#A court of blobs and doodles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago

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This Isn’t Hypothetical for Chris

SPECIAL CONTENT WARNING: This piece contains a series of arguments regarding the Box Boy’s whole concept, and a survivor’s reactions to it, that may hit too close to home both for survivors of assault/abuse and also considering American history of institutional violence. Please do not read if you think you are not in the right headspace for this, and feel free to message me for a rundown/synopsis of this chapter if needed.

CW: References to pet whump, institutionalized slavery, Box Boy universe, vague referenced noncon/conditioning, self-loathing, victim-blaming, survivor’s guilt, ableism (both internal and external). Also includes some self-harm/negative stimming including head-banging during a meltdown.

Nicholas/Henry (referenced multiple times) belongs to @orchidscript

“Excuse me, can I ask a question?” The one who raises his hand is… Eshiram, maybe? He lives over in Dalton, Chris knows him, more or less. Sort of. The way you know people who live near you, even on a campus as big as this tone.

“Yeah, go ahead.” The grad student who teaches the discussion meetings for their Social and Political History class waves one hand in a quick, not quite dismissive gesture.

Behind him, there’s a projected photo of a young man sitting, testifying in court, wearing a suit and tie. Above his head, the words, The Human Pet Industry and Human Rights, 1952-20XX, are angled just so, framing the young man’s head like a halo.

Chris refuses to look at the image of the young man, caught mid-speech. They already had to watch the video recording of it, discuss the way the lawyers phrased their questions to make the young man look innocent or calculating, depending on what they wanted the jury to think, when Chris could have told everyone in here it wasn’t fucking possible for a pet to calculate like that.

Or maybe it was, and Chris just wasn’t any good at it, when it was him.

“So, we’ve spent all week sitting in lecture, and here, talking about how the pet industry is absolutely fucked up-”

“Excuse me?” A girl sitting three seats to Chris’s right and a little ahead of him turns around in her chair to give Eshiram a flat glare. “That is not-”

“Wait your turn, Callie,” The grad student says, looking weary. “Next time I have to tell you to let someone finish a sentence… Man, just, don’t make me do that. Go on, Eshiram.”

Okay, good, his name is Eshiram. Chris is getting better at names, but it’s still hard, and on days like today it’s harder than ever. It’s not that he isn’t paying attention, it’s just that the scar on the inside of his left wrist, that pale reminder of the life he lived before this one, itches and burns more and more as he stays silent, listening to them talk about a life he’s lived like it’s an abstract concept and not a nightmare Chris will never be able to completely wash off his skin.

“Thanks. So, we talk about the pet industry, but I just-... why doesn’t anyone fix it?”

“Fix it?”

“Go in and pass laws… the public push is there to outlaw it completely. So why doesn’t it happen?”

“Because money talks, man,” Another student pipes up, and Chris stares down at his notes, which have gone from neat, if angular, handwriting to a jumbled mix of letters that mean nothing to a series of increasingly anxiety-riddled pointless doodles of geometrics and horses that look like dogs and dogs that look like blobs and blue ink bleeding spots around them all.

On the inside of his wrist, he starts, slowly, to draw little triangles over the scars, filling them in with the deep blue ink. Their voices are all starting to have weight, pounding against his ears, and he should ask to leave, but he can’t remember how to form the words.

“It doesn’t matter how fucking miserable the pets are, if rich people want something, they just bribe the fuck out of everybody until they get it.”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be like that-”

“Pets aren’t miserable,” Callie pipes up, and this time the grad student doesn’t stop her, just looks… interested. This is just a class discussion to him. To Chris it’s a building pile of rocks slowly picked up and thrown in his direction. He has to sit still, to be good, to not give away why it hurts to hear it.

He has to be good.

He drops his head more, blue hair falling across his face to hide it, and digs the nib of the pen into his skin until it hurts.

“Who wouldn’t be?” The student who spoke up rolls his eyes. “Of course they’re miserable. What, you think somebody cleans your house for no money because they’re fucking passionate about Swiffer wipes? All the bullshit in the world can’t hide what this whole system really is.”

“First off, it’s not like that, and second, please do tell me... what is it, really?” Callie asks, poison in her voice.

“Okay, guys,” The grad student says, hands out. “Let’s calm things down a little.”

“You know damn fucking well what it is,” Another girl speaks, glaring a Callie, and Chris looks up from under his eyelashes, almost smiles. Someone speaking up. He pulls the pen away from his wrist, just a little. “Starts with S, rhymes with-”

“Guys. Calm it down.” Callie and the other three all glare at each other, but the whispering among the class slowly settles down. The grad student stands up picking up some papers he has in his hands, setting stapled packets down on every desk. “I’m glad you’re all really passionate about this, and I want you to carry that passion out of this classroom, but we need to focus on the testimonies we’ve been watching this week. Now, each of you has here a written transcript of four examples of testimony from the individuals we’ve heard this week. I want you to read over what Trenton Denver, Phillipa Venn, Yuki Tanaka, and the former Nicholas-”

“You know what’s bullshit, is that you’re all sitting here judging pet owners when I bet none of you has ever even met one,” Callie snaps, and Chris stares down at the rough, photocopied photo on the front of the packet, sees Nicky’s face there. A photo of him before, standing next to his owners during some kind of press conference, and a photo of him after, years later being Henry now, giving a speech standing alone.

Something in Chris twists with an awful, sick guilt. If he’d only stayed with S-... with Oliver, he could have been a friend to Nicky, whenever he could... and instead, the other boy had had to do everything, to go through it all, alone. It’s not a fair or rational thought, but it’s there, insidious and slithering. His heart wants tries to tighten, to stop beating entirely.

Does he even deserve to breathe, living a life like this one, where everyone rescues him and he never once saved himself?

“Do you need to fucking meet one to know it’s miserable to be kept like a fucking Golden Retriever? People. Aren’t. Pets.” Chris wants to look up, to see who spoke this time, but he just keeps staring at Nicky’s face, his slight smile blurred and pixelated by the copier. Fake, and unhappy, because they were both trapped in lives they didn’t want to live.

“Golden Retrievers are pretty happy dogs,” Someone says, and Chris feels himself choke on their words.

We’re not dogs. We’re people. We’re not dogs. We’re people. We’re not-

“Oh my God, way to miss the point by approximately fifteen thousand miles and also be so insulting to dogs in the process, dumbass. We’re talking about human beings!”

Chris takes in a breath, keeps his eyes down. Digs the pen nib into his skin, deeper and deeper, as hard as he can, trying to drown out the cacophony of noise that is starting to intrude. He can hear their breathing, all of them, huffing in and out. He can hear their words pressing on him, the buzz of the lights overhead is louder for him than anyone else in here, he thinks. He can hear people talking in the hall as another class has let out, he can hear people shouting dimly outside, running to the Student Center, playing frisbee or something on the green space, and he wants to be outside he wants to be outside he wants to move.

Can’t move. Have to be still.

Can’t let them know what he is. Can’t tell. It’ll put everyone at risk. He has to sit still and pretend he doesn’t have opinions on this so nobody looks too close. He has to sit still and stop tapping his fucking foot and stop stop stop moving, stop fucking moving, be still be still be still-

“All I’m saying, is that I have actually met pets before,” Callie announces. Chris wonders why the grad student hasn’t stopped her and sneaks a look up, only to see him sitting and looking bored. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s just something he talks about. He hasn’t had to live it, to see us crying, to know how it feels when they shock you or bring the cane down or make you be still for days and days and days. He’s never seen one of us wake up screaming even when it’s safe.

This isn’t hypothetical for Chris.

“Yeah, Cal, we get it, you’re rich,” Someone says, rolling her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. “We hear about it all the time. Let it go.”

“Eat the rich,” Someone else mumbles behind him. “French had the right fuckin’ idea with the fucking guillotines.”

Chris swallows. He wants to hum, to make some kind of noise to drown them all out, but he can’t. When he, when he needs things, when he needs to tap or rock or hum, it draws attention. Too much attention is dangerous. Have to keep it in until class is over. Just a few more minutes, a few more, just, just a little longer…

“Me being rich isn’t what we’re talking about. I’m just saying none of you knows a thing about the industry, and I do! I grew up with pets! And they were the happiest people I’ve ever met!”

“You don’t, don’t know that.” He doesn’t realize the voice is his own until the eyes feel as heavy as their voices did a moment before, and he notices everyone is looking at him.

He swallows again, his heart starting to pound with nervousness, pulling his sleeve carefully down to hide the drawing he made on his wrist. “You don’t know that,” He repeats, louder this time, willing his voice not to shake. “All you, you know is what, um, what… what what what, what, what they-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Somebody says, and Chris almost stops there.

He manages to finish, “-... what they thought it was safe to tell you, what, what they were trained to tell you.”

“You think I wouldn’t know if my own pets weren’t happy?” Callie looks… stunned, is the only word for it. “You really think that?”

“No, I don’t, don’t think you… would.” Chris hates everyone looking at him. He likes to be hidden, to stay behind the scenes, to blend in with shadows. But he feels like a police siren going off, unmistakable and too loud, with the classroom all looking at him all at once. “They-... they’re… trained. To make sure you, you, you-you-you wouldn’t ever f-find out if they weren’t... if they were scared, or, or miserable, or if your f-f-family was hurting them-”

“How fucking dare you?” Callie’s eyes widened, and Chris watched them fill with glittering tears. “Suggest that my family would abuse our pets? What is wrong with you?”

He almost - almost - apologizes.

Then she adds, “I’ve known them every single day of my life! I think I’d know if they weren’t happy, Chris.” Callie rolls her eyes, arms crossed in front of her.

“How?” His voice is louder, and he doesn’t mean it to be, but his mind is sparking with anger and fear. The warning bells inside his mind are being drowned out by the other thoughts, the way he has listened to too many people give arguments like this, and this week he’s listened to four different speeches by pets detailing abuse, and suffering, and starvation, and drugging, and he’s lived all of it and here she is just dismissing Chris’s life like it’s a fairytale the pet lib people made up to sell magazines and documentaries and not Chris’s actual fucking life. And Antoni’s. And Leila’s. And Krista’s. And Kauri’s and-

And Nicky’s.

Or… Henry, now.

“How what?” Callie sneers the words and Chris shoves himself to his feet. She’s up as well, and she’s taller than him, not that it matters. He’s not intimidated by her height, and he doesn’t even really see her, he sees-... he sees Oliver murmuring, the others will all hate you if they know what you are, darlin’, and mostly that hasn’t been true for him, but with Callie… it would be.

Or she’d call someone, turn him in.

She’s the kind who would make the call herself, and she’d say it was for his own good, that he was breaking the law, that he-

“How would you, you, you-you… you know? It’d never be safe to, to, to to to to-... to-to… to, fuck, to-” He groans, smacking himself in the head with his hand, and the sudden burst of sensation soothes the broken words inside his head, he can find them again. “It’d never be safe to tell you!”

“Oh shit,” Someone whispers. The same person who made the guillotine comment maybe. He doesn’t care. He’s too angry, now, and not even at her, he’s angry at everyone who looked the other way at Oliver’s parties, or when Owen put Kauri in that video on the internet, or when they watched Jake get arrested at protests or made fun of him when he got set free later and it took two fucking weeks for him to go back to class just because he put his body between Chris and a living hell.

He’s too angry, now, to stop.

“You’re, you’re s-s-soulless,” He hisses, and there’s an intake of breath. “Every single one, of, of, of you is soulless.”

“Chris, let’s calm down,” The grad student says carefully, moving forward. “Callie just has a different point of view-”

“Is it a, a, a different point of-... of view when it’s someone’s fucking life?” He doesn’t mean to be yelling. He doesn’t know how he started yelling. He’s terrified of his own voice and he can’t stop. The lights hurt, they sit on his skin and they hurt and the world is full of noise and he just wants it to be dark and quiet and better than this.

“Everyone who hurts-” Us “-them is soulless, is, is devoid, you don’t have one, and everyone who s-s-sits, who, who sits around, who-... who does nothing while they hurt us-”

“I’ve never hurt a pet a single day in my life!” Callie shouts back at him, and someone takes her arm, a friend of hers.

No one takes Chris’s arm. No one speaks. They just watch him from every corner of the room, and later someone’s going to write a fucking post about this somewhere, and he’ll be a laughingstock, and maybe someone will see the look in his eyes and guess - and know - and call the cops - and he’ll get Jake in trouble again-

“I’d bet every d-... dollar in my, my, my bank account that you have!”

“Christopher Stanton, you need to stop, right now, or I’m going to ask you to leave.” The grad student steps between them, and Chris’s eyes flicker to the older man’s. Suddenly he’s unsure, and he wants to sit down.

Sit still. Silence is better than stammering. Stillness is better than what I do. Sit down, be good, be good be good be good be a good boy be good a pet be good be good after all-

“I mean… they signed up for it, right?” A new voice, the girl holding Callie’s arm. “Pets? They get told what it’s all about before they sign up. Isn’t this kind of… babying them? I mean, they made the choice to be one.”

“Nothing happens to them that isn’t on their contract,” Callie says, smug with triumph, and the grad student doesn’t stop her. “Besides, they really loved me! It was like having a friend right from when I was born. They signed up for this!”

It hurts so much more when he hears it said outside his own skull.

“They didn’t like you.” Chris is spitting venom, suddenly, terrified of himself, of his own anger. He’s so good at not being angry, at not having feelings like this, at having good days and knowing how lucky he is to escape, but right now… “They, they, they didn’t like you, they were told to, to, to be nice to you! You, you just-...”

“I mean, they wipe their memories and shit,” Someone says. “That’s sci-fi horror movie shit, that is definitely fucked up. You can’t think you can wipe somebody’s memory and make them, like, memorize all those fucked up things pets say and then believe they just… like you, Callie.”

“They didn’t want those memories! They sign up on purpose, to give those memories up, because they don’t want them anymore! I mean, what do they lose, really?”

Chris hitches in a breath.

Everything.

I lost everything.

And I’ll never get all of it back.

“That’s why… why-why-why, why you’re not safe, why it wouldn’t be s-safe to, to, to to tell you if they weren’t h-happy,” Chris says, throwing the packet of papers with Henry’s face on the front into his backpack, alongside folders full of paperwork, his textbook, laptop, pens and pencils. “Because you’ll b-believe any, any, any any… any bullshit you’re told.”

Someone laughs, nervously.

“Or maybe one of us has actual experience with pets, and one of us wears the same five fucking t-shirts on rotation because he doesn’t own any others.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Callie.”

Chris stares at her, and it’s not fear that washes cold down his spine, but a blistering, awful, sick rage. “You, you, you-you-you don’t know shit about, about, about about… about m-me-”

Talking is harder, it’s like trying to push words through a wall with an opening the size of his thumb. The wall is built of all the noise and weight and rage and pain and sound all around him. He wants to rock, he wants to tap, he wants to get all the energy coiled inside of him out and he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Be good be still be a statue boy that’s my good boy trainee keep still for me sweet boy you wanted this you were made for this you signed up for this you knew what would happen to you you wanted this you wanted this you wanted this you wanted it you want it you’ll always want it-

“I know you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Callie snaps. “And that’s all I need to know, isn’t it? Have you ever even met a pet, Chris?”

He wants to start laughing, at the question, and he’s afraid if he starts he won’t stop until it’s tears instead, and he won’t cry in front of her.

He won’t.

“F-for, for, for, for… for y-your, infor-... fuck, for your, your, your-your-... your-”

No, no no no. He is stalling out, stammering, trains derailed and disappearing into the horrible white light that still lived inside his head, he is stuttering silence is better than stammering you have to stop you have to stop you have to stop-

Callie’s lip curls in a cruel sneer and Chris knows exactly what she’s going to do - how she will hurt him - before she opens her mouth.

“I think you should stop trying to talk until you can stop being such a fucking sp-”

“That’s enough.”

Chris had forgotten the grad student was even still here. He jumps, stumbling into his chair as the man pushes forward and blocks Callie from Chris’s view. Chris’s legs catch in the metal legs of the chair and he falls backwards, slamming on his ass into the carpeted floor, barely catching himself.

The carpet burns under his hands.

Only one person laughs.

It’s Callie.

Chris’s face burns bright red, shame and humiliation sweeping over his skin, and he lost nearly all the words, all at once, drowned in the screaming noise inside his head. All he can remember is how to spit, “I fucking hate everyone like, like, like you! You fucking bitch!”

“Leave the room, Chris.” The grad student’s voice is sharp. “That’s over the line. You’re done in this class for now. I’ll email you later and we’ll schedule a meeting to talk about whether or not you should come back.”

Chris’s lungs stop working. He can barely mouth what?

“Hey, wait a second.” Eshiram pushes to his feet, jabbing a finger in the air as he points. “Callie’s the one who worked this up into a fight, Chris didn’t-”

“Cut it, Eshiram, I’m not interested. Chris. Get out of the room, take a deep breath, and cool down. We’ll talk this out later, okay? I won’t mark you absent for class, or mark down participation, or anything. Just… take a walk.”

Chris can’t remember how to speak. All he can do is nod, good boy, take your discipline, discipline is a humane and necessary part of-

He has to get out of here before he calls someone Sir.

“If he goes, I’m walking out, too,” Eshiram says, strong. He was taller and bigger than the grad student, who looked at him, weary, as Eshiram steps over and offers Chris his hand. Chris takes it, skin crawling, and pulls himself back to his feet. “It’s not his fault and I’m not going to sit here like it is.”

“Yeah, me too,” Guillotine-Kid says, pushing to his feet and grabbing his backpack. “I’m out, too. I’m not going to fall for that propaganda bullshit.”

“Me, three,” Says the girl who had very nearly called the human pet industry exactly what it is. “This is bullshit, Darian’s right. She works him up and gets him all mad, and then you kick him out when he fights back? This is exactly the fucking problem we’ve been talking about!”

“Don’t be fucking dramatic, Tali,” Callie says, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be such a fucking nightmare asshole, Caledonia,” Tali shoots back.

“Okay. Okay, okay. Just… class dismissed for today. Look over your packets and we’ll meet next time and talk it out. I can see this isn’t going to get back on track. Chris, we’ll talk about you coming back to class when we meet, but until then… just… just work on the assignments.” The grad student sighs.

Chris yanks his hand away from Eshiram, and Callie’s triumphant little snort hits him in the back like a blow as he stomps out of the classroom and into the hall, the rest of the class streaming out behind him.

Eshiram calls out his name, but Chris doesn’t stop.

He should, he should stop, Jake and Nat always say it’s important to reward people for their work towards changing hearts and minds, and to appreciate the little things like people helping you stand up when you can’t stand for yourself, but he… he can’t stop.

If he stops, they’ll know what he is.

If he stops, they’ll tell someone.

If he stops, he’ll cry in front of them, and Chris has cried too often in his life. He just runs down the hallway, as fast as he can, taking turns and twists and stairways until he’s on a different floor, a different side of the building, and he’s totally, utterly lost in it.

He curls up in a tiny bathroom the size of a closet, lights off, door locked, presses himself into the corner in a room that smells like air freshener and bleach, and starts to rock, violently, forcing his head to smack into the wall with each forward motion, and again when he rocks back.

Again, again, again.

It quiets the screaming inside his head, but it can’t make the last hour not have happened.

Silence is better than stammering, stillness is better than what I do, I signed up for this, I signed up for this, I wanted this I wanted it I was made for it I deserved it we’re happy we’re supposed to be happy I’m broken because I wasn’t happy like this I signed up for it I have to be good to be good I am a good boy be still be silent be still be be be-

His phone starts buzzing an hour or so later, when he misses his lunch date with Laken. Over and over and over again.

He doesn’t pick up.

He wouldn’t be able to speak if he did.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout, @doveotions, @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump, @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth

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bonecarversbestie · 7 months ago

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Lucien and Jesminda meet cute?? Ofc I had to blobify

AGHHHHHHHH IM CRYING OMG THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVERRRR LOOK AT HER HAT! AMD HER EYES😭😭😭💕

And is Jesminda reading a Sellyn Drake novel? 😏😏👀

#a court of blobs and doodles

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garecc · 5 years ago

Link

Title: In which Artemis is very very aroace

Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan Relationship: Apollo & Artemis (Percy Jackson) Characters: Apollo (Percy Jackson), Artemis (Percy Jackson) Language: English Wordcount: 760

Summary:

Artemis and Apollo discuss romantic and sexual attraction. Artemis is very ace, and while there might not yet be a word, Apollo is supportive.

Tags:

Sibling Bonding, Fluff, Canon Asexual Character, Banter, Spitefic, No beta we die like Dionysus did that one time

Mt. Olympus.

At some point post the twins getting their thrones, but well before Hermes was born, probably when the twins were teenaged.

BCE.

"Apollo?" Artemis asked from where she laid, sprawled across a couch. Eyes tracing the swirling designs on the ceiling. She idly wondered who designed it.

Apollo looked up from where he sat, doodling, for the hundredth time, a picture-perfect drawing of the current deity he's infatuated with. "Yeah?"

"Is it... Really a thing? To want to.. I don't know. Be romantic with someone?"

"Uh. Yeah?" Apollo sat up, looking confused. "Why?"

"I don't know. I've just. Never understood the appeal? Aphrodite and Persephone always describe it as sort of.. You see a person, and you want to kiss them? Or do more? On sight? That can't be true. Can it? Like you just met them. You don't even know their name."

"...thats how I feel Artemis."

"You're joking."

"No?"

"Like- on sight. You see someone and it's just 'oh I want to kiss them' no conversation. No discussion. Not even sharing names."

"Yeah??"

"Thats weird. I don't ever want to kiss anyone. It's so gross. Like. What appeal is there to wanting to." She shudders. "Press your lips against someone elses lips?? That's disgusting."

"I mean. I like it."

"You're disgusting."

"Hey!" But they're smiling, and Artemis breaks into snorting laughter.

"Well, who knows. Maybe one day you'll find someone you want to kiss." Apollo said after a moment, shutting his sketchbook of monthly crushes and sitting up to face her.

"The thing is, Apollo, I don't want that. Ever. It's gross and... Honestly makes me kind of sick to think about. More than kind of. Makes me very sick."

"Well, that's fine too. Maybe I absorbed your ability to get infatuated in mum's womb. That would make sense."

Artemis laughed, eyes shimmering. "Fates I hope so. Romance is disgusting. Take the curse from me."

"Gladly." Apollo mimed taking something from her, making some shiny blob of undefined energy appear in his hand and eating it. They both burst into giggles.

"Honestly though. Do you really just see someone and?? Want to date them?"

"Mmhm." Apollo formed a scene out of half-formed sparks of energy. "It's like.. You're walking down the street to get ambrosia cookies right." The figure of swirling light walked down the scene. "And you see someone and BAM." the figure clutches its chest as another figure, identifiable as the man Apollo had been drawing earlier walks by. "'Oh holy shit you're so pretty! I would like to kiss you' You think, and then if it's a good situation you walk over and flirt. And possibly you get a date. And things go from there."

"Yeah but.. Actually? You just see someone and think 'I want to court you' because honestly Apollo that sounds like yale-shit."

"Well. That's what it's like for me."

"Aphrodite described it as similar, but it made even LESS sense." Artemis shrugged, sitting up. "I don't understand it."

"That's fine, I'll probably do enough dating for both of us now that mums letting me."

"Well. I'm gonna start a group or something of friends. Where no one courts and there is no romance drama. We're all friends and we're all in the woods and we're all hunting monsters. No romance whatsoever. If you romance it's fine I guess but you have to go."

"What if I did that but it was the exact opposite."

"You would be.. Ugh, what's that one kid you keep prophesizing about? The one with the cult of nymphs that goes to war against India? Who you talked about for an hour that one time?"

"Dionysus? Oh hm. Yeah, you're right that would be practically exactly what he's going to do. I may as well just wait and spare myself the effort."

"You do that then. What should I call it? My group?"

"I don't know. Think of something."

"What if I just called it something boring. My hunt. Or "the nymphs of Artemis." No fancy names. Athena will have a fit."

"Do it." Apollo smiled. "Boring names for the win. Bother Athena."

"Wonderful." Artemis smiled. "Okay, back to the topic. Are you absolutely certain that you get infatuated like that."

"For the third time, yes, Artie. I am certain."

"It just seems unbelievable."

"I mean. I guess if you just, don't get that it would seem that way."

"Anyway. So who were you drawing?"

"So there's this nymph right, he's so pretty."

"I don't really get pretty but go on."

"Anyway, so I was..."

#trials of apollo #apollo pjo #artemis pjo #toa #pjo #my fic #my writing #toa centric #toa fanfic #underground waystation gang approved

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bonecarversbestie · 6 months ago

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Eris registered our shock at that, too, and said, “Tamlin made him. Dragged my father out by his neck.” A half smile. “It was delightful.” —From A Court of Wings And Ruin by Sarah J. Maas

#yes beron's throne is the blues clues thinking chair #if you think i am drawing blobs to procrastinate you would be correct #a court of blobs and doodles #acotar #acotar fanart #eris vanserra #beron vanserra #tamlin acotar #tamlin #eris vanserra fanart #tamlin fanart #autumn court

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daydream-in-a-dream · 6 years ago

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Reverie (NCT Kun)

Genre: Fluff, angst, Soulmate!AU

Word count: 4.2k

Description: Dreams is the only way you and your soulmate can communicate. Despite the beautiful dreams, you couldn’t help but wonder if there is a hidden message behind all that.

He came like the maritime breeze, gentle and refreshing to the touch. The waves were lapping on the shores in a continuous motion, providing the white noise to occupy the comfortable silence between the two of you. When the sun peeked from the horizon, he subconsciously gripped your hand a little firmer, causing you to turn your head and face him as a soft smile made an appearance on his visage.

Gazing at his features was something that you never get tired of doing. From the side, you could see how his chestnut eyes seemed to glow in delight as the sun rose with elegance. His cheekbones became more prominent when his lips curved upwards with his teeth becoming visible. Just when you were about to place your finger on his cheek, it all soon turned black.

A wet towel was thrown on your face with a rude smack. You quickly removed the cloth and rubbed your eyes hastily to find the perpetrator behind the rude awakening. Glaring at your roommate with vehemence, she only laughed at your misery before she packed her essentials found in the shared room.

"You're going to be late for class if you continue to stay on your bed, sweetheart." She waved you goodbye afterwards, leaving you in a groaning mess as you willed yourself to get up from the bed. It was only when you saw the minute hand pointing at the 35-minute mark did you made immediate movements to get ready. Public transport was out of the question as you opted to bike your way instead.

Your knees were burning as you pedalled hard, ringing the bell once in a while to warn the pedestrians of your oncoming bicycle. Some would grumble in annoyance while a few would belt out a string of profanities as you brushed past them, causing you to mutter an apology once in a while. However, it was unlikely that they could hear you based on the speed at which you were travelling.

Once you had reached the school grounds, you didn't bother to check whether you locked your bike securely as you soon sprinted to the lecture venue. By the time you opened those large doors, all eyes were on you which caused you to stand stupefied due to all the attention you were getting. With a stern face on, Mr Lee pushed his thin-rimmed spectacles upwards as he cleared his throat.

"I would appreciate if you get to your seat so that I can start my lesson on time."

Snickers filled in the room as you lowered your head while making your way to the nearest empty seat you could find. It didn't help that you were sitting right where you were in the lecturer's line of sight, and your droopy eyes were enough to tell that you were going to have a hard time trying to pay attention.

Sitting for a 3-hour lecture was no simple task for you, especially when you stayed up late to finish an online assignment which slipped off your mind since a few weeks ago. It didn't help that you started to daydream in class as you played around with your pen, once in a while doodling on your notebook to keep yourself awake. It wasn't long before your head was tangent on the table as you drifted off to dreamland.

You were at the park this time round. Sitting at one of the wooden benches available, you spotted him jogging towards you with ice creams on both of his hands. He then passed one to you before the both of you savoured in the dessert, giving off a cool sensation in this scorching hot weather.

The man beside you decided to be playful when he slightly knocked your hand which was holding the ice cream, causing the cold dessert to make contact with your nose and form a blob on it. He mirthfully laughed at the sight as you whined at his mischievous act. His pure, unadulterated laugh was music to your ears. It was also the first time when you heard his voice, although not in speaking terms yet.

In the end, he took a napkin to wipe it off from your face albeit you were still sulking about it as his eyes crinkled with amusement. To appease you, he left a peck on your cheek but that only led you to click your tongue in annoyance when you felt the creamy sensation on your skin. He was flustered this time round as he soon wiped away, resulting your squinting eyes to relax before you chuckled at his panicked look.

However, just when you were about to reach out your hand to ruffle his hair, your vision was clouded.

'Miss? Miss?!" You stirred awake as the stranger continued to tap your forearm. Rubbing your eyes to adjust yourself to the lighting, you were surprised to see unfamiliar students streaming into the lecture hall. With flushed cheeks, you quickly gathered your items, muttering apologies along the way as you briskly walked towards the exit.

Glancing at your watch, you realised you had been sleeping for two hours straight. Thank goodness your class at 3 p.m. was cancelled because you would have to run like Usain Bolt to get to the other side of the building if you don't wish to be late once again. For now, you wished to lie down on your bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

It was weird that you felt lethargic even though the day hasn't come to an end yet. You blamed it on your online assignment, and maybe those dreams as well. You were aware that those weren't ordinary dreams; they were soulmate dreams — just like how your mother had described it over the phone when you first had them a few weeks ago. Recurrent dreams of your significant other would indicate that it wouldn't be long before you would meet. As much as you anticipated the meeting, you were also nervous. What if those dreams were just a fantasy, something in which you can't achieve in reality?

What if he wasn't happy to see you after all?

~~~

Both of you were at the beach again. It was neither during sunrise nor sunset. To be honest, you couldn't tell when dark clouds filled the atmosphere instead. The squalls were getting stronger, but the man by your side didn't budge despite your attempt to get the both of you to higher ground.

"What are you doing? We have to get away from here!" Pulling his arm, you shouted in anxiety.

"Isn't it beautiful?" His calm voice stopped you from pulling. You were puzzled; there was no doubt about it. You find it a pity that the first words that you heard from him didn’t make sense. He even had the audacity to smile at you before he raised his eyebrows, prompting you to answer his question. How could you possibly speak when you saw the waves quickly receded from the coast, exposing part of the ocean floor?

He then faced back to the sea, watching the waves exponentially grow in height. He still grinned at the sight, his grip on you never once loosen. Even as the enormous wave came approaching towards the shore, you couldn't find yourself to move. Your eyes shifted between him and the waves, and it was only a matter of time before the tsunami wrecked the entire coast. With his eyes closed, he intertwined his hands with yours which caused you to shift your attention entirely on him.

"If I didn't manage to say this in real life, I just want you to know that I love you."

That was the last thing he said before the waters enveloped the both of you.

A splash of water greeted you in the next morning. You immediately shrieked in response as you threw your now wet pillow to your roommate, only for her to dodge it effortlessly and cause the pillow to land on your dressing table, your skincare products left scattering on the ground. You winced at the sound before your roommate decided it was a good time for her to nag at you.

"You better wake up now woman! Don't tell me you're going to sleep all day. I'm tired of your lazy ass."

"But it's Saturday!" You retorted as you reached out for your blanket, only to realise it was drenched as well. There was no way you were going back to sleep when your bed was in such a state. Begrudgingly, you got up as she continued to remind you of the pending chores which you had to do since it was your turn today. To be frank, nothing went into your head as you took your towel before heading to the bathroom even though your roommate hadn't finished her sentence.

"Don't forget to do everything!" She hollered before she slammed the door, probably going out to shop with her friends.

Even though you had the urge to sleep back, you knew your roommate won't give you a break until you had done all that you needed. You willed every ounce of energy within you to finish all your necessary responsibilities — from changing the bedsheets and mopping the floors. You were already sweating buckets by the time you had finished, and you were hoping that you could reward yourself with a good meal, only to realise that there was barely anything in the fridge. You decided to go to the nearest food court and made a mental note to drop by the supermarket later.

You knew it wasn't Valentine’s Day today, but seeing the couples around you made you think so. You didn't know where to look when your eyes were greeted with public display affection in all directions. A frown unknowingly appeared on your face as you had yet to meet your soulmate. You didn't even recall what he looked like. There were times when you complained about that to your mother, but she replied with a chuckle as she explained to you that soulmate dreams functioned differently.

"You may think that you could remember his features very well in the dream, but once you wake up, not much will be retained in your memory. Same goes for conversations in such dreams. You can only tell that he's your soulmate in real life when you can feel his emotions strongly the moment you made eye contact with him."

You found soulmate dreams complicated, but you still thanked your mother for the information before you hung up the phone previously. Nonetheless, you fed yourself with positive thoughts, convincing yourself that you would meet him very soon as you skipped your way to the food centre.

Just when you were about to step into the shop, you spotted from the corner of your eye an odd sight. In the midst of the bustling city, you saw an elderly woman frantically looking left and right, not minding the people who might have harshly brushed against her due to the peak hours. You carefully approached her so as to not startle her, and you were glad to assist her when she looked at you as if you were her only hope.

"Is there anything that I can help you?" You questioned.

"Hospital. Where is the hospital?"

Your stomach grumbled. Although you were close to starving yourself, you didn't have the heart to reject her when she had asked you so earnestly. Eventually, you offered to accompany her to the hospital so that the guilt wouldn't be gnawing you alive. She thanked you profusely as you quickly hailed a cab before you gently escorted the elderly to the passenger seat once the taxi had arrived. Throughout the journey, the woman beside you couldn't keep her legs still as she continued to glance outside, wondering how long more before both of you arrived at the hospital. You held her hand, hoping the physical action could ease her heart a little, and you cautiously brought up the subject in an attempt to alleviate her worries.

"What happened exactly?"

"My grandson collapsed while he was working. I've already told him not to work anymore when he was diagnosed with a terminal illness but he was stubborn. Oh, why does God have to test him this way?! Why not me?!" She was wailing while her fist kept pounding on her chest, feeling upset that she couldn't do anything for her grandson. She continued to monologue on how God should have taken her instead since her grandson still had a long life ahead. You were left with little choice as you embraced her in a comforting manner while reassuringly caressed her back throughout the ride.

The taxi hadn't even completely brake when the elderly next to you rushed to open the door. You couldn't stop her in time when she had already stridden towards the entrance, rendering you speechless before you paid the fare and followed her closely from behind.

The elderly woman seemed to pick up speed once she knew where her grandson was from the receptionist. You were in the nick of time to support her from behind when she was about to lose her footing as she approached the ward.

"I'm fine, sweetheart." She gently patted your hand which was on her shoulder before she slid the door open, revealing a pale looking young man who weakly turned his head upon noticing his grandma was coming towards him. He flashed her a smile before she started to nag at him.

"I've already told you to quit your job but you never listen! Why don't you stop being stubborn and listen to me? It's for your own good!" Even though you were standing very close to the exit, you couldn't find yourself to leave. Especially if your act of leaving could potentially attract unwanted attention.

"But I don't want to stay in the hospital." He pouted, hoping it would stop his grandmother from nagging him any further. She did stop though after she gave a quick slap on his forearm while she grumbled lowly.

Even when he looked so weak, his bright smile could have him mistaken as someone who had recovered from his illness. Yet, when his sorrowful eyes met yours, you suddenly felt an immense pain within you, and it made you realise that he was just holding in his pain just to reassure his grandmother that he was fine. For whatever reason, you couldn't resist the urge to cry so you left, not minding the curious stares from both him and his grandma.

You didn't know why you felt this way when he was practically a stranger, but you did wipe the tears which managed to escape. Your stomach rumbled once again which spurred you to find the nearest vending machine to find some snacks to satiate your hunger. You actually could leave now that you were outside, but somehow you didn't have the heart to step out of the hospital. Just then, the elderly woman sat beside you as you munched your food.

"Can you do me a favour?" You stopped chewing before you shifted your attention to her and nodded in response.

"Can you accompany Kun once in a while? He's already upset that I didn't allow him to be discharged yet." She chuckled to herself while you were trying to figure out who was she referring to, only to realise that it was her grandson who was still lying down on the hospital bed. Your benevolent nature made it hard for you to say no. And once again, you nodded.

It wouldn't be that bad, right?

~~~

With a fruit basket in your hand, you hesitantly reached out for the doorknob before you retracted your empty hand back. A few nurses who walked past you did give a once-over on you before they continued to walk away. Taking a deep breath, you immediately opened the door, not allowing your uncertainties to overtake your body as your eyes landed on Kun. He had been reading a novel all this while before his eyes diverted to you.

"Why are you still standing there? Come sit here." He patted on the chair beside the bed before he earmarked the page and placed the book on his lap. Awkwardly, you put the basket on the tabletop before sitting with your legs clamped together while your palms were placed rigidly on your thighs.

"Chill. There's nothing to be nervous about." Chuckling to himself, you find yourself releasing the tension within you as you watched his relaxed composure.

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm a bit hesitant to come here but I've already made a promise to your grandma." You sheepishly smiled.

"She really has a way with words, huh? But I don't bite; if that's what you're concerned about."

The conversation seemed to flow easily afterwards as both of you laughed in between conversations, with his grandmother as the main topic of discussion. It was fun to listen about his life with his only relative, and it didn't occur to you that it was already dusk if Kun didn't mention it.

"You should go home now. It's not safe to be out so late," he said. "You can come back next time. I really enjoy your company."

That was the start of a new friendship.

~~~

You heard gunshots, followed by petrified screams as the park users were running helter-skelter in order to escape from the scene. The ice cream which you held was instantly dropped to the ground at the sound of panicked shrieks. You immediately thought of him as he was nowhere in sight. You couldn't even call out for his name when you didn't know about it.

Despite the chaotic scene, you continued to run past the sea of people as you searched for him. You didn't stop running even though your knees were burning because you had a feeling that you would lose him forever if you failed to find him. Of course, it was impossible to run forever when your legs finally retreated to the ground. You were already on the verge of breaking down when you heard someone called your name.

It was him, standing proudly a few metres away from you. With a smile, he waved at you. Relief washed over you as you quickly stood up and walked towards him. You thought everything was going to be okay.

Too bad a bullet was shot straight on his heart.

"Kun!" You immediately rose from your bed, breaking out in a cold sweat. It has been a few weeks since you last had a soulmate dream and the fact that you clearly remembered the person in the dream had your eyes widened in bewilderment. What's the meaning of this? Is he my soulmate? These were some of the questions which were running in your head as you stared at the empty beige wall in front of you. You were still seeking answers in the comfort of your bed when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen only to notice Kun's grandmother appearing as the caller ID. Weird, she never called you ever since you received her number during the first meeting.

"Hello?" You hesitantly answered.

In between sobs, she managed to urge you to come to the hospital immediately even though she didn't actually specify why. The rush in her voice was enough for you to dress within five minutes as you booked a taxi in the midst of it.

There was no denying that you were anxious about what was bound to happen in the hospital as you tried to wipe away the sweats forming in between your fingers while the traffic congestion did nothing to alleviate your worries. In fact, the congestion worsened it instead.

When you had reached outside Kun's ward, you spotted the elderly woman weeping on the dull blue seat alone. When she noticed your presence as you sat beside her, she immediately wrapped her frail arms around your petite body as sobs continued to echo the hollow corridor. Despite being confused, you soothed the crying lady as you provided her with the warmth that she sought after.

When she had finally calmed down, she pulled away from the embrace before wiping the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. She then opened her mouth before she closed it again, having a hard time to talk about it. You stared expectantly on her while caressing her hand, hoping to calm her nerves. Gulping the lump of saliva which stuck on her throat for some time, she sniffled before facing you with determined eyes.

"He's dying." That was all she said before she burst into tears again, not ready to accept reality. Finally, it made sense to you why she had been crying. Watching her in tears again triggered you to do the same, although you were partially unsure as to why you shut your eyes in anguish as you let the tears streamed down your cheeks.

Your friendship with Kun was blooming, so why did God decided to pull that blessing away from you?

~~~

When Kun's grandmother called you again during your break, you were initially nervous to pick it up because you knew she wouldn't call you unless it was important. Eventually, you braced for yourself, even though your break was coming to an end soon and you had to return back to work.

When she relayed the news to you, you sprinted out from the store with your phone and purse, not minding the shouts from your colleagues. You wildly flailed your arm, hoping to catch the attention of taxi drivers. However, most of them were hired already, leaving you groaning in exasperation. You resorted to sprinting to the hospital despite situated a few miles away from where you originally were, but that didn't deter you from reaching your destination in half an hour. You were also unperturbed by the sweat accumulating in your uniform as you dashed towards his ward, dodging the stream of people every now and then before finally recognising his grandma from a distance.

When you stood in front of her, she had a blank look on her face which caused you to be reluctant in asking the question. Nonetheless, when she looked up, you knew you had to ask her and confirm it once again.

"Is it true... that he died?" She nodded after a pregnant pause. Curiosity got into you when you noticed her hand, which was holding a letter and a bracelet, was raised as she intended to pass those items to you.

"He wanted me to give this to you." When she had handed you the items, the doctor called her to settle Kun's burial matters before you were left alone in the hallway. You fidgeted with the bracelet for a moment, admiring the starry beads which decorated the band and the heart-shaped lock which connected the loop together. You wore it around your wrist before you opened the letter to read the contents.

Hey there... uhmm this is awkward. I don't know how you'll react to this letter but I know I need to write it. There are so many things that I want to share, even though we met quite often previously. But there's one thing that I really wish to talk about, in which I don't have the courage to bring this up. I guess this letter is the only chance I have then, so here goes...

I knew you're my soulmate the moment our eyes met, but I didn't mention about it when I saw you showing no signs of recognition. And that's okay. I prefer our relationship to foster slowly, and that I don't think I'm ready to let you go when the time comes if I were to fall for you so deep. Plus, I don't think it's unfair to let you harbour feelings for me when I knew I wouldn't stay long in this world. I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier but I hope that you know how much I treasure you as a person throughout the precious times we've spent together.

May we meet again in the future, in another lifetime, so that I can shower you with all the love that you deserve.

You couldn't contain your tears after you had finished reading the whole thing. He was so considerate of your feelings and you felt it was unjust for a selfless person like him to die so early. Upon realising that a drop had come into contact with the ink on the letter, you quickly wiped away the tears before folding the paper and tucking it in your pocket on your jeans. Walking out of the hospital with a smile, you knew Kun would be more than glad to see you happy.

Reveries of him didn't stop even after his demise, as if you and Kun had never been apart in the first place. Just like how soulmates belonged to each other no matter what.

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