#it did not help that i got really into making clay buttons
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A fancy moth Goblin I made this week.
#my art#handmade#plushies#sewing#handmade plush#i love how they came out#moth#i guess#i am probably going to make a cape inspired by wings#goblin#it took a while to Finnish them#i started in August but then life happened#it did not help that i got really into making clay buttons
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In The Way I Need You | Part 1
Series Masterlist
➪in which joey starts school and clay realizes he might have to listen to his mothers advice of hiring a sitter, but quickly warms up to that after idea meeting a seemingly sweet girl while on his way to work.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“Clayton Beresford, get up,” the sound of his mother’s voice made Clay cringe as he grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head. “Clay, get up. Joey has been asking for his dad for the last half hour, you need to get up.”
Clay groaned as she ripped the pillow away from him and threw it on the opposite side of the bed before walking over to the curtains and pulling them open. “Mother,”
“Don’t mother me, Clay,” Lilith scolds as she moves back around the bed and stands over him. “You need to get ready for work, and get Joey ready for school, it’s his first day.”
With a huff, Clay sits up and throws the sheets off him. “You couldn’t have gotten him dressed for me?”
Lilith scoffs, walking towards the door. “I made him breakfast, you can pick out his clothing,” and then she was gone and Clay was left alone in the bed that felt all too big for just one person.
Looking around his room, he sighs at how messy it had gotten since his last attempt at cleaning it. He grew up damn near spoiled and never had to worry about cleaning his room or making his bed, so now at the age of twenty seven, he was terrible at both those tasks.
He looks over at the right side of the bed, and more specifically at how empty it was. That spot should be filled. She should be here, with him and with their son, but life really enjoys playing with him sometimes.
Sighing again, he gets up and throws on his work clothing, which really felt more like a formal event outfit than anything else. He finishes buttoning up his white shirt as he enters the kitchen, his eyes instantly landing on his son. “Hey, buddy,” he greets as he leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Did you have a good sleep?”
Joey nods and sets the crust of his toast down on the plate. “I’m still tired,”
Clay laughs and picks up the half eaten toast. “You are?” He asks and finishes his kids breakfast, his mind going back to when he was Joey’s age and also didn’t like crust. “You went to bed pretty early last night. Unless you were just pretending to be asleep when I came and checked in on you.”
Joey shakes his head quickly as Lilith laughs from her place at the sink, her arms crossed as she blows on the coffee mug in her hand. “No, dad,” he answers as he stares up into Clay’s matching blue eyes.
“No?” Clay hums, picking up the now empty plate and walking over to his mom.
She stays still as he reaches around her to set the plate down in the sink, a teasing smile on her lips. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger,” she stated. “You’re aware of that, right?”
Clay laughs and nods, looking back at his son as he scribbled on a blank piece of paper with a yellow crayon. “I know,” he agrees, looking down at his mom’s attire. “Are you staying home today?”
Lilith glances down at her housecoat clad body with a shrug. “I’m wrapped around that kid’s finger, too,” she grinned, finishing off her coffee and putting the mug in the sink as well. “I’ll get my work done early so I can be here when he gets home, but I really think it’s time we start looking for a more stable sitter. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I think you should consider hiring a nanny.”
Clay sighs and moves away, standing behind Joey and placing his hands on the back of his chair. “I said I’d think about it,” he muttered. “I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.”
“It’s not a bad idea to have someone here to look after him while we’re at work. Someone to get him to and from school, helps get him ready in the mornings,” she pointed out. “Like a nanny.”
“He doesn’t need a nanny,” Clay mumbled, reaching a hand up to flatten out Joey’s messy hair. “I don’t want my son growing up in that kind of environment.”
“You had a nanny when you were little, Clay,” she reminded as she moved away from the sink. “You turned out pretty well.”
“I’m a single dad at the age of twenty seven, mother,” he rasped. “And I still live with my mother.”
“I told you I never liked that girl, Clayton,” she scolded as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. “And I also told you that this is your home for as long as you want it to be. You want to move out, fine, but then who will be there to help look after Joey? No one. Unless you listen to me and hire someone to do it.”
And then she was disappearing down the hall to get ready for the day. Grunting under his breath, Clay leaned down and pulled Joey’s chair out. “Come on, let’s get you dressed,” he held his hand out, grinning when the much smaller one grabbed it.
-
The phone rang five times before Clay was sent to voicemail.
He wasn’t surprised, but the silence still irked him. Glancing at his driver, Clay turned a bit and tried to make it a little more private, but he was literally in the backseat of a car on his way to work. How private could it really be? “Hey, it’s me again,” he started, not missing the way Rick, his driver, glanced back at him. “Joey started school today. Can you believe it? Our son started school.”
Rick straightened up at the harsh tone of Clay’s voice and quickly put his attention back on the busy street of New York, surely sensing that this would not be a nice voicemail.
Clay paid him no mind as he continued, “He’s four now. Did you know that? You should, he’s your kid, too. You should know how old he is and you should’ve been there for his first day of school,”
He wasn’t entirely sure if his ex even still used this number, or if he was just making these calls for nothing. She must, seeing as her voicemail hasn’t gotten full yet, and he’s been giving her these updates for the past three years now as a way to cope with not having her in his life anymore.
Clay knew she didn’t deserve to know about what’s been going on in Joey’s life, and he knew he shouldn’t be wasting time leaving her messages, but he couldn’t help it.
He didn’t know if he wanted to rub it in her face about how good of a parent he turned out to be, or how amazing their son is. He just wanted her to know that she royally fucked up when she decided to leave before Joey even turned one.
“You should’ve been there, Sam,” he said again, his voice wavering as he let his anger that had been building up since she left get to his head. “How the fuck could you do that to him? To us?”
Clay looks out the window and sees that he’s almost to the building in which he would be spending the next eight hours in.
Sighing, he wraps up the call. “Whatever, Sam. I hope you realize one day how much you’ve missed out on and how much our son has missed out on,” he muttered. “Not that you even care. Delete this, listen to it, do whatever you want. That’s what you’re best at.”
And then he hung up and was left feeling even worse.
It always ended that way, with him heated up with anger and with Sam probably feeling great at the fact that she is still able to rile him up without even being there.
Rick pulls off to the side of the street and looks back at Clay. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Beresford,”
Clay scoffs quietly, shrugging off his jacket since his skin had begun to sport a thin layer of sweat from how annoyed he got during the one-sided call. “Mr. Beresford was my dad,” he says, leaning back against the seat. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet. He was so frustrated and didn’t want to accidentally go off on anyone in that building because he still isn’t over his ex. “It’s just Clay. You know that.”
“I do,” Rick nods, sending him an apologetic smile in the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, Clay?”
Nodding, Clay looks out the window. “Everything is fine,” he lies as he watches a girl pace back and forth on the sidewalk. New York was a massive place and not easy to navigate through, but it was clear that she was new here. She wore a pale pink skirt and a white top that ended just above the hem of the skirt, which is not something people here usually wear.
Clay has lived here a long time and the people of New York were stereotypical in the way they wore their favorite sports teams logos on their clothes or baggy jeans and a t-shirt.
Most of them didn’t care and didn’t put a lot of effort into their appearance, simply because no one would notice. It was why he got a lot of stares whenever he walked around in dress pants and a tie.
The girl looked confused and lost and Clay felt a bit bad for her. Even he got a bit turned around at times, and he’s lived here his whole life. He owns half of it, too.
He also couldn’t ignore how pretty this girl is.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his ex in years and he hadn’t let himself look at any of the women in the city as a potential partner as he was overly protective of both his son and his heart.
Or maybe it was because he simply felt bad for the girl and her clear lack of directions.
Whatever it was, it had him opening the car door without much of a second thought.
-
“Fuck,” you muttered as you looked up at the street sign then back at the paper in your hand.
After living in New York for the last couple weeks, you were beginning to think you would never get to know your way around it. The place was massive and so confusing to navigate through if you didn’t know where you were going, and you clearly didn’t.
You had been waiting to hear back from this job for days now and when you were finally given a chance for an interview, you couldn’t figure out how to get there. Your coffee did nothing to wake your brain up enough for you to be able to think clearly, and you debated on just throwing the rest of it away, but you were raised not to waste food or drinks when there are others who are less fortunate than you.
With an annoyed sigh, you stopped walking and stared down at the page again, not paying any attention to the car you were now standing beside as the door opened and someone stepped out.
You don’t look up from the paper as you move forward and walk straight into another person, your coffee slipping from your hand and spilling onto the pristine white shirt of a man. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, not noticing that the page that held the address had also gotten soaked from the spill. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”
It was the least of your worries as your eyes trailed up and met a pair of blue ones. Your breath hitched as the stranger smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t care at all that his white shirt was now stained with warm coffee. “It’s okay,” he said and his voice lived up to his appearance. Dreamy. Hot. Intimidating, even.
“That looks expensive,” you think out loud when you look back down at his ruined button up, then quickly wipe the worry off your face and replace it with fake confidence. “Which is totally fine, I can pay to have it fixed or cleaned or…whatever.” Really, you most likely couldn’t afford to do that, but he didn’t need to know that.
The stranger laughed and it was probably the sexiest thing you had ever heard. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off and took the napkin from you when you held it out to him.
You chew on your bottom lip as he begins to wipe up some of the coffee, though you both knew it wouldn’t do a thing to save the shirt. “Were you just going to work or something? I’d hate for you to have to wear that for the rest of the day,” you gestured to the mess on his shirt but he just shrugged and threw the napkin into the trash can that was nearby.
“I was actually debating on whether or not I should go home and skip work, then I saw you and thought you looked a little lost,” he grinned at the way your face flushed and how your cheeks were tinted pink. “Thought I could help you out a bit but ended up wearing your drink, instead.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m so sorry,”
“It’s fine,” he brushed you off again then looked a bit hesitant as he added, “I’m Clay.”
He holds his hand out to you, making you look down at it before back up at his eyes. “Y/n,”
You shake hands and hate how you found yourself wanting to hold his for much longer than a few seconds. “So, in hopes I don’t sound like a total creep when I ask,” he begins, giving you a somewhat nervous smile. “Where were you trying to get to?”
Laughing, you shake your head and look down at the ruined paper. “No, not at all,” you say, throwing the paper into the trash as well. “It’s that obvious that I’m lost, huh?”
Clay shrugged again, stepping back towards the car and opening the backseat door. “Only a little,” he teased and pulled out his jacket, efficiently covering up most of his shirt. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, if you want.”
You knew you were late for the interview, but you wanted to stay and talk with him for a bit longer. What was wrong with you? Why do you always do this around cute guys? Though, calling Clay cute felt a bit like an understatement. He was by far the hottest man you had ever seen in your life. “Please,” you say quietly, stepping towards him. “I was trying to get to this interview at the Milton Hotel, but the directions were hard to understand even before I got coffee all over them.”
Clay laughs and closes the door, turning around and nodding towards the intersection down the street. “You were pretty close, believe it or not,” of course, you wanted to say but held back. “You just take a left at the lights and go straight for about three blocks until you reach a bookstore that’s across from the old jail.”
He turned back to face you and you realized you were barely paying attention to his directions as you were far too focused on how good his backside looks.
“The hotel is above the bookstore,” he finished and you gave him a grateful smile. “So, not too far now.”
“Thank you,” you say and look down the street, not quite ready to leave the presence of him.
Maybe he didn’t want you to leave, either. “What’s the interview for? If you don’t mind me asking,”
You wave your hand. “Not at all,” you say again. “Just some babysitting gig. I finally got my CPR certificate and know how busy New York is. Thought it would be a good place to start.”
-
What are the odds..
Clay nods and tries to come off as casual as he leaned against the backdoor of the car. “Babysitting? Do you have much experience?”
“Yeah, about three years worth,” you answer, fidgeting with your fingers and Clay found himself hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable with all his questions. It had been too long since he actually let himself talk to a girl for more than a minute since Sam, so he was glad to see he was still able to decently hold a conversation. “I did it a lot through high school.”
“Yeah? When’d you graduate?” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know so much about you, but it was clear the two of you got along pretty well for two strangers. He was sure he could hook you up with a job if you didn’t get this one, and now he was once again wondering why he cared so much.
“Two years ago,” you replied and it didn’t seem like you were uncomfortable with him at all, so he decided to try his luck.
“Well, I hope the interview goes well,” he says and thinks about how he wouldn’t mind having someone like you around his son for the hours he was at work. Though Clay has some massive trust issues, he knew he would need to find someone to look after Joey soon. “And if it doesn’t, there’s many other opportunities that are waiting for you in this city.”
“Yeah?” You gave him a teasing smile and Clay had to physically hold back a smirk in response. “Like what?”
Clay stiffened a bit as he chose his words carefully. “You said you’re a babysitter, right?” And when you nodded, he continued, “My son started school today, but he still needs someone to watch him until I get back from work. If that is something you’re interested in, there’s an opportunity for you right there. But I’m sure the interview will go great.”
You study his face for a bit, making Clay think he said something wrong, before you grin up at him. “Thanks for the boost of confidence,” you soften your smile. “I might take you up on that offer, if your kid is cool, that is.”
Clay laughed as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “He’s the coolest kid in New York, that’s for sure,” he says and hands his phone to you. “Let me know how it goes? And if you’re interested in looking after the coolest kid you’ll probably ever meet for a few hours of your day.”
Your laugh reaches his ears just as you take his phone and quickly type in a number, one he hoped was actually yours and not a fake one. He couldn’t lie, it wasn’t often he asked for girls’ numbers, but you seemed sweet and like you knew what you were doing. Except for when it came to reading directions, but even that was understandable. He was also doing this to give his poor mom a break, and to make sure his son was in good hands when he was gone. “I’ll text you,” you promised as you handed him back his phone. “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”
He took his phone and pocketed it. “It was nice to meet you, Y/n,”
You begin backing away as you smile at him. “You too,” you wave. “Sorry again about your shirt. You wear that coffee well, if it helps.”
Clay laughs again as you turn around and begin heading down the street in the direction of the lights.
The window of the car rolls down and he briefly hears Rick clear his throat. “I’ll pick you up at four, Mr. Beresford?”
And Clay was far too distracted to be able to correct him again, so he just nodded before tearing his eyes away from your retreating form and heading into the building.
-
Clay had gotten held up today and he had to text his mom and ask if she could pick Joey up from school. He knew it would be so much easier if he had a stable sitter to ask, and he was quickly beginning to agree with his mothers requests of hiring one.
While Clay wanted to be the one to pick Joey up from his first day, he was glad he would have his grandma there. He knew his mom was probably his son’s favorite person, and he couldn’t even get mad at that fact because Clay had to admit; Lilith Beresford was an amazing woman and an even better mom.
As he began packing up his things, his mind drifted back to you for what felt like the tenth time since meeting you all those hours ago. He didn’t know what it was, but Clay felt captivated by you.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t let himself get close to another girl since Sam, let alone have a full on conversation with one.
Maybe it was because he found you cute and sweet and a bit funny.
Either way, he was thinking about you as he shrugged his jacket back on and over his stained shirt at the same time his phone went off.
He checked it as he turned off the lights to his office, a genuine smile finding its way onto his lips as he read the text,
The interview was a fail. I think it was over before it even began. Any chance I could set up one with you? Very curious about this supposed coolest kid in New York.
And when you added a,
This is Y/n, by the way. The one who ruined your shirt because I have no sense of direction.
He knew he was probably screwed.
#clay beresford#clay beresford imagines#clay beresford x reader#clayton beresford#Clayton beresford x reader#clayton beresford imagines#hayden christensen blurb#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen smut#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen edit#hayden christensen icons#hayden christensen gif#hayden christensen#awake 2007#awake#in the way i need you series#in the way i need you
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The Boyfriend Experience
Summary: It's all fun and games until somebody falls in love!
Pairing: callboy!Clay Roach x afab!CEO!Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Content Warnings: Porn With A Side Dish Of Plot 18+!, Drinking, Oral (F Receiving), Clay Being A Tease, Sex Work, Hair Pulling, Pet Names, Poorly Hidden Feelings, Emotional Constipation
A/N: This one is for @spookyorchid 🖤 Sending you lots and lots of love, hun 🫶🏻
Tagging the horny horde: @crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-lover @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp
Slow, slow hands
Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry
No, no chance
That I'm leaving here without you on me
- Slow Hands by Niall Horan
You couldn't wait to get your sore feet out of those heels that had been tormenting your every step since around lunch, they looked absolutely fantastic, though. Trying to shift your weight away from the thin stiletto connecting your foot with the floor underneath, you stepped into the elevator and pressed for the 10th floor, holding your purse tight to your body.
The men standing right next to you with his hands shoved into his pockets didn't go without you noticing. Shiny brown hair that reached his shoulders, the upper part neatly tied into a small bun to not look completely out of place in contrast to a slim-fitting, black button-up shirt. You tried to keep a straight face but a small, quick smirk escaped regardless.
Not a word was exchanged whilst the elevator made its way further up and the silence was equally kept as both of you got out on the same floor. He knew and respected the fact that you needed your time to cool off after a whole week of keeping a company afloat. Opposed to the calm, the beeping of your key card against the electric lock seemed almost harsh.
Only a few swift steps left until you could finally step out of your heels. You tossed them off your aching feet with such vigor that they clinked against the shelf your key card found its home for now, right next to an already prepared red envelope. You nearly groaned out loud as the pressure gradually eased off and you felt nothing but smooth, neatly waxed acorn tiled against your soles.
Right after tossing your purse next to the shelf, you headed into the kitchen area of your loft apartment in the search to quench your thirst for a hefty glass of wine. Instead of bothering with actually pouring one, you raised the bottle straight to your lips and took a long swig.
“Rough week, huh?” Mid-gulp you turned your head to the side where Clay leaned against the door frame, arms loosely crossed in front of his chest and an understanding smile playing around his lips.
“Massive understatement.”, You returned after swallowing the fruity, rich red, “Remember Alice?”
“Your new secretary that started last month? Yeah, what's with her?” Clay raised his brows slightly.
“Had to kick her out already. Missy got blackout drunk at the outing on Wednesday and started getting a bit too touchy with Jake from finances before puking all over the restaurant restroom.” With the memories of that evening resurfacing, you pinched the bride of your nose and sighed.
“I really liked her, you know? But that's downright unacceptable behavior.“, You treated yourself to another swig of wine before holding the bottle towards Clay, “Want some?”
“Certainly not opposed to it.”, He took you up on the offer, helping himself to a sip as well, “Wow, if that has been your Wednesday I can imagine how the rest of the week went. However, I'm sure I can make you relax a little, no?”
“Oh, I'm certain. You never disappoint, honey.” The smile forming on your face was genuine and so was the bubbling buzz that caused your stomach to flip whenever you did so much as just look at him but that he didn't need to know of at all.
“Always glad to hear that, ma'am.” The cocky smirk he threw your way jolted right down amidst your thighs and you couldn't help it.
“Ma'am?”, You pushed yourself from the counter and took a step towards him, “That's a new one.”
“Thought I switch it up a little. Like the ring to it?” The smirk on his lips grew up to a full fledged grin as he equally strode forward, meeting you halfway.
“Certainly not opposed to it.” You teased, your eyes roaming over his chest, admiring the way the fabric stretched across it before looking back up into his glacier blue eyes.
The need to get simply get lost in them tugged at your heartstrings but you held yourself tethering at the edge, trying to keep your composure and this client-seller relationship intact.
“Whatever pleases you, ma'am.” Clay lowered his voice to a gentle whisper, seducing you right away with just his voice before leaning in and pressing a deep kiss to your lips.
The taste of the wine accompanied by that of menthol cigarettes slipped into your mouth alongside his daring tongue stroking across yours, exploring curiously. Fuck, you couldn’t just allow him to sweep you off your feet so easily. There were boundaries that had to be kept at all times but the ones protecting your heart had been crumbling all over the place for weeks now.
You reciprocated the kiss whilst forcefully holding back from pressing your whole front against his. Instead, you teared yourself from the kiss with an artificial smile adorning your face.
“I reckon you want my tongue somewhere else, hm?” Without hesitation Clay followed you out of the kitchen, leaving the bottle of halfway finished wine behind.
“Not only eye candy but smart as well.” You quipped, taking a comfortable seat on your sofa and leaning back whilst spreading your legs and allowing your skirt to ride up your thighs.
“Always at your service, ma'am.” Clay stated, placing himself between you and the sofa table, not breaking eye contact once whilst lowering down on all fours.
“I know, you're such a good boy for me. Now come here and let me forget about that week for a little.” As the words were rolling over your tongue, you felt the heat creep into your face and your cunt throbbing around nothing…for now.
The sight in front of you was one for sore eyes. It had your breath hitching as Clay made his way towards you, nimble fingers shooting up to pull your lace thong to the side. Just the way his fingertips ghosted over your swollen clit elicited a moan to trickle from your lips.
“ ‘M gonna take good care of you.” He cooed, his warm breath breezing over already and thoroughly soaked folds right before leaning in.
“Shut up, boy.” You managed to huff out, the sensation of his tongue parting you until it worked its way up to where you needed it to be taking over rapidly.
It rendered you reckless with desire in mere seconds and thus you didn't hold back from burying your hand in his tied-back hair, dishevelling the bun by shamelessly pulling at it to shove his face into your aching cunt. At that Clay groaned out, the vibrations against your core sending a shiver down your spine. In this instant you couldn't care less about the shitshow that was your workplace this week. Fuck Alice and all the damage control you've had to do because of her. For now all that mattered was Clay's skilled tongue drawing languid circles around your pulsing clit as his lips gingerly closed down around it.
“Feels so fucking good.” You murmured, allowing your head to loll back and your eyes to flutter shut in waves of bliss.
Clay knew how to handle you properly, doubling the pleasure coursing through your veins with two fingers which slid inside of you, caressing, massaging you from the inside in slow, careful strokes just right as you liked them to.
Clay hummed in approval, the full width of his tongue lapping at you, nudging all the right places with each bold lick. This was without a singular doubt the highlight of your week; every Friday at 7pm sharp. No fuzz, no beating around the bush, just blowing off the steam accumulated throughout the week and then both of you moved on with your life's until next week. Absolutely no strings attached, you lied to yourself to keep your face not only towards Clay but to yourself as well. Meaningless banter, an orgasm, a few hundred bucks and then dash. Uncomplicated unlike an actual relationship you had no time for anyways.
“Uh-Huh, right there.” You sunk deeper into the sofa, your breaths rendering more shallow one by the next one as you sensed the pleasure coaxing you past the point of no return.
Each flick of his tongue brought you closer to ecstasy until you kept yourself from holding it together and instead plunged right into the fireworks going off from every nerve ending in your body. Not really giving a damn about his ability to catch a breath, you shoved Clay's face against you, rocking your hips at his tongue as you rode your orgasm until the very last contraction ebbed away and left you satisfied.
“Delivered as always.” You pulled Clay off of you by his bun, astray strands of wavy hair falling into his face as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“My pleasure.” He returned as he pulled your thong back into place before straightening up again.
The both of you exchanged quick glances, you nodded your head towards the shelf, gesturing towards the envelope.
“There's a little extra for you in there.” You pulled your skirt back down as the words suggested to him that it was time to leave now.
“Oh, you spoil me, ma'am.” Clay took the notion and turned to leave you to your weekend.
"Outstanding performance deserves recognition.” Your eyes followed his every step and, before you could push it right back where it was meant to stay, your stomach dropped in a surge of longing.
The need to have him stay, to curl up next to him whilst dozing off in post-orgasmic bliss took the reign for a split second.
“See you in a week, handsome.” You forced the words out of you to snap back into the reality of things.
“Looking forward to it.” Clay blew you a kiss before he threw the door shut on his way out.
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Hickeys // Sapnap
Date: 12th of October 2022 (Originally; 13th of June 2021)
Published: 22nd July 2021
Member: Sapnap
Type: Fluff, semi NSFW, Female reader
TW: Bruising
Word count: 4018
Summary:
Nick likes to place hickeys, like a lot. Y/n doesn't mind whatsoever, but there is a problem. Her brother is extremely protective of his little sister.
// MASTERLIST //
Y/n POV
"Thanks, Liz," I thanked my friend as I got out of her car. "I'll text you tomorrow or so okay?" I was staying at my brother's at least for tonight. He had invited me over since we don't get to see each other that often, so it was nice. There was one problem tho.
"Of course, also, do you really think you can hide. You're wearing a scarf in the middle of summer," she pointed out.
"I know, I know! But you know I don't wear - a lot of - make-up, I don't have foundation, and your skin tone is very different from mine."
"I know, all I'm trying to say is that you should just tell him, okay? Now have fun! See you later!" With that, she drives off leaving me in front of the apartment building. I sigh, pulling at the scarf around my neck a little bit, feeling so sweaty already. Not sure if it was because of the scarf or my nerves peaking. Swinging my overnight bag over my shoulder I walk to the panel by the door, looking for number 201. I ring the bell patiently waiting for someone to open the door. It could be one of three people.
"Hello?" George's voice came through, uncertain.
"Hey, it's Y/n, could you let me in please, it's hot as hell out here," I tell him and I hear him scream through the apartment 'Y/n's here!' before he presses the buzzer.
"See you in a bit!" He says before I can hear him put the phone back on the horn. I open the door and walk through, straight to the elevator. It was so much cooler inside! I press the button and wait for the elevator to come down. I stand back a little when it arrives, not wanting to be in the way of anyone who could come out.
"Hey babe," is the first thing I hear when the elevator doors open. My eyes widen as I look up at Nick in surprise. He walks over to me, pecking my lips quickly, then taking my bag.
"Wha- why would you come down?" I ask confused but follow him into the elevator.
"Because I wanted to see you before Clay," he says like it's obvious. "When he's there I can't do this," he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer placing his heavenly soft lips on mine. The kiss is soft and gentle, which comes as a surprise to me but I enjoy it nonetheless. After a short while he pulls away, I stare into his gorgeous eyes a blush on my face.
"Yeah well, you're gonna have to deal with it, just like me," I tell him and shove him a bit away. "Because of you I have to wear a fucking scarf in summer," he chuckles at that, shaking his head, a smirk on his lips.
"I might have to take advantage of that scarf and create some more before I can't," he starts coming back over, but I push him back while giggling.
"Don't even think about it! I am fucking sweating!" We finally reach the 20th floor and Nick opens the only door on said floor. Yes, Clay, George and Nick owned a penthouse and it was fucking beautiful. It had 2 floors and the first floor was basically an open floor plan.
"I don't know if you brought any swimwear, but we're out on the balcony by the pool," Nick says as he closes the door behind us. He took off his shirt as we walked through the apartment and I try so hard not to look.
"I did, but you and I both know that I can't take off this scarf," I tell him with a pointed look. He chuckled, dumping my bag on the couch in the living room.
"Oops," he says turning around to stick his tongue out at me. I roll my eyes and watch him run to the balcony, the glass doors wide open, and jumps straight into the pool. Clay getting splashed as he managed to land right next to the man relaxing on a blow-up mattress.
"WHAT!" Clay instantly yells and I can't help but giggle loudly at my brothers startled expression.
"I'm sure you needed some cold water on you," I tell him as I walk outside and sit with George at the table that is covered with a big beach umbrella.
"Ha ha, very funny," Clay fake laughs. "Why don't you come in, see how you like the cold."
"Nah, I think I'm good," I chuckle, I watch as Clay and Nick start play fighting in the water. A bright smile gracing my lips. 'God, if only'.
"Y/n, it's like one of the hottest days yet, why are you wearing a scarf?" George asks after a while, probably having battled himself about asking or not beforehand.
"I- I get cold... easily," I try to lie tho it's obvious. I can tell he doesn't believe me but decides to drop the subject for now. Thank goodness for that. I turn, looking at Nick and sent him a glare, not that he noticed.
If you haven't caught on yet, Nick is my boyfriend. Has been for a bit over a month now. Clay doesn't know this and we both want to keep it that way, at least for a little while longer. We like each other very much, but just in case it doesn't end up working out. I don't want Clay to have to worry about it. Along with the fact that he would probably smack Nick the moment he knew he had laid his hands on me. I like Nick a lot and I don't plan on letting that idiot go any time soon but I also don't want to ruin their friendship. Especially since I know how protective Clay is of me as his younger sister.
Nick had been over at my place yesterday and left a few very noticeable hickeys on me. I had gotten pretty used to them, hell, I loved them if I was being honest. Made me feel loved and to me, it just showed how possessive he was over me. It made me blush just thinking about it.
"You're staring at Nick for an awfully long time there, Y/n," George whispers, startling me out of my daydream.
"I am not, I don't know what you're on about," I tell him but I can tell he doesn't believe me from the smirk playing on his lips.
"Hmm, yeah, okay, sure," he smirks, sending a wink my way. 'Wait! Does he know!?'. "Yes I do know, do you honestly think Nick could keep it to himself for this long?"
"I-" I sigh and shake my head. "I guess not," you knew how excited Nick could get. I just pray to god he hadn't told Clay anything. Then again, if he knew I would have known by now.
"Anyways, you know he'll find out sooner or later," he says, gesturing with his head to Clay. "You might wanna tell him before he finds out."
"I know," I sigh and look away from George.
"Alright, what pizzas do you guys want?" Clay asks and he drops his ass down on the chair next to me. Nick sat in front of me, George next to him. It was now past 7 in the evening, the sun now luckily having moved behind the apartment building so we had at least some shadow and it was slowly cooling down.
"Can I have BBQ Chicken and Bacon?" I ask giving him pouty lips, not that I needed too but he chuckled anyways. He added it to the order also adding his own, Nicks and Georges.
"Alright, they should be here in tops 30 mins," he announces, placing his phone down on the table so we can all see the app as it shows us what Dominos is doing with the order. "Now, sister dearest, mind telling me why you're wearing a scarf?" Woah, straight to the point, huh? He props his elbow on the table, leaning his head on his hand.
"I am just cold," I try to sound as convincing as possible. But he obviously sees straight through me.
"Hmm, yeah I don't believe it," he says shaking his head. 'Okay, now what? I guess I could just show him and not tell him who made them? Ugh, well here goes nothing I guess'.
"Okay, fine, I'm not cold," I sigh and with a bit of hesitation I take the scarf off. From the corner of my eye, I can see Nick trying to hold back a smirk as his hickeys on my skin slowly come into view.
"Y/N! WHAT!" Clay instantly bursts out in overprotectiveness. "Who do I need to beat!"
"Calm down, you don't need to beat anyone," I tell him, rolling my eyes.
"Fine, I'll just have a nice talk with them, so who?"
"It's no one important, just some guy at a friends party," I lie as I look down at my lap. As long as I don't look at him he can't tell I'm lying, right? I look up slightly at Nick who, looks back at me, and is biting his lip. Probably just as scared about telling Clay the truth as I am. I will be begging on my knees just to make sure Clay wouldn't smack Nick just over a few bruises on my neck. "Please just let it go, I am fine okay?" Just then the bell rings, Clay mutters a fine and goes to answer the door.
"I don't get why you guys can't just tell him," George states when he's sure Clay is out of ear shot.
"Did you not see how he just reacted?" I ask him like it's obvious. "I am sorry, but I would rather not have him smack Nick in the face over hickeys."
"Look, George, I wanna tell him," Nick starts, sighing slightly. "And I don't mind if he hits because I know he is protective of, Y/n, but we're both scared it will change the friendship we have."
"Alright fine, but don't you think it's better that he hears it from you instead of finding it out himself?" The question leaves both Nick and me silent. I glance at him with a defeated look, knowing that George is right.
Eating is slightly awkward after that, but we still talk and joke around a bit. Soon enough it's 11 ish and I'm in the guest bedroom by myself. Sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and face in my hands. I am so mad at myself for not being able to tell my own brother what's really going on. He deserves to know, but what if it ruins his friendship with Nick! I don't want that to happen. I don't want that guilt. I hear two knocks on the door, knowing it's Nick, I answer yeah, not moving from my position.
"Hey," Nick says quietly as he enters the room, closing the door behind him. He walks over to the bed and sits down next to me. Gently taking my hands away from my face. "Look, I know we planned on waiting," he says while he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. My head falling onto his shoulder as soon as I'm close enough to do so. "But I think we should tell him."
"I know," I pout slightly but he's quick to bend forward and take it away with a soft lingering peck. A small smile gracing my lips when he pulls away. "I am sorry in advance."
"Eh, it will be fine," he chuckles softly. "Might get punched, but I'm sure I can deal with it."
"Should we tell him tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I think we should," he sighs slightly and I can tell he's at least a little bit scared. He turns to look at me again placing his lips on mine again. I smile into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands lay gently, yet tightly on my hips. "No matter the outcome tomorrow, I am not letting you slip away that easily," he says once we pull way, our foreheads pressed together.
"Good, cause the same goes to you," I smirk, nuzzling his nose with mine sweetly. "I like you too much to just let you go."
After one more goodnight kiss, he leaves the room to go to his own. Agreeing to tell him when we see him first thing tomorrow morning. I would have preferred it if he stayed, so we could cuddle, but I knew we couldn't risk Clay walking in and finding out that way. So with a sigh, I settle into bed and try my best to sleep. I mostly end up staring at the ceiling as all types of scenarios of tomorrow run through my mind. Grabbing the pillow from beside me I shove it in my face. 'Just sleep!' I tell my mind.
Morning comes quicker than I thought, the light coming in through the window waking me up gently. Today is the day. With a big yawn, I sit up and stretch. I look around the room for a sec before my eyes settle on my bag. Climbing out of bed I grab a simple pair of shorts (no, not short shorts, how in the hell is that comfortable anyway?) along with a plain white v neck shirt. I swiftly change my underwear and bra, jumping into the clean clothes and then make my way out of the bedroom. Going into the bathroom, I leave the door open as I brush my teeth with the spare toothbrush Clay had bought for me months ago.
"Morning," Nick says as he walks in, he had his own bathroom - lucky him - but it kinda became routine for him to join me whenever I was here. I sent him an awkward smile while brushing my teeth through the mirror. He grins, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. His head gently resting on my shoulder as he still looked tired. "You nervous?" He asks softly, I nod before tapping his arm. He lets go of me so I can spit and rinse.
"I am, do you know if he's awake yet?" I ask as we leave the bathroom, walking towards the kitchen. "What time is it anyways?"
"Uhm, about to be 10 I think, and I have no clue. It is Friday tho, could be going grocery shopping," he answers opening up a cupboard, taking out two bowls. I go and grab the milk carton from the nearly empty fridge, setting it down next to Nick as he fills both bowls with cereal. I hop on the counter sitting on the corner, right next to him.
"Thank you," I smile when he hands me my bowl along with a spoon. He comes closer standing between my legs as we both eat in silence for a bit. "Do you think he'll react differently because he knows you?"
"I am not sure, I hope it gives me some type of immunity but I wouldn't be surprised if I would still get a scolding from him," he answers. Setting down his bowl and taking mine from me he moves closer. Wrapping his arms around my waist he sighs excessively when his head leans on my shoulder. I smile softly, pecking the top of his head, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sure it will be okay in the end," I squeeze him a little, getting a chuckle from him. Moving his head, I feel his lips connect to my neck. My cheeks immediately heating up with a blush. "Nick-!" I whisper yell as he starts leaving gentle kisses all over my neck.
"Shh, just let me have this," he shushes me, going back to littering my neck with kisses, sucking every now and then. I knew exactly why he was doing this. He was nervous, he needed a distraction and right now, sucking hickeys was the best distraction. I bite my bottom lip, trying not to moan, just in case one of the two others living in this apartment would hear it. It just always felt so good when he did this. He was so gentle with it, yet rough when he would bite my skin. After a while I gently pull the hair on the back of his head, getting the hint he pulls away from my neck. I look into his gorgeous eyes for a second, before closing my own and connecting our lips in a sweet kiss. Wrapping my arms tighter around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue playing with mine in a teasing manner.
A sudden thud and objects rolling over the floor makes us jump and pull away from each other. There in the doorway stood Clay and George, I could see the latter roll his eyes as he walked in and placed his bags on the island.
"You're kidding," is surprisingly the first thing that comes out of Clay's mouth. When no one answers he shakes his head. "You know what, get out of the kitchen. I- I need to think," Nick is quick to pull me out of the kitchen. I look back in shock. Now, this was definitely not how I was expecting him to respond. We end up on the balcony sitting at the table in the shade.
"Well, there goes the plan of just telling him," Nick says in defeat.
"I guess so," I mumble, playing with his fingers nervously. "I don't know what will happen now."
"Me neither, but I think it's going to be alright," his phone dings. "George is talking with him while they're putting the groceries away," he informs me.
Third POV
"How did I not realize?" Clay mutters as he put all the fridge items away. "Did you know?" He asks George who is packing away in the storage closet. A sigh coming from said closet confirms his suspicion.
"Look, I haven't known for long, basically a week at most," George tells the somewhat angered older brother. "But I know for a fact Nick likes her very much."
"She's my little sister-"
"I know, but you know Nick. He would never hurt her on purpose," leaning his head against the fridge door, Clay bangs his head on it once. George chuckling at the sight. "Y/n is also old enough to make her own decisions, alright?"
"Ugh, I know," with a frustrated sigh he walks over to a pillar leaning against it, looking out to the balcony where the couple sat. Y/n had a bright smile on her face as the two talked. Nicks hand holding hers, his thumb stroking comfortingly on the back of her hand. "Is it bad that I hate that they look cute," George laughs, clapping his hand on Clay's shoulder.
"That's brotherhood for ya I guess," with one more sigh, Clay starts walking towards the balcony. George following behind him. Y/n's eyes widen when she notices the two walking over.
"Look, Clay, we were gonna tell you," she says and clay could hear the fear in her voice.
"It's okay," he tells her, sitting down beside her.
"Really?" Nick asked unsure if this was real.
"Yes, but I swear, if you hurt my sister, you're actually gonna get smacked," Clay chuckles as Nick pulls Y/n into his embrace, her back against his chest. Giving her a gentle peck on the cheek, and Clay can't help but be happy for his little sister and best friend. They looked so happy together. He for sure knew Nick was a whole lot better than any other person Y/n had dated before him. Not that there were a lot, but they were dicks nonetheless. "Just please, don't cover her in hickeys too much, cause I do not wanna see that," A blush instantly forms on Y/n's cheeks as she shrinks into Nicks embrace.
"I am sorry, I'll do my best to hold back," Nick says with a smirk on his lips.
"Thank you, Clay."
11 months later - Y/n POV
"Are you sure, Clay and George will be gone the entire weekend?" I ask Nick as soon as we enter the apartment.
"Yes I'm sure, now I actually get to spent alone time with you babe," he says tickling my sides as he pushes me into the bathroom. "Now go change, I'll be in the pool when you're ready!" With that, he runs off to the pool.
"Idiot," I chuckle closing the door to the bathroom. I swiftly change into my bathing suit pulling on the edges feeling just the tiniest bit self-conscious.
After a little pep talk to myself, I make my way to the balcony. Looking from behind a pillar I notice Nick in the water, floating on his back with his eyes closed. With a grin, I run for the pool and jump in right next to him.
"Oh, you're gonna get it," Nick says as soon as I reach the surface. I giggle, squealing when I get splashed with water. Diving underwater I swim away from Nick. "Oh no you don't," Nick chuckles swimming after me. Hands take hold of my waist, stopping me from swimming any further. Nick turns me around, bringing us up from the water. "Gotcha," giggling I wrap my arms around his neck.
"God I missed you," I tell him, playing with his wet hair. We hadn't seen each other for two weeks as both of us had been busy, but we were sure to keep this weekend free for our first year anniversary.
"I missed you too," leaning in he gives me a gentle peck. Moving is slowly to the edge of the pool. "Hmm, I think that neck of yours is a bit too clear for me," he smirks instantly diving for my neck. I squeal feeling his lips layer kisses upon kisses. Sucking and biting on my skin making me moan scratching my nails on his back at the amazing feeling. We had gone pretty far already over the past few months but it still felt new and so exciting every time. I wrap my legs around his middle, squeezing him tight. Biting just below my jaw he makes his way up, kissing his way to my lips. We stare into each other's eyes breaking contact every once and a while to deliver lingering pecks.
"I love you," I whisper sincerely, my brain wants me to look away in case of rejection but I will myself to keep staring into his beautiful eyes. I can see shock shoot over his face but it's quickly replaced with a gentle smile. Leaning forward he connects our lips, the kiss filled with passion making me almost forget he didn't say it back. It gives a tiny pinch of pain in my heart, but I tell myself it's alright. He could just not be ready to tell me and I need to accept that.
That night we end up on the couch watching a movie, tho I wasn't really watching. I cuddled into Nick's chest, him gently stroking my back as he tries to gently lull me to sleep. When I'm close to falling asleep he quietly whispers four words to me, making me grin just slight as to not give away I was actually awake.
"I love you too."
I hope you enjoyed this oneshot! Let me know what you think and maybe hopefully stick around for a few more!
#dsmp fanfic#dream smp#dsmp#dreamsmp x reader#dreamsmp x you#dreamsmp x y/n#sapnap x you#sapnap x y/n#sapnap x reader#dream team#mcty x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#cc!sapnap#cc!dream#cc!george#cc!mcyt
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Return to origin band together chapter 3 clay and viva
The group of five have been on the road for a couple hours now Bruce decided to take over the wheel with Tiny who is content laying against him.
It was getting quiet in Rhonda so Bruce decides to turn on the radio and Watch me work is playing. "Oh, my kids love these guys. We’re a total Veneer household" He says grinning. "They’re the ones who have Floyd!" John Dory tells him. Bruce winces "Oh sorry I had no idea" Really he didn't, it wasn't like anyone told him their names all they said was that two famous pop singers held him captive.
"That’s Velvet and Veneer’s spicyhot new single “Watch Me Work.” Catch them tomorrow night at the Rage Dome where they’ll be receiving the Lifer Award." The announcer says on the radio before Bruce turns it off. Tomorrow night? "Guys, will Floyd even make it through that show?" Branch says rightfully worried Floyd was only one troll there was only so much talent he could give.
"Don’t worry. We’re gonna make it.We’ve been looking for clues to find Clay" Poppy says putting up a piece of merchandise on the clueboard. Branch's eye twitches at the statement. "Oh, I’m sorry. The clue board? You mean my clue board?That I made?We like the clue board now?!" He asks them both annoyed who just ignore him.
"Uh what is he wearing?" Poppy asks pointing at Clay. "Oh those are just his....." it hits him like a bat to the face. "Funderdrawers!" He says as he realized there could be a way to locate Clay. He goes over to a glass case where the funderdrawers were located and breaks the glass releasing a horrible smell that actually causes him and Poppy to gag it was so bad on their noses.
But bad as it was he could easily pick up Clays scent and if he could do it then Rhonda could as well. "John Dory, I have no idea why you saved these.It’s incredibly disgusting,but I’m glad you did." He says grinning as he grabs a stick from his hair. "What? They’re memorabilia.But I will be good goshdarned if I know how they’re gonna help us find Clay." He says crossing his arms.
"You'll see" Branch says smirking as he heads to the front of Rhonda and holds out he drawers with a stick. "Help us, Rhonda." He asks and she sniffs them and then let's out a low rumble. "Alright she’s got the scent!" Branch exclaims glad his plan worked and heads back in.
They then head to the drivers seat where Spruce and Tiny are. "Hey, Tiny. You see that button?" John asks pointing to a orange spiral button that has the word hustle over it. "Uh yeah" He replies smiling. "That beautiful, shiny button?" John asks smirking he knows how kids are with bright shiny buttons.
"Oh, you mean the button that is taking every fiber of my being not to press? Yeah, I see it." He says lukring around the button. "Press it" John says giving Tiny the ok. "Awww heck yeah! Let's do the hustle baby!" He says jumping on the button and Rhonda speeds up like crazy and soon jumps into a weird portal and well.....it got weird.....very very weird.
Branch wonders if he somehow took a ring pop again but ring pops usually don't do this?! And then soon they see a weird hustle guy? Who helps speed them up even more and soon drops them off and the trolls land on the ground dazed and confused at what just happened.
"Wow.Too much hustle is a thing" Poppy simply says as she shakes her head. "Huh. Look at that" Branch says as he waves his paw back and forth seeing the rainbow effect still there. Though after a few minutes it fades away.
The soon arrove at some weird abandoned place did Clay really live here? "Are we sure this is where Clay lives?" Branch asks go make sure. "Are we sure?Our GPS is an armadillo bus sniffing used undies. So, no, we’re not sure" Tiny replies from the child strap that Bruce has on.
The group walks out in the dark and look around. It was....creepy. that's for sure. That's when Branch and Poppy catch something. This smell it was Clays smell! And it was fresh too!"Guys Clay is definately here I can smell him" Branch says turning around to his brothers only for them scream at him. "What?! He asks worried something was behind him. "Uh Branch your eyes are glowing" John says pointing to him.
Really? That's a new one on him. "Yeah it's kinda freaky to be honest" Bruce says. "And very much terrifying" Tiny says almost wanting to hide in Bruce's hair. "Wait are mine glowing?" Poppy asks them and they nod hers were glowing pink while Branchs was glowing blue. "Huh why did nobody tell us?" She asks confused. "Wouldn't you two have noticed?" John Dory asks. The two trolls look at each other, to them their eyes looked fine and weren't glowing at all.
"They don't look like they are glowing to us" Branch tells them. '"Ok but just please don't pull anymore surprises I can only take so much" John says holding his chest. Ok that's weird and new how long have I been able to do that?' Branch asks himself when his ears twitch. He hears something, it sounds like footsteps and he can hear ever so distant whispering.
He then smells it, trolls they lived here...wherever this place is. They smelled like Pop trolls but also not like Pop trolls something was off but what was it? He continues to smell as if that would provide him with answers much to the confusion of Bruce and Jd. It was so weird seeing their baby brother smelling the air and acting like a animal.
"So uh are we gonna talk about you know the whole....that situation going on?" John whispers to Bruce as he gestures to Branch's body. "I thought you did?" Bruce tells him.
"No I was waiting on him to tell us and if he didn't I was gonna ask him after we rescued Floyd" John answers Bruce thankfully Branch was too focused to hear them whispering. Meanwhile Poppy is wondering why she could smell Pop trolls even if it was a slightly different smell. Also why did she smell a scent that was familiar to her? It sort of smelled like Dad and also herself?
The two could hear movement around them but even with their nightvision the movement was too fast they would only be able to catch a glimpse but whatever they saw were....round? Branch unsheaths his claws ready to defend himself if need be.
They keep heading inside albeit cautiously. "Halt!Who goes there?" A giant clown head booms out at them. The group rightfully screams in fear as Branch and Poppy puff up in fear. Branch then bares his fangs,claws out ready to attack at any second this clown shows hostility. Tiny terrified out of his mind hides in Bruce's hair.
Branch feeling brave goes closer to the clown much to John Dory's and Bruce's shock. "Branch what are you doing?!" John Dory asks as he doesn't want his brother to get hurt or even killed by this giant clown. "Listen,we don’t want any clown related trouble, okay?
We’re just here looking for our brother Clay" Branch explains to the clown
"Wait a second.You’re trolls?" The clown asks the group. "Yeah and so what? Your a clown" Branch says not wondering why the clown is asking this. The clowns mouth opens and out pops a yellow ball? 'Wait...why does this smell alot like Poppy?' Branch asks himself. He backs up ears pinned back and claws ready to defend himself as the ball uncurls and its.....a pink troll with yellow hair?
"Oh, my gosh. Hello!My name is Viva!It is so fantastamazing to see other trolls!" The newly named Viva says before quickly going to give everyone a big hug. To be honest this Viva reminds Branch of.....Poppy and the fact that Viva smells so much like Poppy is too big of a coincidence.
"So, fantastamazing is my own personal word. It means, um, fantastic and amazing.
I used to say amastic,but then I was like, Hmm, that’s not as good." Viva explains talking super fast,again like when Poppy gets super excited about something. This is painting a picture that Branch is both liking and not liking at the same time.
Poppy isn't faring too much better herself to be honest this is just ever so slightly overwhelming her,this Viva reminds her of well herself. "Fantastamawesome" Poppy says trying to match her enthusiasm. "That’s different, but that works too.Way to make it your own" Viva tells her smiling.
" Is this how people feel when they meet me?" Poppy whispers to Branch. She really needs to know becuase if so she will definitely tone it down a bit for first meetings. "Yes" He simply replies,it's good to know that Poppy now knows what it's like when you first meet her and just how overwhelming it can be.
"Am I being a lot? Sometimes I can be a lot" Viva asks a bit nervous. She doesn't mean to be honestly! It's just been so long since she has seen other trolls she kind of got a bit carried away.
"I’m not sure we’re in the right place" Branch stammers out. "Course you’re in the right place. Any troll is welcome here with us. Okay, PuttPutt trolls. Lights on for our new friends!" Viva says clapping her hands and a bunch of trolls come out and the lights turn on revealing a beautiful place.
"Woah" the group says in complete awe at the scenery. "Oh, my gosh.Are you guys hungry? Are you thirsty?" Viva asks the group with a smile. "Yes!" Tiny exclaims both excited and hungry.
"Fries? Fries! You guys want fries.I am seeing fries!" She says as the putt putt trolls head out to get some fries and food. Milkshakes to celebrate! Coming in hot!" Viva exclaims as a bunch of putt putt trolls bring food like fries, a sundae and a giant milkshake that Viva drinks surprisingly fast much to the amazement of the others.
"Whoohoo! That’s better. Now I finally have some energy!" Viva exclaims somehow even more energized. 'I don't think she needs anymore energy as she has more energy than the five of us combined!' Branch says sarcastically in his head. Viva suddenly jumps past Poppy and wow she somehow managed to braid Poppy's hair so fast!
"Did you just braid my hair?" She asks surprised. "You’re welcome. It looks so good." Viva says complimenting her. "Oh my gosh I love it!" Poppy says tail wagging. Viva catches sight of it. "Is that a tail? Oh my gosh it is! It's so cute!" She says adoring it as she gently pets it,she knows better than to pull a animals or a trolls tail,though she has never seen a troll with a tail but hey she won't judge. "I know right?! I love styling it! And it's so good to use and helpful it's like having a third arm!" She says curling it happily around Viva's wrist.
"I've always wondered what it would be like to have a tail" Viva says when she notices Branchs tail. "Uh please don't touch" He tells her albeit kindly he knows how people are when they see his and Poppy's tails but he isn't about to let a complete stranger whom he just met touch it.
Bruce takes a bite out of the fries and they were surprisingly good,not as good as his wife's cooking nothing could beat her cooking,but it was still pretty decent. "Wow,these fries are amazing. They’d really go great with a burger" He compliments Viva only to hear the other trolls scream in fear and run.
"Uhm was it something I said?" He asks unsure as to why they acted so scared? He just complimented the food and offered some advice?
"Yeah, we try not to use that word around here. It’s just that burger sounds a little too much like, uh…Bergens" Viva says whispering the final part but it still causes a reaction out of all of the other trolls who once again scream.
Then Branch picks up on a familiar scent and the sounds of approaching footsteps "We call burgers…meat circles" Clay says revealing himself. The trio of brothers look at the once called 'funboy' of the group and well.....he certainly has changed. His once yellow hair was now a lime green,it was his real hair color he just changed it to yellow when they would perform and for photoshoots and such. Though now it's much more crazy looking.
He also has gotten a lot taller they were pretty sure he was taller than all of them. "Clay?" Branch asks him just to be sure tail wagging in happiness John could feel the tail hitting the back of his ankles and looks back at the limb. 'I don't know if I will ever get used to that' he thinks to himself.
Meanwhile Bruce chuckles at seeing Clay again "Clay,what's up man?" He says chuckling as ge gives him a old fashioned handslap. "Hey how you been man?" Clay replies back happy to see his older brother again. "Clay!" Joh exclaims hoping that one of his younger siblings would he happy to see him again other than Floyd. "Hmm John" Clay simply replies much to John Dory's heartbreak.
"Spruce! What do you know?" Clay asks wanting to catch up on well everything. "Actually, I go by Bruce now" Bruce explains to him. "Bruce,oh,Someone got fancy. I like it" Clay says with a smile giving him a thumbs up. "Look who’s talking. Is that a sweater romper?" Bruce asks with a chuckle he never thought he would see Clay wearing something like that.
"What can I say? When you corun a place, gotta flex the drip" Clay says stretching the rhomper before snapping it back. "Yeah, I’m the fun side of the operation, and Mr. Clay takes care of the boring stuff" Viva explains to the group. "Guilty!" Clay replies laughing when he catches sight of Branch. He freezes at what he is looking at. Just what happened to his baby brother?! Why did he look like that?!
"Baby Branch?! What happened to you?!" Clay exclaims taking Branchs face and examining it feeling longer fur and WERE THOSE FANGS?! "Actually it's big Branch now or just Branch. Branch is fine" He says wanting to deflect the situation he really doesn't want to talk about his whole situation right now also he isn't really a big fan of the touching at the moment but he is holding out for his brother.
"Branch that's not important what happened to you? Your all furry?! You have paws! Grey paws at that!Fangs! And for sugars sake you have a tail!" Clay says gently taking the.fluffy limb only to have it pulled back from him. "Its nothing really" Branch says wanting to deflect this entire thing he really really doesn't want to talk about this it just brings up bad memories for him.
"Branch this isn't nothing. I was wanting to wait until you told us about this or well after the mission was done but please we want to know what happened to you" John Dory tells him. "Yeah trolls don't go through changes like these normally so what happened to you?" Bruce asks worried about him. All they wanted to know was what happened to him and was he ok?
"I said it's nothing so drop it for now and leave me alone!" Branch yells at them almost snarling as his fangs are fully bared,ears pinned back,fur bristling,claws out and tail lashing but what he doesn't know is that his pupils have shrunk giving him a almost feral look.
Everyone looks at him shocked but also almost a bit scared but they shouldn't be scared of their own brother....but that look in his eyes that wasn't normal for a troll to have.
Poppy seeing that Branch is reaching his limit decides to step in for him. "I'm sorry about that, we don't like to talk about it much but I can give you a short version. We ate a extremly rare fruit that caused this transformation is all. We are completely fine right now and aren't in any sort of pain ,and after everything is said and done I promise I will tell you more about it later okay?" Poppy explains to them hoping that will stop them from asking anymore questions for now.
"Alright fine but after we rescue Floyd we want some answers okay?" John asks hoping that will placitate him. Taking deep breaths Branch tries to calm himself down and soon his fur goes down and his claws retract as his pupils go back to their normal size. "Alright but don't bring it up again until then got it?!" He tells them and they all nod.
"Wait rescue Floyd? What's going on? What happened to Floyd?" Clay asks worried for his younger brother. "That’s why we’re here. Floyd’s been taken prisoner in Mount Rageous
by superstar singers Velvet and Veneer" Branch explains. "And the only thing powerful enough to free him is the perfect family harmony" Jd,Branch,Bruce and Poppy explain in unison.
"Okay, either they just made that up,or I have not been paying attention" Tiny says surpirsed at how little he has been paying attention to everything."Well, why haven’t you just called the authorities?Oh wait, unless Floyd is being held in an impenetrable diamond prison" Clay asks getting it right in one go.
"Yeah exactly that" John says surpirsed. "Well I’m definitely in.I’d also like to volunteer to keep track of our expenses. Just cause I think you’re gonna need somebody to be on top of that" Clay says wanting to leave asap to save Floyd but he was worried about Viva.....would she let him go is the question. "Yeah, I don’t think you’ll get any pushback on that front" Spruce says.
"Great, but we need to leave for Mount Rageous, like, now" Branch says wanting to leave asap they were short on time. "You can’t leave now. You just got here.Come on. Let me show you around" Viva says taking Poppy by the paw as Poppy's hug time bracelet goes off.
"Hug time!" Viva says giving Poppy a hug and wow she is so soft! "Oh my gosh you are so soft!" Viva compliments her. "Yeah I get that alot" Poppy says happily hugging her back. The brothers however weren't hugging,well Jd holds out his arms but nobody goes into them with various degrees of no. They were reunited yes, but that doesn't mean it's all cupcakes and rainbows and they can just hug.
"Aww that's so cute,where'd you get that hug time bracelet?" Viva asks it looks.....very familiar to her to be honest it looks like....her old one she lost a long time ago. "My dad gave it to me" Poppy answers her.
'Her dad? Could it be?' Viva mentally asks herself,no no don't get too hopeful yet Viva. "Okay, this is so totally random,but I used to have one just like it. Can I see that?" She asks and Poppy takes it off and puts on Viva and to her surpirse it's a perfect fit. "Oh wow it fits you perfectly" Poppy says surprised.
"Yeah" Viva says not as excited. It looks too much like her old one. But it can't be can it? To test it she rings her finger around the petals and it reacts the same as it always had. "Woah" Poppy says astonished she has never seen it do that! Meanwhile Viva is looking at the bracelet in disbelief. It was her old hugtime bracelet! But then that would mean.....
She looks back up at the pink troll. "I'm sorry,what did you say your name was again?" Viva asks her. If her hunch is correct then that mean the troll in front of her was..... "I'm Poppy" She says introducing herself with a smile with the same overbite she sees in the mirror all the time albeit with some new fangs.
Poppy? Was it really her? There could always be another pink troll named Poppy but still the chances are so low its crazy but still she asks one more question "Poppy?" She asks as she begins to wakm closer and closer to her face checking for anything that seems out of place,well other than the longer fur. She gently pushes back a piece of Poppy's hair. Meanwhile the brothers were looking at eachother confused but Branch seems to understand what's going on but he would still like a confirmation on his theory.
"Okay, um, another totally random, weird question but is your dad King Peppy?" She asks she has to make sure. "Uh yeah?" Poppy replies confused as to why Viva was asking so many questions. "You’re,Oh, you’re you’re alive!" Viva says picking up Poppy and spinning her around in a hug. She couldn't believe it Poppy was alive after all these years!
"I'm alive?" Poppy says confused as to why Viva was acting like this. Though there was something familiar about Viva's smell as she spun her around it smelt...nice. "This is unbelievable!I never thought I’d see you again!" Viva says the happiest she has been in she doesn't even know how long! "Uhm again?" Poppy asks,this troll was being very confusing right now.
"Poppy it's me Viva!" Viva exclaims as if that provides the answer as to what's going on. "Uhm..." Poppy says not knowing what to say to that,she is so confused right now. "I'm your sister!" Viva explains to Poppy much to Poppy and the brothers shock. Viva couldn't believe it! Her baby sister was alive!
"My,my what?!" Poppy says shocked.Her sister?! She has a sister?! "Your sister. Your hermana!" Viva tells her taking her paws in her hands."Woah" Branch says shocked, he had a feeling they were related as there were too many things Poppy and Viva had in common,but he was thinking cousins, not siblings!
"Hey, man. Am I the only one without a long lost sibling?" Tiny asks feeling annoyed at how many 'long lost siblings' were showing up. "Yes I'm sure Tiny Poppy and I were there when you hatched" Branch answers the small glitter troll.
"What do you mean, we’re sisters? How could I have not known about you? I can’t believe Dad didn’t tell me I have a sister. That is…" "So dad" Poppy says in unison with Viva. They know their father a bit too well he was always a troll full of secrets although when they get back to troll village she is certainly going to talk with him.
"Oh! I can’t believe this! I’ve always dreamt of having a sister! I was just saying this! Wasn’t I just saying this?!" She says surprised as her tail wags like crazy, but she was so happy! Its funny how just earlier today she was talking about wantimg a sibling of her own and turns out she does!
"This means we can plan each other’s birthday parties!" She says already forming ideas. "Yeah and weddings!" Viva says matching her energy.
"Yes!My best friend had her wedding,and it went off without a hitch. I was the best maid of honor" Poppy tells Viva. "You’d be the best maid of honor" Viva says complimenting her and matching her speed of speaking, if Poppy was anything like Viva they would be the best maids of honor. "You and Bridget are gonna love each other!" She says starting to talk really fast again when she gets super excited.
"I’m gonna love her!I love what you love!" Viva says excited. "YES!" They scream in unison as they take eachithers hands/paws.
Viva and Poppy are just adhd to adhd communication
#trolls#trolls 3#branch#poppy#broppy#return to origin#jd#john dory#Spruce#Bruce#Clay#viva#trolls viva
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NEST 2022
We just got home from NEST 2022- and AH! It was SO MUCH FUN!! I just want to share a few of my highlights as I really pushed myself out of my comfort zone this time and I’m really proud of myself!
I checked off one of my New Years Resolutions of playing with someone new this year!! And it was with someone I’ve had a tickle crush on literally since NEST 2019!! Since Clay and I have been open, I haven’t played with anyone else, and I’m just really ecstatic that I got to this weekend!! Yes I lee’d.. twice.. but maybe it was a trap all along to get revenge at the next gathering~
Also acquired a Spongebob gummy shish kebab for showing up to session lol~
WE MET SOPH @sophucking-kinky AND ZACK @silly-panic !! IT WAS THEIR FIRST NEST AND WE GOT TO HANG OUT WITH THEM. IN. PERSON. I’ve literally known them online longer than Clay.. and it was so wonderful and honouring to hang out with them!! Cannot believe they like a gremlin like me!! ❤️
We also played Mario Kart with them, and listened to The Wiggles~
And we met the THE AMAZING ARTIST @yourhardnerdcollector !! We met him by surprise, he showed us his work and I recognized it immediately!! SO AWESOME to meet him!! Such a cool guy, and it was so honouring meeting him and hanging out! Please go follow his accounts and enjoy his talent!
I HAD FIVE GUYS FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME!!
I also had Fritos for the first time too and omg so good.. new favourite snack probably lol
I actually found the courage to enter the tickle colouring game (where you colour in a picture while being tickled~), and I surprisingly WON by amount of votes on it!! EDIT MAY 6th: Just found out winning tickle colouring means I won a free NEST ticket for next time!! 🎉
On Sunday I wore a very revealing outfit of fishnets and a crop-top! I’m not used to showing that much skin (especially my tummy) and presenting feminine, so it was a big step for me to wear that all day in front of 150 NEST attendees! But I really wanted to, and I’m happy I did because I felt cute and sexy af!! Ya! :)
Allison alliron-art was at NEST selling cute kink and sexuality buttons + customs! I got this custom-made androgynous button with a feather!! She was super awesome and her stickers are cute, please go check her out!
For the tickle auction, you use Rhino Bucks (the auction currency) to buy people, and you can collect more by volunteering, helping, doing a demo or class- but Clay and I received extra Rhino Bucks for tickle fighting in a giant inflatable unicorn~
And lastly, I’m just overly proud of myself for sticking to my boundaries, like waiting until I was comfortable to play with someone new, and saying “no thank you” when I needed to! I’m really happy I could bring my more confident, grown self to this NEST! I did a lot of socializing and hanging out in the public play room! I’m very to myself and awkward (I think) but there were a ton of really cool people that made me feel comfortable to be myself and open up more! Yeah, at this NEST I made so many good connections I honestly feel like I’m making true friends and potential play partners (if it goes in that direction!) and I’m just really excited to stay connected and see where it goes! Definitely wanted to play with so many people but I can’t pick-up play!
This NESTing season was wonderful~! Staff did another amazing job keeping it a fun, safe place! Thanks to everyone who attended and made it special! And thank you to those who love our content and came to introduce themselves! It’s honestly so flattering!! So looking forward to future events! ❤️
#we fledged from the NEST 🥺#anyway running on like 5 hours of sleep so sorry this is feral lol#my posts#NEST#NEST 2022#tickle community#tickles#my writing#text
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Headcanon Time: The Sculptor
So I feel like I ended up having quite a few thoughts behind the choices I made for some of the elements of The Sculptor that I wasn't able to fit into the fic itself, and can't really make narrative extras out of either, so I'll put them here! For today's Thoughts(™) I want to talk about something I'm (mostly tangentially) passionate about - fashion!
I had a couple of people in the comments over on AO3 mention/chat with me a bit about Lan Wangji's jarringly anachronistic clothes, and it's something I absolutely 100% did on purpose and with a lot of thought. (I can't help it, I overthink everything.)
But anyway - It's the 70's, right? It's supposed to be leisure suits and bellbottoms and polyester everywhere! Why is Lan Wangji dressed the way he is? 3-piece wool or linen suits. Ties. A hat. I did this very much on purpose, and the reason is that I like to think that in modern AU's - no matter what the decade itself is - Lan Wangji always feels and looks a bit like a man out of time. He's old-fashioned partly because he was raised that way (Lan Qiren is the textbook definition of tradition no matter the setting), but also because I think he just genuinely likes it. I think he likes the sense of dignity and respect afforded to the past by the people in the present. I think he resonates a lot with people who are significantly older than him and more likely to be as serious of a person as he is, and I think that informs a lot of his choices. But more on that later.
With the fic being set in the 70's, and Wangxian being in their late 30's (which I can't remember if I directly mentioned or not in the fic itself but probably not), that means that they were born and raised during the 1940's-60's. They're already mature adults by the 70's, and while yes people that young were absolutely wearing the fashion of the day, I think Wangxian would have been a lot less likely to completely indulge in it, established in themselves and their lifestyles as they already are by the time they meet.
[headcanons about Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and Wen Qing - with photos! - under the cut because naturally this got out of hand]
First: Wei Wuxian
I'm only going to touch very briefly on Wei Wuxian because I have fewer thoughts on his clothes (and no example photos because I feel like it's too vague to search for anything specific). I think Wei Wuxian's clothing wouldn't feel out of place in any decade - because he's broke. When you're broke - and all your clothes end up covered in paint/clay/chalk/etc. anyway - you find pieces that don't show too much wear and tear, don't ever really go out of fashion, and you stick with them. (Source: I'm a broke ceramicist who still wears the Owl City graphic tees they bought in 2011 every single week because I give no shits). I think Wei Wuxian's wardrobe is a lot of sturdy jeans/trousers and a fairly even mixture of t-shirts and soft button-downs - flannel or cotton, soft and durable materials - that he can wear and work hard in without having to bother with too much fuss when it comes time to do laundry. Neutral dark colors, because they don't show stains as easily. Sturdy boots or shoes that he won't have to replace every winter because again - when your income isn't steady, you learn to pick up good pieces and do everything you can to hang onto them and repair them.
So - I think Wei Wuxian's wardrobe is very blue-collar, comfortable and work-hardy clothing that he's had for probably at least a decade if not longer by the time he meets Lan Wangji. Everything's in decent repair, but he's definitely not too worried about looking fashionable which actually ends up making him pretty timeless and fashionable in his own way no matter the decade.
Now: Lan Wangji
Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, my beloved. I adore this man, y'all. I just needed to get that out there.
I spent a lot of time while writing this fic thinking about Lan Wangji's life and choices, more so than I did anyone else's. While the perspective bounces back and forth between him and Wei Wuxian, and I did actually start the fic intending for it to only be from Wei Wuxian's perspective, I realized really quickly that it's actually really Lan Wangji's story, since he's the one who really goes through a visible growth and change in the narrative - opening himself up to the vulnerability and unexpected joy of learning to ask for things he'd never expected to have. This kind of hesitation and repression in his character had to come from somewhere, and while yes a large part of it is a conservative society's views of homosexuality in general, you have to consider where those ideas came from first in the course of Lan Wangji's life. Which would be Lan Qiren.
Lan Qiren is uptight and tradition-bound, conservative in all areas, and extremely concerned with right and wrong. In a society that saw a significant uptick in liberal counter-culture during his nephews' teenage/young adult years, I think Lan Qiren would have overcorrected and been extremely strict in teaching young Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen what he thought was right - politically, economically, and socially. So you end up with this very very rigid and unforgiving academic upbringing that could have pushed either of the boys towards more radical lines of thinking (I very briefly mentioned Lan Xichen in the epilogue as living with two partners, and I think there's a lot I could explore there in terms of Lan Xichen responding to this strict childhood by becoming an avid supporter of the free love movement as well as becoming extremely active in the queer/kink community in a larger, more liberal city as an adult), but you also have to keep in mind just how much Lan Wangji respects his uncle and looks up to him as a parent. Lan Qiren was the first authority figure to show him (and Lan Xichen) any sort of emotional stability, any kind of image to look up to and attempt to emulate, and that's important to Lan Wangji's character in so many ways. Mannerisms, behavior, career choice, and - yes, the actual point of this post before I got sidetracked by Lan Qiren AGAIN - Lan Wangji's fashion.
A lot of people seemed to be thrown off by picturing Lan Wangji in a much more 1950's sort of look, but that's exactly what I wanted, confusion and all! Lan Wangji took so much inspiration from a man who was probably born around the late 1900's or maybe 1910, and who we can assume grew up in an equally strict and traditional household to have become the man he did, perpetuating his own upbringing when it comes time to raise his nephews. This means that in my mind Lan Qiren is the sort to dress in a way that's really more antiquated than just old-fashioned, sticking with some of the silhouettes that are more indicative of the turn of the century and when he changes anything about his personal style doing so very slowly - and not necessarily hitting the same beats that society does when they happen. By the time he's raising the Jades he's firmly established as an academic and has little reason or incentive to change much of anything about himself, which equally-stubborn little Lan Wangji admires. His uncle is always so beyond reproach, so stern and unwilling to bend to societal whims that seem useless and arbitrary when they don't pertain to anything he deems important - of course he starts emulating him. And Lan Qiren encourages both of the Jades to follow in his footsteps, which he sees as being the best (read: safest) path for their lives, so he encourages anything they do that ties into that. Which is why, in the 1970's, we end up with a Lan Wangji who wouldn't look at all out of place a few decades prior - why bother reinventing the wheel when what he wears is tied so closely into his perception of himself (and Lan Qiren by extension) as an upstanding and righteous man?
(I'm not saying Gregory Peck as the stern and unyielding but ultimately very loving father Atticus Finch was formative for me as a kid, but I'm not not saying it either. I mean just look at him.)
(As far as Lan Wangji's hats go, I like to think of him in either the top right or the bottom left, long hair gathered up inside it to keep it off his neck.)
All of this makes him stick out quite a bit in the setting of the 1970's, but unlike his homosexuality, his fashion is a way to stand out that he has actively chosen and fully embraced by the time he's an adult. Of his numerous peculiarities, this one is maybe the most acceptable to people in general because it fits so well with the reserved and haughty air that he has (or is assumed by others to have). It's comfortable for him, and so long as it stays respectable then he has very little reason to change.
Last but not least: Wen Qing
I didn't flesh Wen Qing out too much in the actual body of the fic to keep from clogging up the Wangxian storyline, but she's precisely what I think we would expect from 1970's Modern Woman Wen Qing. Were it not for her family's tradition and her own passion for medicine, she would have chosen to become a Women's Studies professor instead of working in the biological sciences, although there's also a lot to be said for her choosing to work in a male-dominated academic field like this. She had fully intended on becoming a doctor when she was younger, but with her family's financial situation and Wen Ning's fragile health she just wasn't able to make it work, and has instead committed herself to staying on the leading edge of scientific and medical breakthroughs and then sharing everything she can find with her students, many of whom will go on to become doctors/nurses/etc. themselves.
This woman Takes No Shit, and everyone who sees her knows this immediately. (Lan Wangji, Understatement King, about Wen Qing in chapter 3: “I have it on good authority that she is…intimidating.”) She absolutely does not buy into gendered respectability politics any more than she absolutely has to - in the context of the fic, she'll sit down for three (endless) hours with the neighbors whom she assumes are expecting her to play the perfect housewife to her old-fashioned husband and indulge their assumptions as much as she can stand, but she absolutely will not compromise on anything that truly matters to her. She and Lan Wangji are equal partners in their house and share the duties appropriately. She will not cave to external pressure and leave her career, which she loves, in order to be a homemaker, but nor will she truly condemn any woman who wants to be a homemaker. Her frustration with, say, Margaret from next door is that she's a convenient representation of how much of society thinks that everyone in her position would want to take the homemaker route - or worse, doesn't even have wants and needs of her own and should therefore cater her life to her husband's.
Wen Qing definitely doesn't play that game.
How does this relate to her fashion, you may ask?
PANTS.
PANTS PANTS PANTS.
Listen to me - there are no skirts and pearls in this household. Wen Qing wears trousers. Suits. Jumpsuits. They're practical and comfortable, but most importantly they help her feel that she's rebelling in a way that is very easy to brush off as part of her profession rather than a small representation of a much much deeper discontent with heteronormative society, as a queer woman. She's very upfront about this - she will not, under any circumstances, wear a dress. Important social function at work? She will show up in well-tailored trousers and an understated blouse, no matter what the dresscode is said to be. She never wants to be mistaken for someone who can't or won't think and decide for herself - she wants to make sure that everyone knows she's Lan Wangji's equal. If he can be outdated and peerless in his 50's-esque suits, then she will be roaringly progressive in her suits, and they'll just have to be matching oddities in their community.
(Helen Hulick in 1938 who was jailed for wearing trousers when appearing in court - look her up, she's fantastic.)
I think she's not always so stern about it, but Wen Qing definitely Does Not Give A Shit about anyone's opinions on her clothing, and there would be many opinions about her as a professional woman in a male-dominated field. That being said, I also imagine her maybe outside of the university/professional setting in something much more obviously 1970's:
There was a lot of Good Shit happening in women's fashion in the 70's (following in the footsteps of the more progressive fads of the 1960's), and without Wen Qing being so deeply tied to old-fashioned ideals like Lan Wangji is, she sees nothing wrong with adapting with the times and looking damn good while doing it. As much as she isn't afraid to wear more masculine clothes in the workplace - something still pretty controversial by the early 70's - she also doesn't mind a more feminine look in her free time. But always pants. Always always always pants.
#the untamed fanfic#headcanon time#The Sculptor#Wei Wuxian#Lan Wangji#Wen Qing#You would think that between how long my fics usually are and how many extras I write#there wouldn't be much left over#but no. no y'all there's still So Much going on in my brain when I'm writing#Like every choice is so deliberate and I just have to sit and listen to my own#internal monologue about all of it all the time lol#here's just a small piece of it#I'll probably start doing more of these just to get them out of my head and onto the page#'these' being headcanon times not necessarily more posts about fashion
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Thinking magnus craft thoughts
Martin was beginning to sense a pattern when he woke up again, a feeling of dampness seeping through his clothes. It was a terrible pattern, and like the initial incident he opened his eyes to find moss. This stuff was much more his speed, however-- a vibrant green that pleasantly compressed underneath his hand when he sat up to see where the hell he was now.
It seemed to be a sort of natural cavern around a lightly glowing pool of water-- though the main source of light seemed to be eerie blue lanterns hanging overhead. The bed of moss was, again, damp but made up for it by smelling clean. Jon was, as last time, curled up a small span away, snoring gently.
Martin nearly had a heart attack when he realized the other man's eyes were closed for the first time in... honestly he didnt know. Even when he'd been-- even when the panopticon was crashing down around them his eyes had been open. It should be a good thing, seeing him safely asleep. Should.
He was half way through slowly reaching over to check Jon's breathing when Lag seemed to materialize from a tunnel he hadn't been able to make out in the flickering blue light. To his great credit, he neither squeaked or hurriedly backed away from her. He didn't even panic as it fully settled in that he was indeed looking at a beast person. She was lacking the armor from before, now simply in a set of black pants and, oddly, a white button down.
Once more, she slowly crouched down to be just over eye level and blinked slowly. Not knowing what else to do, he blinked back. This earned a nod and he wondered if he'd missed something.
"Feeling better?" Lags volume was much more audible this time, and far less terse. "You passed out half way here."
"I don't... know? Wh- where is here, if you dont mind?" He was ignoring the lion bit until he couldnt help it, by gods of the non eldritch variety. "Little damp, though. Could be worse."
"Could be." A tilt to her admittedly massive head and what he assumed was her attempt at a smile. "This is my cleaning room, at my mining base."
At his continued look of confusion, she pressed on:
"You two were covered in Skulk and this moss filters everything but clay. I dunked you two a few times and got you clean before it got inside." He had at least four questions about that, but resolved to be happy her methods were dipping them like biscuits in coffee. Far less anxiety to consider. She fidgeted and swiveled her ears a bit. "Its... not really on most maps, though, sorry. We're a good hour off of my cart system, but we can have you in a village in a few."
"Sorry, what?"
A flick of her tail.
"What, what? It's not like we can teleport."
Martin rubbed at his face and tried to figure out how to word this.
"Are we anywhere near London?"
The look on her face was either a no, or she'd decided to eat him. Nonplussed either way.
"Nearest village is Nexus."
"Perfect."
"Sarcasm doesnt help me help you." Another flick of her tail before she shook her head rather vigorously. "Let's start with something simple: what's your name?"
"Martin." At her nod, he added: "And that's Jon."
Another attempted smile.
"Lag." After he nodded, she continued. "So Martin, how the hell did you get so far underground?"
"No idea."
"What, so you forgot or--"
He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to find a way to say this that didnt sound totally insane.
"You, erm, you know how the world ended for a little bit there? Of course you don't, why wouldn't I sound mental right now--" he took a deep breath while she looked mildly bemused. "There was this tower, alright, and we destroyed it and honestly I thought we were dead? Or going to be, Jon definitely--"
At this point her head was tilted in such a way it made him deeply concerned that he'd grown a second head. Or at least that the very large beast person thought he was wildly insane. He might be at this point, at least a little. He pushed on for the sake of getting it out.
"All you need to know is that a lot of magic, or whatever, blew up around us and we thought it was over when it happened, but now we're here. Woke up where you found us."
"Okay."
She didnt look confused, but it was hard to tell. At most she sounded pensive. This felt like an under reaction.
"What do you mean, okay?"
A shrug.
"It means okay." She stood and stretched, tail smacking against her leg. "What?"
"That's it? No questions or, or--"
"About? The world isnt ending right now. You're alive, we're all in a cave, and I now know you'll probably need more rest before we head topside." A roll of her shoulder. "And once your friend is awake enough, we give him a healing potion and hope he can walk on his own."
A long beat of silence.
"A what."
Instead of answering, she huffed something that sounded like 'builders' and disappeared out of the room again.
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Testing Materials Week 2-3
vimeo
This is a compilation of tests I did on the multiplane.
At first I started with charcoal, then some string animation, and clay and oil. As well as a pyrography test on a slab of wood. I am writing to describe my thoughts and processes of each and to hopefully decide on one medium.
I first started with the pyrography tool which essentially was a soldering rod. It was great fun, very hot, and Smokey so I will definitely include a mask and a heatproof glove if I choose this going forward. Its burn effect is exactly what I'm looking for, so I am eager to make this work for me. I will however need to source my own wood potentially going out and finding it rather than ordering this. I did a quick test of drawing charcoal next to the pyro test to see how they look next to each other. I feel as though I could combine them together, possibly closer to the design stage/production.
On the multiplane I did three different charcoal tests, on different coloured paper. I had quickly drawn a rough plan for the first sapling animation. Since it was at the beginning of using the multiplane we had the lighting set up however the bulb went off one which is why it wasn't set so well. And wasn't until later this was replaced. I wasn't to worried about this since its only to see if I like the materials and If it's doable. We used dragon frame software to capture this, and made sure with a focus check it was picking up the details with the camera. Once this was sorted we added the keys for either two or single frame buttons. I was told that the lens would also have to be changed for the multiplane to a 50mm however I was just glad to even start. Once all setup and wires were in order My next issue was that I would have to animate upside down. I did this for the first two. As you can see they are off centre although I did try to mark out the corners this was still hard for me. Versus the last version which you can see I flipped this after in after effects. Certainly drawing the face is clearer, but it is to high up and not centred. I have to also be sure not to leave things on frame, I momentarily left a rubber on the first one within a shoot. Luckily I have managed to edit this out. I am really drawn to the express nature of charcoals in general and would hope to find a way I can Incorporate this.
When it comes to clay I did not have a lot to use. So I had to try to make the slab tile I rolled out thick enough for when I drew into this as you can see it wasn't to visible versus when I applied clay above. If I had ore clay I might have been able to do a larger slab and more able to do bigger, artwork for it's animations. At this time we managed to get a second light working so I had to rework the exposure and camera settings again. I think if I had spent a little more time working with this I might have got a better looking result. However, I personally got the feeling I would not be using clay since it did not give the same expressive freedom I had in charcoal. It was still a worthy try as I personally do love working in clay. It would just not meant to be.
When It comes to the oil which I barely touched and was only 0.5 of a second, it was an instant no. And I could not think of a way to get it to animate clearly. So what I did to save clean up was tape this clear film above the class. Now reflecting, since I used two planes instead of one the lower one was the back ground anyway. Instead of Making the top layer with too much white, I should have only done the black branch. My thinking was I need the white to add and take away. Upon this reflection I am learning from my mistakes and taking the time to reflect has certainly helped in this case.
Last but not least I just did some quick string-over-fabric animation. Initially, I was going to embryoid this. However, I could not see a way to do this unless I had something to stretch the fabric like a hoop or a frame I could secure and staple fabric to this. Unfortunately, I thought of this a little late as I do not have the funds for this. So instead I played with the string. and tried to see how much control I would have over this and how could I make it look like something. Well, I tried at first to see how tight I could hold the shape. Unfortunately, It could not do this very well. It could, however, look and move very fluidly like so the first one is meant to resemble water a bit, whereas the second one is meant to resemble a fish whose tail is reacting to the forces around this. Overall this is not bad and I may come back with a hoop or something to update and add later as a side project if I have time before Thursday so I can really get a feel.
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Full Name: Kiyoko Kaguya
Gender: Female
Age: (BREAKDOWN BREAKDOWN)
Kimimaro's Memories: 8?
Part I: 13 - 14
Shippuden & Wanderer: 16 - 18?
Post Shippuden: 18 - 27
Blank Period: 27
Boruto: 36
(She's 2 years younger than Kimimaro...)
Birthday: October 15
Height: 4'10" - 5'9" (175 CM)
Weight: 100 LB - 130 LB (59 KG)
Hair: White
Eyes: Green
Physical Description: She has bright green eyes, white hair, red markings on her face similar to her brother's. It was part of their clan. She wears loose fitting clothing but strays away from anything revealing. Though she has torn sleeves off of her clothes to use the bones in her arms for attacking. Eventually she has buttons added to the shoulders of her tops so she could just remove the sleeve, instead of ruining her clothes and needing them resewn.
Affiliation: Otogakure
Clan: Kaguya
Relatives: Mostly... dead. By blood? Kimimaro. She did consider the Sound Five her family
Favorites/Likes: Birds, clay birds, Taiyaki, Ikiyaki, Cakes, her family, Juugo, flowers, tea, fresh bread and the smell associated with it, udon, cuddling, winter, day dreaming, cloud watching, the stars, sleeping, hugs, hand holding, soft blankets, people who make her laugh.
Hated/Dislikes: Eating Clay Birds, Tayuya and Sakon's yelling, being told she's weak, being told to get out of the way, not allowed to defend herself, summer, drama, being alone.
Personality/Attitude (Breakdown | Breakdown):
(Since it seems like it depends on verse/her age. Figured I'd just... write it all down)
Kimimaro's Memories: Naïve as all hell. Despite the situation she and her brother are in, she tries to find the good.
Part I: Still Naïve, seems to think the sound four is found family. A little bit on the trusting side toward them. Suspicious of others but still... naive. A curious one, always wanting to be helpful. Definitely kind and caring toward her brother.
Toward the Sound Five: She is a little sister. Sometimes she'd be a little shit toward Tayuya and Sakon. Though they're the ones who egg it on.
Part I Post Sound Five Death: now this is a story all about how my life got flip turned upside down. Her happy life turned instantly into a painful one. The emotional pain was hard to fight through and it continues to Shippuden.
Shippuden: She's lost, in pain emotionally. She keeps going on despite all of this. She's easily triggered by any words against her own brother.
Shippuden Wanderer (Without Purpose): For the most part, she's cold and bitter, trying to hide the emotional pain. Crack that and she'll spill her guts. She really needs a vent. Though she seems kind and caring when helping someone. She's looking for herself. She's easily triggered by any words against her own brother.
Post Shippuden (Post Closure): After having talked to her brother, she changed her resolve to help others. (Without purpose is pretty close) Still hiding emotional pain behind a partially fake smile. There's happiness in there.
Blank Period & Boruto: She's found her purpose again. There's a bit of happiness in her. She's kind and caring toward others. Though she still takes things seriously.
Part I Bio as close to canon as she gets:
Main: They were in the same cage together for years. So goes her 'alone together' way of thinking.
AU: They weren't in the same cage and only just met at the pond.
AU 2: They aren't siblings but share the same kekkei. They just consider each other 'siblings' at the end of the day.
The younger of the two would be holding the hand of the older... They stood together at the pond... They were alone after that bloody day that left their entire clan dead. They moved forward from this incident, her brother following Orochimaru after being so favored.
She tagged along. He had his purpose and she still lacked one but stuck with her brother while he tried to fulfill his. Still a capable fighter, despite being soft spoken. She needed a bit of practice when it came to fighting but she caught on quickly.
The young one was absolutely devastated at the news about her brother and the others. There's no way she was the last one alive, this left HER the one alone. They were alone together... now it was just her and she could NOT hold a candle to her brother's power.
(This is the one I wanna expand on more. Because I don't know how she'd even go on from this. There's some ideas below.)
Some Ideas to expand upon Part I into Shippuden
She probably tries to get along with Sasuke and tries to rebuild the family she lost. (Likely finds Hebi/Taka to be a new family.)
Though it’s more likely she shared a bond with Juugo before her brother’s passing and Sasuke’s arrival.
Kimimaro only spoke that he was going on the mission but never told her where he was going or who he was helping. He intended to return. Didn’t stop her from worrying about him. Finding out about his death left her heart broken. She thinks he died in combat, not due to his illness. Despite him being sick, she thought he was coming right back. So this could leave her to be manipulated easily.
So, she wouldn’t hate Sasuke, but it would take Juugo to tell her what really happened since she wasn’t privy to that information. That and she wouldn’t take Sasuke’s word at face value, she’d trust Juugo more.
She is absolutely furious when Kabuto uses the Sound Five for reanimation, actually voicing her anger toward it. Mainly that he’s desecrating her family by doing this. However, a good thing came out of it, she got to find out from Kimimaro what had happened to him. Finding out he didn’t die during a fight but his illness had taken him too soon. It was closure, painful, but closure.
Kiyoko used to like hanging around with Kabuto while he helped Kimimaro when she was younger. She’d do her best to help around the lab so he could focus on helping him. All of this would be broken once he used the Sound Five for reanimation AND for making them part of his body using his naval-snake.
Post War - Blank Period and New Era
She’s lost her family. She’s trying to rebuild AGAIN, but she stays and tries to help Orochimaru build Otogakure into a real village. She’s fighting on for the family she has lost and for those that can be yet saved.
Kiyoko is a bit of a big sister to Mitsuki.
She'd go on to be a medical nin and specialize in rare diseases too... hmm. Kiyo didn’t want to see anyone suffer again, like her brother did. That left a scar in her memory that she’ll never forget.
Abilities:
Shikotsumyaku- The ability to manipulate her bones down to the density.
She sticks more to using her bones for swords or knives.
Finger Bone Kunai - Using all of the bones in her non-dominant hand she would make modified throwing knives. Uses metacarpals and phalanges to make it long enough to throw.
Bone Finger Tips - These are used similarly to claws. Distal bones elongate and sharpen sticking out of the flesh of the finger tips.
Mystical Palm Technique - She learned this from Kabuto to help her brother if he needed it.
She has her own dances:
Dance of the Ginkgo: Using the metacarpals in her fist, they elongate and sharpen into blades. However their shape is that of a war fan.
Dance of the Senna or Sickle Pod: A mid-ranged scythe. It's similar to Stem and Thorn where it has to use her leg bones but it also includes the 'blade' being the fibula.
Dance of the Stem and Thorn - It’s a bone spear with ‘thorn’ like blades on the pole. The blade at the tip is as sharp as the thorns on the sides. It’s dangerous when both stabbing and slicing. Requires using bones out of her leg to make it.
Dance of the Spider Lily - Bracken Dance wasn’t for her, she made her own large scale ability. The bones that rise from the ground are brittle but are sharp as shattered glass, sticking into the enemy doing damage as they move around.
And learned a few from her brother:
Dance of the Willow - She includes her finger bones.
Dance of the Camellia - Her movements are slower due to the lack of experience and endurance.
AUs and Verses
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the medic (keith x reader)
17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.
“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.
After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.
“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”
You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.
Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.
The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.
Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.
Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”
You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…
“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”
“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”
“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.
“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”
“Languages are hard.”
“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”
“Hunk-”
“Yeah.”
“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.
“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.
—————
Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”
“Don’t even think about it!”
“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.
“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”
“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”
“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.
“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.
Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”
You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”
The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”
You laugh, “of course you are.”
“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.
You roll your eyes.
Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”
“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”
“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.
“And Atticus from Cantonese.”
“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.
“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”
“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.
“Eh-” Lance shrugs.
“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.
“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.
“Hey!”
“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.
“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”
“English.”
“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.
“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”
“Ah.”
“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.
“It timed out.”
“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”
“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.
Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”
Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.
“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.
“Only because you cheat!”
“It’s not cheating!”
“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.
Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.
Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.
“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.
“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.
“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.
You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.
“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.
“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”
“I don’t have adult acne!”
They’d fought over more meaningless things before.
If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?
Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”
For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”
You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.
Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”
“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”
“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”
“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.
“It’s clay!”
“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”
“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.
Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”
Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”
You shrug. “No clue.”
Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.
“So face masks?”
You nod, “want to try it Allura?”
“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.
——————
Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.
While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.
You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.
“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.
Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.
He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.
“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.
Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.
You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.
It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.
“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.
“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”
“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”
“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.
You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”
“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.
“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”
He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”
“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.
“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.
Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.
“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.
“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.
“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”
He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”
“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”
“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”
That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.
“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”
He nods, accepting your diagnosis.
“Let me get the medicine.”
“Mhm.”
You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”
Keith pops one in immediately.
“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.
“Worried?”
“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.
Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”
“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”
He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”
“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”
“Need help?”
“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.
“I could-”
“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”
Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.
“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”
Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”
You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”
Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”
“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.
“What?”
“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.
“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.
“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.
“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.
The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.
Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.
You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”
“Hm?”
Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.
“Keith,” you utter, worried.
“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.
Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.
“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.
Keith leans into your touch, “no.”
“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.
You were going to have to corner Coran about it.
Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.
Add cornering Lotor to your list.
You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.
You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”
“Mm.”
He was completely out of it.
His breath tickles your cheek.
“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.
“Oh.”
You look behind you.
Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”
Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.
You frown, still processing.
“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.
You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”
“If you’re sure?”
Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”
———————
“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”
Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”
“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”
The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”
“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”
Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.
His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.
You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.
Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.
She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’
“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.
“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.
“Matt!”
“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”
“No!”
Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.
What had brought this on?
Shiro clears his throat.
Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.
“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”
“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.
The green paladin was right.
Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.
“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…
The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.
Pidge taps her foot on the floor.
“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”
“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”
“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.
You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.
“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.
You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”
“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.
You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.
Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.
It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.
“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.
Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.
“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.
“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.
You laugh.
“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”
“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!
Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.
Shiro gives the signal.
You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.
Matt and you get to work.
“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.
Stupid damn biolocks.
“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.
“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.
You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.
Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.
“You in,” you ask him.
“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”
The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.
The sulfuric fog coats everything.
You taste rotten eggs on your breath.
Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.
“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”
The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”
“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”
Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.
“Pidge,” Keith yells out.
“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”
Nothing.
Matt’s face goes ghostly white.
“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”
“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”
“On it.”
“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”
“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”
“Fine.”
You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.
He steals himself. “Right.”
The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.
You and Matt go out to meet them.
“I could get used to this,” Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex. Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.
Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.
Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”
She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”
There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.
Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”
The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.
Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”
“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.
“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”
“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.
“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.
“Lucky you,” you grin.
Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”
The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”
“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”
A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”
Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”
“Very good.”
“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”
“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”
“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.
“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.
Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.
You grab her.
Her face goes crimson from the pain.
The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.
Keith picks her up.
It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.
“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.
Keith shakes his hair out.
You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”
“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.
“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.
“Oh. Yeah. They did.”
You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.
A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.
“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”
“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.
Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.
“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.
Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.
You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.
“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”
“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”
“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.
You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.
He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.
Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.
You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.
His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”
“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.
Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.
The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.
“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-
“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.
“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.
Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.
—————
“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”
You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”
“Starlight.”
“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.
“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”
You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.
Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”
You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”
“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”
“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.
“Like for real!”
“Yeah.”
“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”
You finally hit the motherlode.
Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.
She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.
Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.
“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”
Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”
Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”
Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”
“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”
“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.
Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.
Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”
Shiro nods.
They shake hands.
You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.
“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”
“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.
Your eye twitches.
That snake!
Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”
Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.
“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.
Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”
“What?”
“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”
“Wait-”
But she scurries off.
“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.
Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.
“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”
“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”
“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.
“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.
“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.
——————
You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.
Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.
Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.
The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.
A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.
Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.
You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.
It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.
You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.
He whimpers, curling up further.
“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”
He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”
“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”
Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”
You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.
“Coran already gave me a dose.”
“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.
You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.
You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.
Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.
You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.
There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.
“Do you think Allura minds?”
“Mind what,” you ask.
Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”
Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.
You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”
“Bullshit.”
“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.
“What if I looked even more Galra?”
“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.
He was also half human.
You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.
“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”
“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”
Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.
You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.
You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.
“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.
Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”
Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.
“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”
“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.
You giggle, “you’re doing it.”
Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.
You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”
“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”
“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”
“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.
“That’s what the mats were for.”
“Still!”
Keith laughs at your expense.
You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.
Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
He doesn’t answer you right away.
“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”
He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”
“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.
You trusted Keith.
He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.
“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.
“Duh.”
“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.
“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”
“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.
You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.
You liked him.
The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.
But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.
Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?
Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.
You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.
His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.
So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.
He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.
You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.
Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.
“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.
Sweat beads on his brow.
Whines escape his throat.
“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.
He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.
Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.
You’re helpless.
After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.
“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.
You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.
His hair is damp near his ears.
“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”
He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.
You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.
You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-
Oh god.
“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”
You don’t get any sleep that night.
——————
You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.
It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.
Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.
“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”
Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”
“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”
“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.
Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”
“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”
“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.
As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.
You glance over at the red paladin.
His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.
“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”
“Hm?”
“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”
Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”
You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”
He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”
You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.
“It takes some getting used to.”
“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.
Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.
“Stuff.”
You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”
“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.
“Sorry.”
“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.
“You’re hurt.”
“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.
“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.
“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”
“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.
The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.
“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.
Bad timing.
“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”
“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”
“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.
You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.
“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”
You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.
“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.
“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”
“Varga,” Keith supplies.
“Yeah, that.”
Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”
“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.
“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.
“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”
“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.
“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.
Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.
You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).
You nab a table outside the stand.
Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.
Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.
You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.
Keith raises a brow.
“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.
“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.
“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.
“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.
You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.
“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.
“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”
“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.
“What,” you ask, looking over at him.
Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”
“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”
“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.
He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”
Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.
“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.
You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.
He looks at you with a knowing smile.
Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.
There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.
They were all so nosy.
Oh fuck.
——————
“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.
You roll your eyes.
Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.
Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.
Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.
You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”
“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.
“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”
Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.
Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”
“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.
The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”
You jab your elbow into his side.
“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”
“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”
“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.
“Thank you Pidge.”
She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”
He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.
You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”
Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”
You throw him a dirty look.
“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.
“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.
“No.”
“Oh.”
Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.
Oh.
Your eyes widen.
OH.
His ears had changed.
They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…
Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”
Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.
No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.
Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.
“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”
“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”
“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”
Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.
But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.
Keith growls lowly.
Lance sniggers.
Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.
Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.
You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.
Keith squeezes your hand back.
Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”
“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”
“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.
“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”
“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”
“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.
Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.
You all look over at him.
“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.
Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.
“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.
“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”
“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.
Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.
You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.
“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”
Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”
His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”
Shiro covers his face with a hand.
Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”
“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.
“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.
You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.
“Wait-” Keith follows you.
You ignore him.
“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.
“Listen-,” he whines.
“I didn’t mean-”
“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.
Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.
“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”
“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.
“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.
You bite your lip.
Don’t cry, you think to yourself.
You were being dumb.
He was just being plain stupid.
“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”
“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.
“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”
“Because I can’t fight?”
“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”
You swallow.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”
Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”
“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.
What the heck.
You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.
You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.
The images would never leave you as long as you lived.
“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.
You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.
Most people smelled like nothing at all.
He stiffens.
“But it’s nice to hear again.”
Keith smothers a laugh.
You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.
He purrs.
You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?
At some point?
Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.
Fuck.
You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.
——————
Bombs still pelt the surface.
Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.
Allura was last, tailing the group.
You reach the bunker.
The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.
The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.
The bunker seals and you get to work.
Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.
The fight continued on the surface.
The paladins had to form Voltron.
You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.
Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.
Your hands stain blue from the blood.
Allura works alongside you.
You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.
“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.
You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.
“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.
It irked you.
“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”
“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.
“Is that what you call it?”
“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.
You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.
“Another then?”
You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.
“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.
Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.
You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.
——————
“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.
“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”
You snort.
“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”
“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”
“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”
“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.
“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.
“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”
“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.
“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”
“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”
You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”
The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.
Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.
Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.
You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.
You know better than to take it personally.
It was Keith.
Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.
You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.
“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.
You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.
“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.
“All the same,” the older man smiles.
“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.
You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.
“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.
“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.
The whole room turns to look at Shiro.
He had called the meeting.
Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.
Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.
Hm.
You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.
Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”
The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.
The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.
His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.
His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”
You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.
“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.
Hunk elbows him in the side.
“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.
“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”
“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.
“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”
He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”
Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.
Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.
“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.
He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.
Your mouth quirks up into a smile.
You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.
An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.
“Shiro,” Keith asks.
Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”
Huh.
That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.
You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?
“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.
At least Keith wasn’t dying.
Thank god.
Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.
“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”
In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.
“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”
Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.
“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”
Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.
Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”
“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.
“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”
“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”
“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.
“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”
“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.
“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”
“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”
“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”
“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.
“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.
“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”
You snort, and join the group hug.
Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.
“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.
Keith groans.
“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.
You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”
Lance laughs.
Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.
“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.
“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”
Keith lunges for Lance.
Someone topples over.
Everyone falls.
You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.
From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.
No one makes fun of him for it.
——————
“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.
Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.
You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.
You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)
He’s reading the screen with you.
“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.
“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”
“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.
“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”
“I like the desert.”
“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.
“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”
“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.
“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.
You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.
“It’s really not. You just have to look.”
“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”
“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”
“But you do, know it I mean?”
“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.
You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”
“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.
“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”
“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.
Even Lance zonked out after these things.
“Knock on wood,” you laugh.
_____________
Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.
One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.
You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.
“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.
You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.
You couldn’t even see their eyes.
“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.
Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…
They nod, and walk off without explanation.
You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.
It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.
First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.
You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.
You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…
You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.
Someone would find you.
You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.
They wanted Voltron, but you would do.
“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.
“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.
“Of course. You look dead.”
“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”
“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”
You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”
She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”
“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.
She nods.
You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.
Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”
“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”
She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.
“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.
Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”
“Oh.”
You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-
“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.
But you’re one step behind her.
Did Keith like you?
You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…
“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.
“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.
You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.
“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?
Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.
You look around.
No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.
“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”
You wait, wondering if there was more.
It was a lot of changes.
You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.
“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”
“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.
“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”
Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.
“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything
s…it’s been a lot.”
“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.
But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.
“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.
“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”
“Scenting me?”
He nods.
You take a step towards him.
“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.
Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”
“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.
He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”
“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”
Keith nods.
“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.
Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”
“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.
He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.
“You don’t-”
You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.
This was a small ask.
Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.
You had washed his blood off your hands.
“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”
Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.
You laugh, “come here.”
It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.
Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.
Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”
“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.
You laugh.
——————
“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”
The planet was a farming camp.
The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.
“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”
A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
You don’t want to go down there either.
This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.
“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”
“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.
“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.
The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.
The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.
You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.
He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”
You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.
“I’m fine.”
He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.
“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.
Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.
“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.
He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”
“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.
Pidge’s work.
“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”
Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”
“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”
“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.
“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”
“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.
There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.
“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”
He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”
“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”
“They stare.”
“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”
Keith sighs.
The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.
You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”
Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.
In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.
Why did you do that!
God, you were so dumb-
He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.
Oh! Oh.
“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.
You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.
#keith kogane#vld keith#keith x reader#voltron#mine#trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags#as usual: is this any good?#was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff
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Dad?~DreamWasTaken
DreamWasTaken x Fem!reader
(Clay's last name is Fisher)
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"I am here, I won't leave."
"Really?"
"Never again."
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
part one - part two - part three - part four
【!TW! swearing, mention of abuse, asshole boyfriends, teen pregnancy】
Clay and Y/n had been friends, best friends, since kindergarten. They were super close, having sleep overs every week at least once. When they grew older their bond had only increased, causing them both to get looks from people. Everybody in school thought they were together, some teachers even had bets on them.
But that all came crashing down in college. Y/n got a boyfriend. Clay didn't like him. Clay left because it hurt him to much seeing her with someone else, Y/n was alone with Jake.
Clay had blocked all things were she could contact him on. So when it turned out Jake was an asshole and Y/n needed her best friend she couldn't find him. He was gone. And she needed him.
Clay or now known as Dream, was famous to say the least. He was successful in his streaming and YouTube career.
Y/n worked long hours, she now had a daughter of three years. Jake had gotten her pregnant at the age of 19. It was hard, the pregnancy not really, but Jake was an abusive asshole. He always hung out with his friends, made Y/n cook and clean, because that's what a good wife should do, he even slapped her sometimes. But the worst.
He brought girls home, in her house, in her bed, when she was still lying in it.
Jake didn't get a job, so he moved in with her in Y/n's house, and claimed it as his.
When she finally got him out of her house, it was too late, she was pregnant alone, and he left not only because she made him, he got another woman pregnant, but he wasn't ready to be a father he had told her.
Still he stayed with the other girl.
Life was hard, it had it's ups and downs, she didn't remember most of the ups except one: Clay Fisher.
But he wasn't there anymore.
She was alone.
"Layla!" Y/n screamed from above the stairs, "Ready to go to grandma?"
"Yess!" screamed the three year-old.
It pained her a bit as she was a lot like her father, but Y/n's characteristics came in a lot too. They had the same eyes and hair, but the freckles from her father were visible on her cheeks. Her button nose was from him, her attitude was from her though.
But Layla was sweet and helpful too, just had some anger issues you could say, that did come from Jake.
"I'll drop you off alright? I have a late shift in the store and then I'll pick you up in the morning? Or do you want to come home?"
"Sleep-over!"
Y/n smiled looking at her daughter. Her father was maybe an asshole, she was an angel.
Her parents were very supportive, they had seen him being abusive and helped her get out of there. When they heard he got her pregnant. When she hadn't given him consent, they were furious. Her father had eventually thrown him out of her house.
When Y/n decided to keep her baby, her mother helped her with everything and her father helped with the making of the baby room in her new home.
The only thing missing was her best friend; Clay.
"That'll be 12.5$ please," Y/n was working two jobs. One in the evening at the super market and her dream job as a real clothing designer, (her dream job).
"Keep the change, mamas," the boy handed her a 20$ bill. She looked up and gave him a forced, sarcastic smile.
"Thank you, but you can go back to your 'mamas' so she can teach you some manners."
The boy looked stunned and a man behind him was wheezing from laughter. He had dirty blond hair that was almost hanging in his eyes, and when he was done with laughing she could see his bright green eyes. Clay. No doubt was that Clay.
"I am sorry," the unkown man said, "It was a dare, I do h-have manners. I am Nick."
"It's alright Nick, but can you move along I have other people to tend to."
"Yeah, sorry."
She smiled, still a bit forced, but turned to the next costumer. She scanned all the items again, her evening went on like this, scanning, asking the money, smiling, prodding off creepy people, and all over again.
When her shift finally ended she walked up to her car when she noticed a man leaning against it. Her keys found it's way between her fingers while she made a fist of them, her keys sticking out of it.
But when she stood in front of the man she noticed it was Clay.
"What do you want?"
"Hi, Y/n."
"Hello? What do you need?"
Clay looked hurt, which was partly acceptable. Yes she wasn't the most lovely to him, but he was way worse.
"I-I, just wanted to ask how you were?"
"You could've done that a long time ago."
"I know," he said his face showed he was sorry but she didn't want to be fooled again, "and I don't really have an excuse to say why I haven't. But I was busy, and I- I am asking you now?"
"When? You want to know how I was when you left? How I was when you blocked me? When I was getting abused? When I gave birth?"
Clay's eyes had widened, "Y-you gave birth? A-and he abused y-you?"
"Yes."
"I am so, so, sorry."
"I don't need your pitty, Fisher. If you would've let me reach out, or reached out yourself i would've accepted that. A simple sorry and an explanation, it would've been enough. But now, now you don't get to turn up out of the blue and just take your pick of the litter."
"Than what do I need to do?"
"I don't know! Write me a poem, sing me song for all I care. Just be there! But you don't get to do that for me again! I don't need it anymore, be there for your friends when they need it, Fisher. When I needed you, you weren't there, you can't just drop me when it gets too hard for you-"
"It was hard for me! I was struggling too! I had to go through that alone too! You also weren't there!-"
"Whom's fault is that? Mine?"
Clay had went silent he knew she was right as always. He had ignored every chance of contact and she had indeed tried, it was his own fault.
"Get away from my car."
"Y/n-"
"Get away from my car."
So he did. Not before slipping his number in her car when she opened the door. Nick had walked up to him again. The younger man had been waiting at their car but waned to know what took so long.
"Dude, what did you do?"
"Nothing let's just go home."
*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*
Y/n wasn't getting a specific green-eyed blonde out of her head. She knew she had been harsh on him, but he knew it was what he deserved. Walking up to her parents' home she wasn't really paying attention. She hadn't from yesterday night, she was too busy, with nothing.
"Hey, mom. I'm here to pick Layla up."
Her mother wore the same smile she loved growing up with, the h/c-headed girl would always lie in bed hoping she would find a love like her parents' and she would dream about her father walking her down the aisle. Her mother shedding a tear when her father did. And a very handsome gentleman waiting at the altar to take her hand in marriage.
But that all had been shattered. Now, her biggest dream was: giving Layla the same motherly smile.
But she knew it didn't always work out like you plan. But hope could get you far. For sure in your imagination.
Layla had walked down stairs jumping in her mother's arms: "Mommy! I made pillow castle, I was princess!" she smiled proudly at Y/n, "and gran told stories about you!"
"Oh? did she now?"
"Yup, I know your secrets," she whispered.
The elder girl looked up to her own mom and gave her a playful glare. "What secrets?" she whispered back to the little girl in her arms.
"About a boy~"
"Who?"
"Cl- I don't remember," she said looking a bit upset.
"It's no problem Layla, his name is Clay. He was my best friend, like Josh from kindergarten is yours."
When her little girl heard her mother say the name her smile widened, "I like Josh, he's sweet."
Y/n laughed and could really see her younger self in her little girl, how she would come home talking about him and how an amazing friend he was. Now she hadn't uttered a word about him since college.
"Alright, say good-bye to grandma, we'll visit soon again."
"Bye bye granny!"
"See you soon darling," the adoring eyes of Y/n's mother were shining with adoration for the little girl. Even though Y/n already knew her parents supported her in every way, even when choosing to keep the baby, she was always overcome by love when she could see this moments.
"Can I explain why I told her?" the elder's voice asked.
"It isn't a problem ma," Y/n said honestly, of course it was a bit hard talking about him again which she would probably needs to do now, but she couldn't blame her parents for it.
"She found a photo of you two."
Her head shot up at the mention of a photo, "What photo?" she asked hesitantly.
"Prom night."
A smile graced both their faces, it was her favourite memory of Clay. Him in his suit and her dressed in, what she would describe as a princess gown, and Clay agreed to the statement.
That was maybe her best memory also, them dancing and goofing around, getting a slightly 'tipsy' Clay in the car and letting him crash at her place so his mother wouldn't be that mad. It was amazing and she missed it, she missed him.
*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*
Y/n was in the store with Layla. She hadn't noticed last night that they had practically no food in the house. So here they were goofing around while deciding what to eat.
"So what do you want to eat?"
"I don't know mommy, you decide."
Y/n always smiled when her daughter said stuff like this. It made her see herself, and it made it all worth it.
But the smile was wiped off her face when she heard two voices she recognized from last night, or from way back.
"Sapnap!" the first man said, "c'mon I don't want to be here all day."
"C'mon dream, don't be so sour 'cause your pretty friend turned you down."
They thought she was pretty?
At first the plan was to walk off and avoid them, but now she was debating if listening in was maybe a funner idea. She looked down at her daughter, to find out she was already wandering around in the cookie aisle.
So she stayed put.
"Nick, stop being a prat." 'Dream' spoke again.
"What did you do man? She looked really mad from where I was standing. You must've done something wrong, like terribly wrong. Also you were trying to hide your tears, I know you man, that woman must've meant something to you."
He was almost crying?
"No need to rub it in," Clay said. "She was my best friend."
"Was or is?"
"I wish she still was, I was stupid. She got a boyfriend I didn't like him, so my dumbass blocked her on everything so she couldn't contact me again. I had even told my family to not tell her where I moved to," he took in a deep breath almost at the same time as Y/n, "Apparently she asked them if I was okay and stuff even after I did that."
his friend was silent for a moment, and Y/n took that as the perfect timing to look at them both for a good moment too.
She recognized Nick, he was the family friend Clay used to talk about. He had grown up, she noted.
Clay, he just looked even better than before, which she was certainly surprised about.
"Y/n?" Nick said, his mouth agape and eyes wide open, "She's the Y/n?! Like the girl you would come rant about, like how pretty she was and how smart, how you wished she would never go away? Until You stopped talking about her and got mad every time I brought her up?"
"yeah."
"Man what the fuck?! You were so in love with her!"
"Hey man," Clay said a little louder, "I know okay? But could you not scream it for the whole world?"
He was in love with me?
"you were in love with me?"
Clay stiffend and didn't move a muscle, while Nick was a bit embarrassed and obviously trying to hold in his laugh. The dirty blond turned around to be met with her eyes, instead of them holding fire, she looked surprised and held a last bit of hope.
"Uh," he didn't know what to do now, the secret was out now.
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you just tell me? instead off throwing it away?"
"i was scared and stupid," he said with a soft chuckle, he was so mad at his stupid teenage self.
"Mom?"
Both the men's head turned to the little voice of Layla, Y/n first cursed herself for temporarily forgetting the chance that she could come in the conversation.
"yes, darling?"
Clay was sad, he had missed the opportunity of seeing his best friend become a mom, making his best friend a mom...
But he loved that he could see this interaction, she was really just as amazing as a mother as he thought. He was just sad that it wasn't with him, that she had to have done it alone.
"Is that daddy?" the little girl whispered. Both the adults eyes widened, while Nick was snickering and looking at some sort of bread.
"Uhm, no. Layla, this is Clay, a friend. Clay this is Layla, my daughter."
#dsmp#dreamwastaken#sapnap#x reader#part one#baby#teen pregnancy#best friends#reunited#beautiful#daughter#dwt#dream#dream team#dream x reader#fem!reader#female reader#mom reader
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reminiscing (fans 2)
dreamwastaken x streamer!reader
genre: angst
pronouns: they / them
word count: 2.1k
warning(s): failed relationship, cursing
fans (part 1)
synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.
go live. *click*
you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down.
“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.
“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”
you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.
“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up.
“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!”
so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.
you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”
later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.
“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”
“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”
“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.
“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.
“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.
“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.
after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that.
“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long.
it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.
“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”
“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”
“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”
end stream. *click*
a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again.
for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together.
but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?
the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.
—————
taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath
#dream#dreamwastaken#dream x reader#dream x streamer!reader#dream imagine#dreamwastaken imagine#dream angst#dreamwastaken angst#mcyt#mcyt x reader#mcyt x streamer!reader#mcyt imagine#mcyt angst#dream smp#dream smp x reader#dream smp x streamer!reader#dream smp imagine#dream smp angst#reminiscing dreamwastaken#fans dreamwastaken
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Men in Black au! with Dream, George, Sapnap, Karl, Quackity, c!Technoblade, and Wilbur
Notes: this is for 900 clebration:)) THIS IS SO LONG DKSHS. also i wrote this cause i watched men in black:international the other day
Genre: fluff, romantic, they/them
Warnings: mentions of guns, bombs
Dream
when you first started working with him, he was very friendly and would teach you anything you needed to know
like where the guns are, etc
but from time to time he would be unintentionally flirty
or just make flirtatious comments (sometimes intentional)
"you look good in a suit y/n😌"
"i always wear a suit but thank you"
everytime you hugged or shaked hands after a succesful mission, his touch would always linger
like he would hug you for much longer than anticipated
it would make you flustered but you just brushed it off
soon dream made flirty comments all the time
like all the time
you both layed down on the ground and took deep breaths, that alien was terrifying. "you know, you looked good whole fighting that thing earlier."
"what?"
"nothing."
this kept on going until you (sorta) catched on to what he was doing
"clay, do you like me?" you said out of the blue. "what? no- our relationship is strictly professional and platonic."
yeah you didn't believe him
and he didn't himself
but then again, he said it himself,
he doesn't like you, right?
okay maybe a little bit
he finally confessed when he thought it the was the end for both of you
the alien threw you against the wall, roaring loudly. it ringed through your ears, causing you to yelp. the alien grabbes clay with its other hand and raised him above its mouth.
"y/n since this is the end," clay yelled, "i want you to know that i like you! a lot!"
you looked at him shocked, you opened your mouth to say something but the creature's scream of pain cut you off. your other colleagues had come to save the both of you.
you both watched as they brought the alien back to where it came from.
"so, you like me?"
"uh, yeah. i really, really do."
"good, cause i feel the same." you smile and kiss clay's cheek.
George
he would act very prim and proper
and he'd want you to act the same
he would do little things like fixing your tie, fixing your hair, etc
but on missions he would be very rowdy and make bad decisions from time to time but still calm
"y/n, let's drink with them!"
"but what if the-"
"i heard a yes, let's go."
but then the bad guys showed up
"i told you they'd come!" you said with a slightly panicky voice.
"don't worry, the alien is safe and we just need to get out of here. let me think of a plan."
and boom with george's calmness and smartness you survived😎
but you both got a warning cause you drank on the job-
anyways,
he started acting strange after a few months of working with you
for example, everytime you passed him a weapon his hand would rouch yours
and he would just blush and continue what he was doing
you wouldn't really notice tho since he was subtle with it
george finally confessed after a mission
"get yourselves cleaned up at the headquarters."
"yes ma'am." you both said synchronously. once you were both back at the headquarters, george tapped your shoulder. "uh- so i really like you, can we go on a date?"
you just looked at him, not saying a word. george started to feel more nervous, thinking he did something wrong. "it's fine if you don't want to, i understa-"
"no no no no george, i wanna go on a date with you." george just smiles and grabs your hand, caressing it.
Sapnap
as soon as you became partners, you both got really close a your personalities just matched
anyways, every mission crazy and very chaotic
sapnap cracks jokes all the time
"oh my god, is this alien pussy??"
"sapnap... I THINK SO!!"
its so fun working with him
at the start of your relationship, he made flirty comments here and there
but the longer you both knew eachother, he made flirty comments all the time, like dream
"sooooooo has anyone told you how hot you were earlier?"
"i mean- no? we literally almost got eaten alive"
"well since no one's said it, you looked pretty hot earlier"
for some reason he likes saying those comments everytime your both about to die
or when the situation is just bad
"hey you look pretty attractive right now..."
"SAPNAP SHUT UP AND GIVE ME THE GUN, WE'RE GONNA DIE??!??!?!"
"WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS NOW SAPNAP"
but when he confessed it was during a normal time
you were both talking about a mission you had to do in a few days
and sapnap just blurted it out
"okay so we have to be in paris next week. i think we should ask-"
"i like you y/n. a lot, with my whole heart" you smiled, "i like you too." sapnap smiled and and leaned in, "can i kiss you?" you just nod and bring him closer to your chest.
Karl
people called you and karl childish and immature during work
but in reality he just made lots of jokes and you both laughed easily💀💀
missions with karl are very fun
fun but at the same time serious
like he thinks very quickly
so if your ever in danger, karl will be there to help
but after you both make jokes directed at each other
"you were the one that dropped the bomb"
"you would've died if i didn't save you🙄"
but its all light hearted and you care for each other
anyways he started to act more serious and calm around you
sometimes nervous
like after every mission you hug
and everytime you both do it you could just feel karl's heart beating so fast
"karl are you alright? you're heart is beating really fast"
"oh uh- yeah. just shocked from the mission and all"
he would also ask you if you're hurt/okay way more
"oh god y/n, are you alright?"
"yeah it's just a scratch"
"okay, if you're hurt just tell me"
he confessed while you were both undercover during a mission
you both sat in the cafe, eyeing the alien that disguised itself as a human. "psst, y/n."
"what is it?" you say, not taking your eyes off the creature. "i like you." karl says quietly. as if he was a kid whispering a secret. for the first time, you take your eyes off the alien.
you look at him, mouth agape. you smirk and chuckle, "so do i." karl smiles and starts giggling, you reciprocate this. "now let's go back to- WAIT WHERE ARE THEY?"
Quackity
chaotic but at the same time quiet duo
during missions its crazy and some times gets out of hand
but at the headquarters/office, you're both very proper and organized
its just so that you both get assigned into more missions together tbh KSHSJ
missions with him is just
*chefs kiss*
one time you were both fighting the alien and somehow he convinced them for a break?????
"HEY WAIT WAIT. i have to piss, let's take a break"
alien: "piss? break?"
"i have to pee."
and the alien just agreed!?!??????!?!
SO YOU JUST STOOD THERE, WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK
AND THE ALIEN JUST SAT ON THE GROUND
fortunately, he came back quickly
"okay, i'm back, let's do this😎"
in the end you both won
cause he's alex quackity, what do you expect?
soon he started to act very nervous at random occasions
like you were both just talking about a recent mission you both just done
and you complimented him on defeating the alien
"that was so cool alex!!"
and he just stands there like 🧍♂️ "thank you y/n"
HE'S JUST SO FLUSTERED KSJSK
and it's not like your first time complimenting him
he just started acting like this out of nowhere
he confessed while you were doing a mission
you were in the passenger's seat, holding onto dear life. "alex, slow down!" he just glances at you in disbelief. "slow down? we're gonna die if i do slow down!"
after a few turns, you reached a long road with a fiver at the end. alex looked aroud to find another road for you to go on to avoid drowning. unfortunately, there was none.
the buttons that cotrolled the car currently weren't working. so you kept on pushing them. "y/n, before we die, i wanna say something!"
"we're not gonna di- oh nevermind, what is it?" you yelled. "i like you!"
all you could do was to push the buttons more aggresively, hoping to get out alive. to your surprise, the car started to float of the ground.
once you had both reached the sky, you both started clapping and cheering. "lets go!"
"we did it y/n holy shit"
"so... you like me?"
"what? no, i didn't say that. what do you me-"
"its fine alex. i like you too"
Technoblade
he would be quiet and professional
also a little intimidating
like on your first mission he did almost all the work
and in a way you were kinda his assistant
at first you thought this was how missions worked
1 leader and 1 follower/assistant
but then you talked to your colleagues about your missions with him and they told you it was meant to be 2 partners, not leader and assistant
so you confronted techno about this
which left him a little surprised
cause he was the one supposed to confront people, not the other way around
this made him intrigued about you
so techno spent more time with you to learn more about you
which caused the both of you to get closer
when people saw this, they were really confused
cause he was so soft, caring, and nice around but around them he was cold and intimidating
but then techno started to act very flustered and nervous around you
he tried to hide it, but failed
like you would just be talking to him and he would just randomly act flustered
"okay so since he's in [street name], we should turn left to catch up." you said while holding onto the steering wheel. "uh huh..." techno just looked at you, not saying a word.
"techno? are you listening?"
"oh- uhm. yeah, sorry." he said as he opened the sunroof and got out his gun.
this kept happening so you decided to confront him about it
(the same way you first confronted him)
"techno, are you alright? everytime we're in a mission or just talking you seem really out of it"
"i'm fine, just tired."
which isnt true?? his whole brand was like staying up and still having enough energy for a mission
so you were suspicious but didnt think much of it
he confessed while you were at a diner talking about an upcoming mission
you drank some water and cleared your throat. "do you think we need a disguise?"
"uhm, i think we need to..."
"need to?" you waited for his answer. "i like you." he blurted out, looking down at the ground tp avoideye contact. all you could was smile, "i like you too techno, a lot."
technoblade looked back up to you slowly with a small smile but with a shocked expression. you cup his cheek from across the table and caress it, smiling.
Wilbur
he would be a combination of george and dream
prim, proper, and friendly
missions with him would be fun but still professional
he'd crack jokes all the time but at the same time he can finish the mission
idk why but for some reason he loves timing himself during missions
"aye y/n, we got 3 days and 7 hours! not as good as last time but still alright"
"wilbur why do you even keep track-"
anyways
all of a sudden, he started to be more messy during missions out of nowhere
like instead of having everything in control, everything would be out of place
one time you both almost let the alien escape
"wil are you alright? you've been a little off lately." he rubbed the back of his neck, "yeah, i'm fine, completely fine."
you were worried so from time to time you would ask him if he was alright
and he would always answer with the same thing
"i'm fine, y/n. don't worry about me"
or something along those lines
he confessed during an argument
"wil we could've died! we and many people could've died." wilbur paced around the room, rubbing his neck and running his hand through his hair from time to time.
"i know, i know."
"if you know then why did you do that?" you said, raising your voice. "because-"
"beacuse what wilbur? you're feeling a little tired but you're fine? wil please tell me what's goin-" you were yelling and your eyes started to become moist. "because i like you, y/n. so so much."
he cupped your face with both of his hands as his eyes began to moist as well. "i-i like you too wilbur." was all you managed to choke out. "but please be more careful. you promise?" wilbur placed his forehead on yours, "i promise."
#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken#georgenotfound#georgenotfound imagine#georgenotfound x reader#sapnap x reader#sapnap imagine#sapnap#karl jacobs x reader#karl jacobs#karl jacobs imagine#quackity#quackityhq#quackity imagine#quackity x reader#technoblade imagine#technoblade x reader#technoblade#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot imagine#mcyt#mcyt x reader#mcyt imagine#dream smp#dream smp x reader#dream smp imagine
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Amoreena | Chapter two
Chapter Two
summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.
Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers
word count: 6k
a/n: this is set May 2021 in my brain just in case anyone was wondering while reading it !! here is the pinterest board and the spotify playlist for the fic too!
from the beginning <3
They were sitting on the steps of the Smithsonian when he arrived. Y/N was a vision in a yellow blouse and blue jeans, basking in the sun's rays when she looked more like sunshine herself, throwing seed at the birds with Amoreena.
He took a deep breath and smiled, waving to get their attention.
“Spencer!” Amoreena cheered, running down the steps and into his arms. Almost knocking her hat off as she leapt into his arms.
“Oof,” is all he can say as he makes sure to catch her, surprised to get this sort of reaction from someone.
She fixes her hat and leans back in his arms, “do you like my outfit? I’m the old man from Tarzan and mom is Jane!”
He sets her down then, watching her stick a foot out so he can get a good look at her olive-coloured jean shorts, button-up shirt and blue bowtie and brown boots. She went all out for her adventure today, making his heart burst.
“I looked into that Milo guy,” he says, showing off his own outfit. Pushing his glasses up and adjusting his red bowtie.
“You look just like him!!!” She was beyond excited, turning to Y/N who was all smiles on the steps.
She stood as they walked towards her, “mom look, he’s Milo!”
“You look great,” she complimented him, that twinkle in her eyes back as she blushed.
“Thank you, so do you,” he said softly. “Both of you are dressed for the right adventure today.”
“What do you have in store Mr. tour guide?” Y/N teased, taking Amoreena’s hand and walking into the museum.
“Dr. Tour guide,” he corrects her softly, making her smile and shove him lightly.
“Sorry,” she teased him, “Doctor tour guide, what is your plan for today?”
“I bought 3 tickets ahead of time,” Spencer admits, taking three lanyards out of his jacket pocket and handing them each one. “We have special access today, just show the guards these and we can go almost anywhere.”
“Are you sure you don’t work here? Not even undercover?” Amoreena interrogated him, narrowing her eyes as she watched his response.
He laughed, “I promise, I helped them on a case once, and my old boss knows the curator, they owed me a favour.”
“Old boss?” Y/N catches it.
He nods lightly, “he quit a while ago to have a family.”
“Smart man.”
“I sent in my letter of resignation last night,” he adds, “if you’re still looking for a literary historian?”
She beamed at him, reaching out an arm to tuck under his and pull him in close. Following him through the doors with Amoreena’s hand still in hers. “I’ll arrange an interview this week.”
The rotunda was one of the coolest parts of the Smithsonian Museum of National History. A beautiful African Bush Elephant greets them in the centre, tusks extending out towards them as Amoreena gasps.
“Wow,” her small voice whispers.
“Cool, huh?” Spencer leans to look at her expression, she’s absolutely gobsmacked.
It makes him smile, that beautiful glimmer of amazement spreading across her face as her small brain tries to understand what exists in the world outside of her mind's grasp. It was priceless, he loved every moment.
“So, I was thinking you could look around and whenever you’re ready, we have access to the Student Centre. You’re going to get to look at some special bones and fossils, and even dig some up!” He was so excited to share the plans with her.
She let go of her mom's hand to flap her arms wildly, excitement coursing through her veins as she shook, grinding her teeth together as she smiled, it was how he remembered feeling as a child when something good happened. Pure joy, excitement level 1000.
“Sound good?”
“Spencer,” Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, taking over for the speechless child, “that sounds perfect, thank you.”
“The Dino’s are this way,” he leads them down the corridor, through a set of doors towards a large swirling sign,
“Journey through deep time!” Y/N read the sign, smiling at Amoreena as she ran towards it, touching the swirl as she read all the words to herself.
“It’s so sad they died,” Amoreena says so matter of factly that it makes him bite back a smile.
“Yeah,” he agrees with a small laugh. Y/N's shaking her head with a sigh of pure love. “What kind of dinosaur is your favourite?”
“The Jurassic era,” she responds, standing closer to the sign and reading all the words. “Did you know the earth used to be mostly desert? There was a massive heatwave, that’s why they believe dinosaurs were most likely scaled but thanks to the melting ice caps as we recover from the ice age and move back towards being tropical, we’re discovering dinosaurs frozen in ice with feathers and fur!”
It takes his breath away, seeing someone so much like him with a mother who loves every single word that leaves her mouth. Pride on her face as she looks at her little genius and back towards Spencer, waiting for his response.
“So you’ve been a paleontologist this whole time and you never told me?”
She laughs and swats the air, “no, I just read a lot of books.”
“She can read really fast, like Matilda,” Y/N bragged.
“I do too,” Spencer knelled down in front of her. “It’s a very wonderful thing to have a brain as big and magical as ours, never let anyone tell you otherwise okay?”
“Never, I’m the smartest in the kingdom,” Amoreena smiled.
“Yes, she is,” Y/N smiled again, placing her hand on Spencer's back as they continued to walk around the exhibits.
He felt like he had a family, like one of those couples who would go to Ikea and pretend they lived in the sets. This was the most perfect make-believe day of his life, leading a child just like him through a world of things she loved.
Y/N was quiet most of the day, watching them interact with a soft smile and sad eyes. Spencer noticed it but let it slide, he’d ask her about it later when she could be honest with him. He didn’t want to profile her, it wasn’t fair to judge her before he knew her, nor taint the fantastical thoughts he already had about her.
They had lunch in the butterfly exhibit, sitting at the seat by the fountain, Amoreena asking nicely if Spencer could sit in the middle so they could both talk to him. It was adorable, Amoreena was so intrigued by his mind she couldn’t stop asking him questions.
Y/N made him a sandwich and brought him a water bottle, as well as bringing some apple slices and grapes, goldfish and juice boxes for when Amoreena got hungry on the way home. Like a true mom, her purse was full of napkins and hair ties, random books and toys. Rocks, pine cones, everything a young mind would find exciting.
She was like Marry Poppins, pulling everything and then some out of her purse as she searched for something specific. “I brought you something, I’ve had it sitting around the house just moving it to different spots over the years, and thought you’d like it.”
It made him giddy to know she was thinking about him, he couldn’t sit still as he anticipated what it was. She pulled a small metal pin out of her bag then, taking the backing off and clipping it to his pocket.
“Best tour guide ever,” she whispered, reading the words to him with a smile.
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he shrugged, pushing down the butterflies in his stomach as they were swarmed by the beautiful creatures.
“It’s like animal crossing in here,” Amoreena said to herself as she looked around, kicking her feet as she sat on the bench, tilting her head back and forth absentmindedly as she took it all in.
He wasn’t sure when he stopped doing that; when he started to mask his true self so much that he no longer felt free in public, taking a moment to copy her movements and just enjoy the moment. Making her smile as she noticed him copy her with adoration, not to tease her in any way whatsoever.
“Can we talk when she’s looking at the fossils?” He asks Y/N softly, knowing that she’ll be the most open when Amoreena’s tiny ears wouldn’t be there to remember everything she says.
“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “How about I throw out our garbage and we head to that surprise?”
Amoreena jumped off the bench, tugging Spencer towards the door as Y/N cleaned up, following them eventually.
—
They had the classroom all to themselves and Amoreena was still for the first time all day. Standing in the middle of the room as the lights adjusted, changing the glow from blue to amber as they warmed.
The walls were filled with posters and informative signs, there were glass cases showcasing all the finest fossils and bones known to man. And a sand table in the middle of the room, smocks and brushes for archaeology all set up and waiting for her.
“Once you get all suited up, and we’ll get you a little mask so you don’t breathe in any of the dirt and dust, you can dig up whatever is hidden in there!” Spencer announced.
Y/N helped her into a smock, handing her the brushes and asking her to be extra careful with the plastic chisel and hammer. She was beaming from ear to ear the most toothy smile he’s ever seen.
Y/N stopped to take a photo of her then, holding her instruments in front of the sand table, “get in, we’ll tell everyone that Milo took us on a special tour today.”
Spencer kneeled close to Amoreena, she leaned in and wrapped an arm around him to get him in closer, always being the one to choose how much contact she made with Spencer. He would never want to overstep with someone else’s child.
“Beautiful!” Y/N cheered, locking her phone and slipping it back into her jeans as Amoreena turned to the table of sand, dirt and clay.
She got right to work, not skipping a beat as she leaned in and started to dig. Spencer stepped back with Y/N, knowing Amoreena was going to be in her own little world for as long as they left her alone.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great, I’m just a little surprised,” her voice is soft, low enough that it stays with him. “You’re really good with her for a fed.”
He laughed, nodding his head as he registered her joke. “Ex fed, and I have a 12-year-old godson, Henry.”
“Ahh, so no kids of your own?” Her voice was small, she took a look at his hand to avoid eye contact and he understood.
“None, no wife, no love children hiding out there in the world that I know of, it’s just me, I promise,” he tried his best to ease her anxiety about introducing a new man into her child’s life.
She nods slightly, “you seem too good to be true sometimes.”
He huffed out a small laugh, pressing his lips together as he looked at her, “pretty sure I’ve been dreaming since I saw you.”
She shoved him as she laughed, “would you like to come back to our place for dinner? I know it’s a little weird, believe me, I know, but we live on my parent's land and my mom’s making enough shepherds pie to feed an army.”
“Yeah I’d love to, I’ll get a cab home after,” he felt a swirling in his stomach, nervous and excited all at once.
“Okay,” she whispered, “or we can get to know each other, and then you could sleep on the couch and I’ll bring you back into DC in the morning? I have to drive in any way.”
He licked his lips and nodded his head, wondering what other kind of invitation this could be. If it was pure hospitality, wanting him to be safe for the night instead of inside some stranger's car, or was she wanting alone time with him.
The thoughts turned around in his head over and over making him dizzy, “okay, yeah I’d love to,” he managed to slip the words out without falling over them.
She smiled, tight-lipped and small. Looking up at him with a new look he hasn’t seen on her yet, one he’s only seen in a few faces in his time, and yet he believed her’s the most.
She was smitten with him as much as he was with her.
He sighed, smiling back at her just as soft. She reached her hand out to hold his, walking towards the table with him in tow. Leaning over Amoreena’s shoulder as she unearthed her new most prized possessions.
—
Amoreena was the funniest kid to drive with, He sat in the passenger seat of Y/N’s car with her in a car seat directly behind him. She was singing, cheering, pointing out the window to show him all her favourite things on the way to her house.
Telling him stories about the make-believe people she created to live in the houses, the trolls under bridges and the names of every cow in the field along the long driveway of her grandparent's farm.
“Bob and Linda are an interesting pair,” she warned him as they pulled in closer and closer. Dirt flying up behind the wheels as she drove fast, knowing every bump and turn from memory.
“They will be asking you every question in the book and if you’re going to be looking at the animals they will insist on putting you in flannel and a cowboy hat, it’s a tradition for visitors,” she explained it in a way where he knew she wanted him to think she hated it, but actually she looked excited to do it to him.
“I can’t wait,” he smiled.
“Amoreena has already told them all about you at dinner last night, so they are expecting her to drag you here tonight,” she pushed the blame onto Amoreena, downplaying her affection for him in a self-conscious way he could feel.
He didn’t want to profile her, but it wouldn’t turn off. He was desperate to know her more, to know if she felt the weird tugging in her heart that made him think soulmates might be real. A pain so intense that if he had to explain it to a doctor, it was like his heart was a negative charge and he was being drawn to her much more positive one.
“We have 16 cats, 46 cows, 13 chickens, 4 ducks, 50 sheep and 1 horse, her name is buttercup,” Amoreena informed him, stealing the attention once again.
“Wow, who’s your favourite?” Spencer turned to her, watching her kick her feet as she looked out the windows.
“Probably Alfonzo our fluffy show cow, or Rufus, our dog,” she said softly. “Sometimes nanny lets him sleep at our house.”
“That’s so cool, I’ve never had a pet.”
“What?!” Amoreena stopped, pressing her lips together as her eyes shot wide open, thinking it was the most absurd thing anyone has ever said.
“My mom was sick when I was growing up so I spent my time taking care of her, I didn’t have time for a dog,” he said softly, saying it in a way that wouldn’t scare her.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N said softly, reaching her hand out to pat his knee as she kept her eyes on the road.
Then she was pulling in past a big house, around the bend behind it, past the garden and the trail to the barn towards another house. It was big and white, probably big enough to have 4 bedrooms. Many levels, with multiple build-ons from years ago ageing to match eventually.
It was covered in vines, ivy and flowers. It was just like miss honeys. He felt something unspeakable, opening his mouth softly to breathe as his eyes trailed up the siding to the shingles.
He couldn’t believe it.
“Home sweet home,” her wonderful voice brought him back to reality. Saying the word that matched the feeling in his chest.
“Wow,” he whispered. His mouth moved to say words, not a single one slipped through the cracks, his lips touching with fake syllables as he stared at it.
“It was my grandma’s, it’s the house she raised my dad in,” Y/N explained as she put the car in park.
“Mommy had me as a gift for GG,” Amoreena added from the back.
“Her great-grandma,” Y/N nodded with a soft smile, biting the inside of her lip as she fought her feelings. That was a touchy subject that he was going to pry into, later on, wanting to know every single thing about the most exceptional women in the world.
There was a cat sitting on their front step, introduced to him as toothpick because he was the smallest in the last litter. And then the name of every single cat on the way back up to the main house.
Simon and Gar-funk-field twin orange brothers, Alaska the all-white one, strawberry shortcake had a red heart on her butt, oven-mitt for comedic effect obviously as if they others weren’t funny enough, as well as shovel and Catrina… all 16 of them had a name and Spencer was not going to forget a single one.
“Welcome! You must be Doctor Reid,” her father was a very large man, it shocked Spencer slightly.
He was like Santa Clause, it was more than a bit of a shock. Thick grey beard, bald head, red flannel and dirty work jeans, probably in his late 60’s. He was what you imagined Santa to look like outside of Christmas, on holiday with his wife.
He looked like a man who lived a long and happy life, he had a wife who cooked good meals for him, he probably didn’t mind sitting back with a beer most nights. There was definitely going to be sports memorabilia inside and a million photos of Y/N and Amoreena, and the purest energy known to man. Family love.
He hated how fast he profiled it all in his mind, trying to drop that aspect of his inner monologue moving forward.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Sir,” he said softly, nodding lightly as he placed his hands in his pockets. Letting it be known he didn’t touch people, and weirdly being respected.
“Please, it’s Bob or Poppy Clause,” he laughed, shifting his attention to Amoreena as she climbed the stairs towards the porch.
“How is my lovey?” Bob asked her softly, “may I have a welcome home hug?”
“Ah,” he smiled and nodded to himself. He was used to it, asking permission for her sensory issues. Spencer was impressed, and a bit emotional at the fact someone his age was respecting a way of life many didn’t care to understand.
Amoreena gave him a hug, throwing herself into his arms, “no beard tickles,” she instructed, holding onto his shoulders as he kept his face away from her.
Y/N placed her hand on Spencers back, “I told you they were a lot, my mom is worse.”
“I feel very comfortable here, don’t worry,” he assured her.
“I should worry,” she laughed, “you’re one of them, oh god.”
“One of who?”
She tilted her head at him, shaking her head, “eccentric, full of life, bursting with weirdness that would probably be a strange purple goo if I could see it.”
He pressed his lips together as he thought about it, nodding softly in agreement. “There is nothing wrong with that, it just means I’m having fun and living my best life from now on.”
“Welcome to the family,” Bob added, a simple saying that invoked a feeling of pride he long yearned for.
—
Dinner was lovely, he’s never had shepherd’s pie before. Learning it was ground beef, beans and potato casserole, and somehow there was also corn in there… he wasn’t sure why it was so delicious but he enjoyed it a lot.
It might have simply been the ambiance that made it so good.
Her mother was the sweetest woman, she made everything from scratch. Including bread that he was obsessed with and a pie for dessert, she was overjoyed to have an expected yet unexpected guest.
Knowing there was a possibility he’d come, but not setting a place for him at the table unless he showed. She wrapped him up in a big hug when he arrived as well as after dinner when he helped her move the plates to the sink.
Her dad offered him a beer after dinner, taking him to the front porch to talk while the ladies cleaned up for the night. Amoreena had a strict bedtime routine to stick to, and it wasn’t his place to witness nor get in the way.
“So,” her dad started the interrogation easily. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be here if Y/N didn’t trust you. And she doesn’t trust many people.”
“I can promise you I’ll never hurt either of them,” he said with the utmost confidence. “It’s been two days and they’ve brought me more joy than I can explain, and I’m never going to take that for granted.”
“Good answer,” he smiled. “Now, farmhouse rules are as follows; you can roam where ever you please, just ask permission before using any equipment, we’re more of a petting zoo than a farm now so the animals are overly friendly, try and keep them inside the gates.”
He was a bit flustered, computing the fact that he just trusted him like that. Maybe he was Santa Clause, making a list and checking it twice, and Spencer happened to cross off every box to land him on the nice one.
“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Thank you.”
“Believe me, sonny, I know what it’s like to want to impress the old man, but it’s all about Amoreena,” Bob warned him. “If she loves you then so will Y/N, and she falls fast.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m the same way.”
“That’s what Y/N was saying, I think it’ll be good for Amoreena to know someone like her, we try our best to get her out there and making friends, she’s smart enough to move up some grades but she’s a kid, y’know?” Her father basically describing his own childhood back to him.
“I graduated high school at 13,” he presses his lips together, hoping it doesn’t come off as a brag. Taking a sip of his beer to take the edge off how awkward he felt.
“Do you regret it?”
“No,” he smiled at Bob, who was smiling right back, “it led me here.”
Bob hummed in response, taking a sip as well as he sat back in his rocking chair, watching over the cows in the field as the sun began to set. It was picture perfect, unbelievable.
Wet feet on the hardwood floor caught his attention then, Amoreena was in her PJ’s as she ran towards the door. Putting on her rubber boots and swinging open the screen door.
Her hair was wet, falling into her eyes as she pushed it out of the way, “are you joining the parade and dance party?”
He acted like he knew what that meant, “sure?”
“Yes!” She cheered, “hurry up mom!!”
Y/N walked down the steps slowly, shaking her head as she laughed. “You are so impatient, the animals aren’t going anywhere.”
“No, but Spencer will!”
It made his heartache, the thought of leaving.
“Come on,” she slipped back into her shoes and joined them on the porch. “Off we go, see you later dad.”
“Be good, make wise choices,” he teased her.
“Okay old fart, sleep well,” they had a friendship that was admirable.
Spencer followed with glee as Amoreena said goodnight to all the animals, parading down the path towards their house as she made sure to talk to everything on the way there.
“Every night we pick 2 songs to dance to, it gets all the sillies out and rewards us for a day well spent so we can bless our bodies with a good sleep,” Y/N explains as she unlocks the front door.
A cottage full of books in the middle of the woods, that dream he always had, coming true as she ushered him inside. The smell of coffee drifting towards him as he noticed the brown candle on the mantle surrounded by photos of Y/N and her family.
She placed her keys beside it, kicking off her shoes and making sure Amoreena did the same. In the living room, she connected her phone to a set of speakers, letting the little one pick out 2 songs, queueing them up to play as she bounced with anticipation.
“Tonight’s selection is today was a fairytale by miss Swift, and Anne Hathaway’s cover of somebody to love, form the cinematic masterpiece that is Ella Enchanted,” Y/N announced like she was hosting the grammies, pretending her phone was the mic before hitting play.
He knew somebody to love, the Elton John version, it was a song that Penelope and Emily sang at karaoke when they reached 11 shots each, so not very often. But enough to have him remember the words, singing along with them as they danced.
It was a better workout than Derek had ever put him through, they held hands and jumped around, he twirled Amoreena around, pretending to do the tango with Y/N. Waving their arms in the air, it was the most carefree he has been in ages.
The songs fit the situation more perfectly than any of them seem to realize, he’s falling head over heels in love with this family that he met yesterday. Something in him saying that he needs to stay, that this is where he was supposed to be.
Getting Amoreena into bed was more difficult than Y/N imagined, she didn’t want to stop talking to Spencer. Only finally agreeing to sleep when she learned he would still be there for breakfast in the morning.
“Can you read me a book from your brain?” Her sleep-deprived eyes blinked as she asked him softly.
He looked at Y/N from the doorway, she nodded, patting the bed for Spencer to sit on the edge.
“Any book?”
“Any book.”
“Bedtime for baby star,” he says softly. Remembering all the late night’s he’s heard JJ whisper it on the back of the plane, in the corner of a police precinct in the middle of nowhere, in a twin bed beside his as they shared a hotel room.
“Once there was a baby star, she lived up by the sun. And every night at bedtime, that baby star wanted to have some fun,” he recited the words in an exciting tone, just low enough to soothe her into sleep. “She would sine and sine and fall and shoot and twinkle, oh so bright, and she said ‘Mommy! I’ll run away if you make me say goodnight.’”
Y/N looked at her with a fake stern look, leaning in enough to rub their noses together. “And then her mommy kissed her sparkly nose and said, no matter where you go,”
Y/N kissed her on the nose, “no matter where you go,” she repeated.
“No matter where you are, no matter how big you grow and even if you stray far,” to which Y/N repeated. “I’ll love you forever because you’ll always be my baby star.”
“Goodnight my sweet Amoreena,” Y/N kissed her head softly and stood, Spencer, joined her by the door.
“Can I have a hug?” She asked him softly, he looked at Y/N for approval once again.
She placed a hand on his back as she nodded, watching him lean in and hold Amoreena softly, “goodnight, I had a fun day today.”
“See you tomorrow,” she smiled, closing her eyes for the night.
Y/N replaced her lamp light with a night light, closing the door on the way out of her room as she blew a kiss towards her baby, “love you.”
“Love you more,” Amoreena whispered back.
Spencer was nothing but smiles in the hall as she looked at him, “I’m going to pour myself some wine and sit in the garden, are you interested?”
“Ecstatic actually,” he replied, following her towards the kitchen and letting her pour him a glass.
Behind her house, she had an overgrown garden, every area of her life had a reference to a book somewhere, a story someone else told that she’s now claimed as her own. Living in the world she always wanted, inviting Spencer to stay a while.
She let out a deep sigh as she sat down on the outdoor couch beside him, dropping her head on his shoulder softly, it was more contact than he was expecting. She had barely touched him.
“You should know that I like you a lot,” Spencer spoke softly. “I don’t want you to think I’m just some creep trying to get close to you and your kid, I genuinely think you’re wonderful and Amoreena is magnificent.”
“I trust you, I googled you and everything, don’t worry,” she laughs. “I wouldn’t invite you to the museum and let you give my kid a hug without doing research.”
“Not everything is on there you know.”
“I think you are very wonderful as well,” she said softly, “but I know it’s just the fact that you’re so darn cute that’s making me feel like I should drop everything and invite you into our life.”
“I understand,” he replied. Waiting for her to tell him that this was the last time she’d see him, it was inevitable at this point in his life. Nothing good lasted for long.
“So I need you to know all about me and I need to know all about you before you decide you want to stay because I can’t handle bringing you into Amoreena’s life for you to just leave her,” another deflection.
“You might want to hear mine first before you decide if you want me to stay around her,” it sounded scarier than he planned.
“Alright then, you go first,” she insisted with a small smile, eyes darting past him towards the cows in the field. Not ready to be vulnerable with him.
“I worked with the FBI for 15 years, I’ve helped catch some of the worst people in America, and some of them have vendetta’s against me. As far fetched and insane as that sounds,” he pre-warned her, watching her face drop as she understood the weight of his words.
“I have been framed and sent to prison for three months, I was kidnaped, tortured, drugged, and assaulted, not to mention shot a few times. I have more trauma than you can imagine. So that’s something you have to consider in a future with me,” he whispered so she wouldn’t hear how ashamed he was of himself.
“And the fact know that I can’t always keep myself or you safe, no matter how far disconnected I am from the FBI. It doesn’t matter if I change my name and hide here for the rest of my life off the grid. There are some fucked up minds out there that don’t want to let me experience true happiness. But in all honesty,” he finally stops his long-winded rant. He bites his bottom lip as if he is holding back someone worse than all the things he just said.
“I’m willing to die tomorrow if it means my last day on earth was this fucking perfect.” Tears welled in his eyes, “I am so tired.”
“It’s okay to cry, I would be too,” she says softly, a frog in her throat as she nodded. Tears welling in her eyes as her face scrunched.
He blinked and a tear escaped, slipping down his cheek and being swiped off by her thumb in an instant. She kept her hand on his cheek softly, he leaned into it.
“I’ve been running for so long,” he whispers because then the words don’t really exist. They’re secrets only for her to hear and then they’re gone. “I was basically groomed for the FBI, I was their personal computer and they didn’t give a single shit about the wear and tear on me.”
He started to sob. She cradled his head against her chest in one swift motion, holding him close and rubbing his back. Shushing him softly as he cried into her shoulder.
“You know that Katy Perry song?” she changed the subject as he calmed down, understanding his pain and accepting his warnings, but continuing down the path anyway.
“Summer after high school when we first met,” she sang like an angel. “It was like that, I thought I met the love of my life after I graduated, we got engaged a year later, then he died in a car crash and I was single for a very long time.”
“Then my grandma got sick and she made a bucket list. Number one was to become a great grandma,” her words became whispers as she tried to stop the tears, following Spencer’s tactic even though it failed so miserably.
“I said fuck it. I’m going to have a baby and make my own family, one person I can truly care for and never lose. She’s my world, she was the light of my grandma’s life until it burnt out, she has changed my world in ways I can’t even explain.”
It fell silent as they absorbed each other’s explanations of their issues. The root of their problems, the core of their soul were the most hurt was kept locked away, opening the doors and swapping scrapbook snapshots of terrible memories.
“I think,” she says, finally, like music to his ears. “I think that I’m okay, I’m positive actually that I want you in my life like this. All of you is fine with me, you’re not that scary, and I’m tired of waiting for the right moments because it means losing the people over time missed. I want to live my life fully, I’m at peace with the unknown and with you.”
Peace.
“Not to quote Taylor Swift at you or anything, but she does have a point in that song,” she laughed lightly and he felt her chest jump. Life bursting through her as she made light of an incredibly touchy subject.
“I don’t know the song,” he whispers.
She gasps, “oh that’s the line, I finally found it. Our first fight can be whether or not you like Taylor Swift, don’t even think about how upset Amoreena will be if you’re not, I’ll kick you out.”
He can't stop laughing then, digging his face into her neck as he holds her closer to his chest. Breathing her in as she finishes his laugh in a giggle, rubbing her hands down his back as she presses her cheek to his head.
“I haven’t had the time to listen to her this year I know she’s been busy releasing music,” he admits, “but I’m sure I’ll love it.”
She shifts awkwardly on the couch to take her phone out of her pocket, opening her music and playing the song she was speaking of.
He simply rests his head on her chest, both of them laying back onto the cushions together, finding a comforting spot for their arms as they listened to the words, silently.
He absorbed it all, every word she said bringing forth a feeling he’s never felt before. True understanding, like someone, gets him. Gasping audibly when she says ‘robbers to the east clowns to the west, give you my sunshine, give you my best.’
He wasn’t alone.
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#amoreena
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Life Was A Willow [Part 2]
Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader
Part 1 Part 3
Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right?
Word Count: 3.6k+
Warnings for Part 2: violence, mentions of death (familial), swearing
A/N: part 2 !!!! thank you so much for the support and feedback from part 1, omg thank you !! well, i hope you enjoy part 2 ahhhhh !!
It’s 9 pm and Y/n still waits for the signal. She looks in the direction of the Castle and swings her feet back and forth from where she sits on the cottage’s roof.
The air is cold and the trees continue to rustle, the same way they do every day, but tonight, she has an eerie feeling about it. Regret slips into her mind sometimes, telling her that she is foolish for even accepting such a vague invitation by someone she doesn’t even know—but it was so intriguing and she trusts them (she doesn’t exactly know why).
Suddenly, a large pop startles Y/n out of her daze. Sparkles dance in the sky as fireworks burst from the land below. She quickly notes that the explosions are coming from the West side of the Castle and takes that as the signal. Very grand indeed.
Y/n jumps from the roof, landing gracefully on the dirt, and takes off running through the forest. She misses tree roots emerging from the earth and ducks under low branches from the undergrowth. The only thing that lights her path is the moonlight and at this moment, Y/n is thriving. The full moon allows her abilities to heighten and she places her full trust in her instincts.
The fireworks continue to explode and Y/n fills with more adrenaline, the sound making her scream out in joy. She’s excited about the meeting, and she doesn’t even know who it is. And maybe that’s what she’s eager for; the unknown.
The entirety of the concept scared her before, but now she’s exhilarated. And as the show comes to a close, Y/n nears the East side of the Castle. It’s completely silent at this end and the eerie feeling she had before creeps back. It’s not a feeling of uncertainty but one of opportunity and her instincts are telling her to take it.
When she reaches the abandoned cottage, Y/n inhales sharply. There’s no light coming from the house and the door remains closed. As she steps onto the stairs in front, the wood creams beneath her and she scolds for giving away herself to the person inside. Instead of sneaking around, Y/n stomps towards the door and swings it open.
She sees a man in the corner and makes her way towards him, her hands out and ready in case this interaction goes south.
“Who are you? And how do you know me?” Y/n calls out. The man jumps slightly and lifts his head. And in the moonlight flooding in through the window, Y/n recognises him as Dream, even with his mask off. He stands in a white button-up and brown pants, his hunter boots on and a newsboy hat sat on his blonde hair.
“Dream?”
“Hi, Y/n. I knew you would recognise me.” Y/n doesn’t want to look away from him. This is the first time she’s seen his face, and despite the darkness, she sees how handsome he is.
“Why—how? Why did you want to meet me in such a creepy way?” Y/n asks in disgust, picking a cobweb out of her hair and then off of her shoulder; they seem to be everywhere. Her expression falls back to one of admiration when she looks back at him. However, the moonlight lacked the light Y/n needed to see him properly.
Dream laughs slowly. “I forgot to bring a lighter for the lamp. Do you think you could, uh—maybe,”
“Glady,” Y/n sighs and flicks her hand towards the candle in the glass encasing. It immediately comes to life and the room becomes brightly lit. Her eyes fall onto Dream again and she finally sees him; his piercing green eyes and the scar that runs from the top of his left temple to the corner of his lip.
“Wow,” Dream mumbles under his breath. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, and I know that everybody I know would, just, obliterate me for even thinking about doing this, but I needed to talk to you about—“
“You’re rambling.”
“Right, right...”
Y/n squints at the man and then tilts her head. “Whose C?”
Dream’s eyes widen as he nods. “Yeah, uh, that’s me. My name’s Clay.”
The witch doesn’t say anything as she stares at him. “So why do they call you Dream?”
This isn’t where Dream thought the conversation would go, but he’s happy they’re not fighting.
“My mother came up with the nickname when I was born. I nearly didn’t make it and then through some miracle, I did. So, she called me her Dream.” Y/n can tell the story makes him emotional, so she doesn’t push any further.
“That’s really sweet, Dream.” And at the sound of his real name, Dream perks up slightly before he cracks a smile. Y/n grins back at him; a real genuine smile. The pair stand in the low lit room in comfortable silence, until Y/n’s curiosity gets the better of her.
“What did you want to talk about?” She asks. Dream nods once and continues from where he was cut off before.
“I wanted to discuss the possibility of a truce between witches and hunters,” Dream isn’t smiling anymore, instead his lips are screwed up and his hands fidget in front of him. Y/n, however, grins even bigger.
“I’m all for that, honestly. I’m tired of being on edge every day and being scared for my life. If we can find a way to create peace, even for a little bit, I’m on board.” Y/n keeps it short for now, not wanting to scare him off by how passionate she feels about the situation.
Dream’s eyes light up at the sound of her agreeing. “Really?” Y/n nods and becomes surprised when she feels Dream’s arms wrap around her. “Thank you, thank you.”
“No, Dream, thank you! I’ve been trying to convince people of this for years. I’m really glad that you feel the same way.” The pair pull apart and Dream flicks his eyes down to Y/n’s lips for a split second.
“You’re so pretty,” Y/n nearly chokes at his comment. Dream feels his cheeks burn when the words tumble out and soon they’re both flustered. “Sorry! Oh my, I’m sorry, that didn't mean to slip out—”
“Dream, it’s fine. I think you’re pretty too; especially without the mask.”
The hunter swats the witch’s shoulder playfully. “Stop~” The pair laugh together, and then proceed to stand in another comfortable silence. The wind howls and whistles outside and makes the cottage creak, adding to the eerie aura that surrounds it.
“What’s with the hat? It’s nighttime.”
Dream plucks the accessory off of his head and runs his opposite hand through his hair, the soft locks falling back into place when his hand returns to his side. “Part of the disguise, duh.”
Y/n squints at him, her expression morphing into one of mischief. “Isn’t the mask a disguise in itself, though? Also, put the hat back on, you look handsome with it.” It’s time for Dream to blush now. He covers his face with his hat and scoffs softly. “Y/n!”
The girl slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her embarrassed laughs. “It’s true!”
The man rolls his eyes before placing the hat back on his head. “Happy?”
Y/n nods before telling him to answer about the mask.
“Well, no, nobody at the Castle actually knows what I look like—except for my best friends, Sapnap and George.”
“George? As in Prince George?” Y/n is shocked, to say the least. She now understands why Dream is so passionate about the peace between the Hunters and Witches. Prince George is known for his differing morals and ideas from his family, which makes him stand out from the other Royals. Y/n admires his bravery and courage to do so.
“Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were young. I’m jealous that he can be so open with his opinions in that Castle—Lord knows if I was, I'd be executed,” This makes Y/n’s stomach drop. “But, it’s okay, with your help, hopefully, we can convince humans and magical-kind alike, that there can be peace. A—And we can live together in harmony, without being consumed by the overbearing thought of death every moment of our lives.”
Dream stops his tangent, his face flushed and his eyes pleading. Y/n feels like crying; she has waited years for someone to be as passionate as her about this topic. “I’ll help you, Dream, no matter what; because I wholeheartedly believe we can do this. I trust you.”
Y/n shocks herself with this statement; she’s never trusted a human before.
“And I trust you Y/n.” The pair stare at each other, smiles spread across their cheeks as the night outside slips away, and then it’s just them; standing in the main area of a small, abandoned cottage that sits East of the Castle, lit up with a lantern that casts a warm glow over the pair. Y/n can almost say it looks and feels magical.
“Ok, enough flirting, let’s get planning on the truce. Sounds like a plan, doll?” Dream gives her a lopsided smile and Y/n feels her heart rate increase at the sight of him.
“Where were you?” Wilbur says. His voice is deeper than usual and fits in perfectly with the way he’s sitting ominously in the dark. Y/n stops tiptoeing towards her room and turns to face him; defeated that she got caught. However, she still remains giddy and her heart beats faster for other reasons.
“I was meeting with Schlatt—I need more toadstools for a potion I’m making.”
Wilbur squints at her, his lips curling into a frown. “I know you’re lying, and so does Niki.”
Y/n sighs and starts walking towards him. “I’m sorry—“ She pauses when she sees Wilbur shake his head.
“Don’t.”
Y/n screws her lips together and nods once. Her once excited demeanour fading away when she sees Wilbur’s look of disappointment. “I was meeting one of the new hunters, Dream.”
Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, “What? Why?”
“We’re formulating a truce amongst witches and hunters.”
He raises his eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. “Okay? And why are you doing this? We don’t need peace.”
“Uh, so we’re not in danger every living second?” Y/n’s nerves grow into anger. “Why are you so against the chance of maybe, finally getting this?”
Wilbur shakes his head and stands up, the chair screeching against the wood floors as he moves. “Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?”
Y/n is at a loss for words while the tall man rolls his eyes and leaves, avoiding her as he circles around her to walk down the hallway.
His abrupt exit confuses Y/n. Why is Wilbur so against peace with the Hunters?
—
Dream manages to sneak into the Hunter’s Wing before they lock the front doors for the night. He sits silently on the bench in the training room and slips his boots off, making sure to place them on the floor as quiet as possible. He takes his hat off of his head and holds it in his palms, smiling stupidly at the inanimate object. The flame in the lantern next to him is fizzling out and it's hard to see 4 feet in front of him.
“Dream?” Even in his daze, Dream can sense the anger and fear in Sapnap’s voice.
“Sapnap? Why are you awake?” The younger boy walks out from the hallway and towards him.
“Me? Where were you? It’s midnight.”
Dream sighs and rests the hat on the bench next to him. “I was out.”
“Out? You mean meeting with the witch?”
Dream’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”
“Fireworks don’t just go off for no reason, Dream. And I found the note in your room.” Sapnap says, ripping the letter from his pyjama bottoms pocket.
“Just say you have a crush on her, Dream!” Sapnap yells, throwing his arms up in defeat.
“I don't—I promise, Sapnap.”
“Fine, if you don’t like the witch, then kill her.” Dream’s dumbfounded. He stares at his best friend with such bewilderment that even Sapnap feels a twinge of guilt. Dream sighs, carding his hand through his hair in frustration and confusion.
He doesn’t reply, even when George arrives in a hurry, still in the process of wrapping a dressing gown around his body.
“What’s happened? I heard yelling.” The pair remain frozen, refusing to meet the Prince’s glare as they avoid eye contact.
George shakes his head, “Has this got to do with Dream meeting with the witch?”
“George! How do you know, too?”
George huffs. “I know everything that happens in and outside of my Castle. But, fireworks? Really?”
Dream throws his hands down in frustration. “Yes, fireworks! It was a good distraction and it was a signal for her anyway.”
George eyes the blonde before he crosses his arms over his chest. “As much as you hate to admit it, it's obvious that you’re fond of her, Dream. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side, okay? You know that.”
“What the fuck?” Sapnap spits. “You have his back? George, I can tolerate your ideals about the magical kind, but this is the witch who killed half of the hunter population.”
Dream stills. “What?”
“You’ve gone and done it now, Sapnap!”
“Y/n killed people?”
“Dream—“ George goes to speak, but he’s cut off by Sapnap.
“Yes! That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you! Why do you think we got this job so easily?” Dream stares at the concrete floor, his heart dropping into his stomach. He can’t believe it, he refuses to.
“Sapnap!” George snaps. The younger boy cowers away slightly, his once confronted facade crumbling at the sound of the Prince's tone. “Stop it, right now. You are in no place to tell him this, okay? You may be my best friend but that doesn’t excuse you from doing this.”
Dream chews on his bottom lip quietly as he watches Sapnap turn around and stomp out of the training room, but not before he scrunches up the letter and throws it on the floor. “Thanks.”
George’s gaze remains on the door. “Don’t thank me. He should know better anyway, considering his last relationship.”
The blonde nods once, reminding himself of the youngest boy’s past relationship with a fairy from the kingdom next door. Dream lets out a laugh at the thought.
For the next few days, Y/n hears nothing from Dream. She worries for him, has he been caught?
She stands on the porch of her cottage, hoping, begging for a sign that he is okay. Clouds plague the blue skies above and Y/n knows the bad omens swirling around the kingdom are the cause—and the inside of Niki’s crystal ball had burst with black and dark red clouds which had only confirmed her suspicions.
The wind howls through the trees and calls to her, speaking words of concern under its tongue. Y/n rolls her eyes and sighs, she knows to be careful, especially with the humans inching closer to their world.
However, a faint voice draws Y/n’s attention away from the wind and to the well in the corner of the garden. The sound confuses her at first, and then the wind’s guidance is forgotten as she makes her way towards it. The short fence around the area is still broken from the fight with the hunters weeks ago, and nobody has had a chance to repair it yet, so Y/n takes it upon herself to fix it.
The whispers from the well become a string of mumbles and are impossible to decipher as Y/n kneels with her back towards the forest—and for the first time, she is anxious about what lies within it.
But, before she can even begin picking up the pieces of wood, the sound of someone approaching her at a fast pace alerts Y/n immediately. She spins around with her hands out and is shocked when she sees Dream with his sword raised. The ground moves beneath her feet as she uses the earth’s power to aid her in meeting his strength.
“Dream?” She screams, her body struggling to resist the force of his weapon. Sparkles fall from her fingertips as she pushes back.
“You killed an entire army of people, Y/n!” Dream’s tone is low and angry and Y/n knows he would have found out eventually.
“Dream, I didn’t do that!” Y/n exclaims and Dream swings his sword backwards.
“How can I trust you? Hm? After all, you’ve killed people!” Y/n could cry at his utter naivety. She drops her arms by her sides as Dream glares at her in pure disgust.
“Instead of fighting, can we talk about this?” Y/n pleas. Her feet move swiftly beneath her, maneuvering her body away from Dream’s sword.
Suddenly, Dream brings the sword down to slice into Y/n’s arm, but a force pushes it back towards him, making the blade fly high into the air before it clatters onto the ground.
Y/n stands with her hands out, remnants of glitter falling around her fingers. “I told you! I’d never do that, and I have proof.”
“Proof?” Dream still stares at his sword, unable to meet Y/n’s eye.
“Proof. Now, how about we calm down and I’ll show it to you. Okay? Sounds like a plan?” Dream nods slowly, turning his head to face her. Finally, his green eyes soften and the raging fire that burns within them fizzles out.
“Okay.”
Y/n sighs before she begins. “When a witch kills an innocent; a human, they gain a marking on the back of their neck to signify the betrayal of the harmony between the two. However, since King James, that peace has been terminated; hence his need for hunters, like yourself.
“But, anyway, everybody in this damn kingdom thinks I killed those hunters, but I don’t have the mark,” Y/n turns around, her hand going to lift up her hair from her neck. The skin is clear, with no markings, nothing.
Dream nods, furrowing his eyebrows. “How do I know you didn’t just cast a spell to make it disappear?”
Y/n rolls her eyes. “There’s no way to cover up the marking; it’ll just shine through whatever you put over it. It’s permanent and very obvious.”
“I told you, Dream, I didn’t kill them. I’d never kill an innocent.”
“Why didn’t you show them, then? You've had proof this entire time and never thought to actually show anyone?” Dream is bewildered. Y/n nods slowly, understanding his argument.
“I don't need to prove myself to your kind.” Is all she says. Dream waits for her to continue but soon realises she's not going to. “Fair point.”
“So, why did you come at me swinging? Did you really believe I would do that?” She whispers and Dream feels his heart sink. He is speechless for a few moments—did he really think that? Or was he feeding into Sapnap’s ideology of witches?
“S—Sapnap convinced me of things. I didn’t believe it at first, but the more he went on—I guess he got into my head.”
Y/n cocks her eyebrow and scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, he did. You could’ve easily killed me with the amount of anger you had.”
This makes Dream’s breath catch in his throat. “I—I’m so sorry, Y/n. That was never my intention—”
The witch shakes her head and holds her hand up. “It’s okay, Dream. You didn’t offend me. I’m still here, with you, right? Isn’t that enough to tell you that I’m not angry?”
“Yes! Yes, sorry—”
“Stop saying sorry, it’s annoying.” Y/n giggles, holding her hand out to grasp Dream’s.
“So—”
“Dream!”
The cottage is quiet, too quiet, and Y/n walks into the small kitchen, hoping to bake a cake to cure her boredom. But, Wilbur sits at the round dining table, his beanie and a sewing needle in his hands.
“Wil, I wanted to talk to you,” Y/n mumbles, pulling out a chair. Wilbur doesn’t meet her eye as she does so, continuing to patch up his beanie that got ripped on a tree last week.
“Why are you against harmony with humans?”
Wilbur sighs softly. He places the beanie on the table and turns to face Y/n. “Y/n, when I was young, I lived amongst the humans in a town not far from here. We tried as hard as we could to mix in and not draw attention to ourselves.”
The girl listens intently, both curious and scared for his answer. She can tell the story makes him anxious so she reaches for his hand that lays on the wooden table. “Go on, Wil. I’m here.”
Wilbur nods, his eyes already full of tears as he continues.
“However, one day, my family decided to move to a more secluded area within the town, so my father could teach me more about magic without the risk of being caught. When we entered our new cottage in the forest, we were ambushed and they killed my entire family, leaving me, the only child, alone. I was left there, with my parents' bodies for weeks. I was made to fend for myself until I found Niki in a cave several years later. I was only 7, Y/n.”
Tears cascade down both of their cheeks. Wilbur takes in a shaky breath before he collapses onto the table out of grief. Y/n immediately leaps into action, wrapping her arms around the older man and letting him use her for support. His broken sobs and heart-wrenching cries stab Y/n all over, and she immediately regrets asking him about it.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Wilbur,” She didn’t push anymore, and that was all Wilbur needed.
#life was a willow fic#lwaw#dream x reader#dream imagine#dream imagines#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken imagines#mcyt x reader#mcyt imagine#mcyt imagines#dream smp x reader#dream smp imagines#dream smp imagine#dream x fem!reader#dream x female reader#dreamwastaken
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