for his soul here in Eagletop.”

“Flaming angels,” Aethelric almost shouts. “I wish I could have done that. Wulfric, you should have sent me off to marry some foreign woman when our father died.”

“For the love of the Blessed Mother and all Her saints be quiet,” Wulfric snaps.

Aethelric’s mood for humoring politeness has apparently run out. He leans around to speak directly to Margaret. “I turned up piss drunk and half dressed midway through the rites, I wouldn’t be surprised if the brothers still talk about it. Do they, Brother Eadwin?”

“When they are warning the younger ones about you, my lord,” Eadwin says, dry. It is mostly truth—Father Algar is very keen that none of the boys get too friendly with Aethelric.

Aethelric laughs. “Good. Someone ought to learn from my mistakes.” As things are cleared away, Eadwin excuses himself to leave. He will be expected at the church, to make ready for mass. Margaret asks her brothers if they will come, and they say they will. The night is clear and cold.

The church is lit, and mass is performed. Wulfric is in attendance once again, seated between Margaret and Henry. He has brought his children this time, either at Margaret’s request or to give a certain impression to her brothers. He does not linger to ask anything of Eadwin this time. He watches them leave, watches Margaret use her brother to put distance between herself and Wulfric.

As the sanctuary is tended to, he goes back to Father Algar’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to tell you I have handled the questions about the bloodstain on your clothes,” Father Algar says. “Since in your absence rumors were likely to run rampant.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That while you were away you saved the life of some poor soul who otherwise would have lost it. That is all they need to know.”

Eadwin nods. “Anything else?”

“I have asked Sir Laure and Sir Eva if they would consider staying for a time,” Father Algar says. “Until the wedding. I said there was a possibility that Lady Margaret may not want to go through with it—a possibility they seemed curiously prepared for,” he adds, giving Eadwin a pointed look.

“On what are you basing that assumption?” Eadwin asks, suspecting he knows the answer.

“On the grounds that I am going to ask you to persuade her not to.” Eadwin lets out a breath. “Father—”

“You’ve made this mess, Brother, I am asking you to do something to clean it up. It will be better for everyone if she does not go through with this.”

“Her brothers have already tried, she refuses to go back to Grenacre.”

“Then persuade her to a convent,” Father Algar says. “You shouldn’t have to do much to make it seem more appealing than remaining where she is.”

“I do not think she will accept that, Father.”

“And why not?”

Eadwin thinks for too long on how to answer. “Father, I do not believe she will go anywhere she cannot see me. I think that is the primary reason she has insisted on keeping this course.”

Father Algar closes his eyes with an expression that says he is employing a great deal of restraint in not reaching across the desk to throttle Eadwin. “Saints grant me patience,” he mutters.

“I will try,” Eadwin says. “I will say everything I can think to say, but I will not force her hand. I am afraid of what she would do if I tried.” And it will have to be done in the brief moments when he can speak to her alone, when she will not want to hear a word of their parting.

Father Algar lets out a low breath and he nods. “Then we shall have to pray that that is enough.”

#.

Margaret

She has kept the paper against her breast all day, even after her change of clothes. She has felt its folded edges softening against her skin, has thought of Eadwin’s hand penning it in the dark and caressing her in the sunlight. It has lent her strength and solace every time Wulfric has laid a hand on her shoulder or kissed her cheek. It has burned at the edges of her mind since she read the first few lines, and realized what it was.

Now she has sent away the maidservants, and there is only her in these chambers, and a candle, and this paper. She unfolds it carefully, her ear sharpened for any sound, though she has said she does not want to be disturbed until morning. Eadwin’s handwriting is plain and unadorned, but smooth. The black ink stretches in slim lines, like arms reaching up to Heaven and down to Paradise.

As a hunter my Queen comes riding, with hair of burning sunlight and eyes of silver dawn. Into the dark trees She comes a-riding to claim me for Her prize.

On stag’s hooves I fly from Her, not of fear but for the chase. Her hounds will rout me out, Her hands will hang my hide.

This crown of antlers is of Her make, I wore it not before, but as a hunter She comes riding and I the hart to fall.

My Queen will level Her arrow, the shaft runs straight and true, and for the chase I will leap, willingly, into Her view. My Queen will loose Her dart to fly and for Her, and Her alone, I will let it strike.

As a hunter my Queen will come to me and Her hands will cut me open and take out my arrow-struck heart.

Let Her drink my life’s blood, let Her eat my flesh, let it redden Her lips. Let Her suck the marrow from my bones and dress Herself in my skin, for I give my life to Her, to keep as She wills and in the belly of my Queen, I will be reborn.

And in the trees so dark and dim I will place the antlered crown upon my head and I will be again the prize When as a hunter my Queen comes a-riding.

Margaret lets out a breath, tracing the words with her fingertip. She bites her lip with a smile as she reads in the belly of my Queen, a twinge running through her. She reads it perhaps half a dozen times, committing as much of it as she can to memory, because she knows it will not be safe for her to keep this. The description of her hair and eyes is too specific, and she cannot believe that someone here would not recognize Eadwin’s hand.

She touches the paper to her lips, whispering, “For her, and her alone.”

#.

Eadwin

He meets her at the shrine the next morning. She has not brought the children with her.

Margaret is pouring water into the basin at the feet of the Mother when he arrives, and neither seeing nor hearing anyone about, she pulls the poem from her bodice. “It is beautiful,” she says, handing it to him. “I thought of it all night. But I wonder—if there is just one line you could add for me.”

He opens it to read the single line she has written in.

My Queen will level Her arrow, the shaft runs straight and true, with falcon feathers fletched

He considers it in silence for a moment, and looks up as he folds the paper into it already quite worn creases, taking her in. He doesn’t know what it means to her, but perhaps he doesn’t need to. Perhaps he only needs to know that it does mean something. “Yes, my lady, I can do that.”

[yamaguccitadashi]

I posted 1,673 times in 2022

That's 773 more posts than 2021!

23 posts created (1%)

1,650 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang

@myonepiece

@notonepiece

@rozcdust

@mimeen

I tagged 21 of my posts in 2022

#tokyo revengers - 7 posts

#one piece - 5 posts

#anime - 4 posts

#kokonoi hajime - 4 posts

#rindou haitani - 3 posts

#ran haitani - 3 posts

#portgas d ace - 2 posts

#akashi takeomi - 2 posts

#bonten - 2 posts

#spoilers - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 49 characters

#i cant wait for more volumes help im going to die

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Me: *calls mum* MUM THE TOKYO REVENGERS SEASON TWO TRAILER CAME OUT

Mum: oh good! When is it coming out?

Me: January, I sent you the link, you gotta watch and see my husband

Mum: another one?!

Me: common mum you know I have like 500 billion husbands

Mum:

12 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#4

Do I want to be called his 'good girl'? Yes.

Do I want to be called his 'whore'? Also yes.

16 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

#3

Playing Sims and my main Sim is dating Ran Haitani, went to prom together, he invited her to the nightclub at 8am, always trying to get her to ditch school to woohoo, yk it's pretty wild.

Her best friend is Rindou, and I checked social bunny and low and behold, Rindou tagged her in a flirty post and keeps messaging her in flirty posts and inviting her out, OML

I asked my housemate who she should date and he said "well there's enough room on the couch for 3" BOY WHAT

I guess my Sim just out here living all my dreams oml 😩😩😍😍

18 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#2

Can we just talk about how hot the characters from KHR... LIKE LOOK

😩😩😩😩😩

42 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Idea based on this video I found

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSdcn73ok/?k=1

‼️sort of manga spoilers, be careful ‼️

To Hell and Back for You

Y/N: so what, you're just gonna take his word over mine? That's it?

Mikey: Sanzu treats me like I'm somebody...

Y/N: And I don't?! Would he love you if you were nobody?

Mikey: Nobody loved me when I was nobody.

Y/N: I did!

Mikey: ....

Y/N: Before Bonten. And before Kanto. Before the darkness. To me, you were a somebody, Mikey...Now you're nothing but a murderer.

You always talk about how the only person loyal to you is Sanzu...I stayed with you from before the darkness.

Mikey: ...I-

Y/N: Y'know.. I never liked hurting people.. I wanted to become a nurse.. something that helped people.. but I chose to stay with you, follow you into the darkness and I never..I never wanted to see or do most of this..other stuff.. and I can never forgive myself for doing it..but I still did it.. I did it all cause I didn't want you to be alone and cause I loved you

I'm not so good at this sort of thing, I was just laying in bed, sleep deprived and watching Tik Tok's when I stumbled upon the video that I linked up top and then my mind took charge, creating this...if someone has written something like this or if you write something like this, please tag me! I'd love to read them!

57 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dreamerstreamer]

Toxic Taste

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] It's a perfect day for a picnic with your friends. Well, it seems like one until you suddenly fall very ill.

Warnings: very minor cursing

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: this was requested by @amintyworld​! everyone just loves protective dream, don’t they? i had fun exploring this concept, and i hope you enjoy!

You hummed, fixing your hair in the mirror before giving yourself one last once over, nodding to yourself. Looks good. Just then, you heard the door swing open behind you, creaking with a quiet groan. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Whirling around, your hand quickly grabbed the woven basket on the table beside you as you flashed Clay a bright grin, bounding over to his side with a skip in your step. “I am, now.”

Without having to say another word, he lifted his arm toward you, and you looped yours through his, your fingers tightening around the basket handle. The two of you stepped outside together, locking the door behind you before making your way down the oak path. Above you, only a few clouds dotted the cerulean blue sky, drifting along the gentle spring breeze.

It really was a perfect day for a picnic.

Turning, you cast a curious glance over at Clay. “Are you excited to see what everyone brought?”

He bobbed his head, his lips quirking up into a wicked grin. “Yeah—I can’t wait to make fun of whatever George made.”

You frowned, shooting him an unimpressed look. “George is a good chef in his own right,” you chided.

His smile widened, reaching over to gently tap your nose. “Yeah, but you’re the best.” He patted your basket cover, his viridian gaze swirling with mirth. “They’re gonna love your cookies.”

You rolled your eyes at him, snorting, but he didn’t miss the way your lips twitched. “You just say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

He hummed. “Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You raised your brows at him. “Oh? So you admit that you’re biased?”

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against yours in a peck, pulling back with a dazzling grin. “Of course,” he murmured in that soft tone that made your cheeks grow hot, “without a doubt.”

You swallowed, trying to calm your frantically beating heart. “You’re so cheesy,” you said, adopting a passive tone, “no more dilly-dallying, now. We have a picnic to get to.”

He sent you a crooked smile. “Okay, okay.” His eyes flashed. “I’ll race you.”

“Huh, wh—?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had suddenly bolted, his arm leaving yours. Almost immediately, your body yearned for the warmth of his pressed against yours, and you found yourself stumbling after him.

“Wait, Clay!” you called after him, your basket bouncing beside you as you watched him crest over the grassy hill. “That’s not fair! Get back here!”

He only turned to shoot you a goofy grin, laughter bubbling on his lips as he disappeared from view, his hoodie fading to nothing more than a tiny speck of green among the swaying blades of grass. You couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling from your lips, bursting from your chest like fireworks.

“You are so dead when I catch up to you!”

He called back over the horizon. “If you ever!”

Your grin only grew wider.

Oh, he was so dead.

“Your bread sucks.”

You gasped, lightly smacking Clay’s chest. “Clay!” Whipping around, you sent George an earnest grin. “George, I think your bread is wonderful.”

Beside you, Tommy made a face, setting his slice down on his plate with a disgusted glance. “Nah, I agree with Big D. This bread is pretty shit.”

Now, it was Wilbur’s turn to gasp. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s brows knit together as he scowled. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

George let out a long groan, his glasses threatening to slide off the crown of his head as he hung his face in his hands. “I am never baking, again.”

In an instant, Niki was on her feet, flailing her arms. “No, no, no! Don’t say that—baking can be a lot of fun!” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I can teach you a new sourdough recipe, if you’d like!”

George lifted his head, blinking at her with wide, hopeful eyes. “You would?”

She nodded, a bright smile tugging at her lips. “Of course!”

Sapnap snorted, taking another bite of steak. “I can’t believe you have to learn from someone else how to make good bread.”

George groaned again, glowering at his supposed best friend. “Why is everyone ganging up on me, today?”

Clay was quick to butt in. “Haven’t you heard? It’s National Be Mean to George Day.”

Tubbo blinked, confusion clouding his features. “That’s not a real holi—” He paused, then gasped. “Oh, wait.” He grinned. “Never mind.”

George’s glare only intensified, and he sighed. “Niki, forget it.”

While Niki practically shriveled into a puddle, Wilbur spoke up, offering him a reassuring smile. “Well, I think your bread is delicious, George. Genuinely.”

George flashed him a thankful grin, adjusting the glasses on his head. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

Letting out another laugh, you leaned back against Clay’s side, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as you snuggled against him. Your friends were always up to weird antics, and while you didn’t necessarily agree with their actions, you were willing to indulge in them, if only to see what would happen next. In front of you, you gingerly picked up the half-eaten fish skewer from your plate, lifting it to your lips as you took another bite. It was sweet, and vaguely tasted like saltwater, but you liked it. It was unique, in its own weird way.

You watched as Clay reached across the patterned blanket for the plate of cookies you had brought, gingerly picking one up. Glancing up at him, you opened your mouth. “Do you actually think George’s bread is bad?” you asked softly. “Or are you just trying to rile him up?”

He paused, the cookie halfway to his mouth, then shrugged, biting in. “It’s a bit of both. It isn’t half-bad, I guess.” He shot you a cheeky wink. “Yours is still better, though.”

You groaned, feeling your face grow warm. “Stop that.”

He tilted his head at you, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he chewed. “Stop what?” he said, leaning in close to you. “Being honest?”

You did your best to send him a glare, but you knew it was half-hearted at best. “Yes.”

His grin widened, his eyes glimmering with affectionate arrogance. “Never.”

As his eyes locked onto yours, you felt your glare melt away. With a small hum, he dipped his head to yours, pressing his mouth to yours with a smile. His tongue lapped at your lips, and you grinned back. He tasted like chocolate chips and sunshine. You pulled back with a quiet gasp, your cheeks burned with heat as his emerald eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the corners.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered for you and you alone.

Your heart swelled. “I love you, too.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then pressed his forehead against yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Also,” he added, “you taste like fish.”

You sent him a horrified look before smacking his arm again, your heart flipping as he wheezed at your reaction. “S-Shut up!”

He only wheezed harder in response, and despite your embarrassment, you felt a smile tugging on your lips. That was the thing about Clay that got you every time—as much as he would tease you and make your heart go wild in your chest, you knew he meant every single thing he told you. He was just so sincere like that, and it made you want to sink straight into him.

God, you were so, so in love.

Just then, a howl pulled you away from your attack on Clay. You turned to see Quackity, his mouth agape as he pointed at Niki, a bewildered look plastered to her face. “Niki!” he screamed. “You brought cake?”

She blinked, stunned for only a moment before she smiled, nodding. “Yeah! It’s homemade and has vanilla frosting.”

Quackity immediately sank down to one knee, one hand outstretched toward her as he said dramatically, “Marry me.”

Niki’s smile didn’t falter for even a second. “No thanks.”

Quackity’s arm dropped, and he let out a whine. “Damn, you didn’t have to say it so quickly.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat down with a pout. “You could have at least pretended to think about it.”

You all burst into laughter, giggling as Niki simply set her cake down on the blanket next to George’s bread. Wilbur had brought three watermelons—how he carted them over by himself, you had no idea—while Tommy brought pork chops. Tubbo had also caught fish for the occasion while Sapnap packed steak. Meanwhile, Quackity had carried a sack of apples over to the picnic, but you had a feeling he may or may not have stolen them, since he didn’t exactly own an apple orchard of his own.

You opened your mouth to ask for a slice of Niki’s cake when you suddenly froze, a bolt of what felt like lightning tingling up your spine. Your head spun, and you could have sworn your vision darkened at the edges. An uneasy pit grew in your stomach, and you frowned. Why do I feel so... strange?

Pushing yourself forward slightly, you tried to sit up straight, only to feel your arms wobble before you crashed back into Clay’s side once more. In a flash, his arms were around you, holding you steady as his green eyes peered down at yours.

“Hey,” he said, his tone growing serious, “are you okay?” He wrinkled his brow. “You look a little off.”

You blinked, feeling your stomach churn with uneasiness. “I’m, um—I feel kind of sick.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Clay was on his feet, stretching his arm out to you. “Here, let me help you up.”

You slipped your hand into his, doing your best to hang on tight as he tugged you upward. You expected to simply stand on your own two feet just as you would in any other situation, but the moment you were up, you suddenly felt your knees buckle beneath you, your legs going numb. You gasped as your feet went flying out under you, your fingers digging onto Clay’s palm.

“Clay—!”

With a whirl, his arms held you to his chest, your sides shaking. A rush of anxiety rolled through you, and you looked down, desperately trying to move your foot, only to find that you couldn’t. It remained as still as a rock, and you wanted to cry.

“[Y/N],” Clay breathed, his hand on your face as he supported your weight with his other arm, “what’s wrong?” His eyes desperately searched yours for any clue as to what was happening, but all you could manage was a broken, choked whisper.

“Clay, I—” You swallowed, your hands trembling around his arm while something stung at the back of your eyes. “I can’t move my legs.”

He froze, his voice dropping to a deadly low whisper. “You what?”

You shook your head, hanging onto him for dear life. The spinning had gotten worse now, and you felt sicker and sicker by the second. “I-I don’t know, I don’t feel good and something’s wrong and—Clay,” you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m scared.” Your heart pounded in your chest, but for all the wrong reasons. “Am I going to die?”

His gaze hardened, filling with determination as his hold around you tightened. “No,” he said without even an inkling of doubt, “you’re not.”

Before you could react, he suddenly swung one arm beneath your numb legs, easily hoisting you up so that you were carefully pressed against his chest. You gasped as your friends’ eyes landed on you, their faces full of worry as your head lolled against Clay’s shoulder.

“Everyone,” he said, his voice booming across the field, “there’s something wrong with the food.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat it.”

He turned his head, dipping his head toward George as he said, “George, I need you to get me as many regeneration potions and golden apples as you can, ASAP.”

George was on his feet as fast as he could, already turning on his heel. “I’m on it,” he shouted as he took off, already booking it down the hill.

Finally, Tubbo spoke up, asking the one question that had been on everyone’s mind. “Dream, what’s going on?”

Clay’s eyes darkened, and you could just barely feel his hands tighten around you while your vision swam.

“[Y/N]’s been poisoned.”

Wilbur gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god.”

Sapnap whipped his head around, gazing at the once serene picnic blanket with sheer terror. “What the fu—”

Suddenly, your hand shot up to grip Clay’s collar, his eyes immediately darting to yours. You gasped, your head absolutely throbbing as your heart rammed against your rib cage all too quickly. You opened your mouth, your spit tasting like salt and ash.

“Clay, I—”

The words died in your mouth as the world went dark, enveloping you in cold darkness.

You awoke with a start, bolting upright as you gasped, the cool air flooding your aching lungs. Immediately, you felt your stomach churn in retaliation, and your skull practically screamed at you to lie back down again. Slamming a hand over your eye, you felt the spinning of your head slowly fade away. Disoriented and dizzy, the blurriness of your vision began to lift as you blinked, taking in the sight of the room around you.

You didn’t recognize the windowsill at your side or the mattress you were lying on. The closed door stared back at you as your gaze swept over it, almost as if it knew you were confused. Not even the sheets looked familiar.

Where... am I?

You swallowed, something sharp and uneasy prickling up your spine.

What happened?

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you tried to recall the events that had led you up to this moment.

You remembered... cookies. And a picnic. Clay’s hand in yours. There was food, and laughter. Then suddenly, you were queasy. Sick. Something wasn’t right. Then... nothing.

You blanched. Did I pass out?

Just then, you heard the door click, the hinges swinging open with a creak. Your eyes flew open and your breath hitched in your throat, and you turned, your fingers curling tighter into the sheets. Your eyes went wide as Clay walked in, one hand on the handle and the other holding an apple. The moment his eyes met yours, he froze.

“Clay?” you whispered, your voice sounding hoarse.

The apple dropped to the ground.

In an instant, he was in front of you with his hands on your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His emerald eyes bore straight into yours with an intensity that sent your heart reeling. The words flew from his mouth in a flurry, his gaze never leaving yours.

“How are you feeling? Can you hear me? Is everything feeling alrig—”

“Woah, woah,” you said, waving your hand to cue him to stop, “what happened?”

His fingers trembled against your cheeks, and you could have sworn his eyes flashed with something wet. “[Y/N], oh, I’m—” He swallowed, his neck bobbing as he sent you a grateful smile. “I’m just so glad that you’re here.”

His hands pulled away from your face as he stood upright once more, heading for the open door. “Here, I’ll be back in a second.”

You raised your hand toward him, opening your mouth to say something, but he was already gone, having disappeared down the hall in a flash. Blinking, you sat stunned and even more confused than before, left only to wait and hope for an explanation once he returned.

Hardly even two minutes passed before you heard the rumbling of footsteps racing toward the open door. You squeaked when a series of faces filled the room, their cheeks red and chests heaving as they caught their breath. Clay immediately shuffled back to your side, slipping into the space on the bed next to you before grabbing your hand, squeezing.

“[Y/N]!” Niki cried, her eyes filled with panic. “Are you okay?”

Beside her, Tubbo’s hands shook at his side. “We only just heard from Dream that you were awake.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, your mind still hazy with everything that had just happened. Struggling to come up with an answer, you found yourself blurting the first words that came to mind. “How long has it been?”

You saw George shoot Sapnap a look, shrugging his shoulders before glancing back at you. “Uh, like, half a day.”

You shot forward, gaping. “Half a day?!”

Tommy flashed you a bright grin, leaning against Tubbo’s shoulder with a teasing look. “Yeah, you should have seen Dream run around! He spoon fed you regeneration potions and probably even read three whole fuckin’ libraries’ worth of books on poison antidotes while you wer—”

A hand suddenly smacked into Tommy’s skull, and he yelped. Behind him,  Wilbur scowled. “Tommy!” he scolded. There was a soft giggle, then Wilbur whirled, his eyes narrowing. “And Quackity.” The giggles stopped. “Don’t think I didn’t see you laughing. This is serious.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay, but it is funn—”

“[Y/N],” Clay suddenly said, cutting Tommy off as his hand squeezed yours.

You blinked, trying to ignore how low his voice sounded right about now. “Y-Yeah?”

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the sheets covering your lower half. “Can you move your legs?”

“Um...” Lifting an arm, you flung the sheets off of you, carefully shifting your leg back and forth. “Y-Yeah. I’m still feeling kind of funny, though.” You wrinkled your nose. “I’m not sure if I can stand, yet.”

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damn. I had a feeling this would happen, but I still wished it wouldn’t.”

Quackity took a step forward, his hand outstretched toward you. “Here, [Y/N], try—”

A snarl ripped itself out of Clay’s throat, and his shout echoed off the walls. “Don’t touch them!”

A tense silence immediately fell over the room, and Quackity back-pedalled, pulling his hand back as if he had burned it on hot coal. You watched as a pang of guilt shot across Clay’s face before he sighed. “Sorry, I mean—” He shook his head, lowering his head. “Fuck.”

Sapnap sent him a small smile, sincere and reassuring. “Hey, man,” he said softly, “it’s alright. We get it. You’re stressed. I’d react the same way if I was in your position.”

Clay raised his chin a little, his lips quirking. “Thanks, Sap.”

Wilbur suddenly spoke up, his eyes trained on you. “Dream, I think we still have some questions we should ask.”

Clay blinked, then nodded. “Right, thanks, Wilbur.” Clearing his throat, he turned to face you head on.” Do you still remember the picnic?” When you nodded, he continued. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

You paused, then shook your head. “Not that I can remember. I woke up, packed up a basket, walked over to the field with you, ate with everyone, then...” You gestured vaguely. “Well, y’know.”

His gaze hardened. “What did you eat?”

You thought for a moment. “Um, I ate an apple, and I had two slices of George’s bread.” You paused again, furrowing your brows. Then, your eyes lit up. “Oh, and I also ate some of the fish.”

Clay stared at you. “Fish?” he parroted.

You bobbed your head, humming. “Yeah. That’s about as much as I remember.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically see the gears turning in Clay’s head. “Did anyone else here eat the fish?” he finally said after a while.

Your friends cast curious looks at one another before George raised his hand, shaking his head. “No.” He jutted his head toward you. “[Y/N] was the first and only person to, I believe.”

Clay pursed his lips. “Tubbo.”

Tubbo jumped, looking panicked and shaky as he stammered out, “Y-Yes, Dream?”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Who exactly brought the fish?”

Tubbo gulped. “Uh, it, um, ah—” He inhaled sharply at the look on Clay’s face, then sighed. “I did, Dream.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Then, Clay sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Oh, it all makes sense now.”

Now, it was Tommy’s turn to speak, his expression clouded with confusion. “How the fuck does that make this make any more sense than it did before?”

Clay suddenly slipped his hand out of yours, your palm meeting nothing as he rose to his full height. You felt the air grow cold.

“Tubbo,” he said slowly, casually—almost too casually. A crooked, charming smile spread across his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of fish was it?”

Tubbo lowered his gaze to the ground. “Pufferfish,” he said in a tiny whisper.

Tommy stared. “Oh.” Understanding flickered across his face before being replaced by horror. “Oh.”

Clay took a step forward, the grin never leaving his face. “Tubbo—”

Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto his wrist before he could take another step. His arm was tense underneath your touch, but he stopped the moment your skin met his. “Clay,” you said quickly, your words rushed and hurried, “stop, please.”

He turned, looking back at you over his shoulder. You shook your head at him. “I’m sure it was an accident. Tubbo would never poison anyone deliberately, let alone me.”

You heard a soft hiccup, then Tubbo spoke. “I-I wouldn’t, I swear it! I just... I thought cooking pufferfish would make them less toxic for other people.”

Niki raised her hand, her face pleading as her eyes darted back and forth between Dream and Tubbo. “I can vouch for him, and not just because we’re friends. He might have built up his own tolerance for pufferfish poison, but I don’t think he realized just how bad it could turn out to be.”

Tubbo nodded frantically, looking smaller than ever as he finally lifted his head. “Seriously, Dream, I would never do it intentionally, I promise.” He turned to look at you, his sides shaking as your gaze met his.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he whispered, honesty and desperation soaking into every syllable he spoke, “I really am.”

Your face softened immediately, and you could only hope he knew how sincere you were being. “I forgive you, Tubbo.” Your eyes flit to the man in front of you. “Do you, Clay?”

You couldn’t see his expression from where you were sitting, but the look of terror on Tubbo’s face said it all. “Yes,” he said, “but only because you do.”

Your grip around his wrist tightened. “Clay, I’m positive. Please, just let it be.” You tugged a little, and he turned, watching as you kicked your legs at him with a small smile. “I’m all better now, see?”

The coldness in his gaze finally seemed to melt, and he shook his head at you, his lips twitching. “Fine.” Walking back over to you, you tucked your legs back against you as he sat on the bed, levelling a glare at the crowd gathered in front of you. “Now everyone, get out.”

There was a whistle. “Jeez, aggressive mu—”

“Tommy,” Wilbur said again, already tugging at the blond’s collar as he tread toward the hall, “an angry Dream is not someone you want to mess with.”

Tommy glowered as everyone filed out of the room, his voice fading away as they disappeared outside. “Ugh, you are such a killjo—”

Sapnap sent you a friendly smile as his hand wrapped around the door handle. “I hope you feel better soon, [Y/N].”

You returned his grin with a grateful look. “Thanks, Sapnap.”

With one last wave, he pulled the door shut, leaving you alone with Clay. Shifting forward slightly, you swung your legs off the bed, nudging him with your side. “Clay?” you murmured, your eyes searching his face. It was at times like this he was easier to read.

With a sigh, he hung his head in his hands, the vein in his neck bulging out. “God, I know he means well, but I still kind of want to wring Tubbo’s neck, right now.”

You leaned against him, pressing your cheek to his bicep. “Clay, don’t say that.”

He lifted his head, growling. “I know, I know! It’s just—”

He bit his lip, then sighed again, his arm reaching up to pull you onto his lap. Shifting you around so that you were facing him, his leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You don’t know how scared I was,” he whispered, sincere and true. “I never want to lose you. Ever.”

Heat crawled up your neck, and your head spun, but not for the same reasons as before. “C-Clay.”

His hand stroked along your back. “It’s the truth, y’know? I’d never lie to you, and I mean every word.” Leaning upward, he pressed his lips to your forehead as he spoke, the words shaking against your skin. “You mean more to me than you may ever know.”

You hummed, your heart blossoming in your chest. “Even if that’s the case,” you said, “you don’t need to be so upset, anymore.” You felt his lips leave your forehead, and you peered up at him through your lashes. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

You leaned back in his arms, reaching up to brush your fingertips over his freckles. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him melt a little at the gesture. “Now,” you said, quiet yet firm, “promise me you won’t be mad at Tubbo the next time you see him.”

He blinked. “W-What?”

You pursed your lips. “Clay.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I promise.” A sly grin slipped onto his face. “But only if...”

You raised a brow at him. “Only if...?”

You half-wanted to smack the stupid grin off his stupidly perfect face. “Only if you give me a kiss.”

You giggled, slipping your arms over his shoulder and around his neck. He always knew how to make you laugh, even at serious times like this. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss. He still tasted like freshly squeezed lemonade, gleaming in the light of the sweet summer sun. You felt him smile against you, and you pulled away mirroring his expression.

“There,” you whispered, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Does that seal the deal?”

He hummed, tilting his head at you while mischief danced in his eyes. “Maybe you should do it again just to make sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across your face.

Your picnic may have been a disaster, but you wouldn’t mind ending your days wrapped in Clay’s arms more often.

[i-just-like-goats]

Miya Atsumu x Female Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: The Inarizaki team have all placed bets on when you and your longtime best friend Atsumu will finally get together. Kita is close to losing the bet, time for him to step in.

It is known to all students at Inarizaki High that Atsumu was a lady’s man. Sure he wasn’t a womaniser or a player, but that didn’t stop him from breaking hearts everywhere he went. His mere dismissal of a girl would lead that girl to burst into tears, straight up rejections even worse. His casual flirtatious comments did not at all help with his reputation, leading oblivious girls to believe he actually held interest in them. How wrong they were.

Whereas you. You deemed yourself nothing special. Nothing too flashy, unlike a certain someone. You didn’t stand out in a crowd, and most certainly never attempted to shine or take the spotlight. You left that to your best friend.

Miya Atsumu.

“Hey could you-“

“No.”

“Will you please put in a good-“

“No.”

The first two girls had left, their hopes crushed, you felt relieved they had gone to class until another girl replaced them and effectively disrupted your short lived peace.

“Y/N!” She said, her voice oozed with fake sweetness.

“Do I know you?” You asked bluntly.

“We sit next to each other in chemistry, silly. Don’t you remember?”

“And?”

“So I was wondering if I could ask you a favour?”

“If it’s homework we had none. If it’s class work I’ll send you my notes. If it’s anything else; leave me alone.”

“I just need you to give this little gift to At-“

“Not interested.”

With that you swiftly walked away, which left the unnamed girl open mouthed with shock. This was the daily routine you had to put up with. Reject all of Atsumu’s fan girls who approached you in order to reach him. Truth be told it was extremely tedious, but you couldn’t really complain - after all you were the one who befriended him. It was a small price to pay for being friends with him.

“Hey I was wondering if you could set me up with Atsumu?” A different girl asked.

Scratch that it wasn’t small. At all. It was a big price to pay. Very tedious. Very irritating. Very time consuming. By the time you reached your first class - English - you were already exhausted and plopped yourself into your seat.

“Don’t you look wonderful?”

“Well you wouldn’t look so hot either if you had to fight off Atsumu’s admirers in the space of one morning.”

Osamu noticed your sharp tone and held his hands up in mock surrender. You shook your head at him and started writing down what your teacher was saying.

Lunch came around and you made your way to your usual table next to your best friend.

“There’s my favourite best friend!”

All eyes were on you as you made your way to Atsumu. Some looked with contempt. Some with envy. Others with anger. All harboured ill feelings towards you. He had that certain look in his eye when you walked over to him, like you were the greatest thing in the world. His smile widened once you took the seat across from him, Atsumu’s eyes sparkled with joy as though it was his first time seeing your face again. Suna scoffed at his expression, not before taking a sneaky picture of proof about how much Miya Atsumu was whipped for Y/N L/N.

“Where were you all morning! I missed you so much,”

“I was dying,”

Silence. Atsumu tilted his head in confusion. Next to him, his twin stifled a laugh.

“Bro, your girlfriend here was busy fending off the wild animals that make up your fan club. She had no time to see your stupid face, and the last time you saw her was yesterday,”

Everyone in proximity of your table tensed up at Osamu’s words. From the table next to yours, Atsumu’s fan girls glared daggers at you.

“Yesterday was ages ago,” Atsumu whined.

“That’s what you focus on?” You ask incredulously.

Instantly Atsumu’s demeanour changed and he glanced to his left.

“Way to go Osamu, now Y/N’s on their hit list,” Atsumu said dryly.

“Well if you didn’t flirt back none of us would be in this mess,” Kita kindly passive aggressively informed his teammate.

Ever since Atsumu’s first official match, girls had been flocking to Atsumu like a swarm of bees to their queen. Every day the Inarizaki volleyball team had to deal with squealing fan girls gushing over Atsumu’s talent for volleyball, essentially distracting the players and disrupting practice. At first Atsumu shamelessly flirted back, basking in the attention, now he, as well as the others were fed up. In short, Kita was tired. Tired of the fan girls. And most importantly tired of the fact that you and Atsumu weren’t dating yet. At this rate Kita would lose the bet that Osamu and Suna had coerced him to take part in. He had bet that you and Atsumu would be dating by the end of the month, which was this Saturday, and the way things were going between you two, he’d probably have to ask you out himself for Atsumu in order to win the bet. On the other hand, Osamu bet that Atsumu would ask in their third year, Aran bet that you would actually ask instead of Atsumu and Suna bet that Atsumu would ask at the end of next month. It was decided that the losers would do what the winner wanted for a day, with no complaining whatsoever. A whole day of getting the team to do what he wants without complaints. A dream come true for Kita.

“It’s the end of the month on Saturday. Two days,” Osamu sing songed.

“So?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing,”

You dropped it and shrugged. Opposite you, Kita sent a saccharine smile towards Osamu, while the latter playfully smirked back. Kita had a plan.

Two day passed as usual, nothing significant happened; that is until the end of the second day. As usual, you made your way out of Physics with Atsumu; your best friend filled in the silence with his cheerful chatter. Unusually, Kita stood there at the end of the corridor.

“Hey cap! What brings you here?” Atsumu inquired.

Kita seemed to snap out of whatever was bothering him, for his face returned from his previous scrunched expression to his more neutral expression.

“Hm? Oh I came here to speak with Y/N. If that’s alright with the two of you?”

You nodded, though intrigued as to what Kita wanted to talk to you about, Atsumu on the other hand stayed silent. Before you left with Kita, he crushed you with a hug and sent puppy eyes at your retreating figure, walking next to his captain.

During the walk out of school grounds, Kita mentally prepared himself to convince you to ask Atsumu out, allowing both his and Aran’s plan to work, so that the pair won the bet - Kita was too engrossed in his thoughts. A while passed before you and Kita spoke; you were already halfway home before you confronted Kita.

“Kita?”

“You have feelings for Atsumu, don’t you?”

Kita panicked at your sudden dialogue and spoke the words that first came to his mind. His panic was not conveyed through his steady tone of voice. Truth be told, it was more of a statement than a question, it certainly caught you off guard. The latter half of the sentence seemed to be added hastily as though to soften the bluntness.

“What makes you say that?” You answered evenly, and turned your face away from him, a small blush settled firmly on your cheeks.

“Answering my question with a question I see,” he teased, “Everyone knows, the both of you don’t hide your feelings very well, it surprises me that you two aren’t dating yet,”

“I know he has feelings for me, I’m not an idiot, I see the way he looks differently at me and I see how he’s more clingy towards me than the others. I’m not an idiot,” you repeated.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know,”

“I think you do know. Idiot,”

You pouted and let out a huff.

“Fine. Fine,” you finally conceded, “I’m not an idiot but I am a coward. I guess - as cliché as it sounds - I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What if it doesn’t work out and we end on bad terms? Years of friendship would be wasted and gone in an instant. I just. I just don’t want to risk that happening,”

“What’s life without a little risk,”

At Kita’s attempt at lightening the mood, you scoffed and shook your head.

“Sorry, that was unlike me. What I meant to say was you won’t know until you try. Sure there is that possibility that the relationship may end badly and the precious friendship between you and Atsumu would probably be lost, but there is also a chance that this relationship will end happily, with no heartbreak. I can’t guarantee that everything will be peachy; obviously there’s going to be some problems along the way but knowing your stubborn personality I am confident that you will fight for you and Atsumu, because I know you care way too much for him to let him go,”

Kita’s speech surprised you, this was the most encouraging thing he had said to you. Ever. You smiled.

“Thanks Kita. I really needed that,” you said as you finally reached your house.

Kita made his way to his house, waving as he walked down the steeet. He left you with a lot to think about.

Later that evening you called Kita again, and talked until he decided that it was time to go to sleep.

That morning you walked to school with Kita in a comfortable silence. Once you reached school you spoke.

“Ok I’m going to do it,”

“Yes you will,” Kita encouraged.

Confidently you walked up to your long time best friend, then suddenly turned the other direction.

“I can’t do it,” you cried out.

Exasperatedly, Kita shook his head and forced a strained smile.

“Y/N do you want to do this or not?”

“I do,”

“Then go get him,”

“I’ll do it while we walk home,”

Anyway, the school day passed, honestly you couldn’t remember what happened, it was all a blur.

“Atsumu?” you called.

“Yup?”

“Do you want to walk home together?”

“Yes! I’m still kinda annoyed you walked with Kita, Kita of all people instead of me,”

“Sorry about that ‘Tsumu,” you replied bashfully.

With that you both made your way out of school. Little did you know Kita, Osamu, Suna and Aran followed you both from a distance. Osamu and Suna because they just wanted to go home. Kita and Aran to make sure you confessed.

“Get ready to do what we want for a day,” Kita stated.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Suna questioned.

“Kita and I formulated a plan,” Aran answered cryptically.

“Guys shut up Y/N stopped walking,” Osamu whisper shouted.

You had indeed stopped walking, leaving Atsumu to carry on walking and talking. You had been quiet the whole walk, which wasn’t unusual, as you normally let Atsumu talk, while you listened. You were just too lost in your thoughts.

“Y/N?”

Atsumu had finally noticed that you were no longer by his side.

“Hellooo. Earth to Y/N,”

“I like you,”

Atsumu was taken aback. That was not a reply he was expecting.

“I just really like your smile, your personality even though you can be quite big headed at times, I like your laugh, I just like you for you, not in the way that those girls like you for your looks and skills. I like everything about you even your flaws,”

“Whoa, for real?”

You glanced at his expression and burst out laughing.

“You look like surprised Pikachu!” you wheezed out.

Atsumu joined in with your laughter. The two of you continued laughing for several minutes.

“I like you too,” Atsumu said once both your laughter finally died down.

You turned your gaze towards his eyes. His beautiful eyes that held all the stars in the galaxy.

“That’s a relief,” 

[storiesforallfandoms]

never let you go ~ rook

word count: 1329

request?: yes!

“Rook x female reader, can I have a fluff rook where he returns from tour and they cuddle please”

description: after being away from each other for so long, he decides he wants to hold her and never let her go

pairing: rook x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

Your nightly routine since Rook went on tour included a phone call or FaceTime before you went to bed. Most nights, due to the time differences of wherever Rook was, you’d fall asleep while on the call. You tried to stay awake, but Rook always thought it was adorable to see you sleeping or to hear your steady breathing.

One night, like every night since he left, you were just getting into bed when Rook called. You settled away in the big bed, which was usually also occupied by Rook, as you raised your phone at a perfect angle. When you accepted the FaceTime call your screen was filled with Rook’s face. He was laying in yet another hotel room bed, a lonely mirror to the one you were in.

“Hey,” you said. “How are you?”

“Tired,” Rook responded. “It’s a rare no show night and I’m definitely feeling the effects of the tour.”

“Well it’s almost over, right? Then you’ll have some time off to relax. And it will be a good amount of time off because I refuse to let Kells take you again for at least a year.”

Rook chuckled. “You may have to put up a fight for that.”

“I’m very feisty.”

“I’m well aware.”

You smiled as you rolled onto your side, propping the phone up against a pillow so you could still see him. Rook shifted into a similar position so it was like you were laying next to each other.

“I can’t wait to be in our bed with you,” he said. “Hotel beds feel too empty and not comfy.”

“I can’t wait for you yo be back,” you said. “It’s lonely.”

You yawned, to which Rook chuckled. “Tired babe?”

“No,” you responded, although your eyes were growing heavy. “Keep talking, tell me about your day.”

Rook smiled. “Go to sleep, (Y/N). We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Stay on till I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

You smiled sheepishly as you finally allowed your eyes to close. You could hear his breathing, which gave you the illusion that he was really there, as you finally drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~

The next night, you were eagerly awaiting Rook’s phone call. It was a lazy day, so you had taken a nap in order to stay up longer during the call. You were so excited that you could barley focus on anything else are you waited.

When the call didn’t come, you were confused. You checked to see when the last time you had heard from Rook was. He had texted you that morning to say good morning, but there hadn’t been anything else since that. You decided to text him to ask what he was doing, a subtle reminder that it was time for him to call. I waited another half hour, checking to see if he had responded.

When no call came, you decided to take it into your own hands to call him first. It didn’t even ring, instead it went straight to his voicemail. That was strange and you weren’t really sure how to feel about it. Maybe his phone was dead, but Rook rarely let his phone die. Especially while he was away and meant to be calling you every night. Unless it died by mistake, so maybe he was charging it and he’d call soon.

You sent him another text, another casual one where you asked if he was okay. You didn’t want to let your mind run wild just yet. You were sure everything was fine.

Another few hours passed and still no word. You tried calling another few times, but it still went to voicemail. You were starting to get worried. You texted his friends as well to see if they had been talking to them, but they all told you the same thing: that Rook had gone back to his hotel room after their last soundcheck to call you. You started to wonder if he had made it back to his hotel room, or worse...that maybe he hadn’t gone back alone.

You were starting to get tired and your eyes were growing heavy. You tried to fight it so you could hopefully finally talk to him, but your tiredness was so overwhelming. You were nearly asleep when you heard knocking at the front door. You opened one eye to look at the time.

Who the hell is knocking at the door past midnight? you thought to yourself. Probably a crazy person or something. Best to ignore it and let them go to the next house.

You closed your eyes again. The knocking persisted, but you were able to drown it out. You were so close to slipping into unconsciousness when your phone rang. You grumbled as you reached out to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Sorry babe. Did I wake you?”

You perked up at the sound of Rook’s voice. “I mean yeah you did, but I’m not mad. The complete opposite, actually. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry babe. I didn’t mean to leave you on the hook like that.”

You sighed. “I know. Just next time use the hotel phone or a payphone to call someone if your phone is dead.”

“Oh, well I couldn’t really do that.”

“Why? The hotel rooms don’t have phones? You should probably look into better hotels if the ones you’re staying in don’t have phones.”

“No actually it’s not that.”

The knocking came at the door again.

“You gonna get that?” Rook asked.

You were about to say no when you realized the knock definitely wasn’t loud enough for him to hear it through the phone. Your eyes widened as you hung up the call and quickly threw yourself out of bed. You raced to the door so fast you nearly ran right into it.

When you opened it, Rook stood there with his phone still up to his ear and his suitcase trailing behind him. You were so excited you immediately jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over. He laughed as he hugged you back.

“Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” you asked. “Wait, come in before you answer that. You’re standing on the doorstep of your own house.”

Rook walked into the house and laid his things aside. You giggled as he picked you up and carried you back to the bedroom. As he laid down next to you and took you into his arms, you felt complete again. The room didn’t feel as empty.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he answered your earlier question. “The flight was super delayed, though. I was hoping to be home long before you went to bed. I felt so bad when I took my phone off flight mode and saw how many texts you had sent me.”

“Did you have the guys cover for you then?” you asked. “I texted them and they all told me you were gone back to your hotel room to call me.”

“No, I didn’t think there’d be a reason for you to reach out to them. I guess they rallied that together on their own.”

You laid silently in his arms for a while, just taking in the fact that he was there. You couldn’t believe he was actually home. You were so sure this was a dream, that you’d wake up the next morning in the big empty bed again. You squeezed him gently, trying to make sure he was actually there with you.

“I’m not going anywhere babe,” he murmured into your hair. “I plan on cuddling you until we’re both sore from laying in bed for so long, so you can go to sleep. I won’t let you go.”

“I love you,” you whispered into the darkness.

“I love you too. Go to sleep babe.”

You rested your cheek against his chest, taking in the warmth that seemed to radiate off of him, as you slowly let yourself drift off to sleep.

[lunar-wandering]

100 kilometers left to travel

so me and the ~discord~ came up with a MK clone (not a hair clone, this one was created by science! how fun!) and I kinda. went a little wild so now I’m Making A Fanfic for him-

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on Ao3

He knew something was wrong the instant he woke up.

The ground was hard and cold, he could feel tiny rocks digging into him as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He could faintly hear water dripping in the distance, the sound of a car driving overhead. The soft click of somebodies shoes hitting the floor as they approached him.

He moved his hand to the side, trying to find a better position to push himself up and off the floor. His hand landed in something wet, and he hurriedly pulled it back. His eyes were still closed. He couldn't see what he had touched.

He hoped it was just water.

Taking a deep, wheezing breath, he slowly pushed himself up, trying to stand, before stumbling, sitting down and leaning against the cool metal behind him. His limbs ached, they felt like they hadn't moved in ages.

Now that he was thinking of it, had he ever moved before?

....Who was he?

A flash of some kind of memories danced in his mind. A hint of pink, the taste of something good, a book being placed in his hands, a flash of green, a dash of red, the warmth of tea, a touch of gold, a tint of purple, and something blue.

Blue.....

His head hurt. He couldn't make sense of any of the colours within his mind, the emotions they brought with them coming and going like the tide, vanishing before he could even begin to decipher them. He didn't..... he couldn't understand.

"Ah, I see you've survived."

He'd forgotten about the footsteps.

Something about the voice sent shivers down his spine, making him curl up, every inch of him shouting 'protect yourself! you're not safe!'.

"Oh, well we can't have that."

A hand softly ran through his hair, before harshly pulling it, moving his head out of the curled up position he'd put himself in. It didn't hurt a lot, but it still made him whimper in fear.

"Look at me."

He didn't want to know what would happen if he disobeyed. Slowly he tried to open his eyes, the colours of real life swirling almost as much as the colours within his brain. He closed his eyes in response to the sudden stimuli, before remembering the voice's demand and forcing them open again. Despite this, he couldn't make out who was in front of him, his eyes incapable of focusing.

He could only see blue and white.

"Hm..... I suppose you'll have to do." The voice let go of his hair, but he didn't move. He had a feeling curling back up, despite how every instinct was screaming at him to do so, would be a bad idea. "You certainly didn't melt like the others."

Melt? What did they-

"Tell me, Experiment Number 7, are you ready for your mission?"

He didn't even know what his mission was.

But he knew, down in his bones, that saying 'no' would have consequences.

"Y-" He tried to speak, but his voice cracked, breaking off into nothing. He coughed, trying to speak again, only for the voice to huff in irritation.

"You needn't continue. I suppose I should give you a bit longer to adjust before I send you out....this must be perfect in order for destiny to come to fruition."

The footsteps clicked again, and he waited until they had faded away and he couldn't hear them anymore before he slumped, curling in on himself again, letting out a wheezing breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

Alone, he listened to the sounds surrounding him, colours flickering in his mind again before, inevitably, he fell back asleep.

-

"MK!"

MK jolted, leaning back and falling out of the chair he'd been sleeping in. On his way down, he knocked the table with his head, sending a bowl of broth (there had been noodles, but MK had already ate them) flying down to splatter on the floor beside him. He groaned, rubbing his head as it ached.

He felt like he'd dreamed about something important....

MK blinked, and suddenly Mei was leaning over him.

"You alright?" She asked, holding out her hand to help him up. MK took her up on her offer, standing up and dusting himself off, before looking at the shattered bowl and liquid on the floor, and sighed.

"Guess I'll have to clean that up...." He mumbled, before switching gears and turning to Mei with a smile on his face. "Anyways, I'm fine, but Mei, what are you doing here?"

"Did you seriously forget already?" Mei asked, "You promised you'd come with me to the arcade today!"

"Oh. I didn't forget I just, I didn't realize so much time had passed, I must've been asleep for longer than I thought...." MK said, stretching a little to get the last bits of tiredness out of his limbs. Mei watched him with a look of concern.

"Have you been sleeping enough lately?" She asked, looking him up and down, searching for any sign that he wasn't taking care of himself like he should.

"Yeah, I just...." MK paused for a moment, before shrugging. "I keep having these weird dreams. They feel important, but I can never really remember them."

"Is it a side effect of your monkey powers?"

"Monkey King doesn't have prophetic dreams Mei." MK said, walking out the door, Mei keeping in time with his stride. "Or well. It's never mentioned in the stories."

"You'll have to ask him when he gets back from his vacation then." Mei said.

"Yeah, I guess I will......"

-

He took a deep breath, leaning against the wall of the alley way.

Glancing out, he could see his original, walking beside the green girl.

(He hadn't bothered to learn her name. He felt like he should know it, but it would be fine. He could learn it later, it wasn't important for his mission yet.)

Right now, what he had to do was simple. Grab his original, bring him back to the lair, and then, once he'd gathered his information, replace him.

Simple. Easy.

He looked back out at the fairly crowded street.

Simple. Easy.

And then suddenly there was a crash, his original shrieked, and then red was there too, the green girl holding him back from attacking the original.

When has anything ever been easy?

He turned and started heading back to the lair.

The Lady wasn't going to be happy about this, but there was no way the plan was going to work today.

-

Two weeks later, MK leaned against the railing on the deck of the ship, while Wukong sat on the railing, swinging his legs off the side.

"....Monkey King?"

"Yeah, what's up, bud?"

"Have you ever had like, prophetic dreams?" MK asked, and Wukong's legs paused mid swing.

".......No." He answered, slowly, "Why? Did something happen?"

"Well, not exactly." MK said, thinking of how best to explain it. "I've been having these dreams, but it's like I just can't remember them once I wake up. I know they happened, and I feel like they're telling me something important, but what actually happened in them just keeps...slipping out of my grasp."

"And you're sure they're not just regular dreams?" Wukong asked, sighing when MK shook his head yes. "....Okay. I can't say that I've experienced anything like that, but I can look into it if it really concerns you."

"Thank you." MK sighed in relief, before giving Wukong a smirk. "On another note, you should probably run, I think Pigsy's finally noticed that you stole all the snack food."

"Oh n-" Wukong scrambled off the railing, causing the spoon Pigsy threw at him to just barely miss. Hurriedly, he turned and ran back into the ship, Pigsy chasing after him. MK gave a little laugh as he watched the both of them disappear through the door, leaving him alone on the deck.

It was almost...nice to be able to relax like this. Sure, the Lady Bone Demon was after them, but it wasn't like there was a demon attacking every other day. In fact, thus far into their journey, they hadn't been attacked at all.

So of course, it was immediately after he had that thought that something hit him in the back of the head, hard, causing him to pass out.

-

MK woke up to a dark room.

No, not a room.

A cell, as evidenced by the bars.

He shivered, as a cold breeze blew through the cell. His jacket was missing.

Recognizing that this was probably not good, MK quickly sat up, grabbing hold of the bars and pressing his face against them, trying to tilt his head to see the surrounding area better.

"Hey you, you're finally awake."

MK bit back a shriek, startling and hitting his head against the bars with a clang. He let go of the cell bars to hold his head, crouching down as he hissed in pain.

"Woah, don't go knocking yourself out again so soon, I need someone to talk to around here."

MK knew that voice.

Looking over to the side, he could see someone sitting in the corner, half enshrouded in darkness.

"Why are you here, Macaque?" MK asked, rubbing his head as he stood up again. "And also, did you seriously just quote a meme at me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque said, amusement in his voice. "And I'm here because I wanna be."

"Bullshit." MK deadpanned.

"If Wukong was here you'd get smacked." 

"Well yeah, but he's not, so-" MK said, smirking, before looking back out through the bars again. "Where are we anyways?"

"One of the Lady Bone Demon's lairs." Macaque answered, standing up and walking to also glance out through the bars. As he entered into the slightly more lit area of the cell, MK could see that his clothes were torn, dried blood staining it, and a torn piece of his scarf wrapped around his arm. MK barely bit back his concern in favor of a different question.

"She has more than one lair?"

"Apparently." Macaque shrugged. "This is a different one from the one I first woke up in, so I can only assume it's a different location."

"...How long have you been captured? Actually, wait, better question, how long have I been captured?" MK asked, panic starting to grip him. What if he'd been gone for too long, and something had happened to-

"I don't think it's been any more than a few hours for you." Macaque said, alleviating at least some of MK's worries. At least he hadn't been passed out for 3 days or something.... "As for me....I don't know."

"Wh- how could you not know?" MK asked, "Have you seriously been in here long enough that you can't remember how much time has passed?"

"I think it's been a week."

"You think!?"

-

In the end, it had been rather easy to escape.

Scarily easy, to be honest. There hadn't been a single guard, and they hadn't encountered the Lady Bone Demon so much as once the whole time.

Macaque had, in return for MK not telling Wukong that he had helped out, personally gotten MK back to the ship via shadow-teleportation. MK had to admit, traveling through shadows was a weird experience, but it was kinda thrilling in a way, a bit like a roller coaster. The two of them popped out of the shadow of a tree beside a forest clearing, where the ship had landed on the ground.

"This is as far as I'm taking ya, kid." Macaque said, falling back into the shadows. "......You might want to mentally prepare yourself before you get back on the ship by the way."

"Prepare myself for what?" MK asked, but Macaque had already vanished, leaving MK alone.

MK sighed, then walked over to the ship, going to climb up the side of the ship and onto the deck, but then paused, one leg over the ship's railing as he took in the sight before him. He slowly blinked, wondering if he was just seeing things, but nope, Mei was holding another him at sword point, the others standing behind her in a defensive position.

"Who are you and why are you doing a horrible job at pretending to be my friend!" Mei asked, leering over the other MK in a threatening matter.

"Hey, I thought I was doing a good job at pretending to be MK!" The other MK yelled.

"Evidently not!" MK said, fully climbing over the rail and dropping down onto the deck, drawing the attention over to where he was. "Seriously, who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell are you?" The other MK shot back, before realizing what he said. "No, wait that was a stupid question, I know who you are- why did I say that?"

The others ignored him, in favor of staring at MK in suspicion.

"Are you the real MK?" Pigsy asked, causing MK to sputter in offense.

"Wh- of course I am-" MK said, before cutting himself with a yelp, as Wukong suddenly appeared beside him, lifting his arm, picking him up, basically checking him all over before placing him back on the ground, seemingly satisfied.

"Yep, this one is the real deal." He confirmed, before glaring at the other MK. "That one, on the other hand-"

They turned back to the other MK, who had, in the moment of distraction, begun to slowly inch away from Mei's sword, and now was halfway over the railing, about to jump off.

"Oh no you don't." Mei hissed, grabbing onto the back of the other MK's jacket (and oh, so that's where MK's jacket had went, not only did he have a double, but said double was a jacket thief-) and pulling him back onto the ship, letting him fall backwards and slam down on the metal deck. "You're not going anywhere until we get some answers out of you, KM."

"KM?" The other MK asked, everyone else looking at Mei with the same degree of confusion.

"I needed something to call you other than MK." She said, shrugging, before getting right back to business. "Now. Who sent you?"

"What, like I'm just gonna tell you that-" Mei's sword poked closer to his neck. "The Lady! The Lady Bone Demon! She's the one who sent me!"

"Well. That certainly explains why I woke up in one of her cells." MK said, and was immediately met with various looks of concern. He threw his hands up in self-defense. "Hey, don't look at me like that, she didn't even show up, like seriously, it was ridiculously easy for me and Macaque to escape-"

"I'm sorry, you and who?" Wukong interrupted, looking like he was about to breakdown then and there.

"Oh, that's the shadow guy, right?" KM asked, ignoring the glares the others sent him. "I talked with him a few times. Or, well, we didn't so much as talk, more like I walked past him, but like. Same thing, right? Ha ha, yeah, uh, anyways, can we put the sword away now?"

"Depends." Mei said, "What're you gonna do now that we know? You going to go ham, no offense Pigsy, and kill us all?"

"What? No." KM said, "Well. Is that what I'm supposed to do?"

"No, no, no-" MK hurriedly said, rushing forwards, pushing Mei and her sword to the side in order to be face to face with KM, which, wow, that was weird seeing his own face not on him and not on a hair clone- how does KM even exist if he's not a hair clone- wait he's getting distracted- "It is not what you're supposed to do. You are not going to do that. Right?"

"....Right." KM said, slowly nodding. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Mei was back up, shoving MK over as she pointed her sword at KM again.

"That didn't sound like a very confident answer." She said. KM glanced at her, taking in her threatening expression, looked over her shoulder, seeing the expressions of the others-

"If I give you the staff, will you not kill me?" He asked.

That made everyone pause.

"....What, exactly, do you mean by that?" Wukong asked, and KM, in response, hurriedly removed his jacket, shaking it out a little-

And the staff fell out, clanging and slightly denting the deck.

There was a moment of silence.

MK slowly reached over, grabbing hold of, and lifting the staff, feeling a familiar warmth rush through him.

"Why did you have this?" He asked, and KM rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well I mean, you had it in the videos I watched, but I couldn't make a realistic replica, so when I saw it in the Lady Bone Demon's lair I just... took it?" He said, carefully watching the other's blank expressions. "I-I figured it'd make it easier to pretend to be you if I had it-"

"So what you're saying is you stole it." Pigsy said, "From the Lady Bone Demon."

"I don't know, maybe?" KM said, and Mei slowly lowered her sword, before finally putting it away.

KM watched on as the group all looked at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation via eye contact.

(They were, in fact, having a real conversation, as Wukong was astral projecting to everyone, and thus basically opened a telepathic connection.

"We could just let him stay with us." MK said.

"Kid, are you crazy? Do you know what he is?" Wukong asked.

"No actually." MK said.

KM, not being in the loop, had no way of knowing this.)

"....So uh, KM was it, what exactly are you?" Tang asked, and once again all eyes were on KM, who shifted nervously.

"Uh, a clone? Like- like test-tube clone. Created in the science goo and all that." KM said, making jazz hands as he said 'science goo'. No one looked very impressed.

"She knows how to do that?"  Wukong whispered under his breath, sounding almost horrified.

"Are there any others like you?" Sandy asked.

KM thought back to the wetness he'd touched when he was first created.

"....No." KM said, "The others failed. They.....they melted."

There was another moment while the others had a silent conversation.

( "Look, he's all alone, we can't just leave him be!"

"But-"

"Look, we know you don't trust him Monkey King, which to be honest the rest of us don't really trust him either, but we can't just leave this kid alone!")

Wukong gave an irritated sigh.

"Fine." He said, marching over to KM, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him up so that he was standing. He grabbed MK's jacket out of KM's hand, tossing it over his shoulder, where it proceeded to land directly on top of MK's head. "Look, kid, the others have decided to trust you, and I've been outvoted, so listen. We're going to let you stay on the ship. But if I catch any sign of you being up to no good, I will not hesitate to throw you overboard. Clear?"

"As crystal." KM said.

"Good." Wukong said, "But, just in case-"

And then KM's bandana was gone, replaced with a golden circlet. With nothing to hold up his hair, it flopped down, almost completely blocking the new circlet from view. KM reached his hand up to feel it, instantly recognizing what it was.

"....Why." He asked.

"Like I said, just a precaution." Wukong said.

("I have always wanted to do that to someone else-"

"Monkey King."

"Oh. Oops, forgot this connection was still open-")

"You don't have to worry though." Wukong continued, "It won't hurt you or anything, you just won't be able to get more than a kilometer away from me or MK."

"Okay??" KM said, and, well, that was that.

KM was officially a member of the ship.

-

"Out of curiosity, what was it that made you realize KM wasn't me?" MK asked, later that night. Mei immediately broke out into a wild grin, while KM groaned.

"Well first of all, he didn't call any of us by our names." Mei began, "He called me Green Girl, Sandy was Tea Man, so on and so forth. But the real thing that made us realize was that-"

"Don't say it-" KM started, but Mei wasn't going to listen.

"He referred to himself in the third person." She said, "Or, really, he was referring to you, but since he was pretending to be you-"

"Look, I just got used to thinking 'MK smiles like this' and 'MK moves like that', okay?!" KM said, covering his face with his hands. "It just became the default y'know?"

"Understandable, but really?" MK asked, "You didn't once train yourself into talking like you were me?"

"Look, I've only been alive for one month-"

[solastia]

The Dragon’s Lair - 7

- SEOKJIN’S POV -

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x F!Reader (although she’s kinda OC now huh?)

A/N: Kinda on the short side, I apologize. But I wanted us to get a quick peek into Jin’s side of things and where his mind is. Any guesses on who his mate might be? ;) 

*****

He wasn’t sure what had woken him up. The house was silent beyond Namjoon’s snores that he could hear coming through the old walls. He waited a few seconds to see if he could hear anything else or catch a scent, but it was all clear. There was just something pricking at his mind - something making his instincts go wild. He’d blame the fact that he was in a new house but this wasn’t a new feeling. 

It had begun when his ride here had traveled past the sea. He’d gotten a whiff of fresh ocean air and his fur had instantly bristled up. His claws had lengthened involuntarily and he’d had to exercise every scrap of self-control he possessed so he wouldn’t leap out of the moving vehicle and run full-shift towards whatever that scent had been. 

Seokjin groans and cracks open his eyes, still heavy with sleep. He might as well take a trip to the bathroom while he was already awake. He yawns and forces himself out of the comfy bed, scratching his belly sleepily. Even now, the scent was clear to him. There had been the smell of the ocean, yes, but...something else. Something other like him. 

The realistic part of Seokjin’s brain said maybe his exotic side had simply found a scent it liked and that’s that. But when he allowed himself to be more fanciful, like now when it was three am and he was still half asleep, he listened to the Sphinx screaming, “mate, mate, MATE!,” and he didn’t hate the idea. 

He’d been alone for so very long that it sounded like a dream. A fairytale ending for his Cinderella story. 

Not that Namjoon was any sort of evil stepsister, nor his mate that exuded naivety and goodness from every pore. If anything, he knew that he was particularly blessed to have Heechul hyung looking out for him and talking this human into taking him in. He would have dealt with having to be in the shelter again, but quite honestly he was too old to do well there. He was a grown Sphinx used to independence and being at the top of his hierarchy. 

He finishes in the bathroom and sighs heartily, deciding sleep was going to be impossible now. Might as well help himself to the kitchen. He shuffled quietly there and peeked inside the fridge, horrified once again by the contents. How have these two been keeping alive? The fridge only contained very basic ingredients like eggs and milk, a bottle of soy sauce, and not a single vegetable in sight. 

He settles for making a couple of fried eggs, using them to top off the bowl of instant rice he pilfered from the cupboards. He gives it all a splash of soy sauce so it’s not completely flavorless and sits at the kitchen table, eating his little meal slowly. 

It always seemed like nights were harder for some reason. Like the dark vastness of the sky reminded him of how empty his life had become - of how much he missed his parents. 

He’d seriously lucked out when the two had walked into the shelter all those years ago. He’d been a bit older than the usual desired age for hybrid adoptions so he hadn’t expected much when Heechul had escorted the couple towards the exotic section. He’d stayed in his corner of the room playing his video game, but he’d kept an eye on them as they smiled and shook hands with all the desperate little ones crowding them. They seemed genuinely nice, with smiles that lit up their eyes and the man always making his wife laugh. 

When they finally got close enough, Seokjin greedily scented the air, thinking if he ever had someone pick him he hoped they smelled as good as these two. The man - though obviously old for a human - smelled strong and healthy. Faint hints of cigar smoke and old books clung to him almost as much as his mate’s scent did. And his mate - the wife - smelled exactly how Seokjin had always thought a mother would. A light hint of expensive perfume couldn’t cloud the endorphins that were coming off of her in waves from being surrounded by the little ones. She was older too - perhaps younger than her husband by no more than a handful of years - but she too seemed to be in good health. She smelled so comforting to Seokjin that he stopped paying attention to his game and let his little avatar get killed three times in a row as he glued his eyes on the woman. 

Heechul actually herded the pair towards him and he set down his controller and bowed formally, wanting to make a good impression despite the fact that he knew they would never pick him. He’d thought they’d merely shake his hand and move on, but the man had kept asking him questions about his hobbies and what he wanted to do when he grew up. The woman kept staring at him with her hand held to her chest like she’d been shocked by something. 

It wasn’t until a half-hour later when Heechul had called him into his office with the pair that he realized she’d decided she wanted him. A mere few minutes and she’d decided she was his mother and no one else’s. “You’re so handsome I fell in love at first sight, my Jinnie,” she’d always say. 

He’d had nineteen wonderful years with them before pneumonia took them both within days of each other. Nineteen years filled with happiness and laughter with two of the most loving people he’d ever met. He missed his routines with them - the fishing every weekend with his dad, cooking with his mom, the Sundays all three of them would sit around with face masks and watch movies. 

When they’d passed away, his heart had broken. He’d known it was inevitable - they were both getting old and frail - but he’d thought he’d have just a little more time with them. After the funeral, he waited with bated breath for someone to storm in and drag him off to be put down somewhere. When nothing had happened, he’d grown steadily more careless, often forgetting he wasn’t supposed to be on his own with the big house and vast wealth. He’d carried on with his life like he knew his parents would have wanted him to. He kept going to med school since his dad had pulled so many strings to let him attend, he tried going on dates that never went anywhere, he hung out with his friends whenever he had the time. Life went on. 

Trying to stop the robber had been stupid of him - he knew that now. He should have just let the man get away and then never reported him so he’d be left alone...but once he spied his mother’s favorite pearls in the man’s hand he’d lost his shit. He’d fully shifted, letting his wings out and knocking over a couple of vases with their width, and his nails expanded until finally he’d roared and the robber had screamed and thrown the nearest item at his head in his rush to escape. Unfortunately, that item had been his mother’s bird statue that was made entirely of gold, so he’d been knocked out cold. His friend had found him after he hadn’t shown up to their gaming session and called the police and an ambulance, where they took his blood and found out that he was a hybrid with deceased owners and proceeded to shove him in the nearest pound while they contacted his mother’s very distant cousin. 

He’d never even gotten to meet this so-called cousin before the fat lawyer that smelled like fried chicken rushed him out of his own home, making him leave behind even the belongings that were his. He had no idea what use the cousin had for his manga or video game collection. Let alone the used sports jerseys or his hamper full of dirty clothes. 

Thankfully Heechul existed and he’d been able to contact his old caregiver before he was sent to the state center. He knew that place was a death sentence. And now here he was, in a strange home with barely anything besides his small suitcase. He missed his dad. He missed his mom. He missed feeling loved and hopeful for the future. He missed the way his dad always knew what to do. He missed the way his mom would brush his mane and groom his feathers while she sang. 

Seokjin cleared his throat and swiped at his suddenly wet cheek. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He shook his head and went to the sink to wash his dishes, heading back to his room when he finished for another sleepless night. 

****

Life in the ‘Dragon’s Lair’ (as he’d taken to calling it, despite said dragon’s constant eye-rolling) began to take on a new normal the longer he was there. Days began to blend into each other as he struggled to adjust himself to his new reality, but Namjoon and his mate were a great help. 

Luckily, his tuition had been prepaid by his father and the cousin had no way of taking his education away from him, so he still took his classes - albeit mostly online because he wanted to stay in his room most of the time. 

Money was thankfully of no immediate issue. There was more money in the book than he’d felt comfortable sharing with anyone, enough that he could still go years without a job if he needed to. He also knew that if he needed it, he could always ask Heechul for help, although the other would make him work in the cafe for it. He might do it anyway just for something to do. 

Namjoon and his mate were simply wonderful. His old friend had grown up into a great person who was sweet and intelligent, good to the people he cared about, and strong in ways that he probably wasn’t even aware of. His mate Star was just as good. She was funny and kind, with just enough sass to be interesting. And they were both sickeningly in love with each other to the point that Seokjin had to leave the house quite often to get some peace. Not that it upset him - he was incredibly happy for Namjoon. It just sometimes emphasizes how alone he was. 

But yes, Star was great. There was just...something about her. Something that drew him to her. Not in a sexual or attraction kind of way...more like - primal. Like the animal side of him saw her as a protector. Which, he supposed she kinda was since she was housing exotic hybrids, but still. He couldn’t figure it out. He was certain she was completely human, but sometimes underneath the frankly nauseating amount of reptile musk that she was constantly covered with, he could catch hints of the forest in her natural scent. Sure, there was a forest nearby, but why would the scent cling to her like that? There was something there and luckily for him, there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good riddle. 

Beyond that, there was still one other pressing issue. His mate. 

He knew they were out there. He knew he’d caught their scent. When he’d passed the sea he’d been certain they were there. He just needed to find them. He didn’t want them to be alone too. 

“Jin, we’re about to head to the mall. Do you want to come shopping with us? The weather’s clearing up and I promised Namjoon we’d go to the ocean,” Star asked with a bright smile as he exited his room. 

“The ocean?” he responded, his brain halting for a second. Fate was working her magic, was she? 

“Yeah, he’s been wanting to go for a while but it’s been too cold. I thought we’d rent a small beach house and spend the weekend. So you’ll need swim trunks and towels, stuff like that. If you’d rather stay here, that’s fine too. It’s up to you.” 

“No,” he rushed, feeling his ears go red with embarrassment as he let his eagerness show. “It’s fine. I’d love to go.” 

“Great!” Star grinned, threading an arm with his as she leads him out to the yard. “We’ll have so much fun!” 

He nods silently, his nose trying in vain to catch that salty scent on the air again. 

I’m coming. Just wait for me. 

[flameoutfics]

We’re Only Young and Naive Still Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Nora was scratched against Detroit which wasn’t a surprise. She hadn’t had a stellar debut and she hadn’t curried favor with Sutter, but the press had taken her first game and run with it. Everyone had told her to stay off of the internet and to not read articles about herself, but it was hard to ignore the things that popped up on her Twitter feed. There were already some reporters who asked to interview her and there were even a few names that she recognized and wouldn’t mind interviewing with. She had listened to Steve Dangle’s podcast on her morning commute to college occasionally and thought he’d been fair in his assessments. She didn’t think that he’d take cheap shots at her or try to make her uncomfortable. 

She also knew though that the publicity that was being offered to her was something that some athletes worked their entire lives for. Maybe if it was different, if she was naturally talented in the way that Sidney Crosby or Connor McDavid were, the attention would be warranted, but she was just a novelty. So for the moment, Nora politely declined the interviews with the canned rejection that she wanted to focus on contributing to the team and that she would consider at a later time. 

She was on the practice squad for the scrimmage before the game clad in a white jersey with some of the other two-way players skating on the ice against the permanent Flames and halfway through practice, she was already exhausted and soaked in sweat. “Tired, Hallisay?” 

“I’m fine,” Nora said and skated back to the ice with renewed resolve. 

“Take the face off,” Sutter yelled and Nora paired off against Matthew Tkachuk. Off ice he was just aloof but on ice, he was ferocious. He was the type of player that teams hated playing against and everyone wanted on their team. He glared at her from across the face-off circle, his cold, blue eyes almost wild as their coach approached them with the puck. Nora reacted just a split second faster to pass the puck over to Jusso for the break-away. The play was called off and everyone reset with new players at the face-off.

“Lucky,” Matthew said.

“Had nothing to do with luck,” Nora replied. 

“It won’t happen again,” Matthew said, but there was a lightness in his voice. 

“We’ll see,” Nora said, knowing that the odds of her squaring off against Matthew would be few and far in between. She was a fourth-liner at best; he was on the first line. As practice wrapped up, Nora skated to the bench and grabbed some Gatorade. Some of the guys headed straight to the locker room, but Nora lingered rink side. 

“You coming?” one of the trainers asked.

“I’m going to stick around here a little longer,” Nora said, “I want to get in a little more practice.”

“They won’t let you stay too long,” the trainer warned.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Nora said. She skated back on the ice and worked on puck-handling drills. She wished she had the hands of Pavel Datsyuk, but she didn’t. It was never her strong suit on the ice. 

“Move your top hand more, it’ll give you better control” a voice called behind the bench. 

Nora stopped for a moment and glanced over to where the voice was coming from. A small group of players, already showered and changed, watched. 

“Move your hand more,” Matthew repeated, gesturing with his own hand.

Nora shifted her hands to match his, “Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s what they teach you when you’re eight,” Matthew said. 

Nora saw red. Matthew could fuck off. “Well, we don’t all have dads who can get us on the best junior teams.”

A couple of the guys chuckled, but Matthew’s jaw clenched and his face turned red. Nora felt her stomach sink as the barb landed exactly where she anticipated. If things were different, Nora would have been contrite and even as it was, she didn’t like to be the type of person that made other people feel bad, but she wasn’t just going to roll over and take it either. She knew she didn’t have the same hockey knowledge that the other players did. They had had some of the best coaches, had had the time to play for hours after school, and had had opportunities that she couldn’t have dreamed of. So yeah, they didn’t have the same background, but she had worked her way to where she was, and she deserved to be there no matter what anyone else said. 

After they left, she redid the drill following Matthew’s advice. It was better; he was right. Nora gritted her teeth and did it again and again, adjusting her grip when she noticed herself slipping into her old routine. “Fuck,” Nora murmured. 

“You have to go,” the zamboni driver said as he waited for her to get off the ice.  

“Sorry,” Nora said sheepishly and skated towards the locker room. Everyone was already gone by the time she was ready to leave the rink. 

She pulled out her phone and followed the map back to the hotel. A few blocks away from the hotel, a text message popped up on her phone. 

From Liam: Congrats on your debut. 

Nora smiled and pocketed her phone away to respond to him later. She made a mental note to text him back later. 

“A few of us are playing FIFA later, if you want to join?” Mikael said as he caught her coming out of the elevator.

Nora smiled slightly, grateful for the invitation, “Whose room?” 

“Don’t know yet, but it’ll be in the group chat.”

“I’ll be there,” Nora promised. She headed to her room, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled up the text that Liam had sent her. Thanks, you watched?

Liam’s response was almost immediate: I saw the highlights. How are things with the team? 

Nora wanted to tell him everything, she wanted to say how hard it was, how Sutter didn’t want her there, and the team didn’t want her there, and how all she wanted to do was go home. But she didn’t. Instead she typed out, I kind of fucked up with a teammate today. 

Liam wrote back, You’ll make the right decision, you always do.

Nora sighed. 

As promised, the open invitation in the group chat said they were planning on playing FIFA in Rasmus’s room in fifteen minutes and Nora showed up just a few minutes afterwards. 

“Are you any good?” Milan asked.

“I’m horrible at video games,” Nora said. 

“You’re on their team, then,” Milan said as he nodded over to the other half of the room.

Nora glanced over at Matthew who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, still looking as pissed off as he had at the rink. 

“I think I’m gonna leave,” Matthew said, despite protests from their teammates. Nora couldn’t help but feel as though it was a reaction to her joining, a remnant from their fight at the rink. 

She remembered what Liam had sent her, “You’ll make the right decision, you always do,” and she knew what she’d have to do.  

After a few rounds of watching them play FIFA, Nora stood up to leave. 

“You know where Matthew’s room is?” she asked Elias as a new game was getting set up.

“I think he’s 219,” Elias replied. 

“Thanks.”

Nora talked herself into going over to Matthew’s room. She sighed and knocked on the door, hoping that he would already be asleep or in the shower. Instead, though, Matthew opened the door and glared at her. 

“Can we talk?” Nora asked. Matthew didn’t answer, but instead pushed the door open and made way for her to come in. 

“I’m sorry, for what I said at the rink. That wasn’t fair and it wasn’t true. You worked hard to be here and it wasn’t right for me to imply that it was because of who your father is or who your family is, so I’m sorry about it. And...you were right,” Nora said, “About my hands, it’s better your way.”

There was a long pause, “This is where you would usually apologize, too.”

“Why should I? I was just trying to help,” Matthew said. 

“No, you weren’t,” Nora said, “You were trying to humiliate me.”

“What’s your problem?” Matthew said, “Why do you think we’re all out to get you or something?”

Nora paused for a moment, “I know you don’t want me here. I know most of the guys don’t want me here, and that’s fine, but it’s hard not to think that way when you know otherwise.”

“What do you mean we don’t want you here?” Matthew asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Did someone say something?” 

Nora pulled out her phone and scrolled through the group chat to the incriminating messages, “You did.” She held out the phone for Matthew to read the messages. 

His eyes widened in recognition and he went to apologize, but Nora held out her hand, “Don’t. It is what it is, but I know, so don’t play dumb. And I don’t expect us to be friends or even like each other, I don’t care about that, but I deserved better than that and I don’t deserve the type of comments that you made at practice either.”

Matthew didn’t say anything and to be honest, Nora wasn’t sure if there was anything left to clear the air, “See you tomorrow then.”

She headed back to her room and saw another message from Liam, Do you need to talk?

No, I’m good, but thanks, good night Li.

Nora had woken up before they were scheduled for breakfast and she looked on her phone for a local coffee shop to try before they were set to leave Detroit. She headed to a small, locally owned one just a few blocks from the hotel that they had passed in transit and ordered a vanilla latte. She grabbed a table towards the back and pulled up some of the NHL highlights 

“Can I join you?” A familiar voice asked and Nora glanced up to find Matthew Tkachuk awkwardly standing in front of her with a cup of coffee. 

“Were you following me?” Nora asked. 

“No, yes, but I was hoping we could talk,” Matthew said. 

“I don’t think there’s anything more to say,” Nora said, “I said everything I wanted to last night.”

“I didn’t,” Matthew said, “Can I?” he gestured to the empty chair across from her and Nora shrugged. 

“Is this a conversation that we should have here?” Nora asked.

“There aren’t too many people here and it’s better here than in the hotel, I guess,” Matthew said. 

“Okay,” Nora said. 

“I’m sorry for what I said at the rink yesterday and, more importantly, for what you saw in the group chat,” Matthew said, “You were right, you didn’t deserve that and we should have made more of an effort to make you feel welcome and to treat you like one of the guys.”

“I’m not one of ‘the guys’, though, and I’m not trying to be,” Nora said, “Things are different with me and I can’t help that.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that,” Matthew said. 

“I know how you meant it,” Nora said, “And I appreciate your apology.”

Matthew outstretched his hand, “Let’s start over?” 

Nora eyed up his hand, but shook it, “Sure. We better start heading back to the hotel anyways.” 

“What are you drinking by the way?” Matthew asked.

“A vanilla latte,” Nora said, “Why?” 

“In case I need to know for future apologies,” Matthew said. 

“Let’s hope not,” Nora said with a small smile.

[yuta-nakamots]

we go up - l.mk

Pairing - Mark x Reader

Genre - Fluff, College!AU

Warnings - one single mention of sex but no descriptions of it

Summary - Growing up was a part of life. Though you were scared of all that the future holds, you looked forward to going through it all with Mark right by your side.

Word Count - 4.2k

A/N - this was supposed to be released 4 days ago ahaha I passed all my classes so that’s really what matters. anyways, here’s this fic to celebrate Milly’s 3 years on Tumblr and 5 years for me and my blog

Written for the Moodboard Collab hosted by @bumblebeenct​​. Also part of the Neowinter Festival hosted by @czennienet.

Song: We Go Up. Color Set: #1.

Never would you have thought that you’d be on the path to living in the real world so soon. Summers were for relaxing and having fun but you’ll never regret jumping at the opportunity to travel the world with Mark Lee instead.

Mark’s parents were executives for a travelling company that offered a variety of trips all over the world. You knew it was part of their job to visit those countries and survey the different options available and put together plans based on them but with Mark having just graduated from college and you going into your final year, it was soon to be a job shared by both of you as well.

It hasn’t been long since you first began dating him, in fact, it hadn’t been long since you first met him on your first day on campus. Both of you were moving in on the same day and crossed paths as you were lugging your two loaded suitcases in through the main entrance of the dormitory. Your family hadn’t come with you, putting their faith in you to make it to your school on your own, so you could only guess how pitiful you must’ve looked to others.

“Hey those look pretty heavy, I can help you with that if you’d like,” you looked up to find the owner of the voice and were met by a handsome boy with a smile you’d never forget, “my name is Mark, by the way.”

“Uh, y/n, nice to meet you and yeah, actually, if you could take this one it would help me so much.” You told him as you pulled up the smaller of the two suitcases.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take the larger one? I can handle it.” He looked at you with eyes full of interest, his pupils almost resembling boba thanks to the odd lighting in the hall.

You shook your head before turning to head to the elevator, “I only just met you, I wouldn’t make you do this. Besides, it’s not even that much heavier than the other one.”

“Alright, whatever you say. What floor are you on though? I can help you move in if you don’t have anyone else.” He offered kindly.

“I’m on the third floor,” you informed him, “but don’t you have somewhere to be? You couldn’t have just been sitting around in the lobby.”

You say his expression morph into one of panic before quickly relaxing, “oh, I was just on my way to the university center to pick up my keys and get my mail. Gosh, you made me think I was late to something important.” The laugh he let out was so full and loud, it felt as if it were reaching out to you.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything else you should be doing?” You question as you pressed the button for the elevator. “I’d hate to be the reason why you missed a meeting or something.”

Mark pulled out his phone as both of you waited for the elevator. “No, I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything else planned for today. I just had to move in earlier and that’s it, I don’t have any solid plans.” The doors opened and let out a few other people, who you guessed were also students, before you and Mark stepped in.

“I just met you though,” you pointed out, “how do I know that you’re not some weirdo that’s gonna try steal my stuff?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Really? I mean, not like in a bad way ‘really’ but I can promise you that I’m not trying to do anything bad.”

You hummed in mock sarcasm, “mmhmm, that’s what they all say.”

“If you don’t believe me I’ll give you my number if you want or like my room number, even-”

“Mark I was just joking dude.” You laughed, amused by how gullible the boy was.

“Oh…” he breathed, relief settling over him as the doors opened up to the third floor, “but can I still get your number though?”

“Beat me to my room and I’ll think about it.” You took off running in a random direction, unsure which way you were even supposed to go in.

Mark followed close behind, “wait but I don’t even know which room number to look for!”

“Maybe that’s the point!” You shout back.

continue as always, wild and free

Though he did not make it to your room before you, you still gave him your phone number to thank him for helping you with your luggage. Mark was kind enough to stay and help you unpack your things and get your room set up. He even accompanied you to get dinner from the cafeteria since it was already getting late by the time the two of you finished unloading everything.

Over the next few days before classes, you hung out with Mark and any other freshmen that you happened to run into. You found out that Mark was a business major and planned to minor in tourism industry management. As for you, your major was biology with a focus in ecology.

Mark seemed to love sharing about himself as seen from the way he eagerly told you about the company his parents worked for and how he was interested in someday becoming a part of it which was why he chose his intended path of study. You had come in the college with the intent of wanting to make a difference in the world and help tackle one of the biggest global issues, which is climate change, leading you to your chosen track.

Mark was a great listener and seemed genuinely interested in everything you had to say. If he thought anything was lame or dumb, he hid it very well because he seemed to be picking up all the information you put down. You had come in knowing that most people in large corporations didn’t think much about the environment. Either Mark was faking it to keep his new friendship with you or he genuinely held the same beliefs as you. You chose to believe it was the latter.

All throughout your first year in college together you and Mark stuck together, always preferring each others company, even within the large group of friends you managed to accumulate with him. Luckily he was only one floor above you so he wasn’t far away at all. If you ever needed anything, he really was ‘one call away’ and would come running even if it was just to catch a bug in your room.

Freshmen year came and went, both you and Mark went back home for summer vacation and came back to campus as sophomores. You both kept in touch and regularly updated each other on things like Mark’s trip to Britain with his parents. That was the first real glimpse you had into his dreams and goals for his future. Meanwhile you just ranted to him about all the terrible customers that came in at your part-time job, though he didn’t seem to mind at all and always offered you his company.

Sophomore year was when he asked you to be his girlfriend. After the two of you had eaten dinner together as usual and were walking back to the dorms, that was when he had finally made a move. “So, uh, I know this may be kind of sudden but I actually really like you.” He told you.

You looked up at him as you continued walking next to him. “And in what way, exactly?”

“In a ‘I like you as more than just a friend’ kind of way.” He replied, looking down at the leaf-covered sidewalk.

“Well lucky for you, I might just like you in the same way.” Mark’s head shot up and his eyes met yours.

He blinked rapidly and his gaze never left yours, as if searching for the truth. “Wait, like really?”

“Yes, really.” You pulled him closer to you so he wouldn’t walk right into the tree that was coming up.

“Does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” He asked after mumbling a quick ‘thank you’.

You stopped walking and turned to face him. “If you ask properly then I don’t see why not.”

“Oh, uh,” his eyes flitted left to right before finally settling on yours, “will you be my girlfriend?”

“No.” You tried to hold your laughter in the way his eyes widened but you just couldn’t. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend you stupid! I didn’t say all of that for nothing, oh my gosh you really are so gullible.”

Mark’s mouth opened slightly before he closed it again and then burst out going “don’t do that to me for crying out loud! You don’t even know how I was actually about to cry if you said no just now.”

You grabbed his hand and quickly interlaced your fingers with his. “There, I’m sorry. Do you feel better now? Do you want me to kiss you to make you feel better?”

“Uh, yes? To both?” He spoke, still shaken from earlier.

You raised his hand to your lips, kissing that back of his hand with a smile. “Thank you for choosing me.”

i’m gonna try flying a little further

Things continued on in this way in your relationship, always keeping things lighthearted and never too serious. Thankfully both of you had past dating experience and weren’t completely clueless on how to act toward each other. One thing led to the next and you had your first kiss with him the day he was leaving to go home for winter break. “I love you, stay safe, don’t die.” You called out to him as he got into his uber.

“Got it babes, love you too.” He sent you a kiss before shutting the door which you happily caught and held to your heart.

It was during that break that the two of you told your parents about each other and things went surprisingly smooth of both ends. Mark had even informed you that his parents were interested in meeting you after he told them about your field of study. “Yeah they were so intrigued by it! They’ve been looking into more sustainable and eco-friendly options for a while now so I think this must’ve struck a chord with them.” He chattered excitedly over the phone.

“Dude, don’t make me even more nervous about meeting them-”

“Hold up, did you just call me dude?” He questioned.

“It’s not like you don’t call me dude as well.” You commented.

Mark let out a laugh on his end. “Alright, fair enough. But not to alarm you or anything, but they said that I could bring you along for one of our trips during summer if you’re down.”

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, seriously,” he confirmed, amused at your enthusiasm, “should I tell them that you’re interested?”

“Mark is that even a question? Of course I’m interested.” Your excitement was almost bubbling over from the way everything seemed to be working in favor of you and Mark.

The next summer, you did indeed tag along with Mark and his parents to who were more than happy to meet you and share information on their company while visiting Nevada. Mark wasn’t lying when he said that you interests ‘struck a chord’ with them. Sometimes it seemed like you were more like their child than he was with how much his parents talked with you about possible green options to inquire for. It was thanks to them that you decided to minor in tourism industry management like Mark, even though it would set you behind one year in graduation.

Going into your junior year, you were able to put together a small scrapbook of sorts with all the pictures from the trip to Nevada and gave it to Mark to celebrate your one year anniversary. “Wait, when did you even take that picture of me though?” He asked while looking at the picture of him spread out on a hotel bed like a starfish.

“You smacked me with your arm so I woke up and it was like, seven in the morning so I decided to just fool around and take pictures of you,” you explained with a smile on your face, “if you look in that bottom corner, you can see my foot because I had to stand over you but not too closely so my legs were like a triangle over you.”

Mark shook his head as he laughed at your antics before gently closing the book. “I love you, you know that right?” He placed a kiss on your cheek and sat back to adore you with his eyes practically sparkling.

“How could I not? I’d be worried that you may not know that I love you.” You told him playfully, setting the scrapbook aside and straddling his lap.

“Baby, that’s the last thing you need to worry about.” His voice fell into its lower ranges as he began kissing you in a way he never has before. It was on that night, the night of your first anniversary that the two of you made love for the first time in your shared campus apartment.

make me beautiful in the memories

When you brought Mark home for the holidays, your family was more than thrilled to meet him and you thanked whatever supreme being existed out there for blessing you with him. He got along well with your parents and even became a favorite of all the younger kids, especially when he joined them in making a snowman out in front of your house.

“Look y/n! Marky helped us start building a snowman!” Your younger sister exclaimed before running off once again to join some of your cousins.

You watched as Mark helped them roll the largest ball of snow around the yard until it was at least a third of his height. “Come join us y/n!” He called out. “You can get the rocks and sticks to make his arms and face.”

One of your younger cousins came by to join you as you sifted through the snow to find nice rocks to use. “When are you and Marky getting married?” He asked.

“Married? We’ve only been together for a year.” You told the little boy.

“Oh, hmm, well it’s never too early to start thinking.” He decided before finding a cute little stick that he deemed fit to function as a nose for the snowman.

You joined Mark in rolling the second ball of snow while the kids made the last one. “So what was that I heard about getting married?” He questioned.

Suddenly your cheeks felt warm and your eyes darted away from him and back to the mound of snow in front of you. “Uh, nothing, one of the kids just was asking if we plan on getting married.”

“He’s right, you know,” Mark spoke quietly, “it’s never too early to start thinking about it.”

“I mean, we’re still so young though.” You told him.

“That doens’t mean I don’t see myself having a future with you.” Mark commented as he picked up the ball of compacted snow.

“Gosh, you’re so chessy. What next? Names for our kids?” You joke as you watch him place the ball on top of the largest one at his knees.

He winked at you once the snowman had his torso complete. “Already on it.”

Spring semester was spent planning for Mark’s graduation in the following year and getting the classes for your minor arranged. His parents invited you to go with them to Hawai’i which you politely declined, as you did not know much about the people and culture and did not have time to accurately research before going thanks to all the summer classes you were taking to ensure that you’d graduate on time.

You and Mark decided to live off campus for his last year in college and though it was inconvenient to have to cook your own meals and walk a little bit further to get to school, it was all worth it when you got to make the memories you did with him.

“So you just crack the egg and drop it in the pan?” He hesitated, the said egg hovering over the edge of the frying pan.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Mark, how many times do I have to tell you? You just crack it and let it fall into the pan. It’s not that hard.”

He mocked your expression after you said ‘it’s not that hard’ as he cracked the egg into the pan, yelping at the way the oil splashed up at him. You left to freshen up a bit, having been woken up by the ruckus Mark had made in the kitchen only to come back five minutes later to another bout of him yelling for help. “What now?”

“I, uhh, I think I burned the egg.” His face was tinged with shame as you came over to the stove, sliding the egg in question onto a plate before lifting its side to see that it was indeed burnt.

“I don’t know how you manage to burn an egg after I leave you for such a short amount of time.” You tell him as you pull another one out from the refrigerator. “Here, try again. You’re lucky it’s the weekend.”

“You’re not gonna let me stop until I’ve successfully cooked an egg, huh?” You shook your head to answer his question, causing Mark to let out a sigh before going to add a little more oil to the pan.

look time fly, we fly, changes come with time

Days like that were normal for the two of you, though more often than not, you chose to order food since Mark was clearly not very trustworthy in the kitchen and you weren’t all that better yourself.

Living with Mark was not always happy and fun, though. Sometimes the two of you fought and sometimes it was over the smallest things like how he didn’t put his clothes into his hamper after changing out of them or how you’d leave your belongings strewn about the apartment.

Being with him taught you that a relationship is a two-way thing. Everyone has their flaws and if you truly love someone, you’ll learn to work with them to get solve problems that arise or get around them.

Getting to live with Mark and see him everyday was certainly a lot more convenient, especially when both of you were swamped with finals and had little to no time to go out on an actual date. Falling asleep in each others arms and waking up to the sight of the other was enough for those times. In those mornings where you woke up before Mark and didn’t want to get out of bed just yet, you took the time to be thankful for the path of life you were on and how thankful you were to have met the boy in front of you.

It was moments like those that made it all worth it.

When Mark graduated in the following spring, you sat in the crowd alongside his parents, watching him and your past classmates walk across the stage and receive their diplomas.

“Ah, he looks just the same as when he graduated from high school.” His mother commented. She even pulled up his old pictures and showed them to you, making you laugh at how cute he was back then. You could hear his voice in your head, whining about how he’s not cute but you paid it no mind.

The rush of emotion you felt when the name ‘Mark Lee’ was called and he stepped out in his cap and gown was truly something else. You stood up and cheered alongside the rest of his friends who were seated around you, the bunch of you only getting louder when his head jerked in your direction and he smiled and waved to you all.

the reason why i can be fearless is because you’re looking at me with your two eyes

“That’s going to be you next year, you know.” Mark’s father stated nodding over to where Mark was playfully chest-bumping his fellow graduates. “Okay, well not like that, but you know what I mean.”

You let out a laugh as you watched Mark stumble and nearly fall. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Do you have any plans for summer, dear?” His mother inquired.

“I have a few classes from June through July but I believe I do not have anything for the latter half of June until school starts again in August.” You informed her.

“Would you like to come along with us to Paris then? We missed you greatly last year and felt you would have enjoyed the experience more than Mark did.” She explained as she pulled up more pictures of Mark though this time it was him in a botanically garden getting scared from all the bugs. “I’ll send this one to you.”

You thanked her with a smile on your face and graciously accepted her offer to travel with them to Paris. Mark was over the moon when he heard that you’d be going with them, especially since this was going to be the first time he’d be allowed to lead the meetings and events.

It felt like school hadn’t even finished from the way you went right back to work for your summer courses and Mark got to putting together his first few projects for the company. He was intent on showing the executives that he was a fully capable individual and was not trying to simple ride off of his parents achievements. You were proud of him for that.

By the time you all got to Paris, it felt like a much needed breath of fresh air from the constant hustle of school and work. One of the first places Mark took you to was one of the local night markets near the hotel you were staying at. You pulled out your light blue polaroid camera which Mark had gotten awfully used to within these past few years and took multiple pictures of him eating street food and walking around under the stringed lights.

i need you right here

“Oh, that fountain looks kinda cool.” He exclaimed, walking out of frame.

“Mark you can’t just do that when I’m about to take your pict-”

“Yeah yeah, you can take pictures here instead. It looks prettier.” You both paused to admire the sculpting of the stone and the way the water and the coins at the bottom of the fountain glittered under the night lights. Mark sat down at the edge of the fountain after a bit. “Here, you can take them now.”

You took a few before handing of the camera to him so he could take a few of you. “Have you ever thought that this is where we’d be after all this time?” He asked after giving the camera back to you and joining you next to the fountain. “Like, back when we were freshmen, we didn’t know where we’d be within the next few years and here we are, together, three years later.”

“I think you’re jet-lagged, babe, but yeah I see what you mean.” You agreed, falling into the rhythm of the way the water spilled over from the top tier into the lower ones and out from there into the base at the bottom. “We went from clueless freshmen to young adults breaking out into the real world.”

You watched as Mark dug around in his pocket, pulling out a single coin and enclosing it in a fist. “I wish for things to stay the same- no, for us to- wait, no, I wish for us to remain happy together while facing all the challenges that our lives have to offer us.” With that, he tossed the coin into the fountain and you both followed it as it sunk to the floor.

He pulled another coin out and offered it to you. “I wish…” you began, trailing off as you thought of what more you could possibly say, “I wish for us to stay together for as long as time allows and that we will get to watch each other grow and fulfill whatever plans that life has for us.”

As your coin hit the bottom, Mark pulled you in for a hug. “I really do love you, you know.”

“Yeah I know.” You hugged him back, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“Look at me, babe.” He whispered, causing you to glance up at him. Whatever you were about to say was cut off by Mark’s lips against yours.

It felt like nothing else mattered at that moment. Nothing except your lips against his, his arms around you, your hearts and souls connecting as one.

we go up

[unlucky-rubber-ducky]

Nightmares

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

1300 words

Summary/warnings: Really rather sad, nightmares, mentions of earth but no actual death. Super cheesy. It’s late. Sappy ending. Super rushed.

A/N: Hello! I was just kind of messing around with this one. It’s not perfect but it’s always fun to write nightmares. School has also been wild, so I hope you can forgive the long periods of time between posting. A final ‘also’, please always feel free to request something! Thank you so much for reading!

You had never heard the temple so… silent. It was so silent. No masters quietly chiding their padawans, no younglings giggling as they made their way to their next class, no knights celebrating a successful mission. Nothing. Silence. 

Jedi lined the halls, creating a path and watching you as you walked by. You soon recognized the twists and turns were leading you to the council chambers, and the dread that had been creeping up on you fell like a rock in your stomach. 

You could see the door to the council at the end of the hallway, and you were screaming at your legs to stop, to turn around, to slow down- anything to delay whatever was going to happen once you entered that room. As you neared, you recognized the two figures standing guard at the door.

In Anakin’s eyes there was a fury you had only seen on the battlefield, directed at droids and enemy soldiers. But now the blazing fire was focused on you, and you were sure that if he could get away with it, you would be lying dead on the floor. His padawan stood next to him, deep disappointment and almost loathing in her eyes- ice, to contrast her master’s fire.

“What have you done?”

For a moment you didn’t recognize the voice that echoed through the silent halls of the temple. It sounded more vindictive than anything you had ever encountered, and you wondered how that much hatred could be stored in a person. 

“You will suffer.” Oh. You knew that voice. You spoke with it every day. “Greatly.”

The door whooshed open, and you were stepping into the council chambers.

You refused to meet any eyes, instead focusing on the singular empty chair. The chair usually filled by the one man you wished was present.

“Knight (Y/n). You have been charged with treason against the Galactic Republic, and the murder of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. How do you plead?”

If you hadn’t fallen in love with him he would still be alive. If you had never started this tryst he would still be alive. If you had loved him enough to leave he would still be alive. His death is your fault. You knew this could only end in tragedy.

You took a breath.

“Guilty.”

You gasped as you sat up. You tried to control your breathing, but tears quickly began rolling down your face. Soon you were sobbing, the terrible, guilty feeling in your chest refusing to accept that it was just a dream. Before your brain could catch up you were already out the door, darting the short distance from your quarters to Obi-Wan’s. You had to make sure he was alright. That he didn’t hate you. You didn’t even consider the fact that knocking on someone’s door at one in the morning wasn’t exactly couth.

Of course, that all came rushing back when he opened the door with a confused, sleepy expression and no shirt.

“I-I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have-”

“Were you crying?”

“I…” You tried to calm yourself as another wave of tears made their way down your face. Maker, why had you done this to yourself? It wasn’t like this was the first dream you had ever had, since the Clone Wars started it was only one of many- why was it this one that sent you crying and knocking on Obi-wan’s door? “I’m fine. I apologize for waking you, Obi-Wan.”

Before you could turn away, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his quarters. You protested as he sat you on the end of his bed, moving towards the kitchenette to get you a glass of water. You accepted with a watery smile.

“Now, darling, would you like to talk about why you were crying or watch a cheesy holodrama?” He smiled when you laughed just a little. “Ahsoka tells me the best ones play after midnight.”

His heart broke when you looked up at him from the cup in your hands. You looked so… lost. So sad and lost and desperate for comfort that you refused to ask for.

“Um, could we watch something? Or you can go back to bed, and I can leave, I just don’t want to be alone but I could probably go bother-”

“I promise that you are welcome here. Let’s see what’s on.”

You ended up settling on a reality show titled ‘The Real Smugglers of the Outer Rim’, it was dumb and required quite literally no critical thinking skills, which was exactly what you were looking for. His bed was small enough that your legs were pressed together, and you were painfully aware that Obi-Wan had yet to put a shirt on.

“I had a nightmare.”

“I understand. What took place?”

“I…” What could you say? I dreamt that my very real love for you somehow got you killed? That would be a lot to deal with. “I dreamt that you had died.”

You heard him take in a breath.

“I didn’t realize my death would distress you so.”

You turned to look at him, startled just a little when you met his eye.

“Obi-Wan. You’re not dumb.” His face went through multiple emotions in the span of seconds, and you turned your whole body to face him, suddenly itching to run away. Obi-Wan wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were telling him. In your own emotionally-repressed-Jedi-way, you were admitting feelings that you truly shouldn’t be admitting.

Your heart dropped for the second time that night. This was your dream. This was his downfall. Your downfall. How could you have walked into the exact situation your dream had just warned you about?

You jumped off of the bed, ripping yourself away from Obi-Wan, who looked even more startled than you. You couldn’t exactly blame him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just… I really shouldn’t have come. This was terrible. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you sleep. I can’t… I’m sorry for putting that on you.”

“Do you have… feelings for me, darling?”

“I- I don’t think-”

“Please.”

Oh, Maker. Your eyes filled with tears yet again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Please sit back down.” You tentatively sat on the edge of the bed, staying as far away from Obi-Wan as you could. “You likely know I… return your feelings, yes?”

You weren’t sure your heart could take any more.

“I honestly had no clue.”

“Oh.” Obi-wan blushed. “Anakin said it was obvious.”

“Obi-Wan.” His expression was serious again. “In my dream you died because I let myself care for you.”

“My dear, I…” He slowly raised his hands to cup your face, giving you every chance to back away. “I would much sooner die because you cared, than die knowing I could have loved you.” You placed your hands over his, pressing your face closer to his calloused hands. “Plus, not every dream is a vision from the future.”

You shared a soft smile. Obi-Wan was the first to break eye contact, glancing down at your lips in a silent question. You answered by leaning in and pressing your lips to his. You felt him smile into the kiss, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“Can I stay here for the night?”

“Of course you can, precious one.”

You moved to lay next to him in your previous position, but he easily pulled you up and on top of him. You giggled and rested your head on his chest, calm for the first time since you first woke up. You traced the light freckles that were dotted on his skin, almost in disbelief that the night had turned out this way.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

He began running his fingers through your hair.

“I promise, my love.”

[weepinglevi]

whos your favorite fic writer/moots and why? Got any recommendations?

first off: pls know that if you're not listed here it doesn't mean i don't like you or your work, it simply means that i have a pea sized brain. love all of u. keep on writing. i really don't want anyone to feel bad (ask nia, i've been crying to her about it).

secondly: i'm not referring to them as my "favourite" cos i can't pick favourites, never really could. maybe that's why i'm simping for so many aot men at once ahaha.

and last but not least: this is going to be a long post so i'mma do all of us the favour and put it under the cut. i feel very soft today and have been listening to the titanic soundtrack for the better half of my day. bear with me, i'mma shower you with love. go check them out!

CHECK THE DNI TAGS ON THESE BLOGS BEFORE READING OR FOLLOWING, PLEASE!

this is in no particular order.

@kojinnie: my queen of angst. the other half of the princess-duo (i came to the conclusion that we're both princesses, we deserve to hang around in pretty dresses and have the time of our lives). especially dream me home still haunts my dreams. i love how you captured the pain and fear both of them feel. and i kind of view it as the start of our friendship, what with both of us writing about the mission to retake wall maria and you jumping into my dms after the fact. love you, kojin, and i only wish you the best.

@starrynightlys: shield-maiden claire. beautiful, talented, funny claire. i love you and i am so happy to have found you here, i really am. i know i've told you this multiple times but whenever i see you on my dash - either fighting off the floch anon or you posting memes, there's a big fat grin on my face. apart from your absolutely mesmerising presence, there's also one work in particular i always come back to: the beginning of forever. you are my source of happy levi content. when the world turns dark and i want him to be happy, i turn to this fic and to your blog in general. love you and i am dreaming of us listening to some good music in a park sometime soon!

@snkslush: luv! my first tumblr wife! this alone has gotten you a very special place in my heart ahah. i love the energy you have - whenever i see you on my dash i feel happy and it's because of how you interact with others. it's like i've known you since forever because of how easily i can talk to you. and reading your filthy thoughts about connie has set off my connie brainrot more than once ahaha.

your headcanons on how the aot boys react when their s/o tells them they want to be railed and also the follow-up still has me drooling. fucking love them. so accurate as well and i'm a slut for everyone ahha

@aotwrites: my lil sunflower. lil sis, you have no idea how happy you truly make me. i love the lil talks we have and i still remember the message you sent me when you were half-asleep, i always giggle when reading it ahah. just know that if you ever want, you can come up to me and ask me weird stuff lil sisters normally ask their bigger sisters. not that i have any good advice to give, but i have a lot of reaction pics to send!

it's very hard for me to pick out one of your fics to recommend - like i said, i have a problem with choosing favourites. but if i absolutely had to, it'd be all of the stars. cried my way through it. will cry again when i reread it. i cry a lot in general.

@arumiee: mars, i know we haven't talked much but our conversation about nurse!armin yesterday is still running around in my head. i can't wait to read about either armin or eren in scrubs, istg. you're so kind and happy-go-lucky, i usually feel nervous when tagging someone on a post but with you yesterday? no problem at all. you give me a sense of safety ahaha (pls don't think i'm weird, i'm actually not. or, yes, i am but in a good way). your purify me had me wanting to take a bath in holy water after reading it. preferably a bath with eren. i guess we're both headed to hell ahaha

@odmlevis: rizrizrizrizriz. i'm laughing right now because all i think of is our last conversation and it's hard to gather my thoughts whenever my mind goes to eren and reiner. or eren and jean - or jean and connie ahaha. i'll have all of them with me in the middle, pretty please.

but back to topic: your the most hurtful things they'd say to you still has my heart breaking. absolutely broken into pieces. because somehow you managed to put all of my worst fears into it. i don't know why i reread it on the regular (i do know, i'm a sucker for pain). other than that, i'm always so happy when i read your messages and when i see you out and about, making others happy with your lil "someone told me to tell you something"-thing you do so often. you're so precious, lemme smooch you.

@onyxoverride: onyx istg your blog is the place i go to if i am down bad. down bad bad. i know we rarely talk and me saying your blog is the place i take my horniness to might come off as weird but it's the truth. i even have problems with picking a favourite because goddamn they're all so good?? what is your secret? if there's a reason for me to go to hell (other than mars' purify me) it's gonna be because of ocean spit. do i have to elaborate further? eren's titan form is fucking hot and thank you for this delicious meal ahha. i am getting all flustered rn just by looking at the lil pic on top of your fic. i will see myself out now. love u onyx you are cool as hell (and i'm nervous as fuck - you're sitting at the cool kids' table in my head ahah - that's why i am so silent around u)

@1252291: and now to you. connie 2 my sasha. erwin smiths ball whore. twIN FLAME, LIGHT OF MY LIFE. buckle up cos we're in for a wild ride. i was debating whether or not to post every of your fics here, because i love all of them so much. i came up with a better idea tho: here's your masterlist. i will talk about two of your works in particular later on, but first you're gonna have to endure me violently showering you with kisses and love.

i haven't told you this before (shocking, i know) but ever since we started talking, i feel like i have a real-life friend again. i haven't had friends in a while and i am so fucking thankful to have you. i really am. i even told my therapist about you because he asked why i am so happy all of a sudden? newsflash: it's because of you.

usually, it was insomnia keeping me up at night but now it's because i am talking to you. and you have no idea how fucking great it feels to wake up in the morning and feel tired; not because some shitty thoughts kept me awake but because i was talking to a friend. i will forever love you for this. you've been there when i was at one of the darkest and loneliest stages of my life and lit up the fucking room with your personality and humour. thank you for being my light. for giving me the same feeling i have when rewatching lord of the rings. for being you. i will stop now but you know i will keep on loving you on main until i take my last breath.

now to your works. falling in love and stay forever. i think you already knew that these are the ones i hold dearest. i still think about felix and rue. i love felix and rue and my heart hurts when thinking of them. your way with words has characters coming to life and touching your heart in a way i've never experienced before. like i said, it felt like those are my friend who died. my fingers running through levi's hair, trying to make his endless pain go away. i am crying again. thank you for creating this. if you ever find the books you've written (or write a new one) i will buy a copy. or ten. have to have some to give away so i can promote your work.

i love u connie 2 my sasha. i really do.

[gallavictorious]

Mickey Milkovich is Dead (and also a magpie)

You ever think about Mickey as a magpie? No? Well, if you wanna, read on –

Say Mickey gets hit by a car and dies somewhere between 1x03 and 1x07 (NO DO NOT WORRY THIS IS NOT SAD AT ALL I PROMISE). Say he comes before this deity / spirit / what-have-you who declares that Mickey has been a bit not good in life and is about to be sent something unpleasant but he’s so very young and also they can see that he has the potential for goodness so he’s going to get a chance to learn to…learn to love? Care for others? Embrace his true nature? Something like that. Anyway, as a test, his soul is being put into the body of a magpie for the duration of one month and during that time he is required to take care of and protect the person who was supposed to be his one true great love, Ian Gallagher. If he gets Ian to care about him in turn, he'll go to a nice afterlife place. (Yes, this is all very Beauty and the Beast. Deal with it.)

Cue Mickey spluttering about not being fucking gay and even if he was he wouldn't go for that scrawny redhead, also newsflash spirit person, Gallagher is dating my fucking sister, and how the fuck's a magpie supposed to protect anyone anyway, why not make him a pitbull or a fucking tiger, etc, etc. The spirit person obviously doesn't pay any heed to Mickey's outraged rant and hey presto! It is a bird!

Magpie Mickey's first instinct would probably be to fly the hell away from everything, but he's just a little bit curious about why the hell that idiot spirit would claim that Ian Gallagher is supposed to be his one true love. Okay, sure, the kid is pretty cute, he guesses, Mickey's always got a thing for red hair and freckles, but he's always seem like a bit of a pushover, soft, so what gives? (Also, if the guy's into dudes, why the hell has he taken up with Mandy? Mickey's not gonna let some closeted homo hurt his sister. Yeah – that's it. He's out to protect Mandy, that's all.)

Aaand you can imagine how it goes, as Mickey starts following Ian around and keeping an eye on him to figure out what the appeal's supposed to be. He soon finds himself getting a little bit intrigued, 'cause it seems Gallagher is actually kind of funny and smart and not anywhere near as soft as Mickey first thought? Also, yep, he's very, very gay, but it seems Mandy knows all about it so maybe Mickey doesn't need to pick his eyes out over it...

One day Mickey spots Ian being followed by some local lowlife, seemingly picking Ian out as an easy mark, and when the villain moves in to put a knife to Ian's neck Mickey's immediately in his face, talons out and beak at the ready. (Why? 'Cause Mandy would be sad if something happened to her fake boyfriend, obviously. What with their mum running off and then Mickey dying, she's got enough to be sad about already.) Mickey scares the would-be robber off, but maybe he catches the knife to a wing and is a little bit hurt and Ian has to nurse his unlikely saviour back to health? Brings him home and researches how to care for a wild animal – and it's weird but the bird doesn't seem all that wild, he's skittish but kind of docile and Ian knows he's just imagining things but it's like the magpie can actually understand every word he's saying?

Mickey finds himself reacting VERY strangely to Ian holding him so gently and then telling him he's being so good, he's doing so well, just a sec and Ian will be all done.

And then... they're friends. Ian now has a bird companion that kind of of just hangs around? Fiona won't have it in the house but Ian, with Debbie's help, makes him a cozy nest outside and bribes Carl into leaving the magpie alone rather than catching it for one of his experiments and brings Mick scraps and yeah, being a magpie fucking sucks but it doesn't all suck, maybe.

Ian tells Mickey all sorts of things, things he's never tell another person. Confides in him, complains about being in Lip's shadow, talks about his dreams and ambitions. Mickey thinks he should find it annoying, the way Ian won't shut up, but to his surprise he doesn't mind? He likes listening to Ian's voice. No one's ever wanted to tell Mickey things before. No ones's ever looked at him like they're happy to see him.

Mickey starts following Ian to school and to work, and when he sees Ian with Kash he is not pleased (because it's fucking disgusting, Ian getting with that old dude, not because he's fucking jealous or anything). Maybe starts doing shit to disturb them whenever they're making out, like attacking the door or, if he makes it into the shop, picking stuff up with his beak and tossing it around, ripping into the chip bags, shitting all over the register (or all over Kash). Ian's upset, but he's not that upset. “You're a fucking asshole,” he tells Mickey that evening, once Mickey's (not at all guiltily, but maybe a little worried that Ian will be pissed) makes it back to the Gallagher back porch.

Mickey's not sure why Ian calling him an asshole in that exasperated, fond tone of voice feels so right.

When Ian worried over the family being low on cash Mickey takes to brazenly swooping down and stealing bills right out of people's hand just as they've drawn them from an ATM. (That's actually really fucking funny, and Mickey keeps doing it just for shits and giggles until animal control is alerted and he almost gets caught.)

And then one day Mickey hears an unfortunately familiar voice calling his name from a great distance, Mikhailo, because the month is up and it's time to go, Mikhailo, and no, what the hell, he doesn't want to go, fuck heaven, he wants to stay with Ian, but he is fading, fading –

BOOM! He wakes up in a hospital bed because SURPRISE he isn't dead after all, just slipped into a coma after the car accident, but now he's awake, and it was all just a dream! (Yes, you bet your sweet ass I went with that cliche. Would you rather have Mickey be truly dead? Uh-huh. Didn't think so.)

Once he gets out of the hospital and back to his normal, shitty life, Mickey – for no particular reason, fuck you very much – decides to give school another shot, so he shows up for class and during lunch break he doesn't seek out some weakass kid to steal lunch money from, but just so happens to find himself in the vincinty of one Ian Gallagher.

Gallagher is watching him warily and when Mickey asks for a cigarette – asks, rather than punching Ian in the face and taking the packet out of his pocket – he looks downright startled. But he pulls out a smoke and hands it to Mickey and then they stand there in silence and this is awkward as fuck and Mickey is cursing himself, what the hell is he doing, it was just a dream, he doesn't actually know Gallagher, so why –

He notices that Ian is turning his head this way and that, as if he's looking for something.

”You expecting someone?” Mickey asks gruffly, for something to say.

”No, it's just, there's this bird that's kinda been following me around, but I haven't seen it since last night and... ” Ian trails off, shaking his head a little sheepishly as if realizing that what he's saying sounds insane. ”Never mind.”

Mickey doesn't say anything, but as he drags the cigarette smoke down into his lungs, he can feel his heart beat just a little bit faster, with sudden hunger and hope.

”You, uh, wanna do some shooting practise together after school?” he dares. ”Know a good spot.”

And Gallagher looks startled as fuck again – confused and maybe a little bit worried, like he thinks it's some kind of trap – but after a moment, he shrugs. ”Sure.”

(Oh, and since I am extremely against any notion of eternal damnation and the like, that spirit was never some guardian of the afterlife. If you want to imagine that it wasn't all a dream, imagine that she was some mischivious South Side spirit who'd gotten a little bit fascinated by Mickey and pulled some magic to give him a glimpse of a better life and a kick up his gay ass while he was in a coma. Well done, that spirit.)

[ggyuwwoo]

heaven's cloud : Paradise

- in the afterlife where we get to choose our own paradise, two souls unexpectedly meet.

genre: soulmates!au, but also involves idolverse, kinda fantasy whimsical, afterlife-paradise world; fem!reader x lee chan warnings: mentions of death, magical creatures, not really sure what else i guess word count: 2.4k + i generally am not good at making these infos, bear with me sorry! also not really fond of the fic picture, but i also suck and still is learning,,,,

next | masterlist

-

Lee Chan, for your exemplary journey in life, you are hereby bestowed a place in Paradise.

"I'll take the clouds if I may,"

Then to the clouds you shall ascend, Heaven's Cloud.

-

Eleven months of (not) living in paradise, Chan had adapted well into his afterlife. The Guides had placed him in his own haven of his choosing, the Clouds. Fluffy white and softer than cashmere, the touch is cooling and healing, peace and quiet were also a given. To Chan, it's his very definition of heaven.

Despite being the only soul - apparently, no one has chosen the Clouds for centuries - Chan has been never alone. He had the little fairies and spirits to keep him company while wandering around the forests. Stars often appear in his nights to cast a light show for the boy. Cancer loves to see Chan's awe-stricken face as the constellation shows him a few tricks.

The Clouds inhabitants and surrounding astronomical beings grew fond of the boy. Hence, Lee Chan never felt alone.

Though it was a blissful experience and a beautiful memory, there was only one month left. One month until the end of his livelihood above the world.

You will be given twelve months of afterlife until your next life begins.

Chan still doesn't understand why they must be sent back to Earth, living another full life that may or may not be 'great'. Though the thought of living on Earth, whatever their life might be, is already a disappointing thought. After having to exist in a paradise of your own, nothing else would come close.

But apparently, the universe believes differently.

The fairies and spirits told him once, 'Universe sought in a cycle, to them it's the perfect way as it does not end, leading to the continuation of life and its purposes.'

"But what exactly do those purposes serve if there is no end to it?"

'There is none silly, if there was to be an end to it, then life itself would cease to exist. It serves to preserve life as we know it, and well - the Universe.'

Chan pondered the thought for a while, "What if, just really hypothetically, someone happens to break the cycle, what happens then?"

The fairies' expression saddened, 'Hopefully it never happens.' Some of them flew to sit on Chan's shoulder, a calming place for them. 'But if it were to happen somehow, life wouldn't perish instantly, but the Universe and everything in it will meet its end, including the afterlife.'

The boy nodded before noticing the frowns on the beautiful faces of the winged creatures, the atmosphere had taken a drop turn. Choosing to lighten the somber mood, Chan raised another question. "Well then, um, what about aliens? Do they exist?”

-

Throughout the time he was there, Chan spent it listening to the stories of the creatures, exploring the cloud haven that seemingly doesn't end, and conversing every now and then with the astronomical beings -- when they so happened to be passing by.

It didn't get boring for the boy as the stories that the fairies had been plenty and new, never losing the interest of Chan, and the beings were more than happy to talk with him about almost anything.

Of course, all this was okay and fine, revealing the Universe's secrets and whatnot, Chan wouldn't remember this anyway when he enters his next life.

On the first day of his twelfth month, Chan woke up from his sleeping quarters in the usual well-rested sleep. Walking out to do his routine of visiting the forest and later on relaxing by the Serenity Sky Lake. But before he could reach the outlines of White Forest, he saw a figure walking through the field, he couldn't see clearly who it was, but what he registered in his mind was enough to make him gasp.

It was another soul. A human.

As quickly as his feet could take him, Chan sped through the flurry landscape of clouds, wanting to figure out this stranger.

"Hey you! Hey!"

The figure turned to the general direction of where Chan was coming from, revealing its appearance. Upon view, Chan stumbled over nothing, causing him to fall forward into a roll and tumbling on the ground until he laid flat on his back. Luckily, there were clouds under him.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" He heard the figure shout before rustling and someone appeared by his side. Chan scrunched his eyes trying to block the light coming from above while identifying the person looming over him. The first thing he noticed was long brown hair, the strands were flowing almost magically. As if hypnotized by it, Chan could only stare. Until finally, he saw the stranger's face.

She’s ethereal.

~

You were quite confused as to why you were where you were. All you could see for miles were… white? Your body was standing on nothing, or at least that was how it looked. A sudden voice interrupted your wonders.

Welcome _____, you are in Paradise.

You turned back to find the source of the voice but all you found was a blinding light that caused you to squint your eyes.

“Wh-what? Where?”

Paradise dear, the afterlife.

Your mind went blank, the afterlife? No way. Your brain tried remembering the last thing before waking up in this weird place.

There’s no use child, your memories are long gone. But I can tell you this, you went in peace. You weren’t in pain.

Were the voices capable of reading minds? And who were they? You were a bit frightened.

To answer your question, yes we can read minds. We are the Guides, here to assist the souls in the afterlife. There’s no need to be afraid.

“Uh, okay, ...thank you?” You voiced out, still a little overwhelmed with whatever was going on.

Well then, perhaps we should take you to your choice. Please, follow the green path.

Just as the voices finished speaking, a sudden green line appeared in front of you. You couldn’t see what was ahead, just the green line until the end. You decided to follow through, whatever this was.

As you walked on the path, you were gradually transported to a different place. When you were finally able to understand your surroundings, there were screens that had different landscapes and writings in different colors under them. The scenes displayed were (what you could only describe as) heavenly. Each of them has its own set of vibe and warmth to it. Unconsciously your hand moved itself to touch one of the screens, but then the voices returned prompting you to pull it back.

What you see in front of you are the places in Paradise, according to how one lives their life on Earth, you have a series of options that you may choose from. I shall provide you a look-through.

The screens suddenly disappeared and now you were standing in what looked like those busy city streets, only not so busy.

First is the Silver City. Its appearance resembles the metropolitan areas down on Earth but without all the pollution, noises, and busy traffic. Many people who had used to live in these areas usually choose them, sensing a familiarity to it, they say.

As the Guides explained its landscapes, you were admiring the tall buildings and skyscrapers around you. The architectural designs were marvelous and even if you didn’t remember if you had studied such things, you can’t help but stare in admiration.

Aside from the buildings, the streets looked beautiful as well. The sidewalks were arranged perfectly as if it was placed with the most proper city planning. But one building stuck out to you most, it was majestic. A silver mansion, with tall gates and filled with all kinds of trees and plants. Before you could step towards it, the Guides were already finished explaining the Silver City and had transported you instead to another location.

Second, the Golden Countryside. As the name states, this place is best likely your ultimate countryside farm paradise. A quaint farmhouse with animal livestock to nurture and many forests to explore and spend time in. Families often choose this place for their resting, it’s quite homey.

True to their words, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was a vast field of grass with a simple two-story house that looked like it could fit six bedrooms. Beside it was a giant farmhouse and animals roaming around it. The view itself was doubled in beauty as the sun (or whatever source of light that existed here) sets from behind, casting a soft orange glow over it. Somehow the silver mansion from earlier was placed way aside in your head. Yet again, before you could ask any questions, you were immediately transported once more.

The third is Cosmic Space. Ever wondered how it is to live in Space child?

You heard the voice give out a sound that was similar to a laugh, but somehow not quite.

More people than you’d expect actually dream of this. It may not be as simple as the City or the Countryside, but it’s nonetheless paradise. To them.

Now you were most definitely floating, though despite floating in the middle of random space, you could breathe easily and see easily as well. You thought that space may be too wild for you but as you were looking around, you saw one of the most magical things you have ever seen.

“A comet shower…”

The Guides seemed to have heard you as they projected the shower closer, now holographic space comets were right above you, shining as they continued the rain of them. Mesmerized was all you could feel, the meteors were almost hypnotizing you.

“Whoa…”

Beautiful isn’t it?

Was the last thing you heard before you felt the sudden pull of transport again, at this point you were no longer fazed with the continuous changing of locations, though you did wish to have been able to watch the shower longer.

Number four, the Pearl Waters. For those who favor the deep sea and vast oceans. Of course, many souls who felt close to the waves chose this. The afterlife here is often intriguing, staying with the many creatures and traveling wherever paradise takes you.

You found yourself standing on a deck of a ship, it was modernized though some parts resemble that of an older version. Heading to the flanks you watched the blue ocean as the waves sloshed around the sides. As if welcoming you, dolphins suddenly jumped above the sea, whalebacks spurting water, and schools of fish could be seen from the clear water. You were most surely amazed. As the sea creatures displayed a water show, you felt something touching your arm on the railing. You looked to find a woman with green-blue hair, her cheeks had features similar to scales, and as you peered further you realized it wasn’t a woman at all.

“A...mermaid?”

Ah yes, indeed. Each paradise also has guardians that help care and maintain the afterlife. Mermaids are the Pearl Waters guardians. As for the Silver City, we have the Elves. Golden Countryside has the Shapeshifters while Cosmic Space has Angels.

“Wait what?” You were pretty much confused all together, mythical creatures? Well, then again, it is the afterlife, who knows what actually exists here. But still, you found yourself in confusion and quite the shock.

Not to worry dear, you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted. Now for our last destination.

The mermaid who was staring at your side gave you a small smile before disappearing back into the ocean. You continued to stare at her general direction before your view changed into that of...clouds?

Last but not the least, Heaven’s Cloud. It’s truly magical here. Not many people find it appealing though, but of course it always depends on who’s choosing. Essentially, it's the skies. The guardians here are the fairies and spirits. Quite the peculiar and very friendly creatures.

As your eyes set on the landscape, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. It was breathtaking. It was as if you were standing right in front of the Sun but at the same time, you weren’t. You knew for one you’ve never been in a place like this yet all you could feel from the surroundings was home. You leaned down to touch the fluffy ground and it was the softest thing you’ve ever felt. As quickly as the previous location visits, the surroundings changed again back to their original place with screens.

Now _____, because of the well-lived life that you have gone through. You, _____, are given the choice of one of the five Paradises that you have just seen. Speak now for your choice.

You didn’t know if it was your own voice and mind that spoke, or your conscience, because the sound that erupted from your body sounded firm and almost unbreakable. You didn’t even realize that you had spoken your choice after it was said.

“Heaven’s Cloud if I may,”

The Guides paused for a moment as if they were thinking about something, before continuing.

Very well then, your heart has spoken. To Heaven’s Cloud, you shall go.

One last time, you were again transported to a field with white clouds, similar to the earlier landscape you visited. This time without the voices. Somehow you suddenly felt alone, scared, and unsure of what to do. Wandering aimlessly, you tried looking for the guardians - the fairies and spirits. Then you suddenly heard someone shout.

“Hey you! Hey!”

You turned back to see a man, brown fluffy hair swaying atop his head, running towards you. Well, was running, until he stumbled down and started rolling across the field.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” you shouted before heading towards the boy. As you reached his side, you saw he was unhurt and fine, just squinting his eyes. You sighed in relief, although it should make sense, after all, it was clouds underneath them. Before you could say anything to the stranger, you caught him staring right at you, and somehow you stared back as well.

The boy looked mesmerizing.

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.

——————

Chapter 1 in case you missed it:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference

——————

“Humans are [and text here]”

Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?

Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.

His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.

“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.

“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.

“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”

“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.

“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.

“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.

“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.

“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.

“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.

Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”

“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.

“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.

“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.

“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.

“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.

“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.

“Right… What is your diet?”

“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.

“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.

“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.

“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?

“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.

“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”

Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”

“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?

“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.

“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.

——————

Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.

“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.

“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.

“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.

There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.

“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.

“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.

“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.

Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.

After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.

Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.

“Report.” The dreamon commanded.

“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.

“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.

“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.

“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.

Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.

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Chapter 2- End

Words~ 1774

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End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...

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Chapter 3:

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Wilbur:

[phantom-curve]

Congrats on reaching your follower milestone soon, dear! It was tough choosing a prompt because there are some really nice ones on the list—but I'll go with #2 aspectabund for Julie and Luke. I'd love to be less predictable and choose another 'verse than "gimme a chance" but I am weak. (Unless you’re really not feeling it, then I'd love to see a oneshot of your liking. No pressure. ♥️)

thank you!! and thank you for this prompt and pairing because I had actually imagined this exact scene weeks ago but I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it work in the full fic, so now I get to just write it as a deleted scene for you! in the timeline of the gimme a chance AU, this is set after the last deleted scene but before the scene with Alex and Reggie in chapter 6. just a little moment of Luke and Julie still not really knowing what they are but recklessly forging ahead anyway❤️ (with some Flynn backstory thrown in for good measure!)

aspectabund - letting emotions show easily through the face or eyes (Rated M for consistency, language, and a fairly suggestive setting)

Luke could study Julie in any light and find her beautiful, but there was something about seeing her under the dimmed interior lighting of the bar bathroom that felt particularly special. Maybe it was the way she seemed to glow underneath the muted lights that surrounded the bathroom mirror. Maybe it was because it was the first place he had ever experienced a softer, more vulnerable moment with her. Maybe it was because her presence alone somehow managed to turn even the grungiest of atmospheres into something beautiful and magical.

Whatever the reason, Luke had come to love the times he managed to steal away with her into the bathroom, losing himself in the feel of her lips pressed against his and her warm skin beneath his seeking fingers, every inch of him filled to the brim with thoughts of her and her alone. His port in the storm, the guiding light he couldn’t help but follow. Julie Molina, his brightest burning star.

Tonight was almost identical to every other night that Julie came by the bar. Another open mic, another flirty encounter exchanged via lyrics over shots of tequila, the background noise of whoever happened to be up on stage never quite loud enough to pull them out of their own little personal bubble. Dante was working, which meant Luke didn’t feel quite so bad about sneaking into the bathroom during his 10 to find Julie waiting, lips soft and inviting against his own, curves just as sweet as he remembered though always better than he imagined in his dreams at night. She had been driving him crazy all night in her cropped band tee and the jeans that he had a love/hate relationship with. Denim shouldn’t be allowed to look that good and then be that damned difficult to take off.

They had come together quickly, never willing to waste their stolen time together when there was a clock ticking and a bar still full of patrons just a door away. As much as it might feel like their own private world locked away in the bathroom, the real world still continued on outside without much cause for stopping. Tonight though, Luke couldn’t help but linger just a moment after he finally came down from the way Julie had left him gasping her name. Her head was still tucked into the crook of his neck, her hair even wilder than it had been when she first showed up. She was an absolute vision. A true goddess. It blew his mind she was even willing to give him the time of day, and he was constantly reminded of how lucky he was to have these small, stolen moments with her.

Julie seemed to notice his extra attention, pulling her flushed face clear of its hiding place and regarding him with a look that he couldn’t quite decipher. Soft, but still guarded. Their eyes met and he was so sure she would see it then. The love he was never able to fully hold back anymore. He studied her from head to toe, let his gaze caress every inch of her body with the kind of soft adoration that tended to make itself known the second she was within his vicinity these days.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Her question wasn’t an accusation, but Luke felt the need to hide from her probing all the same. It wasn’t her fault he had fallen in love with her. He didn’t get to force that on her when she hadn’t ever asked for it or encouraged it in the first place. His mind blanked for a moment, scrambling to come up with a plausible answer to her question. He blurted the first thing he could think of, not sure where the thought had come from but willing to follow it to the end if it meant insight into Julie and steering clear of his own emotional turmoil.

“Where does Flynn think you are when you come here?”

Julie pulled back further, her legs closing slightly as if it would force him out of his position there. Luke didn’t retreat. Kept his hands alongside the dip of her waist, fingers softly stroking the bare skin underneath the shirt she still wore. He made sure his gaze was soft and steady. He wasn’t trying to chastise her, just maybe understand her a bit better. She had said Flynn didn’t know about the nights she came to the bar, but there was no way her best friend was missing the fact that three nights out of the week, Julie wasn’t home until well past midnight.

“The library.”

The answer seemed so ridiculous that Luke couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. Julie’s arms folded across her chest, nose scrunching into an adorable pout that he wanted to kiss away. She tilted her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder, and he could practically read her mind through the look on her face. She was not amused. Luke backpedaled a bit, trying to explain exactly why her cover up seemed so flimsy to him.

“You tell Flynn you’re going to the library and then you come home looking like that and she just...believes you’ve been at the library?”

Luke pointed towards the mirror behind them, and Julie turned to follow his finger. She seemed startled to see her own appearance: hair wild and mussed, cheeks still flushed with leftover satisfaction, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes shining in a way he had only seen right after he played for her and right after he made her fall apart with his touch. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, smoothing the smaller hairs along her temple as if that would control them. It didn’t do much, just like Luke knew it wouldn’t. Julie’s mouth twisted to the side in an annoyed grimace, and she turned away from the mirror to look up at him once more.

“Well, no. I tell her I’m going to the library when I leave the apartment, and then I usually do go there for a few hours before coming here. She’s always asleep by the time I get home. Flynn is a strict lights-out-at-10 type of girl, unless Carrie is the one keeping her up.”

A light shudder worked its way down Julie’s spine and Luke didn’t even try to think about the ways Carrie might be keeping Flynn awake past 10. Instead, he chose to focus on the minor revelations about the inner workings of exactly how Julie ended up at the bar every Tuesday and Thursday as well as most Saturdays.

“Huh. That weirdly makes sense for her. Yet another reason for her to hate me, I guess. Sleeping that early is for grannies and kids.”

He delivered the last line with a teasing smirk. He mostly meant it as a joke. It was easier to poke fun at Flynn if he was doing it in a way that also kind of poked fun at himself. Then it wasn’t so much him shit talking her as it was him admitting he wasn’t always his favorite person either. Julie must have seen something behind his eyes or on his face though because all of the sudden she softened, her hands raising from where they had been holding her up on the counter to cradle his face instead. The move was so intimate it made him want to purr. He settled for leaning into her hold, head turned to sneak a quick kiss against her palm. When he met her eyes, the guarded walls in her gaze had melted, leaving only a gentle kind of fondness in their wake.

“Flynn doesn’t hate you.”

Luke snorted. Julie’s tone was soft and sweet, but he knew a lie when he heard one, no matter how nicely it was said.

“Yes, she does.”

He could tell she was about to argue, so he lifted one finger to rest against her lips, effectively cutting off whatever she had been about to say as he continued talking.

“Flynn hasn’t liked me since we first met, and I asked her who the cute blonde musician was without knowing it was Carrie. Then I made the mistake of going off about how I knew Carrie was a musician because, well, I just knew, and she liked that even less. But I was upgraded to hate the night you came to our show with her, and I made a complete ass of myself. It’s fine, Julie. I know the score. You don’t have to pretend she likes me just cause we’re...ya know...”

He trailed off awkwardly, not quite willing to label them as casual when that had become his absolute least favorite word in the English language lately. The finger that had been held to her lips curled back into the palm of his hand so he could raise it to scratch at the back of his neck. The sight seemed to soften Julie even more, one of her hands falling from its spot against his cheek to rest against his bare chest, directly above his heart. There was a tenderness behind the action that was new for them, Julie’s eyes warm and gentle as she regarded him. He wasn’t sure he liked the way it made his heart stutter and constrict, wished he had the extra layer of his shirt between them for the first time ever, but she was still perched on top of it where he had laid it down as a barrier between her and the countertop.

“Luke.”

The sound of his name sent another wave of longing through him. His eyes had to be practically overflowing with the depths of his feelings for her by now. She had to be able to see it.

“Flynn does not hate you. She just...doesn’t understand you.”

He couldn’t quite believe that they were in a bathroom at Ebbie’s, half-dressed and still just barely back on the Earthly plane, and somehow, they were discussing Flynn of all people. Luke generally did his best not to think about Flynn, especially lately when he was certain if she ever found out what he was up to there wouldn’t be a place in this world he would be able to hide from her. He tried to play it off again, make a joke that would lighten the atmosphere and get them off of the topic that he was constantly pretending didn’t hurt as much as it did.

“Julie, Flynn isn’t the one I’m worried about hating me. That ship has sailed, and she’s the captain of it. It’s okay. As long as I have you, I’m not gonna worry about something I can’t change.”

Okay, so that was maybe a bit sappier than he should have worded it, but the sentiment was true, all the same. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold back those pieces of himself lately. The parts that wanted desperately to belong to Julie and no one else.

The delicate hand that had been resting against his cheek trailed a gentle path up to tuck itself behind his head, dislodging his own hand from where it had still been nervously scratching. There was a new look in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen before, not even when he had tried to take her home and had been offered a small acquiescence in the form of dropping her off at her own home instead. This look was much softer, almost endless in its depth and Luke felt his breath catch as if she had stolen it away herself. This was a look that felt precious and vulnerable and like maybe she was finally going to strike the word casual from the definition of their relationship. He dipped his head, forehead falling to rest against her own so he could bathe in that look for as long as possible. Julie didn’t pull away. Instead, her grip tightened over his heart and around the back of his neck. An invitation for him to close that small gap between them once more and bring his lips to hers.

This kiss was different too. No edge to it at all, just a soft sigh of movement against one another. Neither one taking from the other, each simply offering a piece of themselves. A gentle understanding, a moment of true harmony together where they were on the same page. Luke had no fucking clue what, exactly, that page was, but he would stay there and reread it over and over again until he died if it meant holding Julie against him like this.

The timer on his phone chirped, the sound just barely audible through the material of his pants. It was a warning, their warning, that this stolen moment was fast coming to an end and if Luke didn’t get back out to the bar someone would come looking. Luke had never hated an interruption more in his entire life. For as long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d be able to reach his limit of basking in the presence of Julie Molina, but especially like this when it felt all the more precious and fleeting.

Slowly, she pulled herself back, their lips parting in a way that told him she would have continued to linger without the interruption. He almost gave into the temptation of ignoring the alarm so that he could dive back in, but then she pressed her fingers against her lips. The action, so simple and unassuming, nearly had his heart bursting. Because she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing fast and erratic. When she finally met his gaze a good ten seconds later, he was shocked to see a type of longing he had only recognized in himself reflected in the melted chocolate of her irises.

“You have to get back out there before Dante comes looking for you.”

Her voice was breathless and just this side of needy, like the thought of him leaving made her all the more desperate to keep him there. It was the strongest show of willpower that he didn’t haul her back into his arms for a repeat performance of when he first arrived in the bathroom. He nodded slowly, the sound of his metal chains and belt buckle clinking as he readjusted his jeans the only noise in the room. She slipped off the counter, offering his shirt back to him with a shy smile as she pulled her own jeans back into place. The cotton slipped over his head, and Luke silently cursed the way it obstructed his view of Julie, even if it was barely more than a couple seconds.

“See you back out there?”

He wasn’t sure why he asked. Julie always left before him, giving him a few extra moments to wash his hands and get his head back into work mode before he had to slip behind the bar once more. This time though, she wasn’t rushing to leave. Instead, she bit her lip, forehead wrinkling slightly before she gave a soft shake of her head. The walls that had disappeared in the last few minutes were firmly back in place when she met his gaze.

“I have to get some work done on a project for school. I cut my library time short tonight to get here earlier.”

It wasn’t really a rejection, but it sure as hell felt like one. Luke tried not to let it show on his face, but he wasn’t sure he managed to pull it off. He felt his own fingers at the back of his neck again and wondered when they had gotten there.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. I get it.”

He shrugged a bit, tried to get some bounce back in his step as he moved towards the door.

“Luke...?”

He turned at the sound of Julie’s voice, just barely managing not to lose it when her eyes flashed momentarily with that same fleeting look of vulnerable longing.

“Next open mic is Thursday, right?”

She was trying to get them back on script. Trying to get back to that place that felt more familiar, less intense. Luke couldn’t fault her for her. He was the one that kept trying to push them outside of the confines she had created. He sighed softly, stepping close so he could press a quick kiss against her forehead.

“Next open mic is Thursday. I’ll be here.”

Her lips curved just a bit, her smile small but no less brilliant.

“See you then, Rockstar.”

He left then. Had to force his feet to move before he fell to his knees and begged her for more. More time, more stolen moments, more commitment, more of everything that he so desperately wanted from her and no one else. Luke threw himself into filling orders behind the bar, so busy he didn’t see Julie make her way out. If Dante noticed the storm cloud that hovered above his head for the rest of the night, he didn’t mention it.

He promised himself that when he saw her again on Thursday, he would let it go. Loving her didn’t give him the right to demand more. In fact, if he really loved her, he would find a way to be content with what she offered. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he wasn’t ready to give her up just yet. And he didn’t think she was ready to give him up yet, either. So, he would stay, and he would accept what he was given, because every new moment meant another memory for him to carry with him when this whole thing ended. And somehow, that would have to be enough.