#telling the whole world and the galaxies hes in love with him

[jrueships]

...

[cherubfae]

Hi 👋

I'm loving your work so far and had to follow for more!

I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you could do the scenario when the reader tells them i can hold the whole world in my hands and the other looks confused and the reader holds their face in their hands with the hazbin crew + striker and how'd they react to it?

If not, it's totally cool. I look forward to what you put out next! 😊

you're my whole world || hazbin/helluva boss x reader

"I can hold the entire world in my hands. Wanna see?"

tags: gn!reader, afab for vaggie, implied!masc reader for angel, fluff, cuteness, established relationships

Alastor

A crackle of radio feedback as his eye twitches when you reach for him, calms for a second when you cup his face. His clawed hands rest on top of yours. He's rather confused, how is this holding the--

"You're my whole world, Alastor~!" You grin up at him, lovingly.

The facade of a smile he always wears slips for only a second. But it's one second too long and you catch it. His eyebrows relax, lids drooping, cheeks pushing upwards and he beams at you softly. A genuine smile crossing his lips. He cups your face in return, puffing your cheeks like a fish and a muffled laugh track plays. Leaning his forehead against yours, he grins.

Softly, he whispers, "And you are mine, mon cour."

Lucifer

Immediately his eyes well up. He doesn't have the need to act all cool and collected when he's a total softie. He leans his cheek further into your palm, his eyelids fluttering shut allowing for a moment of respite. Tilting your chin upwards, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss.

"I love you more than anything. You are my life, sweetling, my galaxy. I would dismantle Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to keep you and Charlie safe."

Charlie

The meeting with Heaven hadn't gone to plan and now, she's curled up like a little blanket burrito in her crimson comforter. She doesn't say anything when you announce that you can hold the whole world in your hands, but she's definitely curious in the way she immediately watches you with interest. She's confused when you cup her cheeks but soon gasps loudly in realization, eyes welling up. You always know just what to say when she's feeling blue.

"M-me? I'm your whole world? But you're my whole world, too!" Charlie grunts, breaking free of her blanket cocoon to cup your face in return. "Look! Now I can hold the world too~!"

Vaggie

She expected your reaction to be much worse. Vaggie finally admitted, albeit she was forced to tell, that she had been an angel this entire time. You hadn't been sure how to react and it was clear you were hurt by her secret and she respected that you needed time to process all of this new information. What she hadn't expected was you approaching her a few hours later, gently cupping her face and telling her that she was your entire world.

A valve breaks loose and Vaggie begins to cry. She wanted to tell you for so long! She really, really did, but she didn't know how! You hold her close, slipping down onto the floor with her letting her cry on your shoulder.

"I didn't want to keep this part of me a secret, but there was so much risk in people knowing-- if they would directly come for you, I just... I couldn't risk your safety if you knew what I truly was. I love you so much, I just wanted to keep us safe."

Husk

The glass he had been wiping down would've shattered on the ground had his tail not caught it. His wings instinctively fluff up, setting the cup on a rack with the rest of the clean, empty glasses.

"Didja have to get up there to tell me this?" He clears his throat deeply, gesturing wildly to ask what you were doing. You, currently perched on top of the bar counter on your knees cupping his face.

"Yeah!" You chirp with a grin. Husk sighs, grabbing you by the waist and hefting you down and off the countertop. He doesn't say a word when your legs wrap around his waist and your arms slide around his shoulders. His cold nose presses to your cheek and he chuckles softly, utterly happy and in love.

"You're a dork, huh, hun? But you're my dork." Husk purrs softly, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

Angel Dust

Owlishly, he stares at you. That confusion melts into a genuine smile and a soft chuckle. His third set of arms materializes, tugging you in by your hips while the other two wrap around your shoulders and waist respectively. Pressing his soft cheek to yours, he affectionately nuzzles you with a laugh.

"You're full of surprises, ain't ya, toots? Y-you're my everything, baby. My world. The one light in this whole damned darkness I call my life."

Vox

He was expecting something much different from you when you climbed into his lap, turning his attention away from his displayed monitors. Red eyes flickering, he's confused when you grasp both sides of his monitor screen. This is new...?? Vox's gaze widens as you finish your statement, chuckling deeply. Covering your hands in his, he places your hand to his chest where his dead heart would still be beating. You make him feel alive, no heartbeat and all.

"Fuck, baby, that's pretty cheesy. But I liked it." Vox grins, red dripping from the corners of his mouth. "C'mere, sweets. Wanna kiss ya."

Blitzø

Why do you have to say some of the cutest shit? Ugh, it makes his heart feel all weird and he's not sure how to react, but he does appreciate it nonetheless, especially with the two of you being alone. You know he's been working on his emotions, trying to do better. When he can't find the words to say, he nuzzles your palm softly and gives you a wobbly smile before harshly rubbing at his eyes.

"Th-thank you, ah, fuck.. Why am I crying? Must be a damn ninja chopping some fuckin' onions somewhere." He sniffles, deeply sighing. He grasps your hand in his, squeezing it softly. "I'm not sure if the world is a large enough example.. To, y'know, express my love or whatever.."

Loona

She's pretty taken aback by your statement, a soft blush staining her cheeks. Her tail gives a little wag and she smiles. Bending down to your height, she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, her hand slipping into yours.

"You're such a sap, babe, but I love you too. You're my world as well. C'mon, let's see what kind of chaos Beel is having at her party tonight. Not every day I can show off how amazing my partner is."

Striker

Saying that he's surprised is an understatement. He recovers quickly, a smirk curling up his lips and he chuckles softly. He kisses each of your palms, gently removing them from his face. He tugs you in close, tail swaying behind him. Tilting your chin up, his claw running along your lower lip. He leans in close, lips only inches away. His voice noticeably deepens.

"You're sweeter than pie, ain't ya, sugar? Got my heart and stomach all twisted in knots like somethin' awful. I'm not the best with words but I'd be happy to show ya just how much your tender sentiment is mutual. If you'll have me."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

[lovebugism]

shy reader you say???

i’m obsessed with eddie and shy reader 🥹🥹maybe like her being afraid to present during class and him pumping her up and mouthing words of encouragement during a presentation at school😭😭sounds stupid but i’d love this

this is a wee bit different but i hope you like it anon :D — eddie helps calm your nerves before a presentation (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, tw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Study hall turns into an impromptu panicking session.

You break down on the rotted park bench outside the football field, surrounded by textbooks and falling leaves. The only thing keeping you halfway tethered to reality is the crisp autumn air filling your burning lungs. Everything smells like rain and very distinctly of Eddie.

He’d been a good enough sport to help you prepare for your history presentation, but he certainly hadn’t signed up to coax you through a nervous breakdown because of it. 

Your boy’s a good enough sport even now, though, sitting beside you at the creaking wooden table — chin on the crown of your head, ringed hand over your heart. 

You tend to dig at your chest whenever your anxiety attacks get real bad. You’re not sure why. Maybe to soothe your palpitating heart or to pull it out entirely.

“What were you trying to do, babe?” Eddie laughed into your hair as you came down from your panic, lightening the grey mood and smoothing a warm palm over your tight chest. “Pull your damn heart out?”

You can breathe halfway normally now. The hurt in your chest has lessened to a very distant one. Now you’re just left with the post-panic shame. You feel like a little kid again, making monsters out of the clothes on your desk chair.

“I don’t know why I got so scared,” you confess, as quiet as the autumn breeze, rubbing your cheek against the soft lapel of Eddie’s leather jacket. “It’s not even that big a deal.”

The boy shrugs, jostling you accidentally. “Well, your brain thinks it’s a big deal. And your brain’s just telling your body that it needs to protect you.”

You don’t know much about your own anxiety and maybe that’s a fault in itself. It’s not the sort of thing you wanna poke with a stick, lest you wake something up that should’ve stayed sleeping. You just ignore it as best you can — let it fester until it explodes into moments like these. 

Normally, Eddie isn’t around for them but you’re grateful he is now. ‘Cause he loves you and because he cares enough to learn all the things about you that you don’t even want to know about yourself.

He didn’t know much about anxiety before you. He just knew that his mom had it when he was real little, and that social anxiety is scared of him and not the other way around. But then he fell in love with you and learned everything he could if it meant he could treat you better.

Now, it’s practically in his nature to be as gentle with the rest of the world as he is with you — which is totally not one brand for him.

“But you don’t need protecting, right? ‘Cause you’re safe.” 

You nod wordlessly. 

Your throat tightens again like you might cry, but it’s not because you’re scared. It’s because you love him so damn much you think you could explode. He fills your chest with sunshine, banishing the swirling shadows completely.

You could probably light up a whole galaxy with how happy he makes you feel. 

How adored. 

How safe.

“And it’s okay to be scared about this stuff, you know?” Eddie continues when you stay silent. His chin grazes your hair when he pulls back to look at you. “Everyone’s scared of something. Like Steve— I’m pretty sure he’s, like, deathly afraid of quicksand.”

He keeps his arm around your back when you lean away from him, keeping you warm when the crisp breeze brushes between you. You sniffle and blink at him with wide, wet eyes. A hint of a smile quirks the edge of your bitten mouth.

“Quicksand?” you repeat incredulously.

Eddie grins back at you, happy to see you smiling again. It’s pink and lopsided and terribly unkissed. “Yeah,” he affirms through a sputtered laugh. “And I’m pretty sure quicksand isn’t even real, so— at least you’re afraid of something that actually exists.”

Your own giggle tumbles suddenly from your mouth. Both because quicksand is obviously real and because Steve is one of the bravest guys you know.

As usual, Eddie’s totally oblivious to how much of a dumbass he is, but he beams anyway. He’s just happy to be a distraction for you when the rest of the world gets too much — a life vest when you’re drowning. 

Your smile ebbs into a quieter one. Your glassy gaze flits to the clammy hands you wring feverishly in your lap. “I just… I know it’s dumb and everything, but— speaking in front of everyone like that— it makes me feel… I don’t know. It makes me feel way more scared than a person should ever be, like… ever.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s scary. But you can handle it,” Eddie shrugs with all his practiced nonchalance. The absentminded confidence he has — that he has in you — makes you feel all warm. “You’re the smartest person I know, and you know this shit like the back of your hand.”

He waves a pale hand to the cluttered picnic table you sit in front of. Flashcards, clumsily written notes, and open textbooks scatter the top of it.

You know all of it forwards and backwards now — so well you could probably do the presentation in your sleep. If only you weren’t so dreadfully frightened of opening your mouth in front of people you don’t know.

Eddie gives you a warm, reassuring squeeze on your arm with one hand. He smoothes a rouge wisp of hair from your forehead with the other. He could see you getting distant again. It’s important to keep you grounded when you get like that — he read that in a magazine once.

“And by the end of the day, it’ll just be you and me and an empty trailer, and you will have much better things to worry about than this,” he continues. A mischievous smirk blossoms on his rosy lips. His chocolate eyes sparkle with it, too. “I’ll have you so damn distracted, you won’t even think about this stupid presentation again.”

You meet his boyish grin with a challenging squint. Smiling despite yourself, you knock your shoulder into his side at his teasing. 

The sentiment is still there, though. Presentations are stupid and fleeting. Eddie’s here and forever.

“Yeah,” you murmur under your breath. “I guess you’re right.”

He scoffs. “Of course I am.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare that he meets with a more sincere beam. 

“You’re gonna be the bravest scared person the world’s ever seen,” Eddie tells you, more serious now. 

He isn’t telling you not to be scared or distracting you from the fact that you are. He’s affirming your fear, reminding you that you can be brave in the face of it. 

“And you’re gonna show every single one of those losers what a super genius looks like.”

You roll your eyes at that last bit, pretending you’re not as comforted by his presence or the words he says partly in jest as you really are. 

Because he’s right. It’s not about forcing yourself not to be scared. It’s about being scared and doing the shit anyway — being brave and giving a stupid presentation even if your voice trembles and your hands shake.

And god, nothing makes you feel braver than Eddie.

[shirefantasies]

How the Fellowship Act Around Their Crush (GN!Reader)

Hello friends! Kicking off my blog with some cute headcanons for my favorite people- hope you enjoy 😄

Aragorn

✧ One of the least obvious for sure 😅 we love a strong silent type but unfortunately that means you’ll have to be reading in on his actions

✧ Checks in on you a lot, just making sure you’re feeling alright and not hiding any burdens because he wants to carry those.

✧ Teaches you all he knows about the world’s botany when he notices your curiosity, pointing out what plants are poisonous, which the elves use for healing, and which can be made into tea. Snags a few to make you said tea at the earliest convenience 😌

✧ Will be the one to drape his cloak over you if you get cold. Not the type to stop others from doing it, but boy will he be the fastest by far!

✧ Has the habit of letting his fingers linger over yours just a bit longer than necessary when he hands things off to you or presses small items into your hands.

✧ Is the best with his words. He’ll reassure you if you feel insecure that you have a strength and beauty you bring to this world that no one else does, that the time you are in does not define you as a whole, that all have roles to play here.

Legolas

✧ Least obvious part 2! Another who is more silent about things…at least at first! If you understand Elvish, you may catch him searching for advice from Aragorn on if he should speak of it or not.

✧ Almost always defers to your word/opinion whether it’s where to stop or simply how you’d like to spend the rest of the evening.

✧ Shows off just a smidge 🤏🏻 when he knows you’re looking, like no, he doesn’t have to impale three orcs with the same arrow three different ways but did you think it was cool? Then yes he did. Still his face colors with surprised, joy, and amusement when you react with awe.

✧ “Wow, beautiful,” you breathe as your eyes scan the stars, glittering constellations and distant galaxies winking above you. “Indeed,” Legolas responds softly, but if you happen to peer at him from the peripheries of your vision at just the right time you’ll see the glance he surreptitiously slides to you.

✧ Holds open every door for you, slides back every chair, serves you at every meal, like this prince is peak gentleman and nothing less!

✧ Whispers joking observations about the rest of the fellowship, especially Gimli, that he usually keeps to himself into your ear as you sit together during mealtimes. This creates a whole slew of inside jokes between you two and much confusion over what you could possibly be laughing at.

Boromir

✧ Not over-the-top, but he figures what’s the point if you never figure anything out? Definitely wants to drop hints for you 😌

✧ Places a kiss to the back of your hand when he first meets you, telling you it is truly an honor.

✧ “Here, allow me,” he’ll say as he gently takes whatever burden you bear whether it’s bundles of firewood or even your bag on a particular rough day of travel.

✧ Happily shares tales of Gondor’s splendor with you and insists he’ll take you there and show you himself someday. Asks in turn for stories of your home and all your favorite things about it. Even if he can never visit, Boromir is determined to find a way to bring a piece of your home to you someday- anything to make you feel like you’re there again.

✧ Offers you his arm when you two walk side-by-side, guiding you with a firm, warm grip that keeps you feeling secure.

✧ Always places himself between you and danger, stepping in front of you with his sword and shield in hands and even shifting you back with a hand upon your waist.

Gimli

✧ You’re going to figure it out pretty quickly. He’e comically vocal as we all know, but also incredibly smooth when he wants to be…and boy does he want to be 👀

✧ Drops a lot of hints about how dwarves are the warmest, heartiest lovers and best providing partners! “We’ve the grandest of halls and sturdiest of bodies, after all!”

✧ Literally always has your back, like he is more aware of any threats to you than you are. It’s nearly impossible to count how many times he’s slashed an orc you hadn’t even seen off your back, giving you a triumphant nod and an “Anytime, Lassie/Laddie!”

✧ Laughs at every single joke you tell so hard you can’t help but puff up in pride at your sense of humor, nudging your shoulder with his.

✧ “Oh, stay still, you’ve got something in your hair…” Proceeds to remove it in the most tender and intimate manner you’ve ever experienced.

✧ Asks you to look him in the eyes before a big fight because, in his words, if that’s the last thing he looks upon before going out it’ll all be worth it.

Frodo

✧ Has no idea what he is doing honestly. Has never felt this way before and wasn’t sure if he ever would, so his demeanor around you suddenly becomes shy, almost withdrawn.

✧ Your self-appointed nurse. Tends your wounds silently but with the most caring, gentle touch and gaze fluttering back and forth between your wound and your expression with those big blue eyes.

✧ Goes on walks every now and again when everybody’s camped. After a while of seeing you watch him off, Frodo plucks up the courage to invite you to join him on one.

✧ Embarrassed as he is at first, he is encouraged by your eager eyes when you ask what he’s reading, shyly admitting it’s some poetry he loves. Ends up reciting you the whole thing, looking into your eyes intently as he wishes to actually be confessing each of those flowery words.

✧ Grabs your hand to lead you places whenever he finds something you just have to see! Blushes about it after the fact but in the moment the excitement just takes over him and he doesn’t even think about it.

✧ Begins sharing concerns and deeper thoughts with you once he trusts you as a sort of sign of that feeling. He hopes you understand that he doesn’t disclose to just anyone.

Sam

✧ He wants to talk to you so bad, but also you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen and how does he do that??? So sweet and attentive with his gaze when you do talk, so that could clue you in.

✧ He definitely gives you the biggest and best of anything he prepares, smiling softly at you as he dishes it up!

✧ Offers to tell you stories of The Shire, especially if you’ve never visited it yourself, and you can see the love for it in his eyes as much as you can hear it in his voice. Shares a few about his old Gaffer, too!

✧ Trips over his words from time to time. He’ll accidentally say the wrong thing and nervously try to laugh it off not realizing how adorable he looks when he blushes ☺️

✧ Sees a pretty flower on the road and immediately thinks of you, plucking it up and twirling it thoughtfully before extending it your way gently, naming his discovery as he does so.

✧ Would give you the shirt off his back if you wanted or needed. Offers you things from his bags a lot ranging from supplies that can ease your passage on this trip to the last of the sweets from The Shire he’d thrown in his pack pockets. Any task you don’t want to do Sam is jumping up to do for you!

Merry

✧ Medium obvious because he makes it his mission to get close to you and hype you up. If you’re oblivious or cynical it could be mistaken as him just being friendly, but it can’t come as a shock the way he’s so eager for your presence!

✧ Acts like you being amazing at things you’ve never even done is a foregone conclusion, like it could be your first time firing with a bow and he’ll be telling everyone what a natural you’ll be, urging you to go on and show them!

✧ Faintly embodies the old adage ‘if they tease you, that means they like you’. He sometimes makes up stories to see if you believe him, chuckling merrily when you do but quickly giving up the ghost again so you don’t have the wrong idea. Others he’ll just poke fun at things you say and egg all of your jokes on, too!

✧ Winks at you on the off time you two make eye contact with each other.

✧ Holds out his hand to you and gives a small bow every time he invites you to dance, asking if he may have it with a devilishly charming grin before he pulls you close.

✧ Whisks you away when he wants you to himself, taking you on a sightseeing adventure or even just foraging. Turns it into an over-the-top skit of him searching and protecting you from the threats of the forest that has you giggling!

Pippin

✧ Oh, you’ll be able to tell! He tries his best to be smooth and is super complimentary and generally wants to be around you 25/8. Even if it comes across goofy, you have to give him props for being forward with his intentions 😌

✧ Practically jumps out of his seat to be the one to help you with anything, whether it’s going fishing, gathering berries or firewood, getting some training in…you name it, he wants to be there for you if you need him!

✧ You may catch him staring at you, whether it’s in awe of your beauty or just straight-up checking you out depends on his mood, but his eyes are almost always flicking back to you in idleness.

✧ Remembers every single detail you share about yourself, like EVERY SINGLE ONE. Knows all your preferences by heart and frequently suggests playing your favorite game or offering to sing your favorite song, likely with an invitation to dance too! Pippin will chime in about your dislikes or allergies before even you can.

✧ Casually begins breaking touch barriers with small gestures like putting a hand on your shoulder during a mock apology for his cousin’s behavior or sitting with your arms brushing. If you don’t seem to mind, he’ll get bolder, slinging an arm over your shoulders during a jolly moment!

✧ Not afraid of compliments, definitely not! Unabashedly (well, mostly anyway, he hides a blush well) tells you that color looks great on you or what a pretty face you’ve got just in casual conversation.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Love Me A Little

Character: Secretary!Bucky x Female!Reader

Words: 1,539

Summary: "Love me, even just a little." When she uttered those words, they struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly bewildered. After all, he was just a secretary—his world and hers seemed galaxies apart.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A/N: Check out the male version of this story - Be Mine.

It was already 1:00 a.m., and the streets lay deserted, easing Bucky's drive. The sleek black Bugatti smoothly entered the apartment basement car park. Just one more turn, and he would find his usual parking spot.

"Screech." The sound of tires screeching echoed in the empty basement.

"Huh?" Bucky's foot instinctively hit the brake as he caught sight of the familiar figure standing in front of his car.

"Y/N?"

It's you. The sole daughter of the Rogers family, the heiress to Starlight Enterprises, a conglomerate spanning oil and gas, telecom, retail, and financial services.

You had fled, prompting the company to dispatch security teams in search of you.

And here you were.

Bucky stepped out of the car. "What are you doing? Don't you realize everyone's been searching for you?"

You scoffed, your tone laced with defiance. "So what? At least everyone will learn that I'm serious. I refuse to marry that guy."

Bucky understood the depth of your frustration. Your family was orchestrating an engagement between you and their business partner. But you vehemently opposed it. He comprehended why; the man they wanted you to marry was notorious—a playboy and a drug addict.

Unable to sway your resolve, Bucky carefully chose his words. "You should go home."

He reached out, gently clasping your hand, his touch pleading, wanting to guide you to safety.

But you recoiled, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to."

Bucky's heart sank, his expression pained. "Your family is worried about you."

Your retort was sharp, cutting. "Are they really? Or are they just afraid of losing their golden ticket?"

A tense silence enveloped them as Bucky grappled with the weight of your words. As the secretary to your brother, Steve, the Vice President, he was privy to the inner workings of wealthy families, aware that most marriages were arranged for business purposes.

Like Steve and Peggy, who defied the odds and found happiness together despite the pressures of their world, you refused to succumb to a loveless marriage.

With teary eyes, you gazed at Bucky, desperation etched in every tear. "I'll tell my parents I'll marry you instead."

Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of your request once more. You had asked him this before, seeking refuge from the loveless future awaiting you. Each time, he had declined.

"Not everything will always go your way," he murmured, his words heavy with resignation. "You've been living in a bubble as Princess Rogers." He paused, unable to bring himself to utter the name of your family's empire. "Now you're facing reality."

You fought back the tears, stung by his harshness. It was the first time Bucky had spoken so coldly to you. "Do you think my feelings for you are fake?"

"My whole life has been arranged from A to Z without my opinion," you continued, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"The only thing I have is my dream of us living happily ever after. Can I at least have that?" Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you struggled to contain your emotions.

"Stop dreaming. Go home," Bucky commanded, his voice firm as he pointed behind you.

'Screech.'

With a screech of tires, a white Mercedes arrived to collect you. It dawned on you that Bucky had already informed the security team of your whereabouts.

As you watched Bucky walk away, a surge of determination washed over you. Clenching your fists, you whispered, "I'll show you."

########

A few days later

The entire Rogers family had gathered for tonight's dinner, including your grandparents, Thomas Rogers, the esteemed founder of the company. Bucky joined the dinner as well, having become one of the company's key figures, seated right beside you.

Despite the gravity of your previous conversation, you seemed to have put it aside, acting as if nothing had happened when you saw Bucky.

The dinner unfolded in its usual extravagant manner, with everyone engaging in polite small talk until dessert was served.

Your grandmother, Anna, broke the silence. "It's wonderful that we could all come together like this. We must discuss our youngest's engagement."

Your mother, Sophia, nodded, her smile gentle. "I met with them four days ago, and we've already ironed out all the details, from the church to the wedding."

Bucky's mind raced. Four days ago? That's precisely when you had gone missing.

Anna's excitement bubbled over. "This wedding will be magnificent. I can hardly contain myself."

But only the two women seemed enthused; your grandfather, Thomas, and your father, Benjamin, remained stoic, while your brother Steve stayed silent.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the air—a sharp "clank" as a fork stabbed into a plate.

All eyes turned to you.

"I don't like it," you stated flatly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Sophia's hand hesitated mid-air, poised to call the waitress, but froze when she heard her daughter's words.

"I don't like anything," you continued, your voice ringing with defiance. "I don't like that person, the wedding, anything."

"Y/N, stop," Sophia interjected, her tone tinged with frustration. "We've discussed this."

"Discuss?" you retorted bitterly. "Do you mean when you ignore my words?"

Anna's patience wore thin. "Y/N, enough with the tantrum. This concerns the entire family."

You crossed your arms defiantly. "I refuse to marry him."

Anna rose from her seat, ready to reprimand you, but a sharp glance from Thomas halted her in her tracks. Without a word, she sank back down, chastened by her husband silent command.

Thomas fixed you with a steady gaze, the same gaze that had once spoiled you as his beloved granddaughter. "Explain to me the reason why."

"I don't love him," you declared, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love someone else."

A sudden palpitation coursed through Bucky's chest. He sensed the situation spiraling out of control.

"Whose the person you love?" Thomas inquired, his voice firm.

You didn't hesitate. "Bucky."

'Ba-dump'

The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the rapid thudding of Bucky's heart echoing in his ears, his mind racing as he grappled with the revelation unfolding before him.

Bucky rose hastily, his intention to apologize to the Chairman halted as your hand clasped his, the determination in your eyes stopping him in his tracks. It was the first time he had seen you like this, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

As all eyes turned towards you, you swallowed hard before speaking up. "And I'm pregnant. Bucky is the father."

The room erupted in chaos as Sophia and Anna screamed in unison.

"What?" they exclaimed in disbelief.

"Bucky! How dare you touch my daughter!" Sophia lunged forward, her hand reaching for Bucky's hair, but Benjamin intervened, restraining her.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest and deny the accusation, but the words stuck in his throat. He was taken by surprise, too.

"Silence," Thomas, the Chairman's authoritative voice, cut through the commotion, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos.

He rose from his seat, followed by Benjamin and Steve, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Fixing Bucky with a steely gaze, Thomas uttered just two words. "A word."

Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he replied, "Yes, Sir," bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

########

In Benjamin's office, Bucky stood before the three men, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon him as they remained silent. Finally, Thomas broke the tension with a direct question. "Is everything true?"

Bucky knelt before his boss and friend, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "No, sir. None of it is true. I've never laid a hand on her."

Thomas's expression softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Good."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, grateful for Thomas's understanding.

But then Benjamin spoke up, his tone contemplative. "Then why don't you like my daughter?"

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head to meet Benjamin's gaze.

"She's better off with you than with that spoiled man," Steve interjected, his voice firm.

Benjamin nodded in agreement, his eyes holding a hint of understanding.

Bucky was taken aback. "What?"

Thomas leaned forward, his voice grave. "The wedding arrangement was orchestrated by my wife and Y/N's mother. I'm relieved my granddaughter took a stand today."

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "I nearly lost my cool when she said she was pregnant. I almost punched you. Thank goodness it was a lie."

Bucky struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Steve's tone softened. "Stay with her. I won't allow my sister to marry that man."

As the men continued their discussion, Bucky's mind raced, unable to fully comprehend the depth of their support.

Excusing himself, Bucky closed the door behind him, only to find you waiting for him outside.

Your worried expression melted his defenses as you approached him.

"What did they say?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

Bucky hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."

You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into a tight hug, his body stiffening like a log. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, determination flashed in your eyes.

"I'll make you love me," you vowed softly. "Even just a little."

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[lividstar]

𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ PALETTE OF DESTINY.

୨ genre ୧ fluff, highschool au

: you’re an aspiring artist who’d very much rather trip over a paintbrush than have people find out about your passion. but when rafayel, the school’s golden boy and president of the art club, stumbles upon your sketchbook on a fateful day by chance, things are destined to take a huge turn – and suddenly, your well-kept talent was no longer much of a secret.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ note ! my break is finally over !! so glad i managed to pull through (also they only allow 10 image insertions so i apologize for the lack of dividers haha)

in the chambers of linkon high, where bonds formed like constellations in the night sky, you and rafayel orbited in separate galaxies. rafayel, with his magnetic charm and sarcastic wit, loved to stand in the center of the spotlight. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. you found solace in the shadows, often keeping to yourself as you went through the days in silence. it was as if your paths were not destined to cross, given how your worlds were practically parallel to each other.

yet beneath rafayel’s facade, a longing for at least a few seconds to himself laid beneath the surface. as much as he pretended to like being the center of attention, even though he would never admit it – not even to himself, he wanted nothing but for those eyes to keep their gazes off of him. after all, having a lot of people like you despite not being remotely close to you only meant one thing – they either have the intention to use you for their own good, or are just keeping an eye on you with the eagerness to watch you trip on your tracks.

you’ve always been thankful for rafayel over hogging the spotlight all the time, which never failed to ensure your chances to be one step away from the crowd everyday.

yet unbeknownst to both you and the crowd that adored rafayel, he has had his eyes on you for a fairly long time now, although it’s not in the usual way you’d expect.

rafayel had always been jealous of how the only attention focusing on you was your own. he was curious about your whole being, because people at school either love him or loathe him, yet you stood on neither sides – which made him both intrigued and grateful. intrigued because he always wonders what you are up to because of how mysterious you were in his eyes, and grateful because at least there’s one person in linkon high who doesn’t really care about his presence.

it only made him want to know more about you, though.

as everyone formed their own groups inside the classroom to chatter and spend their free time to its fullest, thomas leaned over to rafayel, tilting his head at him. “you really have a knack for making every little thing in your life complicated, don’t you? why don't you just go talk to her?” he suggested, nodding towards you who sat at the back, lost in thought by the window.

rafayel shook his head in disagreement, his brows furrowing as he did so. “that’s way too typical- you know i refuse to do things the easy way. also, i don’t want to invade her space or make her uncomfortable.” he replied, glancing over you with a hint of curiosity.

thomas shrugged, understanding rafayel’s reasons. “well, you’re right.” rafayel crossed his arms as he leaned back, looking down on thomas as he sat on the boy’s table. “aren’t i always?” thomas only shook his head, already used to rafayel’s cocky behavior. “no, not really.”

he teased in a flat tone.

“so then, what’s your plan? don’t tell me you intend on following her on her way home after school later just so you could have a one on one moment with each other.” thomas crooked his eyebrow, seemingly skeptical of rafayel’s plans.

rafayel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, like i’d ever do something so cliché- and why are you looking at me as if it’s an idea i’d actually consider?”

“because it is.”

“you-” the sudden ringing of the school bells echoing through the halls cut rafayel off, as students left the classroom one by one with their lunchboxes at hand, headed for the cafeteria. thomas stood up from his seat, patting rafayel’s shoulder as he walked right past the boy sitting on his table. “good luck on your journey of befriending the person who’s very likely to actually be the one who hates you the most.”

“that’s not even-”

this was the second time rafayel had been cut off now. thomas had simply closed the door on him. groaning in annoyance, rafayel hopped off from thomas’s table as he walked towards the front door – the one thomas had just shut to cut him off. but just as he was about leave, rafayel heard a loud thud behind him, making him turn his head quickly.

whatever he was expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t your sketchbook lying on the floor while you were in a deep slumber with your head down on your table.

walking closer towards you with cautious steps, he crouched down, picking up your sketchbook with curiosity. he took his time to examine each and every sticker and doodle on the front cover, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he found it cute.

as he flipped through every page, he found himself becoming more impressed with each sketch he laid his eyes on. he could tell you made sure each and every stroke of your artworks were given enough detail – they didn’t seem like something you made for fun to distract yourself from boring classes, no, rather, they seemed like something you actually put dedication to. you were undoubtedly a skilled artist who has had this hobby for a fairly long time. after all, it takes an expert to know one.

he eventually starts to wonder why you never publicly expressed this talent of yours. as far as his knowledge as the art club’s president led him, you’ve never joined any events related to art – you weren’t even part of the club, to begin with. but why?

something so beautiful should never have been hidden in the first place – at least that’s what he believes.

as he closed your sketchbook and carefully placed it back inside your bag, he found himself in a trance as he glanced at your sleeping expression. based on his observation, it didn’t seem far too different from how you looked when you were awake. you’ve always appeared to be calm, no matter what.

that was one of your traits he was unsure whether he admired or wanted to have as his own.

he decided to leave you to yourself shortly after, but it wasn’t until an idea suddenly came up in his mind. rafayel hurried over to his seat at the center front, rummaging through his bag as he ripped a page off his notebook, taking a pen out of his pocket. the sound of his pen scribbling on the paper softly echoed around the empty classroom as he wrote a note on it.

after carefully putting it inside your bag, he quickly left the room – not after taking a quick glance at you once more. as he searched through the halls to look for thomas, rafayel couldn’t help but wonder how you’d react after reading his little note.

—

“-which reminds me, i went to look for you at the cafeteria earlier, but i didn’t see you anywhere. were you at the rooftop again?” tara asked in curiosity.

“huh? oh... i think i fell asleep.” you pondered as you tried to recall the events before waking up to the sound of your classmates walking back inside the classroom one by one as they chatted loudly. “everyone was already going back to their assigned seats the moment i woke up, so i think that’s the case...”

“i’m not even surprised at this point... but, you know, i do wonder how you manage to fall asleep in your classroom- especially since rafayel’s one of your classmates. i bet it’s really loud there, huh?” she tilted her head.

“i’ve gotten used to it already at this point, i’m afraid...” you rubbed your nape as you chuckled sheepishly. “well, whatever helps you sleep at night. at least now i know where to look for you whenever i don’t see you around during break time- you’re either enjoying your own company at the rooftop, or sleeping in your classroom.” she smiled as she nodded while pointing a finger at you.

you chuckled softly, yet gave her a nod in return as well. “okay, then... take care, tara,” you smiled at her, waving farewell as you parted ways.

“bye-bye!”

you were already far deep into the night. your surroundings engulfed you with a deafening silence, as the dim glow of the moonlight passed through your bedroom window. you’ve been on a staring contest with your ceiling for approximately 10 minutes now, uncomfortably laying down on your back. this was exactly why you tried to avoid sleeping during the day as much as possible – you’d always end up having way too much energy to fall asleep.

groaning softly as you sat up, you reached for your bedside lamp as you switched it open, the empty space of the bed in front of you deflating as you placed your bag on it. rummaging through your items, you searched for your sketchbook, wanting to have something to do to distract yourself from the long night.

it was then that your hands stumbled upon a small crumpled piece of paper.

at first, you were confused – the paper was unfamiliar to you, so there was no way it was ripped off of something of your property. you unfolded it carefully, curious about what was written on it.

“the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)”

your eyes widened slightly in disbelief as you read the words written on the paper – this could only mean one thing.

someone had seen your artworks.

but how? and when? you tried to backtrack, and that was when you remembered that the last thing you saw before you fell asleep was your sketchbook. so then, now you were stuck wondering whether the note’s intention was to give a compliment or to make fun of you in a passive aggressive way.

opening your phone as you lightly squinted after being practically blinded with its blindness, you searched for tara’s number in your contacts, immediately dialing her number the moment you found it.

the soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated the room as you sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

after a few rings, tara’s energetic voice filled the line. “hey, you! what’s up?” she greeted cheerfully. “how do you manage to remain enthusiastic even in the middle of the night...?” you pondered, a confused expression on your face.

“drinking iced coffee four times in a row in one sitting, maybe?” and with the tone she used, you weren’t even sure whether it was a lighthearted joke to uplift the atmosphere or if she actually meant it. nevertheless, you just let out a sigh.

“why the sudden late night call, though? can’t sleep?” tara asked from the other line. “well, if i called a few minutes earlier, i guess that would’ve been the case...” you trailed off, looking down at the note you held in your hand. “huh? what do you mean?”

“i was rummaging through my bag to look for my sketchbook earlier, and i stumbled upon something strange...” tara didn’t even let you finish, already exclaiming eagerly the moment you said the word “strange.”

“mysterious findings, you say? i’m all ears!”

you looked at the note once again, reading it aloud to tara. “i found this note. it says... ‘the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)’. i don’t know how, when, and where it got here, though.”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by tara’s gasp of realization. “oh my, that sounds like something straight out of a shoujo manga! wait- maybe it’s a secret admirer!”

you awkwardly chuckled, quickly dismissing it as unlikely. “what? no, i doubt it, tara.. i don’t believe it’s possible.” you replied, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

“what? hey, don’t sell yourself short!” tara chided gently. “you’re amazing, and it’s very likely someone out there clearly sees it- as they should! i mean, does the note not say it enough?”

you couldn’t help but smile at tara’s unwavering optimism, her words offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. “my point still stands, but i appreciate it, really. but then again, you never know whether someone’s messing around with you or not in our school..”

tara remained silent for about a couple seconds. “now that you mentioned it... wait, what if the person who saw it was one of your gossip-obsessed classmates? what if they spill the beans until it reaches the art club?”

a pang of worry shot through you at tara’s theories, the thought of your private hobby becoming public knowledge leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “i hadn't thought of that," you admitted worriedly. “i’d really hate for that to happen..."

tara’s tone softened, her concern evident in her voice. “let’s hope that’s not the case- i’d prefer for the mysterious person to be a secret admirer of yours and not the latter. and hey, even if it does get out, your talent deserves to be recognized, y’know?” she reassured you.

feeling a sense of relief wash over you, you thanked tara for her understanding before bidding her goodnight. as you settled back into bed, the warmth of tara’s friendship enveloped you, easing the uncertainty that had plagued your thoughts.

you felt the corners of your lips tilt upwards as you stifled a chuckle. you’ve always been grateful to have tara as your best friend, because her outgoing personality fits just right with your likeliness to remain self-reserved all the time. her loud presence had a perfect contrast to your quiet aura – which made everything between your friendship just go so well.

if you had a dollar for each time people would wonder how you two manage to tolerate each other’s presence, you’d be on a yacht right now – they’d always ask comments such as, “don’t you feel overwhelmed by tara’s enthusiasm?” or if not, they’d go like, “how does tara manage not to get bored by your consistent silence?” yet you two would only brush it off every single time.

you two were glad to have each other in your lives, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

glancing at the small piece of paper on your hand once more, you let out a sigh as you put it back inside your bag, finally feeling exhaustion spread all over your body. you figured there was no longer a need for sketching the night away at this point, so you placed your bag away as you switched your bedside lamp off, wrapping yourself around your blanket as your eyes fluttered shut.

as much as you tried to deny it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to who the mysterious person who put the note inside your bag was.

and you had a bad, bad feeling that it’ll turn out to be someone you’ll least expect.

“first of all, you’re really, really stupid. second of all, you’re very stupid. lastly- holy hell, you’re actually so stupid!” thomas’s frustration echoed through the empty classroom as he frantically searched through his bag, his fingers desperately seeking the familiar touch of his phone screen.

rafayel’s incredulous expression mirrored his disbelief. “wha- now it’s on me?!” he retorted, his hands instinctively moving to his chest in a defensive gesture. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, mr. thomas, but when you indulge in utterly foolish activities, you’ll have to shoulder the consequences afterward. it’s very immature of you to pass it on to other people simply because admitting that you're dumb puts your ego in pain,” rafayel asserted, crossing his arms in a display of dominance.

thomas’s sarcastic tone cut through the air like a knife. “are you done talking now, shakespeare? do you finally have the time to lend me a hand?” he quipped, his eyes practically rolling in their sockets.

“why should i?” rafayel shot back, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“because you were the one who left my bag open before we headed here! if it weren’t for you, my phone wouldn’t have—" thomas’s words were abruptly cut off by rafayel’s hand covering his mouth, muffling his protests.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll go look for it, or whatever. can you shut your mouth now?” rafayel rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his uniform as he released thomas.

just as thomas was about to retaliate with a snarky remark, rafayel sauntered past him with a smug expression, heading toward the stairs. “that’s what you call payback, thomas," he called over his shoulder, winking as he waved him farewell.

“rafayel, you-!”

rafayel relished the cool morning breeze as it caressed his skin, the tranquil atmosphere of the rooftop offering a brief respite from his hectic schedule. “guess this wasn’t a bad idea after all, huh?” he mused to himself, settling onto the floor and allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection.

closing his eyes, he momentarily forgot his purpose for coming to the rooftop. however, his peaceful reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name – soft chuckles he had heard every once in a blue moon during class.

“rafayel...?”

opening his eyes, he was taken aback to see you standing before him. “oh- hey,” he greeted casually, attempting to maintain his usual air of confidence. which was strange – being laid-back usually came naturally to him.

yet, in your presence, it felt different, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“um... what brings you up here?” you asked, your tone curious yet cautious at the same time. rafayel chuckled softly before replying, “well, i could say the same for you. what’s your story?”

you hesitated for a moment, not used to being the center of attention- and neither were you expecting him to pass the question back to you. “well, i usually come up here during free time,” you explained, feeling a bit vulnerable sharing this with someone.

“oh? why’s that?” rafayel inquired, patting the floor beside him, inviting you to join him. you were a little hesitant at first, but rafayel’s easygoing demeanor put you at ease. “it’s nothing special... i just find it peaceful, away from the chaos of the school,” you explained, finally taking a seat beside him.

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i get that. sometimes you just need a quiet place to escape to.” you nodded in agreement to his words. “what about you...?” you asked, shooting the question back to him.

“well, you see,” rafayel launched into the backstory of his rooftop adventure, recounting the events that had transpired earlier. “ thomas and i had a little spat over his missing phone, and things got a tad heated,” rafayel explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “he’s convinced i had a hand in its disappearance, but i swear i’m completely innocent.” he said in defense, holding his hands up.

“he didn’t seem like he was going to stop putting up a fight anytime sooner, though, so i just went along with his orders and told him i’ll go look for it- and you’re probably wondering what that has got to do with me going up here, but i figured it’d be easier to search for it from above, because, well, maybe he dropped it on the ground or something.” he shrugged.

listening to his animated storytelling, you found yourself drawn in by the humor of the situation. unable to contain it, a stifled laugh escaped your lips at a particularly amusing part of his story.

surprised by the genuine warmth of your laughter, rafayel couldn’t help but smile, his own laughter mingling with yours. realizing the significance of the moment, you quickly composed yourself, returning to your usual calm demeanor as if nothing had happened. “well...”

with the school bells signaling the start of the first period, your conversation with rafayel was cut short. as he stood up, he fixed his uniform, running his hands through his hair. “wanna walk to our class together? it’s not like we go to separate rooms, anyway.”

you were hesitant to accept his offer at first, but you figured there’d be no harm in agreeing anyway. you then found yourselves walking side by side down the hallway, headed to your shared classroom. the atmosphere was laced with a subtle awkwardness, and rafayel, always the entertainer, couldn’t resist breaking the silence.

“so, do you have any exciting plans for today?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. you glanced at him, “me? well... not really, just the usual routine,” you replied softly, appreciating the effort he made to fill the silence.

he chuckled. “routine, huh? well, maybe today will be different. who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden talent or stumble upon a secret club meeting.” rafayel gestured dramatically, creating an imaginary scenario with a playful smirk.

you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, the shared moment of lightheartedness making the walk to class a little more enjoyable.

just as the silence was starting to settle yet again, rafayel came up with yet another topic to discuss. “so, what do you think the chances are of mr. nero bringing up quadratic equations again today?”

you couldn’t help but become amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. “knowing mr. nero... i’d say the chances are pretty high, maybe? but, i don’t know... maybe he’ll surprise us and throw in some trigonometry instead.”

rafayel grinned, pleased with your response. “ah, the joys of high school math. it’s like a rollercoaster ride, isn’t it?” you nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction from the usual quietness of your interactions with rafayel. as you reached the classroom door, rafayel gestured for you to enter first.

“after you,” he said with a smile. “i’ll catch up in a minute.” confused by his sudden change in routine, you hesitated for a moment before stepping into the classroom. once inside, you found your seat at the back of the room and settled in, glancing over your to the front door to see rafayel entering a few minutes later.

as he entered the classroom, all eyes naturally turned towards him, the usual attention that followed the school’s golden boy. however, what surprised you was the way his gaze briefly connected with yours, despite having everyone’s gaze focused on him. in that fleeting moment, there was a hint of something different in his smile, something that caught you off guard.

confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him take his seat. was it just a simple gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning? you couldn’t help but return his smile with a small one of your own, though uncertainty lingered in the air.

mr. nero began the lesson, and you pushed aside the thoughts about what just happened, focusing instead on the task at hand. but the memory of that moment stayed with you, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the back of your mind.

as rafayel settled into his seat, thomas leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “so, did you find it?” rafayel glanced at thomas with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “find what?” thomas rolled his eyes. “my phone, genius. the one you conveniently lost.”

rafayel feigned innocence, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, that. well, let’s just say it’s still out there, waiting to be discovered.” thomas groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible, you know that?” rafayel simply shrugged, his attention now focused on the front of the classroom.

meanwhile, thomas seized the opportunity to get his revenge, crumpling a piece of paper and taking aim at rafayel’s head. with a flick of his wrist, he let it fly, but to his dismay, it veered off course, heading straight for mr. nero instead.

as mr. nero’s stern voice filled the classroom, rafayel’s grin faltered, replaced by a mask of feigned innocence as he faced his wrath as the whole class erupted into a fit of laughter.

“rafayel, care to explain why there’s a projectile flying through my classroom?” mr. nero’s tone was sharp, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

rafayel glanced sheepishly at thomas, who was struggling to contain his laughter. “wha- me? sir, i swear it wasn’t-”

“quit beating around the bush! is it really that difficult to act in an orderly manner?” mr. nero crossed his arms, a frustrated expression on his face.

“well, i just- it was an accident, sir. i assure you, i had no intention of disrupting the class.”

thomas couldn’t resist chiming in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “yeah, right. because accidentally throwing things seems to be a common occurrence for mr. perfect over here.”

the class erupted into laughter once more, and rafayel felt a pang of irritation at thomas’s teasing. he was supposed to be annoyed, but as he glanced towards the back of the room and saw you stifling a laugh, he couldn’t help but soften. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take the blame just this once after all.

caught in the moment, rafayel played along with the situation, flashing a glare at thomas before turning back to face mr. nero. “sorry, sir. it won’t happen again.”

thomas leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “nice aim, raf. maybe next time you’ll hit your target.”

“shut up.”

you and tara were supposed to go home together, but her girlfriend, jenna, the student council president, had a date planned for both of them after school, leaving you to head home alone. just as you were heading towards the gate, you noticed a phone lying on the floor. curiosity piqued, you picked it up and unlocked it, revealing a childhood photo of rafayel and thomas as the wallpaper. this must be the missing phone rafayel was referring to.

wondering where they might be, you remembered rafayel’s role as the president of the art club and headed towards the art room. pushing open the door, you found the room empty except for rafayel, his back turned to you as he focused on his painting.

“rafayel?” you called out suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise, accidentally smudging a stroke of red on his canvas.

as soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to see you to know it was you. still, he turned to face you, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“what brings you here?” he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. you hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “um, i found this phone outside, and i thought it might belong to thomas. i was going to return it to him, but i couldn’t find him.”

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i see. well, i owe you my entire life- now i no longer have to worry about him nagging into my ear about his missing phone.”

before you could respond, your eyes fell on the smudged red stroke on rafayel’s painting, and you couldn’t help but point it out, apologizing profusely for potentially ruining his masterpiece.

“oh no- i’m so sorry, rafayel...! i didn’t mean to mess up your painting...” you apologized, feeling genuinely remorseful for your unintentional mistake.

rafayel examined the mark for a moment before dismissing your apology with a casual wave of his hand. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “in fact, i think it adds something to the painting.”

perplexed, you questioned his reasoning, prompting rafayel to introduce you to the red string theory. as he explained the concept, you listened intently, captivated by the depth of his perspective on art.

“so, you see, the red string represents the invisible connections between people,” rafayel elaborated. “it’s said that those connected by the red string are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. even though it’s invisible, it binds us all together in unexpected ways.”

his explanation resonated with you, and you nodded in understanding, impressed by the philosophical depth of his interpretation. “that’s why i believe the stroke of red on my canvas adds more meaning to it,” rafayel concluded, his eyes gleaming with passion.

you were awestruck by his insight, realizing that his role as the club president was well-deserved. though you considered yourself an artist, rafayel’s level of understanding elevated your appreciation for the craft.

“actually,” rafayel began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “why don’t we add both our names to the painting?” your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “both our names? but it’s your artwork. i don’t want to impose or take credit for something i didn’t create.”

rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “it’s not about credit, it’s about meaning. your accidental contribution gave this painting a story- a connection. it wouldn’t be the same without it.” you considered his words, realizing the depth of his sentiment. “oh... alright, then.”

with a warm smile, rafayel handed you the marker, gesturing towards the bottom of the canvas. “go ahead, write your name next to mine. together, we’ll leave our mark on this piece.”

grateful for the opportunity to be a part of something meaningful, you carefully inscribed your name alongside his, feeling a sense of pride and camaraderie in the shared moment.

as mr. nero’s voice filled the classroom, announcing the upcoming event proposed by the art club, the room buzzed with excitement.

“attention, students! i’m pleased to announce that the art club has proposed an extraordinary event. it is a school-wide art exhibition centered around the theme of ‘strings of affection: capturing love’s melodies,’” mr. nero declared, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.

“this exhibition aims to delve into the complexities of love and its complex manifestations.” whispers and murmurs erupted among the students, excitement evident in the air.

“during the exhibition, each participating student will have the opportunity to display their artwork in the school gallery,” mr. nero continued, gesturing to a large poster board adorned with colorful flyers. “artworks can include paintings, drawings, sculptures, photography- anything that captures the essence of love.”

sitting at the back of the class, you found yourself lost in thought, your fingers fidgeting anxiously under the table. “the theme encourages exploration of various aspects of love, including romantic love, familial bonds, friendships, and self-love,” mr. nero elaborated, his voice carrying a note of significance. “we encourage each of you to delve deep into your hearts and minds to convey your unique interpretations of love through your artwork.”

the idea of participating in the art exhibition sparked a mix of excitement and apprehension within you. could you summon the courage to explore such a profound theme and share your interpretation of love with the entire school?

glancing around the room, you noticed people exchanging excited whispers with their friends, their eyes alight with anticipation, whereas the others were nodding to each other in silent agreement, perhaps contemplating their own interpretations of love for their submissions.

despite the lively chatter filling the room, you felt a sense of isolation, the weight of your decision resting solely on your shoulders. as mr. nero concluded his announcement and the chatter in the classroom continued, you found yourself lost in thought, pondering the depth of love and whether you were ready to explore it through your art.

as you sat there, wrestling with your decision about whether to join the art exhibition, the note you found in your bag earlier suddenly came to mind. pulling it out, you studied the words written on it, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

lost in your contemplation, you were startled when a paper plane soared through the air, landing neatly on your desk. with curious fingers, you unfolded it, revealing a short message scrawled across the paper.

“gonna join? - R”

your gaze darted around the classroom, searching for the sender, until you locked eyes with rafayel, who was seated at the center front. heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly stuffed the crumpled note back into your pocket, pursing your lips. you redirected your attention to the unfolded paper plane, hoping to conceal your flustered reaction.

for a brief moment, rafayel’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. it dawned on him that the note you hastily concealed was the same one he had written and placed in your bag the day he stumbled upon your sketchbook.

as you exchanged a smile with rafayel, a wave of warmth washed over you, mingled with a tinge of uncertainty about the mysterious note and the unexpected connection it represented.

rafayel couldn’t shake the desire to speak with you directly, to bridge the gap between them rather than relying on secretive notes. but with gour classmates constantly surrounding him, initiating a conversation without drawing attention to you was a challenge.

turning to his friend thomas, rafayel leaned in close, whispering urgently, “hey, can you do me a favor? tell her to meet me at the rooftop during breaktime.”

thomas raised an eyebrow, shooting rafayel a curious look. “what am i, your loyal butler or something? why don’t you just talk to her yourself?”

rafayel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i don’t want to make it seem like a big deal, you know? plus, it might be less suspicious if it’s coming from you.”

thomas groaned, shaking his head. “you’re hopeless- really hopeless. but since it appears i have no other choice, i’ll pass on the message. just don’t screw it up, yeah?”

as thomas approached you, confusion was etched on your face as you greeted him awkwardly. “oh- hey... what is it?”

he cracked a small grin, noticing your confusion. “hey there. that insufferable purple-haired guy at the front wanted me to let you know to meet him at the rooftop later during break time," he explained while gesturing towards rafayel, his tone friendly.

your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected message, and you stammered out a reply, “huh? oh, uh, okay. thanks for telling me.”

with a casual wave, thomas returned to rafayel, leaving you in contemplative silence. as your gaze lingered on their interaction, rafayel’s eyes remained fixed on you, adding a layer of intrigue to the message delivered through thomas.

perched on the rooftop, you found solace in the quiet surroundings, immersed in the act of sketching. the image of a sleeping cat with a delicate flower petal atop its head unfolded gracefully on the pages of your sketchbook, each stroke carefully crafted.

lost in your artistic reverie, you failed to sense rafayel's stealthy approach from behind. just as he was poised to startle you with a playful “boo,” your world shattered into chaos as you swung around in alarm, inadvertently smacking him in the face with your sketchbook.

the moment hung in the air, frozen in time, as rafayel recoiled in surprise, his hand instinctively rising to cradle his nose. wide-eyed and mortified, you stammered out an apology, “oh my gosh, rafayel! i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to-”

caught off guard, rafayel playfully teased, “well, that's one way to say hello, isn’t it? didn’t know my face doubled as a notebook magnet.”

you blushed, flustered by the unexpected collision, “i really didn’t mean to hit you, rafayel. sorry...!”

his laughter echoed, resonating with an easygoing charm, “no harm done. i’ve endured worse for a good laugh. besides, it’s about time someone hit me with a notebook- adds a bit of excitement to my day.”

rafayel’s curiosity piqued as he pointed to your sketchbook, asking, “what’s that you’re writing?” you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to reveal your secret passion, but his playful curiosity was too infectious to resist. “oh, it’s just some sketches,” you replied softly, flipping through the pages to reveal the drawing of the cat you saw earlier.

rafayel leaned in, genuine curiosity evident in his eyes as he examined the drawing. “whoa... you drew this? that’s really good!”

you felt a rush of relief at his positive reaction, showing him the reference photo you took earlier. “yeah, i saw this cat on my way to school this morning and couldn’t resist sketching it."

his grin widened as he glanced between the drawing and the photo, barely even noticing any differences. “you’ve got some serious talent, you know that?”

feeling awkward at the unexpected compliment, you muttered a shy thank you, feeling a sense of warmth spreading in the midst of your quiet rooftop rendezvous.

“makes me wonder... why aren’t you part of the art club?” not expecting rafayel’s sudden question, you chuckled nervously. “well, you know, i’m just really busy with school and stuff.”

rafayel didn’t seem convinced. “is that really the reason?” he inquired softly, his tone genuine and caring. you hesitated, feeling reluctant. “actually, i’m just... i’m a bit self-conscious about my skills. i don’t really want anyone to find out about it.”

rafayel’s expression softened, understanding evident in his eyes. “may i?” he asked, reaching for your sketchbook. nodding silently, you watched as he flipped through every page, his eyes widening in genuine surprise and admiration. he lingered over each artwork, appreciating the detail and emotion captured in your sketches.

as he closed the sketchbook and placed it back on the ground, he uttered words that struck a sense of familiarity within you.

“the world deserves to witness how talented you are, you know?”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, a memory surfacing of the note you had found in your bag after that day you fell asleep in school. it said the exact same thing. before you could inquire further, rafayel stood up and reached out to you. confused yet intrigued, you took his hand, and without hesitation, he led you on a journey through the school, eventually arriving at the art room.

as you stood there, taking in the familiar sights of the art supplies and canvases, rafayel turned to you with a warm smile. “i thought maybe you could use a little encouragement to share your talent with the world,” he explained softly. you blinked in confusion. “what are we doing here?”

rafayel’s smile was gentle as he took your hand, placing a paintbrush in one and a palette in the other. he led you towards the largest canvas in the room. “what am i supposed to do...?” you inquired, tilting your head in puzzlement.

rafayel’s smile widened as he picked up a paintbrush and palette for himself. “do what you do best,” he replied. “huh?”

with a sense of determination, rafayel painted a bold black line down the center of the canvas, separating it into two distinct halves. “every five minutes, we’ll switch and continue each other’s paintings,” he explained, his voice calm yet full of purpose.

you nodded, intrigued by the challenge, and began your half of the canvas with soft, lighthearted portraits and delicate strokes. your colors were gentle and inviting, focusing on capturing the essence and aura of the subjects with a sense of warmth and innocence.

as the minutes passed, you and rafayel seamlessly switched, each adding your own touches to the other’s work. rafayel’s side of the canvas was a masterpiece of emotion and complexity, with mesmerizing details and layers of meaning poured into every stroke.

“you’re quite the artist, you know,” rafayel remarked as he added a flourish to your portrait, his tone praising. you blushed at the compliment, unsure how to respond.

somewhere in the middle of the exchange, rafayel not-so-accidentally brushed a small portion of paint onto your cheek. “oops, my hand slipped-”

and so did yours, it appears, as you left a mark of paint on his nose. you stifled a chuckle as you feigned innocence, “um, sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft yet sarcastic.

rafayel laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “congrats- you’ve officially caught me off guard!” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

as the playful exchange continued, each stroke of paint serving as a reminder of your shared connection, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. it was as if, in this moment, you were shedding your inhibitions and embracing the joy of simply being yourself around rafayel.

and as the final touches were added and you both stepped back to admire the masterpiece you had created together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. little did you know, as you looked at the painting, rafayel was looking at you with admiration in his eyes, captivated by the quiet strength and beauty he saw reflected in you.

"so, about that note...” you began tentatively, but rafayel cut you off with a nonchalant, “yeah, that was me,” accompanied by a shrug and a playful grin.

“you...?” surprise tinged your voice as you glanced at him, and rafayel nodded with a hint of mischief, pointing to himself.

“i mean, seriously though, you’re really talented. if you joined the club, you could totally be running the show instead of me,” rafayel suggested, his tone a blend of sincerity and teasing.

“i can’t tell if you’re trying to flatter me or if you’re trying to recruit a new member for your club...” you replied with a small chuckle, earning a grin from rafayel.

“oh, come on, i’ve already got a bunch of members, most of whom couldn’t care less about art. it’s a bit frustrating, to be honest- it’s like they’re not even there to appreciate the beauty of art in the first place,” rafayel lamented, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“maybe they’re just there for you,” you offered, watching as rafayel nodded in acknowledgment, his expression thoughtful. “it’s not as glamorous as it seems, you know? being popular means you’re always in the spotlight, whether you like it or not. it’s exhausting,” rafayel admitted with a sigh, his frustration evident.

“so, that’s the price of popularity...” you mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for rafayel’s predicament.

“that’s why you caught my eye. you never seemed to crave that attention, and i found that refreshing.” rafayel confessed, his tone softening as he opened up to you. “i wanted to get to know someone who saw me for me, not just as who i’m made out to be.”

“huh?” you murmured, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity at his words.

“i’ve always admired how you kept to yourself, not letting the whole popularity thing affect you. it made me want to know more about you,” rafayel explained, his gaze holding a hint of something deeper that intrigued you.

“so... what do you mean?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by rafayel’s candid confession. he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. “y’know, it’s just... these days, it feels like everyone is so caught up in their social status, popularity, reputation, you name it. and despite never wanting to be, i’ve been pushed into the center of all that because of the way people are way too interested in my life,” he explained, his voice tinged with frustration.

“people like you, who are genuine and don’t use others as stepping stones to become popular, are rare.” rafayel continued, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity. “your presence feels like a breath of fresh air in a world where everyone is so focused on climbing the social ladder.”

oh. “i never expected someone to see me that way...” you admitted, your eyes meeting rafayel’s with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. his expression softened as he listened, his gaze filled with understanding. “i guess we both had our assumptions about each other,” he mused.

you nodded in agreement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “the reason why i least expected you to be the one who put that note in my bag was because i always felt like we orbited in separate galaxies," you admitted, and rafayel listened carefully.

“it was as if you stood under the sun, whereas i found solace in the dark. i’ve always admired the way you easily socialized and blended in with the crowd, wishing it was something i could do, too.”

rafayel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at your words, and you felt a rush of nerves at having laid bare your innermost thoughts to him. but as you saw the understanding and empathy in his gaze, you knew you had made the right decision in sharing your feelings with him.

“but now, knowing your perspective regarding your popularity, i feel like my perspective has just changed as a whole,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.

“maybe we’re not as different as we thought, huh?” he said, an amused expression on his face as he suddenly took your hand and held it within his gentle grasp.

“huh...? i...” to say you were at a loss for words and had no idea what to feel over the sudden gesture would be a huge understatement. it didn’t help that holding your hand seemed to be something casual to rafayel, either. “i guess...” you trailed off, looking down on the ground to avoid his gaze.

the familiar ringing of the school bells echoed across the walls of the empty art room yet again, cutting your conversation short – like it always did. yet this time, you were grateful for it. had it not interrupted both of you, you’d be a stammering mess by now.

rafayel let go of your hand, putting one of his hands in his pocket. “i’ll see your name somewhere at the art exhibit, then?” he tilted his head, sending you a wink before heading out, leaving you all by yourself as you looked at the large canvas in front of you once more.

perhaps grabbing an opportunity standing right in front of you wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.

—

it had been three nights. three nights of you frustratingly ripping pages off of your sketchbook simply because your ideas kept clashing with each other everytime you laid it out on the pieces of paper sprawled out in front of you. your artworks were merely a product of your own will – none of which were required for a specific occasion, at least not until now.

love.

how were you supposed to convey the meaning of a feeling you weren’t sure you have ever felt in your entire life? not even the romance books stacked up in your shelves could make up for an inspiration. within each tick of the clock, the day of the art exhibit kept inching closer, making you dread every passing second.

letting out a frustrated sigh as you laid your head down on your study table, you were no longer sure if you still wanted to participate in the event anymore. maybe you should’ve just shut down rafayel’s expectations of you partaking in the art exhibit while it was still early – hold on.

that was it. that was exactly it. if you needed to seek guidance from someone whose field of expertise is art, there was no longer a necessity for searching all over your surroundings – the answer was already right in front of you.

you weren’t sure when his contact number got on your phone, but you were grateful for it nonetheless – maybe he added it during your collaboration in the art room while your attention was focused on something else. dialing the number, you waited patiently for him to pick up as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“what up, buttercup?”

the unexpected lowering of the pitch of his voice, void of its usual sarcasm and sass, caught you off guard. it carried a hint of raspiness, a sign he might have been roused from sleep. and suddenly, regaining composure became a priority for you.

“oh- did i interrupt your sleep? i’m sorry, i’ll-” he was quick to cut you off from the other line, immediately brushing off your concern. “nah, don’t worry about it. what’s gotten you all up late in the night, though?” he asked curiously.

“um, well, you see,” you stammered, struggling to articulate your frustration. “regarding the art exhibit event you and your club launched... i just can’t seem to find the right way to express... love,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafayel’s curiosity piqued. “why’s that?” he inquired gently, sensing the weight behind your words. “i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. “it’s just... how do you convey a feeling you’ve never experienced?”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line before rafayel spoke again, his voice softer than before. “you mean... you’ve never fallen in love before?” he asked, a hint of surprise evident in his tone.

reluctantly, you confirmed his assumption with a quiet nod, even though he couldn’t see you. rafayel let out a soft sigh, the sound conveying both understanding and reassurance.

truth be told, that was the last thing he had expected to hear from you – but then again, the world’s always full of surprises, isn’t it?

“hey, no shame in that, yeah? we’ll find a way for you,” he said gently. “meet me tomorrow morning at linkon tower?”

your heart fluttered at the prospect of his help, and you agreed eagerly, grateful for his support. “okay,” you replied, a sense of relief washing over you. “thank you, rafayel...”

“anything for you.”

—

as you stood waiting in front of linkon tower, the morning breeze tousling your hair, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. the anticipation of meeting rafayel was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your bag as you scanned the area.

suddenly, you spotted rafayel running towards you,an apologetic expression on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands. “fashionably late, as always,” he quipped, his tone light as he caught his breath.

you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing remark, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over you. “i was starting to think you’d gotten lost in the crowd...”

rafayel chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes as he approached you. “nah, just had to battle my way through the caffeine-deprived masses,” he replied, holding out one of the cups of coffee to you. “one caramel latte, just how you like it- hopefully.”

you accepted the coffee with a grateful smile, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “oh- for me? thank you...!” you said softly, taking a sip of the steaming beverage.

he flashed you a charming grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “no need to thank me at all. like i said last night- anything for you, right?”

blushing at his words, you couldn’t help but feel a need to change the topic. “so... what's the plan for today?” you asked, eager to find out what creative ideas Rafayel had in mind.

he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his own coffee. “well, i thought we could take a stroll around the park, soak in some inspiration from nature,” he suggested, his tone relaxed. “unless you have any other brilliant ideas up your sleeve?”

you shook your head with a shy smile, feeling grateful for the way he took the lead. “no, that sounds perfect,” you replied, falling into step beside him as you set off towards the nearby park. as you walked, the gentle chatter between you and rafayel filled the air, the warmth of the morning sun casting a golden glow over your skin.

while taking your time to admire your surroundings, your eyes then caught sight of a cat sitting on a bench. gasping in awe, you couldn’t help but to tug on the sleeve of his cardigan, immediately pointing to it- and the next thing you knew was he was practically holding onto you for dear life, looking at the creature with a horrified expression on his face.

you stifled a chuckle, not expecting the sudden action from rafayel out of all people. “rafayel, are you, perhaps... scared of cats?” you tilted your head, waiting for an answer. “scared? hah, please, like i’d ever- get it away from me!”

you held up the cat in front of him, laughing as you watched him hurriedly take a few steps back. he was about to completely turn his back to you in fear of getting scratched by the feline’s claws, but it wasn’t until he came to realization that this was the first time he has ever heard you laugh – all he’s ever heard from you were short giggles and stifled chuckles.

he admired you in awe without even realization dawning upon him that he was, staring at you as you kept inching the cat closer to him. “you do know it’s more afraid of us than we are of it, right?”

your voice pulled him out of the bottom of his thoughts, making him flinch slightly as he tried to play off the fact he just called you beautiful in his head.

he feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “oh, please, don’t underestimate the cunning behavior of these creatures,” he replied with a smirk. “they may look innocent, but behind those whiskers lie a mastermind plotting world domination.”

you couldn’t help but find his dramatic antis childish, yet couldn’t suppress your laughter. “alright, fine, i’ll handle this dangerous mission myself," you joked, putting the cat back down on the ground.

as you practically dragged Rafayel towards the ice cream parlor, his laughter echoed through the air. “woah, slow down! i didn’t know it was possible to love ice cream this much.” he remarked, amusement all over his eyes.

you flashed him a bright smile in return. “don’t we all?” you replied, unable to contain your excitement as you joined the line behind a group of eager kids. while waiting for your turn, the sweet aroma of freshly made ice cream filled the air, making your mouth almost water in anticipation. rafayel observed your enthusiasm with a fond smile, clearly amused by your excitement.

finally, it was your turn to order, and you wasted no time selecting a combination of three of your favorite flavors. as the server handed you your towering cone, you struggled to balance it in your hands, wanting not to let a single scoop go to waste.

rafayel chuckled at your efforts. “looks like you’ve got your hands full there,” he teased, buying the same flavors you had chosen. “i’ll have the same, just in case yours decides to take a tumble.”

—

while you and rafayel were strolling along, you stumbled upon an old vendor selling flowers. the vendor greeted both of you warmly, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes. “one for your lovely lady, sir?” he asked, gesturing towards you with a knowing smile. yet before you could interject and clarify that you weren't a couple, rafayel was quick to respond, his voice charming. “i’ll have a bouquet, if you may,” he said with a playful wink, catching you off guard.

“huh? rafayel, you-” his actions caught you by surprise, making you stumble over your words. yet even if you wanted to clarify your relationship with rafayel to the old man, you found yourself not doing so, having a feeling that no matter how you tried to deny it, rafayel would eventually find a way to brush your reasonings off. and you weren’t even sure why he’d do such a thing- you just knew he would.

as the vendor handed rafayel a beautiful bouquet, he offered a nostalgic reflection. “ah young love. you two remind me of me and my wife during the days we were still young... I hope the best for both of you,” he said with heartfelt sincerity.

rafayel played along effortlessly, nodding in agreement. “i hope so too, sir.” he replied with a grin, accepting the bouquet with a flourish.

as you both walked away from the vendor, you couldn't help but be confused at the unexpected exchange. before you could question rafayel about his actions, he leaned into the playful act even further, bowing theatrically in front of you.

“for you, my lady.” he said with mock formality, offering you the bouquet with a mischievous hint in his eyes. you couldn’t suppress a laugh as you accepted the flowers. “well... while, thank you, kind sir,” you tried to reply with equal playfulness, making rafayel laugh in response.

—

inside the arcade, the bright lights and buzzing sounds of the games immediately filled the air, igniting a sense of excitement within you both. making your way to the claw machine, rafayel insisted on taking the first turn, his determination evident in the way he eagerly inserted coins and maneuvered the claw.

you watched with amusement while he focused intently on the task at hand, heavily concentrated as he attempted to win you a plushie. but despite his persistence, the claw came up empty-handed each time, much to his dismay.

as the claw machine swallowed another round of coins, rafayel’s competitive spirit seemed undeterred. “alright, watch closely,” he declared while positioning the claw with precision. you couldn't help but admire his persistence, even as the plushie continued to escape his grasp. “you’ve got this,” you encouraged him, unable to contain a smile at his unwavering focus.

but as the claw went down for yet another attempt, rafayel’s expression shifted from confidence to disbelief as it once again came up empty. “what?! how did i miss that?!” he exclaimed, his frustration evident as he shook his head in disbelief.

with each failed attempt, rafayel’s facade of confidence began to crack, replaced by exaggerated frustration and protests. “this machine is rigged, i’m telling you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “it’s like it’s got a personal vendetta against me or something.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “um, maybe you should let me have a go at it?” you suggested, feeling a rush of nervousness as rafayel turned to look at you. he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, you think you can do any better, huh?” he teased, already stepping aside to let you take your turn.

with a small smile, you approached the machine, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. as you focused on the task at hand, you couldn't help but feel rafayel’s eyes on you, his presence both comforting and slightly unnerving at the same time. you maneuvered the claw into position, holding your breath as you watched it go down towards the plushie of your choice. and then, with a satisfying clink, the claw closed around the prize, lifting it triumphantly into the air.

you couldn’t contain your joy as you retrieved the plushie from the machine, holding it up for rafayel to see with a huge smile. “i did it!” you celebrated enthusiastically, feeling a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as rafayel grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“incredible!” rafayel exclaimed, his tone filled with mock astonishment. “i’ve officially been defeated by the claw machine champion.”

—

as the afternoon came to an end, while the sun painted the city in hues of gold, rafayel casually inquired, “so, where do you live?” your head tilted in puzzlement, not quite catching what he meant until he clarified, “i’m gonna walk you home.”

you felt your heart flutter, your cheeks warming at the unexpected offer. “oh, um, it’s not far from here...” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. rafayel’s grin widened, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to lead the way. “lead the way then, my dear companion,” he teased, falling into step beside you as you started walking.

as you walked through the familiar streets, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. yet, it was rafayel who broke it, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “sooo, did you enjoy our little date today?” he asked, his tone light yet filled with genuine curiosity.

a small chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you. “of course i did. thank you for spending the day with me, rafayel...” you replied, stealing a glance at him.

it seems as if the fact he called it a date completely went over your head – and could anyone blame you if you were just happy enough to spend the day with him that you no longer cared whether it was a friendly date or something else?

rafayel’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “anytime.” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “we should definitely do this again sometime.”

you felt a flutter in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat as you nodded in agreement. “yeah... i’d like that.” you agreed softly, a shy smile creeping up your lips. the walk continued, each step bringing you closer to your destination.

—

you two stood in front of your apartment building, and as you bid farewell to each other, you waved at him with a close-eyed smile.

rafayel swore his heart had never raced faster than it did now.

just as you were about to walk away, he held you back by your wrist, halting your movements. “wait.” you took a step back. “rafayel...?” you tilted your head in confusion as you turned to face him. his hand was still holding onto your wrist, and as he stood there, holding your wrist gently, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “i was going to wait until the art exhibit event was over to say this to you, but... screw that. i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“what do you mean...?” you asked, not quite getting what he was implying.

“well,” he began, his voice no longer laced with his trademark sarcasm. “i’ve got a confession to make.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze never leaving you. “from the moment i first saw you sleeping at the very back of the classroom while everyone was busy talking in separate groups, something inside me shifted. it was as if the universe intended to bring us together, to intertwine our lives in a way that i couldn't comprehend at the time.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, curiosity mingling with anticipation as you waited for him to continue. “you see,“ rafayel went on, his tone softening ever so slightly. “i never knew why i felt so drawn to you that day even though i didn’t even know anything about you- there was just something about you that made stare at you a little longer than i was supposed to.” he paused, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recalled the countless times he had looked behind to see whether you were gazing out the window, writing down notes, or sleeping.

“you know, i’ve spent all this time trying to figure out why you just seemed to be so different from everyone else in my eyes. and maybe you’re wondering why- but that’s the thing. neither do i know.” you listened, captivated by the sincerity in his words, the layers of his personality laying bare before you.

“and then it hit me.”

rafayel continued, a warmth spreading through his chest as he spoke. “i’ve watched you, admired you, in ways that i can’t quite put into words- way before i even saw your sketchbook lying down on the ground.” rafayel confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “getting to know you even further with each passing day from then on was the nail in the coffin, you know? as i got to know you better through time, i just- the next thing i knew was i wanted to have more excuses to spend time with you.” he ran his hands through his hair, a soft expression on his face as you listened with surprise.

“your kindness, your warmth, your quiet strength, the way you’re always trying to view every circumstance you come across in a positive light, the way you’re... you. they’ve captivated me in ways i never thought possible.” you listened, your heart racing with his words, the air heavy with the weight of the unspoken. he took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you.

“i don’t even know when, how, and why i started feeling this way. all i knew the moment i first heard you chuckle quietly at the back of the class that one time thomas and i were arguing over which of our answers to the equation mr. nero wrote on the board- neither were correct, by the way- was that if it ever became louder, i wanted to be the reason behind it.”

“you’re making it so hard for me not to fall for you, and as i stand in front of you now, i’m proudly declaring that i’ll be admitting my defeat.”

as rafayel’s words hung in the air, you stood there in disbelief, finding it hard to make his words sink in. and then it all came crashing down on you. the overwhelming surge of happiness you felt when you were adding your own touches on his artwork that one day at the art room wasn’t just a feeling of being glad you were finally able to express your talent in a way that isn’t scribbling on your sketchbook – it was because the feeling of being comfortable with letting your guard down around someone who wasn’t tara was an unfamiliar yet great experience for you.

the reason why you always found yourself staring at him in class wasn’t because you were curious as to how popular people like him lived their lives; you weren’t curious about his lifestyle, but rather... you were curious about him as a person.

“rafayel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. “i... i never knew... i never dared to hope...” but before you could finish, rafayel reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “you don’t have to. just... let yourself loose, yeah?” rafayel’s gaze softens, his hand still gently holding yours as he waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts.

“it’s just... it’s a lot to take in.” you finally manage, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you admit your struggle to process his heartfelt confession. “but...” you pause, biting your lip nervously as you try to find the courage to voice the thoughts racing through your mind.

“but what?” rafayel prompts gently, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “it’s just... everything makes sense now,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush as you finally allow yourself to let out the thoughts you had buried deep inside.

“that day in the art room, when we were working on that huge canvas, i thought i was just happy to be able to express myself through art... but now i realize it was more than that. it was the feeling of being comfortable with someone other than tara, of letting my guard down and just... being myself without having to afraid of being judged.”

rafayel listened intently, his expression softening with each word you speak. “and in class, when i would find myself staring at you... i always thought it was just curiosity about how someone like you lived their life. but now i see it was something more. i was curious about you as a person, and whatever you were hiding beneath your usual personality, i just... i wanted to know all about it.”

“i don’t know when, how, or why it all started either, but... all i know right now is that... i want to be with you, rafayel.”

a blush crept across your cheeks as you finished speaking, your gaze dropping to the ground as you awaited rafayel’s response. but before you can look up, you feel his hand gently lifting your chin, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. “you know...” he said softly, his voice filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i’m glad you feel that way. because... well, because I've been feeling the same way about you for a long time now- if that wasn’t obvious already.”

as the weight of your shared confessions hangs in the air, there’s a palpable tension between you and rafayel. slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours as his lips hover just inches from yours.

your heart races in your chest, a nervous feeling fluttering spreading through your stomach as you anticipate what’s about to happen. and then, in a moment that feels both infinitely long and short at the same time, his lips finally meet yours.

it’s soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips against yours, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. but then, as the realization sinks in that this is your very first kiss, the sensation intensifies. his lips mold perfectly against yours, fitting together like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match. there’s a warmth that spreads from the point of contact, igniting a fire deep within you that you never knew existed.

as the kiss deepens, you find yourself melting into him, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you and the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through your veins.

and then, as the kiss came to an end, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally pull away, your lips tingling with the memory of his touch.

“rafayel, i...” you mumble, cheeks ablaze with a crimson hue that refused to fade. he chuckled warmly, his hand ruffling your hair affectionately. “you’re too cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

your response came out as a nervous stutter, your words stumbling over each other as you try to process the rush of emotions flooding through you. he gently pinches your cheeks, eliciting a short laugh from you. “hey now, none of that,” he playfully scolds, a playful sparkle swirling in his eyes. “unless you want me to die or something.”

you blush even deeper at his teasing, unable to find a clever retort. instead, you offer a sheepish smile, your heart fluttering at his words. as you bid farewell once more, the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you turn to head inside the apartment building. but before you do, you steal one last glance back at rafayel, waving at him with a shy smile.

he returns the gesture, a soft smile gracing his features as he watches you disappear inside, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a head full of thoughts of him.

—

you lay on your bed, cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the kiss and your heart pounding with excitement. unable to contain your bubbling emotions, you bury your face in your pillow and let out a muffled squeal, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

just as you start to calm yourself down, your phone’s notification jingle breaks the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. with trembling hands, you grab your phone and glance at the lockscreen, where a message from Rafayel awaits.

“looking forward to seeing ur art exhibit project ;)”

your cheeks flushed even deeper at his message, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you quickly unlock your phone and type a reply, fingers flying over the screen as you try to contain your excitement.

“i guess you weren't lying when you said i’d head home with a newfound inspiration... ～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆”

on the other side of the screen, rafayel chuckled softly at your message, finding the kaomoji you sent along with it absolutely adorable. with a smile, he typed out his reply, reminiscing about the intimate moment you shared earlier before parting ways.

“see? that’s why it’s always the best choice to trust me in every possible situation.”

he replied, his message feigning smugness. you couldn’t help but giggle at his response, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at his playful demeanor.

“as much as i want to talk to you for longer, i still have to get my art exhibit project finished (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)”

rafayel’s lips curled into a small smile as he read your message.

“why not go to sleep now? we can always talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

and despite the simplicity of his suggestion, you couldn’t resist the urge to internally scream with excitement.

—

while they strolled through the venue, thomas couldn’t resist teasing rafayel about his frequent glances towards the entrance. with an amused smirk, he nudged rafayel, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

“looking for someone, raf?” rafayel’s response was casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of anticipation. “just curious if she’s made it here yet.” thomas followed rafayel’s line of sight, scanning the bustling crowd. “haven’t seen her around yet,” he responded. rafayel continued to scan the room, his gaze lingering on each passing figure in search of a familiar face.

meanwhile, as you hurried into the venue, tara spotted you and dashed over, enveloping you in a tight hug. “hey, where have you been? you’re late!” you chuckled sheepishly, “i may or may not have overslept...” tara only pinched your cheek, seemingly unsurprised by your response.

“also- there’s that one painting over there that everyone’s been admiring for a while now, and the art style seemed very familiar to me... that one’s yours, right? please say it is!” tara’s eyes sparkled with excitement. with a shy smile, you nodded. “yeah, i finally decided to share my work...” tara squealed in delight, squeezing you even tighter as she practically squealed in your ear how proud she was of you.

as she guided you through the crowd to your painting, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. but when your eyes met rafayel’s across the room, a wave of warmth washed over you, calming your nerves. tara caught your eye contact with rafayel, turning to you with a puzzled expression. “do you two know each other?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

you nodded shyly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. tara’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise in an instant. “wait, don’t tell me... he’s the anonymous person behind that note you found in your bag, isn’t he?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization.

with a knowing smile, you simply nodded, causing tara to gasp in disbelief. “oh my gosh! no way! are you sure you’re not living in a shoujo manga?” she teased, her excitement evident in her voice. but underneath her teasing, you could sense her genuine happiness for you.

meanwhile, thomas noticed rafayel’s gaze fixed on you and couldn’t resist nudging him with a smirk. “there’s your girl, go get her.” he teased, earning an eye-roll from rafayel.

as they both approached you and tara, the lingering memory of yesterday’s kiss remained fresh in your minds – and it was painfully obvious with the way you two were stumbling over your own words. thomas couldn’t contain his laughter. “look at rafayel all flustered...” he chuckled, thoroughly amused by his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior.

tara, on the other hand, was practically squealing with delight at the romantic encounter unfolding before her eyes. “they’re so cute together...!” she whispered to herself, barely able to contain her excitement.

sensing the need for some privacy, thomas grabbed rafayel’s attention, patting his shoulder. “i’ll go ahead and check the other artworks.” tara quickly followed suit, declaring her sudden need to visit the bathroom, leaving you and rafayel alone in front of your painting.

as the curious gazes of the surrounding students lingered on the two of you, rafayel turned to you with genuine interest. “so, are those lovers in each petal supposed to represent us?” he asked, his tone filled with curiosity as he pointed to a petal that had a painting of two people eating ice cream.

you nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his question. “yeah... i painted each scene with us in mind.” you admitted, feeling a bit shy but also strangely exhilarated by his interest. rafayel’s eyes shone with appreciation as he examined the beautiful details of your artwork. “wow, you’re really...” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he seemed to be out of words. “you have such an amazing talent, you know that?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his heartfelt comment, feeling a surge of confidence in your abilities. “you think so...?”

“know so.”

“i swear, one day my lighthearted jokes about you being the next president of the art club will come true to life. i wouldn’t even be surprised, you know?” he teased, flashing you a charming grin that made your heart skip a beat.

as you and rafayel left your painting behind to explore the other artworks, the eyes of the gathered students followed your every move. some watched in surprise, their eyebrows raised in curiosity as you were engaged in a conversation with rafayel. others couldn’t contain their excitement, their voices tinted with squeals of delight as they observed the unlikely dynamic between the two of you.

“oh my gosh, look at them! they’re so adorable together...” one girl whispered to her friend, nudging her with an elbow as she pointed discreetly at the two of you. “i know, right? who would’ve thought they’d make such a cute couple?” her friend replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“did you see the way he looked at her? it’s like she’s the only one in the room!” one of them remarked, her heart fluttering at the sight. “and she’s glowing! i’ve never seen someone look so beautiful before.” another girl added, a sense of joy evident in her tone as she observed your interaction with rafayel.

nearby, a group of boys exchanged knowing glances, their expressions filled with admiration for rafayel’s ability to break through your shell. “man, rafayel’s really got it going on with her.” one of them remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice as he watched you two interact.

“yeah, but look at her, she’s holding her own too. rafayel’s really lucky, isn’t he?” another boy added, nodding approvingly as he watched you converse with rafayel. "have you ever seen anyone as radiant as her?” one of them whispered, captivated by your presence.

“she’s like a living artwork herself.” another remarked, admiring the way you seemed to bring color and life to the atmosphere surrounding both you and rafayel.

“i heard she’s the one behind that stunning painting. makes sense, she’s got such a creative aura about her, doesn’t she?” a third boy commented, impressed by your artistic talents and the way you expressed yourself through your work.

as the crowd’s whispers of admiration reached your ears, rafayel couldn’t help but grin, turning to you with a proud gleam in his eyes. “you hear that?” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “told you the world deserves to witness how talented you are.”

you felt a warm flush of gratitude spread through you at his words, grateful for his unwavering support. with a shy smile, you nodded, feeling a newfound sense of confidence blooming within you. “thank you, rafayel- for everything, really.” you whispered, feeling a surge of appreciation for the boy who had helped you break out of your shell and embrace your true potential.

and you’ll forever be grateful for having him in your life.

♡ , cupidswan.

[exactlycleverpirate]

(Over) Analyzing the Love and Deepspace Theme Song

“Some long for longevity

Before fading to dust

Some long for eternal sleep

And eulogy chanted by stars

Into that serenity

Their lost time forever buried

She rambled a thousand times

And million miles

Searching for her light

Free from the rule of death

Now seem so dull

Time goes by but memories rewind

Here she prays again

Back when things began

Where to go

Where they meet and grow old

Where no rivers would flow

No woods would grow

No life would never be ceased

Or somewhere they could start again

Where they would never be the same

Where rains everyday

Fain they would stay

Some forsake longevity

Then fading to dust

Some fall for eternal sleep

Their eulogies turn into gleaming stars

Will they meet in stars again

Or gone with the wind”

Spoilers under the cut.

Some long for longevity

Before fading to dust

I think this line could be a reference to the people of Philos, especially the ones on Earth. The Backtrackers are trying to find a way to prolong Philos and their lives with it. When Xavier cuts down the man in the alley, he dissolves into dust. The planet is dying and has no oceans. The whole planet is described as being dustier than Earth was. The imagery during the video for these lines is of the galaxy. 

The Wanderers also fade to dust when they are cut down. In fact, the first scene we see of Xavier in the game is him cutting down Wanderers and them dispersing into light.

Additionally, there are people on Earth who are trying to achieve immortality, particularly those who are using Lemurian blood to prolong their lives. Meanwhile, in Fragrant Dream, Rafayel dissolves into sea foam to save MC. (But this could be a bit of a stretch.)

Some long for eternal sleep

And eulogy chanted by stars

Eternal sleep is a common theme throughout this game. Zanye falls into eternal sleep in his myth. Rafayel will also fall into eternal sleep in his myth if something doesn't change. Meanwhile, Xavier is suspiciously tired all the time. 

Particularly telling is that these lines coincide with a silhouette of Xavier in the video, as well as a starry expanse. The implication seems to be that Xavier is longing for that eternal sleep. Which wouldn't be terribly surprising. He has been living and fighting and losing the person he loves over and over for a very long time.

A eulogy is something written or spoken to remember those who have died. In this case, the stars themselves are the ones speaking the memories. It makes me think of old mythology where great heroes and demi-gods would be immortalized in constellations when they died.

I think this segment is also connected to Wanderers, and Xavier's story is particularly tied to Wanderers. I think it is very possible that whatever humanity remains in the Wanderers wants to be at rest, finally. I think there is likely relief when Xavier (and Zayne in his 3rd Anecdote), set them free to finally rest in peace.

Into that serenity

Their lost time forever buried

Here, the video shows us a silhouette of Zayne, and behind him is Mt. Eternal. At the end of his myth, Zayne has slipped into the serenity of eternal sleep, buried under a snowy blizzard. Additionally, at the end of the Main Story chapter 8, we see Zayne interacting with something buried under ice.

Even before this, in Zayne's Myth, they lose time again and again as their memories are erased, and they are reset. Additionally, there is some time weirdness going on between Doctor Zayne and Dawnbreaker Zayne. 

She rambled a thousand times

And million miles

Searching for her light

The video shows planet Earth rotating and a sun rising over the horizon. This is clearly about MC, traveling worlds and times, resurrecting again and again, searching for her love(s), her freedom, her memories. Particularly poignant is Queen MC at the end of Xavier’s Myth, thinking about how her star is gone.

Free from the rule of death

Now seem so dull

Time goes by but memories rewind

This section is paired with Rafayel's silhouette in the video. It is hard to make out the background, but I think it is an underwater city, presumably Lemuria. Lemurians are naturally eternal/immortal. As far as we have seen so far, they are the only people in the game who come by this naturally (unless this is a result of that ancient Lemurian technology, but either way, immortality is literally in their blood).

Rafayel may die, but the implication through his content seems to be that when he does die, he will merge into the waters of the ocean and one day be reincarnated. He is free from the rule of death, but over and over in his stories and behavior, we see that he is bored. Life has become dull (particularly without MC). He talks of death as a blessing for Lemurians in Whalefall Lament.

Something that is an important reoccurring theme throughout Rafayel's content is memories. MC has forgotten him, which he is very frustrated about. In Fragrant Dream, she has forgotten him as well, and restoring her memories and humanity costs Rafayel his life. In his myth, Rafayel tries to erase her memories to protect her, but she remembers anyway, and tells him she is not someone who easily forgets (which seems a little ironic, given how much she has forgotten across times and tales). 

Rafayel also seems to have the potential to have the oldest memories with her. Where Xavier’s memories are primarily in the future, I think it likely that many of Rafayel's are in the past (though not the myth). If I were to have each man represent an aspect of time, I would say Xavier is future, Zayne is present, and Rafayel is past. And I think we see that connection here with memories rewinding.

I will add that MC has lost memories of all 3 men throughout her various stories, though I would argue that current day MC has primarily lost memories of Rafayel, as she only met Zayne after the Chronorift Catastrophe, and most of her story with Xavier is set in the future, but present day MC has only just met him (aside from a brief encounter during the Chronorift Catastrophe).

Here she prays again

Back when things began

The video at this part once more shows a galaxy/starry expanse. 

I'm inclined to say this is also connected to Rafayel's story, though I'm not sure. There are two different gods we see mentioned in Love and Deepspace, the God of the Sea (Rafayel) and Astra. Though this could refer to praying at the shrines and things of that nature just in general, praying for luck, well being, help, etc. 

But I do think it is interesting that in Rafayel’s myth, there is a suggestion that she is/was a follower/devotee/worshiper of the Sea God. Adding to that my thoughts that Rafayel has the oldest connection, and the “back when things began” is a good fit too. However, Xavier’s Anecdote 3 can also be seen as a beginning, particularly of the time-loop they seem to be trapped in now.

Where to go

On this line, the video flashes through the locations of each of the myths. First the city in the Golden Sands of Rafayel's myth, then the castle in Philos where Xavier is, and finally the Tower of Thorns where Zayne is trapped.

Where they meet and grow old

Where no rivers would flow

Here, we again see Rafayel in the video. Of my experience going through the content, Rafayel is the most blatant and consistent about wanting to spend his life with MC, and even refers to her as his bride in the myth. Thus we have connected with him the longing to grow old with MC. To have her beside him throughout his life. Indeed, I think he gave her his heart because he knew otherwise they would one day be separated by her truly dying, and he wanted to make her immortal like himself, so she could live on with him, over the course of their lives.

Rivers flowing is a plain reference to the city in the Golden Sands that is the source for 64 rivers, yet the land has no ocean. All water, at least in that area, flows from the city, which happens to be where MC is essentially imprisoned in order to protect the immortality of the people of Philos. The people of Philos, at least in the Golden Sands, hoard the water, MC, and immortality, all of which they have essentially stolen from Rafayel.

No woods would grow

No life would never be ceased

Here we go to Zayne. Honestly, I would have expected “no woods would grow” to be connected to Xavier and Starfall Forest. And while that may be a part of it, the video seems to make a direct link to the thorns in the Tower of Thorns instead.

“No life would never be ceased” is particularly interesting for Zayne. It works well as a connecting theme between Doctor Zayne, Dawnbreaker Zayne, and Myth Zayne. 

Doctor Zayne is haunted by every patient he loses, keeping a tally of them to remember. He is particularly haunted by the death of William on Mt. Eternal. And he is frantically researching to find a way to prevent MC’s life from ceasing as well. Additionally, Zayne has an underlying anxiety of protecting MC from himself, and he seems to be a ticking time bomb with whatever is going on with his Evol.

Dawnbreaker Zayne ends life after life rather than allowing these people to devolve into monsters. However, he longs for Doctor Zayne's life, where he could save others instead of simply putting them out of their misery.

Meanwhile, Myth Zayne has watched MC die again and again and again, failing to save her each time, until he finally breaks the loop, sacrificing his life for hers.

Or somewhere they could start again

Where they would never be the same

Here we come to Xavier. He and MC fell in love when they were young (comparatively), but it quickly ended in tragedy. When he is reunited with her in his myth, it looks at first like they might have a chance of being together this time. But then he learns the truth behind Philos, Wanderers, and MC’s connection to it all, and all his focus and energy goes into saving her, rather than their relationship. Indeed, even in Anecdote 3, Xavier sacrifices his precious remaining time with her in a desperate bid to find a way to save her life. 

This appears to be true in the Main Story as well. Rather than prioritizing a relationship with you, he is trying to find a way to save you, both current you and the Queen he left behind on Philos. If only there were a way to break from this cycle. To start from the beginning, without the fighting, heartache, and loss, and just be together. Where he didn't have to say goodbye to her in a desperate bid to keep her alive.

Where rains everyday

Fain they would stay

This takes us back to Rafayel. Rafayel loves the rain, forgoing umbrellas to enjoy being soaked. And deserts, such as the Golden Sands, desperately need rain. So where is a place where the rains would be glad to stay? Where water is abundant, life giving, and free, rather than hoarded, trapped, and closely guarded? Somewhere the Lemurians can live freely without being hunted or enslaved? Where MC is not trapped in a fancy cage to be used as a battery for a whole planet?

“Fain they would stay” also goes back to Zayne in the video. Where is somewhere that he and MC can stay together, where he doesn't feel the need to pull away to keep her safe? Where they aren't pulled apart by divine or cosmic forces?

Following this is an instrumental section where we see the Deepspace Tunnel, then Mt. Eternal (Zayne), the coast of Hat Island (Rafayel), and Tracback II (Xavier).

Some forsake longevity

Then fading to dust

Some fall for eternal sleep

Their eulogies turn into gleaming stars

During this segment, there is a galaxy in the background that slowly grows into the distinct shape of an eye. (Such as the eye MC sees outside her window, the eyes of the drones around the city, the red eyes of the raven in the forest, the eye of Astra given to Zayne so he could see through time.)

And now we come full circle. We started with those wanting longevity rather than becoming dust, but here we come to those willing to give up their longevity to fade to dust. Similarly, we started with those longing for eternal sleep and eulogies in the stars, and here we have those who fall into that eternal sleep, and their eulogies are in fact etched into the stars.

I think all of this is an indication of how all three of these men, Rafayel, Zayne, and Xavier, are willing to give to their lives, their longevity, their immortality, for MC. And their heroic sacrifices are of the sort that are etched into the very stars, like those mythological heroes of ancient times.

Will they meet in stars again

Or gone with the wind

We see Xavier interacting with what appears to be a wrecked Traceback II or similar machinery. We see Zayne at Mt. Eternal under an aurora, either freezing or excavating something (a protocore?) buried in the ice there. And we see Rafayel working on his painting that seems to depict a mermaid tale in an underwater city, then he vanishes, leaving the painting covered in a bloody red.

These are the final scenes for these characters at the end of chapter 8.

Meeting in the stars seems particularly connected to Xavier, as he has a consistent star theme throughout his stories. Connecting to the earlier idea of constellations and mythological heroes, there are a number of versions of loved ones who could not meet/reunite on Earth, but were able to find each other as stars (i.e. Gemini, Vega and Altair, Andromeda and Perseus (less tragic), and some others too, I think.)

What I find particularly interesting is the reference to the wind. In the prologue of the Main Story, the voice on the radio tells us the winds are at 5 km/hr. In the epilogue of Chapter 8, the radio voice says the winds are at 7 k/m. In both the epilogue and the song, the mention of wind coincides with wind blowing through Rafayel's house as he works on his painting and then vanishes. Gone with the wind. Leaving a bloody sea behind.

Give me your thoughts, corrections, additions, what-have-you in the comments or PM me!

[mrghostrat]

Hello and good morning/day/night :]

I was wondering, in BNF, we’ve gotten tiny little bits of information about the ‘Nice and Accurate Prophecies’ (not sure if that’s the correct title, sorry) book and TV series, if there was anything else you could tell us about it?

Character names, storylines, plots, any fun details you may have made up or otherwise, etc, etc.

I just think it’s sweet how interested both Aziraphale and Crowley are in the series, and if you might be as interested, if not more, in it too.

Thank you, and have a lovely Sunday. 🫶

this is it, my leash has snapped, i'm wild in the streets, thank u for asking; i'm gonna go be insufferable now

(hi @neil-gaiman if you see this, i think it's safe to read, but it does border on being fan fic. i'm writing a fic where crowley and aziraphale are an artist + writer in an online fandom, much like we are for good omens, and this is the fake story i've made for them to be fans of 💛)

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

info dump of the fake 5 book series by Agnes Nutter (1985-1992) and its fake fandom:

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

The Strange and Improbable Prophecy

The Vague and Perfidious Prophecy

The Tense and Harrowing Prophecy

The Faint and Ineffable Prophecy

a dramatic, layered story with a bizarre and unexpectedly lovable cast of characters, humour that hits you out of nowhere, and a lot of attitude from the narrator. a la Good Omens, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

fantasy/historical fantasy and mildly action & romance

a la good omens, a witch and a witchfinder become friends and help each other throughout history, despite being on opposite sides. they get closer as they fight against the immoral plays from their prospective sides (the witchfinder army and a demonic cult the witch was born into) that each lose sight of their core values in a bid to hold more power over the world.

the story is set primarily in a medieval fantasy era, but suddenly jumps to the present in the later books, catching everyone off guard and giving a whole new context to enjoy the story. the challenges they face parallel the earlier story but in a modern take with modern technological twists. the modern era is the late 80s, since that's when it was written.

the witch reincarnates, similar to doctor who, due to a high class black magic ritual they performed in their arrogant youth (which they were NOT supposed to have access to). they've had long lifetimes where they die of old age, and others where they've barely managed to live a year. their reincarnations aren't entirely random; they will reincarnate according to their growth and preferences as a person (a la Magical Boy's magical outfit generations), which includes fluctuation in gender identity. their pronouns fluctuate depending on each "face" they wear, but have canonically been a "they" before. the good side of the fandom (crowley & aziraphale) default to they/them as an overall rule. they do have a name, but they like to change that too, so the fandom almost exclusively calls them witch, or witchy.

the witchfinder also has a name, but the fandom have taken to calling him witchfinder to match the fact that witchy is called by their role. it also helps that a lot of the witchfinder narration refers to him by role instead of name. he is human, 30ish in appearance, but at the end of the first book, the witch fears to lose him and curses him with immortality against his knowledge to try and keep him safe.

witch is crowley-coded, witchfinder is aziraphale-coded. my to-do list includes an illustration of the two of them played by michael and david :') but i picture them being kind of like newt and anathema for the most part.

ship names include witch/finder, witchwitch, w² or witch², and witchfound.

at the start of the first book, they meet and become friends without knowing each other is a witch & finder. the witchfinder is a bit bumbly, like newt, and the witch is cool and suave but neurotic and insecure like many human au variations of crowley (major overcompensation vibes). witch is male at the start of the first book. their friendship is secure when witch finds out he's a witchfinder, so there's less "oh my god i'm friends with the enemy, is he going to kill me in my sleep?" and more "ah fuck, Lets Drink About This"

there's battles, horseback riding, camping out in dark woods, disappearing and losing each other for months at a time, and many missed connections as they try to work together against two common enemies, whilst keeping up the facade that they're on their respective team's sides.

there's charged chemistry in the first book, but it's more plot heavy. there's hints of shippy moments in the 2nd book that fall in between the plot. there's a Moment of almost confession in the 3rd book, and a non romantic kiss towards the end (we gotta, for neil). they're pretty much married in the 4th book, securely at each other's side, but never actually talk about it until the end, and there's a more explicitly stated shippy connection in the 5th book.

agnes herself is a total recluse who drops books out of nowhere then goes back to existing somewhere in the english countryside (people presume). she's happy to supply signed copies to fundraisers and conventions, and sometimes random bookshops across the country will be vandalised with genuine autographs on the inside covers. she's notoriously pedantic about being involved with adaptions behind the scenes, but she has no social media and isn't ~around~. she once did a talk when she was presented with an honorary doctorate, and did a single book signing when the first Prophecy book came out, but beyond that she keeps to herself.

there are a small handful of quotes from her in behind-the-scenes footage talking vaguely about character intensions and clarifying world building, but she likes to leave things up to interpretation like neil does. it's in these few snippets of interaction we've seen from her that she's steadfastly supportive of intersectionality and lgbt rights, like staring dead-eyed at an interviewer when they ask her a ridiculously heteronormative question about the characters (like "have you read my books?")

adaptions include:

(most adaptions start like the book, with a male witch at the beginning that turns into a female witch when they first regenerate. the early ones usually change the pacing by switching to a female actor by the time they realise witchfinder is a witchfinder, unlike in the book where he's male for this scene, and there's way less Charged™ chemistry between the m/m witch/finder.)

Feature Film: late 90s, kind of cheesy, but good spirited fantasy (a la Indiana Jones). focuses on the first book alone, with hints to a sequel that never happened.

Abandoned TV Pilot: early 2000s, a little too dramatic but still a good time (a la the Dungeons and Dragons 2000, ASOUE 2004). good source of gifs and Moments™ but the fandom is generally Fine with it being abandoned.

Stage Performance: late 2000s-early 2010s, a stellar stage adaption of the first book with elements of the 90s movie. f/m witch/finder the whole way through. one cast used m/m actors but it was a short run and only a handful of fans were lucky enough to catch or remember it. crowley would give his left arm (or someone's, anyway) to have experienced it, so a fan sent him some flip phone camera footage of it that he keeps on a harddrive in his safe.

HBO Streaming Series: late 2010s-present, high quality, highly revered, resurged the fandom's popularity and spread the series further overseas. made in america, but doesn't try to americanise the series. extremely respectful to the books, with easter eggs to the film, and is working its way through the entire book series (a la The Witcher netflix series). f/m witch/finder, but has had one episode that included some flash backs/montages of different witch faces. probably like 15 minutes total screentime of a male witch played by a ncuti gatwa level/style of actor, which the fandom has giffed, edited, and screencapped to oblivion.

Several bonus books: Agnes has written a few extra books (a la The Unauthorized Autobiography of Lemony Snicket and The Beatrice Letters), as well as curated some anthologies from other authors (a la A Study In Sherlock). there are a total of 3 anthologies so far, in which other authors have written stories about the characters in their own tellings. basically like canonised, published fan fiction, curated and authorised by agnes herself. There's also an unfinished graphic novel that retells the book series (a la The Adventure Zone comic), but has been WIP/unheard of since the 3rd book.

[hanilessa]

» :、♡  WHEN THEY REALIZE THEY LOVE YOU

` Includes: Childe, Zhongli, Aether, Gorou, Albedo x fem!reader (separate)

` Genre: fluff, romance

` Author’s notes: i just added here all my favorite genshin men lmao. i love them very much <3 i hope you like it, cuties!!! ♡

part two! also my inbox is open for your requests! feel free to text me if you want to request headcanons or drabble. :3

The moment Childe walked into your kitchen and saw you cooking dinner, standing by the stove in your kitchen apron and humming a funny soothing tune, he knew you were the only person he ever saw his future with. His most cherished desire was to see you surrounded by your little children who would have the same beautiful eye color that you had. You're his reason for life. And if you agreed to spend your whole life with him, he would make you the happiest woman in the world, because nothing was more important than family for him and never will be.

Zhongli realized that his stony heart trembled because of you as you listened with undisguised curiosity to the stories of the old narrator. Both of you were sitting at the small table where you and Morax used to meet for dinner. The way you enthusiastically asked the narrator questions and with what interest you built your conjectures and theories about old narrator's stories, made Zhongli's soul, wounded by centuries, tremble like beautiful flowers in the wind. He can give you everything. And if you let him tell you how this world was created, he would become your personal narrator.

There are an infinite quantity of stars in the sky, but they will never be equal to you. What a beautiful light his golden eyes gleamed when Aether looked at you, as you both raced through countless galaxies, running around many worlds in search of his sister. You, so beautiful in the glow of stars and exploding comets, smiled at him, promising that you would always be by his side, preventing him from falling into the abyss of bottomless despair. In the light of the birth of new universes and worlds, he realized that you will always be his favorite star.

Your gentle hands go over Gorou's soft ears as he enjoys your touch and realizes that he would like time to stop forever in this beautiful moment. When you so tenderly whisper words of love to him, stroking his ears and tail, and with sincere happiness you watch how he enjoys your gentle touches. He squints with delight when you scratch his ear and giggle at his cute reaction. He would be happy if your children would have the same ears as his.

Albedo realizes his boundless love for you when he sees your eyes shining in the light of the morning sun on Dragonspine. Your cheeks are red, you're wrapped in a warm jacket, but, nevertheless, you're here now. Just for him. You came to bring him some food. And even though he didn't need it, his fake heart was beating excitedly from the realization of the fact that this was the most important thing for you. It was important to you that he was healthy. And, at that moment, when the sun illuminated your figure with its rays, you smiled at him, and he realized that his heart forever belongs only to you alone.

[rayshippouuchiha]

I had a gremlin thought and had to throw it at you. So we all know that JC and WWX revolved around JYL (as they should) and would 100% do what she told them to. Why had no one taken this to its logical conclusion? Let’s say it’s after another failed meeting in between JYL and her horrible fiancé she is doing the depressingly normal routine of trying to not be hurt while YZY is being horrible to WWX and JC. And she just takes a moment to breathe and wonder why them. What has she and her siblings done to suffer like this? One of the disciples comes over and offers her any help they can. This causes JYL to just have a moment of realization where she stops and tries to remember the last time anyone except those outside the sect asked the Sect leaders for anything. Because the people know that JFM is just passive at best and YZY is plain aggressive. JYL was raised to be a sect wife and basically shadow run a sect right? And let’s say she’s been doing this for years at this point. WWX basically owns the disciples and every resident of Lotus Pier. JC is Sect Heir and has every ounce of loyalty his people and siblings can give him. JYL has this vision of a sect run by the three siblings and it’s just so much better. I imagine for all that they were their mother and father JFM and YZY were very estranged from their children. It’s also basically canon that WWX hid so much of his power and skill from everyone as to not rock the boat. JYL rolls into her brothers rooms, sees the hurt that has been allowed to fester for to long and just decides it’s her turn to go feral. So now I present the idea of a coup. JYL points at the Sect and says I want it and her brothers go whole or in pieces? Now I don’t think any of the siblings is cold enough to kill JFM or YZY so I’m more leaning more towards talisman master over there creating a Jiāng version of Lan forced seclusion. Think about this would put canon in a blender and just shred it. We have Sect leader JYL, her co leader/Heir JC and their brother/Head disciple WWX. Think about WWX allowed to make the Jiāng a talisman powerhouse. Think about how a strengthened, united three person leadership which is really just JYL telling her brothers what to do and them doing it cheerfully. Everyone is validated, there isn’t constant fighting and money is rolling in from the talisman sales. The Jiāng all of a sudden are rising like someone strapped a rocket onto their ass. Let’s be honest the Lan are traditionalists who will swiftly be left in the dust by galaxy-for-a-brainWWX! Who invents like some people breathe. The Jin hold power by riches and let’s point again at our resident genius talisman master who rolls out the flags and compass. The Jiāng are getting richer by the second. The Nie are powerhouses and we have JC and WWX who are ridiculous and almost evenly matched. Lotus disciples are melee masters and going against one now makes a lot of people want to cry because Head Disciple WWX is going to drag his shidis into excellence one way or the other. JC is laughing on the sidelines because how do you think he got so powerful huh and let’s be real our angry grape loves watching people suffer. All of a sudden the Wen conquest doesn’t look to realistic anymore. Then WWX meets WN and WQ and decides to impulse adopt them and their entire branch. Then the Jiāng are now also the medical center of the Sects? Watch out Wens you’ve just lost the top spot to three teenagers two of which are really just following their beloved sisters lead. All I’m saying is JYL ruling the Cultivation World with her brothers cheerfully giving her whatever she wants while she can finally pamper them as she pleases. You want the horrible peacock? Fine buts he’s marrying in. Hey little brother you’re drooling over WQ huh? There is much mocking from single WWX towards his siblings. For awhile WWX is the only unmarried Lotus Pier sibling and boy is he hunted. Everyone is tripping over themselves to lock down the most eligible bachelor who is handsome and rich. And then WWX meets his LZ and how the tables have turned brother dear? Let’s just say the Lans are going to lose that fight before it even begins. LWJ is going to perish at their first meeting. Somehow this ends up a trend where the Jiāng end up pretty much never marrying out. Wow this got away from me but I now offer you this vision!

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Gentle Love w/ Bf!Channie❣️

(listening to save you by rum.gold on repeat while reading this is highly recommended for ambience purposes). Masterlists

Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Friends to lovers

pairing: Bestfriend/Bf!Chan x Fem!Reader

a/n: This seasonal depression got ya gurl heavily craving some form of comfort so this one was a bit self indulgent. i’ve never wrote a headcanon before but i really enjoyed making this so i hope you enjoy it too! (please give me your feedback) reblogs are super appreciated. taglist is open so lmk if you would like to be taglisted!! Lastly Thank you sm for being here; sending lots of love and big hugs to everyone who needs it right now. 🫶🏼🫂

© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.

Bestfriend!Channie who settled with his unrequited love for you bc there was nobody else who could ever compare to you & nobody else he had eyes for.

Bestfriend!Channie who always had to love you from a distance bc he just didn’t have it in him to confess and potentially ruin something that was so special to him.

Bestfriend!Channie who had to sit back and watch you love shitty men who didn’t deserve you.

Bestfriend!Channie Who watched you cry over men who didn’t even deserve to be in your presence in the slightest. 

Bestfriend!Channie who helped you through each heartbreak bc there was never a time that he wasn’t there when you needed him. 

Bestfriend!Channie who knew in his heart that there was absolutely nobody that could ever love you better than he, bc he knew you better than anyone else in the world.

Bestfriend!Channie who finally worked up the courage to tell you how madly in love with you he was and always has been (with the help of your mother ofc; she saw the way he looked at you with the whole galaxy in his eyes and had always wanted you two to be together. Mama always knows best!) 

Bf!Channie who loves you with every bone in his body and every fiber of his being.

Bf!Channie who just wants to save you. Save you from all your past love traumas and mend your heart. 

Bf!Channie who helps you on your healing journey. 

Bf!Channie who shows you all the gentle, soft love in the world, bc its what you’ve always deserved.

Bf!Channie who makes it his business to give you the best of everything and stands on that. 

Bf!Channie who always puts you first. Before anything and anyone. 

Bf!Channie who does his best to learn and indulge you in ALL of your love languages. 

Bf!Channie who never fails to treat you like a princess, a queen, a goddess and more. 

Bf!Channie who will tie your shoes for you and slap your hand when you try to open doors on your own. “Don’t you ever reach for a doorknob in my presence, thank you very much!” as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in a playful disbelief. 

Bf!Channie who will take off a week of work if you’re sick just to nurse you back to health regardless of your protesting. 

Bf!Channie who is always showing you off, rolling out the red carpet no matter who’s around. 

Bf!Channie who refuses to let either of you go to sleep upset at each other. bc he just cherishes you and prioritizes the importance of communication in your relationship that much. (he’s honestly such a king) 

Bf!Channie who is always calm and gentle with you; attentive to your feelings even mid argument.

Bf!Channie who takes interest in/ learns about all your hobbies and things that you are passionate about bc seeing you happy, makes him even happier. 

Bf!Channie who is so fond of your family and siblings. he has great relationships with all your family members and will never miss a single family gathering regardless to his busy schedule and idol life. 

Bf!Channie who hates to see you hurting or in pain. With teary eyes he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you “Princess You know i’d take this pain for you in a heartbeat if i could!” whether it be a broken bone, killer period cramps or even something as simple as a paper cut or a headache. His chest is heavy knowing there isn’t much he can do to comfort you and stop you from feeling any physical pain or discomfort. (i’m literally on the verge of sobbing, not me making myself emotional half way through writing this some one please send help 😭) 

Bf!Channie who is such an amazing listener. whether you are ranting about a horrible day at work or having a transparent moment about the current state of your mental health. He listens super attentively, giving you his undivided attention. Never breaking eye contact, He’ll hold both your hands in his occasionally leaving gentle reassuring kisses to your knuckles as you sit on your bed cross legged in front of each other. (this is so so so boyfie channie coded nobody talk to me im sobbing 😭) 

Bf!Channie who loves to take you on romantic night walks through the city. it has been your thing for years even before you two started dating. 

Bf!Channie who always invites you to join him on his late nights at the studio bc he just wants you to be near him. Even tho you are quite literally just there to sit in a reclining chair eating snacks while you rest your legs in this lap. You both are so content and cozy. He claims to work better with you around him and you absolutely adore watching your sexy producer man boyfie in his element. even if you are only staring at the side of his face for hours on end you will never turn down his offers.  

Bf!Channie who takes the sidewalk rule super seriously. there will never be a time where he will let you walk on the outside of him, always keeping you safe from any passing cars with his right arm around your shoulder, your waist or holding your hand while you walk together. 

Bf!Channie who is super protective and can be slightly possessive over the love of his life. always wanting to know your whereabouts and who you’re with; Sometimes even hiring a bodyguard for you when you are solo traveling for work or going to big modeling events when he isn’t able to attend with you. especially since you’re now well known in the public eye for being the significant other of one of 4th gens greatest! you now need to be protected and taken care of at all times (at least in his mind you do!) But You don’t blame him or ever complain bc you’ve been in pretty dangerous and traumatic situations before and thank god channie has always been there protecting you. He really has always been your knight in shining armor (shining armor being a black beanie and hoodie in his case 😂) 

Bf!Channie who loves your natural body just the way it is. Always reassuring you that he loves all your curves and the things that make you, you. Regardless to your insecurities he always has his hands on you some type of way whether he’s playing with your hair, resting his hands on you, absentmindedly massaging your legs while you two watch a movie together or coping a full feel as he walks past you in the kitchen; squeezing a whole hand full of booty cheek 😂 his hands are always on you. It’s so obvious how attracted and madly in love with you he is. 

Bf!Channie who loves your goofiness and all the silly ways you show your affection towards him. He loves it when you’re completely yourself. absolutely adoring whenever you’re in a playful mood and you just walk up to him to give him a quick bite on the shoulder and walk away with a smile on your face. he loves it even more when you’re really hyper and you do something unhinged like asking to give him a forehead kiss but instead licking his face and running away from him in a fit of giggles before he can catch you. (which he easily does a few seconds later) 

Bf!Channie who loves your pretty brown eyes. easily zoning out sometimes getting lost in your deep eyes mid conversation which always ends up with his ears and cheeks turning a bright red color at you snapping your fingers in front of his face and the sound of your voice bringing him back from a daydream.. “Hello!?? earth to loverboy!? are you with me?? ”

Bf!Channie who loves how soft you are with him. Always touching his hands or softly grabbing one of his pinky fingers when you want to get his attention to show or tell him something. He melts into a puddle seeing how soft your eyes are for him and how your voice is always just barely above a whisper when you speak to him in the warm comfort of your home. you walking up to him while he’s relaxing or doing random things around the house, pushing a few strands of his hair out of his face or softly grabbing his chin and turning his face towards you to simply ask him if he’d like you to make him a quick snack or bring him a cold drink. it unleashes a swarm of butterflies in his tummy and makes his knees buckle every time without fail. (he never understands how something so soft and gentle drives him so crazy, he’s clearly weak in the knees for a soft dom!mommy 🥴) 

Bf!Channie who is so enchanted by your comfortable silence. You two have created such a cozy and calming atmosphere in your home. Always finding each other at random areas of the house at any random hour of the day and enjoying each other’s presence without saying a word. Bringing comfort to one another simply by just.. being. You could be catching up on a new kdrama as chan would come and lay his head in your lap for a nap, intertwining your fingers and placing your hand on his chest. And without a word you’d grab the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and put it over him so that he could sleep comfortably. the feeling of his heartbeat underneath the palm of your hand instantly bringing you a unexplainable warm fuzzy feeling. this was just something that always seemed to happen naturally for you two. this part of your relationship was like a tacit agreement. The way you would climb into channies lap and rest your head in the crook of his neck after finishing up a few house chores as he just scrolled on his phone. it was something so soothing that you both thoroughly enjoyed but never spoke on bc you simply just didn’t need to. this atmosphere you created in your home was even felt by others around you. Family and friends always telling you guys how they felt utterly safe and comfortable every time they were at your house. And that was your favorite compliment to receive as a couple. You two were made for one another.. everything just seemed to work. Truly the best of soulmates. 

Taglist: ??? @hanniemylovelyquokka @goblinracha <;3

[maopll]

I have a request!! AHEM (fluff) rainy days w/ blade or jing yuan or dan heng or all three if you can 🥺✨ THANK U 🫶

— UNDER THE RAIN : #honkai star rail !

⌗:, a/n: first hsr request!! my favourite trio

⌗:, warning: none

⌗:,pairings: blade, jing yuan & dan heng w/ gn!reader

— BLADE

Relaxing and having fun are two verbs which do not exist in his dictionary. He may be stoic all the time but just like any ordinary being he also wishes, no, yearn to be with you. To melt in your arms, away from the worries and darkness of the world.

"Blade, look ! it's raining. " you two were currently on a mission. The streets at the moment were empty so for two wanted people it was safe, for now. He humed looking at the sky "we should get a nearby shelter. It is poring outside" and just as he was about to find one, you pulled his arms and led him into the rain. "oh come one we don't get opportunities like this. Streets empty, and a rainy day." He loved you from deep within but showing those affections in the right way were a task for him. However, you bright smile in this dark world were a beacon of light for him.

A smile escaped from his lips, a pure smile and lovesick eyes. He held you hands and said "since you asked for it, stay close to me darling". Romancing with you freely without any worries seemed like a far fetched dream but what he wouldn't do to relive these again.

— JING YUAN

It was a holiday and surprisingly the General was not running to and fro and was comfortably dozing off on your lap. The sky was overcast with dark clouds and thunder could be heard off in the distance. Rain wasn't really a common occurrence in the Luofu but you couldn't really ignore the skip of your heart. Dancing and playing in the rain were your favourite activities. Jing Yuan noticed your longing eyes "if you really want to go outside then you should do it. " to which you replied "oh well I can't waltz by myself now I'll need someone to accompany me" "I'd rather sleep" now you knew your greatest weapon against him was puppy eyes. He begrudgingly agreed to your whims.

The rain started, and he did not like getting soaked wet, and he truly wanted to go inside but your enthusiastic smile were priceless. He didn't really have the heart to tell you to go back just because he didn't like the rain. Afterall rain like these were indeed few and far in-between.

You twirled and followed the footsteps of your lover, the pure look of adoration on his eyes and the dreamy scene was enchanting. Oh, how much he would travel galaxies just to make memories with his love.

— DAN HENG

He barely shows few emotions but with you and his family he feels one and whole. The sky was grey indicating a downpour and the streets were soon starting to get emptied because of the incoming rain. You lover as usual was going through research papers and telegraph which go into detail about the opponents found in the present planet.

The weather soon started to get cold enough and what better way to get warm other than your own boyfriend hugging you close and cuddling you until you get warm and snuggled good. "um babe don't you think it's quite cold now?" "well it is indeed cold dear" "so I'm cold right?" "grab a blanket then". Sometimes he acts as if he doesn't understand what you are trying to hint at but today it was especially quite cold because of the rain. " *sigh* fine fine I'll join you" you did you happy dance of victory and got ready to cuddle him.

He pulled you close to his chest and patted your head. The patter of rain and the soft heartbeat of your lover lulled you to sleep.The warmth only further had you drift off into slumber. He kissed you on the forehead. "goodnight my star" and also let sleep take over his form.

[thelaurenshippen]

re: that *chef kiss* PERFECT Franken-Drummer post and tumblr not being all over The Expanse, I know right?? it’s such an amazing show with so many delightful, complicated characters yet it’s so unfairly slept on! maybe because S1 takes awhile to get going and ppl give up? idk but it makes me sad that I have so few ppl to squeal about Drummer and Amos and Bobbie and Christjen and Ashford and Naomi (ad infinitum) with 😭🚀😭

WHY ARE PEOPLE NOT OBSESSED WITH THE EXPANSE HELLO!?!?! there's literally so much to love about it oh my god. you're right, it DOES take a second to get going but once it does!!!

for those of you who have not read or seen The Expanse series (I myself have yet to read the books), let me tell you why you'll love it:

political space drama with incredibly distinct cultures and phenomenal world building, if you're a details girlie (gn), you're gonna go nuts

the found family vibes!!??! are off!?!? the charts!?!? (minor spoilers for the first few episodes) four people are thrown into a situation in which they accidentally become the most important people/fugitives in the whole galaxy and most of them DO NOT trust each other, what could possible go wrong, and even better, what could possibly go RIGHT

Christjen Avasarala. you are not ready for her. most powerful mover-shaker on earth with the most incredible outfits you've ever seen, refined elegance with the filthiest mouth, plus she's got a classic "whatever those two have going on is so gay it veers into something else entirely" with her younger protective knight lady, Bobbie

Bobbie. the "not to be a lesbian but oh my god" post is made for her. we meet her in the show for the first time when she arm wrestles a robot and WINS. you will be begging for her to step on you with her mech suit

speaking of women I want to step on me Camina Drummer. angry revolutionary pirate queen of my heart. do you miss the unique agony of 2000/10s queerbaiting but want it to be not baiting somehow? this show does that, idk how else to explain it. the most agonizing sapphic pining you've ever seen but it's textual and also not painful because its gay. don't worry, Camina fucks, just not the girl she wants most (also spoilers, but this is not a bury your gays show don't worry)

Jim Holden is literally just Some Guy who becomes the special fantasy chosen one because he simply cannot stop Getting Involved. nosiest bitch in the universe, I love him.

imagine you're a girl who leaves your shitty ex and gets a normal industrial job on a spaceship, only to have a six foot, two hundred pound killer dressed as a mechanic imprint on you like a baby duck, and its unclear whether he wants to fuck you or call you a little sister but he definitely WILL kill for you and will do literally anything you say and then you both end up caught up in a weird galactic war by mistake and there's this other guy with a captain america level moral compass and he's cute and you're into him except your shitty ex is still out there with the biggest secret you have and meanwhile your best female friend is the coolest person you've ever met but you don't think you can be what she needs and you're holding your family together, you're holding the universe together and all you want is justice for your people but unfortunately you've gone and fallen in love with the accidental most important man in the galaxy. well, every day Naomi Nagata wakes up

Praxideke Meng. botanist of my heart. literally tames the rabid guard dog that no one else could. gentle and able to stay gentle because of said dog. which brings me to...

Amos Burton. I saved him for last because he is my guy. he is THAT guy. canonically aromantic pansexual king. are you into guard dog characters? do you find yourself drawn to the "sorry my love language is acts of service and all I'm good at is killing people" characters? amos burton is like seventeen tumblr posts come to life. previously mentioned enormous killer dressed as a mechanic, former heels wearing "I didn't always work in space" sex worker who is always rolling into brothels and being like "you guys unionized?", gives a shit about basically no one in the universe except his crew and every single child in the galaxy, accidental comedian because he cannot stop saying weird shit, not a nice or good person but a loyal one, and one who is always trying to relearn the empathy that was carved out of him as a young person. every time he goes homicidal to protect one of his chosen people (crew + any and every child), an angel gets its wings.

fin.

[captainwans]

AM ERA PT. II (smau)

— ALEX TURNER

arabella series!

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: the fans can’t get enough of their relationship and share their thoughts and feelings on the arabella mv, including a “new” discovery on y/n’s side from the comments.

timeline: 2014

note: layout / format by the beautiful @ithinkimokeei <3

masterlist!

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officialelizabetholsen so real 😩

username the women in the comments ✨😌💅🏼

username alex doesn’t even have ig and if he had i know he be barking at how hot his gf is 😫

matthelders trust me he is barking

Liked by imsebastianstan, elsapataky and others

yourinstagram a little bts ✨ (📷: wife breana)

 ㅤ View all the comments

username my parents looks so hot

username i’m loving this new theme of hers!

username same!! i love how it matches the am

username the mv was so sexy idk if i wanted to look at alex or y/n

yourbestfriend nah i was looking at y/n the whole time who tf is alex?!! 🤨

username and you’re so iconic for that sis

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username oh to be arabella

username *to be y/n

username what i also loved about the mv was that they put some clips from the arabella movie

username y/n am era > alex am era

matthelders who said she was YOUR wife?

yourinstagram me, myself & i 😌

breanahelders what she said 🤩 matthelders go get the divorce papers

username LMAO

username IM CACKLING THIS IS SO FUNNY

username this is so gold i love this trio

matthelders i’m telling alex 😡

username um hello is no one gonna talk about them KISSING in the mv??!

username i was literally waiting for that comment!!!

username their kiss is living in my head rent free ✨✨✨🤩🤩🤩🤩

username i still haven’t recovered from that

username forever jealous

username he was kissing me y’all

username sorry boo but that was me

username if alex had ig i would’ve asked him if her lips tasted like the galaxy’s edge

username and if he kissed the color of a constellation falling into place

username and asking him if his days end best when this sunset gets itself

mileskane username he’s sitting beside me and he confirmed that her lips did taste like the galaxy’s edge 😳 🌌

username gripping my hair, sliding against the wall, sobbing, crying, throwing fits—ALEX

username IM SCREAMING MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS 😭😭😭

username i love this comment section sm

Liked by officialelizabetholsen, madisonbeer and others

yourinstagram vogue ✨🤍

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vogue: always a pleasure to have you 💋

username: y/n y/l/n is such an icon.

username: new era new y/n

breanahelders: those LEGS 😫

yourinstagram: open for you ;)

matthelders: can you two take this somewhere else pls 😒

mileskane: dang matthelders you just lost your girl

yourbestfriend: don’t blame him

matthelders: 💀💀 yourbestfriend

matthelders: just signed the divorce papers 😞 i can never win

breanahelders: matthelders babe don’t take this personally it’s not you

yourbestfriend: matthelders it is actually you

matthelders: yourbestfriend you can eat my foot

username: lmao y/bsf/n

username: i can’t with them

username: poor matt 😭😭

username: y/n’s comment section is a comedy show 😭😂

username: i love how breana and y/n are so gay for each other

username: i mean look at them i want them both

username: literally need her so bad 😫

username: HOW MANY LETTERS IN Y/N

username: ugh she’s everything

rosiehw: remind me why you’re not a model? 🤤

yourinstagram: i could never 😫

yourbestfriend: *you could i mean vs 👀

username: lmao yourbestfriend

username: no but seriously

username idk if i wanna be her or be with her

username: ok alex i get it now 😫

username: since no one has mentioned it is anyone else forgetting that i bet you look good on the dance floor was also about y/n

username: context pls

username: wait REALLY? EXPLAIN

username: that’s not true—is it??

username: he confirmed it during an interview years ago why are y’all so clueless

username: but he didn’t mention her name tho?? only that it was a “popular actress”

yourbestfriend: username put two and two together sis 😭

username: lmao do you think y/n knows

yourbestfriend: knowing her dumb ass i don’t think so

username: did y’all forget that y/n filmed a movie back in 2005 in sheffield 👀 yeah

username: there you have it

username: it all makes sense

username: i thought we all knew that 😭

username: in conclusion they were meant to be sorry i don’t make the rules

pinned comment 📌 yourinstagram: how come when i look for any information my only source is you guys (not that i’m complaining tho)

yourbestfriend: bc you’re so so fucking clueless that’s why babe

yourfriend: 😭😭😭

mileskane: how did we go from y/n’s legs to i bet you look good on the dance floor?

username: wtf is going on???

katiee_cook_: i’ve given up at this point

[softlyspector]

Hard Landings

Summary: Everybody in the kriffin galaxy seems to know you...Except for Poe.

He's not really dealing with that well.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: ~12.5k

Warnings: lots and lots and lots of pining, idiots in love, bit of grumpy x sunshine, angst, fluff, the reader is described as having scars, Poe being a literal absolute sweetheart about everything

A/N: My first star wars fic! Please be kind to me I tried my very best! If anything is inaccurate, no it isn’t and you don’t see it. And please, please, please (as always) let me know what you think! And a big thank you to miss @velvetofyourheart I’m glad you got to meet Poe through this fic, hopefully I did his character justice.

Poe would never admit it to a soul, but he’s a little bit obsessed with you.

The obsession comes on slowly, it creeps in and roots down in his veins before he really has a say in it, before he even meets you.

Maybe obsession isn’t quite the right word.

He has an interest.

A vested interest.

As a commander in the resistance.

Yes, that’s it.

That’s definitely how it starts, at least.

An interest.

Your name is mentioned casually to him one morning in the mess, a name he doesn’t recognize and one that is suddenly everywhere.

Repeated and repeated and repeated.

Until he wants to burst, because who are you and shouldn’t he know and why did everyone else know you and not him?

He hears about you for kriffin weeks.

Black Squadron adores you. You make an impression on Rey and Finn and Rose.

Yet, Poe never sees you.

You’re never around when he is – off doing some other thing, always just out of the room, just moved, just – not around.

It goes on for so long, that he starts to suspect you’re avoiding him. Or, that it’s an elaborate prank that’s went on for far too long and no one knows how to tell him the truth.

That you simply do not exist.

He starts to suspect you aren’t real.

He knows everyone on the base, can pick out most people by name and face and has talked to all of them at least once, in passing, in the mess, in debriefings. 

Not you.

You are a faceless mechanic that came from nowhere, that has charmed people quietly and quickly, that has a supposedly famed and wicked aim (if he has to hear about how you only hit the bullseye on the holodarts board at the cantina again he’ll lose his mind – really). 

The holodarts thing only bothers him a little – mostly because Poe has never seen you at the kriffin cantina. 

People whisper that you’re kind, that you’re quiet, that you’re stubborn, and that you’re hiding something. 

Even BB-8 knows you. The droid that almost never leaves his side, somehow knows exactly who you are.

Poe has no idea what world you come from, what led you to the resistance. He supposes it doesn’t really matter, and the fact you hadn’t offered that particular bit of information to anyone not unsurprising, considering that the things that led people to the resistance were usually traumatizing.

Poe is intrigued by you.

He has no good reason to be, really.

And at the end of the day, you are just one of the many mechanics. You’re just one of the many people that live and work on D’Qar, that’s a part of something bigger than yourself. 

But Poe? He’s never really been good at letting things go, letting it lie. He’s stubborn, he knows that, and usually he can work that to his advantage.

Not this time though. This time he feels like he can’t do anything but dig his heels in.

Poe isn’t used to being…left out. He isn’t used to feeling left out, like someone just doesn’t want him around.

He’s…well, the poster boy, the golden child, Leia’s favorite – the leader everyone looked too when things got tough.

Poe hits his breaking point when Rose mentions that you were at the cantina the night before. 

Again. 

And that he didn’t see you. 

Again. 

“What? What do you mean? I was there the whole night! And I never – ,”

“Left right before you got there,” Rose shrugs, looking to Finn for backup. “You got there later than the rest of us – the debriefing with Leia?”

Finn nods, glancing from Rose to him and back again, lifting a brow at Poe’s slightly distressed tone. “Yep. It went late, remember?”

Poe sits with that for a moment, scratching a hand over his jaw, nodding slowly. “Why doesn’t this person want to meet me?”

Finn and Rose share another concerned look. “I don’t think it’s on purpose, Poe – ,”

But Poe decides that’s enough. “Right,” he says, standing, making an effort to clear the irritation from his voice. “I’ll go introduce myself now.”

Before anyone can stop him, before he can think it through and stop himself, he’s striding away, through well-known halls and familiar corridors, BB-8 trailing along at his heels whirring and beeping as he goes.  

“I know, buddy,” he says, glancing down at the little droid. “I know it’s not on purpose.”

But it kind of feels like it’s on purpose – like you know something about him or heard something about him that makes you stay away, that makes you avoid him. Something that either isn’t right, or he needs to correct.

You aren’t avoiding him, right?

You don’t even know him.

Why are you avoiding him?

His stomach twists, because there’s always the possibility you know him from his spice runner days. “Can you lead me, Beebee?”

Really, he should have done this weeks ago. It was his responsibility to be familiar with the other pilots and mechanics.

BB-8 rolls ahead of him with a whirr, leading him toward the one of the hangars.

Another series of beeps.

Uneasy. Cautious.

Poe frowns, stepping quickly behind the droid, to the entrance to the hangar. The smell of fuel and oil and something slightly charred greets him like an old friend. It’s a smell that’s as close to home as Poe feels he’ll ever get these days.

It’s a smell that’s like flying and falling, like stars and sky, and hope.

Most people are in the mess for dinner at this time and so the usually chaotic hangar is quiet, only a couple of people lingering, quickly finishing up whatever they were working on to get to dinner too.

BB-8 races around a banked ship, Poe following closely when he pulls up short.

He watches BB-8 cross the duracrete to you and knock into your ankle.

Poe has definitely never seen you before.

He would remember someone like you.

You smile, immediately stooping down to run a hand over BB-8’s side. You have a wrench in your hand, a smear of grease on your forehead. You’re working on his x-wing. Poe does a lot of the maintenance himself, but not all of it, not these days, not with the responsibilities that weigh on him.

He can’t figure out how to put one foot in front of the other suddenly, struck a little bit dumb from where he watches you attempt to communicate with his droid. It’s obvious that you don’t understand binary, but that you’re trying to interpret his beeps to the best of your ability anyway.

You frown, furrowing your brow, mouthing something under your breath. The movement of your mouth pulls at a scar that spiderwebs over your jaw and a portion of your cheek.

Kriffin hell.

He hadn’t expected you to be so pretty. He hadn’t expected you somehow. Even from where he stands, he can see the long flutter of your lashes against your cheek, the curve of your bottom lip, the delicate knob of bone in your wrist.

You touch the droid’s domed head softly, your voice finally carrying over to him, “– sorry, honey, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

With a series of exasperated beeps, BB-8 rolls away from you, back toward Poe.

You glance up, your gaze like mourning flowers, like the sharp points of rocks at the bottom of a whirlpool, like raw burning grief. Something about you is overwhelming, something about your gaze is like tumbling through open space, like free falling in a star shower.

For a moment, he thinks you won’t spot him, but then your eyes snap to his and those fathomless, unknowable depths soften just a bit.

You lift a hand in greeting, still crouched on the floor, the corners of your lips lifting in a smile.

Beep. 

He looks down at his meddling droid.

Another sassy beep.

Go. Over.

But he can’t get his feet to carry him over to you.

So, Poe just waves, smiles back at you. He feels dopey and stupid. Black Leader, Commander Dameron, afraid to approach one of the kriffin mechanics. 

You lift a brow, dusting off the knees of your trousers as you stand.  

“Sorry for bothering you! Don’t know what’s gotten into him!” He settles on calling over to you, pointing down at BB-8 like it was his fault, like Poe didn’t ask him to lead him to you (the droid gives an indignant little whirr at the implication), before he turns on his heel and marches away, like he has somewhere important to be.

Poe Dameron is not a coward, but what he sees in the depths of your eyes scares some part of him he didn’t know existed.

Well, at least he knows you’re real.

And he now, now, he can say he’s obsessed.

Because Poe’s never backed away from something that scared him. 

~

A crash sounds to your left, makes you jump, your bad ear ringing. 

You glance up and around just in time to see your toolbox slipping to the floor in a cascade of metal. The only thing you can do is watch as your carefully organized madness spins across the floor, the noise catching the attention of a few passersby. Despite the usual chaos and noisiness of the hangar – it still attracts attention.  

A final wrench pings to the floor and you trace the orange flight-suited legs behind the new mess up, until you meet the eyes of Poe Dameron.

He’s cringing, his face contorted into a pained expression before it eases into the relaxed smile he usually sports.

Maker, he’s beautiful.

He’s unfairly attractive actually – soft dark brown curls with eyes to match, a kind of warmth behind his gaze that couldn’t be faked.

You lift a brow when he stoops down to sweep your tools back into the box, haphazardly piling anything that would fit back into the box.

The carefully organized compartments are all but ruined, it’ll take days to sort them right again. “Sorry about that,” he says, righting the box on a stool as his ever-present droid beeps at him, a little orange and white BB unit that most people adore.

Including you. 

You’re more familiar with the droid than you are with his owner.

BB-8 had a strange habit of periodically checking in with you. 

Still, you’re surprised to find Dameron in front of you at all. That day he stared at you from across the hangar is burned into the back of your mind, the way he’d looked at you like he was seeing a ghost. 

Or something worse. 

He couldn’t wait to be out of the same room as you.

Everyone who mentioned him had nothing but kind things to say, even when they were criticizing him - a little hardheaded, a little reckless. But a good leader, a good man. 

You resist the urge to reach a hand up and cover the scars that stretch across your jaw and cheek, anxiety beating through your chest. 

“It’s okay,” you answer, only a little bit of carefully controlled despair dripping through your veins, despair at your things being knocked about, despair at having been so swiftly judged by someone so supposedly kind. 

His presence is a reminder of that day, that odd little lie he told, the rejection you’d done nothing to earn but lift a hand in greeting. 

You had precious little, your things were your touchstone when everything else disappeared, when you no longer felt safe, or like yourself. Some of those tools had been with you since –

You force yourself to take a breath. 

They’re just things, you remind yourself, things that could be rearranged and replaced. 

The droid whirs and beeps again, sounding a bit irritated.

“Right,” Poe stands and sends you another overly charming smile, like he’s trying to make up for something other than your upset tools. “Beebee is right. That was a bad apology. I’m sorry for startling you and I’m really sorry about knocking over your things. I can help you reorganize them, if you want,” he offers, sheepishly rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

You blink at Poe, a little bewildered at his offer, more than a little baffled by his sudden presence.

Maybe you’d caught him at a bad time that day, maybe he’d really been rushing somewhere.

The droid swivels to look up at you, chirping excitedly, apparently now satisfied you’d been properly apologized to. You can’t help but smile and crouch down, reaching out to pat BB-8 who happily rolls forward into your hand like he always does. “Does your droid always scold you?”

“Only sometimes,” Poe says, smiling again, the crinkles by his eyes pulling at his cheeks. You’ve never seen anyone smile like that before, with their whole face, like they were putting effort into it.

If it were anyone else, you might still be a little bit irritated, but Poe’s inflection is one of total earnestness.

That, and you can already tell he’s the kind of person that it’s impossible to stay angry with.

It only helps him a little that he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. His energy is infectious, too, and you suspect that even if he wasn’t a pretty boy, he’d still be able to charm whoever he talked to, that he’d still sound like sunshine radiated right out of his veins.

You both glance at the messily assorted tools. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, some tension rolling out of your shoulders. “They needed to be sorted out again anyways. No harm done,” you say, partially to reassure yourself. “Is there a reason you’re here knocking over my things?”

Why are you suddenly talking to me now? Your real question goes unspoken.

Poe scrubs a hand through his hair, curls artfully threading around his fingers, messy but like it was supposed to be that way. “Well, word around base is that you can fix pretty much anything.”

You frown at him, cocking an eyebrow up.  

Were people saying that? It’s verifiably untrue. There are plenty better mechanics than you. You preferred tinkering with more delicate things anyway, smaller machinery than the ships that surround you. 

“I can certainly try,” you answer cautiously, still patting BB-8. “But I gotta ask – who told you that? I think I’m a pretty average mechanic.”

You don’t know much about Poe Dameron, besides the popular, regular gossip about him.

He’s hotheaded, he’s reckless, he’s a great leader, he’s the best pilot in the whole kriffin galaxy, he’s the poster boy of the resistance, he’s kind, he’s a flirt, he’s –

He’s staring at you guiltily, like he’s been caught doing something bad, and you have a feeling that his sudden interest has something to do with the day he avoided you.

It’s a miracle you hadn’t seen him before that day, especially considering how much you interacted with Jessika and Snap and Finn and so many others. Because Poe knows everyone, is friends with damn near everyone.

But you haven’t really had cause to speak with him yourself before he so boldly strode over and knocked your tools to the floor, before he stared at you from across the room and sent little bolts of panic racing around your veins.

It had been hard not to notice Poe, to wonder about him, even if you didn’t interact with him yourself.

“Finn and Rose. Rey too. Which, if Rey is saying that you can fix anything…well, I thought she was the one that could fix anything.”

You tilt your head and straighten, BB-8 rolling back to Poe’s side as you do. “What is it that you need help with exactly?”

Poe stares at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes before he recovers himself and reaches out a hand. “Poe Dameron, by the way, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

You don’t take his hand, nodding back at him, locking your fingers tightly together behind your back. “No. You were in such a hurry the other day,” you say, watching as Poe winces, testing your theory of guilt. “But everyone seems to know you around here,” you let him off the hook a bit and tell him your own name, though he clearly already knows it.

He lowers his hand, doesn’t make a big deal about you not taking it.

Which you appreciate.

“Everyone knows you, too,” he says. “Except for me.”

“I really doubt that.”

“No, really!” He exclaims. “All of Black Squadron – all they talk about is you. Kriffin hell, if I have to hear one more time how you’ve never miss the bullseye in holodarts...” he trails off, shaking his head. 

You blink, just a bit surprised. Though you see all of the pilots quite a lot, you didn’t think they talked about you, thought about you outside of your brief conversations with them, your very occasional outings to the cantina. 

“Maybe that’s just because I keep them from falling out of the sky,” you say to Poe before you can really think your words through.  

Poe laughs, and it’s a nice sound, even if it startles you just a little.

Maker, how did anyone bare being around him for more than a few minutes? When he looks the way he does and smiles like that and laughs like that?

Poe is the kind of person who burns, scorches the world around him. His energy is like an exploding star and you can already feel yourself getting sucked into his orbit. 

He nods you in the direction of his x-wing which you’re more than familiar with. You frown as you approach. “Something happen in flight? It was fine before.”

There had only been drill flights earlier so you can’t imagine something drastic could have happened to it. 

Poe maneuvers behind you, brushing a friendly hand across your shoulders as he passes you. You stiffen and the hand is retracted, but he doesn’t call attention to it, just works at removing an external panel of the ship while you stand by, arms crossed over your chest as you watch.

He lifts the panel, chattering on at you about some of the wiring.

You frown and watch him, the flutter of his lashes, the movement of his throat, the bit of warm brown skin that peeps through the open collar of his flight suit.

The problem he claims to be having with the wiring is so simple a child could have fixed it. You narrow your eyes and watch Poe Dameron lie straight to your face about not knowing how to fix it, about not even knowing what was wrong in the first place.

Stars, he’s a bad liar.

But when he turns to you with those wide, brown eyes, you don’t have the heart to call him on it.

Though you have to wonder why.

Why pretend?

Why pretend not to know what the problem is? How to fix it?

Just to speak with you? Surely not. 

You glance down at BB-8 who stares up at you, like he knows what’s going on too and is begging you not to mention how stupid it all is.

A laugh bubbles to the back of your throat, one that you have to bite your lip to avoid leaving you.

Poe feels guilty about the other day, you would guess, and this is his in to talking to you, making it up.

Like he couldn’t have just approached you under the guise of introducing himself.

Its profoundly circuitous and you find yourself warming to him because of it.

So, you just reach out, point out to problem with the wiring. “There’s your issue. Here – ,” you step forward and make quick work of righting the issue, holding back a grin as you do.

This is certainly not something you expected from Poe, he seemed like a more direct person to you.

Like the day he’d marched into the hangar, clearly with the intention to talk to you, only to back away and lie.

Maker, he does feel guilty.

He’s smiling at you again, watching you with rapt attention.

BB-8 rolls slow circles around the pair of you, engulfing you in your own personal bubble with Dameron.

“So, are you heading to the mess now? For dinner?”

You tilt your head, “Sure, Poe.”

“Wanna eat together?” He’s not looking at you, there’s a tracery of pink on his neck, creeping up his throat. He knows he’s been caught.

“I promise I won’t tell Rey,” You say, just to watch him blink over at you in surprise, just to watch the pink spread and turn red. “That you would think she can’t fix something like this.”

He laughs, the sound loud and unrestrained. “Thanks. Guess I should have made up a real problem.”

“Should have,” you chirp. “Something really complicated. Next time, rip out this,” you suggest, pointing to a panel. “That’s a real problem. No steering.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he’s grinning like a fool at you.

Famous charm, famous flirt.

You shake yourself, wonder at how quickly you were sucked in by him.

You clamp that feeling in place, ice it off, seal it away. You won’t, can’t, get attached to anyone. And you don’t like the feelings bubbling up in you. “Glad we finally got to talk, Commander Dameron. I don’t think I’ll be able to join you at dinner.”

Before he can ask, you walk away.

But you feel that burning gaze, the weight of his eyes on you, until you turn a corner out of his sight.

~

Poe tries to right his wrong.

Of course, it backfires. Of course, he decides to do it in the stupidest way possible.

Beebee doesn’t let him forget it. 

He’s still a little bit afraid of you and the things that lie in your eyes, but that only fuels his interest, his obsession. 

But approaching you after that first encounter – casually – seemed like a bad idea. He didn’t want to mention how he’d basically fled the room – Maker, he can only imagine what you think of him because of that.

Having a reason to approach you, like needing help with something, seemed so much better.

“So, you’re going to lie to her?” Rose had asked him. “Why? Just introduce yourself, Poe. I thought you did that when you marched off the other day.” She’d seemed disgruntled. “It’s not even a good lie!”

And Poe was notoriously bad at lying.

Still, he hadn’t been able to regret it as he watched you replace the couple of tangled wires he’d hastily tugged out of their respective panels. Not when you were so close to him, not when you smelled like engine fuel and something distinctly earthy, not when he could see the swoop of your lashes against your cheek and the webbed scar that extended down your neck into the collar of your shirt.

The way you hold yourself, upright and proud, but guarded, makes him want to peel back the layers of who you are.

So even if the excuse is stupid, even if he pulled those wires out himself, he’s glad he did it.

Even if you turned down his offer to eat together, it gives him an opening into your life.

Whenever he has time, which isn’t much, he makes a point to seek you out.

Anytime he sees you in the mess, he makes a point of sitting beside you and talking to you, even if it’s just to watch you grumble about how close he is.

He notices that you don’t like to be touched, that you seize up like you’ve been electrocuted. You try not to tell him things, but some things slip out, some things are just hard not to notice about you.

You’re afraid of flying, your home world was warm year-round and you don’t like feeling even a little bit chilly. You like those blasted holodramas that Poe thought no one in the galaxy actually watched, you read maintenance manuals in your spare time. The tools you use have undue importance to you, he catches you cataloguing a couple of them more than once, just to check they were still there. He notices that your hearing isn’t as good on your left side, that you’re more easy to startle if he approaches from that way, and so he always goes to your right.

Poe brings you cups of caf until he realizes you don’t really like how bitter it is, your face screwing up with the bold flavor of it. So, he starts bringing you something sweet instead, something warm. It makes him happy because he likes sweet things too, he always found the caf too bitter too.

He hunts down a jacket for you, one of the ones with fur on the inside and leaves it on your workbench.

He has a feeling that if he gave it to you in person, you’d never wear it.

Poe isn’t sure why you’re so closed off, especially with him, but eventually you stop frowning when he appears, you smile and greet him and ask him how his day has been.

Poe doesn’t think you realize it, but one day, one of the days when he’s lost people and things feel hopeless and he still smells like kriffin fuel after washing for so long his skin feels raw, you pass your cup back to him – filled with that something sweet.

It’s still warm, and he likes to think maybe he can taste the shape of you on the rim of the cup.

“I heard what happened,” you say. “I was waiting for you.” You don’t offer any platitudes, and he’s glad for it. It just makes it sting worse, when people say things like – I’m sorry and It’s not your fault.

It’ll always be kind of his fault.

That’s just who he is, what he does.

But you don’t seem to realize what you’ve admitted. That you wait for him, think about him while he’s gone.

And before Poe can think about that too much, you’re passing something else to him. “They had them in the mess while you were away. Saved some for you.”

You press a koyo fruit into his hand, your skin carefully not touching his.

You smile and take the cup from him, sipping from the same place his lips had just touched.

Instead of saying thank you, like he should, like he wants to, he asks for something else from you. Some deeper part of who you are. He slides his thumb across the skin of the fruit, reminded of home. His throat is tight with gratitude when he asks, “Why don’t you like to fly?”

You blink long at him, fingers tightening on the cup until he worries you’ll hurt your hand.

He waits, is about to tell you that you don’t have to say it, not ever, but you nod, and loosen your grip on the cup. Instead of speaking, you gesture to the scars that disappear into the collar of your shirt.

Poe just nods.

“What about before?” He asks, probably against his better judgement. “Before that?”

“Nothing better than being in the stars,” you answer easily, gaze distant. “Maker, I loved flying.”

He can’t help the grin that pulls over his face.

~

Poe Dameron easily becomes a menace in your life.

A nuisance some could say.

He starts appearing in your life, in your carefully created little bubble, anytime he can.

Really, he’s got no good reason to.

Still.

He starts finding reasons to be in your presence.

Poe becomes your problem, and your solution.

True to his word, even when you tell him he doesn’t have to, he helps you reorganize your tools.

He sits with you at your workbench any free moment he has, brings you cups of caf and then replaces it with a sweet drink you can’t name, makes probing small talk, tells you about his home world.

You learn a lot about Poe, about his life. He talks about flying a lot – a romantic edge in his voice that doesn’t fit with being a pilot in a war. You let yourself imagine Poe as a different kind of pilot, the kind that could just go, be, explore.

But you can’t figure out why he tells you these things, you offer hardly anything in return. He shouldn’t be interested in you, he should have given up on you a long time ago, he should have gotten bored of you a long time ago.

You don’t tell him how your home world was destroyed, you don’t explain your fear of flying even if you do let that information slip out.

Poe’s eyes go round when you tell him that, like he can’t imagine it, being afraid of something he lived for, loved more than anything.

He doesn’t ask why in that moment, though he does eventually.

And when he does, you tell him.

You tell him, and he accepts it for what it is.

A sneaky little, “You should let me show you how to love it again,” slipped in before he left you that night, koyo fruit in hand.

You do not want to know Poe Dameron. You don’t want to care about him. You don’t want to care about any of these people. Caring about people just complicated things, just made everything worse, when something inevitably took them from you.

And you’re starting to rely on Dameron, you’re starting to care about him. Really care about him and weather he made it back in that banged up ship of his.

You never meant to make an impression on them, never meant to make them think about you more than they should. Never, you never should have gone to the cantina with Black Squadron when Jessika Pava invited you. And you certainly shouldn’t have gotten sucked into a game of holodarts – something which apparently lived in everyone’s memory just because you happened to be a good shot.

Dameron is the worst of all – always around, always smiling, always cracking jokes. He’s also the one who leaves the most, who comes back to D’Qar singed and beaten and who takes far too many risks.

He makes you nervous, not just because of the way he flies – like nothing can touch him, like he’ll always make it out alive – but also because of his penchant for digging himself into your skin, burrowing himself inside you and becoming a part of your life, your routine.

You want to hate him so badly.

You want to stop caring about him, but Dameron is determined to be in your life, he’s determined to assault you with daily kindnesses.

And so, you start to care about him, to like him, to wonder about him and find your thoughts occupied with the ways you could make him smile on the days where he can’t.

The world always feels like its ending. The war feels never ending. Something life altering is always happening, always just around the corner.

You hate it.

Poe is talking to you now, rattling on about something or the other, and you can’t focus because it’s hard to breathe – it’s hard to breathe when you have to stand by and watch him climb into the x-wing you take meticulous care of, and stick that stupid helmet over his head.

“I’ll be okay, you know,” he says, grinning down at you. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

Maker, let that be true, you think.

Instead, with acid on your tongue, you say, “I’m not worried about you, Poe.”

“I’ll come find you when I’m back.”

Like you wouldn’t be waiting anxiously the entire time, like you wouldn’t go sit out on one of the bluffs hidden by the trees and stare up at the stars, imagining you might be able to see his ship if you looked hard enough. 

“You don’t have to do that. I probably won’t even notice you’re gone. It’s not like I send all my time thinking about you.”

Poe laughs at your tartness, “Okay. I’ll be thinking about you though, so I’ll still come find you.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed that it makes you happy. “Bye, Beebee, stay safe,” you say to his droid instead of him, walking away before Poe can say anything else, the noise and commotion of the hangar too loud for you to hear anything else anyways.

Despite your best intentions, you think about Poe while he’s gone. You save some of those blasted koyo fruits from the mess because he always acts like he’ll die when he misses out on them. They’re native to his Yavin IV and remind him of home even if he doesn’t say it. His mother had planted a koyo tree when he was a child, and they grew in their yard.

You’re always one of the first to know when he’s back. People make sure to tell you, even when you don’t ask.

You never touch Poe, but you sit close to him when he gets back, and give him those stupid fruits, and share a cup. He still smells like fuel, but you don’t mind, because its Poe, because he’s alive.

And you admit to him that night that you were waiting, that you always wait for him, if only to see him smile.

He makes you feel like an idiot, he makes you feel uncertain, because he is so very certain.

Despite it all, Dameron is there, and if he can’t be, his droid is.

He invites you to dinner whenever he can, and once you go, just to watch him beam like sunshine, just to watch him hold court, make everyone in the mess his best friends for an hour.

Hope, Poe had a way of inspiring hope, of making people laugh when things got tough, of making them believe in something better.

You grow a little bit attached to him, find yourself waiting for him from time to time, even when he’s not away, before you catch yourself and feel that ice around your heart shiver and spiderweb and crack.

Maybe you should stay away from him, but you can’t – not when the sun of him feels so nice, is melting the ice.

Not when he looks at you with eyes softened by something unknown, something you don’t want to see or recognize. 

Because you can’t have the inside of you exposed to the light again.

But you can’t quite bring yourself to make him stop either.

~

“Here.”

You glance up, squinting into the low light. “Poe,” you say, not at all surprised. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling. “Just take it will you?”

You grin back, flip your magnifying glasses above your forehead and peel off your gloves before taking the cup Poe is offering you.

“Do you ever stop?”

“Do you?” You counter easily, sipping at the sweet drink as Poe sits on the spare chair across from you at the workbench.

He shakes his head, “Guess not. Hard for me to sit still. There’s always something else to do.”

You nod, yanking the glasses off your head and tossing them onto the bench. You haven’t seen him in a while, you want his attention. “It’s late,” you comment, trying to hide a yawn.

“I know.”

There are purple circles beneath his eyes, creases at the edge of his cheek, like he’d accidentally fallen asleep on something.

“Why don’t you go get some sleep then, Poe?” You ask gently.

He shakes his head, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes. “When I haven’t seen you in weeks? Never.” 

You snort. “What, you need me to put you to bed or something?” 

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” he hedges. 

“Of course you wouldn’t.” 

He peeks one eye open at you, “Is it so surprising that I like being around you?” 

You look away, fidget with your fingers, the edge of your jacket. A jacket you know is a gift from Poe. “A little bit. It’s hard to imagine why.”

For a moment, you don’t consider continuing, you don’t even think of it, because there’s nothing more to say. It really is hard to believe. Why should he? When you give so little of yourself in return? When Poe burns brighter than the sun and you are but a faded star?

But before you can think of something to say, of the words to describe how you feel, before you can get your next words out, Poe leans forward, right into your space, the smell of him, the scent of clean soap, the fresh smell of the shampoo he used, the cologne he put on, invading every part of you, diving down into your veins, like sunshine on ice. “I like you,” he says softly. “That’s why.”

His gaze is warm and open. Big brown eyes staring at you from beneath thick lashes.

You blink at him, “I like you too, Poe.”

And you do, you like him too much, maybe to your own detriment. 

But you don’t say it the way he does, with teeth and grit and meaning. You say it like you don’t understand what he means, what his constant presence means, what his patience with you and you only means, what the jacket left on your workbench means, what the cups of something sweet, and always approaching you from the right side means.

Poe likes you. And he wants you to know it.

Poe doesn’t smile at you, just watches you for a moment. “You don’t get it do you? What do I have to do to make you get it?”

“Poe…” You trail off, not sure what to say to him. “I don’t understand why.”

“Does it matter why?” He sounds a little bit offended. “Why is it such a surprise anyway? I’m not…I don’t really know how to be subtle,” he offers. “I’m telling you. I like you.”

You bite your lip, worry at the hem of your shirt. 

But there are things he doesn’t know, and there are things you aren’t sure you can give. 

And because he could have pretty much anyone he wanted and yet he wasted his time here with you. Because the world is always ending, and you can’t lose everything again.

And Poe, he’s sort of becoming everything to you.

Instead of answering, you drain the rest of the drink, flick out your light, and switch off your datapad. “You need sleep, Dameron,” you say. “It’s making you delusional.”

Poe stands, following along after you without complaint, rounding a corner into an empty corridor.

“So, it doesn’t matter why?” he chirps, smilingly upbeat again, like you didn’t just reject him without explanation.

You roll your eyes, following a well-known path to his quarters. “Of course, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t. You could just accept it.”

You reach his door, automatically punching in the code, stepping back to wave him in ahead of you. “Poe,” you stop him, standing very close to him in the low light of his room. You can see every lash against his cheek, the bruise darkening along his brow. “It’s better this way.”

“I don’t think it is,” he says, obstinate about it.  

You sigh, exasperated, opening your mouth to respond when he cuts you off. “No. You’re wrong about this. It’s not better this way.”

“Poe,” you say again, growing frustrated. “You don’t know anything about me. I give you nothing in return for all you do. You should hate me. I can’t even touch you. I can’t even look at you when you leave. I can’t even say goodbye.”

You stop, press your hands across your chest, ribs aching with the pressure you exert. You wait for him to get it, but Poe just says your name, so quietly and sweetly it makes you want to crumble. “Baby,” he coos, and you know he’s thinking about reaching out to you, about how much easier it would be if you were an easier person. Your throat goes tight with the sound of that pet name on Poe’s lips, directed at you. “Baby,” he repeats, palms open, eyes like little galaxies of their own. His lips twitch up into a gentle grin, “I know you. You’re easy to know.”

And Poe repeats the things he knows about you. That you like it warm and come from a warm world. That you don’t like bitter things. That you’re meticulous with your tools and work, that you preferred to be alone when you worked but you like to have company when you eat. That you’re easily annoyed by loud noises and that your left ear is sensitive. That you pretended to think the koyo fruits were too sweet but that you now look forward to them just as much as Poe does.

“You tell me things. You just don’t realize it. I like who you are.” Poe steps away from you, toward his bed, slumping down to yank off his boots.

The circles under his eyes are in sharp contrast with his skin in the low lighting of his quarters. You stand there, not sure what to say, not sure if you want to say anything. Not really sure how to say anything.

“Poe,” you say softly, his name on your lips making him pause, glancing up at you with eyes that are such a rich warm brown, you’d gladly lie there forever, gladly lie in that shade and sleep. “Thank you.”

His brow softens, that little pinch smoothing out, and he holds out a hand to you.

You hesitate, not sure the contact won’t kill you, won’t end everything you know.

“C’mon, you’re tired too. Stay with me,” he lays back, scoots as far away as he can. He doesn’t say it, but you hear it anyways. I won’t touch you.

You pull your feet out of your shoes and kick them away, and you lie down beside Poe as he flicks out the light. He turns to you in the dark, the shine of his eyes the only thing visible to you before your eyes adjust and his features come slowly into focus.

He’s beautiful, unreal in his beauty.

Poe smiles. “Are you going to stay?”

“Sure, Poe.”

“Good.” His eyes flutter shut and you have to tangle your fingers together to resist the urge to reach out and touch his cheek, to trace the arch of bone.

You shut your eyes instead, and listen to Poe’s quick breathing, the shift of him on the bed, still fully clothed and above the blanket.

You tilt closer, wriggle closer.

You want to press your nose into his shoulder, into his bicep, you want to dig your teeth into him, to consume him.

Because he’s just so…Poe.

He’s everything you don’t really deserve.

The scent of him overwhelms you – forest pine and rainwater, the lingering smell of fuel that you’re starting to become addicted to.

Just before you fall asleep, you press your nose into his shoulder, you feel the briefly light touch of his hand against your cheek. The feather light touch is immediately retracted, jerked away, a reprimand unto itself.

But you wish it would linger.

~

You don’t make things easy on him after that night, like you regret falling asleep so close to him.

He should have known better than to fall asleep too, he was a clingy sleeper, and he hated the panic in your eyes at finding his skin against yours when you woke.

There had been a moment, between waking and realizing, where Poe had been blissfully happy. It had been a long time since he woke up touching someone else and he was loathe to let that feeling slip away, it was only a bonus that this person smelled just like you.  

But then he’d opened his eyes and found you really there, a look in your eyes like you were deciding whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Instead, you mumbled an apology and stumbled out of bed, out of the room.

There are some days after that when Poe just can’t find you, no matter where he checks, no matter what he does.

He thinks about the way your hands sometimes shake, about the times where you look like you haven’t slept in days and days and days, the scar that trails over your jaw, the circles under your eyes, the haggard, drowning look in your gaze. Like something is tormenting you. 

He wonders sometimes if he should just let you be, he wonders if he is the thing that’s tormenting you.

Your eyes haunt him, the look in them still scares him. 

But he doesn’t want to look away, he doesn’t want to give up on you, not for anything. Poe doesn’t give up, doesn’t look away from things that are difficult. And you always come around eventually, looking for him but pretending that you aren’t, quietly sitting down beside him or waving to him from across a crowded room.

There are times that things keep him away – he’s off planet, he’s on a mission, he’s participating in kriffin diplomacy. He misses you like a part of himself has been lost. 

And ever since you came around, he can’t focus on anything else, can’t think about anyone else. 

No one else can warm his bed, not even for a night.

He doesn’t consider anything more with anyone else because –

Well, because they don’t bring him koyo fruits and sit out and stare at the stars when he’s away and tells BB-8 goodbye and not him because it’s too painful, it’s too close to losing too much.

He wishes you would just let him in. 

~

“You’re going,” Poe says, standing with his arms crossed at the threshold of the mess. He’s vaguely sweaty, a black mark across his forehead and down his cheek, a frayed kind of burned smell emanating from him.

Half the buttons on his shirt are undone and you want to hate him for it. You hate that expanse of skin, the ever present chain around his neck poking out. Another piece of himself he’d given you, why he wore the necklace. That his mother’s ring is looped on the end. Poe had let you see it, let you fist your hand around it, trace the edge of the ring.

He’s back from a mission, something, you don’t know.

Your brain goes all fuzzy, blanks out the specifics of what goes on with the actual flying in the sky part of things. You don’t like to think about it, don’t like to know the details of what he does, what any of the kriffin pilots do. 

Maker, to be afraid of flying in a place like this was like being a bird with its wings clipped, defenseless and easy to be left behind.

You wrinkle your nose and turn away from him. “Not sure what you’re talking about, Dameron.”

Poe strides forward and takes the seat across from you. “Cantina. Tonight. You’re going. We had a very successful mission,” he beams at you, clearly proud, satisfied. He doesn’t offer details, knows it makes you anxious. “And you’re coming to the cantina.”

You don’t care about the mission, you’re just glad he’s back. 

But all you say is - 

“Nice try. I don’t respond to pressure,” you refocus on your datapad.

“I command – ,”

You groan, “No – ,”

“Yes! As Commander Dameron, I…” he hesitates, clearly trying to think of a synonym for command. You lift a brow, and he continues with much less zeal and gravitas, “ –command you to come with me to the cantina tonight. I can finally watch you beat everyone at holodarts in person.”

“That really hurts your feelings, doesn’t it?” You snort. “It’s just darts.”

He pouts at you, an exaggerated expression that makes you laugh. “Yeah, it does actually.”

You shake your head, reaching out to adjust the collar of his shirt a little bit. Poe stops breathing, his shoulders tense, as you smooth the fabric back. “What happened to your flight suit?” You ask, silently begging anyone listening for him not to mention your fingers against his shirt.

“Had to look my best before I came to see you,” he recovers quickly, his eyes on your hand as you withdraw your touch, brows ticking up. “Didn’t I?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Stars, this is your best?”

“Hey!”

You bite down the smile that threatens to overcome you. “You definitely didn’t hit the fresher before you came here.”

Poe rolls his eyes, “Are you going to come or not?”

“Sure,” You agree. “Just this once.”

He blinks, surprised, because you’ve never gone with him. “Really?”

You pause, watching him, “Kriff, Poe, do you want me to go or don’t you? I can change my mind – ,”

“No! No, no, no, you’re coming. You already said yes.” he’s beaming at you, just sitting there looking at you, eyes flicking over your face, smiling like you’ve agreed to something much more important than going to the cantina. “I missed you,” he says suddenly, the words bursting forth like they no longer fit inside his mouth.  

“Right,” you agree, sliding your gaze to your datapad again, not acknowledging his words, “Just come find me after you’ve found some soap.”

You should tell him, you think. You should tell him what happened to you.

There’s something like hardened trust between you and Poe now, something deeper than that too, something you’re afraid to name.

He deserves to know.

And selfishly, you want him, you want him to touch you again, you want to touch him again without surprise pulling over his features, you want him to keep bringing you cups something sweet and you want to keep hoarding koyo fruit for him. 

You owe him the truth, the core of you, in exchange for everything he’s given you, so he can make a decision about you. 

~

Poe finds you exactly where he left you earlier, hunched over a datapad in the now nearly empty mess, brow furrowed as you review schematics, make notes on them, absently twirling a stylus.

He plucks up the datapad and switches it off.

You glance up, your fathomless mourning eyes brightening when they fasten on him. “You look nice,” you say in a rare moment of openness, like you can’t help but let the words tumble out.

A heat he doesn’t expect crawls up his neck, traces over his cheeks. “Let’s go. We’re holodarts partners.”

You wrinkle your nose as you stand, carefully wrapping your hand around his elbow, your fingers avoiding direct contact with his skin. But he can feel the warmth of you through his shirt and that’s enough. “Who decided that?”

“Me.”

“So I’ll be carrying our team then.”

“Ouch,” he lies his other hand against his heart, trying not to disturb your touch on his arm.  

The pressure of your fingers at his elbow feels so good, warm and heavy, and Poe thinks he’s actually starting to become a bit touch starved. Never has indirect touch felt so good.

He’s normally a touchy person, and it’s been a bit of a challenge to remind himself that touch scared you. He hugs his friends, sure, and the pilots are a strangely tactile bunch, but there was something deeper he craved, something only a partner could really give, something that he hasn’t had since he’s gotten hung up on you.

Poe isn’t really even thinking about sex, just touching, just holding you, any part of you, of being allowed to hug you when he sees you, kissing you, holding your hand.

He fantasizes, sometimes, about getting to hold your kriffin hand.

You’re gradually coming around to careful touches though.

Even a couple weeks ago he could have never imagined you willingly tucking your hand against his arm.

Once at the cantina, you refuse to play holodarts with him, claiming it isn’t fair. “Black Leader should have to fend for himself, shouldn’t he?” You say quietly over the rim of your drink, not looking at him but grinning when everyone starts to heckle him.

So it ends up that everyone is partnered but Poe.

You sit out the games, instead chatting with Rey, the two of you bent over your glasses, talking lowly about something. What you might be talking about, Poe can only guess. But it’s distracting enough that he loses every single game.

Finally, after all this time, you’re here at the cantina together, and you don’t want anything to do with him.

You laugh at something Rey says, your eyes crinkling at the corners, fingers laced together over the tabletop as you lean closer to listen.

It’s only much later, when you’ve had a few drinks that someone fits a dart into your hand and nudges you up that he gets to watch your famed aim. You refuse at first, and so adamantly that people start to complain, and Poe has to warn them off it. You’re a little bit tipsy but you’re still game, still willing to indulge them a little.

They make you stand much further back than normal, make you spin in a circle a few times, until you’re laughing and dizzy and Snap has to catch you gently when you almost trip. The others are trying to test you, to see if you really have skill or if you’re just particularly good at holodarts.

You barely take a breath between shots.

Every single dart meets its mark, dead centered on the glowing board across the room. Drunken cheers erupt and coalesce around you. You look vaguely embarrassed, like you don’t want the attention. Your smile is tense, your fingers tight on the next dart, eyes flashing to his gaze where he hoots along with everyone else.

“Someone needs to get a blaster in your hand!” One of the recruits says, jostling an arm around your shoulders.

Your smile goes, tight, hard, panicked – and you gently extract yourself, laughing, brushing your fingers over your arms before you cross them tightly across your chest.

He starts to move toward you, but someone else is already there. Rose and Finn pulling you toward the bar, away from him again.

Poe misses the searching glance you direct back at him.

~

“Hey,” you press your hand against Poe’s back hours later, squeezing in next to him at the bar. Poe immediately turns to you, beaming like sunshine incarnate. He tilts his head down and your breath stalls for a moment, your mind curiously blank.

Touching Poe, you’ve found, is nice. Your skin doesn’t crawl with the sensation, pain doesn’t echo inside you with the warmth of him against you. It’s so nice, and you want more.

That first time had scared you so badly, you were conditioned to find pain in touch, and it was only after you abandoned him in his quarters that you realized you felt none of those things. It had felt good, warm and safe, like being bundled up against a cold wind.

“Hey!” he answers, a curl of his dark hair feathering along your forehead, his nose nearly touching yours. “You havin’ a good time?”

“Yes,” you answer, your fingers still against the back of his shirt, curling into the fabric. “But I miss you. You left me,” you echo his words from earlier in the evening, the ones you couldn’t make yourself parrot back to him in that moment.

“I’m right here,” he smiles at you still, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He looks tired, exhausted, older than you’ve ever seen him.

His skin is warm through his shirt, and you have to resist the temptation to lean into him, to press your nose to his throat and inhale. The smell of his skin is coppery with sweat and his cologne, the breath of something very Poe just beneath. “Sorry I wouldn’t partner with you earlier.”

“S’okay,” he says, eyes dark and framed with lashes that make you jealous. You want to touch them, count each little hair.

He’s pretty, so very beautiful, and you’re angry with yourself for wasting your evening anywhere but right here. His shirt is unbuttoned, the chain he wears around his neck peeking out, the length of his throat, the twist of tendon in his neck, mesmerizing.

Poe tilts his head closer to you, carefully not touching you, eyes fluttering shut, lashes long and dark against flushed golden skin.

You laugh.

He’s a little bit drunk and it shows.

You tighten your fingers into the back of his shirt again, tugging gently, “Poe,” you say, breathing his name out softly. “Poe, will you come with me?”

He doesn’t even ask where, just nods and follows you when you step away from him.

You let go of his shirt and watch him frown at you, like he just realized that your hand had been on him at all and now he’s missing the feeling. “C’mon,” you nudge, “It’s a secret.”

“Secret,” Poe echoes, an excited smile tugging back into place on his face. “Okay.” You start to trail away, through the thick forest greens that make up D’Qar, and Poe follows closely behind you. You glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s still there but Poe does you the service of talking your ear off, so you don’t have to constantly check he’s still there, rambling on about whether or not droids have souls, stomping loudly through the dark forest, your path lit only by the light of D’Qar’s moons.

The dry swell of his voice is comforting, the rumble of it pitching upward when he gets particularly excited about something.

You drop back to walk next to him, pushing aside verdant undergrowth as the ground begins to slope upwards. Poe doesn’t question you, just follows, climbing up the hillock until the trees thin and a cool breeze slips through the hanging vines.

The edge of a cliff looms ahead.

The bluff isn’t that high, and there’s a small waterfall that feeds into a pond. You think it’s beautiful, lush emerald below and the flight of stars overhead, the glow of two moons. But Poe turns to you with a frown, a worried line appearing between his brows. The spray of mist from the fall rises around you both, cocoons you in itself.

A light breeze shifts the collar of his shirt, all those undone buttons, the breath of exposed skin and the chain that hangs around his neck.

And before Poe can say anything, to you or about you or about this strange little world you’ve brought him to, you lose the courage you thought you had – the courage to tell him, finally, why. And what happened. And what you feel.

Before you can change your mind, you step around him and leap into the void.

~

When he looks over the edge of the cliffside, he imagines the spikes of rocks in the water below.

The swirl of the water reminds him of that thought he had about your eyes the first time he saw you. Grief like the sharp tips of rocks at the bottom of a pool.

Poe gets that feeling again, the same one that had bubbled up in him when he first met your eyes. Fear rakes through him, but he’s never backed away from something that scares him, not even you. With his heartbeat loud in his ears, and an unknown feeling tugging at the back of his throat, Poe watches you jump.

He lets out a strangled gasp.

You hang there for a moment, suspended in space, light from the moons crystalizing around you, threading through your hair. And Poe thinks, Maker, save me, because you look like a falling star, you look like all the stars in the galaxy raining down.

And then you drop and fall into the pond, sinking so deeply he loses sight of you.

You disappear from sight and Poe curses, not hesitating to follow you, jumping over the side too, without hesitation because all he can think about are the blades of rocks.

The water is dark and something darts by his ankle, but when he surfaces, you’re already there, smiling at him, your teeth shining in the light of the moons. Any warmth he felt from the glow of the drinks settled in his veins has evaporated. “Kriffin hell, what were you thinking – ,”

You bob closer to him, the falls a distant roar, your lips dipping below the surface of the water. His breath stutters to a halt, through the cool cut of the water, your warm hand tangles with his.

For the second, third, fourth time tonight, you’re willingly touching him, and this time it’s your bare skin against his.

You stroke your thumb over the back of his hand, “I do it all the time. It’s fine.” You point up at the cliff, water trailing down your arm, “That’s where I watch for you.” Your arm ticks out, pointing at the stars now.

Poe catalogues that information for later, his brain short circuiting at the thought of you at the top of that cliff alone, waiting and watching the stars.  

“A little warning would have been nice,” he huffs. “You know there are predators in this forest.”

“And yet, I’ve always been fine.” You ghost your other hand up his arm, fisting in the collar of his shirt. “Jumping…It’s the closest feeling I get to flying these days.”

Poe doesn’t know how to respond for a moment, watching beads of water pearl and drip down your face, over the line of your nose and curve of your jaw. “What happened?” He asks the question he never dares to.

You hesitate for only a moment, sliding your hand down his arm. The moment is surreal, the warmth of you like walking on the surface of a sun, like flying through fire. It’s only made more intense by the cold water around you, binding you together. “What happens to everyone, I think. I’m not special.” You shrug, the whites of your eyes blinding in the dark quiet world you’ve brought him to. “The First Order came. I was the only one left. After.”

The way you say it is breathless, like you’re breathing through pain, an old injury.

“It’s more than that,” he says, stubborn about it. “There’s more.”

You blink, water webbing in your lashes. “And I want to tell you, Poe. Will you listen?”

~

You tell him about the destruction of your home world.

“I raced,” you say hollowly, sitting next to him in the sand that rings the pond. “I used to race. I always won. I was really good at flying, Poe. I can’t remember ever losing.”

Poe squeezes your fingers, the sensation of finally getting to touch you muddling his brain just a bit. “What did you race?”

“Anything,” you say breathlessly. “Anything that I could. Anything that would fly.” You pause and clear the tightness from your voice, “Anyways, we didn’t have much of a resistance presence and no connections. So, when the First Order came…” you trail off and don’t continue for a long time, turning your forehead into Poe’s shoulder, the crown of your head heavy against his arm.

“It was over before it started. But we had to try. I thought I could fly anything. And I could. But it was just me and a few others and it was…there was no way…” you swallow. “I was the only one left, and I crashed.”  

There are a lot of details you’re leaving out, that’s clear. But the pain in your voice makes him keep his questions to himself. Instead, Poe strokes his hand along your temple, the curve of your cheek, swipes away the tears before they can really escape.

You only continue when he wraps an arm around your waist. Those eyes, your mourning flower eyes, like the deadliness of unseen depths, like something sharp and angry and deep, flash open.

You still scare him, but he never wants to look away, he never wants you to look away. Those pierced, shattered bits of you stare back at him. “I crashed. And there was nothing and no one and – everyone was gone.” Dead, you don’t say. Everyone was dead. “And I didn’t even have a medpack. No food. Everything hurt. It still hurts sometimes, like I can feel how raw my body was for so long. That’s why…the scars. The wounds weren’t treated and so I scarred really badly. And the pain never really goes away. It’s worse when people touch me because it wasn’t over. That wasn’t the end of it.”

You close your eyes, “They found me. But I didn’t know anything because I was just some kid with a ship and guts. They thought I knew some kriffin resistance secret.”

Poe goes still.

You were tortured.

“What happened?” he asks, instead of lingering on that thought, on those dreadful memories that swarm up the back of his throat.  

“I wasn’t worth killing. Or maybe they thought I was as good as dead, or already dead. They left me. Somewhere. I don’t remember. Until I was found and healed. I don’t really remember by who. I don’t remember where I was. And then I didn’t know what to do for a long time. My memories are…they come and go. Eventually, I joined the resistance because what else was I supposed to do? Everything I knew, it was all gone. All I had were a couple of spare tools from my ship.” Your eyes flash open, “But now I can’t even look at a ship without – ,” you stop, jaw clenching.

“It’s why I worry about you and why I don’t want to say goodbye and why I tried so hard not to let you see me. Why I didn’t want you to touch me, for anyone to touch me.” The words spill out of you in a torrent, like you can’t get them out quickly enough. “Anyways. Now you know.”  

Poe doesn’t have any words to offer you, nothing that can take away what happened to you. He pulls you close, tucks your head under his chin, and you lean into his shoulder, nose pressed to the fabric of his shirt.

It’s quiet for a long time, so long the sky starts to lighten, and he knows you both need to head back to base. He’s already been gone too long. The only thing keeping him from going is that fact he hasn’t been commed.

If something drastic happened, someone could always contact him.

Your fingers tighten on his before you release his hand and pull away and lumber to your feet. You open your mouth, blink at him, an amused expression pulling over your face.

You reach down and brush a hand through his hair. “You’re covered in sand.” You show him your hand, a lot thin layer of sand coating your palm.

Maybe sitting on the sand in your entirely soaked clothes hadn’t been the best idea.

He wouldn’t change it for anything.

Poe grins, “You are too. We’re about to have a reputation.”

“Okay,” you shrug. “I’m okay with that.” You don’t look at him when you say it, eyes turned toward the horizon instead.

His heart shutters, his lungs seize, at the meaning behind your words. “Oh, yeah? Y’know gossip goes around quick.”

“It’s not really gossip, is it? More like an announcement.”

He grins, takes your hand when you offer it to him and pulls himself up, smearing more of the sand down your cheek and over your neck as he does, leaning into you, pressing his nose to your cheek, because you let him. You squirm, trying to pull away. “C’mon,” he laughs, stooping for another handful of sand, “I thought you were okay with this!”

“Poe…” you warn, a smile finally jerking into place on your face as you back out of his arms and away from him. “Don’t.”

“Too late!” he starts forward, and you dash backward, crashing into the copse of trees and out of sight.

When you finally make it back to the base, both of you covered head to toe in sand, Poe finally catches you.

He doesn’t hesitate in kissing you for the first time, doesn’t mind that it’s gritty and kind of gross. You taste like D’Qar, like stars and evergreen. You tilt your head up, smooth your fingers up his arms.

Poe tilts you back into the nearest wall, not caring who sees or what they think. It’s an open secret that he’s in love with you anyways, so if any reaction was warranted, he feels it’s cheering.

Besides, what better what better way to announce yourselves?

Your fingers cup around his wrists, mouth soft and giving beneath his. A sigh slips past your lips, the breath of you against his chin.

Poe can’t help smiling, grinning, into you, knocking his forehead against yours. “This is okay, isn’t it?”

“You would have known by now if it wasn’t, Dameron,” you say. 

“I mean,” he thinks back to your words, “You’re not in pain? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You can’t, you wouldn’t,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side, eyes wide and open, those unknowable depths just a bit less grief stricken. His gaze trails down your neck, over the soft skin, the bump of scar tissue. You have sand there too. “How did you get sand inside your shirt?” Your fingers slide against his chest, inside the open buttons, fitting right in above his heart.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenching.

You trace the vein in his neck, cup his cheek, press a kiss to his nose. “Sorry,” you say. “Sorry it took so long. Sorry I ran out of your room that day.”

“It didn’t take too long,” he blinks at you. “But I will be making up for lost time.”

Poe mirrors the grin that spreads over your face.

~

“ – well, but, baby, if I’m the one that’s flying,” Poe whines. “Would that be as bad?”

You glare at him from your workbench, huge eyes staring at him from behind those magnifying glasses you use to work on delicate equipment. “Yes. It’s still in the air, isn’t it?”

“What if we have to suddenly evacuate?”

“Guess I’ll be standing out front with a blaster,” you snark. “Waving goodbye to your ship.”

Poe rolls his eyes, “You're gonna have to fly again someday. Why not with me? For a start?”

“I absolutely do not have to fly again.” You ignore the rest of his offer.

“So, you’re planning to stay on D’Qar…forever?” He pauses, “How did you get here?”

You frown at him, taking off the glasses and tossing them on the table. “By ship, and it was horrible. And so what if I am? I like it here.”

“Well,” he approaches your place at the bench, circling an arm around your shoulders, “hopefully one day this war ends.”

You don’t look at him, but you do tilt your body into his, warm and pliant against him, scrolling idly on your datapad. Poe catches the way your fingers shake a little bit. “Hopefully,” you intone, scooting over on the bench so he can sit next to you. “That doesn’t mean I have to go off planet.”

Poe decides to drop it, instead leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I’ve never crashed you know,” he says against your skin. 

You grin and glance over, “That is a lie, Poe Dameron.”

“Only a little one.” He presses a hand to either side of your head, tilts your face up. “You look pretty today.” He swipes at the line of black grease down your cheek. “Really pretty.”

“Just today?”

“Everyday. But especially today,” he presses a long, lingering kiss to your mouth, likes the way you follow his lips when he pulls away.

“Poe?” You say against his lips, and he hums back at you, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Yes?”

“I’m not going in that kriffin x-wing with you.”

He sighs, standing to pick up his helmet, “Worth a try. Are you going to come say goodbye?”

“Of course. I’ve never let BB-8 leave without telling him goodbye,” you hold out your hand to him, folding your fingers between his.

You smile and brush your thumb across the back of his knuckles.

~

Poe wears you down one night.

About the flying thing.

He doesn’t let it go, like he can’t let anything go, though he tries to be gentle with you about it.

“Baby,” he says into your skin, and you melt, and sigh, and you’re mad, because he knows what he’s doing. You’re vulnerable because he’d come back this time in a limping ship, had been regulated to the medcenter. “For me.”

His skin is warm and still bruised under your touch.

Kriff, you hate him.

You open your mouth to refuse him again, when he says, “Don’t you miss the stars?” And your throat goes tight, “I mean, you used to race. Do you remember what it was like the first time you left orbit?” His voice goes dreamy, and soft, “I do. I never wanted to land.”

You tangle your fingers into his hair, prop yourself up on one elbow. “If you could live in the stars, would you?” You tug on a curl and then settle your chin on his chest, feel the tips of his fingers draw over your bare shoulder blades, he’s tracing your scars, but you don’t mind. You close your eyes, the feeling so nice after so long without even casual touch.

“Yeah.” And you think he’ll leave it at that but of course, Poe is sickly romantic. “But only if you’d come with me.”

“Poe,” you wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut tighter. “You’re horrible. Maker, you’re just – just kriffin awful. How does anyone say no to you about anything?”

“They try,” he chuckles. “Doesn’t really work.”

“Ugh.”

“So, c’mon, do the easy thing and say yes.” You don’t answer, only look at him, at the bruise on his cheekbone, the home you’ve found in his eyes. “I’m taking this as a yes.”

You frown at him, “You’re very cruel. Asking me this after you crashed back onto this planet.”

“I’ve never crashed. It was just a hard landing.”

You scoff, poke the bruise, turn your cheek into his chest. “Uh huh, hard landing. Worst landing I’ve ever seen.”

His chest rises and falls with a few long breaths, and you think he’s finally fallen asleep when – “So…is that a yes?”

You roll your eyes and groan, “Yes, Poe, it’s a yes.”

Poe tucks his arms around you, breathes against your temple for a moment, before you find yourself on your back, his mouth trailing down your neck, along the ridge of your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you,” he says excitedly, like he really is, like it means something to him that you’d let him take you up in that stupid ship. “We don’t even have to go anywhere. Maybe you can just sit there? Get used to the cockpit again. Beebee can keep you company – ,”

“Won’t you be keeping me company?” Your throat is a bit tight, your voice strained.

He frowns down at you, ignoring your hand on his bicep, the light way you trail your fingers over his chest. “Are you okay?”

You cup his face between your hands, not really sure how to answer him. “You are unbelievable.”

He frowns, opens his mouth –

But you kiss him again, you don’t know how to tell him what it means, that he’s proud of you even though you haven’t done anything, that he stuck with you even when you tried hard not to fall for him, that he always comes back even if he sticks some hard landings.

[samstree]

Jewel

(obikin, 1.6k, established relationship, also on ao3) Anakin is on painkillers and forgets something important.

Anakin wakes up warm and comfortable, swathed in layers of blankets and wrapped in strong arms.

The world swims, swaying and tipping to one side in the distinctive way of being put on painkillers. He blinks, and blinks again.

“Mmph…” he makes a confused noise, not sure how he ended up here. Or where here is, even.

“Hey, careful.”

Oh, that is the most beautiful voice he has ever heard.

So Anakin looks up, following the source of the voice and meeting the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.

“Obi-Wan.”

He breathes the name in wonder, heart fluttering, nearly giddy. Of course, it’s Obi-Wan. He is the most beautiful man in the whole galaxy, and Anakin loves him so much even when his head is fuzzy with drugs. He’d know Obi-Wan when he barely remembers his own name. He needs to tell Obi-Wan that, how important he is, how much joy he brings into Anakin’s life, but all that comes out is—

“Obi-Wan, you are…here.”

An amused huff rumbles against Anakin’s ear, and Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle softly. It’s Anakin’s favorite look, when happiness is etched into the lines around his eyes. He reaches out to touch, only to grunt in pain.

“Don’t move just yet. Your shoulder is in quite a state, darling.”

The arms around Anakin hold him closer, securing him in place. He then looks down to find his prosthetic arm tightly bound with a sling. The pain spreads from his shoulder to his chest, dulled like a distant echo.

“But I feel fine.” He nuzzles into Obi-Wan’s neck. The world doesn’t spin as much when he rests against Obi-Wan like this.

“It’s all the painkillers you are on. They had to double the doses, with your metabolism so fast. It’s still not working well enough.” Concern seeps into Obi-Wan’s voice. “Let’s not try anything just now. I’d hate to set your bones again.”

With that, gentle fingers run through Anakin’s hair, almost putting him back to sleep with all the petting and scratching.

A glint of silver catches Anakin’s eyes.

“Oh,” he says, struggling to extract the free arm to catch Obi-Wan’s hand. “What is this?”

He frowns at the silver band resting on the fourth finger of Obi-Wan’s hand, heart growing heavy despite the confusion. He pokes at the thing, the warm metal touching the tip of his index finger.

“It’s my ring, dear one. What are you doing?”

“It’s a wedding ring.”

Anakin turns Obi-Wan’s palm, observing the band intently. His head doesn’t feel like his own, but his memory is still intact. A silver band on the fourth finger, that is Stewjoni tradition to indicate that—"

“You are…married?”

Anakin meant it as an accusation. When did Obi-Wan get married? How? Where? Why does he not know about it? But all that came out of his lips is a sad whisper, voice trembling with hurt.

He meets Obi-Wan in the eye, but only finds surprise there. It’s rather unfair, for Obi-Wan to stare at him like that, as if he’s crazy for asking the question. He’d think he deserves an answer after all this time, the love weighing on his heart, never reciprocated. He is fine with it. He really is. It’s just…

He was still hoping, against all odds.

Now that is gone too.

“Anakin, I—You see, we—”

“But you can’t be.” Anakin shakes his head at the silly idea. “Not you, never you. What was I thinking? To be married, you’d need to leave the Order. My old master would never, not the perfect Jedi.”

He adds a dry laugh in the end for good measure, sounding properly putulent now, but Obi-Wan’s eyes only soften.

“Oh, Anakin, I did leave the Order. I left so I could marry—”

“No, don’t tell me,” he interrupts in a hurry. “I don’t think I can bear it.”

It borders on torture now. Anakin knows because he has been tortured. To know the name of Obi-Wan’s beloved would destroy him. All he wants to do is get away. He cannot stay in Obi-Wan’s arms when they belong to someone else. To steal comfort that doesn’t belong to him is worse than not having it at all.

His eyes brim with tears, and he lets them fall freely.

“Anakin, it’s not like that…”

“Just don’t.” He struggles against Obi-Wan’s hold, voice wet with tears, heedless of his injured shoulder. “I don’t want to hear it. Just let me get out of here—”

“Anakin!”

It’s the desperation in Obi-Wan’s voice that stops his motion. That and the fact that Anakin can barely move his limbs, muscles so relaxed they feel like jelly. The ache returns, deep in his bones, but none of it matters when his face is cupped in gentle hands and the most beautiful eyes are right in front of him.

Anakin is powerless when Obi-Wan’s attention is on him, so close yet so far away.

“Will you listen to me? Let me explain?”

Anakin sniffles, and then answers weakly, “…alright.”

Instead of answering, Obi-Wan takes his flesh hand, threading their fingers together. His motion is so tender, so intimate that it erases every last thought from Anakin’s mind.

“It must be one of the side effects of the drugs.” For some reason, Obi-Wan is sounding too amused for the grave situation they are in. “This will be very funny when you come out of it, dearest. Believe me, I want to enjoy it, but not at your expense when your head is messed up like this. Will you look at your hand? For me, just look at your hand.”

Their hands lay on top of the blankets, skin against skin. When Anakin looks down, there are two silver bands, side by side. One on Obi-Wan’s fourth finger, the other on Anakin’s.

“Huh,” he makes a confused sound. “I’m married too?”

“Against all odds, yes. Master Yoda lost the bet to Master Windu on the big day.”

Anakin blinks, brow furrowed.

“But to who?”

He can’t imagine overcoming the heartache of Obi-Wan devoting himself to someone else, but—

“Will you look at the other side of the rings?”

With that, Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s hand again, flipping over both of their palms to show the underside of the rings. There is a small inscription etched onto each of them. The one on Obi-Wan’s is the traditional Tatooine symbol for “rain”, the pattern often carved into Japor wood and gifted to one’s beloved. Rain is the most precious thing, after all. The inscription on Anakin’s band reads “jewel” in Stewjoni.

But how does he know that? When does he know Stewjoni words?

“Oh,” Anakin hums. He feels as if he’s on the verge of a great discovery, a warmth spreading through his chest like a promise from the past. A vow, maybe. “Oh, Obi-Wan! I see!”

“Really? What do you see?”

Anakin breaks into a big smile. “I don’t know! But I’m so happy!”

Obi-Wan’s laugh is like music to Anakin’s ear. Even though he thinks he’s the one being made fun of, he still loves that laugh.

“I’m glad you are happy,” Obi-Wan says, indulgently, “but what if… I did this?”

He takes Anakin’s flesh hand, and kisses him on the fourth finger, right above the silver band, lips incredibly soft. Anakin’s mouth falls open.

“Still happy?”

Anakin nods so hard that he feels dizzy.

“How about… this?”

Obi-Wan trails a few kisses along the back of Anakin’s hand, reaching the delicate skin at his wrist. He looks up through long lashes, eyes impossibly soft, and then—

And then, he kisses Anakin right on the mouth.

The kiss is chaste and light as a feather. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second, but the world comes to a stop.

As soon as Obi-Wan breaks away, Anakin gapes again. He can only stare at the smug looks on Obi-Wan’s face. When he leans in, Anakin closes his mouth to kiss him, again, and again.

They draw out another kiss, breathing deep into it, the Force singing around them with how right it feels. Their lips meet in a rhythm so familiar, it’s like a choreographed dance. Anakin melts into the warmth of Obi-Wan’s presence, smiling when the soft beard scratches the corner of his mouth. They finally break apart, and now the world is spinning for an entirely different reason.

“Oh, my dearest.”

Anakin lets out a small gasp at the endearment. He is Obi-Wan’s—

“My beloved,” Obi-Wan murmurs, running a thumb on Anakin’s cheek, palm cradling his chin gently. “Don’t you see? There is no one else. I left the Order for you, so we could marry. I left because you are my joy, my hope, the jewel of my heart… who has forgotten all about our marriage after a few doses of painkillers. Tell me, dearest, what shall I do with you?”

All Anakin can do is stare. He stares as Obi-Wan helps him lean against the pillows and adjust his own position so they can cuddle comfortably. He stares as Obi-Wan peppers more kisses on his arm, his shoulder, hand. He stares as Obi-Wan tucks the stray curls behind his ear, with nothing but love on his face, as if the sight of Anakin brings him all the happiness he could ever ask for.

“We are married?” Anakin asks, feeling silly now but still needing the confirmation. “You… love me?”

Obi-Wan looks like his heart is breaking, just a little. “What can I do to convince you?”

Anakin perks up at that. “Kiss me again?”

“That I can do.” A smile, and Obi-Wan obliges.

They kiss until Anakin is dizzy with love, until his bones are humming with contentment. They kiss until The Force wraps around them tightly, reminding him of the familiar warmth from his memories. Of vows made while their hands intertwine, their hearts beating in tandem.

They kiss until another tear trails down Anakin’s cheek. It’s not nearly as precious as the rain drops on Tatooine, or the jewels of Stewjon, but his beloved kisses it away too.