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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

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To give without knowing (15/?)

word count: ~2k

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“I love you.”

The words had barely left Geralt’s lips when a creaking snapped him out of the moment. His eyes darted to the door and his grip on Jaskier tightened protectively.

When he saw who had pushed the door open, the tension in his body left him for just a second, before it came back in full force.

It was Essi. Of course it would be her. She remained quiet as she took in the sight of Geralt holding Jaskier close and he prayed to all the gods he had never believed in that Essi hadn’t heard or guessed the words he had whispered in Jaskier’s ear.

Whether she had or not, she didn’t show any sign of surprise at the sight they made. The only sign she gave that she had any kind of opinion about this, was a sly smirk that quirked her lips.

Geralt’s brows furrowed. Why would Essi smile like that at having someone else hold Jaskier in the way she should be held by him?

He searched her face and found the obvious answer; a crease of worry between her brows and a nervous twitch in her jaw.

Of course.

Shame washed over Geralt. While he had been allowed to hold Jaskier, to joke with him and see him smile again, Essi had been out there somewhere, not knowing anything about Jaskier’s state.

“He’s alright,” Geralt whispered, selfishly hoping it would be enough to make her go away again. “He’s not hurt too badly. Just exhausted.”

He didn’t mean to brush his hand through Jaskier’s hair. It was a motion that came far too naturally to him and he only noticed he was doing it when it was already too late. He froze, but Essi didn’t comment on it.

“Can I come in?” she asked quietly and Geralt nodded, despite the growing unease in his guts.

As Essi came closer, Geralt forced himself to loosen his hold on Jaskier, but it was impossible. Even if his muscles had cooperated, Jaskier didn’t. With every miniscule attempt at pulling away, Jaskier only snuggled closer with light noises of protest.

Geralt sighed and relented. Carefully, so as not to wake Jaskier, Essi sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes roaming over Jaskier’s face and lingering on the way he clung to Geralt.

“Thank you,” she said finally, her words holding a weight to them that nearly made Geralt squirm.

“Don’t thank me,” he replied gruffly and more out of a defensive instinct than actual concern, he added, “And don’t you dare offer me payment for this. I didn’t do it for thanks or coin.”

Essi tilted her head to the side and for a moment she looked strangely similar to Jaskier. “I know. You didn’t save him as a witcher.”

“That’s what I am.” His frown deepened, though not out of irritation. He didn’t know what to make off Essi and her words. From most people they would have sounded like an implication that being a witcher was inherently bad, that no witcher would save someone without demanding coin, but the way she said it spoke of something more. It felt like she was mirroring the sentiments Jaskier had tried so hard to make others understand. “I can’t do anything other than as a witcher.”

“You did it as a friend,” she fired back immediately, but there was no provocation or accusation in her tone. Perhaps it was even a little grateful. She gave him a meaningful look. “Maybe you are something more than that too.”

Geralt’s chest grew tight. “I’m not-“ Even now, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to deny it. Not after he had just said out loud what he felt for Jaskier. So instead, he closed off. “I won’t stand in your way, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

For a brief second, Essi looked taken aback, before her eyes widened in realisation and she let out a startled laugh. “Oh, I assure you there is nothing you could come between.” She looked back at Jaskier and her eyes softened. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that he can’t wait to go back out there with you.”

“He wanted to come here.”

Essi shrugged. “And now he wants to leave. He never stays for long. Last time he visited me, he left after a day, saying that the coast was boring.”

Geralt hesitated. That didn’t make any sense. What Essi was saying didn’t fit the giddy excitement and eagerness Jaskier had exhibited when he had led Geralt to the coast.

“But he – He looked so happy when he showed me all those beautiful places. He seemed to really love it here.” At least until his happiness had turned into bitter misery.

“I guess something’s different this time around.” Essi heaved an exasperated yet fond smile. “Maybe it’s not the coast he likes so much.”

The way she said it made it seem as if she was talking about something truly obvious, but Geralt couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. So he just gave a non-committal grunt that Essi countered with a look that clearly stated that she thought him an idiot.

“I mean it,” she said, putting more emphasis on her words. “When was the last time you saw Jaskier stay with someone for longer than a week?”

Geralt's throat went dry. There had been the Countess. And then last year Jaskier had talked about a blacksmith he had been seeing for a while. But Jaskier always left them eventually.

Geralt’ stomach twisted into a knot.

"He leaves behind a lot of broken hearts." Geralt said instead of giving an actual answer. Because there was one person Jaskier had stayed with for longer than a couple of days. He had stayed with Geralt for years and it would hurt so much more when Jaskier decided he'd had enough. Geralt would do well to remember that no heart was left unbroken when Jaskier found a new one to latch onto. Not that Jaskier had ever considered having Geralt's heart in the first place.

"He does." Essi gave him an unreadable look. "But we both know his own heart is the one that gets broken most often."

Geralt lowered his eyes to look at Jaskier's face again. The stress of the past day was fully gone and a content smile was in the place of the miserable expression of heartache that Geralt’s couldn’t make himself forget.

"I heard you two talking," he admitted quietly. "His heart is broken right now, isn't it?"

Essi stiffened, but after a moment of hesitation she softened again.

"I don't think so." She ran a hand over Jaskier's back, but somehow it didn't look like a lover's touch. It was over too quickly and felt more pitying than adoring. "I think he's afraid of getting his heart broken."

"Then don't break it." A witcher shouldn't plead. Not for a bard's heart. Then again, a witcher shouldn't give his own heart away to a bard either.

A line carved itself onto Essi's forehead.

"Geralt," her voice was tentative, almost as if talking to a child or scared animal. "I am not the one who has his heart. I don't want it either. I love Jaskier and he loves me, but not like that. It had never been like that." Essi let out a long sigh.

“Then who-“

“Don’t. I can’t tell you. It’s not my place.” She started fidgeting with the blanket, not dissimilar to how Jaskier acted when he was nervous. “Just... be gentle with him. I like you, Geralt, but I told you before; If you hurt him, I will make you regret it."

As if Geralt didn't already regret every grunt or whimper of pain that had left Jaskier's lips because of Geralt.

"And I told you I will do everything I can to keep him from being hurt. When- if Jaskier's heart gets broken again, I will be there for him."

Essi shook her head in exasperation, but her lips were turned upwards.

"You should tell him that more often. Do you know that he told me about you all the time when we met? And when he left again he always said that he had to hurry or you wouldn't want to take him back anymore if he made you wait."

A sour taste filled Geralt's mouth. "He left because of me? But he - he knows I wouldn't abandon him. You said it yourself, he's the one that always leaves. He's the one that doesn't stay with people."

Essi's brows rose in mocking disbelief. "And you are? For years Jaskier was under the impression that you wanted to get rid of him."

"I-" Geralt broke off. It had been true once, hadn't it? He had wanted to push Jaskier away. Better to scare him off quickly before he got attached and got left by Jaskier then. But even back then Geralt hadn't put much heart into it, had he? He hadn’t been able to rid himself of the little spark of lightness Jaskier provided.

"I'm a witcher," he said roughly. "If I wanted him gone I would have been able to get him to leave." Essi hummed softly and nodded to Jaskier's sleeping form. "And I suppose if you didn't want him to cling to you like this, you would be able to get out of his hold easily as well. "

Geralt's jaw worked and he pressed his lips together tightly before saying, "He needs his rest. I can't wake him."

Jaskier chose that moment to let out a small distressed grunt and Geralt all but forgot that Essi was in the room with them. He caressed Jaskier's back and hair until he relaxed again and mumbled something unintelligible against Geralt's neck.

When Geralt looked back up, expecting judgment, Essi's eyes were warm.

"Of course you can't." She sounded strangely relieved. "I'm glad he has you. To keep him safe. And his heart."

Something struck Geralt and he looked at Essi more closely. She wasn't tense, didn't even seem overly worried. In fact, she hadn't in all the time she had been in here. Not since she had told Geralt back at the cliffs to take care of Jaskier. The small crease between her brows had disappeared almost as soon as she had seen him in Geralt’s arms.

"Why are you here?" he narrowed his eyes. "You barely asked about Jaskier's health."

Essi rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You should have seen yourself back at the cliffs. You literally jumped into the ocean to save him. If you had any doubt that he was alright, you wouldn't be as calm as you are now. It's painfully obvious that there is no safer place for Jaskier than with you."

There was so much wrong with that statement but just this once he let himself believe her. He didn't have time to dispute her anyway, for Essi kept talking.

“I also knew that Jaskier would be safe for a different reason.” Her fidgeting got worse. “I found something.” She turned to pull something from a bag Geralt had been too distracted to pay attention to. “I believe it is yours?”

Geralt froze and a spike of fear pierced Geralt’s chest. There in Essi’s hand was the whale he had carved and dropped. She held it as if it was a treasure, yet her tone was nearly casual. As if her knowing that Geralt had carved this wasn’t a horrible thing. If she told Jaskier – she couldn’t tell Jaskier!

“It’s not mine.” Geralt tried to keep his voice neutral. If Jaskier had been awake, he would have no doubt heard the slight tremor in it, but Essi only furrowed her brows.

“I saw you holding it, right before Jaskier fell. It’s alright,” she said and put her free hand on Geralt’s arm comfortingly. “I know you said you don’t, but you are allowed to have nice things.” A quiet laugh tumbled from her lips. “If Jaskier was awake, he’d tell you that too.”

“Don’t tell him.” Geralt’s eyes were wider than they should be and he was sure even Essi couldn’t miss the way his shoulders were hunched forward, making Geralt seem smaller. “He can’t know. It’s…those figures bring him so much joy. I can’t let him think I lied to him. This doesn’t belong to me.”

Essi opened her mouth and closed it again in confusion. When she spoke again, her smile was back, tentative but getting wider with every passing second.

“You wanted him to find it?”

Geralt mouth was too dry to speak, but Essi seemed to take that as confirmation, for her eyes lit up.

“You did! It makes so much sense!” In her excitement, her voice got louder and Geralt had to shoot her a warning glare to not wake Jaskier. “You did it before didn’t you? Of course you’d be able to find more of the carvings, with your heightened senses! You always pretend that you didn’t so that Jaskier can find them and think he was the first one to do so. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She lifted her chin triumphantly. Geralt swallowed. Inside him, relief battled with guilt. This was the perfect excuse. It was a lie. But what was one more lie when he had kept up a ruse for Jaskier’s sake for months now?

“Just don’t tell him you saw me holding the whale,” Geralt said, neither denying nor admitting anything. “Pretend I never found it.”

Essi searched his face for a long time. Then finally, she gave a small nod.

“Fine. I won’t tell him. But maybe you should.” Essi gave his arm a little squeeze. “And just so you know, I’m glad you found this one.” She lifted the whale for emphasis. “If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t found it, you wouldn’t have been there to save Jaskier.”

“That was a coincidence.”

“Perhaps.” Essi shrugged, but her voice made it clear that she was nowhere close to being convinced. “Or perhaps it was the fae guiding you to be exactly where you needed to be.”

One moment, Geralt was staring at her in wonder and disbelief. How could this be so easy for her? How could she just accept that the fae led Geralt there and provided him with guidance to save Jaskier? Then again, that was exactly what Jaskier thought – what Geralt wanted him to think.

The next moment, Essi moved and pressed the familiar weight of the whale into Geralt’s hands.

“You found it.” She let go of the figure. “Whether you believe in the fae’s blessing or not, it is yours to keep or give to Jaskier.”

Geralt swallowed, risking another glance at Jaskier sighing softly against him and then back at Essi. Essi, who had so much trust in Geralt to leave Jaskier in his care. Essi, who wanted to protect Jaskier’s heart. Essi, who had never owned a fae-blessing herself.

The thought of her holding one of his carvings had been uncomfortable, almost close to distressing to Geralt before. But now that she pulled away again, hands empty, something tugged at Geralt’s heart.

Essi, too, was a protector of Jaskier’s, a part of his life.

Without thinking about it, Geralt pressed the figure back into Essi’s hand. “I don’t need it,” he repeated what he had said and thought so often before. Before Essi could protest, Geralt’s expression softened. He might not allow himself to say such a thing to Jaskier, but Essi already seemed to know. “I already have something more beautiful.”

Something warm spread over Essi’s face. “Allow yourself to keep him.”

It was an impossible wish, but as Essi quietly left the room again and Geralt was once again alone with Jaskier, he thought that maybe, he could let himself dream just a little longer.

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#wood carving #geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt #witcher #witcher fic #fanfic #my writing #i really don't like this chapter but oh well #at least it exists

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omsrandom · 3 years

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Love is A G̴̢̈́̿L̴̥̋͑Ȋ̶̥͈̥͋̉T̶̢͎̀ͅČ̸̪͍̏H̷̰͚̳͒ Chapter Preview: Speed Metal

for the lovely @insanely-creative-things! Happy birthday! The alternative title for this chapter is: Local Wine Uncle Takes Child to Illegal Street Races

“You know Soundwave is going to offline you if I get caught,” she hummed as she sat in the driver seat. Knockout’s laugh echoed through the speakers.

“If you get caught,” he reminded her. “You can’t stay in the ship all the time Shockie. Even hatchlings got to leave their nest more than you.”

She didn’t have a good rebuttal against that, instead just sitting back as they pulled up into the line. Almost immediately, the person to the right rolled down his window and keyed KO’s arm, making her cringe. “Just don’t kill him while I’m here,” she just asked. “I still have nightmares from when I broke my arm.”

The mech just let out a growl, and they shot forward, leaving her to sigh in resignation.

He was quick, she wouldn’t argue against that, but if she wasn’t bracing herself for every turn, no doubt she’d be slamming her head against the window at every bump. As they came up to the black car, she just turned her head away, hearing the tires squealing and the metal-on-metal crash as the human was sent soaring off a cliff edge.

“He’ll live,” the mech murmured, and she felt tension bleed out of her, replaced with a giddy sense of excitement.

“Then let’s finish this!”

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

The next day, she couldn’t stop her fifth yawn as she walked down the sidewalk towards where Bulkhead was supposed to pick her up. It would be her first time actually seeing where the physical Autobot Base entrance was going to be, and she messed it up by going out last night.

“You ok?” she jumped as Jack pulled up beside her.

“I didn’t think humans could yawn that much,” Arcee agreed quietly, making her snort.

“Just wait until finals come up,” she murmured. “If they’re anything like what I did online, all of us are going to be pulling 24 hours or more.”

“Ratchet won’t like that,” Jack agreed. “You did online classes? I thought you were homeschooled.”

“Uh, yeah, Up until, maybe, like, I was 12 or 13? Then S-my dad enrolled me online because his job was getting more and more difficult to do at home.” Jack just nodded, not looking too deeply into her answer. “Anyways, gotta go to, uh, Bulkhead? I think?”

“Good luck with Miko,” he chuckled, letting Arcee drive off. She’d deny it to this day that her little huff of laugh was anything more than slight fondness.

Things were… tense, later on. Miko had been blasting loud music through her phone, which helped keep Ashi awake, but… the Autobot base entrance wasn’t what she was expecting. It was a literal mesa base. No wonder they could never find it.

But that wasn’t a real concern. Jack was late.

Arcee made sure he was never late, so why, after two hours of being out of school, was he not at the base yet?

He wasn’t there when she went to the Nemesis portal spot, but no, she wasn’t concerned, ok?

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

Ashie yelped as someone picked her up, holding her in their hands. “We’re going out again Shockie,”

The redhead groaned at Knockout’s words. “I need to get this report done,” she argued. “While I still remember where the base entrance is!”

“One little race isn’t going to hurt hatchling,” Breakdown called from the next room, where he had a buff kit ready to go. “We both know Commanders Starscream and Soundwave will be the first ones to forgive you if a report is late.”

“But it’s still the principle!” she tried to argue.

“Ah ah! We’re going out, and nothing you can do or say will stop it,” the red mech’s words sounded as final as a nail in a coffin (whatever that meant) so she put on a long-suffering face and looked at Breakdown.

“How do you deal with him?”

“I don’t.”

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

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Jack asked quietly as they walked down the steps, and she just grimaced.

“Yeah, my brothers are just assholes,” she shrugged. “They like playing pranks on each other and shooting nerf guns in the middle of the night, and Dad put me between their rooms to try and stop it. I just got caught in the crossfire.”

“Ouch,” Jack hissed. “You should tell them to knock it off, at least until Mr. Gregory’s test is done.”

“I’ll think about it,” she hummed.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you!” Both her and Jack turned around to see Sierra exiting the school. “The race, how great was that? I was like, yeah, go Jack!”

“Race?” she murmured, and Jack’s eyes widened.

“You can’t tell O-,” he cut himself off.

“Jack totally blew Vince out of the water with that sweet bike of his,” Sierra told her. “He promised to take me on a ride.” Something made her blood both boil and freeze.

“Oh?” she just choked out instead, hating how small it sounded.

“Before we met!” he tacked on. “Sierra, this is Ashi, my girlfriend. And Ashi, the race was no big deal,”

“You got that right,” Vince snarled, pushing between her and Jack, forcing her to take some steps back. “If you think you can run with the big boys: the circuit, tonight, 11 pm.” She glanced at Sierra, whose eyes were flickering between her and Jack before the teen’s voice caught her off guard.

“Deal,”

Oh, Primus, she was going to kill him.

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

She didn’t go to the Autobot base that day, instead going directly to the ship, to the medbay where Knockout was checking Megatron’s vitals.

“Shockie, what a wonderful surprise! Anything you need dear?”

“There’s a race circuit going on tonight at 11,” she said, getting straight to the point. “I need to be there.”

Knockout frowned. “Even I wasn’t going to have you go out three days in a row. What’s so special about this?”

She swallowed, knowing full well what was about to happen. He was the only one aside from Breakdown and Megatron who knew what the power of the words she was about to say was. “My soulmate will be racing in it.”

Knockout froze before turning to her in an accusing way. “You were supposed to keep us updated if you met them,” he reminded her quietly, too quietly for the mech. “Why didn’t you?” She shifted her gaze to her feet and murmured her response. “That was too quiet for my audio receptors to pick up. Louder now.”

“He’s…” her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it seemed to echo through the room. “He knows the Autobots… he’s my key to getting behind their defenses.”

“Slag,” Knockout said, and she felt it. “Slaggit, hatchling, you can’t have anything normal happen to you, can you?”

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

When Knockout pulled up to the line, she was expecting Jack and Arcee, but definitely not Bumblebee, and the red mech seemed to feel the same as her if the quiet curses seem to say anything about it. “I’ll be quick,” she promised, exiting the passenger door and quickly weaving her way through the crowd to Jack and Bee. “Jack,”

“Ashi!” he snapped around, staring at her in surprise. “What’re you doing here?”

“One of my Uncles is racing tonight,” she stressed, shifting her gaze to Bee rapidly, hoping he’d get the hint. Judging by how pale he turned, he seemed to get it. “I just came to wish you luck, and there won’t be any hard feelings, right? Uncle K can be a bit mean in these things.”

“No hard feelings,” he echoed back. “You’ll be safe?”

“Only if you are,” she sighed, quickly going back to Knockout. “He knows you’re here, but not you exactly.”

“He knows you’re a Decepticon?” Ok, so maybe Knockout was still a bit pissed off at her.

“He accidentally got warped into our ship, and our first words were said while I was in uniform. And then we met out of uniform and it only took a day for him to realize who I was.” she still felt bitter over it, but just shrugged instead.

Somehow, Vince ended up between Knockout and Bumblebee, and she was very grateful for the blackout windows and the redhead teen tried to glance her way. “Creep,” she grumbled, bracing as the countdown started.

In a second, they were off, Bee and Vince instantly duking it out for first and second while Knockout stayed back in a casual third. “He’s not really trying to struggle, is he?” Knockout mused aloud, making her laugh. She did notice he was driving a bit more carefully, and she was thankful for that, even if he was watching Bee’s movements to do it.

Then, Knockout gained on Vince and spun him out, making her laugh. He continued driving forward, obviously trying to get first in what would possibly be the only friendly Autobot-Decepticon interaction for a while, when the yellow bot began to swerve, signaling that he had realized who was behind him. Knockout moved to follow him, and she realized in abject horror he had pulled his ion guns out.

“Knockout,” she warned.

“Relax. I don’t plan on hitting them. Fear is a good motivator.” he fired, and true to his word, every shot missed, and the two Autobot allied quickly left the drainage ditch in favor of an actual road with Knockout still following. Bee was suddenly trailing something, and it took her a moment to realize what it was.

“Oil!” She yelled, but she was a moment too late as Knockout spun, and by the time she was finished, she was feeling sick and seeing stars.

“Primus, Sparkie, you ok?”

She let out a wheeze and held a thumbs up. “Fucking shoot him for me,” she choked out. “I’m going to throw up in the ditch.” Immediately, the door opened, and she launched herself out of his alt-mode and onto the road.

As he started to drive away, she stumbled to the side, where she hung over the rails and…

Oh god, were they really hiding under a bridge?

Jack at least had the decency to look ashamed as he caught sight of her, but it quickly turned to disgust as Vince pulled up and got out of his car. Knockout screeched to a halt, backing up to her.

“It’s the school bully,” she murmured. “He’s an ass and a creep who can’t take no.” Knockout silently transformed, and her phone vibrated from her jean pocket. Taking a glance at it, she read:

Want me to teach a skeeze a lesson then?

Maybe her grin was a bit too feral as she nodded. The mech immediately reached down, pulling him up and tossing him into the air as he transformed. The teen was bound to the passenger seat, and without a thought, she hopped into the driver's seat with a grin. “Let’s go, Uncle K,” she giggled, and Vince’s eyes went wide as he realized who she was. He was knocked out not even a second later, so it was ok.

“What’re we gonna do with him?” she asked. “He’s only a year older than me, so he’s still technically a kid, not an adult.”

“So major body harm is out of the question then.” Knockout mused. “Psychological isn’t though. You said he couldn’t take no for an answer?”

“He’s made me his main target, but there’s probably a dozen other girls he’s tried this with before and it worked, otherwise he wouldn’t be so insistent.”

She finished up the final note just in time to hear cars circling the building, making her sigh. “Fun’s over,” she said.

“At least we got some enjoyment tonight,” Knockout sounded just as disappointed as she felt. She finished folding the papers up as much as she could while they were on the move, and as she finished stuffing them in Vince’s pockets, the sound of a semi-horn made her freeze.

Oh, Primus, they called in Prime??

The large mech immediately slammed them off the road, and it was only Knockout’s quick thinking of tying her down with straps that she hadn’t immediately been ejected as he slammed into a ditch. It left her in a daze, and all she could really do was just lay there, slumped over as Knockout frantically tried to get his back wheels on the ground.

“Stay online Shockie!” he called, thunderous footsteps getting closer and closer. As Prime easily picked Knockout up, she realized how much deep slag she was about to get into when she got back to Nemesis.

The passenger door was ripped off, and Vince was removed, and she could all but feel the disgust from Optimus as he grabbed her as well, throwing Knockout to the side. The mech transformed an angry, desperate look on his facial plates.

“Give her back,” he snarled, but he faltered as Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead all pulled up. “Slag you! Slag you all to the pits!” He drove off, leaving her alone, injured, and surrounded by enemies.

“Are you alright, Miss Lawrence?” Prime asked.

“Think you broke my ribs,” she murmured. “When you slammed into him.” he might’ve had a mask over his face, but just through his optics alone, she could tell how much that sentence hurt, and she planned on weaponizing it.

“Let us get you to Ratchet then,” he murmured. Bumblebee rolled a window down, showing Jack with a pained face of his own. A morbid part of her wondered if he had felt her pain whenever one of the ‘bots had shot her or not.

“This was my fault,” Jack’s voice was distant as if he was getting farther away.

“We must get these two to medical immediately,” Prime cut him off, and she noted in a sense of vindication that he was jostling Vince around while keeping her perfectly still. “Explanations can come later.”

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

She hadn’t even realized she had passed out until she woke up, once again in the comically large medical berth, IVs carefully hooked up to her. A glance at the clock told her that calling Soundwave would definitely result in death, so she just carefully turned it off and slipped it under her pillow. He knew how to remotely turn it off if he needed to talk to her.

“Should you not be contacting your parental unit?” Ratchet asked, making her grimace.

“I should’ve done it the second I realized something was off with the race,” she admitted. “Calling this late in the morning would just result in him getting angry at me.”

“Is he not usually angry?” Ratchet’s voice held confusion, so she just tilted her head. “The bruises and cuts across your body indicate you were attacked.”

“Are you trying to ask if my father…?” she trailed off, just staring blankly at him. “I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed when I’m in the base, Ratchet, but I trip over everything. I fell down the stairs a few days ago here and you didn’t react, so I just thought you knew not to get too worked up.”

“I-” the mech sputtered, turning away. “Your ribs are wrapped, no running or exercise for the next two months. Optimus would like to talk to you before you leave about what happened.”

“I got kidnapped, not much more I can say,” she shrugged.

The look he gave her told her she hadn’t been convincing enough.

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #TFP #Ashi Lawrence (OC)#Ashi #Jack Darby #Arcee #Bumblebee #Knockout #Breakdown #Optimus Prime #tw: mention of possible child abuse #but not really because the 'cons would happily die for Ashi #You cannot change my mind the Knockout would be THE WINE UNCLE #LIKE HE'S THE SAME COLOR AS WINE TOO #Love is a Glitch Commission #Love is a Glitch (Fic)

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wei-gege-oldaccount · 4 years

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lwj and wwx only have 2 settings when looking at each other, they are either stupidly in love or stupidly horny. have you seen this post? kenny2234*tumblr*com/post/629515661032521728

Hi Anon!

Firstly, yes I have seen your post, and secondly you never asked for this and I am sorry for that.

I could write about their eye contact alone until the end of time, or at least until I succumb to the laws of entropy. I could just idly agree with you, yes, aha it’s love or lust and move on. But. I can’t. I can’t. I mean, this is a story where so much is told by the things that are not said. And there is a lot that can’t be said, either because it’s a character trait or because of censorship issues. I will try and keep this concise, and to do that I’m just focusing on mutual eye contact, and from LWJ’s perspective. Thinking to the BTS where Wang Yibo talks about how LWJ mostly only expresses himself through the eyes.

TL;DR: I disagree, there’s really more to it than that.

LWJ actively avoids eye contact with WWX until around episodes 6-7. He’s a Lan. He can NOT condone or make friends with this unruly, loud, arrogant, charismatic, irritatingly beautiful man. He has bad ideas about the uses of resentful energy. No matter how intelligent, observant and artistic he is. No matter now much of a prodigy and a skilled fighter he is. No matter how hot he is. No matter what his brother says.

He likes him but he doesn’t like that he likes him.

So LWJ actively avoids direct eye contact with WWX unless it’s a glare filled with the fire of a thousand suns. You know, as a warning.

This is until episode 6/7. By this point, they have fought water ghouls at Biling Lake. Drunkenly shared personal mom info. Used the Lan forehead ribbon inappropriately in the Cold Pond Cave, and had Physical Contact when escaping. WWX has called LWJ his Zhiji already. It’s only when WWX keeps his promise not to talk about the Yin Iron and scares NHS away when he tries to extract gossip that LWJ decides to reappraise him. Only then do we get some eye contact which isn’t laced with contempt or uneasiness (which of course JC is there to witness).

They go off and do the lantern ceremony. LWJ does a smile at WWX’s bunny art. That devastating look he gives WWX as he makes his vow. You can almost lipread LWJ’s brain thinking “marry me now”. LXC was right about him. Despite this, he tries to deal with the yin iron by himself because WWX is The Agent of Chaos after all. But, WWX is not going to let him bear this responsibility alone, because of course he wouldn’t.

Enter Battle Couple WangXian. They fight the fairy statue, multiple puppets, and the dire owl. Xue Yang happens. They meet famous duo SL & XXC and LWJ & JC totally fanboy over them, and it’s only then, some real Zhiji vibes hit LWJ, albeit with a bit of a sombre mood after WWX’s chat with XXC. My next fave moment of eye contact, I can literally feel LWJ’s stomach butterflies here after they watch SL and XXC leave together:

Whoa, is that us now? I mean, do I dare to even hope that that’s us?

LWJ decides to leave WWX in Qinghe under cover of darkness and asap. He has to get the yin iron back to Cloud Recesses with a low profile. So we don’t see them together again until the Wen Indoctrination Camp. They do a bunch of worrying and looking out for each other, and then we get the cave scene which has been giffed 4 million times already by others who have done a better job, but I haven’t so I slowed it right the fuck down. Forgive the bad colouring I’m trying not to take too much time over this. You’re right about this one anon.

Then lots of bad. I skipped these gifs because picture limit. In summary, LWJ is hurt and angry, lots of angy stares and sword pointing. How could WWX hurt himself by using these methods?! But then WWX promises he will never use demonic cultivation, and agrees to receiving help. LWJ can chill a bit. Night Hunt on Phoenix Mountain. I left this one out as it’s pretty self explanatory. “I used to think of you as my Zhiji”. “I still am”. Ugh but WWX knows he can’t unless he fully informs LWJ of his situation. It’s bittersweet. THE RAIN SCENE. This is not heart eyes or horniness anon it is pure PAIN.

Let’s skip to some good stuff. Yiling dinner date! LWJ can handle strict Lan sect punishments, hoards of puppets and fierce corpses but this situation? Not so much. He is so confused by this strange clingy child and the rabbling crowd and here comes his reason for being here in the first place knight in shining amour! (Ur right here anon, pure heart eyes).

Do I put a Nightless City gif here? Do I put the cliff scene here? It’s the most LWJ’s facial muscles move in the entire show and yet I can’t bring myself to gif it. It’s pure agony. Definitely not any longing romantic looks or horniness here.

So moving swiftly on, jumping to ep 2 for the epically long eye contact moment aka when WangXian are reunited. LWJ. does. not. take. his. eyes. off. WWX. until. he. hears. Zidian. crackle. OMG.

Anyway, after the Yin City arc and watching SL walking away with what remains of XXC’s spiritual cognition, LWJ is not holding back now. The amount of eye f***ing after this moment is frankly obscene. I’ll just leave some gifs of that.

I kind of ran out of steam but you get my point. I guess you can boil the other moments down to the fact they love each other? But I don’t know why anyone would want to simplify things like that. I know I’ve missed a bunch of stuff but this is long enough as it is! My opinion about this will probably change too as I’m still fairly new to the fandom. You just accidentally unlocked an Easter Egg with your comment, as it’s what I’m currently nerding out over haha. I’ll shut up now.

#忘羡 #魏无羡 #蓝忘机 #the untamed #chen qing ling #omg i lost this post in my 2500+ drafts when i saved it #i thought it had been lost in the tumblr abyss #as soon as i hit post i know i'll immediately change my mind about something #so sorry anon #*throws self in bin*#anon #ask #o #陈情令

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ikerevandotherthings · 3 years

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Does anyone else have like multiple ways that the suiters get ranked? like I love all of them for different reasons. I just have several lists I want to share that are prone to change because I am still going through every ones routes :).

Best friends?

Fenrir- We both have tons of energy, eat way too much, and would most definitely end up somewhere we shouldn’t be because we got bored, would not prevent me from cliff jumping or skydiving.

Edgar- Definitely helping sneak him candy, can and will help him mess with people, we both love animals, I overshare and he doesn't share so we cancel each other out.

Luka- I love to bake he loves to cook, IDK why but I feel like he watches serial killer documentaries but so do I, He’s a sweetie and I really want to be friends with him tbh.

Kyle- Would prevent me from doing stupid things for safety or whatever, Literally seems to be a male version of myself but less hyper, I want to be a vet and he’s a doctor so we got 2 ends of the medical fields covered,

Zero- Another sweetheart I want to be friends with, would also prevent me from dying, would go hiking and camping with me probably, I would chare my Reese’s with him and he would share his lollipops.

Please be my older brother?

Harr- He just seems to be the awkward older brother who wants to help you but doesn’t know how but you know he tries very hard and you love him for that.

Ray- He is BFF with Fenrir so you know he has a ton of energy and stupid ideas but he “controls” them better I guess, anyway would be a cool bro and I know it.

Blanc- He knows everything and you cant change my mind, I literally imagine him having all of Cradles gossip in the last 50ish years and I bet he would tell me for some carrot cake.

Edgar- Would give me unlimited candy, would help me sneak around places, would prolly help me make a cake at midnight, would be a good brother and you cant change my mind

Mousse- Definitely would eat shredded mozzarella with me at 2 am, People would find one of us sleeping where we shouldn't be and then trip on the other one, Very sleepy but would come hang out with me around cradle.

Marry me?

Sirius- Literally is husband material :)

Zero- He’s a sweetheart and I love him so so so much, cares and does let MC do her own thing but if worried will come along to make sure she is ok, I love anyone with candy tbh

Jonah- I like him a lot because he voices what he doesn’t like and what is wrong like yes PLEASE, pretty boi makes pretty husband, loyal and follows what he believes is right, LOTS OF LOVE TO SHARE

Kyle- Likes to hang out with friends (same), will let me do my own thing while he does his, might try to limit my sugar intake but its for my health, is blunt and by god do I need that

Luka- A sweetie, I love cheesy pickup lines and he would blush at them, He cooks I bake, Sleep schedule is nonexistent because we don’t need sleep :)

Rail me?

Sirius-Literally just marry me and rail me into next week for the rest of our lives, you cant convince me he doesn't know what he is doing, pretty please?, you need a break

Lancelot: Still unsure but I want him too, he knows what he is doing, prolly would do it on every piece of furniture in his room, you also need to take a break

Seth- Ok I didn’t like his route BUUUT he is hot and I want him to lock me in his room all day, KNOWS WHAT TO DO, will do it wherever he pleases which includes the kitchen and Armory.

Adult Oliver- He can get it and he knows it, works with little intricate objects all day so hands

Dum- I know absolutely nothing about you besides the tower thing and your flirty but I still want you.

Bickering buddies?

Both Adult and Child Oliver- I just want to get in a roasting battle because I think we could get this to go literally weeks, Please call me a child I will retaliate (unlike Alice), both of us are about to be upset.

Loki- I think he is funny and I would protect him with my life but I will end up arguing with him and we would end up poking fun at each other.

Dean- He just looks like we wouldn't get along too well like he failed my essay because I don't use commas and I messed up between ‘you’re’ and ‘your’ once, besides that I know nothing about him.

Seth- I can feel us arguing about smaller things like the proper way to fold towels and us poking fun at each other,

Lancelot- More of a “Go take care of yourself before I fight you”, will argue with him quite a bit.

Fight on the spot and kill us both?

Amon

Clemence Parents

Claudius Bright

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

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Could I please request paul lahote x reader where the reader really wants to go cliff diving and convinces paul to take her with the whole pack? Thank you💖 and no worries if not😊

"Pleaseee!" She whined, batting her eyelashes excessively in hopes of looking cute enough for Paul's resolve to dwindle and her own wishes would come true. He was always far too stubborn and incredibly resilient to her attempts that she was honestly wondering if he ever imprinted on her.

"No." But Paul just shrugged, not even looking her way because how could he ever resist her cute pout and puppy eyes and the excessive blinking she believes makes her irresistible. Maybe her thinking it makes it irresistible to him, but if he didn't imprint on her he would think she's having a stroke.

"Pretty please?" Her voice is coated in sugar and spice and everything nice and her proximity is only driving him crazier because her scent is intoxicating and inviting and it's in these moments Paul is reminded why he hates the imprinting process because he'd love her either way, but at least he wouldn't fall into every thirst trap she sets up for him. And he tries really hard for her wins to go unnoticed because he can't have her knowing just how whipped he is when it comes to her.

"I love you, but you fall walking on a flat surface, I'm not about to let you jump of a cliff and kill yourself in the process." Justifying his reasons, Paul turned away from her and stepped away because he had to stay sane before she pushed him over the edge and it's never his temper that gets in the way, but the way she makes him crave her like she's a drug he can't rehabilitate from.

"But you'll be there and I'll hold onto you all the way down and it would be so romantic and fun, pleeeaaseee?!" She continued and while he knew better a moment ago, Paul's inner wolf had spoken before he could stop his mouth from moving.

"Sure." Before he knew it, Y/N jumped on his back in glee, giggling like a child given its favorite sugary snack and while he wanted to get angry about it, he smiled instead.

"But you better hold onto me tight! Now get in the truck!" And while they drove, her excited babbling made him smile the whole time. Her hand brushing his thigh, slapping his arm because that's what she does when she can't control how happy she is, playing with the hair at the back of his neck, it was payment enough for him already.

As the guys lined up and took their turns, Paul noticed Y/N didn't stop bouncing the entire time. He hoped she'd take a look down and be frightened into giving up, but she seemed elated by the thought and he seemed to be the frightened one.

"You scared?" He asked as he lifted her up and tapped her thigh, indicating she should wrap her legs around his waist and her arms followed as they tightened around his neck.

"Never when you're with me." There was no doubt, no fear, no trace of giving up and it should have made him worried but all he saw is the love of his life and her unparalleled happiness and unconditional trust in him, something he never knew he would earn in life because no one ever believed in him like she did.

Touching foreheads, brushing noses tenderly, Paul's smile couldn't be brighter as he approached the edge and his arms coil around her like a protective cage. And she was right after all, this is undeniably romantic.

"You jump, I jump...literally!" She teased and with a playful roll of his eyes, the two were no longer on solid ground.

#paul lahote fluff #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #twilight #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #paul lahote fanfic

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acadiahqs · 3 years

Photo

Things were finally beginning to settle down. Emery felt normal again—or whatever the equivalent to normal in a magic school was. He was much more tired and anxious and jittery these days, sure, but that was the norm for him.

Leaving campus for the evening, he texted his guardian to let him know he was on his way home when there was a particular breeze that blew through him, making his hair fly in his face. It was as if…the wind was pushing him to a certain direction. Tucking back his hair behind his ears, the magician stared at the direction that the wind was blowing. He usually took the same way home every day, but clearly there was something telling him to take a new way.

He wanted to ignore it, knowing how this ended in, like, every horror movie ever. But his legs moved faster than his brain, and before he knew it, he was walking in the direction the wind wanted him to go.

There was the edge of campus this way, tall and thick bushes on the borderline to separate from the forest that was usually avoided by most people. A dead end.

Figures, Emery thought to himself. If this were a horror movie, the killer would’ve jumped out and got him with an axe by now.

Instead, there was a bunny rabbit that seemingly popped out of thin air, landing right at Emery’s feet. Startled, the magician stumbled back, clutching the strap of his book bag. “What the fu—”

“Magic in danger,” the bunny said in a low and raspy voice. “Follow me.”

Emery stared wide-eyed at the animal for a moment before glancing around wildly. “Holy shit,” he breathed out. “Did you just…talk?”

“Magic in danger. Follow me,” the bunny repeated before it started hopping towards the thick bushes.

“H-hey, wait—!” Emery ran after it, the bunny’s words barely processing in his head. Magic in danger? What the hell did that mean?

The little animal hopped right through the bushes, making Emery groan. This thing was surely leading him to his actual death, right into the forest where no one would be able to find his body for days, weeks.

Still, he didn’t turn around. Taking in a deep breath, he pushed his way through, nearly tripping over branches before making it to the other side.

Except, it wasn’t the forest. At least, not the same forest in Lennox. No, this one was different somehow. There was a brightness to it, as if it was still daylight. The trees were taller, bigger. The birds were chirping away. Some deer nearby got spooked by his presence and pranced away.

The place was whimsical. It was…magical. More magical than Acadia could hold.

“Where…am I?” the professor wondered out loud, taking in every detail, every sound and smell. This couldn’t be real. He had to be dreaming, right? He must’ve fallen asleep on his desk. Yeah, that made sense.

“Follow me,” the bunny’s voice cut through his thoughts.

If this was a dream, Emery wanted to know this bunny’s deal before waking up. Like why did it sound like it smoked ten packs a day? Hitching up his book bag, he followed the little thing through the woods and out into a clearing at the edge of a cliff. Looking into the distance, his throat suddenly went dry.

There stood a castle. A castle so grand that it looked like it jumped straight from every fantasy book Emery has ever read. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes a couple times to make sure that the castle was really there. If he really was dreaming, it definitely felt real.

The bunny rabbit continued to lead him down a trail to the bottom of the cliff where a pathway started and right up to these stone gates. Two guards stood on either side, tall and slender and almost impossibly beautiful. Maybe he could get actual answers from them.

“Uh, hi?” Emery’s voice was quiet, small. He cleared his throat to try to get their attention. “Could you, uh, tell me where I am? Or what this…is? Has this always been here?”

Rather than saying anything, the guards took one look at the bunny right besides Em before they opened the gates. The magician let out a huff of breath before following the darn thing inside.

If he was impressed with the outside of the castle, the interior was something else. White and gold marble floors, stone walls with colorful tapestry hanging, tall windows to let the sun in to give the place some warmth. Emery was quite literally pinching himself, wondering if he was ever going to wake up again.

He let himself be led to a grand room with various flags hung from the ceiling, a shimmering carpet leading up to where a throne sat—and, god, it made Emery want to faint from the mere sight. The throne was nearly as tall as the ceiling, the white and gold seemingly glimmering from the sunlight.

“Where the hell am I and can I stay here forever?” Emery asked out loud, his jaw dropping to the floor as he took it all in. This was every nerd’s fantasy, after all.

“You’re in Valoria, Child of Earth,” an unexpected voice answered him, firm and almost thundering throughout the throne room.

It startled Emery, making him jump and let out a small embarrassing sound. Coming from the entryway opposite of him, a tall, inexplicably gorgeous woman made her way to the throne, as if she were gliding before taking her seat. She had long and shimmering blonde hair, a pointed golden crown on her head. She wore a sparkling white and flowy dress, perfectly tailored for her. She had a small smile on her face, like it was a practiced one to show her politeness, but it was clear that she had great power and could crush him at a moment’s notice.

“Val-Valoria? What is that? That sounds familiar, I…” Emery was wracking his brain for the answer. “Wait. Wait, I’ve read this book. I—it’s about this girl who finds a portal to a fantasy land, a-and this is…this is it. This is…”

Swallowing thickly, it was then that Em noticed her ears. They were pointed and slender, like an—

“You’re an elf,” he said out loud before realizing it. “An elven queen. You’re—you’re Rina Eilhorn, aren't you?”

The Queen’s smile actually became genuine, even if it was for a second. She gave a slow nod. “That’s right,” she said. “I suppose my messenger bunny showed up for the right Child of Earth.” At this, the rabbit hopped up the steps up to the throne, stopping at the Queen’s feet for her to pick him up. “At least now I wouldn’t have to explain the history of this land.”

Emery’s mind was running—and screaming and dancing. He was in a magical land that he’s only ever read about, and it was real. He wanted to cry.

“There’s no time for weeping,” Rina said, her face becoming serious all of a sudden. “I have an urgent matter and I’m afraid that it’s a problem that only the Children of Earth can fix.” She paused, maybe for dramatic effect, but Ems didn’t dare to make a sound. “Magic is running low, dangerously so. Someone—or something is draining the Wellspring, the source of all magic.”

Emery’s eyes widened. This was…well, it was nearly unbelievable. Magic was his constant, so what would he do if it was gone? He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Thousands of years ago, when my mother ruled,” the Queen continued, “she was approached by the Keepers—a group of mortals who made their way into our land—to make a deal. They wanted access to the Wellspring, to have magic on Earth. My mother made the deal, but under one condition. The portal to Valoria would be closed forever. Since then, our Wellspring is the reason why your earth has magicians and moroi and every little creature you can think of. The Keepers became master magicians and regulated the magic usage on Earth, then came the royal morois, and so on.” She leaned back into her throne, her hand slowly rubbing through the bunny’s fur as it lay contently on her lap. “If there is no magic, there are no magicians. Moroi cannot control the elements. Werewolves can’t shift. Sirens can’t manipulate with their voice. So I’m reopening the portal, because Valoria and Earth need help. Wouldn’t you agree, little magician?”

“I-I…” Emery couldn’t find the words. He was trying and failing. This was absolutely beyond his comprehension. “Why me?” he finally asked, remembering her earlier comment. “I mean—why did you decide to lead me here?”

The elven queen released a chortle. “Don’t you feel flattered by thinking you’re a chosen one,” she told him. “This isn’t some young adult novel, Emery Woods. You were simply at the right place at the right time.”

Emery couldn’t help but feel a bit disheartened by the words. He did love reading books because he always felt himself transporting into them, being in the protagonist’s shoes, feeling like he was meant to save the world. His eyes narrowed when he realized something, though.

“Wait. How did you know my name?” he asked.

Rina smirked down at him. “Figure out what is draining the Wellspring and save magic. Repeat the message to those you trust. I only hope that Headmistress Wolf isn’t one of them.”

Emery blinked a couple of times. “What? Why does she have anything to do with this?”

“That’s for you to figure out,” the Queen simply said with a rather bored sigh, as if she didn’t drop like, a million bombs onto him. “You are dismissed, Child of Earth.”

“W-wait, wait—!” He had so many questions. How did she know his name? What could possibly be draining the literal source of all magic? What did that mean for the academy? Why did the Queen seem distrusting of the Headmistress? Were the Keepers still around? He wasn’t able to ask any of this, because with the small wave of the elven queen’s hand, he was transported right back on the other side of the bushes, back on campus.

Letting out a huff of breath, Emery took a moment to process everything that just happened, basically frozen on the spot before shaking out of his thoughts.

“What. The. Hell?”

#plot drop 004 #hehe #acadiahqadmin

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ibelieveinharrystyles · 3 years

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Chapter Ten: We’ll Be A Fine Line

Here it is the final part of Ashley and Harry’s Story! Enjoy!!!

Christmas was a big thing for both the Hanson and Twist families, ever since that fateful day when a new tradition of joint Christmasses was coined, the two families had been intertwined. Not just by their mutual appreciation for the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special, but the adoration between two members of their families, a bond that thanks to the trials and tribulations of life was stronger than it had ever been. At last there was no hostility, no aggression, just love.

Out of the kindness of his heart, Louis had offered to drive Ashley and both the little ones up to Holmes Chapel, normally Harry would, but having just come back from filming in America, his flight had taken him straight into Manchester three days prior, rather than Heathrow. Louis and Eleanor were travelling up to Doncaster anyway, so as far as he was concerned, a little detour wouldn’t be a problem. Christmas Eve was always the best bit, Daisy was finally old enough to appreciate the traditions that Ashley once loved as a child, thankfully the traffic wasn’t too bad after all. “How are those two getting on the back?” Louis asked Ashley from the driver’s seat.

“Daisy’s watching yet another episode of Care Bears on the iPad and Robbie’s spark out, I swear all he does is sleep.” Ashley sighed, admiring her two children who were sitting either side of her in the back of Louis’ car.

“Mummy, when can we get doggies like Brucie and Cliff?” Daisy asked, looking up at from her iPad, as the two dogs sat behind them in the back of the car.

“I think we’ll have to wait and see Dais.” Ashley replied, sharing a knowing look with Eleanor, as she had asked her a few weeks beforehand for recommendations on dog breeders.

“We’re here!” Daisy clapped in excitement as Louis pulled up on Linda’s driveway.

“Thank you so much for driving us up you two, I owe you big time.” Ashley smiled.

“It’s not a problem darling, Harry wouldn’t have wanted you getting the train, especially with the two littlens.” Louis replied.

“I’m sure my mum will be more than happy for you both to stay for tea.” Ashley offered, unbuckling Robin and putting him in his pram, before helping Daisy out of the car.

“Thanks a lot love, but we should probably get back on the road before the traffic hits, have a lovely Christmas though.” Louis smiled.

“You too, thanks again.” Ashley pushed the pram up the driveway, Linda answering the door almost immediately.

“Hello my lovelies! Merry Christmas!” Linda smiled, greeting them all with warm hugs. “Let me grab your bags for you, Anne and Harry are in the kitchen eating mince pies, Gem and Michael are still on their way.”

“Harry!” Daisy ran off into the kitchen to find him as Ashley took Robin, who had just stirred from a nap out of his pram.

She made her way into the kitchen, Anne had already met Robin, but this would be the first time Harry saw him, Harry looked up at Ashley from where Daisy was showing him her new dress, “Hello stranger.” Ashley smiled, holding Robin in her arms, “Do you want to meet your little boy?” Harry nodded, standing up to greet him, Ashley passed him over, allowing Harry to hold him close to his chest.

“Hello little man, how’s it going?” Harry asked, rocking him softly as Robin gazed up into his eyes, “You did it Ash, he’s so perfect.”

“No Harry, we did it.”

The smell of Linda’s wonderful homemade Christmas Eve pie and mash spread throughout the house. Michael and Gemma had arrived after a nightmare journey and everyone was finally sitting around the table ready to tuck into a delicious meal. “I just wanted to make a quick toast,” Linda announced, “the past few years have been interesting and difficult for us all, but we made it through the other side. Although we’ve lost people along the way, we’ve gained two new little sweethearts, our little princess daisy, and her beautiful brother, darling Robin, I’m so thankful to you for welcoming me and Ash as part of your family. While we’ve always felt so welcomed and loved in all the years of our friendship, the arrival of little Robbie has finally completed us all as one unit. So let’s raise a glass to chosen family.” Everyone clinked their glasses before proceeding to tuck into their dinner.

“Thank you for having us Linda, this is beautiful as always.” Anne smiled.

“It’s delicious Linda.” Harry smiled.

After falling asleep in her old bedroom, Ash stirred from her nap to hear nothing but silence from the rest of the house, the nap was well deserved after the lengthy drive up from London. She made her way downstairs to see Harry sat on the sofa, Robin lying peacefully on his chest as he hummed along to the faint sound of Christmas music coming from the speaker on the mantelpiece. “Glad to see you two are getting to know each other, how has he been?” Ashley smiled.

“An absolute angel.” Harry replied as Ashley sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Where’s the others?” She whispered.

“They took Dais to see the Christmas lights in the village, the little man was getting grizzly so I thought he’d be better off staying here.” Harry explained.

“You’re an incredible dad,” Ashley smiled.

“Ash, I’ve literally known him for less than a day.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah I know, but I’ve seen you with Daisy and I’ve seen you with our little Robin, and you’re incredible with them both.”

“Mummy it’s Christmas!” Daisy ran into Ashley’s bedroom, jumping up and down on her bed excitedly. Ashley wiped the sleep from her eyes, looking up to see Daisy, and Harry stood by the door holding Robin. “Harry came over to bring us a special Christmas breakfast!” Daisy exclaimed.

“Merry Christmas,” Harry smiled, sitting on the bed beside Ashley, Robin dressed in a little baby grow covered in Christmas robins.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” Ashley replied, “Come here little man.” Ashley smiled, taking Robin from Harry.

“Have you told Daisy yet?” Harry asked.

“Told me what?” Daisy interrupted, still jumping up and down on the bed.

“Well if you get dressed we’re going to take you to Nanny Anne’s house to get your first big present.” Ashley told her.

“Okay!” Daisy cried, jumping off the bed and scrambling to find her red dress and white tights.

They eventually made it to Anne’s house, Daisy was beyond excited, Linda had Robin in her arms to allow Ashley and Harry to focus on Daisy and her present. They led her through the kitchen, both holding a hand each, “Now Daisy, you’ve got to be really quiet when we go into the conservatory,” Harry told her, he opened the door slowly and let Daisy in. “Merry Christmas Daisy.” He led her to the basket in the centre of the room, inside was a fluffy little caramel colour labradoodle puppy.

“Is it mine?” Daisy asked.

“Yep, she’s your little puppy.” Ashley told her, picking the puppy up and holding her so Daisy could stroke her. “What do you want to call her Dais?”

“She looks like honey, let’s call her Honey.” Daisy replied, transfixed on her new best friend.

“That’s beautiful Daisy, she’s going to love you.” Harry told her as he crouched beside her, wrapping her in a big hug.

“This is the best Christmas ever.” Daisy smiled.

Everyone else had arrived at Anne’s and they were finally all sitting around the table, tucking into their turkey. “I just wanted to say something,” Ashley said, “I know I’ve been a bit all over the place this year, I messed some of you around, some more than others. But having you all here means a lot to me, I’m so incredibly grateful that my children have such a loving family. I wanted to give you one of your presents early Harry, before we do the rest later, I know we’re not together, but if anything ever happened to me, I’d want to know my children were in safe hands, I’d want to know they had a loving home with a loving father. Which is why I got you this.”

She handed him a white envelope, he opened it, pulling out several pieces of paper, he scanned over it, before seeing the words ‘adoption proceedings’, “Is this what I think it is?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, Matt hasn’t been an active part of Daisy’s life since her birth, and I spoke to your solicitor and he said it’s completely viable for you to be Daisy’s adoptive father.” Ashley explained.

“This is the best Christmas present you could’ve got me Ash, thank you so much.” He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“I know it’s an unorthodox situation because we’re not together but it feels right.” Ashley told everyone.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” Anne smiled, “I know Linda will agree, we’re so proud of you both and we’re so grateful for you giving us two wonderful grandchildren.”

“That made his year Ash,” Gemma whispered to Ashley as they stood at the sink in Anne’s kitchen washing up the last of the dinner plates.

“I’m glad he was happy, it just felt right, even though we aren’t in a relationship he’s been the best father figure Daisy has ever had. When I think about the time I spent with Will, he didn’t love Daisy, he wanted me, Daisy was just an extra. But when it comes to Harry, he accepts that Daisy is part of the package, and he’s happy that she is.” Ashley replied, gazing through to the living room where Daisy and Harry were playing with Honey.

“You’re good for him Ash. You, Daisy and baby Robin keep his world spinning, I know you’ve been through a lot but it’s always going to be you. Regardless of who he’s with he’ll always pick you and the kids, because although he’s probably scared to admit it, he really does adore you.” Gemma told her.

“Mummy! It’s snowing!” Daisy ran into the kitchen screaming hysterically, Harry and Honey trailing behind her.

Harry chased after her, managing to scoop her up in his arms, “Before we see the snow Dais, do you want to open some more presents?” Harry asked.

“Yes!” Daisy clapped excitedly as Harry bounced her up and down on his hip.

The two families lay flat out on the sofas in Anne’s living room, Daisy was curled up beside Anne, playing with Honey, and baby Robin was fast asleep on Harry’s chest. Ashley stood outside in the cold, flakes of snow dancing through the lengths of her hair. She stared up at the blanket of stars, one thing she loved about Holmes Chapel was how clear the sky was, unlike London, was how clear the sky remained each night. “I wondered where you got to,” She turned to see Harry joining her as they both leant against the fence of Anne garden terrace.

“It’s a madhouse in there, I’m surprised Daisy still has so much energy.” Ashley remarked.

“Well at least she’ll sleep like an angel tonight.” Harry chuckled.

“Fingers crossed,” Ashley smiled, “I’ve had the loveliest day today, I’m really glad you’re home.”

“I am too, it was great working on another film, but nothing beats being here with you and the little ones.” Harry replied.

“Harry when we started this year together, I told you I wanted to take things one step at a time, because I was scared, I was scared of what would happen if I opened my heart again, I was scared of getting hurt, and I was scared of Daisy getting caught up in everything.” Ashley told him, “When really I was incomplete without you.”

“Ash what are you trying to say?” Harry asked.

“I want us to try again, as a couple,” Ashley explained, “I know that this might be a bit sudden, but seeing your bond with Robin, and seeing the way you are with Daisy. It doesn’t end there either, you’ve done so much for me, you’ve been more of a rock for me than anyone ever has, I was just so naive I didn’t realise that even when you were half way across the world you were still right there by my side.”

“Ash,” Harry whispered, taking hold of her hands, “I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Ashley kept her eyes on Harry’s, tracing delicate patterns across the skin of his knuckles as a smile beamed across her face. “That we always knew, but were too scared to say anything.”

“I never felt the need to say it.” Harry’s gaze was intent, as a tentative grin appeared on his face. “But I love you.”

“Forever?” Ashley whispered.

“Always, my golden girl.”

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #one direction memes #best friend harry #harry styles fanfic #niall horan

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alouispo · 3 years

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Alright- this fic is definitely going to be extremely dark. There is definitely going to be a lot of triggers in here. The reason why I wrote it so dark though is because the fiction that I've read isn't as dark as I would like, but then again I'm a very angsty person so that would make sense.

Trigger warnings// gaslighting, slight abuse, manipulation, depictions of violence, panic attacks, breakdowns, things like that- (also swearing and stuff)

Don't say i didn't warn you! (i cant put the break yet so ill do that later)

Ranboo didn't know what to expect when he went to visit Tommy in his exile. Surely he didn't expect anything good of course, but wasn't expecting anything too bad either. The Enderman hybrid could only visit the sixteen-year-old once every two weeks. If he would visit more than that, Dream would most likely prohibit him from visiting at all. Of course he would. The former vice president is in exile after all.

Walking through that Nether portal and stepping into Logstedshire, Ranboo was immediately filled with concern. Looking around the area, it seemed like the place had gone through hell and back. On the beach there were tons of Seagulls picking at what seemed like cake on the table; the place that Wilbur had built when Tommy came to exile for the first time was blown to smithereens, the tent was ripped to shreds and also blown up, and there were a bunch of random images of people from L'manburg hung up on wooden signs which were ripped brutally.

He also noticed the huge pillar in the distance, built on top of a large hill behind Logstedshire. Ranboo didn't want to think of the worst, so he decided to just ignore it.

Deciding that maybe it was a bad time to come after he called around for a bit with no reply, Ranboo walked back through the Nether towards L'manburg, trying to stay positive as tears started to drip down his face.

Tubbo didn't ask anything when Ranboo came back from Logstedshire in silence. His presence didn't give off a good vibe compared to his usual lively self which is full of positivity. 'Something must have happened,' he thought to himself. 'But what?'

Tommy had to get away. If he didn't he would be slaughtered eventually. If he didn't get away now, he wasn't sure he would be able to survive until the end of his exile.

The sixteen-year-old had been walking through the cold plains of the frozen biome for what seemed like hours. It was freezing oh, and he meant that literally. Also make matters worse, his clothes were worn out and he didn't have any shoes. The only bit of warmth that he kept was Wilbur's old hat. The one that he wore when he was alive. His physical and mental state didn't help him at all either. His body was weak from poor eating habits along with bruising and cuts. He didn't want to think about how he got them, so he pushed the thought out of his mind. His mental state was slowly deteriorating oh, Tommy becoming desensitized to nearly everything around him.

Not paying attention to any of his surroundings, the teenager tripped on a rock with his bare feet. The rock was unfortunately sharp and cut deep through the bottom of his foot not allowing him to walk. The cold was numbing it for a bit, so he wouldn't feel the actual pain for a while. His expression not changing, Tommy attempted to get up. The cold only pushed him down, adding the numbness of his limbs. He shivered as a harsh gust of wind pushed past him. Its not like it would matter to anyone if he decided to lay in the snow for a while. Gaining comfort in the softness of the cold, Tommy closed his eyes, promising that he would only sleep for a little bit.

His bloodlust was strong, but how strong he didn't know. Technoblade first melted when he opened the door to throw out some rotten flesh. It made him stop in his tracks as the voices started to scream for blood. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction he assumed it was coming from. Being logical, the pig thought that it was just an animal that had hurt themselves badly while falling off a cliff or running into a tree, but this was different. Techno had already known what the smell of animal blood was like, he means, it's pretty common for animals to get hurt around here. This was different though. Technoblade smelled human blood, or at least something similar to human blood. The scent was so strong and made the voices scream louder, his eyes dilating with the inability to control himself.

Dropping everything that he was doing previously, and forgetting to close the doors of his house before he left, the pig trudged towards the source of what he was smelling. Even in the thick snow, his movement and eyesight were enhanced. It didn't seem to slow him down at all as he moved stealthily. He hadn't remembered the last time he felt so sensitive to everything around him. So aware.

Picking up the pace as the voices begged him to go faster, techno felt the scent getting stronger. He knew he was close, he could almost taste it. The words blood for the blood god repeated in his head over and over as he continuously got stronger. Excitement built up in his chest at the thought of a new prey. He could see in the distance that someone was laying in the snow. 'Weak and helpless,' the voices chanted loudly. 'Kill them!' They screamed.

Before he could obliged to the voices, techno blade paused. He was sure he recognized who was lying in the snow. Before he knew it, the voices had suddenly switched tunes, all of them saying that it was Tommy who lay there and to help him. Concerned etched into his features as the blood lust calmed down, I letting him think clearly for once. The blade examined the 16-year-old boy as he kneeled next to him. It seems that the vice president was unconscious, and it seemed like the blood was coming from him. Searching his body and around him, he found a blood trail following Tommy for about two feet. A sharp rock caught his eye, leading him to assume that Tommy had cut his foot while walking. Picking the boy up as the thought of it getting infected filled his mind, Technoblade raced back to his house. It didn't also help how freezing cold it was, and how abnormally light the teenager was.

When he arrived to his base, the blade immediately slammed the door shut, startling Edward who was asleep with his dirt block. Technoblade climbed up the ladder rapidly and place Tommy on his bed before practically jumping back down it to get some bandages and a healing pot. Again, repeating the process of racing of the ladder, technical blade started on healing The cut on Tommy's foot. The main reason he was rushing so much was because he was afraid the voices would flip their switch again and decide that they want Technoblade to kill Tommy. After taking a few hours to heal the child, Techno took off his cape and covered the younger brother with it along with a few blankets. He wasn't sure how long the he could assume former vice president was outside in the cold. For all he knew, Tommy could have hyperthermia and also some other sickness on top of that.

The emperor took the time to examine Tommy Innit, Remembering how light the kid was when he picked him up. Tommy looked frail. He never thought of a more unfitting word to describe the former. He looked like he had barely eaten since the last time he saw him, say six or seven months ago. There were bruises on his face along with some cuts and a newly placed bandage on his nose. His golden hair that was usually fluffy and bright was dirty and matted, some sticks, leaves, and snow all mixed together in it. Every few minutes, Tommy would start shaking and hug himself before changing position and going back to sleeping like a dead man. He also noticed the bags under his eyes. Techno debated whether they were worse than his or not, but it was pretty obvious that it was terrible how he could have gotten those bags in such a short amount of time. He caught a glimpse of Tommy's forearm, which was worryingly covered in bandages.

Technoblade wanted to ask what it happened to him, but he decided it was better that he didn't for now. Climbing back down the ladder to go make some food, Techno left the child alone to sleep, preparing for when he would wake up.

#sbi au fanfiction #dmsp fanfiction #tommyinnit #techno and tommy #exile arc

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missinghan · 4 years

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radiant ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : college!au ; love-hate relationship!au ; frenemies to lovers!au ; fluff

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you've made a mental note to yourself never to make dumb bets with J.One again because who knows you'll fall for Han Jisung over two cups of boba?

one.

College.

That specific morifying seven-letter word can literally make someone jump off a cliff. Like straight up, Lucifer would rather drink and bathe himself in holy water than to join one of the world's most traumatizing systems. Where knowledge is being drilled into people's mind like a tattoo, and it's not even a cute one, one that you most likely will regret later.

Man, what a life.

After highschool, most people thought they were ready, physically and mentally. That's not true. Did you really think that you're ready for monotonous lectures, for back-to-back assignments with ridiculous deadlines, for cramming forty slides of the PowerPoint presentation from your professor the night before an exam just because your brain cells decided to say 'fuck it' in the middle of the lecture ?

No one's ever ready for living to torture themselves.

Not even Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin, the boy you grew up having him right by your window. Hyunjin, that one kid in class who would always hand people his homework whenever they asked for it. He's too kind for this world, for his own good, you often say that to yourself but Hyunjin isn't really all that great.

He too takes pain in turning in assignments to the T.A and dreads his 9am classes tremendously. But, since he's got a rich ass uncle who has some spare apartments lying somewhat near college ( as long as he preserves the place and invites someone over to help paying the bills ), he doesn't have to deal with the struggles of living on campus.

And you, just happen to have the honor to live with him. Well, more like temporarily to see how things will work out later. You despise living on campus anyway.

"What's with the long face ? Did Minho ramble about his cats again instead of working ?" Hyunjin walks into the living room before dropping his keys into the gold-accent bowl that he previously purchased from a garage sale. It's quite convenient, actually, the keys never end up under the couch or some random drawers again.

You look up from your laptop screen, sparing him a glare and focusing back on your assignment. Being a media major is equivalent to taking lots of notes and a shit ton of reading which is a pain in the ass. Meanwhile, a theatre kid like your roommate has his midterms and finals as setting up plays for school's events. Pfft, privileged people.

You don't hate-hate the idea of going to school like some people, in fact, you genuinely love learning, but you're in desperate need of another word for 'child labour' to be applied to this ... situation.

"Ohoho.. It's way worse, trust me, you don't wanna know." You lean your head sideways on one of the pillows, words slightly slurred with your cheek being pressed against the soft surface.

Hyunjin raises his voice from the kitchen area. "Did he confess his love for you or something ?"

"Jesus no ! You know he's not into me like that." You almost screech and sit straight up. "We were supposed to finish our project that's due this Friday. And guess who else was there ? Another chick showed up ! I swear that I wasn't hallucinating, he brought a new one home every other day. She said she was just 'a friend'." You make the quote-on-quote sign with your fingers to emphasize.

You pull on your own hair dramatically with all your might, hissing under your breath just by recalling it. "And whenever we had a twenty-minute break every hour and a half or so, she keeps brushing herself against him, acting all innocent about it. I was deadass pissed off—"

"Woah woah, I don't think it's that—"

You throw your hands in the air helplessly, suppressing the urge to throw a tantrum. "It is that bad, Hyunjin ! The chick doesn't know how to take a fucking hint !" Whatever, Hyunjin is probably too tired to wait for you to finish complaining about some random classmate drooling over Minho because they do that all the time anyway.

"Damn." He sips on his apple juice. "I should come over next time. Might be a not-so-shitty, watered-down version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'."

You shoot him a glare, closing your laptop shut. "I instantly regret moving in with you."

"Why ?" Hyunjin pouts and plops himself next to you on the beige-colored couch. He reaches for the remote on the coffee table while obnoxiously sipping on the box of juice.

"Because apparently, you love weird, gross, mushy noises as much as Minho does." You answer flatly, burying yourself deeper into the white fuzzy blanket. Actually, no. Living with Hyunjin isn't as bad as you're trying to make it sound.

He might not cook, but he knows some decent restaurant with reasonable prices. He might be all over the place sometimes while panicking over an upcoming exam but at least he keeps his space organized ( unlike Han Jisung, whose closet is a perfect resemblance of World War III ).

Hyunjin throws his apple juice into the nearby bin while scrolling through the 'Romance' section briefly. And sharing the same Netflix account is probably the best decision you two have ever made. "What's worth-hating here ? No smelly kids, no not-having-enough-personal-space problem. There's good food, a cute, quirky roommate which naturally equals good company. You're living your best life right now. The only downside to this is that you have to deal with my questionable sleeping habits."

Fine. Hwang Hyunjin is cute, and a total heartthrob to the entire school. You won't be surprised if every single male student hates him with a passion ( which they do ). Not to mention, all of your female classmates would be more than happy to finish all of your assignments within two days as long as you hand over his number. Although they might want to reconsider due to the fact that this good-looking boy is also that person who records his alarm by yelling at the top of his lungs into his phone speaker.

But, a good friend wouldn't do that, because even God doesn't know what those creepy girls would do once they had their hands on his phone number. This is also why you always get dirty looks from everyone just because you just happen to be his plus-one for everything.

And Hwang Hyunjin only needs a plus-one when Seungmin decides to hate him on that day ( which is almost everyday ). So there goes your reputation. You're probably nothing but a mediocre girl who just doesn't know when not to be all over her hot best friend in the people's eyes.

Hyunjin snaps his head towards the front door when the bell rings then proceeds to turn back to his roommate, showing those ridiculously adorable puppy that naturally implies as 'Get the door for me, will ya ?'. And although all you want to do is to slap him with your laptop, you still stand up nonetheless. You undo the chains and slides the lock over before swinging the door open.

"Hyunjin, I was wondering if you wanna come see us perform this Saturday. You know, at the school's mini music festival. 8p.m. Got two tickets to spare. You can get yourself a plus-one or something." And before you - with an obnoxiously loud tone, the leather jacket and Balenciaga cap - is Changbin, who sassily brushes past you and makes a beeline towards the couch, where Hyunjin is man-spreading, wrapped up securely in his white fluffy blanket.

He lazily sits up from his previous position, receiving the tickets with half-open eyes. "I'll go. As long as 'Wow' is on schedule." 'Wow' is 3racha's first and most definitely last attempt of a love song but somehow, it's managed to get itself a special place in Hyunjin's heart. Well, more accurately, everyone's heart.

Changbin cocks an eyebrow. "It's first on the list actually." He then turns to you with a smirk spread across his lips. "Whatcha say, Y/N ? We all know your favorite line is 'Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend ?' from the lovely J.One." He refers to one of Jisung's lines in a love song which he wrote at the age of 16, Changbin wasn’t even 18 himself then. Good times. And now literally every girl is more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere. Chan really didn't lie when he proclaimed 3racha as 'hot'.

You shake your head with a timid smile tugged on your lips. "I don't think so Bin, I'm having midterms on Monday, J.One can be saved later as my midnight snack whenever I wanna grill his ass for pestering me during the golden hour aka 3a.m."

Midterms sound good enough for an excuse because everyone would literally kill keep their A-s on those report cards. But unfortunately, you can't just play on the infamous SpearB that easily because apparently, being roommates with Hyunjin has absolutely nothing to do with improving your awful acting skills.

Just then, the most inappropriate, insufferable, infuriating, and other synonyms for 'annoying' clapback clicks inside Changbin's brain when an imaginary lightbulb pops up at the top of his head. "Man, you two are really out there banging each other in secret—"

And out the door he goes before you feel the need to personally stitch up his lips with your terrible sewing skills from elementary school. You close your eyes and takes in a deep breath, shutting the door behind your back while Hyunjin is too busy laughing his ass off on the couch.

This is getting to the point where you don't even need Han Jisung to be here to have the urge to strangle him, because his trash friends are no help at all.

two.

You step onto the bus with your earbuds on, right hand dropping the bus ticket into the glass box that's neatly placed right beside the driver's seat. Another day, another 4 hours of lectures and 2 continuous shifts which is another 5 hours at the café on campus, in which, sucks. But, what makes it even suckier comes right in three, two, one..

"Two people please !" A disturbingly obnoxious voice chirps right behind you. Just then, a figure dashes through the couple who are currently throwing daggers at him with their eyes. Not this again. You groans to yourself before sliding an extra ticket into the box because you definitely know better than to mess with a cranky bus driver. That boy over there really gotta pay for that shit.

Then, you take a seat beside the window, deciding to ignore the pest who just made you spend an extra ticket for his ride. You really should have taken another bus instead of the 325. Suddenly, a hand reaches towards one of your earbuds and pulls it out quickly. A puff of air hits your left eardrums like a rush of electricity, causing you to jump a bit.

"Can you stay still for a good span of 10 fucking seconds ?" You deadpan and and snap your head around. And before you - with slightly damp fringe covering his warm brown orbs, cute button nose and peachy lips ( gross ) - is Han Jisung. More accurately, the bane of your existence.

Jisung chuckles loudly at the big scowl on your face as he angles his head to take a proper look at you. You look like you just rolled out of bed, literally, not even metaphorically. Sweatpants, flannels and sneakers are the way to go if you're gonna be on your feet all day running around to serve sleep-deprived students and professors. Of course you look like a complete bum, it's 9a.m. What did he expect ?

"Aw." He pouts. "Where's the fun in that then, little cub ?"

And when Jisung reaches a hand out to pat your head, you frowns at his particularly ridiculous nickname for you and slaps his hand away. He watched the new remake of 'The Lion King' before the new semester started and cried like a total baby when Mufasa fell off the cliff, said Felix. Honestly, you wouldn't blame him because those devastating thirty seconds remain to be the most heartbreaking scene that Disney has ever invented. But still, the nickname is painfully unoriginal.

"Man, I hope you bombed your midterms or something." You speak up flatly, a slightly better retort lingering at the tip of your tongue but you're far too tired to argue with him anyway. And not to mention, your previous statement is completely useless because if Hwang Hyunjin is that kid who works his ass off to get good grades then Jisung is the complete opposite of that. He can sleep through ten lectures and still get a minimum of 90% on his exams. The perks of being a prodigy since newborn, can't relate.

Jisung feigns a painful expression, scrunching his nose up in fake agony. "How supportive of you, so incredibly validating." He cocks his head upwards carelessly, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Okay. Despite his annoying personality and questionable nicknames for everyone then Han Jisung is kinda attractive. You get it, you get it, Hwang Hyunjin is attractive but this prick is another kind of attractive.

Whenever he screams his heart out at the mic on stage, there are literal silver and gold specks floating in his eyes like an explosion of stardust scattered across the whole universe. And the way he conveys his emotions into his lyrics to perform an entire song on stage is just tremendously remarkable. No wonder all the girls always come rushing in when J.One is on stage.

Wait, were you thinking about Han Jisung or J.One ? But no, Han Jisung is J.One. It's just that J.One is slightly cooler than Jisung because he doesn't pester people until they have a cardiac arrest. Whatever, your brain is already yelling for retirement.

"You are coming to watch my performance right ?" Jisung suddenly leans over, your noses almost touching. Being the idiotic person that you are, your body immediately locks itself in place, hissing slightly at the current proximity. Great, now what ?

"Ooh." A low whistle escapes his lips. "You were too busy checking me out. It's okay, that's understandable. Not everyone can have a close-up of J.One's out-of-this-world visual." He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise.

"I was not !" You exclaim upon embarrassment, cheeks turning into a bright shade of coral. "There's just something in your teeth."

"Uh huh, I doubt it." Yeah, he would never buy that. Jisung smiles at you cheekily and once again, Han Jisung has proved that he's the kind of guy who has the particular type of smile that makes you want to knock their teeth out. Although you can't help but fall for it nonetheless. Very typical of you. "So, are you coming or nah ?"

Your heart tingles a bit, and you feel like you can just pass out right here right now on this stupid bus in the middle of this stupid conversation with his stupid boy and his stupid smile. "No, I have my midterms on Monday. Guess who's pulling all nighters again ?" You push his face away because if not, you might as well just explode and make a fool of yourself.

"Ahhhh, why not ?" Jisung whines as if there's no tomorrow. "It's not like you enjoy drowning yourself in Kang's 40 slides of 'History of Media 101' anyway." Now, for once in a fairly long time, the bastard finally said something that wasn't complete bullshit. And you're starting to reconsider your decision because although Han Jisung is undeniably insufferable, J.One can make it up with his dope performances. But then again, you really just don't want to see his face on Saturdays.

Suddenly he rolls himself over again, his lips drawing a devilish smile. You can tell already from the dangerous look in his eyes, it's not going to end well.

"Are you in for a bet ? If I win, you'll have to go. But if you win, I'll do whatever you want me to, for an entire week. You're basically the privileged one here, don't even deny it."

three.

Changbin wakes up from his long nap to find Chan having his eyes glued to the laptop's screen as if his life depends on it. It makes him wonder how long his friend has been working on the rearrangement of all their songs for this Saturday's music festival.

"I see that you're making quite the progress." He grunts slightly before sitting up straight. The small faux leather couch that their school has in the band practice room isn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But after what seems like an eternity in the lecture hall, tolerating the professor's rant then Changbin wouldn't even mind sleeping on the floor.

Chan slowly peels his eyes away from the screen and blinks numerous times so that he won't potentially go blind. He looks over at Changbin's slouch figure on the couch, tapping away on his phone and smiles dumbly at some memes that Minho just DM-ed to their group chat.

"Damn right, I just finished chopping up the bits of back-up vocals. I feel like my back is so fragile that it might break in half if I stand up." He runs a hand through his mop of black hair that's nowhere near the definition of 'doable' and yawns into his other palm.

He peeks over his shoulder to see Hyunjin and Felix sleeping while leaning against the mirror, Minho laying on top of Jeongin as he chuckles creepily at his phone. And Woojin is too busy singing his heart out with his guitar in the corner to notice Seungmin capturing everyone in their greatest glory, meaning when they're all a hot mess.

Changbin swings his legs over and slips into his black Adidas slides, walking over to Chan in a sluggish manner. He crouches down a bit while squinting his eyes to take a proper look at the laptop screen. Chan indeed has finished most of it, no wonder he looks ( and probably smells ) like trash. "I'll give you a hand, just send these over to me after when you got home." He says, giving his friend a pat on his back.

"Yeah sure," Chan puts a hand over his mouth to cover up another yawn. "By the way, where the fuck is Jisung ? He hasn't been answering my texts all morning."

Changbin gives him an indifferent shrug. "He said he would be on campus all day on Thursdays since he has classes and work right after- hold on he's texting me."

[ 5:23pm ]

piece of shit : where are you guys ?

baby changbin : band room, clearly you never listened.

[ 5:24pm ]

piece of shit : yeesh, I was busy you ass. texting y/n and all.

baby changbin : it was fucking 3a.m. !

[ 5:25pm ]

piece of shit : whatever, we'll be there in two.

He pauses for a while and lets the words sink in. Why "we" and not "I" ? Since when this was a plural thing ? Did all of those lectures and serving sleep-deprived students fuck up his brain cells ?

Wow, now Changbin feels bold to assume that Han Jisung even own brain cells. And before he can show the texts to the rest of his friends to make fun of Jisung while he's not here, the glass door swings open. Hyunjin and Felix jolt up in surprise at the same time, almost bumping their heads together at the creaking sound.

"We got you kids boba, wake up wake up hurry hurry SCHNELL !" Jisung screeches loudly when he pushes himself through the front door, accidentally making you bump your forehead into the dull glass surface.

You follows him inside with a big scowl on your face, quickly passing Changbin the plastic bags. Yes, you can hear the polar bears crying in the distance loud and clear but unluckily you only have two hands for ten cups of boba.

"Why boba all of a sudden ?" Minho looks up from his phone in boredom as Jeongin is utterly dying underneath, slapping his palm repeatedly against the floor in exhaustion.

Minho feels ( kinda ) bad for him and decides to roll himself over, setting Jeongin free from his miserable state. "Did you two go on a date or something ?" The youngest one's features morph into a frown, eyeing the two up and down in caution when he crosses his legs together.

You make an unimpressed face and glares at Jisung, who's currently hogging the entire black couch on his own. "Who the fuck would make their date carry everything then ? You tell me Jeongin."

Woojin stands up after craning his neck and shakes his head in disapproval. "My greatest disappointment, Han Jisung, would do that unfortunately." He walks over to Felix and Hyunjin to get himself a cup from the bag.

"Let's be honest, you'd still date him even if he does that anyway. I haven never seen any other girl who has the courage to personally rummage through his disastrous closet just to steal a hoodie." He takes a sip and smirks at the black hoodie that you're wearing. Woojin thinks you should definitely give yourself more credit because personally, he can't be bothered to step into Jisung's room, much less his closet.

You're still slightly confused for a moment there but quickly look down and almost gasp in realization. "I can explain—"

"Don't worry Y/N, if he ever mistreats you, you best believe that he's not gonna see tomorrow's daylight." Felix supplies unhelpfully over a mouthful of boba. Since when did he become such a nuisance ? But he's not entirely wrong because if no one volunteers to skin Jisung alive when he leaves you with a broken heart then Hyunjin will literally disown him. He doesn't care if it's legal or not because even a law student like Woojin would be on his side in this.

You hold up your hand defeatedly. "The jerk purposely left it on my couch back at the apartment. And Hyunjin didn't want to return nor wash it so I was obligated to do that myself. Eventually, the hoodie just ended up on a hanger right behind my bedroom door. Not to mention, I was running late earlier and had nothing to wear." You finish your sentence, realizing that your roommate has been giving you a 'wtf' face all his time.

"Out of reasons already ?" Chan chirps, raising a dark brow.

Okay.

In your defense, it's a goddamn good hoodie. The material is actually really nice that you might accidentally fall asleep if you wear this to class. You didn't mind the design on it either, kinda boyish but very funky, almost hippie looking. And last but not least, the smell of it is intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more. That's also equivalent to Jisung smells nice ( ew ) and your cheeks automatically heat up at the thought of feeling like he's hugging you whenever you wear it.

You frantically try to explain with expressive hands. "Look, guys—"

"You're going this Saturday !!" Jisung's voice suddenly booms behind your back as he declares loudly like it's the most worth-knowing thing in the whole wide world. The guys trade confused look with each other, not knowing what nonsense their friend is babbling about. Whatever, they don't have to either way. "You're going, you're going, you're going !"

You look over at Hyunjin's cup in disbelief, completely full and untouched. Meanwhile, Felix has already finished his drink in between the 15-minute conversation. You blinks and quickly comprehends the new amount of information, you lost the bet. Which means...

Screw midterms.

four.

Screw the music festival, you’re not going anywhere.

“How’s this ?” Hyunjin steps out from his room with a white dress shirt tucked inside his skinny jeans. And you hate him even more now because your roommate looks totally #boyfriendmaterial in every outfit that he’s been trying for the past half an hour. Really, Hyunjin should give himself more credit for his looks because you bet girls would still throw themselves at him even if he showed up to school looking homeless and all.

You look up from your phone in boredom. “Looks good to me.”

Upon your flat reply, Hyunjin shoots you a glare. “Good ? It only stops there at ‘good’ ? Then which item in my closet appeals to you as ‘spectacular’ or ‘breathtaking’ ? Should I just hire a personal stylist or something ?” He wants to snap at you but ends up whining like a elementary school kid that’s not allowed to drink his favorite soda from the vending machine.

“Dude, eat a chill pill.” You frown slightly at his particularly dramatic ass ( tsk, drama majors ) and decide to put your phone down. “You’re going to a music festival, at uni. Not attending some kind of award shows for celebrities.”

Hyunjin snickers before clicking his tongue. “And you’re planning on wearing that ?”

Your roommate is stressing himself over being overdressed for an event. You, on the other hand, haven’t even made up your mind about an outfit yet and your plus-one is picking you up in less than 30 minutes. And you’re still here, on the couch, in your pyjamas. Call it madness but personally, you wouldn’t mind wearing this to the music festival. Music is technically art in some kind of shape or form and only uncultured swines judge those who prefer being comfy over fashionable.

Come on, it’s art. Your pyjamas can express yourself in some sort of way right ?

“Stop shitting on my Mickey Mouse sweatpants as if it’s something straight out of the 1910s.” You protest, urging to throw the jar filled with gummy bear on the coffee table at his precious face. Mickey is definitely not going anywhere since you guys have been bonding since middle school.

Hyunjin pauses in the middle of his track going back into his room. Suddenly he turns around and smiles at you creepily. “It’s Jisung, isn’t it ?”

Yeah, no. Most definitely not. Still not him. Nuh uh. Okay… Maybe it’s because you don’t want to embarrass your plus-one because he’s also a total heartthrob. Maybe, it could be something about the fact that you’re afraid you’re not gonna look as good as your roommate. Or maybe it’s something inside the can of Redbull that you downed last night while rewatching the last episode of ‘Goblin’. You don’t even like Redbull.

Shit, you’re running out of excuses already.

“Actually, I was thinking that it’d be better if I didn’t show up.” You confess timidly, scared to meet Hyunjin’s confused expression.

When you gather enough courage to look up, he looks absolutely unimpressed and partially disappointed. “And you’re just gonna rain-check on Choi Yeonjun like that ? Changbin’s not letting this slide, I’ll tell you that.” He shakes his head in disapproval, this time turning on his heels to walk towards his bedroom door.

Something inside your stomach is tickling, as if it’s trying to tell you that you’re about to commit some kind of unforgivable sin if you don’t go to the festival. And just when you’re about to ignore it and wrap yourself up warmly on the L-shaped couch like the lazy bum that you are, your phone buzzes.

[ 4:24pm ]

yeonjun | I’ll be there in five.

five.

Only losers go to a music festival without a plus-one.

Hyunjin is one lucky bastard because Seungmin is tolerating his ass for the day. Meanwhile, Woojin is too busy pestering Felix to let him sneak into backstage looking for Changbin. And by now, everyone probably knows that Minho is secretly obsessed with Jeongin since he's decided to stick himself to the youngest like the spoiled parasite that he is. But that's not the point. Point is : you're terrible at navigation so you're obligated to get yourself a plus-one.

And he just happens to be Choi Yeonjun, that one business major who's secretly a dancer that left everyone's wig flying to Africa during last year's prom. You two have walked past each other before between periods and since he's an acquaintance of Changbin, he'd always wave back at you with the sweetest smile. You see him as a fun person to be around, kinda like a sunshine.

But what you didn't know is that, if your group of friend's chaotic energy is 3000, then Yeonjun alone is already on another level.

"Why the long face Y/N ? Enjoy the music, relax, let the night set you free !" Yeonjun chuckles at the frown on your face as he swings an arm over your shoulder. You can already tell that he's getting a bit tipsy from his tinted red cheeks and his breath smells like beer. Never knew the guy couldn't go heavy with his alcohol. Much like your roommate himself.

You peel the red plastic cup away from his hand to abandon it on some random table, dragging him away from the bar before his friend - Beomgyu, offers him some kind of sketchy looking drink. The kid is only a freshman and you feel like you should strangle the person who permitted him to be the bartender for the night.

"Alright, that's enough beer for you." You tell him mild-seriously, partially because you don't want him to end up knocked out in the middle of nowhere and partially because you can't contain someone who's drunk, not even yourself. "Let's find Soobin, I bet he's running around campus looking for your ass."

"What do you mean he's looking for my ass ? He's at home playing stupid boardgames with stupid Taehyun." Yeonjun slurs, shaking the haziness away furiously before fluttering his eyes upwards. "Look !" He squeals a little bit too loudly for anyone's liking. "It's your boyfriend !"

You abruptly put your index finger on his lips. "Shh shhh ! Han Jisung is not my boyfriend ! Watch your mouth, please, I beg." You hush him and glance around to look for any signs of Hyunjin or Felix popping out from a random bush to make fun of you. "We're barely friends, why would you think that we're dating ?!" You cry dramatically, cheeks burning with a bright shade of pink.

The blue haired boy makes a thinking face, which you think it's undeniably cute, before pointing towards the stage. "Because he's looking at you ?" He says cluelessly, giggling while clapping happily like a seal.

You unconsciously lift your head to eye the stage. Time seems to stop when you realize Jisung has been staring at you all this time. His expression is unfathomable. Your heart starts thundering loudly inside your rib cage, so loud that it overcomes the loud EDM music in the background, so loud that you're afraid he might hear it even when he's so far away.

In this light, in the middle of your chaos, there is Jisung. And he's absolutely otherworldly, radiant, dazzling, coruscating. Gosh, you can go on forever if your brain cells allow you to.

The moment he breaks eye contact, that's when you're pondering over who is it that your heart is beating for. Han Jisung ? Or is it just J.One ? Because you've seen Jisung as a total pest who never takes things seriously, who always makes you pay an extra ticket for his ride to uni, who spontaneously sends you derp pictures of him in the middle of a lecture. But no matter where you go, he would constantly pop up inside your mind out of nowhere. Like a phantom.

Suddenly, Chan's voice booms through the speaker, making you jump. "The performance of 3racha will be delayed due to technical errors. We apologize for this inconvenience." You stand there dumbly, blinking numerous times for his words to sink in. The question here isn't really 'what?' but 'why?'. 3racha take music very seriously and they're not the type to slack off any performances even if it's just for a school's small event.

You snap your head back to the stage, Chan and Changbin are talking to a technical staff, an apologetic smile blooming on their faces. But wait, where the fuck is Jisung ?

"Told ya !" Yeonjun hiccups into your ear. "What kind of non-boyfriend will cancel a performance just to come and see you like this ?" You should have gone with Hyunjin, you really should.. You bet he's not even half as drunk a Yeonjun right now since all Seungmin drinks is kombucha.

Unexpectedly, and also expectedly, you find yourself staring at Jisung, who's speed-walking towards your direction, like a complete dumbass. There's fire flickering at the back of his irises, burning intensely onto you. His brows are knitted together, his jacket hanging slightly over his shoulder, teasing you with a flash of his biceps. You also notice how the microphone is still there, in his hand.

Did he fucking leave the stage just to see you ?

Jisung breathes out a puff of smoke from the chilly air. "Y/N, got you."

Your heart actually feels like it’s hanging on the edges when your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly. "And you are ?" He looks over at Yeonjun with an almost disgusted expression, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You don't blame him either way because Yeonjun looks like he just made it out of one of the world's most traumatizing lunatic asylum with shitty security. And Jisung wouldn't let you walk around with a crazy guy attached to you like a total creep. Not when he's monitoring.

“Y/N’s plus-one ?”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Yeonjun holds his hands up as if he's being held at gunpoint. "Easy, dude, I'm leaving. I'm leaving. She's all yours." He laughs, sounding almost too nervous to be true because Jisung is somewhat scary whenever someone gets on his bad side. Just ask Highschool Hyunjin.

"You're wasted as fuck, what makes you think that I'll let you go home alone like this ?" You say, flinching slightly when you feel Jisung tightens his grip on your hand. He cocks a brow as if he's testing you.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere. Just gonna swing by the bar, Beomgyu probably came up with something to knock me out." Without a proper goodbye nor a hug like his normally playful self usually does, the blue haired boy turns on his heels to walk away from the scene. And you exhale deeply out of relief, not because you hated Yeonjun's company, you might actually hang out with him again. Just not where there's alcohol.

Jisung still hasn't let go of your hand yet, and surprisingly, you don't want him to. "I take that as you two aren't dating ?" He questions, studying your features more closely. You're really pretty, he thinks. Jisung has never once hesitant about using the word 'pretty' for you and he's not afraid to show it either. It's just that you never bothered to notice.

"No ? Hyunjin decided to ditch me for Seungmin and Yeonjun's a mutual friend through Changbin so we texted, and he picked me up after when Hyunjin left." You give him a weird look, confused by how pissed off he looks right now. "And I take that as you're jealous ?"

Jisung laughs humorously, his voice doused in dry sarcasm. "Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be backstage with me since you lost the bet, not clinging yourself onto some hot guy from Changbin's Biochem 101." Of course Jisung is pissed off. How could he not when you're all smiling and laughing with another guy, when he has an arm over your shoulder, holding you so lovingly, so tightly ? Another guy that's not him.

You widen your eyes at how ridiculous he sounds, almost in disbelief. "Excuse you ? Since when 'being backstage with you' was even a thing in our bet ?" Yeah, completely unheard of. "And I was not clinging onto him, I'll have you know that he chugged on a bottle of Hennie and ended up wobbling around like a fucking toddler !"

Your voice is getting louder and louder by the second, chest heaving up and down in anger because he is in fact, being extra insufferable tonight. You haven’t seen him acting like this since he officially declared cold war with Hyunjin back in junior year highschool.

"Oh yeah ? Then what ? You liked that ? It makes me sick to the stomach seeing you giggling at one of his stupid jokes. You seemed so fucking comfortable even when he's this close ?" Jisung tugs in your arm to pull you closer, his cool breath fanning your forehead. Your cheeks unknowingly feel hot, but you're not going to admit it to his face. "You're completely okay with this ?"

You grimace a stiff smile. "Of course I am." Oh boy were you wrong.

"Even now ?" He places his hands over your shoulder to bend down, angling his face so that the tip of his nose is brushing over yours. His gaze pierces right through you, leaving you completely stripped and vulnerable. And you hate every single part of this. You hate how you heart is swelling, how his touches burn like fire, how much effect he has on you with such minimal effort.

Jisung says with a devilish smirk blooming on his lips. "Hmm ? I don't know Y/N, you look pretty burnt up to me."

"It's because of the heat—" You instantly regret what you said when it starts to rain. Droplets of water repeatedly tap against your skin like clear champagne. A cloud shadows over you two and another splatter of rain comes along. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the cool sensation as your limbs lock themselves in place. Jisung has never broken eye contact with yours since then, specks of good and silver floating in his eyes like a brilliant explosion of a supernova.

Just when you thought your lips was gonna collide, something unexpected happens. Jisung takes off his jacket and swings it over your shoulders. He gently holds you by the waist as he hurries you inside, your gaze never once leaves his features. He's saying something but you can't quite catch it, it's hard to concentrate when he's being all affectionate and sweet to you like this.

You are far too busy telling your heart not to explode.

six.

Felix stomps over to your table and slams his tray of food down aggressively. Everyone peels their eyes off what they’re doing for the time being, throwing a weird look towards him. With a satisfied smile on his face, Felix drops his notebook onto the table. Changbin glances at him with an expressionless face, almost yawned in boredom. “And how did it go again ?” He drawls tiredly as if he has heard the same joke over and over for an entire week.

“You know that feeling when you feel like you’re completely detached from your own body and just stare at yourself from above ? I was up there, mind blank while my mouth couldn’t stop blabbering about what ever the fuck was on those slides. I ditched my Flashcards, completely untouched, 5 minutes has never flown by so quick. Boom, the professor didn’t even think twice about giving me an A.” Felix leans back on his chair comfortably after wrapping up his story.

Seungmin scrunches his nose at his friend. “Yeah sure, it’s an A. Big fucking deal.” Kim Seungmin basically has a full scholarship straight to college in the middle of his senior highschool year, you can say that he has the right to be unimpressed.

Minho shrugs indifferently, scrolling through his feed to kill some time. “It is for Yongbok apparently, give him a break. You know he hardly gets any when his brain only consists of Seo Changbin and Fortnite.”

Felix hisses at the older boy like a cat when you accidentally step on its tail, threatening to gouge out one of his eyes with the plastic fork on his hand. Minho being on his ass 24/7 just makes college that much more of a hellhole. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance because no one is even trying to spare a ‘Good job’ or ‘Good for you’. He might actually need new friends, Felix ponders.

But wait, something’s missing.

Jisung didn’t even try to make fun of him. And he never missed a single chance to pester him or call him out every time he’s all giddy over good grades. In other words, his secret life as a potential nerd has been foiled thanks to Han Jisung. But apparently, girls find it hot when a nerd is secretly a dancer.

He looks over to his friend and frowns furiously. A hood thrown over his head, eyes glued to his laptop screen, Jisung looks extra antisocial today and Felix can feel something’s off because he would be jumping around, yelling into your ears by now, not making a PowerPoint presentation. “What’s wrong with you two ?” He asks, noticing how you’re also acting strange.

You’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and stop abruptly at a new post from @j.one. It’s a picture of Jisung grinning while gripping on a microphone followed by a caption “Always have so much fun performing w/ my bros, @spearB & @cb97 - photo by @princehwang #SocialSaturday”.

You almost snickered, feeling the need to change it into “#TBT”. Not only because this photo was taken months ago for a summer music festival nearby Uni, but also because this bright side of Han Jisung no longer exists. He hardly talked to you since Saturday, ignored you when you made eye-contact with him on the hallways, didn’t even ask you to pay for his ride.

Basically, he’s making a fuss out of nothing. But you wouldn’t say that it feels good not having him call you ‘little cub’ 50 times a day or send you random messages during a lecture like ‘go out with me ?’. You never take them seriously anyway because he can’t like you just like that, right ? “Ask him, not me.” You raise a brow towards Jisung, earning a glare from him as a reply. “I’m not the one who’s being petty over me going to a music festival with Choi Yeonjun.”

Jisung sighs dramatically and shuts his laptop close. “Is that all you got ?” He inquires sarcastically as if he’s gonna set you on fire if you dare to try him.

“That’s what I said the first time we played Mario Kart together, isn’t it ? I totally kicked your ass, to the curb.” You protest as the blood running through your veins slowly boils. If it weren’t for Hyunjin to hold your shoulders in place, you would have thrown hands at Jisung.

Jisung slams his hands onto the surface of the table harshly, almost knocked the whole table over. “Yeah, that’s why Chan never lets you drive because you’re exactly the reason for all of our wild turbulence. Because you suck at driving !”

You feel like you’re being held in a chokehold, literally and metaphorically because you can’t even drag Jisung down to the very bottom of Hell when you’re fully capable of doing that. Not before you kill him with your bare hands.

“I mean one of us had to have the guts to drive everyone back after a party where y’all got fucking wasted. College parties are so lit, they say. Who the fuck does three keg stands in a row just to run around the neighborhood shirtless later on ?!” You clatter loudly, earning a ‘wtf’ look from the students at the opposite table.

“Who wants another milkshake ? It’s on me.” Woojin interrupts the two of you, already pulling out his wallet in a rush.

Jisung’s ears automatically turn red, and you smirk at the sight of his pink cheeks upon both embarrassment and anger. “What did you just say ?”

“Ten milkshakes it is.” Chan drags Woojin out of his seat and the two of them helplessly walk towards the canteen cashier from across your table. He’s already given up, you can tell. Because if not, he would just personally hang Jisung upside down on a tree ( his natural habitat ) so that he can cool down before he said something he’d definitely regret later.

You push Hyunjin away and stand up right, staring at Jisung dead in the eye. “What’s wrong ? Cat got your tongue ?” Are you finally getting back at him ? Is this how victory taste like ?

“Say that again and I’m gonna— ugh ! Christ, I hate you !” Jisung sounds like he’s on the verge of exploding and you’re absolutely enjoying every single moment of this.

You mock him in amusement. “You’re gonna what ?”

“I’m gonna fucking kiss—“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulls his friend backwards and Jisung once again lands on his bottom, onto the wooden bench. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin the heat but at least spare some of your sanity for the sake of publicity, yeah ? You know, if you guys wanna make out that bad, there’s always a restroom.”

Sanity ? For the sake of publicity ? Well, that changes everything. “WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE OUT LEE MINHO YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK KNOCK UPSIDE YOUR HEAD, YOU FILTHY PIECE OF SH-“ You’ve come to a decision that if Han Jisung doesn’t end up somewhere six feet under the ground, then Lee Minho - aka his best friend - is taking his bullet for today.

“Woah woah, Y/N, easy girl, easy.” Hyunjin holds you back with both hands. Okay, he gets why Jeongin doesn’t want to come over whenever you and Jisung are breathing in the same room now.

Jeongin scrunches his nose as he obnoxiously chews on his tuna sandwich. “Yeah, you guys need to cool down a little bit. You know, just chill out. That’s enough for your ‘friendly banter’, let the others enjoy their lunch in peace, will you ?”

You and Jisung continuously give each other death stares for the rest of your lunch break. Even when Chan and Woojin come rushing back with five cups of milkshakes each, even when it’s your favorite flavor in the entire world, it can never put out the fire of wrath that’s burning furiously deep inside. All you want to do is to have Han Jisung down on his knees and beg you for his life like how King Stefan did to Maleficent. The only difference is that Jisung actually doesn’t have a daughter.

Is that too much to ask for ?

seven.

[ 2:35pm ]

yeonjun | hey, I need to talk to you…

yeonjun | nearby café after school ? I can just wait if you’re getting out late.

You read the message on your way out of the lecture hall and widen your eyes. The hour displayed on your screen reads ‘3:45pm’. You immediately push your way through the crowd of sweaty students and run down the hallway like a psychopath. God, Yeonjun has been sitting alone at the café like a complete fool just because of you. Now you feel like a terrible human being.

“Woah, where are you going in such a hurry ?” Hyunjin yells at you loudly when you brush past him and Jeongin.

You hastily shout back at him before continuing to run. “Don’t wait for me ! Just spare me some left over !”

When you arrive at the café, you feel like you should give yourself a pat on the shoulder because you don't think you’ve ever run that fast before in your entire life. Not even for the marathon competitions during middle school.

And the café looks somewhat different today, something smells weird too, you notice. Then you realize that they just repainted the whole thing, replacing the old teal blue color into a warmer brownish color. The walls and windows are decorated with fairy lights, like a cherry on a sundae, it’s perfect for the upcoming winter break. Because students aren’t just gonna come here for the caffeine, they’re gonna hog this place for themselves sooner or later to get at least one aesthetic photo for the holiday.

You quickly spot Yeonjun sitting alone in the color while having his headphones on, slowly dozing off to the music. His cup of iced macchiato remains untouched with water dipping on the sides. A pang of guilt hits you almost instantly when you start walking towards his direction. As you sit down on the opposite seat, Yeonjun suddenly startles and shakes his sleepiness away.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, my phone was off all day.” You say with an apologetic smile on your face, feeling the guilt keeps piling onto your shoulders. “You could just leave or something, I wouldn’t be mad.”

Yeonjun removes his headphones and laughs slightly, scratching the nape of his neck. “It’s fine,” He waves his hands at you to tell you that everything’s okay. “I really need that short nap after all. God, I was dreading my neuroscience assignment all day. But hey, I really need to talk to you, that’s why I was so determined to wait.”

“Don’t even, Yeonjun. You could have just gone home and rest.” You shake your head at him in defeat. You swear to God, he’s too kind. “What’s so important that you wanted to talk to me so badly ?” You ask while flipping through the menu. The weather has been pretty chilly lately, it might be nice to have a hot chocolate.

Yeonjun’s ears turn red at your words and he starts to dart his eyes around, scared to meet your eyes. “I— uhm, look, I just—“ He stammers with tinted pink cheeks, which you find ridiculously adorable. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened on Saturday.” He manages to squeak out and you have to hold back the urge to laugh. “I shouldn't have drunk that much beer, right ? You should feel lucky that I left you with your boyfriend because I may or may not have thrown up all over Beomgyu. He almost kicked me off a cliff, I’m not overexaggerating, I swear.”

That’s not true. Yeonjun should be the one who needs to feel lucky because not only didn’t Beomgyu leave him on some random sidewalks, he personally called Taehyun to bring him extra clothes and had an Uber to get them three back home before midnight. He knows Beomgyu is too utterly soft for him to murder him in his sleep anyway.

You smile at him before waving the waiter boy over to punch in your order. “Choi Yeonjun, it’s fine, really. You’re so much fun to hang around. But next time, no more beer for you, get it ?” Upon your teasing, he lets out a nervous chuckle. And little did you know, he’s planning on telling you something much, much more horrendous. “And how many times do I need to tell you that Jisung is not my boyfriend ?”

“Just not yet.” He corrects you, and you’re stuck between the ideas of strangling Han Jisung and throwing Choi Yeonjun off a cliff. Or maybe both. “You guys caused quite the scene during lunch break. You two bickered like an old married couple. Not to mention, you’ve probably ended up on everyone’s social medial by now.”

Your eyes widen in terror. A tape of you, and Han Jisung yelling at each other at the top of your lungs is on the Internet. Since a young age, you’ve come to realize that nothing on the internet ever really goes away. And that thought scares you shitless. Great, now everyone will think of you two as that one loud couple who always argue over stupid things. “I’m so fucking screwed— give me a sec, someone’s texting me.”

[ 4:12 pm ]

han | where are you ?

y/n | why would that matter ?

han | you’re on a date right ? with him.

y/n | han jisung are you watching me ? wtf you creep !?

[ 4:13pm ]

han | do you like him ?

han | just answer me honestly for once.

y/n | so you ARE jealous. hah, busted.

But wait, why would he be jealous ? That makes no sense.

[ 4:14pm ]

han | so what if i’m jealous ?

Your heart stops as a small ‘huh?’ escapes your lips. Yeonjun looks at you with a confused expression, almost develops a mild interest in what made you so flustered. But he guessed it either way because it’s too obvious who’s the only person that has this kind of effect on you.

han | i was the one who asked you out first, it’s not fair !

y/n | ...

y/n | hey, are you drunk ?

[ 4:15pm ]

han | i’m as sober as i can be, enjoy your pretty little date y/n.

When everything’s already a mess, when you’re at a loss for words, Hyunjin’s abrupt call is something else more than just fuel to the fire. “Y/N ! Have you seen Jisung ?” Your roommate sounds alarmed on the other end and your stomach automatically twists into a knot.

“No, I haven’t seen him since lunch… why ?” The uneasy feeling has been ghosting your gut since you received the questionable texts from Jisung, and you’re afraid to hear what Hyunjin’s gonna say next. “What’s wrong ? What happened to him ?” You bombard him with questions after questions, fiddling your fingers nervously in fear.

Yeonjun quickly senses something’s off and reaches his hand outwards. He places his hand over yours gently, rubbing little circles to remind you to calm down. There are a thousand bad scenarios running through your mind like lightning of what could have happened to Jisung. What if he’s about to do something stupid ? What if he’s hurting, and no one ever asked ? What if… it’s all because of you ?

“Hyunjin, just fucking answer me !” You almost snapped, finding the silence on the other line extremely disturbing.

He replies breathlessly, as if he’s already given up. “He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone ?” You can’t believe your own ears at this point.

Hyunjin sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. “Changbin said he hadn’t been home when his shift was supposed to end at 3. Chan said he wasn’t on campus either, nor the band room. We’ve checked everywhere, not his house, not the usual boba place, not even his favorite get-away spots. He ran away, Y/N, no one knows why. And I’m scared..” Your heart instantly drops to the pit of your stomach.

Not even his favorite get-away spots.. We’ve checked everywhere.

But Jisung would never tell them about all of his get-away spots.

eight.

Jisung unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls from his group of friends along with endless texts but his eyes only linger on some particular ones.

[ 7:23pm ]

y/n | can we just talk this out ?

y/n | this is so fucking childish of you.

y/n | I don’t care if you want to kick me out of your life.

y/n | I’m coming for you.

Jisung doesn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing. Basically, he’s emotionally restrained.

Because apparently, life is preposterous. One moment you’re laughing while being pissed off when he annoys the heck out of you. Then later you would ditch him to have yourself wrapped around another guy’s arms. Hours ago, you were on the edge of pushing his limits into the unknown and now you’re being all concerned and worried about him. He feels mildly exasperated partially because you’re playing with his heart, and partially because he allows you to do that.

He has been watching you from behind all this time. He always has so much on his mind that keeps him awake at nights but never really knows how to convey his feelings for you into words. Maybe that’s why J.One can only write love songs in vain. So being the genius person that he is, he thought ( and still think ) that the only way to approach you was to make fun of you. He can only call you questionable nicknames all day because he doesn’t have the heart to actually call you ‘babe’ in a genuine way. He would always end up spitting out something less than appropriate or stick his nose into your business because he can never fathom the courage to say a simple ‘I love you’. Yes, Jisung knows that he’s a coward for making such excuses but the thought of putting his heart into someone else’s hand scares him shitless. Not that he has never gone through a heartbreak before but the scars never really go away.

Honestly, Jisung has never thought that he would end up liking you this much. He still vividly remembers the day that you two met for the first time. It was freshman year highschool, he got signed up for a role in the drama club at the time being thanks to Hyunjin and suddenly he saw you sitting alone in a corner, struggling over a piece of prop for the set.

Even when it’s the awkward phase, you took his breath right away like ‘whoosh’, leaving him utterly speechless when your eyes collide. From then on, you’re the ‘nothing’ that people ask him about whenever he looks like he’s spacing out. You’re the only thing that keeps lingering in his mind, impossible to forget. He finally understands why people are always so giddy about their crush because once you like someone, everything changes. Like how your smile seems to be even brighter than the Sun, how your goofy laugh feels like music to his ears, or how every little thing that you do affects him way too damn much. Woah, he understands why his group of friends said that he’s so whipped for you now.

Jisung doesn’t know what to think or what to feel anymore. He really doesn’t. He hates how you keep switching between ‘the Y/N who hates Jisung with passion’ and ‘the Y/N who genuinely worries about Jisung’. It drives him nuts not knowing how you really feel about him. Jisung swipes his index finger upwards and presses the ‘Airplane Mode’ button from the Control Center settings. He can’t afford having Chan or Minho screaming directly at his ears after when he ran away like that. Maybe he is childish after all.

“Han Jisung !”

Jisung snaps his head backwards to find you standing there, disheveled hair, hands supporting on your knees with a glint of fierceness in your eyes. With the dim source of light from the Moon, you’re glowing under all of the sentimental glory that leaves him completely flustered. He’s really predictable, he thinks. Of course you’d know that he would end up choosing the park where he used to hang out with Seungmin since kindergarten. It’s also where he bawled his eyes out after his first breakup, having you rub little circles on his back and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright.

“What are you doing here ?” He asks soullessly although his heart his yelling at him to fall into your embrace.

“I told you, didn’t I ?” You say, breaths growing more even by the seconds. “I’m coming for you, I don’t care if you’re gonna kick me out of your life because I’m not allowing that.”

Jisung snickers, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You rain-checked on Choi Yeonjun just like that ? Aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna break up with you tomorrow after finding you that you’re rummaging through the entire city to look for me, an absolute bastard who never leaves well enough alone ?”

You shoot him a stern look, brows slightly furrowed. “You didn’t let me finish, how rude. I’m trying to prove a point, don’t you see ? If I really didn’t give two fucks about you then why would I be here ? If I was really dating Choi Yeonjun then I could have just stayed at home and cuddled with him until Hyunjin kicked him out of our apartment. It’s been almost three hours, Jisung. Three fucking hours. I was running from place to place like a psychopath, got lost on some random streets, just to find you. Yes, just for you.”

He squints his eyes at you skeptically. “And your point is ?”

“I care about you.” You don’t even need to consider anything at this point and that has Jisung’s jaw dropped to the ground. “I could never hate you, even if I do, I can’t hate you for the rest of my life for my own good. Even when you call me ‘little cub’ fifty times a day, even when you make me pay for your ride, even when we almost threw hands at each other during lunch break, my feelings for you never change. Not even one bit.” You state confidently, taking long strides towards him.

Jisung looks at you with a blank expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know Y/N. You’re a fucking hot mess. For all I know, you second-guessed most of your decisions in life. What if you decided to pull—“ That’s it, you’re not enduring his ‘what if’-s bullshit any longer.

Without a word, you grab Jisung by the collar and pull him flush against you. When your lips collide with his, it feels like you’re being sent to the Moon and back continuously. Sparks of joy, lust, and mixed emotions ignite inside his heart when you trace your tongue over his then it explodes like a firework that lights up the eerie darkness effortlessly. Jisung slowly gives in and melts into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you closer, feeling your warmth radiating off on his flannels. You’re the first one to pull away, hands trailing behind the nape of his neck. “I can say that giving away my first kiss is enough to prove that the only thing I’ve never second-guessed was liking you.” You say breathlessly, trying to ignore the rouge on your cheeks.

“I am your first kiss ?” He widens his eyes slightly.

You scoff at him while trying to act casual. “Be grateful at least you brat.” Jisung chuckles softly at you, slightly taken aback at your bold action as the feeling of your lips on his chills him to the bones. “Point taken.” At that moment, you quickly realize how his warm brown eyes hold their own galaxy with the stars shining so brightly that makes your heart swell. At that moment, you also realize that Jisung is your Sun because his smile alone can light up the whole celestial sphere. Meanwhile you’re his Moon because no matter what happens, you’ll always be here to brighten him up on the darkest of days.

And you both know that as long as you have each other, you will forever be radiant.

933 notes · View notes

mae-gi-writes · 4 years

Text

Moonlight Sonata (Part 1) | Kevin Moon (TheBoyz Imagine)

A girl forms an unlikely bond with her neighbour; a young violinist who seems to understand her sad songs.

Genre: angst, idk future fluff? and just me fangirling over how BEAUTIFUL AND ETHEREAL Mr.Moon looked in Quasi Una Fantasia AND I HOPE HE NEVER READS MY STORIES GOD I THINK HE’LL JUST CRINGE AND I JUST SJHFDSLJDLSKGHDJ YEAH. YUP. SORRY.

Words: 3K

Part One | Part Two

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

It’s always raining in the space where her heart is supposed to be.

She carries carries it around like a dead weight in her chest, unknown to the world, going about her business in her usual manner so that no one will notice. And she doesn’t want them to, because she fears that allowing the words to float out of her mouth will make the words tangible somehow, threatening her similar to someone pointing a gun at her temple.

No matter how much she tries to comb through her memory, she can’t really pinpoint where everything started going wrong. One minute, she had been the fine, carefree child who smiled and lived life to the best of her ability, and the next, she’s falling off the edge of a cliff and plunging towards a dark hole of misery she now calls her reality.

But it doesn’t really matter now does it? Considering that she can’t seem to crawl back out, fingers slipping every time she tries to hold on to the strands of hope. They are fleeting clouds hanging over her head and barely within her reach, entities that seem so close yet so far away at the same time.

Her days are unsurprisingly monotonous. She ploughs through her usual routine, opening up the small restaurant where she works, a quaint Hawaiian spot named “Banhana” decked with wooden furniture and colourful array of artificial plants that adorn the insides. She takes orders when it gets busy, but usually hides out in the kitchen washing the dishes, leaving it to her co-worker, Jacob, to entertain the customers. It doesn’t seem like he minds though. He’s a literal ray of sunshine that carries happiness around like a drug. Except. even that doesn’t help her. Not really.

In fact, it makes her feel sick.

She usually gets home around ten on weeknights, takes a shower and jumps straight into bed. On this particular night however, she is surprised to hear a soft, unfamiliar melody coming from her small balcony.

Curious, she tiptoes over and pokes her head out. What she sees forms a crease between her eyebrows on the terrace beside hers sits a young man, legs precariously dangling over the edge of the balcony with a violin tucked under his chin. He’s so close to the edge that one wrong move may cause him to plummet to his death.

But his stature, the way he holds himself, with straight shoulders and his chin tilted upwards, exudes full trust and confidence in himself as he keeps on playing, the melody dancing through the night air with a sombre, sad tone that causes something inside her chest to tremble with emotion.

It’s beautiful and poetic, but dark, imprinted with the kind of sorrow that she can’t really explain.

Before she knows it, she steps forward to close the terrace doors behind her. The sound alerts him. He swivels his head around, a look of unsurprising indifference on his face as she takes notes of the way his thin lips purse, eyebrows furrowing and his dainty nose un-scrunching from his earlier concentration. He must not be that much older, she decides as her eyes skim over his white dress shirt, partly untouched, and his dark dress pants that suggest that he’s just come back from a formal outing.

That’s not what really catches her attention though. She wouldn’t have spared him a glance if she hadn’t seen his eyes. Because in those dark feline orbs, she sees the same sadness lingering in his pupils, almost like she’s staring at her own reflection. Sad, lost, tired from life itself.

Something in her heart squeezes tight.

“Hi.”

His voice, the softest of tenors that border on the line of soprano, vibrates through the chilly night air. Impulsively, the girl’s arms weave around her middle, hugging herself as she keeps gazing at him in silence.

That doesn’t seem to bother him, for he continues in a murmur, “Apartment eleven?”

She nods once. He dimly reminds her of an ethereal moonlit prince, what with his curly raven locks and the steel cross earring glinting whenever it catches in the moonlight.

He turns back to lift his violin and, with deft and practised precision, resumes his song. It’s soulful, raw, painted with a sadness that prompts her to sit down at the stray chair she’d forgotten to store inside while she allows the musical notes to wash through her like medicine.

It’s not enough to fill that hollow space in her chest. But it’s enough to dim it to a softer, duller ache. When the melody ends, she finds that she can breathe a little easier, heart a little less tight.

“Why are you so sad?”

His question causes her eyes to fly open. She hasn’t expected him to be so direct.

Sure enough, when her eyes flutter back up to lock with his, he’s already gazing at her, head tilted to examine her features in a way that makes her flinch back on reflex.

It’s like he knows. Like he sees right through her with an insistence to understand the complexity going on behind her dark mahogany eyes.

She shrugs, finding herself to sit a little straighter. He waits a moment before answering, hands busying themselves with his violin, “you have that look in your eyes, you know?”

Oh, she knows all right. Her chest swells with emotion and she feels the lump inside her throat.

“What look?” her question is a murmur. But the man hears her, and his almond probe hers with such intensity that it causes her breath to catch in her throat.

She feels exposed, naked. And she really doesn’t like it.

"I don’t know, like you have this sadness that constantly follows you around that you can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you try,” he murmurs.

“How would you know what my sadness looks like? Or feels like? Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Oh no, I know,” his face softens, “because I feel it too. You--You look a lot like me.”

Her hands find purchase in her lap, wringing into the folds of her sweater and ignoring the spark of pain igniting through her chest at the thought of being caught.

He can see it. he sees her, just like she sees him. That thought alone is terrifying.

“You...You see it too, right?” he asks.

She nods.

They lapse into silence for the rest of the night, not that there’s much to be said when two tired souls are roaming through the night sky to keep each other company as they wade through the thick layers of sadness coiled so tight around their hearts that they feel like suffocating. She isn’t really sure when she falls asleep but the next thing she knows, her eyes are fluttering open only to squint at the rays of stark ten-in-the-morning sun.

She throws a hand up to block the light from blinding her, before noticing a yellow post-it note hanging off her side of the railing shared with the said young man.

She picks it up. There’s nothing but a singular smiley face staring back at her and her own lips can’t help but mirror its expression.

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

A week goes by before she sees him again. This time, it’s around mid-afternoon and he’s playing a remixed version of Tchaicovsky’s “Nutcracker”. The notes are playful and light, a warm embrace of musical comfort as she slowly finds herself humming to the tune from her kitchen.

When she pads out to the terrace with two bowls of fresh fruit -- one for him as well -- he only nods in silent appreciation. They eat in silence while watching the sun descend in the horizon like molten lava.

“Something good happen?” she can’t help but ask quietly, so quietly he barely catches her words as they drift through the wind.

He looks at her, curiosity filling his face and she shrugs, “your music. It’s...lighter. Happier.”

His lips curl up in the faintest of smiles, barely there as he mimics her shrug, “it just gets better sometimes. Better days. I like those. It’s easier to breathe. Easier to think and do stuff.”

She nods in understanding. His words resonate with her more than she likes to admit and somehow, it helps to know that she’s understood without being judged, without someone actually knowing her. He doesn’t seem to provide her with solutions, he just listens, keeps her company in her silence.

She appreciates that.

“I wish I could have those more often,” she finds herself saying.

“Don’t we call? They come and go so spontaneously, so quickly. Like fireflies, they slip right through your fingers if you’re not quick enough.”

“I’d like to catch one, one day,” she answers, “a firefly, I mean.”

“They’re not easy to catch, but definitely worth the struggle, worth the extra mile you gotta go to look for them.”

His face, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, is alight with a life, as though his profile is surrounded by a halo. Dark eyes sparkling a lighter caramel and grinning at her like an amused child. She finds his mood contagious and smiles back hesitantly.

“I’ll try my best,” she murmurs in response, and as they admire the sky turning into a blanket full of stars, they both know that she’s not only talking about fireflies.

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

It becomes second nature for her to look out onto her terrace to see whether he’s there or not and while she knows that she shouldn’t be so dependent on his presence, she can’t help herself but find in him so much beauty, so much hope, that she constantly lives for the days when she stumbles into her flat and gets serenaded by his violin that greet her. It’s like she’s actually coming home to something and for a while, it really is the only thing that she looks forward to all day.

His music is deep and classical most of the time, playing over and over again as though he’s constantly practicing until he gets the notes perfectly right, until the rhythm is part of him completely. Then, on a few occasions, his melody would lighten, become upbeat and jazzy. It’s during these times that she’d find herself bobbing her head along, twirling around as she watches over the eggs sizzling in her pan, tapping her feet and swaying her hips when she’d be scrubbing her living room floor.

"Eggs again?” he asks when she settles onto her chair which is now being in constant use.

“Protein,” she mumbles through a mouthful.

“But what about cholesterol?”

"Then so be it, let me die.”

“Death by eggs.”

A snort erupts from her before she can stop it, and he soon joins in on her laughter.

She catches him talking to himself one day during the middle of the night. Or, to be more accurate, in the early hours of the morning.

“Who are you talking to?”

He jumps, turning to her with a guilty look on his face, “what? No one.”

"Don’t lie.”

“Okay, fine. I was talking to my violin. So what?”

“You were talking...to your violin?”

“Why yes, she’s very sensitive. Got into a bit of a mood because I didn’t clean her yesterday and now,” he lifts his chin to show her the bruising as a result, “look what I have.”

“But that’s because you play too much--”

“No no, me and my violin have some unfinished business.”

She isn’t sure what to call this kind of relationship. Sure, they’re neighbours but she won’t go as far as call him a friend, considering that they barely know each other. Heck, she realizes that she doesn’t even know his name!

But then, when she comes home one day to nothing but an impaling silence, she can’t help but feel a flicker of worry coating her stomach. She tries not to think too much about it at first, telling herself that maybe it’s just because he’s tired and went to bed early that night, or that maybe he’s out spending time with his friends.

Her concern keeps growing as more days pass by and still there’s no sign of the said raven-haired young man that looks like he’s just walked out of a fairytale book. She tries not to overthink but even her job isn’t enough to keep her mind from wandering, finding herself conjuring up impossible scenarios while scrubbing the dishes, so much so that she keeps getting reprimanded by the manager for her sloppy work.

She knows she shouldn’t try invading on his privacy. Maybe there’s something that’s going on with him, maybe he’s trying to figure things out on his own. But the worry keeps consuming her, eats at her raw until she has no other choice but to go up to his apartment and knock onto the door.

Not surprised to find that there’s no response, she finds herself desperate enough to jump over her terrace onto his, before knocking onto his terrace doors.

Still, nothing. Cupping her hands around her face to peek inside, she can’t quite make out the room shrouded in darkness. But when she tries opening the door, it slides away with ease, which does nothing to unravel the sudden knot that tightens in her chest.

She takes a few, unsure steps, opening her mouth to call him when it dawns upon her that she still doesn’t know his name. Gosh, she feels like slapping herself. Definitely next time. There is silence in his flat, which has similar arrangements to hers; with the casual black and white kitchenette that gives view to the dinner table, a dark-coloured couch and a tv squished to the other side with a room leading off to his bedroom, and while she expects it to be slightly messy and lived in, it’s surprising at what little she finds of his personal belongings. Everything seems in order -- a little too much in order -- and there’s barely any sign of life. Not even a discarded pair of slippers littering the ground or a forgotten mug onto the table counter. Only a lone, dark jacket had been previously tossed onto the couch.

Then, her ears perk up at the sound of sniffling. She halts in her steps, straining to hear where it’s coming from.

Bedroom, she thinks, almost like there’s someone sick, someone--

someone crying.

Tiptoeing over to the said bedroom and gingerly poking her head in so as not to startle the young man inside, it takes her a few seconds to adjust to the darkness of the room, before she catches sight of a crumbled figure at the foot of an unmade bed.

It’s him. Her heart twists at the sight. He looks broken, so fragile, swamped in-between layers of his blankets that he’s tucked himself into as if trying to find some semblance of comfort. She can’t help but feel her heart break with every shaky inhale of his shoulders. But before she can say anything, his head whips up in alarm and he throws her a red-rimmed, wide-eyed stare.

“What--” he chokes upon his words, sounding muffled due to his clogged up nose, “what are you doing here?”

His voice is thick with emotion that he tries so hard to restrain, bloodshot eyes casting her small glances before averting them like he’s ashamed of himself. She isn’t really sure what to do at first, surprised at finding him in such a state even when she’s seen the broken pieces of his countenance so vividly at the border of his irises. But she hasn’t imagined that she’d see him like this, looking defeated and lost and like someone has shattered his soul to pieces.

So she does the only thing she can. Approaching him slowly so as not to scare him off, the said young man buries his face back into the cradle of his arms, adamantly avoiding her at all costs if possible. But she only sits down beside him, finds a piece of the blanket before one of her hands reach out to pat his shoulder.

"You’re okay,” she murmurs, although she knows deep down that this is not what he wants to hear, not right now anyway, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

It takes a few seconds for his shoulders to start shaking. But then, he breaks into full out sobs, body trembling like a newborn fawn as he cries and cries and cries endlessly as the girl does nothing but smooth a hand over his shoulder, down his back, up again in a motion that she hopes is comforting while trying not to focus on how heartbroken he sounds. He cries like he’s in pain, like someone has taken a knife and is continuously plunging it straight into his heart and she’d be lying to say that it doesn’t cause her own heart to clench in sympathy as the room fills up once more with nothing but his tears.

He calms down after a while and falls silent beside her, so silent that she fears he’s tired himself out to sleep. Then, he speaks.

“How?”

“Hm?” she blinks at him, confused.

“How did you--” he hiccups, words still muffled against his arms, “how did you get in?”

“Your terrace door was open.”

A moment of silence stretches between the pair, before he turns his face to her, still leaning against his arms and she tries not to let her shock paint over her face at how utterly fragile he looks in that very moment. Her hand can’t help but reach out and push a stray strand of his raven hair away from his face, chest wound so tight she feels as though she might cry too.

"Feel better?” she murmurs.

He lifts his shoulder into a one-armed shrug, “Yeah,” his lips press into a thin line, thinking for a moment, before he continues, “my family, they’re back in Vancouver. That’s where I come from. They--They sent me here to become a professional violinist, thought that I’d make it here because I already had the scholarship.”

She isn’t really certain why he’s divulging all this personal information and a thought inside her wonders whether he’s drunk. But there’s something about crying that makes one more vulnerable, that allows all defences to go down so that the truth spills out without effort.

“And it’s good, you know? Everything’s going really well. I’m doing great in terms of academics. I’ve made a small group of friends. It could be worse. But,” his voice can’t help but crack, “I--I miss them. I miss home,” another sob croaks out of him, “I--I want to go home.”

The tears are silent this time as they roll down his face, traces of silvery light against his cheekbones, down to his jaw and dripping off his shirt sleeve. Still, she keeps patting his arm, biting her lip to stop herself from tearing up at the way his sadness seems to seep through her, into her bones as sympathy surges through her loins like an ocean swelling against the current of a sudden storm.

“And I--I can’t tell them,” he whispers brokenly, “I can’t, because they’ve done so so much. They did this for me, and I--”

His words are broken up by another silent sob and she notices how he bites his lip in an attempt to stop himself, and her hand squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s totally alright to feel this way,” she murmurs unsurely, not really sure what to say to make him feel better, “it’s definitely not your fault.”

“Yeah but--but they want this for me, right? I don’t want to disappoint them, after everything--”

“You would never disappoint them,” she cuts him off firmly, “if anything, I’m sure they’re proud of how much you’ve achieved already. You’ve done so, so much. They’re all so proud of you, I’m sure. And it’s normal to miss them, or to feel homesick. You’re so far away and yet, here you are, so strong. You’re so strong, okay? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

While she’s kicking herself for not having anything else other than clichéd lines to tell him to make him feel better, it seems to work for the young man. Slowly but surely, he falls silent as his tears dry up and after some time, leans his head against her shoulder, probably worn out and tired from having cried so much as a peaceful silence falls over the room, with only his soft, steady breaths to keep her company.

-----

Part 2 will be up soon! Stay tuned!

How are you guys liking it so far?

- maegi

98 notes · View notes

vynnyal · 4 years

Text

Throwing random thoughts, headcanons, and a variety of pasta at the wall (but only those having to do with vessels and/or their biology this time): The Thrilling Third Installment™

...aka pretending i can be dark and dramatic jskhdfd

Thk's larger form is not the standard, but the exception. Thk was cited as being "raised and trained to prime form", which people take to mean pk assisted in the vessel's natural growth. However, that conclusion leaves a lot of unanswered questions, most important of which being “then what about Ghost?” In short, I think that train of thought is backwards. Vessels can't grow- they are ageless, and immortal. We know this due to Ghost, despite living as long if not longer than thk, being completely unchanged over the years. The only thing pk trained into "prime form" was thk’s mind and fighting prowess. Their body... well, I think it was mutated. Most likely either directly by pk, or ordered by him- and with the shenanigans happening over in the sanctum, I wouldn't be surprised if Soul was involved, too. In any case, it was in no means natural. Vessels are corpses reanimated by void; neither corpses nor void tend to make drastic changes on their own all that often. Whether pk predicted the vessel’s “issues” and intended to manually “upgrade” them from the beginning, it's hard to say. But... yeah. Unless Ghost goes out of their way to make themselves grow- if its even possible, now that pk is gone- its fairly safe to say, they never will.

...with that in mind, we are promptly gonna ignore that for the rest of this post lmaooo

Grown-up vessels wouldn't look like thk; while they are described as being raised into "prime form"... prime form, to whom? Rather than looking like an idealized pk soldier, it sounds much more fitting that they’d have an entirely different, natural adult form. Consider: their cloaks being longer and fuller, perhaps filling out into something with a more practical use to their “species”. Better yet, they could even grow up to be more beast-like. Feral vessels, YEhaW

The black egg temple is cited as being "built to sustain [vessels]", yet it can't be their lifespan that is sustained. Rather, it seems the egg is specifically designed to keep the radiance from tearing thk apart, physically and/or mentally. Ngl its p obvious, but worth noting.

Sorta-au where Ghost’s shade has 8 eyes, and/or is generally all-around more cryptid-looking.

@ the sharpshadow charm and the strange, 6-eyed creature their shade turns into: kudos to this post, they bring up something super interesting- the creature not only resembles the Shade Lord, but the lord outright becomes it during the Embrace the Void cutscene.

makes me respect the ol’ civilization a whole lot more if a single charm can turn a baby shade into a baby lord.

The concept of finding ghosts unconscious body, laying next to a corpse, while they battle in their dreams. Alt: when ghost enters the dream realm, their shade leaves their shell... And protects their body from harm.

If steel soul mode is taken as canon, just how did ghost and the shade meet? Alt: Ghost may never have “met” it at all, as it technically doesn’t exist in that mode- instead, its more of a metaphor than an actual entity.

What the vessels looked like- or were supposed to look like- before the void. Alt: a story following a child, alive and untouched, that somehow managed to be spared. They could even have a gender. Alt alt: the void intentionally spared them for some purpose, or even out of simple kindness- or at least, something that resembles kindness.

Re: the shade inexplicably having a nail: all the vessel's swords are crafted from “will-bearing rock”- of which i’ve come to lovingly call living stone- and as such, are of void themselves. That's how the shade seems to conjure up its own copy; it merely shapes it, from the ground, using void. And, while more of a stretch, Ghost’s nail being some sort of living stone/pale ore alloy could explain just how Ghost can do seemingly pretty crazy things with an otherwise ordinary nail. Better, while 100% a baseless hc, its material might actually enable Ghost to build it up and modify it to suite their size as they grow older. finally, a logical reason adult Ghost has an adult-sized nail-claymore. hdsfghjfghdsjf

On that same thought: Ghost outright invented the "art" of manipulating- or creating- living stone to make their nail. ...gimme a sec. The other escaped vessels have nails, too, right? Either meaning they also discovered this ability... or that theres some legitimate ground for the “vessel gang” hc. Or, yanno, i’m reading too much into Ari’s sprites but sHHhh

How did all the vessels know to race to the top? They seemed to be falling merely because they had just been born and had literal, actual baby strength; yet not only did they inexplicably risk everything competing to the top, they somehow knew death was waiting if they lost. Alt: pk just, bringing a fucking megaphone and telling them like a sports announcer.

What if Ghost made it, and instead of falling, they managed to joined thk at the lip? What would pk do? Push them off the edge??? Or just adopt them both?? Oh fuck au where they're raised as twin sacrifices. Or worse yet, they’re raised unequally, and one is trained only as an afterthought. As a backup.

Alternatively, pk keeps all the vessels au, only a few years later when they're grown. Pk now has a literal army of pure knights. Radiance is fucked.

Hm. If vessels were fully coherent entities from the moment of birth, why was there a crib in the white palace? Did... did they use it? I have a feeling team cherry made that asset before the abyss scene lmaooo alt: they did, uh, use the crib. Cue a very awkward scene of thk, clearly not a normal baby, staring at wl with like... idk, the poofy baby hat and pacifier. I can’t tell if the image is more funny or more sad rn shdfgfjsdgg

The og notes that inspired this post, in case my rambling makes more sense (and w/o the awful comic hjsfgjsdfhj): Oh oh OH i GET it now. The void is all about "will" and whatnot, right? And shades are "fragments of a lingering will"- will, like the one you leave after your death, but instead of inheritance its the vessels' desires...last regrets.... DAMN team cherry, that symbolism is clever as heck. That took me a while. Kinda funny how a will is, technically, a person's last regrets Like I knew they were last regrets but I didn't understand WHY. Duh, it's because they're literally Made Of Will. They are the vessel's "wills". I'm so stupid.

Ghost, walking thru the abyss, getting increasingly fed up / freaked out, ducking into a crack in the wall. They follow the crack into the Scream Chamber, pause, then exhale in relief that this was EXACTLY what they needed.

Ghost's shade rolling up its void-sleeves like “fuck it, ima defeat thk myself”

Why was thk's sword there? Was its pedestal decayed? Did it fall from their body? Was it place there as an afterthought, or hurriedly? alt: taking thk's sword before freeing them, but doing the mom thing like you're grounding them hdhfjchjch

I can’t believe it just occured to me now, but... as objectivley stupid as the vessel’s test was, Ghost... technically came in second place. What if that whole scene was a metaphor? Because really, it’s just too silly to take seriously. To do so isn’t too far fetched, either; many other elements in the game’s story are better taken as symbolic or metaphorical, anyways. Take the PoP cutscene- while it could’ve been a literal moment, where they just happened to find themselves standing around and took the moment to appreciate each other... imo it makes much more sense to read it as the concept of their faint ~forbidden love~ and parental pride itself. Or, better yet, the scene at the end of the 4th pantheon. Sorry, but I severely doubt that was an actual event. What I’m trying to get at is the significance of “second place” in the cutscene. My brain is too fried to chase down any other possible connections to this theme rn (if thats even what the theme is), but even without proof, the theory smooths out a few interesting tidbits related to just how Ghost could tough it out when all others failed. All except for #1, anyway. Either way I’m just happy to take this as an excuse to pretend that cutscene didn’t literally happen because like, l m a o

The story of a small group of vessels as they work together to escape hallownest. (aka the aforementioned vessel gang hc... im sure theres a more formal name but you get the idea). Its impossible to tell how long it took them to discover that near-invisible hole, the last exit remaining after the king ordered the abyss to be sealed up. Once they did, however, the remaining vessels were quick to make a desperate scramble to escape- only for the entrance to suddenly crumble shut, far, far too soon. The remaining 8 slowly made their way through deepnest, their numbers quickly dwindling as the jouney started to take its toll. The group was nearly wiped out by those terrible, spiney-legged creatures that used their own kinship against them. Only three finally escaped the deep, yet only two made it through the basin- the third, largest sibling, left to fight alone againt a hopeless battle, just to buy the others time. It was in greenpath, so close yet so far to their goal, that the second succumbed to the infection. It was a mercy killing, that nail through the heart. The last, after all of that, finally made their way to the very precipice of howling cliffs, hesitating for just a moment to gaze out upon the still-fresh ruins of hallownest. But only for a moment, before Ghost jumps down to begin their journey beyond this wretched place.

A vessel running from its shade as it tirelessly pursues them, the vessel refusing to put it to rest.

tw: suicide, + personal on main

Ugh ugh ugh ugh Either thk was fully conscious and in terrible pain for all those years... or they couldn’t feel anything at all. The former is horrible, but imagining thk waking up, chained, unable to do anything but wait for Ghost to heed their call? Did they turn their nail on themselves to help Ghost, end the pain, or some awful mix of both? For someone who has personally dealt with close friends and family that struggled with suicide themselves, hollowknight is one of the worst horror stories I've ever seen. And the fact that the story is so personal, so open to interpretation? The fact that each character is so genuine yet vague enough to be read completely differently to someone else’s biases? Its why hollow knight- the game, and the character- will forever be one of the most powerful stories to me.

in short, good LORD THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING SAD

#hollow knight #Thonking abt hollowknight #blabbing.txt #i should probably proof-read this.... uuuaaaah #anyways #@ that last one: i had to take a week-long break after tiso died. so like. you can imagine my reaction to thk #other than that some of these are VERY OLD #and dsfhhfdj the test one literally just occurred to me #sweet catharsis.... fuck you pk....#also.... yeah. vessels have a p bad time all considered #ghost is like 'i know i look 7 but im actually 1000 years old!'#then hornet punts them into the sun #OH WHAUFHDFKJ

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allet-art · 4 years

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Forgiveness (SUF fanfic)

Word Count: ~5.4k

Summary: The weight of Steven’s ‘accident’ begins to weigh on the gems after his corruption is dealt with... and there is time to be mad and to forgive.

Characters: Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaren, Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet, Jasper

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, Individual dealing with emotional problems, Coping

Read on AO3

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Pearl wraps her arms around her middle, fingers clutching into her thin frame. “I just… How? Why? I still… Can’t believe it.”

She shakes her head into the tension. Connie, Garnet and Amethyst are in the living room as well, sharing her emotions.

Steven was staying with Greg in the van while he was still cooling down from his ‘meltdown’. On the morning of the next day, the diamonds and Spinel felt safe enough to leave, and everything else settled into it’s place.

And yet, some questions remain unanswered.

Pearl shakes her head again. “Is it selfish of me? I mean… Rose never… Did anything like this. Not even as Pink, I spoke to Volly, even as a diamond she never… and he...” She sighs, tired, closing her eyes. “We should be there for him right now. I should be there for him, but… how?”

Garnet, still processing silently, places her hand on Pearl’s shoulder to steady her. Pearl gives her a small, but grateful smile.

Amethyst shrugs, clutching her knees to her chest with her arms wrapped around them, staring into one of the wood walls.

Connie speaks up, carefully. “I’m sure it’s… it wasn’t that bad. He said it was an accident, right?”

Pearl nods a little, and Connie goes on. “Well, come on. This is Steven we’re talking about.”

Connie’s gears are turning as she tries to figure something out, think of some way to fit this information into the world in a way that makes sense.

“If he jumped over a river to show off to her, and Jasper decided to one-up him by jumping off a cliff and getting herself hurt, he’d still say it was entirely his fault, you know?”

Connie’s voice tries to be perhaps a little too humorous for the situation, trying to ease the tension, but the other gems don’t seem to mind that. Pearl nods a little again, but Amethyst looks ready to growl at anyone who came close to her. Garnet remains stiff.

Pearl tries to partially unwrap herself from her own arms. “You’re… you’re right, maybe we’re all just… spinning this into something worse than it really is. He did say it was an accident.”

Her voice is only a tad calmer, but she tries desperately to sound casual. Connie tries to smile, never good at the fake smiles, and goes on.

“Yeah, yeah! It was just an accident. That’s what he said, and he’s just, blaming himself for everything again.”

Everything falls quiet again for a few moments. That sounds nice. That, however, still doesn’t quite cover all of his reactions, all of his breakdown that they saw, the crazed, darting eyes while he spat out everything he’d done.

There was something more, and they knew. It was nice to hold on to that hope, but if Jasper really had just done something stupid, he wouldn’t have reacted that way. It wouldn’t have broken him that much.

“Or,” Connie speaks up into the quiet again, feeling doubt creeping into the air, knowing that the gems felt more like they were lying to themselves if they tried to believe just that. “Or he tried to show something to her, and… missed?” She pauses, then quickly adds, “he’s not very proficient in precise strikes. He probably didn’t want to hurt her, just, show off or something?”

Connie doesn’t quite believe herself. But the thought that Steven would shatter someone, while wanting to hurt them... it didn’t fit. That’s not the Steven they know, that’s not something he would do. They trust him more than that. He never wants to hurt anyone.

And yet, another unspoken problem was what he said about White Diamond. The way he said it. Connie still shivers thinking of it, of the motion he made with his hands to demonstrate, like he’d done it before, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he’d been thinking about it, in that intense, late-night overthinking way until you know every detail, until you’re just a tiny step away from executing it.

Connie feels the pressure on her shoulders. She’s supposed to look after his human side. She’s supposed to be the one who knew him the best, who knew what he needed and how to help him. Of course they still love him. Of course they’ll still take care of him.

That fact could fully co-exist with the desire to know exactly what happened, with the thought that maybe, they had a right to know. This shed a different light on him, one way or another.

---

“You…” Connie starts, voice more confused and uncertain than anything else “you killed her.”

He cringes a little. “I didn’t mean to! I just wanted…”, he pauses, breathes out in defeat that there is no way this is going to sound any less bad than it already does, “to win.”

Deafening silence hangs between them, before Connie’s soft whisper carries into the breeze. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He closes his eyes. No. He does know. “To prove I’m… not weak.”

He knows how that sounds, knows that he has no possible explanation that could soothen any of this. The deeper they dug, the worse it got.

“To whom?”

“I don’t know!” Frustration seeps into his voice, making him stop and breathe for a moment before continuing. “To her. But also… to me.”

“You’re not weak.” She murmurs, looking over him.

He lets out a small, dry laugh, like one would have to a sarcastic joke.

Suddenly she sits up. “You’re not weak! You’re really, really strong. Steven, you’re literally half diamond!”

He doesn’t look over to her, just keeps staring at the sky. “Does me a lot of good, doesn’t it? I cry over dropping my lunch.”

“That’s not weakness.” She says firmly, looking down at him.

He jerks up as well now, annoyed. “It’s not? Really? Standing alone in the middle of nowhere crying over a mistake I made, that just proves how little I actually amount to on my own?”

Connie goes on in a similar tone. “Never crying isn’t strength! Strength is being patient and fair to others, and you are. You are because you know how bad it can feel to not have that!”

He shakes his head, letting a thought he usually keeps to himself spill out. “I’m just a pushover.”

“You’re not. You can fight!”

“Connie, what’s the point in being able to fight if I can’t hurt a fly!”

She goes quiet, looking out to the ocean. “But you can.” She ignores the twinge of guilt she feels at what she’s about to say. “And you did.”

He goes quiet, staring down at his own hands.

Connie lays her palm on his knee carefully. “Strength isn’t being able to hurt people. You know that. Nobody thinks you’re weak.”

“Jasper did.”

“And you proved her wrong. And now she thinks you’re strong.”

He looks up, unsure where she’s going with this.

“Does it feel better? Now that you proved it?��

He stares back down at his hands, clenches them to fists. His voice is suddenly barely audible, tension making it come out breathless, pressed out with a deep kinda of anger, frustration.

“Why are you so sure the answer is no?”

Connie frowns, only growing more worried. She pulls her hand back, an uncertainty spreading through her.

He releases his hands but doesn’t lift his gaze. “You think I’m some kind of perfect star child, don’t you? Like I would die to do the right thing in a heartbeat, and not even feel bad about it!” He lifts his gaze, gesturing, a mixture of pained humor and anger. “Like it would be my wish to break myself to pieces for everyone and then be happy about it!”

Connie goes quiet for a while before speaking up again, her hand going over the grass between them. “So how does it feel?”

His posture relaxes a little in defeat. “Not as horrible as it should.”

He finishes, he expects her to be angry, to be mad, to tell him he’s not the person she thought he was, or that he’s grown colder, or lost his heart, but she doesn’t.

“But how does it?”

He keeps his voice flat, too loud to be soft. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because… because I know you.” Something akin to hurt seeps into her voice, quiet and unsure. “Because we’ve always told eachother everything.”

He looks at her, hopeful eyes looking up at his in search for the truth. He feels something in his chest melt when her voice sounds like she’s close to crying, not over what he’s done but over the fact that he won’t tell her.

His shoulders relax and his face softens, and he feels the need to take her hands in his and soothe her and wish he wouldn’t be causing her this much hurt.

“I’m not… sure?” His voice is softer now, gentler, even if he doesn’t know what to say.

Finally he gives in to the feeling, deciding if she doesn’t want it she can just pull away. So he takes her hand off the grass softly and wraps both his soft, smooth hands around hers, her skin tougher, rougher from the sword fighting and sports and hard work, his protected always by his shield, his magic.

She moves her other hand to the bundle as well, and Steven’s hands hold both of them as if he’s holding the most important thing in the world, as if a wrong move could scare her away or hurt her.

Steven starts, talking softer now. “I don’t know if there’s… anything I can say to make this right. I don’t think there’s anything there to make it right at all. So I don’t understand why you’re still here.”

He presses his hands together over hers gently, emotion filling his chest. “I want to- I mean, it’s hard. The truth. But if you want to know, then… I want to tell you. But it’s not pretty.” Then, like a realization, as if it’s something new, “I’m… not perfect.”.

“Of course you’re not perfect.” She turns her hands, holding him back but still comforted by the feeling of their heavy warmth around hers. “People… make mistakes. Of course you’re determined by which ones you make and don’t make. But you’re also determined in how you deal with them.”

He wants to be honest, so he pushes the feeling out of his chest and to his throat. “It was something I could have avoided,” he murmurs, “but I didn’t. I… I don’t have good reasons for why it happened, I was pent up, and angry, and curious.” He looks up at her again. “Isn’t that horrible? Curious what my powers would do to her? Tell me.” He presses their hands together a bit more. “Tell me that it’s horrible. I know it is.”

“Steven...” Connie has to collect her thoughts, weigh them. She shouldn’t excuse what happened. But the person cradling her hands already knows that.

“What happened isn’t good, but… you’re willing to make up for it, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! But I can’t always fix everything. We were lucky to have the diamonds on our side. If this had happened sooner, then...” He shakes his head. “This is bad. The fact that I can… lose myself like that.” He takes a deep breath. “But it was still me. I think that’s… hardest to grasp.”

“You were powered up though, right?”

“Yeah, but… powering up doesn’t make me someone else. It’s still me. I can still hold back. That’s the worst part.” Pushing the words out hurts, makes him want to curl up and hide and wait for it all to cool down instead, but he can’t. He wants to be honest. If anybody deserves to know, it’s Connie. “I chose to...” He gulps down the rest of the sentence, unable to bring it over his tongue.

She lets out a small sigh. “I know.”

They sit in silence, hands still wrapped, the roar of the ocean waves accompanying them.

Steven’s thoughts run in circles, over and over, until he finally speaks up again. “Connie?”

“Hm?”

“Do you… still like me?”

She smiles. “Of course I still like you.”

“But I’m dangerous. I hurt someone. Badly.”

“You also brought peace to the galaxy, and your family consists mostly of people who are dangerous and have hurt others.” Her more cheerful tone fades as she goes on. “Don’t get me wrong, this is… new. I mean, you didn’t change the moment it happened, I think we just… found out something new about you, that came to light because life changes around you. Because you’ve been changing gradually, for a long time.”

He sits quietly as she continues.

“And I don’t mean to say that this is you, or something that you do now! Or that you changed for the worse. I think growing up the way you did, and all these new powers… you were left directionless, more so than any of us thought you were. I had no idea Jasper and you could end up this toxic. And you can still change. It’s your choice to never let it get that way again, but...”

“But what?”

“But not becoming that way again means changing.”

“Of course. I just have to avoid Jasper, and avoid using my powers-”

“No.” Her firm tone cuts him off. “That’s exactly what you were doing before. That’s not changing, that’s reusing your old strategy.”

“But then how do I-?”

“It happened, because you felt weak. So maybe you can work on feeling strong, in a way that doesn’t base itself on hurting others. I’m sure the gems can help with that.”

“I don’t know if they can.”

Connie finally gets her hands out of the warm wrap and intertwines hers with his. “They can support you, and I can support you. But the changing part will have to be your choice, and will involve you working for that goal. You don’t want what happened with Jasper to happen again, do you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But?”

“But nothing has made me feel better other than what I did with Jasper in… in months! Maybe years.”

“There’s other things that will make you feel better. Like talking about it. We can help you find something, but only if you work on it too.” She grows a bit more stern. “And continue therapy.”

He looks up from their hands, and Connie goes on. “You don’t have to sacrifice feeling better for moral rightness. You just need to find something else to feel good with. Healing is hard. But at the end, you’ll hopefully feel better, even better than you did when fighting. Much better.”

His voice is nothing more than a gentle, hopeful breath. “You think so?”

“Mhm.”

They sit quietly before Steven speaks up again. “Thanks, Connie.”

She looks up to him even though he’s looking away.

“I think just this helped already.”

---

Pearl stands silent and relaxed in the midst of her room. With a precise pose, a collection of shields she once kept for Rose rise to the surface.

She opens her eyes, cold white fingertips going over the rough and rusted metal. She sees her own reflection, ice blue eyes staring back at her.

Calculated, is what new gems of the rebellion would call her. Certainly they believed Rose to be in charge and struggled to understand Pearl wasn’t just an accessory for their leader, but once they saw her in battle, that changed. She made sure of it. She proved herself, to every single one.

Unlike everyone else, she knew Rose. Knew Pink. She could have never shattered gems of her own court, of the other diamond’s courts. Pearl thought she understood at the time, because they were to return once Earth was free.

She remembered Rose’s silent musing long after they’d met Garnet, remembers the day she came up to Pearl and told her all gems are precious. Of course they were, Pearl knew that. No, she said, it’s different. How could it be different? Each gem had a purpose, so they were precious in their own way, like metal rings of a chain.

Jasper came so close to poofing Rose. Pearl knew what she had to do. She fought, she dodged, she cried and yelled and screamed and reformed so fast it was painful, knowing Rose’s form was trembeling behind her. She could not last long.

She remembered how distant Pink had been to Jasper. Yellow’s favorite, but not Pink’s. Pearl could figure why. Of all gems, she thought at the time, Jasper least resembeled her in every way.

She didn’t seem good in her court. She was rough. She’d caused the fall of many rebelling gems, caused many of Rose’s tears, and Pearl lived to fight and hate her, for the pain she put Rose through, for the pain she forced Pearl through.

It was in her luck that Rose managed to catch her off guard while the quartz was getting increasingly annoyed at taking so long to defeat a pearl. Poofed, and Pearl thought, finally. They both collapsed.

Pearl rose first and moved quickly. She was doing Rose a favor, after all. Preventing her tears, her sadness, and with that lighting up her own world in color. And yet Rose stopped her, and despite all her efforts, it took Pearl a human lifespan to fully understand why.

Even now she doubts whether her strength at the time could have been enough to break a gem. Would Rose have asked it at the time, though, she knew her form would have somehow learned to adjust, for her, no matter how.

She never asked such a thing. She was proud of Pearl’s increasing strength, certainly, but that could not match the way her face light up, brighter than the core of this galaxy, when she found out Pearl had learned how to bubble.

She valued each gem. She never once slipped, never once got destructive.

But after how many tries?

At least once she exploded and hurt Pink Pearl. How many other times? Pearl never saw her shatter anyone, but as a new diamond building her court, could she have avoided it even if she wanted to? Even then, she burst to life into a world that expected such cruelty of her, with no way to understand what is cruel and what isn’t.

In the end, Pearl still found it a bit of a miracle, how a diamond with such power and status - even dissatisfied with her superiors - would make such a step, such a conclusion.

Pearl was there, and at the same time she wasn’t, watching Rose contemplate from afar as she strolled through forests and over beaches or watched the stars and clouds for nights and days.

How many times did Rose try and fail? Wasn’t she still learning even after the rebellion, when she had to learn respect beyond curiosity and play, beyond the world she knew, beyond every habit ever taught to her?

Pearl breathes out, adjusting, and the shields sink back into the water, deep into the temple. The water rushes quietly and evenly, a soft song humming along to Pearl’s graceful movements and steps.

A weight in her gem settled and seemed to roll off of her like raindroplets, following the shields down into the darkness.

She stops, and stands firmly. Rose did things her way, with her own practice, and Pearl never would have even begun to imagine abandoning her for mistakes, for accidents. She’s older now, different, no longer as blindly loyal.

But with that age and new understanding, she’s only all the more sure that Steven needs her to be there for him right now.

---

Amethyst kicks a metal plate hard. It gives a resistant clank and lays still. She lets out a loud graon, continuing to stomp through her room.

She kicks a solid rock, watching it break apart with a dull pain in her foot, and it only makes her madder. Fists on the dusty ground and loud yells and screams fill the room.

Amethyst turns over to lay on her back, stubbornly staring upwards. She breathes.

With every breath, the silence seemed to pressure her more and more. She rolls over.

She sighs, giving up, laying flat on the ground. Who is she to say anything, really? To bother? Why does it matter?

Why? Why did they never notice, why did they never even think about this? Why is she so focused on this? Why does she feel fucking sorry for that cruel quartz?

She sighs again, grumbeling. She remembers the first day of uncorruption, where for just a moment it felt like she could imagine what Jasper felt. Sure, she’s the worst, and turned out to leave off there and head straight into that forest. She’s mean, with no semblance of change. She doesn’t even try, and here she is, screaming into her empty room just so the others don’t see her break down.

Jasper decided to leave. She decided to ignore the whole thing and pull back, isolate herself so she could break alone. Amethyst groans again. It all feels too complicated, too tangled and hard to understand. She sees herself in Jasper. She hates Jasper.

Connie told her Jasper egged him into it, kept pushing, kept pulling and encouraging without second thought. And that only makes it worse, because she knows what that’s like: Pushing Steven out of his comfort zone, finally, from the quiet kind kid to someone people listen to, because if anyone should get to to what they want for once, it should be Steven, right?

There’s no way Jasper feels anything but some desperate aggression at her life, right? She wanted him to give it his all so badly, and any rational explanations make Amethyst feel bad. Make her feel uncomfortably similar to the orange gem. The desperate attempts. The fighting, the pushing.

She knows, distantly, that she’ll lay here and let things suck until she eventually crawls back outside. She looks over the piles of trash, having decreased with time. It’s been a while since she last tossed herself to the ground like that.

She stands up to her full, short stature, not bothering to dust herself off. Steven is strong, isn’t he? She knew that. She walks up to a pile of semi-organized metal scrap. He’s stronger than her. Which isn’t a surprise in of itself, but having seen it now, her insides seem to sink. He didn’t get his aggression from her, did he?

She kicks one of the metal pieces, and the pile bulges before falling back down. She picks something up, just to hold it, to accupy her hands. She lifts it up, and with a start, tries to snap it over her knee.

The alien metal bends unsatisfyingly, and leaves Ametyhst panting and with her gem regenerating some of her knee. She lets the scrap fall back to the floor.

He’s not a kid anymore, either.

The thought of Steven hurting someone always felt so ridiculous. She’d push him, tease him for being too caring or tell him to try harder. Hell, they both fought, and he survived all that while barely even trying. And while trying to make her feel better.

And she never even noticed how he changed, did she?

Since when could he have been pushed to do that? To really, really hurt someone?

She groans again. It’s all so much. It’s all so complicated. Sure, she can deal with it in time, but that doesn’t make any of this any less stupid.

Change. He changed. She kicks another piece of scrap, sending it flying.

If she sits on her thoughts any longer, she’ll never come out, so she heads for the temple door.

Her fault or not, he was there when she changed, even for the worse. For every horrid reformation or desperate fight. She looks glumly at the door, and it opens.

At least she can imagine what he’s going through, even if she doesn’t know what to do.

---

Garnet meditates.

Dozens of blue paths glow blue in the darkness. Millions of spectral droplets drip down from the platform she hovers above. With every single one, a fiery burst illuminates her. She sits unmoving.

A large, pearly waterdroplet rolls off the platform, and the flames briefly lick over the blue paths, threatening to disrupt them. She focuses, the flames die down.

The round glass platform hovers beneath her idly.

Another droplet falls, the flames rise, and the platform cracks.

Garnet grits her teeth, clenches her fists. It’s all going fine. Breathe. She breathes. Crack.

Just breathe, she thinks, Steven is just- Crack.

Just the mere thought causes her to stir. A voice tells her that she isn’t dealing with the problem at all.

Garnet tenses, trembeling while a droplet begins to roll down her face. When it lands on the platform, it shatters, pieces scattering in the darkness.

She twists out of her meditative position, fire rising to meet her so she can stand. It whirls around, obscuring her vision, obscuring her thoughts. She punches into the flames, but that only sends her off-balance, falling.

She lands on her feet just barely, steadying herself. She takes off her visor and stands, staring at the blue landscape set in red flames, the break between adorned with purple-pink flowers. There is no wind. It all stands eerily still.

Pink butterflies swirl around the bushes and abstract shapes.

At the end, the landscape fades into pitch black. She doesn’t know. She looks down. She doesn’t know anymore.

A butterfly lands on her shoulder. She was wrong, again. Of course she saw into the future, thought she finally understood him to at least give an estimate. There were so many ways. This was not one of them, and now she has no idea what lies beyond.

Her fists clench again, shoulders rising as the butterfly leaves. Breathe. Another swishes by, ethereal wings brushing past her arm.

She failed. Her fists clench tighter, shoulders higher, hunching over. He hurt someone, he’s terrified, he turned into a monster, and she wasn’t there for him.

The butterfly swirls, contemplating whether to return or not. Garnet stops, freezes, and releases a breath. Her shoulders sink down, and she watches the butterfly leave and fade into the blue.

It’s okay. Just a butterfly. Just a thought.

Another approaches her from the back, finding place between her shoulderblades. She remembers the terror she felt, standing before Blue Diamond, loyal devotion and blindness suddenly twisted into betrayal. A Diamond. A Diamond that wanted her shattered, a Diamond she had belonged to so dearly, even if she hates the thought now.

Glowing wings pass by her vision. She believed Diamonds existed to shatter for so long. Bismuth proved her wrong. Rose proved her wrong. Steven proved her… wrong.

Her arms go around herself as she closes her eyes shut. Rose let wonder, love, light grow in a place of devouring fear. Little did Garnet know at the time, she let it grow from the same place the fear came from.

And then she trusted them. Knelt down, blindly, with everything to fear and nothing to prove. She held out her hand, and Garnet took it.

Without a second thought, without a single question, with nothing but a sad smile and those soft hands. She always thought Rose took her in and held her tight, but no. She let Garnet go, to do as she would, and trusted her with every secret, every move, every fight.

Garnet breathes out, and three butterflies swirl off and into the darkness. She opens her eyes, watches them leave. She blinks. They’re pretty. She smiles to herself.

Rose believed in her. Rose believed in change. Rose believed in a lot of things, really.

And Garnet?, she asks herself, a question from both her halves. She opens her palms to see her gems side by side.

Garnet believes in change. She believes in letting others grow. She believes in Steven.

She closes her hands, and the butterflies pass her by peacefully.

---

The sun is setting, coating the world in dusty hues of orange and red. Long shadows stretch over the forest ground, the trees mere black silhouettes against the paling sky. Last stretches of clouds seem to hurry home.

Steven stops near his destination. He carefully pulls some leaves aside to see the gem in question. The red stripes and messy hair make her blend into her surroundings well, coated with warm, fading light and rounded by harsh shadows.

She turns to him with sharp, attentive eyes, eyeing him. Steven opens his mouth, then closes it again. She turns to him fully, leaning against a nearby rock.

She crosses her arms over her chest. He long told her to drop the salute, and that he can’t possibly be what she wants him to be. Something wants to tell him she’s probably more mad about the salute than about what happened, but he suspects that’s also exactly what she wants him to believe.

He sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket and clears his throat.

“Jasper, I’m sorry.”

She huffs. “For what.”

“For being out of control. For using all of my power-”

She cuts him off. “For what? Doing what you were made for? Being who you are? No.”

“This isn’t about that! I hurt you.”

“Because you were doing what you were made for.”

He sighs. They’re going in circles already. “Look, I came here to say I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for coming here, and then bothering you, and then not knowing better and-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a fist smashing a rock to bits as he has to shield his face.

“Jasper, let me finish-”

“You.” She walks up to him, pointing a finger into his chest. “Are apologizing. For the wrong. Things! I don’t want you to come here and apologize for, I don’t know, existing!”

“I’m not!”

She groans. “You can’t apologize for having powers! That’s dumb!”

He’s about to toss an annoyed retort, but he stops himself. Think, Steven. Getting mad isn’t going to make this any better. You can’t apologize for having powers. For existing.

He groans and looks up to her in defeat. “I guess you have a point… But I’m sorry for-”

“No.”

“But-”

“NO!”

He goes quiet, crossing his arms in front of his chest himself now. Jasper turns back to her rocks, but keeps talking. “Is your memory faulty? Did you like, forget everything we did? Everything I did?”

“But you were trying to help. And having powers and being out of control doesn’t excuse what I did.”

“Fine. Listen here. You really wanna apologize for, I don’t know, doing what I told you to?”

“Well, yes? I should have been thinking with my own head, too. And I’m sorry for not using my senses, either.”

He finishes, and they both stand in silent. Jasper gives an annoyed exhale and then sits down on the ground with a thud. She looks at him, groans, looks away, crosses her arms again.

“Fine. Then I’m… ergh, I’m sorry for making you, do that.”

Steven looks at her with a bit of surprise, but she quickly gets up and straightens herself as if nothing happened. “Good. Now we’re even. Don’t force me to do it again.”

She squints at him. “And stop smiling like that.”

He can’t help a small laugh. “Okay, okay! Well, this went, better than I thought it would.”

“Hrm.” Jasper kicks one of the rocks to the side, starting to mind her own business. He stands there, unsure whether to leave or not, until she turns to him again.

“What.”

Steven looks over into the forest. “I was thinking… Would you mind if I dropped by again, maybe? I mean, it would go better than before, of course, I don’t want to pressure or anything and-”

“Yeah.”

He stops his rant, breathing out. This did go a lot better than he thought it would.

He turned to the woods, the sounds of Jasper working away following him the first few steps. It’s almost night, the sky a pale, gray blue and the trees mostly mingled dark shapes. He still has some apologies to say to the Crystal Gems. Well, he already has, but he feels they should at least be something firm. Like a favor, or something to eat, or a gift. Something.

You can’t apologize for existing.

Who knew Jasper could give out decent advice sometimes, too.

#steven universe #Steven universe future #su #suf #writing #fanfic #su fanfic #suf fanfic #connie mahaswaren #Pearl #Amethyst #Garnet #Jasper #steven quartz universe #hurt and comfort #emotional hurt and comfort

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lacheri · 3 years

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congrats on 200 !! I was hoping you could write something small for me haha so here’s my info:

My personality type is intj or istj I’ve gotten both before and my enneagram is 6w5. I’m an Aries sun Sagittarius moon and Libra rising. My chosen s/o is Jean Kirstein. My perfered pronouns are she/her. I’m introverted around most people but pretty outgoing with people I’m close with. I love giving gifts to the people I love because I love seeing their reactions. Also although I’m super polite to people I don’t know I kinda love to tease the people I’m close to not anything mean just making jokes. As for my hobbies I like reading I’m just a super slow reader and I’m also into video editing. Some stuff that makes me happy are spicy food, the smell of clean laundry, and my melatonin sleepy gummies 😌. My physical description: I’m 18 yrs old I have brown curly hair and brown eyes. I’m pretty tan. I’m also kinda chubby and 5’5 in height. NSFW info: I personally don’t like degrading or any kind of whips/bondage stuff. I do like to use toys on other people though such as viberators or dildos. I hope I understood your rules correctly when you said check requests but I wouldn’t mind you writing headcannons or a small Drabble depending on the tarot card you pick out. :)

I...literally want to be your friend?? I love the combo of aries sun/sag moon/libra rising, you're the best person to have a giggle with <3 (me and my aries bestfriend used to get drunk and dance to this song in high school so it's an aries anthem for me)

The Fool: this card and the zodiac sign Aries are very much so equals in my mind (the card for Aries is the Emperor). the Fool is card zero, representing infinity and the promise of a new journey. Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, and both these compare in child like wonder and spirit. the man in the card stands on the edge of the cliff with his belongings, head towards the sky, unknowing that he is about to walk off the ledge. the rose he holds represents purity and innocence, the dog his companion, the sun shining down on a cloudless day. I personally love when this card comes out in a reading, it reminds us that it’s okay to indulge in the childish parts of ourselves. not everything is meant to be taken so seriously. it’s okay to have fun without thinking of the future.

anna sun - walk the moon. "Live my life without coming up for air, now it's all I want. I want everyone racing down the hill, I am faster than you. Wait for summertime."

“Jean, you’ve been DJ this entire ride!”

“I have great taste in music, thank you very much!”

You pouted in the passenger seat, arms crossing over your chest, the soft hum of music playing from the radio as you spoke, “Where are we even going anyways?”

“An adventure, obviously,” his honey brown eyes flickered to you, a coy smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t be much fun if I told you.”

“Some best friend you are,” you grumbled, slouching back into the leather of your seat.

The sun had long rid itself of its presence, the moon replacing its position high in the sky. It was a particularly bright night as Jean drove his car down an empty highway, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the top of your thigh. You had been in the middle of reading your favorite novel, sweatpants on with your hair tied up, when you had heard soft thumps against your window. You had sighed, dog earring your page, and trotted over to your window sill, throwing it open.

Jean had a handful of rocks and a silly toothy grin on his face, calling out that he was going to kidnap you whether you liked it or not. You had simply rolled your eyes, trying hard to conceal your smile and ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and soon enough you were in the passenger seat of his car.

Glancing at the dashboard, the clock read one o’clock in the morning. You would’ve been wide awake reading regardless, but still, you had to admit it was quite late. Jean seemed completely content as he hummed along to whatever song was playing, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. He threw on his blinker, taking an exit you didn’t care to read the sign to. Trees surrounded you on either side, blocking out any moonlight, and the lack of streetlamps was slightly concerning.

Jean had swerved onto a dirt road then, and you couldn’t help but tease, “Are you taking me out in the woods to kill me or something?”

“Yup, this all my master plan,” he smirked back, slowing down over holes in the road and navigating around fallen tree branches. “I’ve had enough of your smart mouth, time for revenge.”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed, placing your hand over his subtly. “You wouldn’t be able to survive without me.”

“Probably not,” Jean mumbled, his eyes widening. “Oh! We’re almost there!”

Headlights illuminated the sparkle of a shoreline, your eyebrows furrowed upon your arrival. There were no beaches around you, were there? Your eyes scanned as much as you could, and it dawned on you that Jean had taken you to, a lake?

“I found it randomly one day with Connie, it’s not on any of the maps or gps,” Jean began to unbuckle his seatbelt, gesturing for you to follow along with his hands. “C’mon, we’re going swimming!”

“Swimming?” you deadpanned, hands frozen on your unbuckled seat belt. “Jean, absolutely fucking not. It’s freezing!”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine, we’re not going swimming. It was worth a try though. But my real reason is less cool, I just wanted to hang out.”

“Just us?” you couldn’t help but ask nervously, hand on the door handle.

“Yeah,” Jean smiled boyishly, fumbling with the radio, sliding out of the driver’s side shortly after. “Just the two of us, baby.”

You let out a nervous giggle, feeling the onset of your heart pounding in your chest. With a quick gesture, you were out of the car, Jean circling around the front to meet you. His phone was in his hand, thumbs tapping quickly away. Suddenly, the mellow sound of smooth music began to play from the speakers, flowing from the opened windows.

Jean put his phone in his back pocket of his jeans, meeting your gaze with a soft smile with an extended palm, “Wanna’ dance?”

You blinked a few times, feeling heat crawl up your cheeks, “Really?”

He strided closer, grabbing your hand at your side, “Yes, really. Now c’mere already.”

You felt Jean as he twirled you suddenly, pulling your back to his chest, laughing as he did so. You couldn’t hold back your own giggles, squealing as he began to move his feet clumsily to the beat of the song, one becoming familiar as the lyrics and music kicked in. You followed his movements, not exactly as dancerly as you had hoped, but it didn’t matter much to you. There was no one around, and the way Jean was “dancing”, you knew he didn’t care much about how well you moved.

You began jumping on your feet, Jean joining you enthusiastically, screaming the words out at the top of his lungs. You laughed hard at the sight, and he threw his arms around your waist.

“You’re like, my favorite person ever, you know that?” Jean looked away shyly at the admittance, smiling so softly it warmed your heart. “You’re the only person I’d ever want to do this stuff with.”

“Awe, Jean, you going soft on me?” you teased lightly, sliding your arms around his neck as the two of you began to sway.

“Just for you,” he breathed, finally moving his honey colored eyes to yours. “Hey, um, have you ever thought about us?”

“What do you mean?” your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, trying not to get your hopes up. You had the biggest crush on the man for years, and his words were going to effect every single thing from this moment on.

Jean took a deep breath, nearly stumbling over his words as he spoke, “I’ve liked you, for a really long time. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you if you don’t feel the same, but, I kind of want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mouth hung open, eyes blinking furiously, “Are you serious?”

“You know what, I’m sorry, that was stupid,” he shook his head as if to erase his words, shutting his eyes and pulling away, your arms falling from his neck.

“Hey wait,” your hand shot to his bicep to stop him from moving any further. “Jean, I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. I just never thought you liked me back.”

“Of course I did! I mean, you’re like the coolest girl I’ve ever met. We like all the same music, you put up with my stupidity,” Jean chuckled, gazing at you so sweetly. “You go out on these late night adventures with me. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, the last person I talk to before I fall asleep. You’re beautiful, and that helps too.”

“I would be an absolute idiot to not want to be your girlfriend,” you looked down at your shoes shyly, smiling as the pent up words left your lips. “Who else is gonna’ throw rocks at my window like we’re in the 90’s?”

“I’m just missing the boombox, aren’t I?” he joked, fingers brushing past your temples to caress your hair. “You’re just so you, and you’re not afraid of that. You get me, and I get you. It’s always been us.”

“It has,” you flickered your eyes up at the contact, placing your own hands overtop of his.

Jean had no further words, staring intently at your lips. You placed your weight on the tips of your toes, pushing yourself to close the distance between the two of you. His lips were soft as you kissed him gently, he tasted like spearmint and smelled of expensive cologne, and your eyes fluttered shut. His mouth moved seamlessly against yours, smooth and purposeful, and you could feel all the emotions he held within himself pouring into you. Maybe it was your own, but your brain was silent as the music came to an end, softening in the background.

“You owe me a real date,” you whispered against his lips. “Not one at one in the morning.”

“Can’t promise you that,” he chuckled, peppering a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But seriously, do you want to go swimming now?”

#lacheri's 200 follower event #i made this sfw but i hope you like it!!

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mysaldate · 5 years

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But can y’all imagine...

How very different KnY would be if told from another character’s perspective? Take literally any demon and suddenly the Demon Slayer Corps are painted in whole different light! In other words, I’m really bitter about the fandom and its hatred against the demons in general or just a few specific characters.

(long post, manga spoilers ahead)

With Muzan, it’s a story of a weak boy who just wanted to have a stronger body and then this shady doctor made him incapable of walking in the sun and forced him to eat human flesh? Like?? That fucks you up man. And then he learns how much of a curse immortality is and starts yearning for companions so he starts making them. His own family had forsaken him for something that initially wasn’t even his fault and now they started hunting down his fellow immortals. And what’s more, they act like they’re in the right!

Let’s take the hand demon from the final selection now, shall we? A little scaredy boy who got turned into a demon and ended up killing his brother without even fully realizing what he had done. Soon after, he was captured by this weird man in a mask and thrown in what is essentially a gladiator arena with dozens of people swarming in to kill him every once in a while. He fights his way through, eventually getting stronger and stronger. Eventually, he falls victim to one of the pupils of the man who captured him.

We’re just making a quick stop at Kyougai here before moving on to the moons. And boy did he deserve better! Kyougai has lived his whole life constantly being told what he was bad at. His writings is called trash, his passion for drumming is looked down upon, he has nobody to love him... There’s a lot more to him than just a frustrated bad guy. He cries when, for the first time in his life, someone gives mild appreciation to something he does. Sadly enough, that only happens on his deathbed.

Rui’s backstory was partially shown but imagine if he were the main focus! A boy so weak he could barely walk, suddenly offered the chance to become stronger. And much like in Muzan’s case, it backfired. This was even more enforced by the fact that his own parents tried to kill him! Then he met with the guy who turned him into this thing in the first place and slowly, he forgot all about his family. Loneliness grasping his childish heart, he eventually starts gathering other demons to create a family to feel those bonds again. He has no idea how families should work so he does it in the only way he can think of. But nobody else likes this. Imagine the betrayal he feels when one of his sisters tries to run away from him! And then he almost dies by the hands of someone who has what he had always craved without doing anything for it (at least from his pov). And by the very end, when he is finally reunited with his parents, when he finally felt the genuine love again, he got sent straight to hell for doing what he had to to survive, without being shown a speck of mercy by his killer.

We don’t know anything about Enmu’s backstory (movie, I’m counting on you!) but even with the little we know, a lot can be worked out. Enmu is loyal to a fault, overall pretty smart, he likes giving people happy dreams. He really just wants to please his master and yet, he’s not even given the small victory of killing a kid.

Or what about Daki and Gyuutarou? Again, we got their backstory but if that was the main focus? We’d get to see so so much more of the abuse they went through, of the hard work Gyuutarou put in for the sake of his sister, how he tried to protect her and make her stand up for herself, how he made sure she knew her worth and didn’t become a prostitute at a young age, how he cherished her and how much she relied on him. When she was getting burnt, did she call out his name hoping he would come and save her? Did she apologize for dying on him? Or Gyuutarou, how did he feel when he found her there? For how long afterwards had he blamed himself? He never let go of those feelings. And then around came a charming stranger and offered them both to live on, even as a single being so they could be even closer! Daki got a position so she didn’t have to do any degradative work ever again, Gyuutarou could protect her way better! They were attacked times and times again by the demon slayers and there were probably many tense moments and yet, they made it out, growing ever stronger together as a team... only to be eventually bested by a half-baked demon, a bunch of children and a very self-centered guy who took himself three wives.

Then we have Gyokko, an unfortunate artist who was most likely never appreciated, no matter how hard he tried. His art was dismissed as broken, imperfect, lacking in talent. And what’s worse, he may have had those feelings too. He knew he didn’t have very good focus, he probably couldn’t give his work as much work as he would’ve liked. After he obtained the capability of increasing his speed enough to nulify this deficit, he also came face to face with many people, many slayers, many pillars even, some of them who mastered the full-focus breathing technique and used it like it was nothing. How did that make him feel? And eventually he died facing someone who had all the focus he ever wanted, with his art and his own form insulted by a mere child.

Hantengu is not talked about nearly enough but can you imagine how he would tell the story? An almost blind beggar, constantly being pushed around because of his poor looks (something he could hardly change), thrown out of everywhere (kind of his fault since he was a thief but if it was his story, we’d get full reasoning), people refused to even talk with him in the end. Finally, he meets someone who gives him power and lets him be stronger so he doesn’t have to beg for everything. He’s still so very scared of everything though and he ends up doing his scary master’s bidding and gets killed by a bunch of violent screaming kids who insult him in every possible way without ever trying to look at things from his side.

Now we come to Akaza. Now here we got a lot of backstory so I’ll just skim over it real quick. In order to help his sick father, this good son stole money for the medicine and constantly got beaten up by the officials, simply because he wanted to help. His father died because he thought he was being a burden. Or, from Akaza’s point of view, his father died because he was too weak not to get caught. Can you imagine the shame? The pain? He eventually got taken in by a kind master, fell in love with a sweet girl and was supposed to marry her. And then his whole world suddenly crumbled down again. Everyone he cared about died and he couldn’t help them. Can you imagine how much he beat himself up over it? He became a demon but even after that, he would never eat girls. He just wouldn’t, it was too much for him. And yet, he managed to grow stronger. His end actually wasn’t all that tragic as he met up again with his wife, though both of them ended up burning in hell yet again.

Now we’re getting to Douma, and this one I’ll have lots of fun with. So this story is again about a little boy. This time, he’s not weak. This time, he’s not petty. He’s beautiful and everyone loves him. A lot. Too much even. He has no relationship with his parents because they don’t treat him like a human, they treat him like a medium. Everyone does. He can’t go outside to play with his peers, he’s stuck inside the temple, listening to people complaining about their miserable lives. That’s literally his entire life. Just frustration upon frustration upon frustration. Slowly, he starts going numb towards all of this. When something repeats for too long, a person will stop reacting naturally. That leads him to believe he’s emotionless. His father cheats on his mother constantly with other women from the cult, the bitterness grows with every day. Until one day, she snaps and kills him and then herself. But because Douma has no relationship with them and because of how much pain was already pushed onto him from others, he doesn’t have a reaction. He knows he can’t really help anyone. He doesn’t have that kind of power. So when the opportunity offers itself, he jumps after it. Since he’s numb to pain, he thinks, he is always happy. And he’s immortal now. So everyone he consumes can be just the same for sure! Later on, he meets Gyuutarou, a pitiful man clinging to his dying sister. And what does he do? He helps them out. And he takes responsibility for them later on as well. He strives to become strong, he strives to get along with everyone. Just the sheer amount of times he tries to spend time with someone only to be shut down shows a lot about how lonely he actually feels, even if he doesn’t call it that way. When Kotoha comes to the temple, he accepts her even with a child and if there’s one thing you can clearly see in his expression whenever he looks at her, it’s the warm, soft feeling of genuine affection, if not down-right love. Her refusing to let him explain why he does what he does and running off after insulting him? That had to hurt terribly. And she even threw her own baby off a cliff rather than to let him take care of the boy. The demon hunters coming to kill him? They want to ruin everything he tried so hard to keep together. He kills them and grants them the happiness he brings to his followers whenever he has enough time to do it. He dies at the hands of a spiteful woman who doesn’t know anything about him and is blinded by hatred and rage, a little girl who insults his feelings towards his friends while not really having any right to speak (her own emotions are way more broken than his and, arguably, for pettier reasons) and the child who’s mother he sheltered and who threw him aside.

That was long but we finally got to Kokushibou! Now, here it gets shorter again because, come on, chapter 177 gave us such a good POV on him! Though if the whole story was from his perspective, we’d deffinitelly get so much more! The utter sense of betrayal when his father after years of his hard work decided to abandon him as an heir, the overwhelming desire to at least match his brother, to at least be on equal grounds with him and then the crushing defeat when he realized he could never be like him, his lifespawn was running thin and his brother would probably surpass him even in that. He became a demon for the sole purpose of besting his brother and yet, he was never able to. As an unfulfilled revenge, his brother died before Kokushibou could strike him down. And now fast-forward some time and he’s stuck babysitting supposedly some of the strongest demons except they constantly bicker about petty things, can’t respect authority or in some cases get scared so easily he has to wonder how did they get there in the first place. His own descendant tries to kill him and refuses his offer to join Muzan’s side. And he dies because of a moment of weakness, bested once again, never to live to see the day when he would truly be the most powerful swordsman like was his life-long dream.

Or let’s take a look at Kaigaku. Working his ass off his whole life only to be constantly compared to a weak coward like Zenitsu who couldn’t even show their elder any proper respect. He couldn’t manage to master the first breath of thunder technique no matter how hard he tried and that alone was the reason why his teacher didn’t see him as any better than Zenitsu – someone who never learnt more than one technique! He was finally somewhat appreciated by Kokushibou. That was literally the first person ever to see him as a strong opponent. A demon who originally came to kill him. And he died by the hands of that very same weakling who was the cause of his troubles his whole life.

I could go on and talk about Tamayo, Yushiro, Susamaru, Yahaba, the swamp demon trio, Nakime... I’ll save these for when Nakime’s backstory is revealed and possibly when we get more details on Tamayo and Yushiro. There should also be the replacement upper moon five so let’s wait for that guy.

Side note: I’m purposedly emitting Nezuko since 1) she’s not a standard demon in the series and 2) she’s one of the main protagonists so we already see the story from her perspective about as much as we see it from Tanjiro’s.

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