#Also this kind of dream after what I posted tonight about my pains and such?? All other dreams were light tonight as well.

[anaesthesia-why]

had a dream where an old man who looked a bit like Lenin touched my forehead and said: "I see that... the guy destined for you MUST have blonde hair and blue eyes!" And I was like "haha I'm surely not ready for a relationship, much more with a blonde guy" and he just gave me a "kind" patronising look as if I'll change my mind soon or something.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

----------

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Hellu,

your recent post about Obi quittting the Order and becoming a senator on coruscant made feel some type of way and now I’d like to request a one-shot of Obi leaving the Order, becoming a successfull senator on coruscant and being in love with fem!reader. I dont care how you put her into the mix but I kinda imagine her as a senator as well and maybe they fell in love after he left the order and they met at a convention or something like this.

Oh and I adore your writings and am a huge fan of “conquered”-it’s awesome.

I received another request for Senator Obiwan haha and so I had to do it justice.

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2600

---

The Coruscant Spectacle

“Does he know?”, The reporter asked. You grew silent, it was easier to answer the other questions in this interrogation and make peace with the irony because of how it had all begun.

You wanted to make chief editor of the Coruscant times but you needed a story that would shatter the masses. As a woman, being caged with the daily columns of keeping the public enlightened about fashion trends made all this feel like an unattainable dream. It was, until you heard the news of his resignation. A Jedi abandoning the order and making it known to the public was, well the most scandalous thing to occur. Only that no one knew why? And as the rain engulfed you in it’s cold wrath, you knew you had found the perfect pawn for your game.

“That I love him?”, you asked softly.

“That you did not leak the article to the press.”, he corrected you. This metal room felt lonely and the hurt in your heart only caused more pain as you sat there, dejected. You had hurt the most innocent man, the man you loved, all for nothing.

“Oh that.”, you sniffed, tears where almost brimming.

“No.”, you said, suddenly having enough of all this.

“Is that all? I have a transport to catch.”, you furrowed your brows and it would seem that even the reporter pitied you. He had once been your colleague but now you were just another coruscant spectacle.

“That is all.”, he let you go and you left grabbing your things. This planet had burned you through.

---

It begun when you had disguised yourself as a lowly administrator looking to affiliate yourself with a senator, more precisely to become a part of his office. And so you did, working up the ranks, collecting pieces of information, living a dual life and it was all going well until Obiwan asked you to accompany him to a dinner with the press. He was going to make his debut at the Senate so the press wanted to know his thoughts and why he would be able to make a change.

“Why me?”, you had asked him as you matched his steps. A question out of your own curiosity when he stopped to look at you, a smile on his lips.

He took a moment to regard you. “I like your eyes, they never lie. You speak the truth and today I need it.”, he explained. His words, that moment, soon became the chink in your armour.

You stood by the sidelines, when he took to the podium to answer questions that had long been in the public’s mind, questions that had often plagued you having come to know how he truly was like. Kind and generous and compassionate. He didn’t deserve the backlash and yet he was standing here.

The Journalists began to plague him with questions that he answered patiently.

Why did you leave the order?

"I am a man who takes purpose from being of service and in many occasions I was not allowed to aid those that needed help when I was a part of the council. But I also did it for love and I will not elaborate on that."

Do you still keep to your Jedi ways, even though you live opulently as a senator?

"I do. Although now I have given myself the permission to enjoy certain comforts without the guilt. Most of what I earn is given back to the people or to fund my policies, so opulent wouldn’t be the term I would use."

How are you feeling for tonight?

He looked at the crowd when slowly he said.

"I would like my public relations manager to answer that. Most of what you see me as is all her work of art and she is the person I trust most."

The pang in your gut was too real, so real that you could feel your mind blank as you walked up to him amidst the flashing camera lights.

His smile, his hand on the small of your back ever so slightly caressing your exposed skin, his eyes looking into yours with utmost belief while you …

You cleared your throat and smiled to the expectant crowd. But as you were collecting your thoughts, he leaned in close, almost as if he was about to hug you, his lips touched the edge of your ear, “Tell me you believe in me.”, he whispered and you knew this day was all that you were going to remember your whole life because the months spent working beside him and with him had caused you to fall in love with him. You had abandoned the article, you had begun to live this life, all because of him.

“I haven’t crafted an image for him. He doesn’t live a dual life. What you see is exactly who he is. His love for the people and for justice is so pure you cannot help but choose his side. I believe in him and that tonight will sediment his victory in the Senate. I only used this position to get you all to see him, like I do.”, somewhere in between that you had turned to him as you spoke those words. His eyes beamed and with his golden hair he looked radiant.

Could he too feel the depth of your feelings?

The truth that sunk in was that the fraud in all this was you. So the moment you spoke the truth, you stepped away from him and left.

Months had passed and it grew exceedingly difficult to continue in this position, to work closely with him because that meant you had to see him and talk to him and notice his longing eyes and soft touches or his gentle voice asking you time and time again to join him for dinner. But you just couldn’t. You could not break his heart or take his story and run it to the ground. His fame and acclaim only grew, making it clear that you were not the woman for him. He deserved so much more.

But the day you had finished the article was also the day his bill for the clone troopers to have their only health cover and the ability to work after their service as soldiers was passed causing for a celebration. Just when you were about to escape he had somehow found you, taking your hand in his, he slipped away from his own party to his opulent suite.

“Obiwan, you should with our there, celebrating.”, you told him as he closed the door behind him. He looked rather frustrated as he walked away further. His blue shirt matched the colour of his eyes as it stretched and moved in alignment with his muscles on his back. He popped the top few buttons and rolled back his sleeves.

“Something’s wrong and you will not tell me.”, he cut straight to it. He was a negotiator, there was nothing that escaped his grasp.

His hair was set in place but as he ran his finger through it in an urgency, he looked even more distraught.

“Your campaign is a success.”, you put forth the truth to which he shook his head.

“No. Not the campaign. Us.”, he looked you in the eye as he said and the realization that there was no more room to hide became apparent.

“I didn’t know we were an item.”, you looked away.

“Don’t change the subject. That day, the press event. Why did you run?”, he drew closer but you moved away to the large living room that had an incredibly long sofa set and a warm fire.

“I had other things to attend to.”, you lied as you took a seat.

He sat next to you with enough space between you both for your pinky fingers to touch and the moment it did, it felt electric.

“I still know the ways of the Force.”, he turned to you.

“I know when you lie to me.”, he said softly.

“Obiwan.”, you whisper as a way to think of an escape but all you felt was his hand covering yours, not letting you go.

“Tell me the truth.”, he said with a noble authority.

“Everything I said then was true.”, you gave in, your heart hammering within your chest.

“Then why did you run?”, he asked again, leaning closer.

“Because I was scared.”, you said quietly and he stilled.

“Of my love for you.”, you admitted when his lips parted in the softest gasp.

“But you deserve someone better.”, you got up and he groaned.

“You deserve so much more.”, you took a step back and he glared at you.

“Don’t you think about it.”, he warned.

You picked up your pace.

“Stop running away.”, he demanded as you ran down the hallway, you didn’t have to look back to know he was chasing after you. To your surprise his droid blocked the door and so your eyes searched for any other possible exits. Having found nothing else, you  ran into the colonnade that led to his garden.

“How is it that after everything, you cannot seem to understand that I have fallen for you?”, he asked catching his breath, searching for you.

You couldn’t believe it, that all this you were feeling was mutual.

“You cannot lie to me.”, he voice grew closer.

“I can hear it in the change of your heartbeat. The soft warmth of your admiration or the truth in your words. I know you feel the same. So why do you put me through this agony?”, he demanded and you couldn’t tell him the reason. It would only hurt him.

“I do not want to hurt you, Obiwan. Can you not understand?”, you ask, growing anxious that he was going to spot you and just when you moved to run further, his hand looped around your waist pinning you to his chest. You could feel his solid form behind you as he breathed in deeply with his nose resting on the length of your neck, finally at peace that he had found you and you too had given up being out of breath.

“I lost my past love because my order failed to save her. I chose to be a senator only because I could not cage my heart again. I wanted to appreciate the relationships I had in my life. I wanted to be a brother to Anakin and not his master. I couldn’t let the council accuse Ahsoka falsely. I wanted a life where I would not be condemned for those actions. And by doing so I had fallen in love again. With you. Now you deny me of it.”, his breath was hot against your skin as he embraced you.

“I do not wish to deny you of it.”, you turned to him, your face construed in pain. Because you loved him, oh how wrong he had been to believe that you were keeping it away from him.

He looked down at you, in the moonlight, his skin glimmered and he looked magnificent, like he was actually a ruler of the glistening night. You gave into the beauty of the moment and thoughts that were resounding loudly in your mind. You touched his cheek first, your thumb grazed the top of his lip and you were certain he had held his breath.

“Trust me with the keys to your heart.”, he whispered and that was all it took for you to throw open the doors of your heart to him. His hands pulled you closer as his lips found yours and for a moment that felt like a lifetime everything in the universe was right. Your back touched the column as his hand slipped under your jaw to tilt your face up to him, to kiss you till he was breathless, till you forgot about the article.

You were going to delete it, right after this, it was going to be erased. But his comms pinged and he stepped away from you. His hair a mess, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alive like the sea. His face was glowing from all the happiness and you felt the same way too.

He looked at the message and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is something the matter?”, you asked to which he turned his soft gaze back to you.

“Nothing. My presence has been requested to look at a possible leak.”, he responded.

“Do you want me to accompany you?”, you asked to which he smiled.

“No. Stay the night.”, he grinned as he kissed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Come back soon.”, you mumbled into his chest.

He grumbled as though he didn’t want to leave so instead he placed a quick peck on your lips.

“It won’t take long.”, he said as he ran down the hallway, while you chuckled watching his retreating form. But you didn’t know that was the moment your whole world was about to be shattered.

Because when he returned, he wasn’t smiling and instead armed guards had come to take you away. Someone had leaked your article and the last thing you saw was him, seated alone on the couch, heartbroken as you were being taken away.

---

Now you were here, in the long line for a transport ship to the outer rim and a few other neutral planets. With only a small bag in your hand, you were ready to say goodbye to this wretched planet and it’s politics. The only longing in your heart was to tell him you were truly sorry and that all your love was in fact very real.

“You were his secretary weren’t you?”, some droid asked that stood behind you.

“The one that wrote this article.”, it continued but you didn’t pay it any heed.

“Leave the lady alone.”, said another voice and you were grateful for it.

“But why are you running away?”, the droid pressed further to ask and it had annoyed you. You turn to confront it.

“I am not running away. I love him too much to linger and see the pain I had caused.”, you jab your finger on its chest only to see it was a man wearing a robe, his head under a hood. But the shape of his lips and the small grin was enough to know who he was.

“What are you doing here, Obiwan?”, you whispered.

“Stopping you from leaving.”, he took your bag from your hands.

“Why?”, you stood in shock.

“I read it. The article. If it was a love letter that you wanted to publish all do was to just tell me.”, he chuckled.

“I don’t understand. You were heartbroken that night. I had caused pain once again in your life.”, you argued to which he shook his head softly and cupped your cheek.

“No I was sad that this system too did not let me protect the woman I loved.”, he drew you closer and stepped out of the line, you followed him.

“The senate wanted an investigation and I had to put you through it. I was there for all your briefings. I heard all your answers and never once did you say you did it to hurt me.”, he explained and your eyes grew wide taking in all this information.

“I believe you.”, he said finally and all you could do was hug him and let the tears fall.

“Now.”, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t run off.”, he tilted your chin so he could see your face. The tear stains where fresh down your cheek, so he wiped them away.

“Never.”, you responded.

The headlines could say whatever it wanted to say. But the truth was right here, in the moment, as he held you close and took you home.

[who-knows130]

I have finally finished my rewrite. So I'm going to post the first chapter here and see if how it goes.

Chapter 1

I looked down at my hands. Blood stained the gloves. I'd been a part of an elite group, called the Jury Of Nine for about 3 years now. Working for my boss, the High Priest of O’Khasis, Zane Ro’meave. I'd trained in the Guard academy from when I was 11, to when my class year graduated, 19. I was exactly supposed to be an assassin for a tyrant's son. I wanted to be a Guard for the people who couldn't protect themselves. That was inspired by my younger brother, Davison.

Davi, was a boy who wasn't the strongest. At least to my family's standards. Many people bullied him when we were younger. My rage towards those bullies…was frightening behavior in a child. After an accident including bandits and my brother….I couldn't stand idle. Pure power only gets you so far. Skill gets you further. I was either blessed or cursed with the ability of enhanced strength and speed. Also a strange knack for being able to predict certain events. Not all, most appear in my dreams.

Many have tried to decipher my abilities. They didn't fit the norm of Magicks or Witchcraft. Magicks: Being able to have one ability, Example:creating barriers. The ability is particularly strong, but ultimately, one ability.

Witchcraft: Casting spells and making potions. In witchcraft you can do multiple things, in right hands Witchcraft can be more powerful than most Magicks. But typically, it's on a weaker level. Witchcraft is not just witches, but also Wizards and Warlocks.

I do not fit the querita of either Magicks or Witchcraft. I don't know what I am, well I'm human but in the magical sense. I let out a sigh and I started walking away from the scene of the crime. It was the dead of night.

“Hey! You there! Get back here! lady! You killed the head guard!”

I turned to face the interrupting people. Not even caring to pull out my sword at the moment. It was just an Everdale Guard. Probably some rookie, on their first night shift.

“Just your luck, I'm feeling generous tonight. You must be lucky in Irena’s eyes.”

I jumped up, pulled out my sword and sliced off a tree branch. I landed on my feet, as the sound of cracking was heard. The tree branch fell on the Everdale Guard. I heard cries of pain. If this would have been any sort of other situation, I would have helped. Sadly, I was in a situation of needing to help myself. I let out another sigh and went on my merry way. It would be a long way back to O’Khasis. I hopped onto the horse I would be riding back on. It would Forest for a while. I would have to pass by, The ruins of Falcon Claw village, then Nahakra village, to make it to The O'Khasis Gates. O’Khasis was the power house village. More like the kingdom of Ru’uan. The region of Ru'uan, the region I've lived in all my life. Ru’uan, for the most part, was very forestry. Except for some other places, such as my home village. Which had many hills.

The three power houses of Ru’uan were, O’Khasis, Scaleswind and Everdale. O’Khasis being the main one, at least in value of the economy. Scaleswind was the sweetheart of Ru’uan. Since it's said to be the birthplace of…Lady Irene….Lady Irene, a light amongst human kind. Lady Irene, was known for her healing abilities and good demeanor. Lady Irene was the leader of the Divine warriors and was the one who destroyed the monarchy in Ru’uan. Establishing the Lordships. Being a Lord of a village means you are the leader. There isn't a set leader for the whole region of Ru’uan.

Many people worship Lady Irene. Even making a religion. The faith of Lady Irene was the most popular religion in Ru'uan. Even my own family followed it. I didn't follow it exactly, but it's still a part of me. As well as other parts…parts I didn't appreciate. Such as my father. The man who wasn't kind to my siblings and I. Trinity, Hector, Willow, and of course Davison, our father was very hard on us. Trinity was the oldest, I can't exactly say much, since I am not the first born. I don't know all of her difficulties, but I do love Trinity. Despite how much we argued in younger days. I am close to her now, or at least as close as we can be. Hector and I, our relationship is complicated. One of my earliest memories was not a kind one. My brother had been trying to practice with a sword, since my father had been pressuring him to go to the Guard Academy. I had wanted to play with him. So I went up to him and bothered him. Out of annoyance, he slashed my nose. It left a nasty scar, and a quiet relationship. I couldn't remember a-lot of it, yet the unease is intense. After Hector did that to me, my father practically hated him. I was sort of his golden child. Mainly because of my abilities.

My Father, he always wanted to be a guard. Like my grandpa was, and my dad's brothers were as well. He was kicked out of the Guard academy though. When I started going to the Guard academy, my father was overjoyed. Practically living through me and pressuring me to be number 1 at everything. He got what he wanted. I graduated top of my class. I'm proud in a sense. Yet, I'm practically skilled in many things. Singing, dancing, my handwriting is too good for someone who lived on a farm, Pottery, you name it. Not distinctly well at stitching though, which can be inconvenient. My father was a forceful man. At least in my eyes. I'm happy to get away from him. My relationship with my mom is another difficult thing, I don't talk to her often. I can't talk to most of my family often, there's a clear line of distance when it comes to my mother and I.

I may need to make camp soon. It is the dead of night. It's not smart to travel when it's dark as it is. I got a further distance from Everdale then set up camp. The campfire crackled. The little sparks going into the night sky. I looked up, looking up at the stars. The night sky was a beautiful thing. Many people don't appreciate it. I closed my eyes. Sleep was a rare thing to come around sometimes. In this world of politics, war, and darkness, sleep could be considered an afterthought. I wasn't always directly involved in those three things, but I am a part of it. My morals are destroyed, something I wouldn't do, is always done by the people around me. The whole reason I am in the Jury was because Zane Ro’meave. He'd threatened the people I cared for. Even with that, I don't know how much longer I can be an asset for his game. I'm not necessarily a good person either. No one is, but Zane’s actions….I can't be loyal just for the sake of my family. At least not anymore. Two years ago, it was a different story….

I made it into O’Khasis. The walls were big and made out of stone. As well as the floors. The buildings were huge. O’Khasis was rich and they showed it. O’Khasis, as I said before. Was a village of the Economy. They had many allies within Ru’uan and out of it. O’Khasis made Ru’uan a great trading place. Our greatest trading partners being Sul’uan and Mal’sar. After the war between Wyverns and the old king came to an end…. O'Khasis stood as a product of the old king’s evil. Esmund the protector, one of the divine warriors, took over O’Khasis as the first Lord. He made it so O’Khasis would continue on as a shield of light. Esmund started the Ro’meave line. The line that controls O’Khasis today. A few years ago, 4 if I'm correct. The first born, Garroth Felipe Ro’meave, died. There are many rumors on how the first born died. The only thing recovered from the death was the clothes covered in blood. No body was found…..

Garroth wasn't the only Ro’meave sibling. Zane Ro’meave, his younger brother. Zane was a…fun person. Zane, being the 2nd born, would most likely never inherit the Lord title. So he worked towards becoming the High Priest of O'Khasis and leader of the Jury Of Nine. Zane, unlike the Priest title, wasn't holy. He commonly hurt people, killed. Whatever it took to get what he wanted, he'd do it. Zane's status was something almost no one can fight against.

Vylad Archie Ro’meave, he died a long while back. He must have been 15. Vylad is the youngest Ro’meave and has been involved in many scandalous rumors. Not him specifically, more of his existence. It's been rumored, Lady Zianna(Mother to the Ro’meave brothers and wife to Lord Garte of O’Khasis) cheated and Vylad is a result. It's only a rumor, but Vylad didn't look like his siblings. Vylad was known to be on the tanner side, have brown hair and green eyes. While Zane had Black hair, Pale skin and sky blue eyes. Garroth had Blonde hair and Blue eyes. He was more on the tan side compared to Zane but not as much as Vylad. Garroth and Zane looks from their Mother and Father. Lady Zianna has black hair, and Lord Garte has blonde hair.

I made my way towards Zane's house. After all, I needed to report my mission’s success. Knock, knock, knock. One of the servants answered the door. I walked into the house. The lavish house of The High Priest Of O'Khasis. Red carpet, dark oak flooring. Zane's house was quite massive, but I knew my way for the most part. Since he hosts the Jury Meetings here.

“Come in.”

“Your highness, I am here to report my mission.”

“Hm, how did that go?”

“The Guard is gone and dead.”

“Excellent work, Everdale Guards need to learn to keep their tongue in their disgusting mouths around powerful people.”

“Agreed.”

Zane’s eyes sharply looked at me. You couldn't tell most of his expression from the mask he wore(which covered up to his nose). Many say blue eyes are the eyes that stare into the soul. The eyes that are wide and barely blink. That's not the case for everyone, Zane's eyes were eerie and spine-chilling. People described my blue eyes as blank and haunting….

“You're slipping.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your loyalty to me. Do you not fear your family's death? I wouldn't mind putting a few more bodies in the ground.”

“I am not slipping…just tired from the trip…Simple as that.”

“Very well, you are excused to go to Your home. A jury meeting is in a few weeks.”

I nodded and took my leave. I was happy to be home. It wasn't home, it was a house. A home is where your heart is. O’Khasis is not where my heart is. My original village is where it is. I am forgetting something. Specifically my job, being a part of The Jury Of Nine. The Jury Of Nine is an elite guard group created by Xavier Spada over 900 years ago. Xavier Spada also created the Oath Of the Guard, which was inspired by The Art Of the sword. Xavier, created the Jury for Irene. Sense Irene was still around at that point. He created it after the old king's rule was over and peace was brought to Ru’uan. Many sought Irene's hand in marriage, but also to assassinate her, to glorify her, so on so forth. Xavier created the Jury to anyone who dared speak with Irene with ill or pure intent. Later on creating the Oath to protect the innocent…Xavier Spada was known as the admirer….I look up to Xavier quite a-bit. Sadly his work has twisted over the centuries…especially the Jury.

How your title in the jury is deciphered is usually by what weapon they use, the materials, personality, and how they use their weapon.

• Janus the Silver Death, one of the strongest members of the jury. All and any person in his family is dead. He wields a blaze broadsword, and a frost broadsword. His hair was silver, and his eyes were blue. His skin was tan, and battered. His left eye is closed and has a scar on it. Janus does most of Zane's bidding. And joyfully, since it's one of the only things that gave him purpose. Janus despite all of this all. Has awful dad jokes. Not even kidding. I'll be like:

“Janus, I'm Hungry.”

“Hi hungry, I'm Janus.”

• Katelyn the fire fist. The member who fought with flame resistant gauntlets. Katelyn was known to have 5 brothers and a Father. She had olive skin and powdered blue hair and sky blue eyes. Katelyn has many scars on her body. Katelyn doesn't particularly enjoy working for Zane but she doesn't have any other choice. She's a well mannered person and serious. Yet was still down to earth…

• Jefferson, or Jeffory the Golden Heart. As his name says, his heart is like gold. His weapon of choice is a Golden Glaive. His skin tone was tan, his hair looked golden brown. Jeffory was one of the eldest out of us. Being in his 30s. He was married until his wife passed on. Jeffory has a daughter named Abby. His relationship with Zane, not a kind one, but whatever pays the pills…for his family…

• Ivy the Venom Scythe, her words are spoken with venom in mind. Ivy is an intense woman. Not respectful. Doesn't have a sense of loyalty or morality. She tortures birds. She uses a Scythe injected with poison to kill the ones she's assigned to. If the sharp stabbing doesn't kill the person, the poison will….

• Lillian the Silver Scythe, calm and collected person. Don't let that fool you though. Lillian has a dark side. She's a loyal dog when it comes to Zane. One of his puppets. She's manipulative. Lillian wields a silver scythe and commonly works as a spy.

• Teony the Shimmering spear……Teony….fought with a spear….and was quite loving at her core….she was smart, one of the smartest out of us….but….a few months ago….was claimed dead….

• Ivan the haunting, the newest Jury member. He doesn't exactly have a set weapon, he has a staff. Ivan is a warlock. His whole personality is quite creepy. He's on the closer side with Zane. No one has really warmed up to him yet……

• Lastly, Me. How would I describe myself exactly? At least when I was on the jury. I wield a sword. A sword that's close to the color redwood. The most common mission I go on is….murder ones…my situation with Zane. Isn't a kind one. If I could kill him. I would. In a duel I usually go for the defense route. Offense isn't my thing.

I've gotten my jury title name from my silent persona, and how I'm known for my killing…

I am Lea the Silent Killer

[raysofcrosby]

With all of this reveal about Matthew's fractured sternum and how he still played I've been wondering how Caroline would react to it. Would she let him play? Stand her ground and tell him not to? Would she try to get him to sit out? I miss the WLTAY universe so much! I've reread it already since playoffs started. I hope to see more bonus chapters if you're still wanting to write them!

so, for wltay-verse sake– let's pretend that this situation took place later on down the line ((lets say its the era w both ethan is 13 and scarlett is 2 and care tech is prego w payson but they don't know it yet)) so ethan and scar are the only kids and it's the 2028-2029 season, bc obvi the story takes place during the 2023-2024 szn<3333

BUT OHHHH 100% care would not be for him playing!!!!

obvi its important to know that care is v much well aware matt is a grown man and can make his own decisions, but she is also not afraid to voice her opinions as well when it comes to suggesting what he should do about the injury bc yk obviously she knows there’s chances of injuries w hockey, so when he gets injured and has to get checked out, she’s not too worried, but the moment it was discovered just how serious his injury was ((bc HELLO a fractured sternum!!!!!)) she would immediately be on the side of caution and tell him maybe he should sit out.

like when they're back at home and the kids are all in bed and yk he played it cool w ethan and scarlett so it didn't worry them, but when it's just him and care, she's sitting there in bed watching him kind of slowly get into bed and she's all "okay, tell me what they really said" bc she knows obvi he played it safe for the kids.

and he tells her that yk "they said i probably fractured my sternum" and she's all "probably?" bc is sus of how he said it and she knows they took him to the hospital after they saw him after the game ((aka he told ethan he just had to yk do some press stuff so he wouldn't worry)) and yk he finished getting into bed and he's all "okay, so i fractured my sternum." and yk care's all just in shock and concerned obviously and he kinda cuts it off w a "they think it happened when i hit the ice after that hit from kolesar. but i'm fine, i promise–"

and ma'am is all like "fine?! matthew you're walking like you're 70 and in need of a double hip replacement," and she kind of motions at him all "you can barely breathe without looking like you're in pain."

"it's fine, care. they gave me some 800 ibuprofen for tonight, and i should be better in the morning."

OFC this is an answer that ms caroline tkachuk DOES NOT appreciate bc she follows up w a "its a broken bone, matthew. ibuprofen doesnt fix a broken bone. you can't play like this."

to which matt's obviously all up in arms bc "it's the stanley cup finals, care! it's at most three more games of my life. who knows when it'll happen again?"

"it happened before, matthew. five season ago–"

"exactly, care! five seasons! it took me five seasons to get to another stanley cup!"

and yk they're not exactly fighting, but it's not calm either yk?? and care's not trying to parent him or keep him from his dream, but she also knows he's in full on hockey tough guy mode and will do anything without letting something stop him from reaching the stanley cup again yk???

so not wanting to fight anymore, she says "fine, we'll see how you feel in the morning," and they go to sleep.

so obvi it's next morning, matt gets up for morning skate when care's up w scar and he gets back by the time everyone is awake and yk he's still trying to play it cool but its considerably hard for him since he woke up more sore this morning. and when its time to wake him up from post game nap to eat yk, ethan asks if him and scar can go do it ((and since fam is in town, we'll keep it true and say brady was staying over and helped matt out of bed)) but care says "yk what, let's let beebee do it and you guys can help me set up dad's plate"

so brady goes up and care doesn't really hear a lot of movement upstairs, so she tells ethan to watch scarlett and she'll be right back– so she goes upstairs and actively sees brady trying to help matt stand up out of their bed and ma'am immediately is like "absolutely not, you're not playing tonight"

and matt's all "care, i was just laying down too long" ((while he's yk, still pushing through trying to breathe normally))

"that's bullshit and you know it matthew. look me in my face and tell me that brady didn't have to help you sit up in bed, that it doesn't hurt you to breathe or that you can stand yourself up right now. if you can do that and wholeheartedly believe it's the truth, then i'll drop it."

and yk mans already knows she's going to see through him, but he still tries to play it tough and yk kinda moves brady aside and prepares to push himself out of bed. he does it but obvi it's super shaky at first and brady and caroline are kinda standing closeby in case he falls and he stands himself up but is kinda out of breath and hurting when he's standing there and he's all "i'm telling them im playing tonight, care. i can't let this opportunity pass me up, who knows how many good years i have left." ((cue the male dramatics lmfao))

in true caroline fashion, ma'am is not thrilled and is all "i don't think you understand how serious this injury is matthew. you play tonight and take another bad hit or bad fall and you could further hurt yourself matthew and your career could be over. are you ready to even think about that possibility at 31???"

and ofc matthew's all "i'll be fine, care. i've been playing this game a long time, i can still play tough and be safe."

SO PULLING THE MOM CARD, CARE'S ALL "would you let ethan do it??"

"that's not fair."

"of course its fair. if ethan had the very same injury as you and you, as the adult knew the repercussions of what would happen if he played, would you let him play?"

POOR BRADY IS JUST STANDING THERE LIKE 👁👄👁 "maybe we should just let him go see the trainers–"

and care's all "shut it brady" and turns to matthew like "well, would you? would you let your son risk his life and career for three games?"

so they just kind of stand there staring at each other and matt's finally like "no," and before care can say anything he adds on a "but i'm not ethan."

to which care adds a "but you are to your mom and dad"

ANYWHO ITS LIKE ARUING W A BRICK WALL AND CARE KNOWS THAT ITS NOT GETTING ANYWHERE SO SHE JUST HUFFS AND IS ALL LIKE "fine, if you want to play tonight matthew, then do it."

and yk they go on w the day and matthew plays game four ((much to caroline's dismay)) and ofc she and the kids go to the game and yk care is v much not thrilled about him playing and everytime hes on the ice she's panicked and at the end of the night when they're home and getting ready for bed there might be a slight silence between them bc obvi she's pissed but yk they do the kids nighttime routine and then go to their room

but she helps him shower ((bc showering after the game was too painful)) and get ready for bed and she's helping him into bed and once he's comfy and she makes sure hes got everything he needs, she gets on her side and even her just getting into the bed kind of moves him and obvi that hurts and so she's just worried the whole time and when they're settling down into bed matt kind of moves his arm out to her so he can hold her hand and she does

and he's all "you were right, i shouldn't have played tonight. some of the guys had to help me get my gear on and i should've known that was a sign for me not to play...but care, it's–"

"i know...it's the stanley cup finals. and im sorry if it seemed like i was dismissing you, but matthew...this is a v scary and serious injury." and she kinda hears him yk trying not to breathe too hard or anything bc yk pain and she's like "hurt?"

"like hell," and she can see hes super emotional bc they both kind of know that that was most likely his last game of the season bc of how much pain hes in and so shes just being super comforting w him and soft night yk

[lord-of-the-harvest]

Pleasure, Pain, and Power Chapter 1

Intro

Summary: Fox has been looking for a new pet since his last one met a nasty fate on stream, and has his eyes on a fellow “industry worker” Jasmine. She’s a cosplaying, gore-watching streamer who might just be able to hold the horrifying title of “Fox’s Pet”.

Contains: mention of hentai, sex work, animated gore, and human trafficking

MDNI

“Oh my GOD!!”

Jasmine covered her face in disgust at the video she was watching, cartoonishly peeking through her fingers. These over the top reactions are what her people paid for, and she would make sure they’d get it. Jasmine had found her niche when it came to streaming, “cute girl reacts to disturbing content”. She could handle it, she had been desensitized to this stuff for years, but that’s not what they wanted. Her viewers wanted their sweet slutty streamer decked out in various cosplays to shudder, gag, and scream at what was on her screen. Viewers could send in recommendations, or pay extra to guarantee their video would be seen. Usually it was weird hentai, viral shock videos, or porn involving the worst excrement of the human body. Tonight was no different, some poor hentai girl being ravaged by tentacles, only to be ripped apart at her climax.

“Omg guys, I’m actually gonna vomit after that. That video came from f33t_fucker69, go to hell f33t_fucker69 ew!!”

All an act. She squirmed in her chair, pitched her voice up as high as it’d go, trying to sell it as best she could. 

“That’s all for tonight guys.” She said stifling a fake gag. “I’ll see you all again for the next stream Thursday night! Stay horny pervs~”

With a wink, she closed out of the stream and opened her phone. Jasmine enjoyed it, she really did. So much creativity went into her work, and the payoff was incredibly rewarding and encouraging. She managed to make some friends with fellow streamers, and even a few customers. One in particular had been incredibly generous. That’s who she was texting. She didn’t know much about him, other than his age, a fake name, a plethora of kinks, and a few of his favorite animes. He had sent her the very outfit she was wearing that night, it was a black latex one piece, with a few magical girl elements included. She went over to her long mirror, snapped a couple pics in it, and relaxed back into her chair. She sent the more provocative pictures to her favorite customer, thanking him for the outfit; and posted the rest to Twitter, thanking those who joined the stream. Although she loved this line of work, the screen time got to her, so it was time to unplug for a minute and take a shower. 

After she returned, robe on and hair wrapped up in a towel, she caved and looked at her phone again. On it displayed multiple Twitter notifications, a text from her friend asking about the stream, and a message from “Fox”.

“You look delicious darling, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you on your little stream. Tell me, have you thought more about my offer?”

Jasmine threw her head back, scrunching her face, and sighed. One of her most important rules was she never met up with clients, no matter what they promised her. She knew too many girls with too many bad experiences. But, something about “Fox” was different. Sure he was perverted, older, and every other sentence of his was likely a lie, but he was still so different to her regular viewers. He was charming, understanding, and would even check up on her when she seemed off. Not to mention he clearly has the cash to back up his word, he sends her gifts and tips sometimes just for talking to him. The first time he asked her out came with a $100 deposit right into her CashApp. He was only asking for dinner at a fancy, expensive restaurant she could only dream of going to. The kind of place where you go to look at the menu and none of the options come with a price tag. He also offered her enough cash to pay off her next two months rent just for showing up. Fine.

“Hi Fox!! I’m so glad you loved my stream! You’ve made me such a generous offer, and after much consideration, I’d love to accept! I’ll meet you there Wednesday night at 8:30!🧡”

‘I’m going to hate myself Wednesday night aren’t I?’ She threw her phone on her desk and fell into bed. Falling asleep exhausted, but hopeful for what the week will bring.

Fox

Finally she agreed. 

Fox had been in the market for a new personal pet for the past few months, as his last one met a nasty fate on stream after they severely disobeyed him. After months of scouring the internet and watching countless streamers, he finally decided on Jasmine. He commissioned her for dozens of videos, photo sets, and sexting sessions, all of which to get a glimpse of how well she could hold the title of “Fox’s Pet”. He had told her to be as “authentic as possible” for him, since he knows better than anyone how important it can be to put on a mask for your viewers.

The two really did get close, both of them sharing intimate and personal details about themselves. They often bonded over sharing details on their personal lives and work. Fox would share stories about the idiots at work he had to deal with, and Jasmine would share stories of school and her viewers. Of course they’d keep a level of anonymity expected for their relationship. Jasmine never shared where she went to school, and Fox never shared what he did for work. Fox had never gone for a fellow sex worker before, and he wondered how different it would make her from the rest. He chuckled to himself at the thought,

“Well if she doesn’t work out as my pet, at least I know she’ll make a dazzling co-star!”

(This is my first time writing guys, go easy on me! I have more chapters written and planned, so stay tuned!)

[spaceytingz]

Rank the entire emotion era from best to worst. Reasons why are optional but welcomed.

OKAYYYY lemme queue up the two projects

edit: fuck you hoe this was too hard

and the stupid tumblr post writer crashed twice so i'm rewriting this

anyways:

#1. Your Type

I'm kinda lost for words here. This song is screaming cause you've held everything in for too long. Glitter and sweat under neon lights. Tears and lipgloss mixing. Dancing on your own. Stars and galaxies and time. Time. Someone once said that she sings this song as if she'd singlehandedly create time in order to make the impossible possible and I think that's one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. Helps that it's true too. I've always been attracted to desperation in songs and there's something in Your Type's depiction of pain and inadequateness that I haven't heard anywhere else. She has accepted her situation but she still delivers her confession, be it to her actual object of affection, to us, or to herself, it doesn't really matter. It's the act of storytelling, laying her heart out in a melodramatic and theatrical way that I really enjoy. Carly's feelings are always more grand and important than their target and this is best shown in this song. Nothing I could ever say would be enough to describe this song. I'd make time for it.

Favorite moment: My favorite lyrics of all time: "I bet she acts so perfectly. You probably eat up every word she says. And if you ever think of me, I bet I'm just a flicker in your head."

#2. Fever

As you can probably tell, I really enjoy Carly being hurt on songs. This is one of very few songs where Carly expresses anger - and I can't get enough of it. Her switching between vulnerability and vengeance is incredibly satisfying to me, the storytelling is great and I really like the melodrama of it all - stealing his bike, feeling the fever forever. It's these kinds of extremes that make life fun, devastating and worth living, and they're what makes her music forever amazing to me.

Favorite moment: Honestly, everything, but if I had to pick one, it would be the "don't break my heart tonight" bridge.

#3. Cry

It's Cry. My favorite genre of Carly songs, as you've probably guessed by the top 2 is devastating songs with sunny/kinda positive production, and Cry is no exception. There's just something about this song that makes it timeless. It's the beautiful devastation to Fever's frustrated mania. It seems otherworldly in a way the other songs on Side B are not.

Favorite moment: WAKE UP WITHOUT YOU! WAKE UP WITHOUT YOU! WAKE UP WITHOUT YOU! I WAKE UP WITHOUT YOU, BOY!

#4. Let's Get Lost

I could write about how much I enjoy every single aspect of this song - the bombastic chorus, the giddiness of it all, the vulnerability similar to Your Type, but I think there's a more interesting aspect to it. Let's Get Lost is ultimately a song about fantasy. Carly has suffered and kept her heart hidden until now - her desires and pining have taken ahold of her as she describes her ultimate wish. However, we're not sure if her proposition gets accepted or if she even delivers it - but it doesn't matter. The act of wanting and dreaming is greater and better than anything that could or could not happen. The way she describes it makes it seem like it's destiny - it lives outside of time, happening and not happening all the time. In a sense, the emotion of her anticipating it is greater than anything else and it allows her to live through the catharsis of experiencing it forever. Of course, despite it all, this song would not be so high if it wasn't for her delivery. Everything about this song is giddy, I once read that Carly has a tendency to describe ordinary acts as sinful and tempting and I think it really works in her favor. She's after the Forbidden Fruit, and even if it's not so forbidden, she can convince us it is (also it's a quite good queer metaphor).

Favorite moment: "I was always shy and careful, always sure that you would never look at me. Never wanted to discourage anything your eyes encouraged silently."

#5. Cut To The Feeling

I honestly don't know where to place this one, but this song is a rare example of one of an artist's best songs making it big. Cut To The Feeling is the best song to describe Carly as an artist - it's joyful, euphoric, makes you wanna fly and live forever through your emotions and what-could-have-beens. Blue and pink skies, rush of energy, the sun. Cut To The Feeling.

Favorite moment: Every single part.

#6. The One

This is the EPITOME of pining. The self-doubt, the succumbing to her desires, the thinly veiled need to stay in control..... Everything about this song is IMMACULATE. Carly fighting against her own feelings is truly a sight to behold and considering I really enjoy themes of fighting against love and your true nature (see Happy Not Knowing being my fourth most streamed song of all time), yeah, this is a masterpiece. (also a good queer metaphor)

Favorite moment: Romance is fine, pour me some wine, tell me it's just for the fun of it. Thoughts in your eyes, hard to deny, but I don't want love, don't want none. of. it. Also the muffled bridge that builds up to the final chorus my GOD! also the ad-libs in the final chorus. also her whole career.

#7. Making The Most Of The Night

I know, I know, she barely wrote on it, I don't care. Making The Most Of The Night is so perfectly crafted, it's insane. The instrumentals are mesmerizing, her energy is unbeatable and I'm a sucker for an explosive chorus. Everything about the song works to its full potential (side note, it's insane how bad the Sia demo is compared to the final product). Running through red lights on empty city streets underneath the full moon, hot summer night air ruffling your hair, joy and freedom, youth. That's making the most of the night.

Favorite moment: Final chorus although I really REALLY enjoy hearing that intro. It just unlocks something in me. OH ALSO THE aah-aaahs, they are INSANE I LOVE THEM

#8. I Didn't Just Come Here To Dance

Once I said that if Carly only ever made and released this song, I'd still worship her the same and that still rings true. It's honestly such an insanely good song, I don't even know what to say about it. Everything about it is addicting, the beat, the NO NA NA NA NA NO NAA NAA that i quote every day, the "I only came here for you (you)" moments. It's just so fun and the perfect club song. Every lyric is perfect, an incredible mix of flirtation, pining and confidence.

Favorite part: I only came here for you (you) and the final chorus.

#9. Store

The song that started it all. Honestly, this is a peak Aquarius song - tongue in cheek, emotionally avoidant in a whimsical way and most of all - super fun. Aside from Store being funny as fuck, I unironically find it super beautiful. The verses are angelic as she makes up excuses, the pre-chorus is catchy as she makes her way out the door and the chorus is probably one of her most fun despite its repetitive lyrics (which i adore). Also the BRIDGE. The whole song honestly has the energy of her giggling as she sneaks out of her boyfriend's life forever and I really really enjoy that.

Favorite part: ALRIGHT! If it's alright with you. I just wanna say I'm sorry, I just wanna say I'm sorry, sorry 😜

#10. Body Language

All I have to say about this song is that it's pure FUN. Like, it's made for dancing in your living room or on the street, it's spring light rain and sun afterwards but it's also summer, it's a light breeze, it's smiling as wide as you can, it's trying to outmanoeuvre someone else while dancing, it's just amazing and never gets old.

Favorite part: The first verse.

#11. First Time

You know, I did not expect this song to be that high. I always imagine First Time like an Elora Pautrat picture - kinda like an idealised version of a Japan suburb (hell, I even made a kinda shitty First Time lyric video to one of her pictures back in quarantine). Honestly one of her best examples of a "dancing through the tears" song. I don't know why we don't talk about it more as a society.

Favorite part: I REALLY like the (by-by-by-by-by-byeee) part right before the bridge

#12. LA Hallucinations

Write and sing and wear whatever. I'm a sucker for songs that touch on succumbing to addiction (be it related to substances or something else), hating fame, materialism, paparazzi/invasion of privacy, so it was quite natural that I'd like this song. I particularly like her delivery - it's kind of like she's manic, trying desperately to cling to her roots while on some sort of sugar/alcohol/drug high that makes everything around her change constantly.

Favorite moment: The bridge.

IF I JUST LIE HERE WILL YOU LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#13. Gimmie Love

Whenever I hear this song I get transported to August 2019 - I'm in Germany, biking underneath pink clouds in the countryside and time has stopped. Carly evokes feelings of both pining and hopefulness which is a rare combination but works extremely well. For a lack of better words, this song makes me ascend. I feel like I'm about to gently levitate out of my chair, into the clouds and then into another dimension full of pink clouds that smells like linden. It's this imagery that makes it stand out above some of the other songs.

Favorite moment: every time she shouts gimmie love with a bit more energy and variation than usual in the final chorus

#14. Boy Problems

I used to see this song in a way similar to "Emotion" before - a super solid bop that just wasn't life-changing. Just amazing. But then I saw a gif of this moment:

And I was changed forever. It's such a fun song and it was taken to another level for me when I leaned into the sassy, eye-rolling parts of it. I also quite enjoy the dialogue, it's super fun and I love acting it out.

Favorite moment: the moment in the gif

#15. Run Away With Me

I have a particularly weird relationship with most of the "critical darling" or "commercial juggernaut" songs on my favorite records. There's this immense inner contrarian urge to be like "They're not that good" and to point out that there are much better songs on the record. And while the latter part of this statement is true, Run Away With Me, despite my lack of an emotional connection to it, always, always manages to make its way into my top 40 most listened-to songs of the year. I don't know how it happens, it's just consistently good. Maybe someday I'll form some deeper connection to it but until then, it's a bop, it's blue skies, wind in my hair, and freedom. I always play it before I land somewhere although I feel like it's more of a train/bike song.

Favorite moment: Over the weekend, we could turn the world to gold.

#16. When I Needed You

HEY! When I Needed You is the credits of the wonderful, neon-light illuminated 80s movie that Emotion (the album) is. It's honestly perfect. Empowering, fun, a teeny little bit childish but in the best way. I honestly don't have much to say about it aside from: it's perfect, it's incredibly fun to sing along to and.... yeah. I love it.

Favorite moment: The last chorus, start to finish. also the HEY!s

#17. Emotion

This song is a hot night in a beach bar illuminated by red neon lights in the middle of July. There are not too many people there and time seems to have stopped. It took me some time to fully recognise this song as more than a bop but now that I get it? Oh my god. It's so sleek and arrogant, literally never gets old. I would never put it anywhere near my top 20 of Carly's songs but seeing as I completely adore 80% of her output, a lot of other great songs share that quality. Still a 10/10.

Favorite moment: The first verse is so haughty, I love it. Also, any time she's teasing the ex-object of her affections.

#18. Warm Blood

Let down my guard tonight, I just don't care anymore... Warm Blood is a truly unique song in the sense that it's one of the few songs where she's not giving her all, vocally. Instead, she traps us in a hazy, drunk, lazy red night that threatens to consume you if you stay for too long. Now that I'm writing this, I realise that it kinda feels like dying of a vampire bite - everything is hazy, your eyes are closing as you lie in a warm pool of blood, there's nothing but heat and the sound of your slowing heart and you just don't care anymore. It's an immaculate vibe.

Favorite moment: The lying metaphors and the "I just don't care anymore" line. It's what elevated the song for me.

#19. Roses

DRUNK ON CIGARETTES LAST YEAR SILLOUETTHES DANCING IN THE DARK LOVE MADE IN THE PARK BIG BLACK BLOSSOM TREES BABY COVER ME HOLD ME OUT TO BLOW PLEASE DON'T LET ME GO

Roses is a brilliant song that has probably one of her best bridges. It's cinematic, theatrical, a perfect tragic finale of Side B. Honestly, the only reason it isn't higher on the list is that the song is great but only the bridge is a masterpiece.

Favorite moment: The bridge duh

#20. Higher

I used to kinda despise this song cause it's literally the only song post-Kiss that she didn't write but as time has passed, I've realised the production really hits. It's nothing groundbreaking but it's a very fun song when you let go of your expectations about it. I'd honestly describe this song as whiteish-pink clouds, but not the saturated pink of Gimmie Love or the light lavender of Never Get To Hold You.

Favorite part: the hii-hiii-hiiiigher part in the chorus.

#21. Never Get To Hold You

Another song that transports me to August 2019 in Germany, Never Get To Hold You kinda feels like the dusk version of Gimmie Love's sunset. It's beautiful, kinda mindless which really fits it and yeah. I don't have a manic obsession with it but it's very nice. Also I have a fun memory of biking to this song while looking at some cows in Germany. Really fun. Light Lavender song.

Favorite moment: The bridge but the whole song is excellent.

#22. All That

The only moment on the main album that could be described as a true ballad, All That took some time for me to get but now that I get it? Wow. Despite there being better songs on the record, All That is still a standout to me in a way. The song feels like glistening under a disco ball and dancing alone at prom in a more-than-half-empty room. It's wonderful. I also really appreciate how this is one of the few Carly songs where the sad lyrics are not combined with peppy energetic production.

Favorite moment: The ad-libs in the last chorus (SHOW MEEEEEE)

#23. I Really Like You

Despite its relatively lower placement, I really like this song! (see what I did there) It's super fun to sing, deliciously saccharine (which is a word I learned thanks to reviews of the track So Nice) and I just love her energy! And you know, I've never had anything against repetitive choruses.

Favorite moment: I really really like the "boy on the moon" line.

#24. Love Again

Fun song, similar to Never Get To Hold You except I don't have much of an emotional connection to it. It's fun, fun to sing along to but I don't have much to say about it except "Solo if it slayed".

Favorite moment: Moon... where's the man in you? (also maybe a throwback to IRLY's boy on the moon)

#25. Favourite Colour

Yeah. I actually quite like this song but it has never been anything special to me. It's very beautiful, sure, but almost everything on both albums outdoes it for me. I'd imagine it's very nice to listen to while high but I guess I've never connected to it that much. Still a solid 8.

Favorite moment: WAKE ME UP! ME UP! ME UP!

#26. Black Heart

I listened to the two projects three times between writing and rewriting and I didn't notice Black Heart playing at all. It's okay, sometimes I enjoy it but it's so forgettable.

Favorite moment: UNDER THE BLOSSOM TREE! ah who am i kidding, it's just okay.

[that-kid89]

03.26.2024

numb the pain. <- song of my day

but like a happy day for me? tbh definitely ended on more of high note, a spark of hope after being unemployed for a week now.

i feel like i could write 15 sentences at the same time right now.

madness, insanity, sickness, disturbed, panic.

ecstasy, highs, journeys, toys, wanderlust.

modest, numb, emotional, passive.

literally just writing random words that pop in my head. feels like gonzo clarity. check me if it's narcissism. too much pride.

daily average for screen time on my iphone is 3.5 hours for the 3 days this week.

read and skimmed all the back to my opener post. i initially felt bad, sad, and let down. reading my thoughts of love for heather, but more so my feelings towards my self. talking to myself in this blog, scolding him nearly. listing my needs and realizing where i sit that i made not one attempt at getting those things. were they really needs or just fantasies though.

kinda feelin like fuck all that shit. maybe its the beers and esteem boost from my first hearing back on one the applications i sent out in the last 7 days.

whats always wild to me, is how i can drift off into my dreams, when i'm awake. the rare night where i just daydream and not even sleep. its so crazy to me, and i dont recall talking about that seriously with someone. wish i did with heather. but also the stimulation i get from twist my hair into knots. sometimes it hurts so good. but i get mad when it's really knotted, and i gotta rip it apart, usually with hair being ripped out. insane.

talking about today now. woke up late, but earlier than i thought after falling asleep around 3am. tried not to drink but caved last night and had a few swigs of casamigos followed by a lovely beer. technically counts as today! well i suppose only the events beginning at 12:00am. fuck it, yeah so i woke up, and funny i keep checking my phone for all kinds of notifications. first thing i read was a message from christian on insta about the boat hitting the bridge in baltimore. this is recent to the mass shooting in russia, god damn dark news. still seeing a bunch of posts about necann. i'm glad i've been to events, but felt i had no place going this year. i don't think i've been when working in the industry, but definitely when i was younger. took a much needed shower today and trimmed up. then went to whole foods and petco. nearly bought the exact same things from each store, from i got yesterday. took the amg out though, and always get excited to drive that beast. let it warm up right, cold start was rowdy as always. deffs got some good pops and bangs. fuckin car is so quick too, and so exhilarating. however i did get this great beer as well called "termination". spent a lot of time looking at crafties to get, and ultimately chose this one although it being a triple ipa. 10% abv and damnnnn smooth. i'm on my second one tonight. sipping out the duvel big round chalice that i got from an xmas yankee swap one year. but anyway, getting a hit back on an application from only yesterday was an esteem boost. seems like a company tha could really use my help, and that they'll have a lot of work cut out for me. falling in love a bit quick as i do my homework on them. keeping in my mind that its only a teams meeting planned for next week but was still the first i've heard in a week. this last week has felt like freedom. but also emptiness. i do miss my last job, and still trying to get a good understanding of how it ended. but it feels a lot like the lat time heather and i broke up. i had reached my breaking points with them months ago, and never recovered. but they cite a recent mishandling of a heroin related customer incident at the store, which i can see how they perceive as mishandling, but damn it really felt good to get fired. i just walked out they of my term. instant relief, not much to finalize with them either. anyway

running out of steam with my writing. im glad i did. btw, song of the day came from nowhere. i somehow had the song stuck in the head, and i searched a rough idea of the lyrics with xxxtentacion and nailed it. i've had it on repeat all day since. had it on loop in the car, and had it on loop during this whole session. a classic way i've listened to my favorite x songs, a repetitive lyric design with just guitar chords or sample. feel like he's here with me, just sharing his emotions with me.

came to love his music after a distinct memory of mine, being when i shurgged off his death as i read him to be an abuser in his relationship. came to realize he had remorse in his actions, and was on a mission that i never would found out myself. this girl told me he was one of her favs, and that's when i got into him. his music still took time to grow on me, but ive now listened to most of his music, and i think all of his albums, all the way through, multiple times. 17, ?, skins, bad vibes forever, and some of his early stuff from mixtapes and singles. but yeah, quite a learning and growing experience. ending sentences on the 4 beat, or like a significant strum or beat, just feels so good.

rest in peace jahseh.

thank you for helping me open up my mind in so many ways.

here's to me, and the life i've lived and will continue to complete. excited to see where life takes me. for now, a nostalgic night of no responsibilities, weed and beer.

signing off.

[ghostboyjules]

It appears the last two (2)….times I’ve tried creating this post, tumblr thought I was too wordy, so I’m going to attempt to get in and get out before it eats itself again

this playlist (a Dream of the Endless™ character examination via my silly brain and sad ass music) took me entirely too long and I'm going to throw my laptop out of the window if I have to look at it any longer so pls pls take it and I hope that if you listen or even read the lyrics that you find something new, or hear something you like.

This absolutely would not have ever seen the light of tunglr.hell if not for the beautiful souls of the Sandman fandom, and a few of my new friends and mutuals. So special internet cookies and hugs to these inspirational, encouraging, and beyond talented individuals; @wordsinhaled , @weirdfishy , @wizardofgoodfortune , and @xx-vergil-xx - i love y'all dearly and I hope this is even HALF of what you would have expected, or a quarter of the amazing content y'all have bestowed upon my lil eyeballs. Now Onward! to words that personally injure me!

Florence + The Machine -Too Much Is Never Enough

And the crown, it weighs heavy 'Til it's banging on my eyelids Retreating in covers and closing the curtains One thing's for certain, oh A year like this passes so strangely Somewhere between sorrow and bliss

Oh, who decides from where up high? I couldn't say "I need more time" Oh, grant that I can stay the night Or one more day inside this life

~I first encountered this song in it's source material FFXV, and there it destroyed me. Now, wearing my dumb lil blorbo glasses yet again, it is back with vengeance..goth royalty sad wet cat flavored (gross), vengeance. "too much is never enough" .... oh sweeties...

VIRA - God Complex

God, I could try To be the one To be the one I'll tear down the sky What do you want? I'll do it all for life My love, my alibi Tonight, tonight I'll try to do it for you

I'm gonna be where you are Doesn't matter how far Because we are meant to be I'm gonna be what you need Darling, please worship me Unless you prefer to plead

~pretty sure this is the angriest sounding song on this thing? but it is fitting.. and desperate.. and wanting and... painful. when she grits out 'try' and 'sky' the way she does.. god the emotion. this just brought to mind Dream and falling for someone hard enough to the point of destructive devotion...

AJJ - Body Terror Song

It will betray you Be used against you Then it will fail on you, my dear But before that, you'll be a doormat For every vicious narcissist in the world Oh, how they'll screw you all up and over Then feed you silence for dessert

~ I love seeing people explore the idea of Dream just...not vibing with being fully corporeal. At least not in the way he is while in the Waking.. what a mood, and especially after the fishbowl...whew.

Philip Wesley - Lamentations of the Heart

[Instrumental~]

~I wanted to include a few instrumental tracks in here and this one felt apt because I used to fall asleep to this album all the time. Like it was one of the only ones I could fall asleep to with any certainty. The feeling and title for this one tho struck me with Dream specifically so I went with it. The rest of the album is so nice though, highly rec.

Iris Lune - Paper Mache

Save me from myself I've been in the dark too long Paper mache love Make me believe that I can change Make me believe that I'm not strange At all

~ this song!! it sounds so so ethereal and her voice is GORGEOUS but the lyrics!! have mercy the lyrics! big ole owwie! "save me from myself" , "make me believe that I can change, make me believe that I'm not strange" hhhh (also if y'all couldn't tell, this will be dreamling flavored, I think I'll tag them too jic but. yes...)

Penny and Sparrow - A Kind of Hunger

tremble, recognize the distance Go try and murder every preference I’ll keep hangin' ‘round for reference come care about me come care about me

changing, watching you with wonder you’re less and getting even younger dying is just a kind of hunger come care about Me come care about Me

~this is... such a heavy song. hadn't heard it before starting this playlist but found it and immediately had to add it.. just. come care about me. changing, watching you with wonder. Dying is just a kind of hunger. that line specifically. -lays on the floor for 3hrs-

Carly Rae Jepsen - Gimme Love

Gimmie love (Oh) It's the way we are together (Oh) Wanna feel like this forever, forever (Oh) It's the way we are together And I never thought I'd ever say forever

~originally was gonna be a joke song to lighten the mood but haha! nope! I mean it is lighthearted but it still absolutely, in my mind, fits Morpheus. beautiful babygirl of the endless...smooch

Jon Bellion - Stupid Deep (Acoustic)

What if who I hoped to be was always me? And the love I fought to feel was always free? What if all the things I've done Were just attempts at earning love? Yeah 'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, oh, stupid deep

~this song fucks me up! 😀 for real though, I highly suggest watching the acoustic performance of this that he has on youtube cause the vibe is so.. intimate and dreamy and gorgeous.. and the lyrics.. jon bellion, sir.. smh.. the ending..

Marika Hackman - Undone, Undress

They heard my heart for miles The air inside Was seeping out In silent shouts It crumpled in my chest

~this is definitely... a nightmarish..creeping kind of song, and the lyrics are, according to the Genius annotations, rather distressing but I don't really see them the same way. I can't really explain it but hopefully y'all will see what I mean. love this one specifically "Load me heavy, I can't bend. Break me better, so I won't mend" break me better.... hhhhhh

DBMK - Switchblade

Did you hear I coughed my heart out? It never fit me so I'm likely to drown My body yearns for something real now Suggesting kitchen counters, can openers, and close encounters to hold me down Ain’t no one's boyfriend, wow I'm busy up in my brain but they don't see anything, yeah

I open up too easily, look at me Single sided blade of insecurities, yeah I open up too easily, speak to me Cutting through my comfort like its misery, sad

~this. SONG. he just like me fr 😔 azdcafs nah, honestly idk if this is projecting, but to MEE I like to think about Dream being so ready for a partner, and he gives so so much of himself to them and loves so passionately but he also has just... so many issues. just ugh this song..

Blegh - His Hands

He feels handcrafted just for you But he's a little bit too far away and You can't, you can't His hands are on you And you know you'll be gone by the morning but you know he loves you And you know you like his strong hands, strong hands

You're too real for me You should go to something better I'll give you to someone better I have friends that'll be on earth for longer I have friends that won't feel like monsters

~another song that I was not prepared for before hand that ruined me so viciously, that I had to scream at multiple ppl about it, most of which were mentioned in this post, but Verg's reaction was very memorable because I believe she told me she was on public transportation and the way she phrased it had me rolling around on the floor. but yeah y'all just gotta hear this fuckin,... bear mace of a song (with your Dreamling Glasses™ on pls, as i believe it is meant to be asxacsgdcvc)

Agent Fresco - Wait for Me

I can’t see clear The rage of rivers roam every tear They all fall through vague and vast tunnels With hurts of hatred came blinding years Will they disappear?

I’m far away, treading a path I’ve made and it’s laid with stones of fallen love I need to feel and to make atonement before coming home

~-motions to song- I mean... c'mon... this alone? nah nah nah..I gotta lay down.

Talos - Endgame

I’m drawn across An empty space This dreamland now A tired waste O it’s the endgame

A blackout heart A seething truth There’s nothing in me Left for you We’re lies

~ Talos...Talos Talos Talos... y'all. if you don't know him, but like indie-ish electronic music with beautiful angelic Irishman vocals? pls... he makes me insane. He also just gives me Morpheus vibes in general, I'm not exactly sure why, but... I also think the cover art on his first two albums are very Morpheus energy, could just be me tho

Emma Ruth Rundle - Savage Saint

I held him, his whole life In my hands, in my heart

Don't be ever forgotten, Savage Saint Never draw blood in the garden, faint Don't be the name that's drawing shame and Never let your heart harden, little flame

~I knew I had to have Emma Ruth in here somewhere, but it took me a second to find the perfect song.. and I was torn between a few, but I saw this one and. Immediately my heart was out of my body. Thinking about Orpheus.. and Dream thinking about Orpheus.. draw blood in the garden,,, I held him his whole life.. in my hands in my heart.. little flame.. it seems I am upsetti spaghetti.

Sleeping at Last - Neptune

Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how I'm only honest when it rains An open book with a torn out page And my ink's run out I wanna love you, but I don't know how

~Sleeping at Last my beloved <3 ... if I could snort 'atlas pt 1 the album' I fuckin would. also there's a song on there for literally any blorbo. i could bet my life on that. somewhere on there! "if brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece" ah hah.. hahaha..

Sea Power - Want To Be Free

Now we're under the stars Smoking cigars On top of a motorcar Hanging out Like some kind of nebula We

Want to be free Want to be free It will last forever Eternally

~this one was more for vibes and because it's beautiful, but also if I think too hard about Morpheus and how he just wants to be normal and rest for a little while, then I will have to go eat a whole bag of chocolate chips and cry myself to sleep.

Clem Turner - Divine Loser

"Connect yet stay opaque," I cannot have it both ways Please do not tell the time I can't be trusted with the date

My god, you break the skin But may I be thy heaven? Will you take my sickness While I deprive you of your health?

~haha Divine Loser..defo Morpheus (jk. or am I) that second part I included.. I keep having to re-read those lyrics, cause.. my goodness. there's a part later that says "baby just let me bleed in peace" like... whoof. Clem Turner is the only person on here twice, mostly cause these two songs are just so phenomenal I had to and the lyrics... SHMACK.. and Clem's VOICE?? pardon me?

Clem Turner - Honeywell

Get it through your pretty head Take me with you instead Forget her, she's gone So, tell me, dear stranger What's got you distraught?

Mm, here I am to bring Psychosomatic freedom to your head May I be of service, newlywed? See me as a host to all your greatest dreams And then some change As long as your compassion stays the same

~"So tell me, Dear Stranger, what's got you so distraught?" Um..is that in a dreamling fic, cause... 👀 and then "see me as a host to all your greatest dreams and then some change, as long as your compassion stays the same." running in circles, sobbing, hopping out my window, running into the woods...etc

Mustapha Kamel - Can You Feel Me

[Instrumental~]

~ this song just makes me -lays face down in the carpet for 2+ hrs- and the cello is gahdamn gorgeous..

The New Basement Tapes - When I Get My Hands On You

When I come home to you Gonna take you down to the riverside When I come home to you Hold you in my arms all night

And now you know Everywhere on earth you go You're gonna have me as your man

~ Mushy Dream Rights!!! let this inconceivable being be a sap!! I love seeing him clingy and sweet and so so in love and just AAAHHH I could literally weep, I love this weird scrungly man.

Glass Animals - JDNT

I'm all armored up I've got my old helmet on Keeping out an eye Puffing all my feathers up One more little blow One more tap and I collapse

~heehee another nightmarish song. not only is this a fuckin BANGER, but Glass Animals has such a.. Sound. that's dreamlike most of the time, but sometimes can be so.. tense and creepy, and the lyrics can be violent and just downright odd. mostly from the zaba album, but regardless. I could talk about Dream + Glass Animals for hours, as proven with N (@wordsinhaled) because we have done exactly that, I think twice now lolololol (also I thought the line abt the helmet was.. hehe funny)

ABRA - Pride

Palms up, no crown You wanna mess around I wanna hold you down It's not okay I need you everyday

I lost all the pride That I thought I could keep Can you see me Say you feel me It's a big world But I fall at your feet Reach out and touch me

~ this was originally an entirely different song! but I switched it out last minute and I am v happy that I did because this song..this song fucks severely, but also it lets me put a facet of Dream on this playlist that I love seeing, which is the needy and seductive lil bastard that he can be. i think i could make a whole other playlist dedicated to that aspect tbh azcacdfavcg

Purity Ring - Asido

Oh, the madness in weakness Doubled o'er on the plate Fill an ocean with weaponry Hurricanes of our grace

Feel as lonely as I do, as I do Feel as lonely as I do, I do Feel as lonely as I do

~I wanted some Purity Ring on here because I know their genre is sometimes described as dream pop or witch house, and their lyricism has this... poetically visceral aspect to it sometimes that I adore while also being very ethereal. Love them. also tho, feel as lonely as I do?? of course it had to be in here.

Hozier - It Will Come Back

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

It can't be unlearned I've known the warmth of your doorways Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you Oh, please, give me mercy no more That's a kindness you can't afford I warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born You'll hear me howling outside your door

~ okay look, I know everybody and their mother who has made a playlist like this has put Mr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne on it, but like - come on.. look at those lyrics. He just Gets It™ and the music slaps ass! I have like, an actual Dreamling playlist in the works as well, which I'm sure will be... longer. but hopefully I'll have the foresight to work on it a bit at a time, and PERHAPS prepare a word document, since I cannot seem to help rambling at any chance I get 💀

Son Lux - Labor

I will break with you For your body to be freed and pleased Take the weight of you For your gravity to be erased

Come to life, my hungry arms are begging you But what more can you do?

Labor reveal before our eyes Into our ears Unfurl with light The stars around us disappear Just what is torn What comes alive inside of us

~ I wanted.. something big on here. I don't necessarily have a desired order for this to be played in, but this was the last one I added, if that tells you anything. The opening of this song is a little jarring, but the piano is so. beautiful. Son Lux has such a way of composing their music that just leaves me breathless and astounded at the feelings music can bring forward in me, and speaking in Dream terms, I feel like that would be the kind of song he really appreciates. I'm not gonna end this with rambling about the complexity of human emotion, because I don't believe tumblr could handle me doing that - operation-wise, i feel like it's abt to stab me as is- It's also not why I'm here lol. "I will break with you. For your body to be freed and pleased. Take the weight of you, for your gravity to be erased." the rest of that line literally mentions a phantom muse.. I think, viewing this in terms of Morpheus' marriage, and maybe even how he thinks about marriage as a concept is interesting. On Genius they mention that on a Son Lux insta story they talked about the first half of the song being about helping a friend die, and the second half about the birth of Ryan Lott's son. Looking at in that framing is also,,, WHEW.. okay this paragraph has been long enough lmao

WELL GEEZE.. looks like I've finally made it to the bottom without tumblr shitting itself again, so I'm gonna wrap this up before it gets the chance to. HAH.

If anyone has bothered to read this far; I cannot thank you enough nor can I tell you how much I appreciate you reading my inane mangling of the English language to be overly emo about music and a spindly nightmare of a man, but REGARDLESS. Thank you, I love you, and I would absolutely take a stab wound for you and make you cookies. 💕🖤💕🖤✨

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 13

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a     desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

--

Chapter 13: Until My Heart Stops Beating

< | Previous Chapter

The rest of the day prior to your wedding was spent in partial tension. You never found out what the favor Techno had called for was exactly, but you didn’t mind. Truthfully, you were increasingly more focused on your wedding. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, and you practically had to force yourself to sleep that night. You awoke far earlier than normal because of it, moving around your room anxiously.

You eventually lowered yourself into your bath, taking care to make sure you were clean. You let the steam from the water curl around you, sighing and trying your best to relax. Thinking about today caused your stomach to erupt in butterflies and a smile to spread across your face. You truly hoped today went well. Eventually you stood up, stepping out of the tub and sliding into a shift.

There was a soft knock on your door after a few moments of you just sitting, and you called whoever it was in. Eret slid into the room, offering you a smile. A bundle of white fabric sat in his arms, and a few servants followed behind him with various things. “Good morning to our bride,” He practically cooed, motioning towards a servant to the table between chairs. She followed, setting down a tray where he pointed. She hurriedly bowed, leaving the room soon after. You watched Eret settle the fabric onto your bed, the remaining servants following in setting down boxes of other stuff. He sent them off, before turning to you.

“Morning Eret,” You murmured, returning his earlier smile. He seemed content, motioning towards the tray of food.

“Go ahead and eat, we’ll start with your hair. Are you nervous?” You reached for the cup of tea, bringing it to your lips and adjusting yourself so Eret had access to your hair.

“Very. Also excited, but I imagine it’s to be expected,” You managed to explain, letting Eret run a brush through your hair. You took your time with the food, enjoying the way Eret tended to your appearance. You didn’t normally allow yourself to get pampered like this, so you wouldn’t mind doing it this once. 

“I imagine so. It’ll all go fine, though. It’ll probably go by better than you expect.” He made sure your hair was laying perfectly, humming under his breath as he did.

“Hopefully it goes smoothly, I do have some concerns though,” You sighed out the words, thinking about Dream. You hoped he would behave, truly. You would be extremely upset if he didn’t.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Eret reassured. You watched him move towards the fabric on the bed, peering at the lace he picked up. The veil. Your stomach erupted into nervous butterflies at the sight of it, examining delicate lace as he brought it over. The edges were thorned vines, leaves of white lace lying beneath light blue ribbon roses. You marveled it as he brought it close, unable to help your smile.

“You really outdid yourself,” You couldn’t stop the praise from leaving your mouth, reaching out to run your fingers along it.

“Just wait until you see the full dress. Turn your head.” You did as he instructed, turning away from him so he could start setting the pins of the veil into your hair. The lace tickled your shoulders, but you did your best to keep still. He softly grasped your shoulders once he was finished, giving them a squeeze. You turned to look at him, and he smiled at you. He disappeared to the bed once more, rustling through the boxes and bringing one over. You peered into it curiously, eyeing the roses inside. They were fresh, white ones from the garden. You laughed softly, turning to face him so he could situate them in your hair.

Eret lined them up along the edge of your veil, making sure they sat perfectly in your hair. The pins would be a pain to take out later tonight, but you didn’t entirely mind it right now. “Are you finished eating?” He questioned once he finished, moving to grab another box before you replied. You nodded when he returned, watching him pull out kohl from the box.

You instinctively closed your eyes, letting him line them with the makeup without question. He softly murmured when you were good to open them. He took his time applying a stain to your cheeks and lips, stepping back to examine his work. He sighed softly, smiling at you. “You’re going to be a vision,” He murmured, making your cheeks flush.

“You think so?” You questioned, acutely aware of the fluttering of your stomach.

“I know so. Come on, let’s get you in your dress.” He motioned you to stand up, and you did so on shaking legs. The anxiety regarding your marriage was starting to leak through now, and you couldn’t hide it. Eret offered you a reassuring look, sorting through the bundles of fabric settled on your bed. He grabbed one of sections of fabric, holding it out to you. You examined it, easily identifying the petticoat and slipping it on over your shift.

Next he moved towards you, holding out another section of fabric. The actual dress. The sleeves were made of tulle, a light blue in color, flaring out away from ribbon roses at the elbows made to match the ones on your veil. The base of the dress was simple. White, with a deep scooping neckline. He helped guide it over your head, situating it around your shift. You couldn’t help but watch as he adjusted the tulle on the skirt. Ribbon Roses decorated the scalloped edges of the tulle, exposing the white skirt beneath. 

The stay was next, matching the dress with the white fabric embroidered delicately with blue roses. Eret’s brows were furrowed as he meticulously tightened the ribbons on it, making sure it sat perfectly. Once he had, he stepped back to examine you with a soft sigh. You flushed a little beneath the appraising gaze. He moved around again, grabbing a simple pair of shoes and stooping to slide them onto your feet. Moving in the dress almost felt weird, despite it not being too different in make than your most formal dresses. Perhaps it felt heavy with the meaning.

“One last touch,” Eret said, moving towards the final box on the bed. You had given him the earrings Techno gave you, as well as the necklace from Dream, for him to keep a hold of until today. You knew that was what sat within the box, watching him gingerly pick up the necklace to drape it around your neck. He tilted your head, sliding in the earrings and stepping back to give you a full look over.

“Oh, you’re gonna be the envy of so many,” He praised, and you shifted almost self consciously. The fact that you were wearing this dress caused you to fidget nervously.

“It doesn’t feel real,” You murmured, shifting around to search out the mirror you had. The rustling of your skirts felt loud in your ears, eyes roving over your appearance. It felt like something from a book, something so etherally unreal. 

“It is, I promise. I’ll go get your brother,” He whispered, stepping towards the door. You watched him, before turning your eyes back to your reflection. What would today hold for you? The ceremony was straight forward, but the celebration itself felt so unsure. Anything could happen.

A soft knock resounded at your door, causing you to turn once more. George pushed open the door, carefully shutting it behind him. He stared at you for several long moments, seeming at a loss for words. It was probably weird, seeing you about to be married.

“It’s so hard to believe you’re my baby sister,” He practically echoed your thoughts, walking towards you. You laughed softly, nodding along.

“I guess I’m really not a baby anymore, am I?” You questioned, watching as he placed his hands on your shoulders. You leaned ever so slightly into the touch, a smile tugging your lips.

“No. Are you sure you still want this?” He watched you closely, looking for any change in your expression.

“Of course. Techno is kind, and his family is enjoyable. I have easily found friends here, and I know I can just as easily make a happy life. I will always miss you and Dream, but we’ll all move on.” You gently grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it tightly. George smiled, seeming almost sad.

“The castle won’t ever be the same. You’ve grown up so much.” He returned the squeeze, and you could only nod. You did yearn for the ease you felt of your teenage years in the castle. The lack of responsibilities you had felt, being able to run around and goof off with Dream. However you felt more freedom now than you had there. It was a new feeling, but a welcome one.

“I’ll miss some parts of it, but I’m excited for my future here. Everyone is so kind,” You constantly reassured him, letting him move you away from the mirror.

“Eret said he was going to check on Technoblade, but he’d tell us when everything was ready. Are you ready for this?” He settled into one of the chairs, pulling you into the one beside him.

“As ready as I can be. I’m nervous. There’s a lot happening today,” You folded your hands in your lap, legs bouncing.

“I can imagine. You put a lot of work into planning this, didn’t you?” You sat up straight, having problems trying to relax. The nerves were unbearable.

“Sort of, I just had input. Eret handled a lot of the main plans. Him, Wilbur, and Nihachu deserve more credit than I do.” You could hardly take any of the responsibility. You didn’t put in much actual work, just feedback. 

“Still, it’s not everyday you get married. Everything will go fine,” George reassured, giving you a smile. Truly, you didn’t know what you would do without him. Probably fall apart, you imagined. The two of you chattered softly as you waited, George attempting to keep your nerves soothed. It wasn’t too long before there was a knock at the door, Eret popping his head in.

“Everything’s ready now. Are you ready?” His voice was gentle, and you offered a soft smile. 

“As ready as I can be,” You sighed, standing up. George followed, lingering right beside you.

“You know where to go, right? I’ll go ahead and wait there, give the two of you a few more moments,” Eret spoke softly, as if anything louder would break the calmness. You appreciated it, whispering your thanks as he left. George turned to you, taking your hands in his.

“The wedding will go wonderfully, I know it. Mom and Dad send their best wishes. It’s hard to believe my baby sister is all grown up and getting married now.” The way he spoke and squeezed your hands had tears springing to your eyes. They threatened to spill as he pulled you in for a hug, kissing your forehead. You carefully laid your head against his shoulder, clinging to him.

“I’m really going to miss our garden walks,” you whispered, and he nodded.

“I will too. Don’t keep them waiting, though. I don’t want your husband to come looking for you.” George finally pulled away from you, leading you towards the door to your room. You followed, taking a deep breath. Silence lapsed between the pair of you as you wandered down the hallway and stairs. You were led through the courtyard, towards the garden. Nerves pooled in your stomach, and you hoped it didn’t show.

George gripped your hand in reassurance, walking with you down the path. Eyes were on you, and you were very aware of it. Among those eyes, though, were Techno’s. At the other end of the aisle. Hands folded in front of him, a pale cape fastened around his shoulders. A blue sash was tied around his waist, similar in color to the blue accents on your dress. The emerald rose brooch sat against the stark white of his shirt, clearly visible from the other end. The black prongs of his crown stood tall, a heavy contrast to the pink locks fanned around it. His braid was ornamented with gold chains, jewels interspersed within the chains.

In short, he was definitely a regal sight standing there. You were reluctant to let go of George’s hand in exchange for Techno’s, yet did all the same. You briefly watched your brother move away, taking a spot beside Dream. You watched your friend for a few moments, shifting beneath his gaze. His gaze was dark, and he offered you a smile. You supposed it was meant to be encouraging, but it never quite reached his eyes. You didn’t care to think too much on it, attention focusing back in on Techno.

He was staring down at you, a soft look in his brown eyes. That helped quell the nerves in your chest, and you offered him a smile as soft as the look he gave you. A moment of peace, almost to yourselves, as the Officiant was droning on beside the two of you.

“...to unite two separate souls into that of one. This braid of ribbon will signify their unity and bind them together, from now until eternity.” The man lifted a thick braid of ribbon, made of three colors: red, white, and black. Small vines of flowers were interwoven with it, and it was certainly pretty. Techno kept one hand with yours, the other taking one end of the ribbon braid from the wrinkled hand holding it out to him.

“Do you swear, on all that you hold dear, that you will protect this woman with your entire being? That you will give her everything you have, in wealth and love?” He rattled as Techno began gingerly weaving the braid around your joined hands. It caused butterflies to stir in your stomach, just watching it. His eyebrows were even knitted together in concentration, the very tip of his tongue peaking out of his mouth. 

“I swear on it all, that I will care for her until I draw my last breath.” There was a warmth to his voice that had your cheeks flushing, a smile tugging the corners of your lips up further. You carefully took the braid from him when prompted, weaving it around your hands as well.

“Do you swear, to all you hold close, that you will support this man with your entirety? That through everything, injury and health, sickness and wealth, you will stay by his side?” You finished weaving the braid as he spoke, the two ends hanging loose beneath your hands.

“I swear it. I’ll be by his side until my heart stops beating.” Your voice rang clear, and the officiant seemed content with it.

“Then I will tie the loose ends of this braid. This represents the joining of your two wayward souls joining together to be one. In the presence of the sky and the earth, the trials of water and fire, you will forever be one. Even beyond mortality, you will always be with one another, through this life and the next.” As he spoke, he very carefully grasped the ends of the braid. They were tied together, locking their hands in a grasp. You couldn’t help the grin that split your face at that, turning to look up at Techno.

He offered you a soft smile, taking a step closer to you and carefully gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger. Your stomach practically exploded into nervous butterflies. The kiss. You had forgotten the kiss. He leaned down, lips pressing to yours firmly. It was just a kiss of obligation, a part of the ceremony, but it had heat crawling over your cheeks and down your neck. He lingered, fingers gently squeezing yours. You couldn’t help but respond to the squeeze, stepping a little closer to him.

He was pulling back after a few heartbeats, smiling at you once more and turning towards the people. You couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you as he held up your bound hands, causing a few of them to cheer. Part of you wanted to hide, but you simply stuck as close to Techno’s side as you could.

“Let’s party!!” Tommy’s voice rang out from the crowd. He was clearly exhausted with all the ceremonial things, though you weren’t entirely sure you blamed him. Weddings weren’t too exciting, though your nerves would beg to differ. You felt like a frazzled mess on the inside, and you still had an entire day to go.

You and Techno stood back, watching the crowd filter towards the ball room. You glanced to the ribbon binding your hands, acutely aware of the feeling of Techno's fingers slotted between yours. You supposed that you were giving the boys time to set up for the first dance. You just accepted the silence, practically leaning against your husband.

"After the dance we'll be able to take the ribbon off. You won’t be tied to me all day." Amusement laced his voice, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"It's not all bad. A little inconvenient, but all in all it's fine." You looked up to him with a smile, which he returned. Your free hand moved, toying with the ends of the ribbon. The pair of you only stood there for a little longer before you heard Tommy shouting for the pair of you to hurry up. You couldn’t help but laugh. Did he ever stop having energy? You followed Techno along the path winding through the garden, the soft chatter from the ballroom floating over the veranda.

"You did it, Big Man! You're a married man!" Tommy cheered when the pair of you walked in, slinging an arm around both of your shoulders. "Now that this is my sister-in-law," the way he said it, reeling you close to him with a shit eating grin told you this was going to be entertaining, "I can fight her now, right?"

A loud laugh bubbled past your lips at the antics, watching Techno huff and swat at his brother with his free hand. "We'll see." This seemed to be enough to placate Tommy for the time being, sending him scurrying off towards where Tubbo and Wilbur were messing with the instruments in the corner. You watched the blond pester his brother and best friend, a fond smile on your face. He was quite excitable about this all, but it's not like the pair of you had been complete strangers over the past few weeks.

Besides your common training with Techno, you would often spend time sneaking about the castle with Tommy and Tubbo, quietly helping them with all sorts of trouble that they got into. Not to mention the time you spent in the libraries by yourself, or the gardens with Eret. While in the library there were times Wilbur or Philza would visit you. You never minded it, though. Their silent companionship was warm and comfortable. Yet Techno always seemed to hesitate when it came to letting you train with his family. Surely they couldn’t be worse than him- or better, you supposed.

“Spare a coin for your thoughts?” Techno pulled you from your musings of his family, your gaze moving to him instead. You only spared a glance to the others before fully focusing on Techno.

“Just thinking about your family. How you’ve never let me really train with them. Only letting them watch. Is there a certain reason?” Your voice was soft, not willing anyone to hear your words. He paused any movement, seeming to clearly think over the answer. Or perhaps how to best frame it. You weren’t sure why he was thinking so hard, but you could practically see the wheels turning as he did.

“Tommy is reckless. Tubbo is… alright with fighting, a bit clumsy but enthusiastic. Philza is a much higher combat level than I would want you to fight just yet. As for Wilbur…” He trailed off, practically staring off behind your head. You turned, following his gaze to his older brother. The brown-haired prince was toying with the instrument, muttering to Tubbo before looking at Techno with a grin. He gave a thumbs up, and you could see Techno incline his head in a subtle nod before turning to you. “Well, Wilbur is encouraging us to dance.”

If you squinted, you swore you could see the faintest trace of pink on Techno’s cheeks. However you didn’t care to squint too hard, simply positioning the pair of you to dance. He squeezed your still joined hands, other hand hovering momentarily over the middle of your back before settling. Almost as if he had been unsure of the action. Once the two of you had settled comfortably into the position, the soft strings of Wilbur’s instrument filled the room, paired with the gentle notes from Tubbo at the piano. You were half focused on the music, partially focused on your husband. He pulled you along the floor effortlessly, spinning you with a practiced elegance you should have been expecting.

“Why not Wilbur?” You prodded again, only when you had fallen in line with the music as well as Techno. A soft sigh passed his lips as he gazed at you, eyes darting around to the people who were watching you.

“It’s complicated. Best we don’t go into it now.” His tone left no room for argument, a voice he rarely used with you- only when the pair of you trained. You responded with your own sigh, a little disappointed. You supposed you understood, but that didn’t make you any less curious. What was it that made Techno not want you to train with Wilbur?

“Later, then.” You were a little reluctant to agree. You trusted him to tell you whatever it was later. You would be rather upset if he didn’t. The two of you lapsed into silence as you danced. You were so acutely aware of many things. The gazes on you. The pressure of the ribbon braid on your hand. The feel of Techno’s hand on your back. The way you caught Dream’s dark gaze whenever he was in your line of sight. It was a lot, and truly you weren’t sure what to make out of it all.

It felt almost as soon as the dance and music had started, it was ending. Applause poured around you and you fidgeted. You were used to attention, but the attention you were receiving at your wedding was not something you could have ever prepared yourself for. Techno pulled away from you some, almost awkwardly, before reaching for the ribbon. “Why don’t we get this off and you can go dance with your brother. He looks restless.” You turned to look at George, who did in fact appear to be restless. He was shifting, eyes on the pair of you. You offered up a smile, holding up a finger to tell him you would be a moment.

The ribbon peeled from your hands after a few moments. Techno gingerly folded it, tucking it into his pocket. You smiled at him as well, rubbing your hand from where the ribbon had pressed into it. “Go, I’ll play a song. Since I’m required to.” He didn’t necessarily sound happy and you could only laugh.

“Alright. I’ll see you when I get a break. I know everyone is going to want to dance.” You slipped away from Techno to instead make way to George, grinning at him.

“Don’t look so nervous,” You teased, nudging him. He gave a shaking laugh.

“I can’t help it. There’s something almost tense about this whole thing. It feels so formal.” You understood what he meant. You knew marriages in Kinoko were different to this. They were more casual, even for royal families.

“It is strange. Almost overwhelming, isn’t it?” George had nodded in response. “Well then, Crown Prince Nofton,” you began to tease, a lopsided grin on your face. A reminder that you still were, in a way, his little sister he grew up with. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” You held out a hand, arching an eyebrow at him.

“My apologies, Crown Princess Minraelas. Would you honor me, your dearest brother, with a dance on your wedding day?” He bowed dramatically, grin matching your own. His tone was lofty, poking subtle fun at the way the courts of larger countries held themselves. You simply giggled as he took your hand, gently holding it and your shoulder with his other. “It even seems your husband will be playing a song for us.” He was struggling to contain his laughter, and you were barely managing.

The low sound of a violin drifted into the room, causing your head to turn to look at Techno. His eyes were closed as he ran the bow along the strings of the instrument, fingers moving against frets with clear familiarity. For all the resistance he had put up to playing the song, he seemed at peace with it now. You smiled, attention turning back to your brother as he pulled you into the throng of dancing people. "So it would seem," you concluded, letting the pair of you spin gently together as violin notes filled the air.

"You'll still write, won't you?" George had asked again, and you simply laughed softly.

"Always. I promise I'll tell you if I'm ever put into danger." You offered him a reassuring smile and he simply nodded. He seemed content enough, and you knew he had to be. He really was watching you grow up, wasn't he?

"If you don't write, I'm sending our entire army to rescue you." His lips quirked, a breathless laugh escaping him. You couldn't help but laugh as well.

"What makes you think I couldn't hold my own? I'm learning to fight now!" You declared, puffing your chest out just slightly. This elicited another laugh from your brother.

"No offense, but Technoblade handed you your ass. I think you might need the help of an army." You pouted at this, nose wrinkling just a little.

"Well, I doubt it'll ever come to the point of me having to truly fight."  You waved it off, shooting him a smile. “I’m well taken care of here. They like me.” You twisted, looking over to where Tubbo was speaking to Tommy. The brunet caught your gaze, brightening and offering you a cheerful wave. You lifted your hand briefly from George’s, returning the wave. Your attention returned to your brother, who simply smiled gently.

“I can tell. I just worry about you being where I can’t see you.” His voice was gentle, hand once more grasping your own. Your gaze softened slightly, head shaking just a little.

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Gogy. I swear to you, I’ll be fine. Happy. Free.” The childhood nickname had rolled off of your tongue with familiarity. A sign of how genuine you were. No formalities. Just two siblings.

He had sighed in response, hugging you tight for a moment. “I know. It’s hard to not see you as one.” You could reluctantly accept that, returning the hug. “I suppose I can’t keep your company for myself. Go, dance with Dream. He probably wants to.”

The words brought your attention to the blond, catching his eye and smiling a little. His gaze seemed conflicted- caught somewhere between soft and affectionate, and hard and frustrated. You tried your best to ignore it, waving him over slightly. He seemed to hesitate, before running his hands down the front of the green tunic he wore and heading your way. 

“Princess,” he greeted gently once he was close. Your eyes shone with light-hearted fondness, taking his proffered hand. He tugged you closer to him, one hand curled with yours while the fingers of the other dug slightly into your waist. You shrugged the grip off a little, free hand settling onto his shoulder, fingers fingers brushing the white fur of the cape that sat there. 

“For now,” You teased, beaming up at him. Mischief was clear in your grin, letting him whisk you away along the dance floor. His eye flickered with something- too quick for you to notice. Then it was looking over your head, seemingly focusing on someone else. You almost turned to look, but he was soon focused on you. He moved way too fast for you to keep up. It was exhausting, yet you weren't sure you wanted to bother with it right now. Not today.

His fingers grasped your waist tighter. "You're really set on this, aren't you? Are you even sure you truly want to become queen to him? To this nation?" Disgust and irritation laced his words. Hell, he even sounded accusatory. You frowned up at him, squaring your shoulders.

"I've told you this before. I'm going through with this. I'm fine. You and George worry too much. Praelicentiam has treated me well," you reassured. Your fingers smoothed the fur of his cloak, praying it was enough.

He still looked disgruntled, lips tugging into a small scowl. "You know if things go wrong-" he started, but you shook his head to cut him off.

"I can return to Kinoko. I know. You and George have told me this more times than I can count."  Your eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to calm yourself. His grip relaxed in the process, tugging you even closer.

"I just worry for you here. You've heard the rumors. I feel like you'd be safer in Kinoko." Where he could watch you. It was left unsaid, but definitely implied. He leaned down, pressing a feather light and affectionate kiss to your forehead. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you made to move away, saved by the clearing of a throat.

"Surely you wouldn't mind if I stole our bride for a dance?" A firm hand sat on your arm, drawing your attention to the blond man who had interrupted. Philza stood there, a kind yet unnerving smile directed to your childhood friend. 

Dream narrowed his eye for a moment before he relented, handing you over to the man. "Of course not. I'll talk to you later, princess." The distaste in his voice was palpable, but you were able to ignore it.

"You were starting to look like a deer caught in the middle of a path," Philza pulled your attention to him as he moved with you to the music. You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. 

"Dream can be a lot sometimes." Philza had simply inclined his head in acknowledgement as you spoke. Dream always had a way to be intense, and you never deciphered if it was good. It had been that way for the past year. You were hardly given time to dwell on your best friend, though. Instead you were being handed over to Tommy, who seemed far from thrilled. Just behind him you could see Wilbur, throwing him a very pointed look.

He didn't seem to linger with his dance, grumbling the whole time about how he hated these formal events. Much like the child he was. You would only laugh, knocking his ankles with your feet.

Then you were off to Tubbo, who's eyes were just as bright as his grin. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying my wedding more than I am." It was a lighthearted tease but he couldn't help but sheepishly laugh.

"For now I am, yeah," he acknowledged. You followed his gaze over your shoulder, where Schlatt stood holding a cup of wine. You supposed he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his father. You didn't blame him. Beside Schlatt stood Dream, his eye focused solely on you. The pair seemed quiet, thankfully. The idea of Schlatt talking too much with Dream made your stomach churn. You didn't doubt that Schlatt would be able to make Dream do something stupid- the older man was no doubt irritating.

The music faded to a new song, joined with a new dance partner. Your feet were aching, begging for a chance to sit down. Yet you supposed it was obligatory to dance with people. At least your new family seemed to believe so. Which is why Wilbur was now gliding you across the dance floor. He held himself with a poise very akin to Techno’s, a practiced poise and grace to his movements.

As if the way he held himself as he danced wasn't reminder enough, he couldn't help but joke, "If things had gone differently perhaps I would have been the one to promise you my last breath." He laughed, shooting you an amused smile. You echoed his laugh, briefly pondering how different Praelicentiam may have been.

"We'll never know, shall we? I think I prefer you my brother, anyways." He nodded in agreement, one hand softly patting your hair. It was exhausting, being on your feet this long. You needed to eat.

Eret seemed to realize this as they stepped up to you, holding a hand out. "One dance with me and I'll get you back to Technoblade. You've been dancing awhile." You let your shoulders sag a little.

"Just one dance, then. I'm exhausted." A whine edged into your voice. They laughed and nodded, seeming satisfied once you placed a hand into their's. Their movements were a comfort, in a way. You felt endlessly comfortable with them.

"Do you miss Kinoko?" They questioned after a few moments, making your steps stutter. It wasn't a question you expected from them.

You regained yourself, offering a soft smile. "Of course. It's my home, there's people I love there. It'll always be my home and I'll always yearn for it. The path laid ahead of me led me here, though. This is my home just as much." You loved Kinoko endlessly. Yet you were growing to love Praelicentiam. This was going to be your kingdom one day. You needed to learn to love it and it's people.

Eret seemed to think on your answer, sighing softly. "So long as you find happiness."

"I'll be happy here," you were quick to defend, offering a smile. They relented, and pulled back as the song came to an end.

"Fine, fine. Let's get you off of your feet." You were more than happy to follow Eret as they led you through the mix of people. As if it was even hard to spot Techno, where he stood talking quietly to a short man. You barely got a look at him before you were noticed. The man looked at you from behind glasses before smiling, seeming to disappear into the crowd before you got close. You frowned, lifting an eyebrow at Techno.

"Finally had enough socialization?" His voice called to you once within range. Eret squeezed your shoulder, muttering about how they needed to attend to other matters and disappearing.

"More than enough. Who was that?" You tried to locate the man in the crowd, but he was nowhere you could see. Weird.

“Someone running a favor for me.” It was a bland answer but you supposed there wasn’t much to expect. You simply relaxed into his hand as it settled between your shoulder blades, steering you towards seating. It took everything in your power to not sink into the chair as it was pulled out for you. You had a feeling that now that you were seated, you’d be there for a long while. 

Techno settled into the seat beside you, his eyes raking over everyone else. Watching as if he expected something. You followed the gaze, trying to view things as he did. Yet you couldn’t. All you saw was people partying, enjoying their time there. Eret was conversing with George, your older brother struggling to stifle laughter. Wilbur was talking to Nihachu and two people you couldn’t recognize. One was a woman, tall with a mop of curls like you had never seen. The way her fingers curled with Nihachu’s gave you enough clue on who she was. The other was a man, currently laughing over something you wished you could hear. He seemed to be laughing hard, struggling to keep ginger and white locks of hair out of his face. 

You sought out the younger two, knowing they would be joined at the hip. It wasn’t too hard. They stood with another- a boy? He looked young in the face, from what you could see given the slightly anxious expression he wore. Light patches of skin quite a few shades lighter littered him, dual colored eyes focusing on Tommy. His hair was like an extreme version of the man who was with Wilbur- yet instead of ginger there was black. As well as several patches of white as opposed to a single tuft. He was certainly a sight to behold and you swore you had never seen him before. You would have remembered him.

You pushed it aside, for now. You sought out the few other people you knew still. Dream was in a corner, arms crossed over his chest as he talked to a guard. You could tell it was a Kinoko guard, but couldn’t tell who. You tried to look harder to figure it out- you grew up with much of the guard- but it was pointless. His back was to you. It would be more worth it to continue your conversation with Technoblade. “You seem to have a lot of people doing favors for you.”

He huffed in laughter beside you, turning his attention from the people. Instead he watched you, amusement bright in brown eyes.”I’m the crown prince. Of course I have a lot of favors being done.”

“What type of favors?” You questioned, kicking your feet just slightly. You wanted to know. As much time as you spent training with Techno, you didn’t know what he did beyond that. He was still as much of a mystery to you as when he walked into Kinoko.

He shook his head, eyes flicking towards the people again. “Things I would prefer you to stay out of unless necessary. Instead of thinking about that, think about food.” You opened your mouth to complain but he was already waving a servant over, mentioning food to them. The boy nodded, turning to go fetch the food.

You let yourself focus on the food. You’d already tried pushing Techno on one subject today and had to leave it alone, you weren’t going to try a second one. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, either. Everything that had happened today had made you hungry. At least the food was good. You were still having to adjust to the amount of food too. Kinoko hadn’t been able to eat like this in quite some time. You wondered if George and Dream felt similarly to the food- though you were sure that Praelicentiam had since begun to send food over.

It was only when you had finished you truly began to wind down. So did much of the celebration. People left the room with stomachs full of wine and good food. You’d have to thank Nihachu for it. In the morning, though. She had already left with her girlfriend. You were eager to join the crowds of people leaving. You were ready to go to sleep. 

Which was a problem.

You had been taught for so much of your life what was expected of you on your wedding night. Your mom had made sure of that, unwilling to see her daughter get hurt in ignorance. Yet, it still had a weight settling in your stomach. A rock lodged in your throat. Why was it now that you felt the fear Dream was so insistent you felt? Was it because you didn’t know what to expect from Techno?

You couldn’t help but glance at him, fingers toying with your dress. You honestly hoped it was nothing like training. It made you wince, which pulled his attention to you instead. “Are you tired?” His voice was low. You hesitated, glancing towards the few people who still lingered. George and Dream had both left, as well as Tommy, Tubbo, and their tall friend. So few people were here now. You gave in and nodded. There was no point in sticking around. Techno stood up then, holding a hand out for you to take.

It was natural for you to let him lead you through the castle, despite you already knowing it pretty well. He seemed to want to make sure you got wherever you were going safely. The silence was crushing and tense. You almost felt like you were drowning in it. Could he hear the way your heart thrummed against your rib cage, or how your blood was roaring in your ears.

Yet he passed his chambers entirely, heading towards yours instead. It threw you off. Weren’t you supposed to consummate the marriage? Your confusion must have been evident, because he spoke softly, “You seem exhausted. Get some sleep.” A hand settled on your shoulder, squeezing softly. Then he leaned around you to open the door, leaving you to your thoughts and wondering why he had taken you to your room instead of his.

[themayonnaiseclinic]

The Pains of Sleeplessness

The following is a radio play I wrote for my RADIO DRAMA class in 2010. I wrote it as I was reading Dracula by Bram Stoker for the first time. It was meant to satirize Bram Stoker. I believe??? I literally haven’t read it since I wrote it. Is it good? I have no idea. Should anyone read it? Again, I have no idea. Why the heckin’ hey am I posting it, then?!! Because it’s been on my to-do list since summer since I started rereading Dracula b cos of Dracula Daily. ANNDDDD I wanted a few months ago, to contribute to the art and hoopla and fun of Dracula Daily, and this was/is still the best I’ve got?!????  I just gotta check it off my to-do list OKAY!!??!??! What is love, what is life, baby don’t hurt me!!!!!

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO (IF YOU ARE STILL READING THIS FAR GOD AND MINA NEE MURRAY HARKER BLESS YOU)

THE PAINS OF SLEEPLESSNESS

BY: MAYO CMEK, 2010

NARRATOR: It was midnight, and I had been walking, sleep-walking in a dreamy spot of haze. It was a shivery night under a full moon and a spot of immaculate, white, snow fall. I had just left the ‘Hairy Monk’ - a pub- although as I am not much fond of the drink, I had only one for myself. Make no mistake, the drink has had no effect upon these truthful accounts of which I am about to report to you. They are facts, and those of only the most gravest kind... [ominous pause] After meeting there with my childhood friend and long-time confidant Nick, I was making my silent way home through a dreary and patchy street of Brooklyn, New York. Washington Irving Avenue, I should think was the name of it, although under the brash hands of certain administration I have been made to understand that for “security purposes”, these locations and names must be altered to protect the privacy of the innocent individuals I chanced across. [cough slightly, as if unapproving] This paltry deed I shall do, and we shall instead refer to Washington Irving Avenue as ... Undead Avenue, which is more than appropriate and less than coincidence, as I shall hope to prove to you in time. And these individuals upon which I less than fortunately overheard are not quite the innocent that they may seem to be... [ominous pause, again.] A sound that most greatly resembled a vicious pounding of some plastic bag by the very mad and the very doomed, startled me from my dream-walking, and I looked up into a lit window and saw the waxen face of a brown, spiky haired young lady. Her hair was in utter disarray and she was standing by the open window. Why the window was open during this cold spell I am at a loss to answer, but perhaps, the ladies inside this room could not feel the harsh winds licking at their white skin, the way the rest of us with the lifeblood in our veins and beating hearts can... [another ominous pause.] BUNNY: Jump in bed, cover my head, Santa Claus is coming tonight. [speaks as if to herself, in a bored voice. Sound of hard body colliding with plastic wrapping that encases a newly purchased bed.] Night, Chinny. NARRATOR: I stopped to listen. Her tinkling voice, soaked in the most sorrowful of tragedies, appeased me as it was carried out the window on the crystalised, angelic Tears of God, each crafted in its own individual shape and harmony. Ah, snow, how it soothes me now to even write of your melodic spiraling. But, to the story, I must not stray. [pause.] It was also that name she mentioned: Santa Claus. It sounded familiar to me - perhaps a business associate, I thought at the time. Oh, if only I knew how sorely wrong I was, and how sorely I would pay for this pit-stopping, as they say in the States, from my good-hearted, Christian way. CHINCHILLA: A good night for you, sure. [plastic moves.] And Santa Claus isn’t even coming tonight what are you talking about. BUNNY: I’m only kidding. CHINCHILLA: He’s coming in six nights though I’m so excited! Bat brought me an early present home last night. I can’t waaaaait to play with him! WAIT. I’m going to go right now. BUNNY: What did you name him? CHINCHILLA: [throughout this speech, we hear BUNNY continously adjusting herself on the plastic.] Well, he already has a name, it said so on his tag on the crate, but I don’t really care. I don’t think we should limit him to just his name on the box, you know? He might have really special powers but we’ll see in a few days I guess. Since I can’t even see him during the day, ever. It’s like... I kind of think his name should be Robert, like after the hottest vampire in the world. [she huffs] I really wish we had HBO and True Blood. SANTA HELP ME AHHHHH. [hear her footsteps run out of the room] NARRATOR: Some people say we do enter freely upon these things, and of our own will, but at this point I was bewitched as if under some supernatural spell. Despite my good-headed nature and shivering fear at the brown-spiky-haired woman’s use of the word ‘vampire’, I could not take a step. The sound of the plastic - assumedly wrapped around the tender girl’s mattress, delivered freshly and neglected in the quiet, mysterious voice’s apparent exhaustion - was irksome on my muffled ears like a warning, and like the sound of frantic spoons scraping against my Grandmother’s fine China in the wash bowl it made my insides cringe. Their words and her face had piqued my intrigue however, and I could not walk away more than I could tell my Grandmother I wouldn’t make it to wash her treasured utensils the next day. Oh, the enchantments women have had over us mighty and masculine men! BUNNY: [plastic shifts, she is sitting up.] Hey, Chin, can your special powers like shut my door and light? Thanks. [more plastic noise.] CHINCHILLA: [from the other room] OH OF COURSE DUH. NARRATOR: As the room went black and the dark headed creature disapparated from sight, I could only see the prim snow blowing ever so gently inside the window - the winds had been snuffed with the light it seemed - and I wondered whether or not the harrowed voice inhabiting the room could feel it upon her brow as she tried to slumber. And what of these special powers, discussed so freely by the two curious girls? And the blood, of the truest red, that was wished to be brought with the aid of this Santa fellow? Santa, who was he and where did I know him from before? These questions plagued my freezing mind, my hat covered in heaven’s feather-like, white teardrops, and I still could not step - my body positioned like the stationary David, forevermore. And suddenly, the light and that ghastly head flickered in the window, back to life. CHINCHILLA: I’m not tired, I slept all day! SOoooOOooOOoo hungover. [she moans as the plastic shifts and BUNNY moves about, frustrated in her bed] And I think I’m going to name my little friend Pattinson. Because he kind of sparkles. Like hot vampires do. I wish I sparkled that would be so cool, and when I go out to hunt men I would like see all these guys and I would be sparkly and how could they look away?! BUNNY: [resigned plumping of the plastic.] CHINCHILLA: RIGHT?! [plastic does not reply.] NARRATOR: This girl posed herself as such a puzzle in my mind, and I fear that I can only now show my deepest regret in the failure of my wit to be called to action at that very moment. She was, I thought at the time, for such an animated and lubricious voice, a very pale and a very morbid looking face. She left the room with that so drained face, and the plastic wrinkled and wrangled underneath her dear friend’s poor, sleeping soul in her absence. The two girls, I thought, looked more painful than my poor Grandmother did, when I most accidentally and severely dropped her favorite purple tea pot onto my sturdy and fibrous foot, - and albeit covered and socked foot, due to a slight excess of hair on the utmost top that my Grandmother finds, in her worn and crude manners to be ‘retch-worthy’. [composing cough, as he comes to find this sentiment as embarassing and unnecessary as the listener does] The speaker forgives her of this, as youth cannot condemn age when he knows not the suffering of age. Still, we bleed. Where was this Santa fool to be when he was so direly needed and so desperately called for? CHINCHILLA: [sound of hard body flopping itself onto the plastic] Whore, why haven’t you taken the plastic off your bed yet it’s been like three days since you got it? BUNNY: I’m too tired. CHINCHILLA: [as she says this plastic bounces up and down with her animated movements.] YOU WEREN’T TIRED LIKE RIGHT AFTER SUNSET WHEN YOU ATE ALL MY BLOODY TOMATOES OUT OF THEIR CAN AND SUCKED THE JUICE ALL UP. You wolfed that shit down, girl. BUNNY: Oh, not really. Not yet. [scratches at the plastic, almost menacing.] CHINCHILLA: SO anyway, Pattinson Robert Cullen is not tired and we are going to go take a walk and maybe pick up some hotties. AW, balls, it’s still snowing out! I don’t want to get wet. Snow, go away! [plastic loosens as she gets up.] NARRATOR: A chill swept over me. A chill that had nothing to do with the divine snow still yet piling itself up onto my hat, almost like a Halo, a small ring of protection, and in retrospect now, I may attribute this holy sheathing to my fortunate escape. But rather, the chill came from the sudden termination of the snowfall, just as the brown-head cried it so. She stepped gracefully, but in this grace there was a sort of inhuman quality, a sort of malice that indulged in its own sleekness. She was at the window now, and I shuddered. [Silence for a short period of 10 seconds.] CHINCHILLA: Oh my God! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window! Look! NARRATOR: I was not peeing! [SUPER OFFENDED AND DEFENSIVE! then, regains his posure, and tries to be polite once more, with effort, but fails. Voice starts slightly composed but crescendoes as the speech goes on and is almost at an angry screech by “Hell”.] I mean to say, this Madam ‘Chinny’, was - a - liar. The falsehoods that she began to utter gave way to her unmasking, and they will only land her in the dankest pits of Hell! I, a refined man of upstanding valor, would not be caught even tempted by Satan to be relieving myself on the streets, in which the public so often take refuge. It would be a crime, a crime punishable by law. [remembers purpose of story, as he was somewhat side-tracked in his attack of CHINCHILLA and resumes his ominous tones.] And here, I will say, it is a crime. Much like the crimes, oh, the gruesome crimes the missus will commit. The crimes that I, being of such courageous heart, must have been preordained by God to witness and thus bear their splintering, wooden crucifix upon my back; the crimes that are yet to come...[ominous, foreboding, back in his thought-train.] BUNNY: What, oh, wow, cool. [not shifting, the plastic lies still.] CHINCHILLA: Did you HEAR ME?! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window. NARRATOR: [in a mumble, an undertone.] I still maintain I was very well not. CHINCHILLA: And now the snow’s all gross and yellow yuck. Did you hear me? Okay. I think he left. Or at least he’s crouched behind something like a little hunchback weirdo. NARRATOR: Excuse me, for I must interrupt. I would again, like to recall to the listener than certain words and events and names have been compromised. These words, slanderous words, are not what one first-hand historian would call fact-based. CHINCHILLA: GOD NARRATOR shut your stuffed pie hole and let me get on with the story! It’s my turn to talk. NOW Bunny, alright, alright. I’m sorry, I know I’ll let you have your little time to yourself sleep whatever you want to call it. Good night. [steps leaving. plastic rattles a little and BUNNY finally finds her resting place. All is still. Silence.] NARRATOR: [coughs, indignantly.] The stillness from the room above elicited a morose shiver down my spine. I moved my feet, the plastic sounds which intuited the movements of the body above moved in accordance with my steps. I say again, I was not in movement to relieve myself of excrement of any sort, rather, I had finally begun to understand the hellish fires that burned with the lights above, the lights above that the flakes of God could not even quell. It was then, in my course of circling below, crossing myself - and I am not as of usual a superstitious, flimsy, sort of man, by Jove - then I was able to see. God be with me, I thought. This Santa, I remembered then. I dredged up from my pool of ghastly memories; memories from catechisms and prayers whispered in hallowed spaces of Churches in towns of my travels; Santa was a man who wore only red, and visited the world only a single, grim, night a year. Saint, they called him. Saint of the red-nosed, Saint of the black, plastic bag in which gifts are carried to be given to those devoted to his pagan occult. Santa, was no doubt, a shorthand for Satan. ‘God be with me’, I said as I crossed myself from marble-smooth forehead to sinwey shoulder and back to the heart, the ‘bloody tomato’ that which these women so wanted to possess. These women, hardly can I speak of them as girls any longer, after I had enlightened as to what they were. Indeed, the white and waxen, star-crossed abominations: these women were of the militia of the Un-Dead. And HBO, why, I gathered then must have been another shorthand, standing for Human Blood (type) O. It was, at this point, clear to me what I must do. But before I could enact the plans that were bountifully blooming in my head, I heard the plastic shiver once more, and the brown-haired voice call out: CHINCHILLA: [calling from the other room, the plastic wrinkles softly.] HEY. BUNNY. That Aunt Jemima in the fridge, is that yours? Can I have some? NARRATOR: I prayed. Poor, poor Aunt Jemima, for whomever were her nieces and nephews, they would never be to look on her sweet face ever again. BUNNY: [sighs, and hits furiously the plastic covering her mattress.] CHINCHILLA: Does one hit mean yes and two no? Yes? BUNNY: [hits plastic once more.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic, harder this time, with both hands.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT?!! BUNNY: [kicks plastic furiously, hard, like beating a dummy or a scarecrow.] CHINCHILLA: ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I get it. Lots of hits means hell yes, take a chill pill. Good answer though. Thanks. Goodnight. [still, sounds of the plastic being rolled over upon and wrinkled and slapped can be heard outside the window.] NARRATOR: I saw the diabolical Miss walk into the room once more, she lit the room and so her face was, light and bright with a fervor that can only be inspired by a spiritual madness. She was about to drink, something dark, something thick, from a red-capped bottle. I had to strip my fine, leather mitten off and stuff it in my mouth to keep from screaming, much like my fine, dear, Grandmother had when I stumbled with my socked feet upon her lower back as she was performing some Coney Island, circus-like stunt she called ‘yoga’. I feel learned in my saying that the horror and sin of the drink the women were about to share - Oh, and mistake me not, for it was blood in the bottle, human, mortal blood - would have tormented any man to histrionics, even I, most lion in heart. Oh, their deviant, zoophagus longings made me want to cry out, screech like an owl out, to a God that I now doubt. CHINCHILLA: HEY. [plops on plastic.] This is so good. It’s like delicious and yummy and mmmm. Thanks so much I’m so hungry all the time every night lately. OH my god, I should see if Rober- [sounds of body hitting the plastic moving wildly, and being thrown about on it.] BUNNY: [makes grring and roaring and howling noises.] I am going to kill you! [plastic thrashes about wildly again and it is all we can hear.] NARRATOR: [still hear the playing around of the plastic in the background.] The flowing, red-head yet unseen reared, and I could look no more. I ran, and I ran, and I ran until my legs could run no more. The thrashing of the plastic and the hard, sensuous bodies atop it were a rattle of a coming death. Coming for me, coming for the ones I loved. And I ran, as any man must do in a position such as mine. I ran, far, to get away from those creatures of the so grotesque underworld in which all men of faith must abhor. [plastic thrashing quiets but does not fade away altogether.] And so here, and of the now, I abhor them; I yet again, cannot leave them. [bodies on plastic makes one more feeble turn, and then all is quiet, silence again. Hold for 5 seconds.] The girls, haunt my dreams. The cold faces and the dark, creamy red that they feast upon trickles down their dream-chins and they never let me sleep a wink. ‘How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.’*

As much as I pray, as much as a man may beg, that these events of this most potent evil had never happened to fall, plunking, onto my head, I must believe that there is a scientific order and purpose to all. Dear Listener, I implore you, take heed of my story. Do not walk the avenues alone, lest of all late in the hours of darkness, and believe with every piece of your innocent and God-fearing soul that these wicked monsters have not died, and will - nay - cannot die. And they will want you, and they will and very well haunt you, as they, every day that I have left on God’s greenest earth, haunt me.

And Grandmother, if you are listening, I will be home around seven, and your supper shall be prepared to sup upon around eight.

*quote comes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

[ray-ray-writings]

UMM THIS

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe24dvmM/

Im sorry I know you are packed and busy but can I make a request based on that video?? BECAUSE HOT DAM JUST WILBUR ENTERING LIKE

‘WHAT IS THIS I HEARD ABOUT HURTING Y/N AND TOMMY ‘

LOOK AT THAT VIDEO LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME YOU ARENT SIMPING TO THAT MAN

I simply cannot tell you that because it would be untrue because I am SIMPING so hard…. Also this was way longer and had a lot more plot than I originally planned so…. There’s that lol. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because it’s so long, this is going to be the only post tonight, my brain is a bit fried rn lol. Have a great night everyone!)

Warnings: Mentions of very quickly losing a lot of weight, it’s brief but it’s there. As well as, manipulation from Dream. At one point the reader is like “wow it’s been three days since you hit me… Thanks Dream!” And a few swear words here and there. 

Before Wilbur died, you and Wilbur were married. It absolutely broke your heart to watch the love of your life lose his mind (and then his life) for the nation that you and he created to raise and protect your boys in. But you stood by his side until the very end. You held his hand as he died and clutched his body with Phil once it was over. Ghostbur gave you somewhat of a shock. Because you’re husband was back, and he remembered you. He was the man you had married. The person he was before the presidency, before the war, before L’Manberg… You’re Wilbur was back. But you were still sad. You couldn’t hug him or kiss him like you were able to and although he seemed to be right in front of you, it felt like he couldn’t be farther away. Ghostbur can see this and decides that if he can, he really wants to try to come back to life. He tells his father and older brother about this and so they begin planning and researching. In doing this, they kind of accidentally turn a blind eye to what is happening to you and Tommy. 

While those three are figuring out how to bring Wilbur back from the dead, you and Tommy are being harassed by Dream. Something else you lost when you lost Wilbur was protection from Dream. For some reason, Dream was always afraid of Wilbur. Perhaps it was his ability to always stand up for what he wanted and fight for the things he loves… Or perhaps it was because he was Techno’s brother. Doesn’t matter. Point is when you lost Wilbur you lost the protection from Dream. Dream threatens you and Tommy, trying to provoke Tommy and trick him into doing stuff so that Dream could get him in trouble and one day it finally works. Dream tells Tommy where George’s vacation house is because he knows that Tommy cannot resist checking a place out and looking through other people’s stuff. So Tommy drags Ranboo over there and while they’re there they accidentally knock over a lantern and burn some of the house and some of the chests. On the other side of the server, Dream is in your home, poking fun at you for losing your husband and telling you that it was partially your fault and just stuff like that. You didn’t react. You never could when talking to Dream. But his words stung and slashed deep, and he knew it. Finally after a while of this, Tommy comes bursting through your front door, out of breath and seemingly panicked. “What’s the matter?” You ask softly, leaving your kitchen and going to comfort your boy. Tommy is about to spill everything but when he looks up he sees Dream and immediately swallows his words. “We were playing tag… That’s all… Tag” he says. You absolutely do not believe him but you catch his gaze and know that whatever he’s done he cannot say it in front of Dream. So you decide you’ll just have to wait…. You don’t have to wait long. 

“You burnt down George’s vacation home?” Dream’s deadly tone sounds from the kitchen. Your eyes widen and scan Tommy’s face and the look that overtakes him, you know it’s true. “I did not burn it down… I knocked over a lantern and a small fire broke out… I tried to repair everything, it’s fine.” Tommy insists. But Dream seems too pissed to listen to reason. “Come with me” he hisses, marching forward and snatching Tommy’s wrist tightly and marching out of the house. A small whimper left Tommy’s lips as he was pulled causing you to fly into a rage. “Let go of him!” you demand, chasing after them. Dream doesn’t listen and so you reach out and shove his shoulder causing him to stumble, let go of Tommy’s wrist and whip around to face you too. A chilling smile rests on his face, “Oh you just messed up big time.” Before you can react, he reaches out, grabs your wrist, grabs Tommy’s again and continues on down the Prime Path. You’d try to fight it but the grip on your wrist was just too strong. Dream pulls you to Tubbo and immediately jumps on the boy. He explains what happened as well as says that you assaulted him and that he wants you two exiled from L’Manberg or there will be hell to pay. Dream tells Tubbo he will start a war and will kill everyone and everything if his orders are not followed. You can tell Tubbo really doesn’t want to, but it’s something he has to do. Tubbo lets out a small sigh and nod, “Okay Dream. You win.” He murmurs, not looking at Tommy’s betrayed face. “Excellent choice, Mr. President,” the man spits out. “Tubbo” Tommy utters broken heartedly, staring at his best friend, silently begging him to say sike… It never comes. “Dream please escort Tommy and Y/N out of my country.” “With pleasure” You wrist is seized again and you’re being dragged away from your home. 

After you three get out of the SMP, Dream lets go of your wrists and lets you walk for yourself. You approach Tommy and wrap a comforting arm around him. “It’s going to be okay Tommy. Everything is going to be okay.” You comfort the young boy who sighs and nods, “I just can’t believe that he would throw me under the bus like that,” Tommy murmurs. “I know kiddo. I know.” You follow Dream for a very long time until he is satisfied that you are far enough away from the rest of the SMP. “Okay, we stop here… Put your stuff in this hole,” Dream commands, digging a small hole for the two of you to throw your stuff in. You let out a scoff and roll your eyes, “No way. You’ve already forced us into exile. There’s no way we’re giving you our stuff.” Dream’s face flushed a bright red before he lurched forward and grabbed you. Putting in a headlock to where you’re back was pressed against his chest, his arm around your throat while he has a crossbow to your head. “I’ve had enough of you fucking attitude Y/N. You have no power here. I do. I’m in charge and when I say to do something, you do it. If I ask you to jump, the only thing you may ask after that is “How high?” Do you understand?” You don’t speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of obedience. But then the tip of the arrow digs into the side of your head causing you to let out a small pained whimper, “I said, do you understand?” he demands again. “Yes” you finally whimper out. He moves the crossbow away from your skull and lets you go and shoves you forward, stumbling into Tommy who catches you and stabilizes you. “Put your stuff in the hole… Now” he growls, not in the mood for any more ‘games’. You and Tommy share a look and then a sigh and slowly put your things in the hole like he demanded. And you could only watch as he placed TNT above it and blew up everything. All of your items that you had worked hard for… Gone in a moment. Dream leaves with a cackle. You and Tommy are just there. Shocked. Finally, after a few moments, you’re able to shake yourself out of it. “Okay… Let’s get started, there’s no time to waste.” Tommy just looks at you and then he sighs and nods. “Let’s do it then.” The two of you spend the rest of the day gathering materials and building yourself a little shelter. You were all alone… At least you were all alone with your brother.

As we all know, Dream comes back almost every day. He comes back, blows up your stuff and leaves. The first time he came back you tried to stop him… It didn’t go well. “Dream, please he just-“ He cut off your words with a harsh slap across the face. It sends you flying and leaves your head spinning. “Haven’t you learned yet? Stuff. Hole. Now.” And you have no choice but to obey. You watch with a broken heart as Tommy slowly begins to actually trust Dream and believe him when he says that no one misses him. You do your best to be there for him and convince him that it’s not true but as days go by and no one, not even your Ghostbur, you can’t help but slowly believe that they’ve forgotten about you two. As time goes on, it seems that you and Tommy fade. You lose a lot of weight. Your food source is scarce and you have to do a lot of work because you’re restarting every. single. day. You get hurt a lot easier and it takes a lot more time to recover. Every once in a while, Dream will physically hurt you. Whether it a slap or a small sword slash, he does it just to make sure you still remember who’s in charge. You just learn to take it and deal with it. It hurts, but at least it’s you and not Tommy. Ranboo visits you once and is horrified at what he sees. He’s worried about you, but knows he can do basically nothing to help you. He makes a mental note to tell someone about it back in the SMP…. And even though he has memory problems, this is one thing he cannot forget. 

On the other side of the SMP, Philza, Techno, and Ghostbur have done it. They’ve cracked it. They have figured out how to bring Ghostbur back to life and to bring back Wilbur. The three make the plan and tell no one, especially not you. (Yeah…. They don’t even realize that you and Tommy aren’t around rn lol) They want to make sure this works before they tell anyone. So they do all the prep and the work and then they perform the ritual. They perform it in a cave somewhere just a little bit away from Techno’s house so that absolutely no one would know where they are or what they were doing. They begin just as nightfalls. Carefully completely each step and making sure they’re doing everything just right, knowing if they fuck up one small thing it’s over and they won’t be able to get Wilbur back. The three complete the final step and wait…. Nothing happens. “Fuck!” Techno curses, his eyes falling to the book, “We did everything right! It should have worked!” “Techno calm down, we’re all upset but at least we-” Philza doesn’t get to finish. All of the sudden a bright light floods the room. The light? It’s coming from Ghostbur. “Uhh guys?” the ghost questions in fear as he is levitated off the ground. Philza and Techno cannot look at him for fear of going blind. Ghostbur is unsure of what is happening but then the shredding pain fills his body. A scream rips from his throat as his whole form begins to physicalize. The skin begins to become real as the bones, blood, organs, and all other internal body parts forms. All memories that Ghostbur had forgotten flood Wilbur’s mind as his whole life flashes before his eyes, reminding him of everything. It only lasts a few moments more before the light fades and Wilbur is dropped from the air. His body hits the ground with an extremely harsh thump. He feels the impact and lets out a groan. His whole body is sore… But he’s there. He’s real and most importantly he’s alive. “Wilbur?” Philza asks hesitantly. Wilbur lets out another groan. The two standing men share a look before rushing to his side. They kneel beside him and gently reach out. Don’t tell anyone but tears threaten to fall from both men’s eyes, Philza and Techno’s, as their hands actually are able to touch Wilbur and they don’t go through him as if he were a ghost. They gently help him from his side to laying on his back. At the movement, Wilbur opens his eyes and is met with the tear laced ones of two of his family members. “Hey guys” he manages to croak out, “how’s it going” “Wilbur” Philza breaks, a tear streaming down his cheek before he lurches forward and wraps the boy into a warm hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” the older man sobs to his son. “Shhhh,” Wilbur calms his father, “It’s okay Dadza. I wanted it. You did what you had to do. It’s okay.” To the two’s surprise’s Techno’s buff arms wrap around the two and join in the hug. “It’s uhhh… it’s good to see you Wilbur” Techno grumbles, not really liking the emotion that had built up in his chest. Wilbur let out a soft laugh, “Good to see you too Tech.” 

The sweet moment is broken by someone calling Techno’s name a little ways away from the cave. At first, they elect to ignore it, but then the voice calls again, this time for Philza and they can tell now that whoever it is, is panicking. So the two help Wilbur up and gently help him out of the cave. They look out over the snow and find Ranboo there, standing on Techno’s front porch. “Ranboo!” Techno calls out causing the tall boy to turn around and then run at them. “Techno! Phil!.... Is that Wilbur? Like actual real Wilbur? He’s alive?” Ranboo asks, his tone still slightly panicked. “Yes Ranboo… It’s a long story but to sum it up we managed to bring Wilbur back to life… Now why are you here and why are you panicked.” Ranboo’s eyes shift back to Wilbur and gulps, “I knew you weren’t going to like this… But now you’re really not going to like this… Dream is hurting Y/N and Tommy…” All three, especially Wilbur, snap to attention at that. “What?” Wilbur asks harshly. Ranboo gulps and nods before diving into his story. He tells them about your exile and how Dream has been treating you two, blowing up your stuff and even physically harming Y/N. He tells them that Dream has the two convinced that nobody cares about them anymore. The three go stiff at that. Have they all been so focused they really missed all of this? Well time to go right some wrongs. It is almost as if all ache and tiredness left Wilbur’s body at the thought of his spouse being hurt, especially at the hands of Dream. He straightens up and takes a few steps toward Ranboo, “Take them to us” he speaks, his tone pretty damn dark. Ranboo nods and quickly turns around and leads the three men back to the exile spot. 

Back in exile, you and Tommy built a house… Logsted! It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it made Tommy happy so you lived in it together. You had woken up, actually feeling kind of good. The bruises and nicks on your face had slowly begun to heal and Dream hadn’t hit you in the past three days. You had a nice dinner last night, you and Tommy had found some chickens and made a small chicken farm a little ways away from the house so that way Dream couldn’t easily find it, but point is you had chicken for dinner… that’s what I was getting at… I’ll move on. So long story short, you were feeling good. The sun had risen and so Tommy and you were just kind of waiting for Dream to show up so you could get the daily blowing up over with. And like clockwork, he shows up, but for some reason he’s angry. For the past couple days he’d actually be pleasant to be around, greeting you asking you how you’ve been. But today was different. He slammed the door open and begins digging a hole in the middle of Logstedshire… That’s really weird. He was going to blow up the stuff inside the house? No way. But he points to the hole and you know he wants you to dump your items in. You move to the hole but don’t throw your stuff in, “Inside the house? Can we please go outside, I don’t want to ruin our hard work” wrong thing to say. A growl escapes Dream’s lips as he reaches forward and slaps you hard across the face, harder than he’s ever slapped you. It is enough to make you dizzy, but you don’t even have time to recover because his hand is in your hair, yanking it back forcing you to look at him. “You stupid bitch. You would think that after all this time, you would have learned by now… I mean you were doing so so well. But it just seems that you never learn your lesson… Guess I’ll have to teach you yet again.” And he pulls out his sword and points it at your stomach, ready to slice you again. Just as he’s about to harm you, the door swings open again and someone stumbles in. They lean against the doorframe with their hand grabbing the top of the frame. You can hear Tommy let out a gasp and you watch Dream’s eyes widen in fear. “So Dream,” an all too familiar voice calls, “What’s this about hurting Y/N and Tommy now?” And then you’re let go by Dream. You crash to the ground, fall flat on your ass, but you manage to scramble to a stand as you stare at the door frame in complete... Shock? Amazement? Fear? You can’t tell. You’re husband, Wilbur, is standing there in the flesh. Literally in the flesh. He’s alive again and you cannot believe it. “Wilbur” Dream stutters out, “You’re alive? How-” “That doesn’t matter, Dream. What matters is the fact that you’ve been hurting Y/N and Tommy… We can’t have that. So now what is going to happen is I’m going to take my family back to L’Manberg and you are never going to hurt them again,” Wilbur announces, moving ever so slightly further into the room. Seeming to have recovered just a bit from shock, Dream actually retorts, “Or what?”. Two more people enter the house and it causes Dream to blanch even further. “I think you know what… now run along.” Not wanting to risk it, Dream takes off running. 

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to speak. “Wilbur?” You whisper out, still not sure if this is real or if you’re dreaming. Wilbur’s attention shifts to you and he completely soften. “Hello,” he greets with a soft smile on his face, taking a few steps toward you, “Have you missed me?” Deciding you don’t care if he’s real or not, you rush forward and throw yourself into his arms. You, like Philza and Techno, almost cry at the feeling of your body’s connecting. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s alive. His arms wrap around you and hold you to him so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. But you don’t care. You’re hugging your husband. You’re actually hugging your husband. “I missed you so much, Wilby. I mean we had Ghostbur but it wasn’t the same. I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulders, the tears slowly falling out of your eyes. His hand comes up and slowly pets your head, in silent comfort and reassurance. 

After a few minutes you pull away slightly, “How are you-” You’re cut off by his lips pressing against your and you cannot help but melt. It has been months since his passing and this was just the absolute best feeling in the world. You kiss back with so much passion it makes your head spin, this time in a good way. It’s also probably the only time ever his brother’s didn’t fake vomit at the sight of you kissing. You only pull back to catch a breath, but right as you breathe in, Wilbur’s lips are back on yours. The process repeats a few times, before you manage to breathe out a “Will,” causing him to pull back, but leaving his forehead resting on yours and his lips just hovering above yours. “Yes my love,” he mumbles to you. “Can we go home please” you ask, not wanting to be here at Logstedshire any longer. He gives you a warn grin, leaning the inch forward and kissing you once more before giving his answer. “Of course my love. Let’s get out of here.” 

[petersasteria]

hope ur ok || holland!reader

sour masterlist || holland!reader || sour taglist

3,637 words tw: sad shit bc spoiler: someone dies, italics are flashbacks, bold is a letter i don't have a holland reader banner so i used the olivia banner instead. also, sorry for the delay of posting this lmao

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You were in your room, sitting on your bed as your eyes looked around. Your room was painted your favorite color and it made your brothers jealous because their rooms were painted white, it was boring. Yours had posters, polaroids of you and your siblings, fairy lights, a bean bag chair, and a simple full body mirror. You heard a knock on your door and you looked to see that it was Tom smiling brightly with a plate of your favorite cookies.

“Hey.” He said softly as he entered the room and shut the door behind him with his foot while balancing the plate of cookies in his hands.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Sam kicked me out of the kitchen, but I was there first and fortunately, I finished the cookies on time. I hope they taste alright.” Tom said as he sat beside you, the plate of cookies in between you.

“They smell good, so you did a good job.” You chuckled. Tom took one cookie and looked at you, “Taste test.”

He took a bite and chewed it a few times before saying, “It tastes alright. It’s not like how Sam makes it, but I’m not Sam. I’m Tom.”

Both of you erupted into a fit of giggles as you talked about random things. The plate of cookies were now on your bedside table and only half of the cookies were eaten.

“Hey, how’s your friend?” Tom asked casually. Both of you were laying on your bed, facing the ceiling.

“Which friend?”

“The blond one who had one hell of a musical talent.” Tom said. “He used to come here and play on Sam’s piano.”

“Oh, James! I don’t really know what happened to him. We, uh, fell out of touch.”

“I see.” Tom said. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Same here.” You told him. “My friend, Madeline, got a scholarship last time I checked. She got accelerated in school and she got to attend uni ahead of us. I’m really proud of her, y’know?”

“Where is she now?” Tom asked.

You looked at Tom with sorrow in your eyes. He glanced at you and he could see how hurt you were. “We don’t talk...anymore. We used to. She’s basically like a sister to me, but we don’t talk anymore. Regardless, I’m really happy for her and I miss her. Wherever she is, I hope she’s alright.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door and Tom sat up quickly. The door opened and revealed Sam. “Hey, it’s time to eat dinner. You’re washing the dishes tonight, Tom!” Sam said before leaving.

“That little shit.” Tom laughed. “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s eat!” He got up from your bed and you followed suit with worry and concern in your eyes. You shook your head and shrugged it off. What you’ll say can wait.

Both of you went down to join everyone on the dining table. You sat in your usual seat, but didn’t contribute in the conversation. You were just happy to be there. You looked around and saw how happy your brothers were. You looked at your parents and saw them smiling. It was a beautiful sight to see. After all, all you wanted was for them to be happy. They deserve to be happy.

Harry and Tom cleaned up as you watched them help each other. “Next time, we should cook Y/N’s favorite dinner.” Tom said. Harry looked at him and shrugged, “Why not? I never liked it, but I’m sure she’d appreciate it very much.”

The next few days were spent with Tom. He never left your side and he made sure you were alright. You were the youngest and as the eldest Holland child, he made it his job to look after you. He wasn’t close with you before, but somehow as you grew older, it changed. Tom was now excited to spend time with you. He loved talking to you and he loved laughing with you. In his opinion, you make his stress and worries fade away.

Your birthday is coming up and he wanted everything planned out. He already had plans, actually. He knew what cake you wanted, he knew what decorations to put up, he planned the food, and he even had a theme in mind. He was really prepared. Paddy had to go with Tom in town just to buy balloons. Tom was really going all out.

“Are you going to help me set up tonight? Y/N’s birthday is tomorrow and I want her to be surprised when she wakes up. I can already imagine her face.” Tom smiled excitedly as he parked the car in the driveway.

“I can’t help you tonight. I have homework.” Paddy said as he looked at Tom who just shrugged. “Alright. No problem. Stay in school, Pads.” Tom smiled before exiting his car with Paddy following him.

They walked in and Tom saw you sitting on the arm of the couch with Sam and Harry. Tom smiled at the sight. “Hey, guys!” He greeted, causing the three of you to look at Tom and Paddy.

“Wow, you went shopping for a lot of things.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Sam asked with a grin.

“Nothing.” Tom smirked. “I’ll put these in my room.” Tom left and went upstairs to his room as Paddy walked to the couch and sat next to you. You looked at Paddy and smiled. You weren’t close with him, but you loved him dearly. You were only one year younger than him and he was always kind to you and you liked hanging out with him.

You looked at Sam and Harry and you held back a chuckle as you watch them annoy each other. It was a lovely sight to see.

Night time came and dinner was over a few hours ago. You were just standing in your backyard feeling the wind blowing and you knew that something was about to happen. You just didn’t know what. The backdoor opened and you turned around to see Tom with a small smile.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s cold.” He said as he tugged his jacket closer. He walked towards you and stood beside you. “What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, “Nothing. I guess I’m just tired. I think I’ll rest now.”

Tom nodded. He suddenly remembered his plan and said, “Yeah, you can go upstairs now. I, uh, prepared your room.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him. You walked towards the back door and stopped to turn around to look at Tom. He was already looking at you and you said, “I- Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” He smiled sweetly. You opened the door and walked in and went straight up the stairs to your room.

Tom stayed outside for a minute before walking in. He locked the back door and went to the living room where his brothers were. “Hey, guys! Ready to decorate?” Tom asked with a huge smile on his face. It was evident that he was excited.

“What’re you talking about?” Sam asked, looking at Tom with a confused face.

“Yeah, what’s happening?” Paddy questioned.

Tom scoffed and crossed his arms, “How could you guys forget?! It’s our sister’s birthday tomorrow and you guys aren’t preparing at all!”

Tom was yelling as the rest were looking at him sadly. Sam’s eyes were clouded with tears as he looked at Tom. Harry and Paddy looked at Sam, not wanting to be the ones to remind Tom. Sam sighed and closed his eyes and his tears fell. He wiped his tears and opened his eyes to face Tom.

“Tom, mate, she’s dead.” Sam said softly. “She’s been dead for two months now.”

“W-What are you talking about?” Tom shook his head slowly. He looked away from Sam and he saw you standing behind Sam. “She’s right there, Sam! She’s literally right behind you! How can you not see it?!”

“Tom, stop! She’s gone, okay?!” Harry exclaimed. “Y/N’s not here! She won’t be here anymore and it’ll be that way forever. We just have to accept that.”

“It was leukemia, Tom. She didn’t make it and we had a funeral and everything.” Paddy said softly.

You were confined in the hospital for about a week now and you were getting weaker and weaker as the days went on. Your family was trying to be positive, but all of you knew that it was your time to go. Before you were confined, you had written letters for them to read after you die and it was now hidden in their drawers.

Tom and Harry weren’t there when you passed because they were in a different country. They immediately went home when they heard the news. All of you knew that you weren’t going to make it, but all of you ignored that fact. Everyone except Tom was grieving. He held his mother as she cried and he stayed strong for his brothers. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his brothers slept in one room and he hated that they chose to do it again as soon as you were gone.

It was like a sleepover. They all talked about you and everything you did that the others didn’t know about. Turns out, you had secrets you shared with everyone except Tom.

“Wait, she told you guys about her secrets?” Tom asked that night.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, eyes bloodshot from all the crying. “If something happens to her, she tells the first person she sees.”

“She never told me anything.” Tom stated.

“That’s because you’re the eldest. No one tells people about themselves to the eldest sibling.” Paddy answered.

“That’s unfortunate.” Tom frowned. “I wish I knew the things you knew.” He added.

“It’s alright, Tom. She didn’t have major secrets, anyway. Besides, she was just scared to tell you. That’s why she did that.” Sam explained.

Tom couldn’t sleep that night as he looked at his brothers. They were cuddled up next to each other and were fast asleep. Tom couldn’t help but think of you before finally drifting off. Days later, it was the funeral. The whole house was quiet and while your mum, Nikki, would appreciate it, for once in her life she wanted the noise. She wanted to hear boisterous laughing, heavy footsteps running up and down the stairs, yelling, the sound of Sam cutting vegetables, Dom’s loud typing, Paddy talking to his friend on the phone, Harry telling you to wake up and calling you a lazy bum for not being productive, and Tom playing with Tessa outside. Now, there was none of that.

When a husband or wife dies, the one they left behind is called a widow. When a child dies, what do you call their parents? No one’s ever come up with a word for that yet because it’s too painful to think about. You were young and you deserved all the best life has to offer. Nikki was devastated, but she knew that wherever you were, you aren’t in pain anymore and that was enough for her.

Tom wanted to scream, but he didn’t. He was numb. After the funeral, he and Harry decided to take a break from traveling to spend time with the rest of the family. He stopped working for a while and everyone understood that.

When they got home, Tom went straight to his room and cried. He cried and cried until no tears came out. His head ached, but he didn’t want to get up and get himself a glass of water. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table to ask Harry, but his phone died. Tom scoffed, sat up, and reached the drawer of his bedside table. He leaned over to look for his phone charger, but he saw a letter instead. It had his name on it and he realized that it was your handwriting. Tom quickly grabbed it and put his phone back on the bedside table. He opened the envelope and read what you wrote for him.

Dear Tom,

Hi. When you read this, you know that I'm gone. I'm sorry that we never got to bond a lot. I guess it's my fault because I was so scared of you. Despite that, I want you to know that I'm really happy for you and I'm proud of you.

You're my inspiration and please know that I'm very proud to be your sister.

I don't know where I'll end up when I'm gone, but please don't worry about me. I'll be okay, I can feel it. I'll just go where the wind takes me.

You're a kind person for the whole time I've known you. I'll miss everything and I'll miss your pranks and jokes. Please never stop doing those just because I'm gone. I hope you think of me whenever you tell a joke or pull a prank on Harry again.

I wish we bonded more. I wish we made cookies until Sam kicked us out of the kitchen because he needed to prepare for dinner. I wish we watched movies together and I wish we spoke often.

I'll miss you all the time and I love you. So much. Never forget that.

Your sister,

Y/N/N x

Tom cried again until he slept with the letter resting on his chest. The next morning, he got up to go to your room. He dreamt of you and he wanted to tell you about it. He glanced at the door and noticed that it was unlocked. He slowly opened it and to his surprise, he saw you standing there watching everyone outside from your window.

“Y/N.” Tom said.

You turned around and smiled at him, “Hey, Tom.”

“I dreamt of you! And in my dream, you were a ballet dancer. We did ballet together. Wouldn't that be something? It could be a bonding thing for us." Tom said with a big smile as he fully entered your room. All of a sudden, he forgot about your sickness, your death, your sickness. From an outsider's point of view, it was a sad sight to see. He was clearly in the denial stage.

Harry was on his way downstairs when he heard a voice coming from your room. He quietly opened the door and saw Tom excitedly talking to thin air.

"You know, I'm not doing anything anytime soon. Why don't we go out? It'll just be you and me, Y/N." Tom smiled. Harry's heart broke upon hearing this. His older brother was imagining their dead sister. Harry kept it to himself because he thought that Tom was coping that way.

It wasn't until Sam witnessed the same thing. Tom was in the kitchen and he was talking to thin air once more. Sam watched as Tom laughed and said a bunch of things. Sam kept it to himself too.

Paddy, however, was different. He went to Harry and Sam's room, unannounced. He closed and locked the door behind him as the twins looked at him in confusion.

"Okay, I can't be the only one to notice it." Paddy said with arms crossed.

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Tom." Was all Paddy said. The twins looked at each other before looking back at Paddy.

"What about him?" Sam asked, his eyebrows were raised a bit.

"Tom told me that he'll bake Y/N's favorite cookies tomorrow because Y/N said she was craving for it." Paddy explained.

"I saw Tom talking to thin air the day after the funeral. He was in Y/N's room." Harry confessed.

"I saw him doing that too, but he was in the kitchen this time. I'm worried about him." Sam said.

"What should we do?" Harry asked with a frown on his face.

"Let's just let him be for a while. Let’s just intervene when it gets out of hand.” Sam decided as the other two nodded.

They just let Tom be until they had enough.

Tom couldn't believe what his brothers were telling him. He felt sick to his stomach. His baby sister was gone and the thought of it ate him alive. He shook his head and Sam said, “Tom, everything will be alright. We’ll get through this together. We’ll be fine.”

“That can’t be true. I’ve been speaking to her. Stop fucking lying.” Tom cried.

“Tom, wake up! She’s not here, alright?! She’s not in her room anymore. Her things will forever be untouched and her books will be dusty. Her phone hasn’t been charged since she died and it’ll stay that way. All we have left are pictures, videos, and memories of her. We should accept that because no matter what happens, we can’t bring her back!” Harry said as his voice was raised.

“Just go to bed, mate. You’re tired.” Paddy said softly. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Tom wiped his tears and went up to his room, slamming the door. He went to sleep and dreamt of you again. Both of you were on top of a small hill and the wind was blowing softly.

“Why can’t they see you?” Tom asked you.

“Because I only showed myself to you. I know that we haven’t been really close and I figured you’d want some kind of closure. In truth, I’m only here because of you. The light has been calling me and they want me to leave already, but I can’t because I know you’d be sad. I hate seeing you sad.” You explained.

“Then stay here.” Tom begged, but you shook your head.

“You need to let me go, Tom. It’s time. I can’t stay here forever.” You chuckled lightly.

“I just- I feel like nothing. When you were around, I felt like I had a purpose. Now, I just wish I could be with you.” He admitted.

“Don’t say that. Imagine how everyone will react if you’re gone. They’ll be upset. I’m so proud that you’re alive and well because you’ll get to go on with life and grow old. If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. Live the life I never got to live. Trust me when I say that you’ll be happier when you move on.”

“I don’t want to forget you and I don’t want you to think that we’re having fun without you.” He said.

“I won’t think that way because all I ever wanted for all of you is to be happy and healthy. I love you and I miss you, but I want you to have fun and to keep doing everything you love. Don’t stop because I’m gone. Don’t let me be a hindrance because that’ll make me sad and I’ll haunt you forever.” You said as Tom chuckled. “Besides, you don’t have to forget about me. I’ll always be in your heart.”

“Alright.” Tom said. “I think I’m ready to let you go.”

You smiled and nodded as you walked away and stepped into the light. Tom shouted, “Happy birthday, Y/N!”

You looked back and smiled. With that, he knew you were thanking him not just for greeting, but also for everything.

Tom woke up and it was already morning. He decided to get ready and to head to the cemetery. He walked downstairs and saw his brothers eating breakfast.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked before eating his cereal.

“The cemetery. It’s Y/N’s birthday.” Tom said. “I’ll go now. I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”

Tom left and the drive to the cemetery was short and quiet. He parked the car and walked to your grave. He smiled when he saw a small, framed picture of you that Harry placed there not too long ago. He sat in front of your grave and smiled, “Hey, Y/N. I know you can hear me.”

“I guess I did look crazy for a while and I now understand how everyone felt. I, um, I read your letter. I’m sorry too, y’know? I’m sorry I never made the effort to spend time with you. I guess it’s because all my life, I’ve only known about having brothers and when you came along, I didn’t know how to act. But I’m really happy that I got to see you grow up and I’m happy with our few moments together.”

“When you were five, I was fourteen. It’s a wide gap and I remember being so annoyed because your toys were everywhere.” He chuckled at the thought. “Regardless, I loved you and I still do. I’m happy that you grew up to be kind and loving. I’m really fucking happy for that.”

“In your letter, you said that I shouldn’t worry about you. Y/N, I’m sorry, but I can’t promise that. I’m your older brother and that automatically makes me sort of like a second parent especially when mum and dad aren’t around. So, I’ll always worry about you even though I know you’re okay and not in pain.”

“I do, however, promise to always dedicate my pranks to you. I know you’d love that. I’d wish that we bonded, but we already did that. You gave me a chance to get to know the sister I never got to know and that, above all, makes me so happy and grateful. That’s enough for me.”

“I don’t want to say cheesy shit and ask for guidance. I don’t want to burden you in heaven. Like, it’s called a resting place for a reason and I want you to rest easy. I just want to say that I miss you so much and I love you. Happy birthday.” He finished.

Just then, he felt the wind blow in his direction and he knew that you were okay.

* * * *

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @celestialholland @alinastarkrovs @piscesparker @prancerrparkerr @spideyspeaches @givebuckyhisplumsnow @blueleatherbag @theonly1outof-a-billion @hollandbroz-n-haz @starlight-starks @webmeupspiderdaddy @studiesinspanish @bi-lmg @minejungwoo @blossomhollands @markhyucksmells @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch

[anxious-allie-ren]

Hey everyone! I’d like to introduce the new story I am writing! You can find it on both my AO3 and Wattpad. Both of which are linked in my bio. But I’ll also be posting the chapters here for you all. Be easy on me as I haven’t quite figured out how to post chapters on here and create a master list. That is something I will be working on. Alright, now in to the good stuff.

Erota

As the only daughter from a high society family, the pressure is on you to impress the ton and find a suitable match. You hope to find love, but your fate is decided for you. Your marriage is arranged to King Kylo of Chandrila. Pain and tough decisions are soon to follow.

This story is inspired by Bridgerton and regency era.

Hello everyone! I have been dreaming of writing this fic for a bit now and finally gathered the courage to do it! Like I said in the description, this story is heavily influenced by the regency era and the Netflix show Bridgerton. I've done my best to keep it accurate to both the era and the Star Wars world. I hope you enjoy!

The Ton.

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The season has finally arrived. You have officially joined the ton and are coming out into society. The debutantes of higher society are to be presented in court. This now includes you and your family.

You were the only child of the Duke of Selonia. A small territory southeast of Drall within the kingdom of Corellia. It's a quaint little area, nothing to brag about. It was cozy and calm. Many of the families had lived in the area for generations. Neighbors all knew each other. But despite its comfort and kindness it was lacking funds.

Since you had been able to remember, life was very simple. You helped in the gardens, the kitchens, and even with the laundry work. Your family took trips to town often, visiting with the people. Your mother loved to stop at the bakery and buy pastries to bring back to the estate. She told you stories from her childhood as bedtime stories. Coming from a common family and marrying into high society. Your parents married for love and not statues. Many scolded your father for marrying "below his station" but he let their words roll off his shoulders. He was attracted to your mother for her beauty, kindness, and capabilities. Your mother was no stranger to hard work, and she assured you weren't as well.

As you matured, you watched as your home aged as well. Bricks began to weather with time and vegetation started to take over. Farmers had less success each year and businesses were closing. The help your father was once so quick to provide had now dwindled into nothing. There was no help to give. The funding was nearly gone. After your mother's death, the strong and reliable man you had once called your father was gone. What replaced him was a shell of a man. He gave up on his duties as a duke and instead threw his time and money into bad habits. Gambling and drinking had become his crutch.

You lost your mother in your adolescence. Still a young girl so in need of a mother and her guidance. Her death left you confused and in desperate need of comfort. You tried to lean on your father. But in his own grief, he seemed to forget about you. Instead, you turned to your community. The maids and butlers became your family. They ensured your schooling would continue. The men even went as far as to teach you math and science. When you entered your teens, you attempted to take on the dukedom in secret. You went over all the documents and finances, trying to find a way to help your people and restore your estate. It was to no avail. Nothing could be done without your fathers signature. So you were left with no choice but to let it go. You focused on your studies and lessons with the maids. They helped bring you to maturity. Now, it was time to join society as an eligible woman.

Marriage has been heavy on your mind for many years now. The idea of meeting a man and marrying just for statues or titles didn't interest you. Neither of those things mattered to you. A marriage had become something with such a negative connotation. But love, now that was very different. You yearned for a true love match. You craved a deep connection unlike any you'd ever experienced. As a child, you'd developed small crushes on some of the neighborhood children. The butterflies and blushed looks were something you understood. But you'd never felt love before. You loved your family of course. You even loved your townspeople. But that was so different from what you hoped to find.

Becoming a debutante was not something you were looking forward to. Joining the ladies of high society was only asking for drama. But as the daughter of a Duke, it was your duty to join the ton and find a suitable husband. This had become increasingly important as your territory lost more and more money to your father's lifestyle. These thoughts scrambled around your mind as you got ready. You would be heading to the first ball of the season, your entrance into society, in moments. You were dressed in your nicest items. A deep red ball gown embroidered with golden florals along the bottom of the skirt and corset. Your hair was pinned back, allowing your face to stand out. Your maid, Jillian, was helping you put on your shoes as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Jillian had been with your family before your mother passed. She had watched you grow from a pained child to a strong young woman. She was with you every step of the way. Jillian became a motherly figure and your most trusted confidant.

Jillian pats your calf as she begins to stand, finished with clasping your heels. Her touch pulls you from your thoughts. You give her a polite smile and thank her, turning back to the mirror. Your anxiety is growing with each tick of the clock and in typical Jillian fashion, she can sense your discomfort. She comes to stand behind you, adjusting the pins in your hair.

"You know you're prepared for this. There's no need to sit and worry."

You meet her gaze in the mirror, her gentle blue eyes giving you a wave of comfort. You let out a sigh and play with your fingers.

"I felt prepared, but now that it's upon me, I'm not so sure. So much is at stake here, Jillian. The people of Selonia are relying on me to find someone who can help. What if I'm not up to standards?"

Jillian only chuckles at your words and places her hands on either of your shoulders.

"Standards? Now you're just being silly. You are a kind, intelligent, and strong young lady. Any suitor would be lucky to have you as his wife."

You turn to look at her, face scrunched in concentration.

"That's exactly the issue! It can't just be any suitor. They need to be able to fix dukedom and be the love I've been waiting for. What if that's unrealistic? How can I ever find someone to do both?"

Jillian places a comforting hand on your cheek, her thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone. She gives you a small smile before she speaks.

"Is that what you're so worried about? Dear, you're placing too much stress on yourself. Don't worry about the dukedom or Selonia. Go and find your love, everything else will fall in place."

You lean into her hand and smile, her words bringing you peace and a newfound sense of confidence. She pulls her hand away and turns towards your bedroom door. She calls back to you, "Now let's get you going! It's time."

————————————————

The carriage stopped in front of the King's summer estate. Many of the guests were already walking up the grand entrance and making their way inside. Your father hurried around and opened the door for you, holding his hand out and helping you down. Tonight he was doing his best to look and act presentable. You place your hand in his bent arm and let him lead you into the ball. Neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other in years. You were surprised he even accompanied you tonight. His presence only made you nervous again. You weren't sure what his intent was by coming. Was he finally stepping back into his positions as father and Duke? Or was there some ulterior motive?

You found out quickly as he leaned in to speak to you, just as you were arriving at the entrance of the ballroom.

"I am expecting you to perform well tonight. I want to see gentlemen callers of high status calling on you tomorrow."

You look up at him and furrow your brows in confusion. So this is what he came for? To ensure you schmoozed with the highest titles with the most money? If so, he's going to be very disappointed.

"I'm here to find a reasonable suitor for myself, father. Not a suitor for you and Selonia."

He stops walking at your words, his head turning to look down at you. You can see his clenched jaw and anger in his eyes. His distaste for your words is written all over his face.

"Stop with your foolish girly fantasy of a love match. You're here to do as I say, and I'll be damned if you disobey me."

His words sting your heart. Your father had never spoken to you this way. When you were young, he was always so gentle and loving towards you. Now it seems you're just another pawn to be thrown around his chessboard as he pleased. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your gaze back down. Now was not the time to worry about this. You had more pressing matters.

You allowed your father to lead you to the entrance, stopping to allow the announcer to get your names. You took a deep breath as you prepared to face the ton. First impressions were everything, and you did not want to screw this up. The announcer clears his throat and stands at attention. Everyone in the room stops what they're doing to await the next debutante.

"Presented by her father, the Duke of Selonia, Miss Y/F/N."

You stare forward as your father leads you into the ballroom and towards the King and Queen of Corellia. You both stopped before them, your father unlinking your arms and bowing. You fall into a curtsy, bowing your head in respect. Your father stands back up and looks to the king. You stay still, awaiting the command to move. The king of Corellia rises from his throne and moves to stand in front of you. Everyone holds their breath, watching closely to see what unfolds. He places a gentle finger under your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze.

"Stand up for me, dear. You can relax."

You do as he says and stand quickly, giving him a polite smile as you return his intense eye contact. His finger never leaves your chin. He smiles back at you and begins to speak again.

"You are a true beauty, my dear. You know, they say the eyes are a window to the soul. I can see the love and strength living within yours. Hold onto that, they will be your biggest asset."

Your eyes widen at his words. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

"Thank you, your majesty."

With that, he removes his finger from your chin and climbs back to his throne. He turns his attention back to the room and declares, "Let the festivities continue."

Your father grabs ahold of your arm again and leads you away from the thrones. You can feel the crowd staring at you, but you can't find it in you to care. King Luke of Corellia spoke to you! Not only that, but he complimented you. This was a great honor bestowed on very few. You would take his advice to heart.

It seems your father had a different perspective. He leads you to a table with dance cards placed neatly in rows. You begin to search for your name as he smirks and begins talking.

"Compliments from the king will help greatly in gaining potential suitors. You'll be the most desired lady in the ton. Seems finding you a husband of high title will be easier than I thought."

You finish tying the card to your wrist and turn to look at the room. Your father continues to talk as you observe your surroundings. You look up at the elegant chandelier. It shines beautifully in the light, casting sparkles all over the room. You watch as they dance across the guests, creating an angelic and light atmosphere. A waiter comes by and offers you and your father glasses of champagne. You take a small sip and return your attention to the crowd. Many of the ladies are giving you glares or speaking with the eligible men in attendance. You take notice of their attire. Many have much more elegant gowns and jewels on. Their appearance shows how much they have to offer. Your feelings of inadequacy begin to creep back in. You don't even notice a man approaching.

Your gaze stops on a young man across the room. His dark brown curls and bright smile grabbed your attention. He was speaking to another man, seeming to be in deep conversation. His face was so expressive as he spoke, hands moving about to help prove whatever point he was trying to make. You couldn't help but be captivated by him. If there was anyone you were hoping to get a moment with this evening, it was him.

You snap from your thoughts as your father greets him and motions towards you. This man must have been reaching his thirties. Much older than any of the debutantes here. His bright ginger hair stands out like a sore thumb. He makes eye contact with you as your father talks. An uneasy feeling sweeps over you. For some reason, something about this man doesn't sit right with you.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet the Earl of Drall, Lord Armitage Hux" your father says as he motions towards the man. Lord Hux takes your hand and raises it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. The contact makes you cringe internally. Your father looks at you expectantly and you quickly pull yourself together.

"Hello Lord Hux, it is so nice to meet you."

Your father smiles at both of you and claps a hand on Lord Hux's shoulder.

"Lord Hux here is a good friend of mine. I was hoping to introduce you both tonight."

The uneasy feeling now makes sense. Any friend of your fathers is likely a crook. Not at all the type of man you want to be speaking to. You nod politely, biting your tongue from speaking your mind freely. The men then turn away from you and begin a discussion of their own, leaving you out. You lift your glass of champagne back to your lips and turn your gaze back to the direction of the man you had spotted before.

Instead of finding the curly haired man again, you met eyes with someone else. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back was a raven haired man. He stood tall and broad, much larger than any other man in the room. His gaze pierced through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You wanted to approach him, but to do so would make you look indecent.

Your eye contact is cut off by Lord Hux coming in front of you. He holds out his arm to you in invitation.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Lady Y/N?"

You wanted nothing more than to say no and go speak to the mystery man. Or even go find the curly haired man from before. But you know you had no choice in the matter. To deny him would make you look bad to the ton. Plus, your father would never stand for it. So you placed your hand in his arm and nod.

"Of course, Lord Hux."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Allie

[ackasamii--archive]

if you love him

summary: armin is ready to let you go but are you?

pairing: armin arlert x black!fem reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a little angst and fluff

note: had this idea one day and decided to post it. hope you like it because this one is close to my heart. title inspired by this song.

“Where’s y/n?” Something Armin Arlert heard a lot the past four years. This time it was Connie asking while glancing around to see if he could spot her.

“Probably with Onyankopon again.” Sasha answered easily while lying lazily in a chair. “Honestly surprised she hasn’t been caught by Hange or Levi yet, she should stop while she’s ahead.”

Jean scoffed, “We all know she’s into him, I don’t know why she’s still sneaking around.”

“You know y/n, she’s always kept to herself, kind of like Mikasa, but more discreet about it.” Connie shrugged.

Said girl narrowed her eyes at the buzzcut male, “More discreet?”

His heart twisted at every passing second while listening to them talk. There was one thing they were right about; you really did keep to yourself. And that’s what initially drawled him towards you.

It was the way you were always silent during conversation amongst friends and enjoying being around the people you were most comfortable with. How the quiet smile appeared on your lips whenever Jean or Connie made some stupid joke. Or the way Armin was captured by every word whenever you do speak, which was a rarity in itself. There was just something about you that kept his eyes always looking for you in a crowd. And sometimes they would meet for the briefest second before you quickly looked away to something else.

Then there was your skin. It was different from everyone else’s. Even Eren’s and Ymir’s. Your complexion had the sun smiling at you whenever it was out. Standing out amongst a sea of people, making you beautifully unique in his eyes.

It was easy to see that you wouldn’t fit with someone like him. Weak and useless Armin. You deserve someone strong and bold like Jean. Maybe outgoing and funny like Connie. Or maybe someone who could relate to you the most.

Like Onyankopon.

It was when the first came to Paradis Island. The moment your eyes landed on him; you were in awe. How was it that a stranger, a Marleyan, was able to capture your attention in seconds when he’s known you ever since they first started in the Survey Corps?

And just like that you’ve been sneaking out at night and coming back in the early hours of the morning with a soft smile on your lips. Yes, he’s noticed. He’s noticed how much happier you’ve become whenever you’d come back from your nightly adventures. He hated it. He hated that it couldn’t be him that made you smile like that.

Such a beautiful smile.

“She’ll tell us when she wants to.” Armin forced himself to say. He hid his heartbreak. He hid because at the end of the day, what he felt didn’t matter. Especially in a time of war.

War. Whoever said war was kind must’ve been out of their damned minds.

“Nothing we can do about it,” Mikasa shrugged, “it’s her own fault if she gets caught.”

Connie suddenly cleared his throat loudly, “Speaking of!” Armin along with everyone else turned their heads to find you entering the room, eyes slightly widened in surprise and curiosity. “Now where’ve you been, young lady?!”

You roll your eyes, “I went for a walk, mind your business.”

It was one of those brief seconds again. Where his and your eyes connected. Almost as if it were a puzzle finding its place.

This time he looked away.

“Shouldn’t you all be asleep?” you asked while leaning on the armchair Sasha was sitting in. “You know how the captain gets when we make noise past curfew.”

“We should say the same for you,, dummy.” Jean flicked her forehead.

You smack his hand, “Whatever. Do what you want, don’t get mad if Levi makes you do extra chores in the morning.”

She’s more talkative, Armin noticed. He wondered if anyone else realized this as well. If they did, they sure didn’t mind it much.

Not long after, everyone else decided to follow your lead and head to bed, not wanting to face the wrath of their strict superior in the morning to come. And as usual, Armin would lay away at night, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

He’d think about Eren and where he’s gone. He’d think about everyone else’s mental sanity through all of this, especially with this dangerous plan they had when they got to Marley. But tonight your face couldn’t stop appearing in his mind.

So much so, he dreamed of what your lips would feel like against his.

While simultaneously fighting off a growing resentment towards the Marleyan.

Next morning they received another letter from Eren. Which meant more developments in their plan. Which also meant more exhaustingly long meetings with Hange and the others. Those were the days he got to see you a lot more.

Sneaking glances your way, smiling despite himself whenever your eyes met.

Actually, it was happening a lot often now that Armin thought about it. Today he even caught you looking at him! It was strange and quite confusing considering your secret situation with Onyankopon.

Then night came. Armin hadn’t returned to the quarters yet as he was finishing up with Hange. Sometimes they could get a bit too carried away and he’d be patient enough to wait until she was finished. But once he was finally free, Armin pulled at his tie and left his white shirt unbuttoned.

He didn’t walk back to the quarters. Instead, he walked along the beach he and the others found years ago.

The ocean.

It was still beautiful no matter how many times he laid his eyes on it.

No matter how much it pained him to know what was coming on the other side.

He didn’t mean to.

No, he really didn’t.

But Armin just happened to turn his head and see you leave the tent Onyankopon was staying in. There was something within him that grew to the point where he felt reckless.

You stopped in your tracks, worried that you might’ve been caught when someone called your name. But when you glanced behind you, it was only Armin.

His kind features released the tension from your body as you fully turned to the male slowly approaching you.

You never knew what to do around him. How to act, how to talk. Armin Arlert had to be the most intelligent member of Levi’s squad and with that title came intimidation.

Not only that but he was far too pretty to be talking to someone like you. To even notice you. And so you only stared at your shaking hands, hoping your darkened skin could hide the warm feeling spreading across your face. If not your skin, please let the night protect you.

“What are you doing out here?” You finally ask carefully.

His blue eyes, similar to the large body of water, stared at you with an intensity you could not understand. In fact he always did. For years you never knew why he looked at you this way. Was it because of how you looked? How dark your skin was? Sure, you were most definitely used to that. Along with the whispers and the judgment.

But he held none of that. It was something else entirely. Something that had you shift on your toes and made your stomach do endless flips.

Now he was standing close. Not too close that you were uncomfortable with. But closer than he usually stood near anyone.

And then he whispers.

“Does he at least love you?”

You simply stared at him, now in confusion, “Who?”

“Onyankopon”

His heart was practically ready to leave his chest at that very moment. What had come over him? It’s like as soon as he saw you leave that tent, all signs of rational and reason had left him. And before he knew it, he had called your name, and now here you were. Standing before each other.

Ready to accept—

“What makes you think that?”

The question had thrown him off. Armin studied your face, seeing the confusion written all over it. A small part of him thought you adorable with the way you scrunched up your brows matched with the little frown on your face.

There he goes wishing for something out of his reach.

“It’s just that...” He hesitated to continue, the recklessness slowly leaving him. “you seem happier whenever you come back from seeing him...”

He had to look away from you. Find anything else he could look at but your face at this moment. So, instead he looked at the ocean and the words began to spill.

“And that’s all I’ve wanted for you. To see you smile, to see you happy. Even in a time where all things seem hopeless. When things seem impossible to achieve...like you.” He heard a quick gasp and continued before he regretted everything, “With everything unfolding, the titans, the Marleyans, this war, Eren—everything in my world is slowly crumbling before me. So, I search for you. I find you because you are my warmth, because you are my hope, and my motivation. In my dreams we’re free. And sometimes you’re there with me.” He closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay while clenching and unclenching his hands, “If you love him—”

“I don’t!”

Armin opened his eyes.

Seeing you crying was the saddest thing he’s ever witnessed. His body moved before his mind could process.

Suddenly his world was in his hands as he wiped the rebellious tears away.

You gripped onto his wrist while trying to calm down. Damn. You hadn’t planned to cry in front of him. Then again you hadn’t planned to hear any of that.

“It’s not him I love.”

You felt him freeze but never move his hands from the sides of your head. It was comforting, like a warm blanket.

After you’ve calmed down, you spoke in a more controlled voice, “I was an orphan before coming to the corps. I was the only person who looked different. There was no one that looked like...me. And I was alone. Being the outsider. Being the one to stand out when I just wanted to disappear in the sea of people.

And then I joined the Survey Corps where many people all over would be. Still, I was the only me among them. But it was different. I made friends, I didn’t see the judgment or rejection, not from them, not from you. I was happy, but the feeling of loneliness remained with me until...”

“Onyankopon.” Armin finished as realization crossed his features.

You nodded, “I can’t tell you how happy I was to see him. I wanted to cry right then and there. So, yes, I started sneaking out to see him. To learn about myself and hope that there were more people out there that looked like me. I wanted to know if my family was still out there if there was still hope. And he gave it to me. Something to hope for and the confidence to one day confess to the man I love.”

A smile reached your lips as you caught Armin’s own tears. His head leaned against yours as he closed his eyes.

“I didn’t feel—”

“Worthy? Me neither.”

There it was again. The same intensity in his eyes. Although this time, you knew what this was. You should’ve known sooner as he pulled you closer.

And he whispered, just a feather away from your lips, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He was gentle against your lips and slow as if he were taking his time to soak in your warmth and taste. His strong desire for you showed more through his body as one hand cupped your cheek with his thumb brushing below your eyes and his other pulled you closer to him where his warmth engulfed you, comforted you, and held you lovingly.

Finally.

Oh how you yearned to stay like this forever. Breathing in his scent, running your hand through his soft blond hair, and listening to him murmur against your ear about how much he loved you.

That night stayed with you as the war went on.

You would have Onyankopon to thank after the words exchanged between the two of you the night before. Why you were more talkative and happier.

“Onyan?”

The man looked up from his work and smiled gently at the nickname you’ve given him over time.

“Yeah, y/n?”

You pick at the wooden table in deep thought with a small frown on your face. He noticed the change in your mood the moment you entered his tent that night. But knowing you, constantly asking questions would not allow you to open up.

He learned to simply wait.

“Do you think I can be loved?”

Onyankopon stared at you for a moment.

“Why would you ask something like that.”

You sighed, “No, what I mean...it’s not like I’m the ideal type, you know?”

He raised a slick brow, “What’s this about?” Before you could reply he had already figured it out, “Oh wait, it’s about that one kid, isn’t it?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, that one kid.”

He chuckled and leaned on the table to look you in the eyes, “Do you love him?”

You didn’t respond.

“Ah,” The man rubbed his chin with a growing smirk, “Have you told him yet?”

“Are you crazy? Of course I haven’t!”

“Mmm, I think I’m quite sane, thank you.” He smirked. “We live in an unpredictable world, kiddo. You never know what’s going to happen next. You could die knowing you never told someone you loved them. Maybe they needed to hear it and it would be too late.” You stared at him blankly before he sighed, “Okay, let me put it this way. Do you want to die with regrets?”

You frowned, “No, no I don’t.”

Onyankopon nodded, “Then if you love him that much, tell him. Yeah, sure there could be rejection, but it beats having your confession weigh you down when it’s too late.”

You took in his words, knowing that he was right and you had to somehow build up whatever courage in you to just tell him.

Just do it. What could go wrong?

“Really?”

“Yep!”

A small teasing smile reached your lips, “Talking from experience?”

He laughed despite the small stab in his heart.

“Maybe!”

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