#way he expressed it was somewhat.... oh i don't know. i shouldn't blame him for my OWN ACTIONS

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

hmm

[adelior]

Name: Unconditionally

Author: R. Adelio

Genre: Romance, Minecraft, Comedy, Fluff

Main Lead: Technoblade, Dreamwastaken, DreamXD

Female Lead: Reader

Chapter: 3

Special Addition: Tchnomaid, Blob Dream, Accidental Marriage To Technoblade

Letters: 8,087

Tag: Territorial Behavior, Delusional Behavior From Wilbur, Wilbur Slowly Tipping Away Into Madness, Fluff, Possessiveness, Deep Kisses, Blob Dream

<- ->

Wilbur stood up, his fists clenching. You noticed the odd behavior coming from the brunette, it was unusual for him to look so stressed, and on top of that bothered. "Wil, what's wrong? You can't just lie to me if something is happening" You caught the way his fists tightened. "Don't worry, it's nothing."

He gave you a reassuring smile, turning to the door and leaving you behind with a questionable expression on his face. Wilbur looked pissed, but what could it possibly be that made him this distressed.

° ° °

"M-Mm.." You whimpered, eyes closed as the being kept exploring your mouth with its tongue. His eyes narrowed, enjoying the way your body reacted so naturally to his. "So obedient even in your slumber." The blonde complimented but stopped in his tracks when he sees a man in the corner of his eye.

XD quickly became defensive, hiding your unconscious body under his cloak. "What the.." Wilbur's eyes widened, teeth pulled back into a snarl. "LET HER GO-" The God chuckled, softly patting your head from above his cloak. "A mere human, ordering me to submit what is mine? How ridiculous." He said as he looked down, admiring your kissable lips.

"I'll fucking kill you if you don't let her go."

° ° °

Even thinking back to what he saw gave him the shivers. A God, specifically DreamXD being infatuated with a human? And not just any human, but it just had to be you, someone who he sees as more than just a friend. "Fuck." He cursed under his breath as soon as he exited your room. Once he was far away he punched the nearest wall. "DAMNIT."

"Wilbur..-?" Tommy's voice softened, he was about to call out to him but decided that maybe it wasn't a good idea. "What do you want Tommy?!" Wilbur screamed, stepping back once he realized that he had raised his voice. "Sorry, I'm just.. Stressed from all of this" He chuckled, stroking his bangs back with a sigh.

"That's.. fine? But enough from that man, what are we gonna do about the problem? We can't fucking contact Techno or Phil without actually going to where they are"

"Tommy, I'm well aware that it'll take days for us to get there but it's alright. As long as we resolve this problem we shouldn't complain about it."

"What about [Name]? Will we bring her along?" The kid asked, a hopeful look in his eyes. Soot knew how much Tommy wanted you to experience the world, more than anybody else. "We aren't bringing her, neither are we bringing anybody else. It'll just be us two."

"WHAT? Bro, I'm gonna fucking starve out there. Not to mention it's gonna be cold as fuck in that damn tundra." He complained, childishly stomping his feet on the ground. "Tommy, it's for the sake of everyone, for us. Now, will you join me or not?"

Tommy pondered but eventually gave in with a grumble. "Fine, we better stop by at Tubbo's place when we're heading out"

"Deal."

° ° °

"If you need anything just let me know," Niki said in a soft voice, pressing her hand against your neck, checking if you have a fever. "Niki- I'm not sick so it's okay!" Despite your words, she still looked somewhat puzzled. As if she couldn't connect something but was restricted to tell you. "Well, alright! I'll be at my cottage so just ping me whenever"

"Alright" You responded. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind" She smiled, turning to exit your room. "Is she doing okay?" Tubbo asked in a worried tone, earning a nod from the passing female. "Thank god.." Sighing, he walked in once Niki left the room. The goat hybrid came closer to where you sat on your bed, his hands behind his back.

"Tubbo?"

"Yeahhhhhh?" He dragged his words along, smiling happily as if he's waiting for you to ask what he was hiding, it made you laugh. "Haha, what's in your hand?"

"Oh, this?!" Tubbo happily revealed the flower crown, one that he crafted himself. It took a few hours, but he was able to pick out your favorite flowers on his way back during their exposition. "Wait... Is that for me-" He nodded, gently placing the flower crown on your head. "It suits you! I hope you like it"

"Like it? I LOVE IT TUBBO! Thank you! When did you even have time to make this?" You asked, earning a confident 'hah' from the boy. "I was able to pick out a few of your favorite flowers on our way back. I saw them so I asked Wilbur if I was allowed to bring them home"

Too sweet, you thought. Tubbo was a child who always looked at you with stars in his eyes. It was as if you were one of the many thousands of pulsars that adorned the limitless sky, something that he always admired. "Look I even made one for me, so now we match," He said as he showed his own, one that was decorated in yellow, black, and white flowers.

"How does it look?" Tubbo asked with a sheepish smile. "It looks amazing" You returned the same expression, causing the boy to laugh in satisfaction. "Fuck yeah!"

"Tubboooooooo" Fundy said as he peeked from the door, waving at both you and the male. "We gotta go out now, didn't you say you wanted bees for your bee farm?"

"OH YEAH!"

"Bee farm-" You stared at the brunette with a baffled look on your face. "Oh sorry I didn't tell you, but I'm planning to make a bee farm! I love bees"

Smiling, you waved both of them off. It was always nice to hear Tubbo express his liking for bees. You couldn't blame him for liking them, after all, they were cute when they didn't viciously attack you. "Man now I feel fucking old" You muttered, falling back onto your pillows. "Not to mention, everyone has something to do apart from me"

'Damn that just makes me seem like a freeloader' You thought in your head, smirking at how stupid it was. "Wait I could help farm the Nether Warts-" With that, you quickly changed your clothes and head towards the Nether Portal room. 'I could at least do this. And if I get caught I could just say that I'm preparing ingredients for future potions that I'll be brewing.'

You praised yourself, patting your hand against your right shoulder with a smug smile. 'I'm so smart'

Minutes passed, and you've been working away with growing the Nether Wart farm that's been installed beside the Portal. You managed to harvest at least a stack or two before you became tired. It was more tiring than you expected, but you didn't care. Being able to move around was better than sitting in a singular spot.

"Farming Nether Wart sure is tiring huh?" A male voice asked. "It sure is, takes a lot more strength to pull them out compared to normal crops." You replied, groaning. "That may be true but did you know you could easily harvest them if you heated the roots with lava?"

"Oh, rea- WHAT THE FUCK" You realized how familiar the voice was once your brain started to regain energy after all the moving. "You scared the shit out of me Clay-"

"My bad~" He smirked, pushing himself off of the Nether Portal that was.. lit again..? But how, how did the portal appear again? "Since when did that portal reopen?" You questioned, walking past the male who was outstretching his arms, expecting a hug. "How the hell is this..-"

"Rude, I didn't even get a hello how are you hug?" You glared back at him, nodding to the portal that you were curious about, silently telling him to explain himself. "I wanted to see you again, so I thought I should light it."

"Light it? Are you saying you were the one to destroy that portal in the first pla-"

[SLAM]

You stiffened in your spot, back pressing against the wall as you feel Clay's staggered breaths fan over your face. "You know... You should be grateful I came all the way here just to see you, on top of that with an.." He stumbled forward, body leaning over yours as he continued to breathe heavily.

"Hey, are you oka- CLAY YOU'RE BLEEDING-"

"It's fine." The man breathed out, lips dangerously close to your neck. "What do you mean it's fine?! Let me heal you with potions are you insane?!"

"Just.." His voice softened, body slowly getting smaller and smaller. "Let me rest.."

[POOF]

'Huh' You stood there confused, a gust of wind blowing in your direction. He was gone, and what was left was a white blob that happily pressed its cheeks against your neck. "What the- FU-"

<- ->

ec: @quacobs (instagram)

[cherry-lipbalm]

double trouble. spencer reid.

4.8k words.

masterlist

where y/n pulls the short straw and has to double up with spencer.

There is a chart within the BAU: a solid, concise graph that portrays, arguably the most, vital information within the FBI. Intricately designed, Garcia and Y/N had managed to construct a comprehensible guide to who in the team was the most pleasant to share a room with. At first it was a joke, originated from a slow day of nothing but paperwork Y/N had spent in Garcia's lair. Conversations arose, and soon after so did the chart.

It's built up on categories such as conversation, tidiness, sleeping conditions and even hygiene. There are ten available points per category, and Emily loses said ten points for sleeping conditions because her snores can be heard from China. The points are the basis of the game, essential in order to rank the team individually and compile them into a list of favourability. Spencer is at the bottom of that list.

"I don't get it, I'm a delight," Spencer argued, strolling alongside Morgan up the small flight of stairs to the BAU room. Another case had forced them to prepare for the jet in 30 minutes, but Hotch and the rest of the team had very different perspectives on preparation. Especially after what he said when they entered the room.

"Okay, before we start you should know I called ahead to book a hotel and they had limited rooms. We all have one but you're going to have to double up."

Y/N had never seen an American Western movie before, but she imagined that the cliché standoff looked a lot like what happened in the BAU room subsequent to that announcement. Those that had been sitting launched to their feet, uncaring to the chairs rolling free behind them. If someone was holding something it dropped onto the table, or even the floor. Communication faltered, and all anyone dared to do was stare at each other.

When Hotch looked up from his file, he had to do a double take because of the drastic change in atmosphere. His team were all standing metres apart; Y/N had a hand over her gun.

"I think we all know what this calls for," she said.

"Get it," Morgan gestured to the back of the room. Y/N's movement caused a surge of motion as everyone sat at the table attentively. Hotch tried to turn the attention back to the screen with the crime scene photos, but even JJ was more focused on the whiteboard rolling into the room.

Y/N stood by it's side, and on her way forced Hotch into a seat. She grabbed the top corner and flipped it over to reveal the coloured array of pie charts, bullet-points and bar charts.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Spencer whined from the back of the room.

"I don't see why you've obviously spent more time and effort on this than any of your cases," Hotch added.

"Okay, you two are just jealous because you're at the bottom of the list," Y/N snarked, then addressed the team. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to judge your fellow coworkers and deem who is the least likeable. Spoiler alert: it's Spencer."

At this, the aforementioned agent threw his pen directly at Y/N's head. She shrieked, then turned to him with a glare as she tried to untangle it from her hair. He laughed wholeheartedly, and the team snickered not only at Spencer's attack but the way they were so obviously and obliviously in love with each other.

"This chart makes no sense! I mean, how do I only have five points for hygiene? We all know I'm the cleanest out of everyone here."

"I agree with you Spencer," Y/N said, "your hygiene is at a ten point standard but unfortunately people don’t want to compete with said ten point standard, so that loses you five points, gorgeous.”

Spencer didn't reply (only sulked into his seat), half because he's shocked by the injustice of the chart and the other half because he's shocked Y/N just called him gorgeous.

"Alright! The hat, please," She exclaimed, enticing Spencer from his trance. Garcia presented the fedora over the table, and Y/N began talking immediately when she saw Hotch's mouth open in objection because were they really using the fedora from the unsub they caught last week?

Only four people took turns in picking names out of the hat; ever since in incident in '04 where lack of coordination made for everyone picking a name of someone who had already picked someone else. It resulted in a few brawls when Morgan wouldn't budge from his choice of Garcia even though his name had been pulled by Reid.

It never took them long to pick names out of desperation, considering the name-picking determined how the next 24 + hours were going to go. So when Y/N picked out Spencer's name, no one blamed her when she practically collapsed to the floor.

"That's karma," Spencer said upon her unraveling.

"I thought you didn't believe in karma," she sneered, stomping back onto her feet.

"In situations like these it seems to be the only viable explanation."

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him on her way out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'll be briefed when she's aboard, because she needed a moment alone for a pep-talk on how murdering your colleague apparently isn't socially acceptable.

On her way out, faintly in the background, Morgan caught sight of Emily and JJ fist-bumping victoriously, and realised that Y/N's demise more than certainly involved some foul play. Oh well, he thought, it'll make for good entertainment.

———

"Science shows us that we feel more personally connected with people who have similar postures, vocal rhythms, facial expressions and even eye blinking. If you consciously sync these factors your brain activity could follow, resulting in what many people call 'clicking' wi-"

"I cannot believe you asked me why you lost seven points for conversation and then followed with that."

"What? What's wrong with science?"

"Oh, Spence, you're so gorgeous but so oblivious," Y/N sighed, exhausted from a mixture of jet lag and Spencer's enthusiastic take on the science of conversation. They had only just stepped foot in the room, and she was already drained from the mere thought of having to bunk with him for the next however many hours.

Y/N is quick to throw her things down as soon as they enter the room. She dumps her suitcase by the door and launches a few more things on the cabinets around her, then tries to ignore Spencer's sounds of distaste as she does this. She's frankly too tired to care, and jumps onto the bed without thinking; she's so enervated she doesn't even realise there's only the one bed.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer suddenly asks despite the silence that passed and the obvious fact that Y/N is trying to get some shut eye.

All he receives is an incomprehensible mumble from under the pillows, but he takes it as a response anyway.

"Why do you keep, uh, keep calling me 'gorgeous' I mean, I'm not, uh..." he stammers, fidgeting with the room key in his hands while he stands in front of the wardrobe to make it seem like he's doing something and doesn't care as much as he does.

"I'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

He senses the fatigue in her voice, so just leaves it with a shrug of his shoulders and a content smile, then goes to organising his array of sweater vests onto the hangers. When he's done with this, he turns around to make himself a coffee; taking a different approach to the jet lag than Y/N.

At the thought of her, he looks up to see her sprawled out across the bed. She's clutching onto a pillow and seems so relaxed that Spencer has to look away for a moment because he's more than certain he shouldn't be seeing a coworker like this. Nevertheless, he smiles upon her peaceful ambience, and hopes the boiling kettle doesn't disturb her too much.

When it's done brewing, Spencer sips the coffee cautiously and strides over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Here, Y/N's slumped figure is directly in his view, so he can't help but see her so casually on the bed. Wait, the bed... oh shit.

He knows that the chances of him getting the bed are slim. For one, Y/N's pretty much already claimed that territory, and, even if she hadn't, Spencer knew she'd put up one hell of a fight for it. He only hoped there were some extra blankets and pillows that could aid in making the floor at least somewhat comfortable.

"So, uh, Rock Paper Scissors for the bed?" He asks, then slurps his coffee. His voice rouses Y/N for a moment, and he's sure she's dozed back off again until his words sink in and she turns around to him with bleary eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"One bed. Two people," he says nervously and gestures to the space between them.

And it takes Y/N a moment. She looks from Spencer to the bed, then stares at the pillows for a long while, then she looks at Spencer again, then the bed. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling cry so loud that Reid has to cover his ears.

"Why!" She screams, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Spencer can't help but laugh, snickering behind his hand which only infuriates Y/N more.

"Okay, okay!" He moves to calm her down when he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, "rock paper scissors, come on."

"Oh, I don't want to do that, Spence," she whines.

"Why? 'Cause you know you'll lose?" With his patronisation he raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches the end of the bed, his fist already raised. His condescension makes Y/N irrefutably stubborn, and she knows he's doing it on purpose -because he always does- but she doesn't care when it means she has a chance to beat Spencer at something.

"Fine," she grumbles. She sweeps the hair from her face and sits up straight, shuffling to the end of the bed and letting her legs dangle down; they brush against Spencer's own and he clears his throat amid the contact.

The slap of her fist against her palm indicates the beginning of the game. Y/N knows that she's unlikely to win, because Spencer is bound to have calculated some sure-fire plan to succeed in every round of Rock Paper Scissors.

This is why, when Spencer pulls paper and she pulls scissors, she screams in delight.

"No," Spencer says bluntly, then demands, "best out of three."

"Oh no," she chuckles, "it's never been that way before, it isn't now, gorgeous."

Spencer throws his head back in a groan, kneeling on the floor in defeat. He stays there because he figures he ought to become acquainted with it.

———

When nighttime rolls around, Y/N is pretty excited. She's already texted the BAU group chat a record seventeen times about the matter, yet somehow the team hasn't gotten sick of it thus far, and may even be more exhilarated than she is. It's the one good thing to come out of sharing a room with Spencer: that she gets to watch him wiggle in discomfort on his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Except, when it comes down to it, it isn't that fun at all.

He's wriggling, yes, but it's doesn't exactly fulfil her with any satisfaction; if anything, it's just sad. He struggles to reach any form, never mind pinnacle, of relaxation, and Y/N actually feels pretty guilty at the subordination. So when the clock hits midnight and she's still hearing Spencer grunting when he hits a certain incessant bump in the carpet, she gives in and sits up.

Upon the sudden sound of bedsheets rustling, Spencer freezes because he thinks he's going to get shouted at, but it's the opposite that scares him even more.

"Do you want to get in bed?" Her voice sounds, the hush penetrating through the air.

Immediately Spencer rises; he wants nothing more than to take her up on her offer, but he is, unfortunately, chivalrous.

"No, no, it's okay," he whispers back, already delving back under his covers.

"Spencer. Just take the bed, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning," she says, hoping the complaint will cover up her caring behaviour.

"Be careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you care."

"Shut up, do you want the bed or not?"

"I do but, unlike you, I'm actually a good person and wouldn't want to see you lying on the floor-"

"Uh, I'm offering you the bed, aren't I? That's gotta earn me some brownie points," she remarked, now having turned on a lamp. "Besides, if you're that bothered about it, we'll just share."

This makes Spencer stop: his torso is turned abnormally in his angle to see Y/N behind him, the blankets feebly draping across him show the Doctor Who shirt he's wearing, and his hair is a tousled mess that Y/N just knows will take him hours to fix in the morning. Well, that was tomorrow's problem, she contemplated, right now the issue lied in who, if either of them, was going to sleep on the floor.

"Uh, share? You.. uh, you really wanna do that?"

"As long as you don't snore, or kick; whats the harm?"

Spencer avoids dumping information about the harm of them sleeping together: how this kind of physical contact releases oxytocin, a chemical compound in the brain that exhibits feelings of empathy, trust, relaxation and even reduces anxiety. He saves her this because it's just past midnight and he doubts she wants to hear about the scientific risk of them growing to like each other.

"Oh, okay," he agrees instead. He clambers up from his pile of blankets and clutches a pillow to his chest while he stumbles over. Y/N shuffles to one side and pulls the duvet back, and he's more than happy to get under warm, comfy sheets.

"Let me just make something clear," Y/N says while Spencer adjusts into the pillows. He doesn't do this for long because one is snatched from under his head. When he moves to object, he sees it being planted next to his arm, creating a definite border between them.

"Your side, my side," Y/N says sternly, "that clear?"

"Crystal."

———

It's around three am when Y/N stirs awake. At first she can't grasp what's roused her, but then she hears a noise, and assumes there's got to be some construction going on outside because what she hears is alike to the humming of machinery. When she gains a reasonable amount of consciousness, she realises the sound is a bit too close to home.

Her hand reaches out across the bed, and when she accidentally whacks Spencer on the chest, she worries she's awoken him, until the noise starts again and it's here she discovers it's coming from him.

Oh shit, she thinks, please don't tell me my co-worker is having a sex dream while I'm lying right next to him.

He isn't, but Y/N isn't sure the reality is any better.

The moaning sound he first emitted has progressed into some sort of panicked grunt, accompanied by occasional whines. Soon, his body is flinching away from an invisible force.

Y/N knows it's probably best to leave it, that if she wakes him up he might be too confused and scared, he'll be disoriented, but when he starts screaming, she doesn't have anything else to resort to.

"Spence, Spencer! Wake up, hey," she shakes him, and he's awake in seconds. Sitting up straight, Y/N sees him hitting things that aren't there; it's only when she turns the light on that he eventually calms down.

"I'm sorry," he croaks immediately. Then his head is in his hands as he leans on his knees, and Y/N is overcome with a feeling completely foreign to her in regard to Spencer: empathy.

"Don't be, it-... it's okay," her voice takes a calm turn, and she even puts a hand on his back because anything that happens after three am is as good as forgotten anyway.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Spencer mutters. "This'll lose me ten points for sleeping conditions, huh?"

His attempt at cracking a joke does make Y/N smile, but even he can tell it's one of pity.

"Don't be silly. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

"I just wanna sleep," he sighs, and falls back into the pillows. Y/N creases her brows in sympathy, then lies down next to him; she stares at the ceiling for a while, and the steadying of Spencer's breathing makes her think he fell asleep a while ago, so she leans to turn off the lamp before his voice breaks the silence.

"Can you keep the light on?"

His sudden ask makes Y/N jump, but she steadies under the softness of Spencer's voice. When she turns to him his eyes are barely open, but he can see the benevolent smile she's giving him; something he rarely sees from Y/N.

"Of course," she says, then lies back down into the indent she's made in the bed.

"Thanks," he replies, and Y/N notices this is the least she's ever heard Spencer talk.

"You know," she starts, "it's not silly to be afraid of the dark; it's basic human instinct. I mean, it's evolution: humans have a... a tendency to be afraid of the dark, our visual sense vanishes and we can't detect anything around us. It's primal instinct, or... something, I guess."

At the end of her ramble, she's afraid she's sent Spencer to sleep, because he's gone uncharacteristically placid, but -yet again- he surprises her.

"Now who's losing points for conversation?"

Y/N's laugh after this is so hearty and genuine that Spencer can't help but smile, grin even. His chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Y/N feels the mattress shake under their collaboration of laughter, when it dies down they're both still beaming.

"Maybe I've been hanging around you too much," she declares. It's a jab, but her cheek rests against the pillow when she turns her head to him because her smile is so wide, and Spencer reciprocates; the act is unfamiliar to the pair, but warming nonetheless.

When it goes silent, Y/N doesn't expect to sleep at all. The Pavlov affect of the light being on tricks her brain into thinking she should be wide awake (something she learnt from Spencer), so she lies there patiently; hands intertwined resting on her chest. She twiddles her thumbs, almost as if she's waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry you have nightmares," she mutters.

Spencer's eyes flutter open, and she goes to make another apology, this time for waking him, but he clears his throat so she lets him take the lead.

"S'Not your fault, I just, I don't know. I get these dreams, these weird dreams - ever since I was a kid. I guess they just... developed into nightmares since I joined the BAU," he mumbles. "We see some pretty bad stuff."

Y/N hums, "we do, don't we?"

Her speech doesn't warrant a response, so Spencer just smiles again and they both silently call it a night. Reid is asleep in seconds, which Y/N finds admirable, while she stays still for a while. The way the orange light is bouncing off Spencer's physique makes him look like he's centre stage of an oil painting. The detail she's gaining of his pores and his eyelashes from being so close to him is both daunting and beautiful at the same time. His resting body reminds her of the pieces on display in an art exhibit Spencer dragged her along to one day last autumn. She wonders if he took anyone else to that exhibit, and hopes he didn't.

She soundlessly admires the rise of his chest: the melody of his breathing amid the chagrin of an occasional nose whistle. His hair, once a foreseeable inconvenience, is now an abundance of, what Y/N can only describe as, natural radiance; it's all curls and frizz and length that she's begged him to never lay a hand on. She can't help but run a hand through it. When she does, it's a lot softer than she expected and makes her think, wow I've really got to find out what conditioner he is using while she's untangling any knots she comes across. It only results in more frizz but he'll gel it back with product in the morning (much to Y/N's disappointment).

The noise he exudes when Y/N scratches his scalp makes her heart melt immediately. It is the sound of innocence wrapped up in a ball of revere, the way it comes from his chest and catches in the back of his throat in a small, naive whine. Then he subconsciously curls into her hold and is practically purring when she continues to scrape her fingernails gently across his head.

The ambivalence of it all is what makes Y/N stop. Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy she ever anticipated to have a crush on. He didn't fit into the pattern of her list of exes, not even one feature of him came close to anything of her usual type. Where she'd normally be taken to movies and dinners, Spencer ventured with her to museums, public symposiums, art exhibits. Y/N can't resist fondly reminiscing on a library trip they took last week that resulted in them checking out each of their favourite books for one another. And while, on paper, this was romantic and harmonious, they were strictly platonic. Barely that; they took the piss out of each other at every opportunity, not even always as a joke. Y/N had collapsed in sorrow when she pulled his name out of the hat.

But the smile on Spencer's face... his serene expression and soft hair makes Y/N's knees weak for a totally different reason. And she figures this feeling trumps whatever feigned resentment she has been portraying over the years.

Fine, she thought, stubborn as always when it came to Spencer, I'll tell him when he wakes up. She began to bask in the peace that came before whatever storm could potentially riot tomorrow when she told Spencer how she felt. She guessed she had at least a few hours to relish in their friendship and the love they had built.

She guessed wrong.

Spencer's eyes were fluttering open before Y/N had even began conjuring up what she was going to say. Unfortunately, when she made a plan she stuck to it; she was beginning to see why her stubbornness could be such an unattractive quality.

Spencer squinted harshly with the light, and the first thing he managed to see clearly was the discreet panic in Y/N's eyes. He took a quick survey of the room to eliminate what visible factors that could reason her alarm; when he ruled out any unsub with a gun to her head, he relaxed.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the window, and it didn't seem to be daylight yet.

"Haven't you been to sleep?" He asked, more than prepared to educate her in the necessities of getting a good night's rest.

"Not yet. You've only been out a few minutes," she said softly, retracting her hand from his locks. Here, Spencer realised he didn't like the feeling of Y/N's absence.

"Oh," he hummed, "I was dreaming. I think Darth Vader was there..."

Y/N chuckled lightheartedly, "of course he was."

Spencer seemed willing to remain awake, but time was limited and Y/N wasn't sure when he'd be dozing off again. So, she made her move.

"Listen, I wasn't going to say anything until morning but, you're awake so I may as well tell you now..."

He's visibly intrigued; with a quirked eyebrow and digging the knuckle-joint of his finger in a rubbing motion in the corner of his eye to try and gain some sense of vivacity. Still, all he can respond with is a drone.

"And I don't want this to, I don't know, freak you out? Or to make anything awkward, so if it does, we can just... pretend this never happened, okay? I mean it."

This manages to obtain Y/N the attention she needs, because, without delay, Spencer has both eyes open and his eyebrows are knitted together in mostly concern. Now, with his eager expression, Y/N wishes he had stayed nonchalant.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I guess. I mean, I like you? I think? I know, really. I just - you're not like any other guy, and I like that, that's a good thing! I mean, what other guy knows how to build a rocket and make a coin appear behind your ear?"

Spencer chuckles, and his eyes are wide and bright like he's been suddenly granted passage to a whole new world. Mouth agape with wonder, he's like a child being told he can finally play on the big-kid swings: buzzing with excitement and anticipation, just like said rockets he launches and gets in trouble with Hotch for.

"You mean like this?" He asks and leans forward to brandish a dime from behind Y/N's earlobe.

"Okay, like, who does that!" She screeches way too loudly for three am. When she clasps a hand over her mouth Spencer chortles and slowly removes her grasp. He's timid, so initially only presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, then feels the ambience in the room shift; suddenly everything has devolved from blushing antics and stumbles of words to serenity in a matter of seconds.  

Spencer's pecks adhere to Y/N's hands, lingering on the skin of her knuckles and occasionally peppering to her palms. It isn't until a few kisses later that he brings himself to move closer, and even here his courage only brings him to her cheek.

When the corner of his lips press lustfully upon her face, Y/N doesn't hesitate in turning her head ever so slightly. His lips part, and he breaks away to glance at her and make sure this isn't all one big misunderstanding. But her gaze is matched to his mouth, and soon her lips. In a fumble to close the (already compact) space between them, the kiss they share is warm and breathy, it's passionate and lewd, especially with the arrangement in which Spencer places his hands: cupping one side of her face and the placing the other at her neck so he can rest his fingertips in the hold atop Y/N's spine.

Wherever his fingers touch leaves a trail of goosebumps which Y/N hopes never diminish; she wants every piece of evidence she can muster of Spencer's caresses, however this changes when Spencer's lips begin on the formidable task of her neck.

"Stop," she pants, and the hands that had inevitably reached his hair again are now pushing slightly on his shoulders. Her request makes Spencer drop his hands immediately.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. It was nice. I just, I don't want everyone to see," she gestured to the red patch that had already formed above her clavicle where Spencer had only been nibbling a moment prior.

"Right, yeah," he breathed. A giddy smile forced its way onto his face when he looked at the way Y/N's lips had reddened and become swollen, especially her bottom (now essentially permanent) pout originated from the persistence of Spencer's tendency to drag his teeth along her lip and enclose it in a bite.

"You know, I predicted this would happen. Scientifically, people are a lot more likely to be attracted to one another after sleeping together. Subconsciously, we feel more capable in our ability to trust that person because we've been so vulnerable and open in a compromising position. The oxytocin we get from sharing physical contact like that is the same we produce in an orgasm."

"Oh," Y/N squeaked, while Spencer lay there with a proud smile on his face, not really registering the effect he'd had on her by using the word 'orgasm'.

"Oxytocin is heavily released during kissing too, so... I guess we're pretty bonded."

Y/N chuckled, smiling at his blushed cheeks. "I guess we are."

"It's, uh, it's actually also called the 'cuddle hormone' because it's primarily recognised as being released during hugging.”

"And that's your way of asking me if I want to cuddle?"

Spencer's smile was unmissable: shifting nervously between tight-lipped and beaming wide, his eyes were the only part of his countenance that stilled; locked on Y/N.

"Yes, I, uh, I believe it is."

She tried to suppress her grin, but it was no use.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked.

"Oh, little spoon... obviously."

fin.

[celestialices]

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

OVERVIEW. You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

003: PLAN OF ACTION

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Tense.

That's one word to describe the atmosphere in the pantheon right now. Usually, the after ceremony gathering of the Twelve Olympians plus Hades, everyone would be drinking, having fun, and feasting their eyes on humans just for pure enjoyment. Even Hera doesn't know what to say, normally the one talking too much was her, often bragging about her dearest son, Kuroo Tetsuro.

Unlike others, Hermes is rather enjoying himself, sipping his wine every now and then. This day is truly a blessing. Ever since the Medusa incident, Zeus prevented all his might to keep Olympus on track. He had his sons take care of each problem before it aggravates.

Subsequently, Athena grew tired of the silence. Opting to break it, she was about to say what's been bugging her mind, but paused after locking eyes with the mischievous god. "You fancy these situations, don't you?" Athena is annoyed, no doubt.

Like the bastard he is, Hermes only snickered. "Perhaps."

"Hermes, you did something." Athena hypothesized, the wise goddess is somewhat sure of her assumption. Hermes is the most cunning of them all, the amount of times he tried to bring trouble was uncountable. But he was never held liable, taking in the fact that he did a lot of sacrifices for Mount Olympus. He's responsible for a lot of things too, in comparison of the added vigorous deities, he still remains as the best choice.

"Oh," Hermes acted dumbfounded, behaving as if he didn't know Athena will catch on sooner or later. "Did I?" He teased her. Athena isn't easy to annoy. She would rather ignore all the insignificant etiquettes of others than wasting her time expressing wrath. It's useless for pea-brains.

But with the recent events damaging her calm mind, Athena was easily irked, just as Hermes desired. Thinking of punching Hermes just to get over with it, Athena put on a smile. My punch won't hurt that much. She thought.

"Aletheia and her daughter are here." Ares announced while Athena was readying her fist, making the goddess halt and look at the two deities entering the pantheon.

Quivering in fear, Yachi held her dear mother's hand tightly. This meeting could change their lives after all. Bitterly regretting her actions earlier, Yachi reflected on her previous actions. She should've stayed quiet. If only Hermes didn't interfere, she wouldn't have said anything. Now everything is going downhill, because of a possibly wrong vision.

She just got her powers. Something could go wrong with it, right? But that never happened before. Well, Asami's case with Medusa was a first too. How would one be blinded that a mere immortal is living with them? Especially Zeus! It just doesn't make any sense. She's doomed, that's for sure.

Oh, just stop, stop, stop! Everything was too confusing. Yachi's truly conflicted, she just want pull through and move onto another day.

The two goddesses of truth bowed their heads down, showing their respect for the upper gods. “Good thing you made it promptly after we sent off Sakusa.” Zeus said with a smile. Sakusa Kiyoomi, son of Hygieia, currently under the supervision of Artemis. He was instructed to call Aletheia, after all, he originally planned on visiting to Earth after the ceremony. Artemis reasoned that, hence he can’t refuse.

"Shouldn't we call in Asami?" Demeter asked, feeling anxious. No one really knows what will happen. Demeter was only enjoying Asami's companion yesterday, now things are like this. If this doesn't go well, she'll lose another daughter. Oh, how will she just react to that?

"Before we do," Aphrodite finally spoke, standing up from her seat. "I just want to remind you all that we should set our feelings aside. Whatever the conclusion of this discussion may be, think before you act." She reminded.

This wasn't the first time a mortal was blessed by immortality, but requiring the discussion of the important gods of Olympus surely was. Meetings were typicaly in the hands of their trusted sons and daughters, however; this was too major to be dealt by them.

"Bring her in." Zeus ordered.

Three words made the room tenser. Every deity noticed how Poseidon stiffened, his agitation worsens minute by minute. It didn't help when Asami entered the pantheon, looking frightened. Poseidon locked eyes with her, his heart burning in discomfort. He never saw her like this before.

"Well?" Hera asked, raising her right eyebrow. These kind of situations bores the hell out of her. What Hera likes the most is being straight to the point. Just decide if you'll keep her or throw her out, that easy.

Yachi and Asami stared at each other. Yachi’s face was full of regret, asking for forgiveness. Asami only smiled, hoping that it will deliver her message. That it wasn’t Yachi’s fault, she would never blame her.

Aletheia stared into Asami’s soul, widening her eyes after a span of seconds. Yachi looked at her mother’s reaction, instantly panicking. “What my daughter saw is true.”

Quiet. Too quiet.

“Asami is not one of us.” Aletheia dropped the bomb. Yet no one spoke. Everything was back to square one. In spite of the fact that they prepared themselves for the truth, it was traumatizing.

Poseidon wants to protest, but if Aletheia already confirmed it, there was no way it’ll make a difference. Hades was on the verge of asking their opinions, if not accidentally making eye contact with an unoccupied space. He’s got a feeling that someone sneaked in and is currently listening to their discussion, someone being Suna Rintarou.

As he was walking towards it, his intuition suddenly disappeared. That only means one thing, Suna knew he saw him and left straight away. Hades shook his head, someone will be in trouble. Back to the real issue, “Now, what?” Hades broke the silence.

“Well..” Apollo is utterly dumbfounded. It feels surreal, is that even possible for a god? He can’t believe it. He wants to deny it even though it’s no use. “We can just make her one of us, right?”

“I don’t think we should.” Athena argued, eyes travelled to her before you know it. She is always determined, standing by her first decision no matter what happens. “We should presume that the real daughter is there, with Asami’s real parents. Switching them would be a better plan.” After what she said, almost every deity in the room swerved their opinions. Athena is the wisest, her words are always right.

“I stand by Athena.” Ares backed her up. Their opinions about this matter were alike, that’s surprising itself. They never get along; having opposite opinions is common for them. It’s truly shocking that they won’t debate over this.

“We should first check if the real one is alive and well. Before dealing with Asami. For now, I’ll reside her in my place.” Hestia said.

“No. Lock her up in the underworld.” Hera contradicted, studying Asami’s response to all of this. But all she can see in her face is blankness. Huh, Hera pondered, Affecting her already? “Hades would look after her better.”

Hestia frowned, offended by what Hera said. Just as she was about to retort, Zeus spoke up. “That’d be better. Does anyone disagree?” Zeus was emotionless. His voice is laced with seriousness, but it looks like he doesn’t really prefer that choice.

No one spoke up. Seems like they’re still processing what the hell just happened. “I’ve got no complaints.” Hephaestus spoke for the very first time, just wanting to go home. He isn’t really close with Asami, so he doesn’t care, at all. Being in the same room with the other upper gods makes him want to vomit.

“Then that’s it.” Zeus replied straightaway, evidently scared that he’ll lament his decision and change it abruptly. “May every Olympian send their desired deity in hopes of finding the real deity in Earth? Until they bring her back, they can’t come back to Olympus. So, I advise you to think wisely.”

Everyone was taken aback. Today is just full of surprises.

“Everything will be fine.”

Lies. All lies, everything was obviously not fine. His closest friend, the one who's always there for him, is not fine. Regrets piled up in Yamaguchi's heart. Reminiscing to what happened back there, he regrets not doing anything. Those eyes, those eyes crying for help. He should've ran to her, he should've hugged her and tell her everything will be okay even though it won't. Because it was always like that. They’re always like that.

Everything will not be fine!

It's been hours since the big commotion, hours since the supposedly ‘meeting’ of the upper gods regarding the issue, Yamaguchi never heard any news since then. It was new, since every time there’s a meeting, words will circulate fast.

Hearing Hera's last words were only making him more anxious. Human world? The real daughter? That can't be it. He sincerely hopes that Yachi was mistaken. That this was all a big joke. The consequence will not be that bad compared to what can possibly happen to Asami.

Yamaguchi groaned in frustration. "Don't think too much." Hanamaki said, feeling guilty watching his fellow Aeolian suffer from his thoughts.

"Asami made a big impact to everyone, Yamaguchi. I don't think Zeus will throw her out that easy." Mattsun added. Seeing how Asami's close not only to a lot of superior gods, but also to Zeus' heart, he can easily turn her into an immortal like them, and then proceed like nothing happened. He did it a lot, so it won’t make sense if he won’t do it to Asami.

"Don't know. If all of them agree, then that will happen. Just like Shirabu’s?" Hanamaki said, making sure to choose his words carefully. He doesn't want to hurt Yamaguchi, but he doesn't want him to hope either. In a matter of fact, it's 50/50 right now. No one is sure what the outcome of their decision will be. Seeing it's been hours yet there still no rumors, it's better to expect for the worse.

With the two discussing what the outcome may be, Yamaguchi stayed silent. His mind was still replaying what happened in the courtyard, only snapping out when he heard a voice calling out to him. He frowned and looked around, not familiar with the voice at all. Down! Frustration was evident in whoever voice that is.

Yamaguchi looked down, only to see Oikawa Tooru, the mighty son of Athena, waving a hand to him like a fool. Oikawa gestured a wind after seeing Yamaguchi’s furrowed eyebrows.

Confusion immediately disappeared from Yamaguchi's face after understanding what he meant. Using the ability he received earlier, he made a wind current, and brought Oikawa up to the floating palace, Anemoi.

After a couple of seconds, Oikawa arrived, laughing at the enjoyable ride. It truly feels like flying, it might even be better! Matsukawa and Hanamaki looked at him disgustingly, not getting his questionable humor at all. "I have news." Oikawa said, switching to a serious demeanor. "It's about Asami."

The three stiffened. They were just talking about it earlier, obviously not prepared by whatever Oikawa might say. "Where did you get that news?" Yamaguchi asked. Oh how he hoped it's good news, or else he wouldn't know how to react at all.

“Well, I heard it from Kuroo who heard it from Bokuto who heard it from Atsumu who heard it from Suna.” Oikawa sat down the sturdy tree, glancing at the three’s confused faces. "You know Suna? Son of Hades." He asked, his companions nodding at him. “Heard it from him.”

“You could’ve just said that in the first place!” Hanamaki complained.

“Shut up Makki, I’m talking!” Oikawa yelled. "Well, he used his ability to sneak in the meeting. And gathered a bit of what they've discussed. He left after he accidentally locked eyes with his father, so it's not much." He chuckled, only imagining the wrath of Hades in his mind.

"Just get to the point, Oikawa. What do you know?" Mattsun asked, irritated by how chatty Oikawa is. He always get sidetracked, always adding useless information to whatever story he's saying. "The point, okay? The point." Repeating it since he know Oikawa doesn’t know how to listen.

"My Zeus, Mattsun!” Making a dramatic gesture, “I'm deeply hurt. I, the great god of wisdom and creativity, immediately went here after gathering information. Appreciate me first!" Complained Oikawa. Hanamaki can already tell he's lying, knowing his first go-to person is Iwaizumi.

“Oh, great god Oikawa Tooru, thank you very much for blessing us with your presence!” Hanamaki sarcastically praised. Yet Oikawa still loved it anyway. “Now just say it, Oikawa.”

Oikawa’s playful expression was immediately replaced with firmness. “It’s true.” He paused, wanting to be cautious. “What Yachi said.”

A sigh from Matsukawa,

Hanamaki’s startled facial expression,

And Yamaguchi’s lifeless eyes.

Every reaction they gave can tell how sadden they are with the news. “And.. Mother told me that,” Oikawa continued, staring at the cloud, unable to look at their faces. “The Olympians will send out deities to find the real daughter.”

“Well, that was unexpected.” Sakusa Kiyoomi whispered to himself while wandering at the park. “A mortal, huh.”

Silently enjoying his free time away from the deities, Sakusa took time in strolling away. He has plenty of time to waste before proceeding to do his duties, the reason why he came down in the first place.

However, he was absolutely not expecting to bump into someone. His eyebrows instantly met, he was already walking slowly. How can a person be so dumb to bump into him?

“Oh, sorry.”

Oh, sorry? His frown only worsens when they sprinted away after saying their apologies to him. Sakusa gazed at the person before him, the aura is different compared to other humans he interacted with.

It feels like..

Like he’s encountering a..

His eyes widen in realization, still staring at the person who’s almost out of his sight now.

A deity.

Anemoi - The floating castle in Aeolia. It is often where Aeolians are found. It has four temples; Glacithyia, Scortus, Forphyrus, and Aurus. All protected by the Four Seasonal Winds and their children. 

A/N: Hello! If there are any warnings that I should’ve put, please tell me! There are probably a lot of typographical errors, so please forgive me. I plan to edit all the current chapters next week. ^^ The adventure starts now! The next update will probably be next week, since it’s almost winter break. I just wanted to update before my exams begin, I hope I didn’t disappoint.  Thank you for reading!  send me an ask!  If you have any questions regarding the AU, I would gladly answer them. Or even reviews! It makes my heart happy ^^ 

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (2/?)

A/n: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Read Part 1

____________

Chapter 2: Getting Along

There was so much you still had to learn about mice and Salamandrian men; minus the mice part. You were surprised by V'gha's chattiness. Why, it was no sooner when you two had taken a seat that he began asking about your culture, interests, as well as to what you did for occupation. It seemed that he was fascinated by how both you and Zeta-7 lived; being that you were the only human he's officially met, he wanted answers for the questions which his home world's databases could not answer. You couldn't fool him when it came to your acquaintance with Rick as his neighbor, but you played it off by saying that he was the local mad scientist that everyone knew of but gave little importance to; it hurts you to say this, for he was worthy of the highest praise, with his extraordinary mind and his winsome personality, but V'gha was more familiar with Zeta-7 then you had known; it seemed Rick had a bigger reputation then you had thought, and the chemist hoped that he could make his acquaintance once all this was over; how he could be interested after all your initial rudeness was inspiring and in its own right.

You found his straightforward nature refreshing, albeit at times coming across as nosy, but first impressions at times gave allowances for this; to discover that despite how one may come across in passing, is not always the sincerest, true version of oneself. There was no malice or ill intent in his inquiries or reactions to your answers, and while you had redirected many of his questions, he didn't seem to mind; whatever you shared gave him delight. Over and over you wondered why Rick couldn't have been seated at this table, for this creature could have shared all that fascinated him with a fellow scientist and they could have debated in peace over theories and experiments; for your part, you would have sat there raptly, admiring the like-minded individuals who might or might not have been jealous at one point or another over understandings, discoveries and what not. As you two talked, you scanned the garden with your eyes, and searched for Rick, but couldn't spot his bowl cut anywhere; you trusted that he'd show up one way or another, but you hoped for sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you two discussed how fascinating the planet and its inhabitants were while making remarks on the flavor of the food  "My soup is thin and looks as though I stuck my foot in it, but it tastes like honey." you commented as you set your spoon back down. "I'm not sure whether to drink it or to jar it."

"Neither. It's what your utensils will go in once you are done eating."

"Oh, I probably shouldn't have tasted it then."

"No harm will be done." he chuckled, which exposed his fine, sharp rows of teeth. "I've taken the liberty of scanning it to make sure."

If Zeta-7 had been here, he might've tried the utensil cleaner on purpose in the good ole' way of tasting the chemical when he should've tested it. Yet, since he wasn't here, you were ready to admit that you found V'gha a bit more intriguing then you had anticipated. When you had initially boarded the ship and met him upon entering a cabin, you were determined to despise him for you didn't want to appear weak in front of strangers, but it melted away as he decided to apologize once you two had reached your assigned table. Sure, you weren't really into reptiles, but whether it was how his skin glistened in the starlight, his intellect, or how his bright oval eyes seemed to bore into you as you spoke, it was somewhat flattering; you thought only Rick could make you feel this way; hopefully, it was his simple charm and newfound politeness, and nothing more. To ease the anxious thoughts which were building in your chest, you glanced at the empty third chair. "Do you think Noathamas is in trouble?"

"I'm not sure." he confessed in all seriousness. "After all, he did violate one of their laws which was not to eat any of the guests. I don't know what came over him, but hopefully, whatever consequences come his way, will simply be disciplinary action and nothing more."

"Yeah, that would be good."

Though, you blamed the fact that the knight had returned from battle not long ago, and might've been triggered by something done or said; you hoped he'd survive. To distract yourself further, you stabbed your synthesized meal. It was a mass of congealed worm meal, and you pretended to eat it, but you weren't really hungry; it was supposed to be calcium-rich if you were correct. "So," you wondered as you pushed away your dish. "where you're from, do you do stuff like this?"

"You mean attend formal gatherings where I'm not allowed to have fun? Or meet total strangers that I'd rather study then stand next to? Hmm, more often than I'd like. It does have its perks. I'm highly respected in my field and get paid well, but I don't get out much unless it's work-related. A majority of my free time is used to study journals or to sleep. Occasionally both."

"That's a bummer. Not the studying part, because that can be fun if it's a topic you're passionate about, but you strike me as someone who enjoys good company. I'm surprised that at this point you haven't mentioned hanging out with friends or family."

The pause in conversation didn't seem long enough for your liking, but neither was it short enough to keep its natural flow. There seemed to be a distant, far off look, as though he were staring through you, at someone else; longing; one which would've gone without notice if you hadn't been used to reading people who were like Rick; intelligent, curious, lonely people who were less like normal men, but were no less mortal, and not quite a machine. When he started, you hadn't expected the familiarity in his words. "I consider my lab as my friend and my lab samples as my family. It's where I am most of the time."

Before you met Rick, would he have said the same? Almost, for his inventions and things bought, made, or salvaged held meaning; he was very sentimental but desperate to cling on to good feelings; maybe, these two weren't so different. "I used to feel the same way about the characters I wrote," you started, wondering if this was a good idea. Yet, now that you've shared this much, you couldn't stop now. "and the stories which I typed for others consumption and entertainment. It's as though you spill and pour a bit of yourself into these dreams and passions. As a famous singer once sang, 'You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.'"

"What a way to put it. I think I might've heard the song you quoted some years ago. I believe my satellites picked up the transmission."

You smiled at that. You had heard the stories, read the theories, and admired man's will of wanting to make contact with the unknown; if only they would have known what they were getting themselves into. It wasn't all bad, and could very much be as Star Trek would put it, 'To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before!' And to watch an intellectual man like Zeta-7 to almost wax poetic about the marvels and atrocities which were in the depths of space, and listening to how an alien admired what was in another quadrant of space, why it warmed your heart. "That's neat. It's funny," you admitted a bit quietly at first, then you raised your eyes towards him. "I'm not used to these kinds of events, but I gotta admit that it hasn't been so bad. You've made an otherwise tiresome task a joyful one."

You had long since noticed that his face was very stiff when it came to expressing emotions, but he still managed a smile that was no less winning. And unlike most of the evening there was an unaccountable silence. Till now, it seemed nothing could stop the Salamandrian from talking, but whatever had come over him went away as a danceable tune began to play, and you felt a subtle shift as he stood and wondered if you cared to dance. Keeping in mind the strict rules of this planet, you raised a brow, but he seemed to know what to do. "Come, I'll show you how it is done."

With a nod, you followed him all the while keeping a fair distance. Beneath your feet, you felt the bumpy path through your thin flats and relished the strong gust of wind that whipped your hair about. If you had closed your eyes, you could almost imagine yourself back home in Rick's backyard, remembering one of the first times you urged him to dance under the moonlit night, admiring how he colored when you realized it was a first for him; reluctant he stood on the patio unsure of what to do, but you smiled at him and told him there wasn't much to it because it was simply more romantic. Oh, how your heart ached for those days, but there wasn't much time to continue reminiscing, for you were dragged back to reality by the candor of the chemist's voice. "We're here."

On a raised platform was a honeycomb pattern of tiles, which illuminated when stepped on. V'gha took his place and stood very still until a see-through chamber enclosed him in. There was no panic or surprise, which led you to believe that he had done this before. In like manner, you followed his lead and took your place a few feet away and stood still until a chamber rose to encapsulate you in it. You felt a tightness in your chest, and took deep breaths in order not to panic, but a new tune began to play and it struck you with a sense of deja vu. 

A glance at the stage revealed the appearance of a tall, veiled figure surrounded by six guards. You pressed a hand over your heart, feeling it quicken as he swiftly, but gently passed his fingers over a golden orbed plant which had very stiff leaves, and when it detected movement, it vibrated, and this, in turn, caused it to emanate a sound a little more delicate than that of a kalimba. Its melody seeped into your bones, buzzing against your skin, and in it you felt a sense of belonging and warmth to a moment. Along with the veiled figure was the being made of pure energy, whose voice added body to the already beautiful tune; flowers bloomed at high frequencies, and thread-thin roots spread along the stage and dance floor; illuminating at rhythmic intervals.

You imagined yourself dancing with Zeta-7, on a plane of nothingness; submerged in a viscous sweetness then rising to the surface; floating, falling, losing yourself in a funny world, with every intrinsic, idiosyncratic, and inviting thing in your path; laced fingers, shared breaths, surrounded by his warmth, secure in the nearness of him, and sure in his grasp; he was incandescently happy, and he was as much yourself as you were of him. "C-can you hear me princess?" he whispered.

You could hear him, but you couldn't answer. Lips ghosted over yours, whispering phrases you thought you recognized; haunting you; trying to tell you something of the utmost importance, but the song ceased, and the figure was gone; breaking the trance you hadn't known you'd been under. When the chamber returned from whence it had come, you followed V'gha back to the table; confused, embarrassed, lost, but with a sense of knowing. You thought to yourself that the veiled figure could've been Rick, for who else could evoke such feelings except for Rick; that or it truly was a tune which was out of this world. "You're quite a dancer." he commented, which interrupted your thoughts.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything."

Taking a sip of his murky beverage, he explained. "There is no physical dancing done on this planet, except to those exclusively done by royalty and that of the Milleannos guardians. What the rest of us did, including yourself, was dance with our soul. None of us can really discern what the other is dancing to, which makes it appropriate and is in line with the laws, but while the others might not have understood what you were about, I could tell from the bliss which you exhibited on your face when we came back this way. It made me conclude you had enjoyed yourself. Call it instinct, but I believe this is the happiest you've been all evening."

Again, he wasn't wrong. Yet, how could you not know? It's possible that Zeta-7 didn't know it would take place either. You remembered how you felt, how real and tangible it seemed, but if that was the case, were you really dancing with Rick, or the idea of him? Did it matter? 

The music now, albeit stimulating, was light and nearly silent as though someone was lightly humming. It was not as provoking as the tune earlier had been, but perhaps the experience you had was exclusive to your own feelings. "I did enjoy myself," you replied. "did you?"

"It was fascinating," he admitted smoothly. "but I much more prefer the view of all twenty-nine of this planet's moons. I cannot study the intangible thought of a feeling."

"If it helps, I much would've preferred regular dancing, but the experience...it's… it's one I wouldn't mind trying again." 

One you wouldn't mind trying again, but only with Rick.

Tbc