"You're a real force to be reckoned with, and I have so much respect for how you handle yourself. But for some reason... I'm the exception."
Dream x Reader/Original Character
~.~.~.~.~
Dream is only twenty one when he becomes king of the realm. Alex...
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The four of us followed the monarch elect downtown from the castle, towards a club that none of us had been to in several years. I glanced at my best friend curiously, wondering what had prompted him to go to the CookShed after so many years. This place was the scene of everything I knew he wished to forget, and his decision had taken all of us by surprise. We knew too, however, that there had never been a day when Dream did not know exactly what he was doing, and we trusted him implicitly. If he wanted to go to the CookShed, then we'd be going to the damn CookShed.
The eyes of everyone in the club were upon us as we entered. They knew, as well as we did, why Dream avoided this place, but no one was prepared to confront him on anything. No one, except for George.
"Dream?" He asked, quietly. "What are you looking for?"
Dream glanced at his friend, his green eyes glittering with determination in the half darkness of the club's interior, and it occurred to me that he had been waiting for the question to come.
"Tommy," he responded, without missing a beat. "I want to discuss fight club with him."
"Wilbur's here," said Sapnap, with a warning tone to his voice.
"I know," Dream nodded. "He doesn't concern me."
I turned to look in the direction that Sapnap had indicated, and sure enough, Wilbur Soot was watching us carefully. The tall brunet was close with Tommy, and I knew that Dream was aware of this fact. I doubted he would sit by and watch as they spoke with one another. Wilbur's dark eyes met mine, and after staring him down for a second, I turned away. I did not know him well, or at all, really, but despite the fact that Dream insisted he had good reason to dislike him, I made a habit of reserving judgement until I was in a position to make one based on my own experience. It was a habit that came back to bite me more often than not, but I had seen the kind of chaos that unjust judgement could cause, and it was something I never wanted to be found guilty of.
Tommy had now seen us too, and he stepped down from the bar where he had been chatting with Tubbo, coming face to face with Clay.
"Dream!" He beamed at him, and I shook my head in amusement.
"Tommy," Dream nodded to him.
Tommy was the most chaotic and hyperactive person of my acquaintance. Many regarded him as being insane, and to be honest, I wasn't sure it was far from the truth. Tommy was the founding member of the fight club, and if I had to guess, I'd have said that Dream was in a fighting mood. As much as he said that mention of Imane did not affect him, it was obvious that it did, and as I turned to glance at George, his brown eyes met my blue-green ones knowingly.
"I've got a proposition for you," Dream continued. "One that involves fight club. Are we free to speak here?"
"Ohhh, dunno about that one, chief," Tommy raised an eyebrow. "You know the first rule of fight club?"
