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caligvlasaqvarivm · 7 months

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Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study

Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.

Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.

Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.

Those are his emotional support slurs.

Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.

Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.

He's Sad.

The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.

Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.

Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:

Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.

The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.

At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.

Compare Feferi: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.

To Eridan: Go Home:

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.

So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.

Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!

Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.

But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.

Which brings us to our next point:

Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.

If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.

If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.

Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.

Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.

(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.

He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.

He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.

NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.

Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.

SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.

We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.

KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties

Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."

And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!

CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble

You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).

Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:

CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!

One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.

And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.

CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:

Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated

Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay

In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.

Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:

CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry

CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway

It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!

THEY don't even think he's being casteist.

In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:

CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ

He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:

CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies

So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.

That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.

The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.

Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.

The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!

And it's all made worse because:

Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)

Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)

CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about

What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.

This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.

CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.

This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.

So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.

And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:

ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.

It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.

I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.

So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?

Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -

Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It

So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.

What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.

At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.

The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though

("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")

The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:

CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly

And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.

It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)

So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?

See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":

FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.

Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:

PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.

He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.

You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:

KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.

That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?

That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:

TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole

He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:

TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on

Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,

Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.

Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).

Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.

Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.

And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:

CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it

Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:

PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it

Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.

But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).

So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)

But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:

GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.

But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:

CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.

In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:

But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:

PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.

It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:

CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

To:

CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.

Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:

A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.

That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.

It also goes on to note:

But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.

But what's really interesting is the next page.

And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.

Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.

(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)

In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...

The crab has always been there for him.

It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:

TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)

When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.

There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.

First, they both do the bonk:

Second:

CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.

Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):

CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.

Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:

The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.

Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.

And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:

Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.

So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:

ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.

(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)

So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...

Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)

So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.

I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."

Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.

So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.

It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.

It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.

I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.

The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.

Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.

Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.

Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.

Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.

Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.

There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.

Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:

The Prophecy

ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.

ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized

GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway

Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)

But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.

Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.

Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.

That last one is actually relevant to:

The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates

Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.

Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.

Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.

But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.

Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.

In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.

But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.

Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.

Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.

Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.

Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.

Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.

Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.

Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.

Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.

Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).

And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.

I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?

This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.

This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!

Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.

Thank you for reading.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #karkat vantas #erikar #im also going to tag all the other trolls that feature because yeah.#vriska serket #feferi peixes #nepeta leijon #equius zahhak #gamzee makara #kanaya maryam

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juney-blues · 4 days

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June Egbert is, and always has been incredibly fascinating to me because of just, how many factors have conspired to make Homestuck fans show their collective transmisogynistic asses.

The main character of Homestuck transitioning is a planned future plot point for the official continuation of homestuck, that was spoiled in advance by a fan making a joke about finding some toblerones Andrew Hussie the author of homestuck hid in a cave.

The current main writers of Homestuck: Beyond Canon have went on record in an AMA confirming that this was indeed always the plan, even before they took up the project.

In spite of these facts, the general consensus among certain homestuck fans seems to be that "June Egbert" is purely a headcanon for the original comic that was "made canon" by a "Toblerone Wish" (a concept that didn't even exist at the time)

For a variety of reasons, the "canonicity" of the postcanon official continuations of homestuck is a mattter of much debate, (though a debate that most homestuck fans seem to err on a side of "it's not canon at all in the slightest," something the writers have feelings on I'm sure.)

All of these factors combined leave the concept of "June Egbert" in a very nebulous place. It's assumed by most to just be an "ascended headcanon" that was shoehorned in, it's a spoiler so it hasn't happened yet in any official media, and the official media it will eventually happen in is regarded by some to be nothing more than glorified fanfic.

If someone is talking about June Egbert, and you don't like the concept of June Egbert, you have your pick of a million different excuses for why she's fake and gay and not worth discussing and bad writing and just the authors doing a gay dumbledore*, paying lip service to representation while actually doing nothing.

And of course, lots of people *don't* like June Egbert! Rather than being introduced as transfem from the start, she's in this nebulous position of discovery where people have to truly reckon with the idea of a "Pre-transition Trans Woman."

You can try to write off *some* of the backlash as transphobia, because obviously not everyone in this fandom is gonna be cool about trans people.

But there's no shortage of fans just dying to tell you about how much they like reading her as transmasc, or the idea of her being nonbinary or genderqueer or genderfluid, or literally anything besides a trans woman. And since they're fine with all those other interpretations, there's obviously no implicit biases driving their distaste for the concept! (if you want to try explaining the concept of "transmisogyny" to people like this you're braver than I.)

you can trust them when they say it's *just* a problem with whether or not it makes sense with the writing, or it just doesn't feel right somehow, or any of the thousands of excuses that this writing situation gives them to just Not Like It.

It's just, so interesting to me. There's not a lot of characters out there that get a trans arc in this way, that leaves room for open denialism and insistence that we have our trans cake and eat it too... Because Homestuck is a timeline spanning multiverse story, lots of people seem to want it to be an alternate timeline thing. Assuring us we can have this character share space with a non-transitioning version of herself and it won't be weird or imply gross things about trans people.

If you ask me it feels like a plotline that'd be really good for exploring some gender horror though, finding your true self and then being demoted to a footnote, an alternate version, because everyone around you likes your pre-transition self more....

Anyway I have no broader point beyond "hey look at this isn't this kinda weird. You don't get this kinda stuff often!"

*side note: it's a little ghoulish I think to compare "a future trans plot point that hasn't been given the chance to even happen yet, in an already famously queer piece of media, from a nonbinary author" to "some stupid shit done by the literal most famous transphobe of all time" but that's perhaps a discussion for later.

#juney.txt #homestuck #june egbert #junecourse #idk why i'm so autistic about this topic

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zyafics · 9 days

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PLAY FAKE | part thirteen

MASTERLIST (series) | Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs. Reader is hyper-independent, a people-pleaser, a smart mouth, stands on business, and has a mysterious past. Rafe is insecure, possessive, an asshole, and has mood swings.

"Are you busy?"

The phone call came at the stroke of midnight. Rafe had just gotten away from a lengthy discussion with his father regarding the open properties around Kildare and wanted nothing more than to crash out. But he answered without hesitation when your name flashed across the screen.

"No," he pauses. "Do you need me?"

You do, but you're reluctant to confirm that piece of information. Flattening your lips on the other line, you rub the back of your hand over your tired eyes as a prolonged silence engulfs the call.

But Rafe understands. With a firm I'm coming over, he disconnects the call to pick up his keys.

You've been home for a couple days now, having stayed at Tannyhill for a little over a week. However, with Sarah's return, you felt you'd overstayed your welcome and needed to part ways. Despite Rafe's protests, you insisted, needing to find your own space in the aftermath of everything.

He had hated the way you phrased it. That you needed a place without him.

When he reaches your driveway, Rafe discerns two silhouettes on your porch. Adrenaline spikes, assuming it was Aaron—and that was the reason for your distress call—but upon closer inspection, with the headlights of his car glaring in that direction, the clarity hits.

Maybank and Heyward.

His stomach twists at the realization that he wasn't your first recipient. That you went back to your roots before coming to him. Now, more than ever, Rafe has a bleeding need for some security, to be your first choice.

He doesn't like to be set in the backseat to a pair of Pogues.

Turning off the ignition, Rafe exits the vehicle just as Heyward and Maybank launch from your porch steps with rigid defense. Their eyes narrow at him in suspicion as he stalks up the long pebbled pavement.

"What are you doing here, Rafe?" Pope interrogates in lieu of a greeting.

Rafe scoffs, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "How is that any of your business, Pogue?"

JJ jumps in. "If you're here for Aaron—"

"I'm not," Rafe snaps, not liking any association with the loan shark, before admitting, "She called me."

A moment of suspense punctures the air before JJ disrupts it, shaking his head with disbelief. "Bullshit. Why the fuck would she contact a Kook?"

It's an insult, the way Maybank's lips curled with the title and Rafe huffs. He doesn't owe him any explanation and certainly won't give one. Stepping forward, Rafe attempts to enter your house, only for the two boys to block his path.

"Move," Rafe commands lowly.

Pope tries to meditate. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but she's been through some things and we don't want any more problems—"

Rafe doesn't bother listening to whatever else he has to say. He knows. He knows what you've been through and he's here because of it, not to add to it. But the accusation is thick on Pope's tongue, fueling his irritation. He attempts to shove past both of them, only for JJ to push back.

Shouting stirs you awake. That's a lie. You've been staring at the ceiling for the past hour, hoping it'll lull you to sleep, only for the act to be unproductive. When you start to hear sounds coming from outside, you know Rafe arrived.

Pushing past the screen door, you step out onto the porch to witness JJ and Rafe in the middle of a standoff.

Charged words thrown back and forth, you recognize the dark look behind Rafe's gaze as JJ keeps pushing Rafe's chest—one full of deep agitation, seconds away from snapping.

Your stomach flips with nausea.

"Back off, JJ," you announce sharply to the open yard, causing the trio to direct their attention to you. You briefly connect your gaze with Rafe before turning to the younger blond. "I called him."

JJ's hands drop from Rafe's chest, taking a step back, but there's a look of unsteadiness behind his gaze. Confusion spreads across his hard features while his mouth twists into an ugly scowl. "For what?"

"Does it matter?" You refute, avoiding his question. JJ cocks his head, only for you to add, "You can go home now."

JJ frowns, turning to Pope as they exchange a silent debate. When all Pope could give is a casual shrug, knowing it's your decision at the end of the day, JJ turns back to you.

"You could've let us stay," JJ reasons, throwing a harsh glance over his shoulder at Rafe. "What could a Kook do for you?"

"It's fine. He's my…" You trail off, unable to find the right words to label Rafe. Your initial ideas are too compromising. And Rafe doesn't want your relationship to be seen as complicated to the Kook public, since your interactions could circulate back to Ward. But here, in the sanction of The Cut, you know there's no intersection. No need for security. You shake your head with a tired yet reassuring smile. "It's okay. I appreciate you guys' help."

Rafe hates how you didn't say it.

With a heavy sigh, JJ nods. "Alright," he says, clapping his hands and signaling Pope to descend off the porch. They pair off as they head home and, sparing one last glance at Rafe—who's ascending up the short steps to approach you—JJ bids a final farewell. "Call us if you need anything."

Rafe's arm wraps protectively around your waist. "She won't."

You roll your eyes, shoulders relaxing from their rigid stance, as you watch their departing figures. Once they're no longer in view, you take his arm and tug him into your house.

The short stroll to your bedroom is mostly silent and Rafe takes inventory of your home for any disturbance. Since he ordered that cleaning service, your house is significantly cleaner. You had initially refused his charity but he refused to take no for an answer and you ended up with a grade-A cleaning company that polished your home from all the broken debris and dangerous hazards.

But that wasn't the problem.

When Rafe steps into your bedroom, it's an absolute mess. Pillows are skewed across the floor, your sheets wrinkled and tangled upon each other, and piles of your clothes are thrown together into a pile next to your closet. It greatly contrasts the environment outside your door.

"Shit," you mumble, embarrassment flooding through your body. You move from his touch to do some quick cleaning—throwing your pillows back on the bed, picking up dirty clothes, and tossing them into the hamper.

Abashment increases with each of your frantic steps, to the point that Rafe has to grab your elbow to stop you in place. "Hey," he says softly, lifting your gaze to his, "I don't mind."

You don't say anything. Fatigue pours into the very crevices of your bones. But despite the urge to be presentable, Rafe is a comfort. A clutch. And it's getting dangerous seeing how much you lean on him.

It's on the tip of your tongue to push him away. To tell him to go back home. But he beats you to it, glancing at the door.

"Where's your sister?" Rafe asks. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine," you answer, "They're sleeping."

You assumed Amara and Leilani would deal with the same troubles as you, but when you checked up on them, they were out like a light.

Rafe examines you carefully: the way you shift your weight from one leg to the next, the way your hands slightly tremble, and the clear indication of sleep deprivation from the darkened shades ringed around your eyes.

He understands now.

"And you're not?"

Your jaw locks before unwinding. "I'm sorry."

He wants to eradicate that phrase from your vocabulary.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," he argues. "You have a problem and you called me. I'm here to help."

Rafe's words are adamant and warms your chest but guilt presses like glass against your heart. "Were you busy?"

"Doesn't matter."

You frown. But the look in his eyes is genuine and honest. You take a step back to separate from him, needing your own air. As of late, everything you own is his. "I…" You exhale a large breath, voice shaky. "I don't know. I don't know what's wrong."

"Is it because of Aaron?"

You hesitate before nodding once.

"Have you seen him?"

"No, and I think that's the problem." You expel another breath. "I'm on edge all the time. My chest feels heavy and tight and my head hurts." You pause, before choking out. "I'm just so exhausted."

Rafe closes the distance and wraps his strong arms around you as you sink into his chest. You inhale, taking in the faded smell of his cologne.

"I hate this," you mumble, balling the fabric of his shirt into fists. "I hate that I can't sleep. I hate that I'm always stressed. I hate that—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to reveal too much. Swallowing hard, you attempt to salvage your words. "I just hate that I'm like this."

Frustration oozes out of you and Rafe hates to see you in this state. However, he'll admit, having you vulnerable and open is a welcoming change. You're allowing him a chance to see a side of you no one else has the privilege to and he deeply treasures your trust.

He'll do anything to preserve it.

Rafe massages delicate circles into the small of your back, soothing the aches in your bones as you melt into his arms. "It's okay," he reassures with a sweet mumble, "I'm here. What do you need from me?"

"I just want to sleep."

"Then we'll sleep."

"No sex." You withdraw enough for him to meet your solemn gaze, "No touching. I don't want to do anything other than sleep."

"Okay." He agrees slowly, his voice is unsteady because of your accusatory tone.

"I'm serious, Rafe," you proclaim. "I know we like to mess around, but I'm too tired. I don't want to fuck tonight."

Rafe's expression is unreadable, stonewalling his emotions the moment those words slipped from your lips. Did you think he only sees you as a fuck buddy?

"I said okay," he snaps, a little sharper than intended, but you pretend not to acknowledge it. You misunderstand it as him being upset over the celibacy rule imposed tonight, but that wasn't the case.

You swallow hard, not wanting his aggression to roll over into bed. "Rafe," you begin, feeling guilty, "if you don't want to, it's fine—"

"I never said that," he cuts you off, not wanting the implication to be read that he doesn't want you here. He does. It hurts him that you think he sees you as nothing—when that's far from the truth. He just can't seem to say it. "I just..." His jaw tightens. "Let's just go to bed."

Your lips pull together into a thin line, wanting to address the issue, but deciding you cannot handle an argument tonight. Nodding, you separate from him and move to one side of the bed. Rafe does the same.

You thought Rafe would take some precaution to add distance between you but he doesn't. You can feel the overwhelming radiation of his body heat, the indication of his proximity in close range, and it causes your breath to be still.

You can't handle it. You need distance. You need space. It's too intimate otherwise, and you can't afford that.

Pulling yourself to the ledge, with your back facing Rafe, you inhale a deep set of breaths to soothe the tension in your body. To pretend you don't feel the heat of his gaze. "Goodnight."

He doesn't answer at first, before he reciprocates with a night and you close your eyes to sleep.

Rafe watches you. The first few minutes are normal, but as time passes, you can't seem to relax in your position. Twisting and turning, your eyes remain closed throughout. The only sound is the soft breaths escaping you to indicate your sleepy state—or, at least, the closest attempt at it.

His mind still lingers on your earlier words. Do you think he doesn't care about you? Beyond intimacy? Is that why you called Maybank and Heyward first?

Rafe never thought you had an issue with it. That you were perfectly content with the arrangement. But the accusation on your tongue gave a different interpretation. Do you want more? Or, is he driving himself insane with the idea of you being his and only his?

Lost in the spiral of his own thoughts, Rafe didn't even realize that you moved closer. Your back now facing the wall as one of your arms extends outward, draped across his chest.

He freezes. Rafe assumes it's an accident, something you'll retract in a matter of seconds. But when your arm reaches out again, seeking the curve of his neck, he realizes it isn't.

You want him.

Taking it as a sign, Rafe lowers himself to grab the underside of your thigh, pulling your weight onto him. The moment you're in his embrace, chest resting against his, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. And, in return, Rafe nuzzles into the open crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"No touching, huh?" He mumbles into the softness of your skin as a gentle taunt. But when there's nothing but the sound of shallow breaths and the emptiness of replies, Rafe realizes you truly fell asleep.

You reached for him unconsciously.

His heart races at the implication, before calming to a normal rate, matching the steady guided pace of your own breaths. His grip around your body tightens, squeezing the soft flesh because, at that moment, he doesn't ever want to let you go.

"You need me," Rafe murmurs the confirmation in the column of your throat, hoping the words would sink through. "And I need you too."

—

By morning, you're gone.

It shouldn't come as a surprise. Every time he spends the night, there's a brief hope that the outcome for the morning will be different. That you'll remain in his arms, sleeping soundly. It never happens. And despite the subtle ache in his bones from the weight of your body on top of his all night, it beats the ache in his heart.

Sighing, after washing up, Rafe exits your bedroom to discover you sitting on one of the stools. A leg propped on the flat seat, your chin rests on your kneecap while you're flipping through some old documents.

"Morning," Rafe says, falling into the space next to yours.

"Shit," you swear, nearly jumping out of your own skin, a hand covering your accelerated heart. You hadn't heard him coming. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he apologizes sincerely, his eyes scanning over your refreshed face. "You sleep okay?"

You nod, recalling the memory of this morning. Curled up on his arms, head buried in the curve of his neck, your body pressed against his. At first, you assumed Rafe had pulled you in, but that wasn't possible. He wouldn't go against your directive. It was all you.

The corner of his mouth rises at the recognition dawning on your face. Before he gets the chance to make some comment about your neediness, you cut him off. "Don't," you warn, feeling a rush of heat rising to your cheeks.

"I haven't said anything,"

"I see it on your face,"

He scoffs, but the smile remains. "You're right," he relents, leaning closer, shortening the distance between you until he's right before you. "I was thinking of it."

Your eyes catch him and the teasing glint behind his gaze, causing your breath to shorten. You expel a breath, trying to release some tension in your shoulders, before you clarify, "All we did was sleep."

"Yeah, but you slept on me," his voice drops a full octave, "Admit it, sweetheart, you want me. Why else would you want me here?"

You search his face, trying to figure out what he wants. What he's trying to get out of you. But you find nothing tangible. Refusing to put yourself in another position of vulnerability when Rafe has done nothing to balance the scale, you scale back, adding space. "I just—I needed someone I trust."

You don't acknowledge that his assertion is correct. That the one time you fell asleep peacefully was in his arms. Or, perhaps, it wasn't necessarily about trust but about him. Instead, you pretend it's something else, something vague and general, hoping one day it will.

"Someone," Rafe repeats. "Or me?"

You avoid the question.

And Rafe assumes the former.

Dropping your gaze to the files, the air stiffens into a palpable silence. Your fingers thread through the records, pretending to search for something, when all you can feel is the thumping of your heartbeat in your veins.

Rafe releases a sigh. The elation of his state quickly deflates after your rejection. Again. He doesn't know how much longer he can take before it truly destroys him. Deciding to shift the conversation elsewhere, he asks, "Do you want me to stay again?"

"No, it's fine," you shake your head, dismissing the proposition out of habit. Even though it would bring you peace, the rational side of your brain determines the distance necessary to protect yourself. Becoming too reliant on Rafe would add nothing but pain. "You can go home," you pause, considering how to lighten the mood, "I bet the mattress here sucks in comparison to your one-million thread counts, huh?"

There's a strain to your voice; a telltale sign. Rafe ignores your words and focuses on what he does best: reading your body language. With squared shoulders and an avoidant gaze, he knows your words are far from the truth. You just don't know how to ask for what you want.

So, he proposes a different question.

"But can you sleep?"

You don't answer.

"I'll stay then," he decides, as if he's reading an item off a menu. Before you get a chance to object, Rafe shifts closer, tugging the corner of a document. "What's this?"

Your mouth closes, shoulders slouching from how quickly he changes the topic. It almost makes you smile. Deciding it would be better than fighting it, you explain that you're reviewing your Sailor bank accounts to see what money you can spare without harming the business. However, the issue is that you can't seem to find any gaps.

Rafe's brows furrow together as he listens, asking permission to take a look at your statements himself. His eyes scan through the billing, before asking. "Why don't you sell the business and work elsewhere?"

"You're not funny," you declare, attempting to pull the document away, but his grip remains firm. His eyes are set on yours.

"I'm not joking," he declares. "It could help a lot. I mean, you'll earn more than what you're earning here."

He isn't wrong. At this point in time, you would profit more by working as a bartender than a business owner. But that's not the point.

"Sailor is my family's legacy," you explain, believing his question was not an attack on your qualification but rather from a strictly logical standpoint. "It and my sisters are the most important things in my life."

Rafe hums, and he doesn't add anything else. You don't know if he gets it. "Let me ask you something: why do you want Cameron Development so badly?"

He goes rigid. He's never been asked that question before. Never had to articulate his reasoning. It makes him uncomfortable to be interviewed—especially if it's to you of all people. "I don't know," he declares noncommittally, glancing at his lap, "I always assumed I would get it. I'm the oldest."

You shake your head. Not out of mistrust, but because you know him. Rafe isn't as simple-minded as the rest of Kildare likes to believe. There has to be more. "I don't believe that," you say gently, "Try again."

His expression morphs into a charming smile. A facade to hide. "Do I get something if I talk?"

You roll your eyes. "It's always sex with you, isn't it?"

His smile drops, but you don't pick it up. He shouldn't have said that, but it's too late. Your expression is easygoing and loose, a detachment to your words as if you truly believe and accept that perception of how he views you.

Instead of addressing his feelings, he tries to articulate what he meant before.

"I don't know," Rafe starts again, in a low mumble, his voice more vulnerable than it was moments prior. "Business was the one thing I got. I... I didn't excel in academics and I didn't like sports that much. But with Cameron Development, it was the one thing me and my dad could sit down and talk about and I didn't feel like a big disappointment to him."

He never said those words out loud before, and the confession sounds pathetic, but the way your eyes soften and your head nods along as you listen with no judgment, it gives him the confidence to continue forward.

"I... I get it, you know? The numbers don't scare me and the logic makes sense. It's the one thing I have going for me and to know that my dad is considering giving it to Sarah... It hurts. Like, she has everything and I can't even have the one thing I'm good at."

His voice cracks at the end, and his gaze has since dropped to the floor, hands messing and rubbing the calloused skin of the other.

You reach forward to cup the side of his face, and lift his head, meeting his sensitive gaze. "It isn't fair," you run the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone, trying to soothe the ache of his admission. "It truly isn't. I wish I could make it better for you."

Too gentle. Too loving. In the comfort of your touch, Rafe speaks before he can stop himself. "Sometimes I think if I have you, I'll be fine with the world."

Your breathing stills. Rafe did too. You don't know if you misheard him, or if he's implying something else, but before you can seek clarification, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it." Rafe swiftly pulls away, moving to the exit. His hands clench by his side, teeth grinding, regret coursing through his veins at the mistake of letting his emotions overtake him back there.

He shouldn't have said that.

When he opens the door, without checking the peephole, JJ stands behind it.

"Oh, you're still here," JJ declares with a hint of bewilderment. "Didn't think she kept dogs past noon."

Rafe's already on edge from the previous conversation that he has little patience for the Pogue. Seconds away from slamming the door on Maybank's smug face, you appear by Rafe's side, stopping him and inviting JJ in. He steps into your living room, holding something in his hands.

"What's that?" You point to the crumpled note, before recognizing his nervous stance. JJ's bouncing on the heel of his feet, avoiding your gaze, and when you repeat your question, more firmly this time, he reluctantly holds the note out.

"Someone left this at your bar," JJ explains as you take it. Your eyes quickly scan the message, your heart sinking with every word you read. "It's a warning. If you don't... If you don't pay him back in full tomorrow, he'll do something to your bar."

Rafe's watching your reaction with a hardened look. His eyes keep sliding over to JJ, the Pogue being the messenger of the news—the one you sought help from before—and the blond feels the heat of his stare on him. Consequently, it forces JJ to grab your elbow and pull you off to the side, away from Rafe.

JJ begins. "Look, I know you don't wanna do it, but my dad knows a guy—"

"No."

"He's been through with Aaron before," he whispers back sharply, "It might be the only option you have."

"And get stuck in the same shit I had with Aaron? No," you declare firmly, reading the note again. It does nothing to soothe the heightened nerves in your body. The way panic is ricocheting inside your stomach like a ping-pong ball.

JJ says nothing, the absolute behind your tone quiets him. While you're preoccupied with another read-through, JJ glances back to where Rafe stands.

"I gotta ask," JJ starts again, lowering his voice so only you can hear. You lift your head from the note, meeting his curious gaze, with a raise of your brow. "Rafe? Seriously?"

While you're trying to figure out how to maintain your livelihood, JJ is concerned about your love life.

"Is this really the time and place?"

"I'm serious, what do you see in him?"

"Drop it, JJ."

"I just don't understand," he continues in a whisper, but his volume raises slightly, "I swear, you're a pretty girl. You can do 10x better than him—"

"JJ," you command sternly, all amusement vanishes. "Drop it."

"Fine," he stays, stepping back with both hands partially raised to his collar. He doesn't turn to catch another glimpse at Rafe, but instead, offers the same advice as he did before. "If you need my help, you know where to find me."

Rafe watches as the Pogue leaves, stepping out to your porch and closing the door behind him. But his breath remains ragged. He caught the last bit of JJ's hushed words, and as much as he wanted to be sensible, he didn't like it.

You're different than Rafe, he understands that. You have a support system, a list of other people, and sometimes—as much as he hates to admit—they are better than him. Less volatile. Less emotional.

But it feels like you're pushing him away. Placing him as a last line of defense for all your troubles. The insecure parts of him are roaring—louder than his rational thoughts can ever be—telling him that he's the last choice. The last option.

He can't help but wonder. If Leilani hadn't called him, would you have? Or would it be JJ or Pope?

Rafe rounds the couch to approach you, his hand circles your wrist holding the note. Your head lifts to meet his harsh gaze.

"You don't need his help," he declares gruffly, "I could've done it."

You blink. "What?"

"The note at the bar," he gestures to the crumpled paper in your hands, before dropping his to his side, clenching down to a fist. "I could've taken care of it."

"I... I didn't ask him. He did it himself."

Rafe isn't convinced. "And last night with Maybank and Heyward, that was all them too?"

His tone is sharp and accusatory, leaving you lightheaded as you stare at him. You're still wrapped up around the threatening note, but Rafe is somewhere else. A different topic. Another issue. You can't seem to gauge what type of response you need to have. And in turn, you give him silence.

His anger rises. "Am I just your second choice? Your fucking backup plan because those Pogues don't cut it?"

Your head is spinning, and you attempt to pull away from his grip but he tightens it. "Rafe," you start slowly, your breathing quickens, "What are you talking about?"

Are you being ignorant on purpose? Are you trying to drive him mad? His fury erupts, flooding all his senses.

"Them!" Rafe points to the door, where JJ left moments ago. "Last night. Everything. Did you ask them before you asked me?"

It's starting to catch up. "Are you serious?"

"I told you that we'll figure it out together."

"I—" Your throat burns. You can't believe he's letting his jealousy about your friends come at a perilous stage in your life. Exhaling a sharp breath, you meet his stare head-on. "They appointed themselves to that role. I never asked that of them."

After Pope discovered the break-in, JJ and him formed a pact to take it upon themselves to watch over you while you're home. They traded off shifts, entertaining themselves on the porch where they set up a makeshift couch and hammock to crash. You had tried to convince them you were fine, but they were stubborn. They wouldn't listen. And at the time, you appreciated the extra protection.

But it didn't work. You couldn't sleep. You still needed him.

Does he not get that?

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with contempt, "You never ask for anything."

"Are you really trying to start a fight right now?"

"Are you making it a fight?"

"They're my friends, Rafe," you emphasize, "I told you that."

"I'm not talking about that."

"Then what is it?"

His jaw is set, resistance churning through his system to shut the fuck up, but he can't hold it in. He finds himself asking, half in plead, half in confession, "What am I?"

You weren't expecting that. Your lips part, but no words follow through. His hard gaze is on you, waiting for an explanation, but you don't answer fast enough. It's killing him. His next words are a shimmering calm, in a deadly whisper, "Do you think I only want you for sex?"

Your heart squeezes in your chest, taking all your air alongside it. You think you lost your ability to speak, but when you do, it comes out small. "Don't you?"

You're turning the question back onto him, and he hates it. He's trying to get the words out of you, to see where he stands, but neither of you is willing to take that step. It reduces him to silence.

You can't believe it. He can ask, but he can't answer. Frustration fills you, searing hot and explosive. You don't stop yourself from saying, "Because last I remember, whenever you had a problem, you came over to fuck." You snap, your emotions rising to a crescendo, "And when I asked you what we are..." You trail off, losing your voice. The sting of his label still hasn't passed.

But he knows what you're referring to.

"That's different."

"How?"

Rafe doesn't speak. All he knows is it's different. He has feelings for you. Before he refused to acknowledge it, now, it's bleeding into everything he touches. Everything he does. He just can't seem to say it.

"That was before."

Your brows pull together, your anger pulsating through your veins. "Before what? Before Aaron broke into my house?"

"No," he declares, his response is a knee-jerk reaction, but it wasn't the right one. Attempting to rectify, Rafe stammers, "Well, yes, but it's just... It's..."

Why can't he fucking tell you?

He's afraid of being first.

"It's pity?" You supply, not bothering to conceal the hurt in your tone. "Everything is just pity?"

"No!" He exclaims, but it isn't right. It still isn't good enough.

"Then what is it?" You demand, trying to get a hold of your emotions. But you're seconds away from screaming, or crying, or both. You rip your hand from Rafe's grip, taking a step back to conserve yourself.

His gaze falls to his empty hands, his emotions choking him. Every attempt at saying the right words causes him to shrink, feeling small, feeling like a child reaching for their parent's love, only to be pushed aside and dismissed. His walls are for protection, but it destroys as much as it save him.

Rafe decides to settle on something easy. "I'm your boyfriend."

"Fake," you correct.

"Does this feel fucking fake to you?"

You reel back. All your anger dissipates. All your resentment, hurt, and frustration disappear once those words leave his lips. And you're left with a burning clarity. Your chest constricts, your heart hammering. But you can't seem to answer him. You want him to say it first. "You tell me."

Rafe can't. It took all of him to admit such a thing.

You watch him with bated breath, but only to be disappointed again. His dark blue eyes are piercing, rich with emotions, but none of them are vocalized. None are honest. You can’t do this. You can’t go through another second of this uncertainty. You’re tunneling towards heartbreaking misery. So, you turn to leave.

But Rafe catches your wrist and pulls you back. His lips slam into yours, knocking the wind from your lungs.

He pours everything into this kiss; all his desperation, vulnerability, and truth. His action demonstrates everything his words can’t. And while you reciprocate with the same passion, reality grounds you, and you draw back, shaking your head. “Rafe—“

He kisses you again. Hoping it’s enough. Begging it to be. He can’t say it. He doesn’t know why he can’t fucking say it. He wants this to be enough.

You push back again, and this time, his arm wraps around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. You’re breathing hard as Rafe stares down at you while you’re looking at his chest.

He says your name. You refuse to look up.

He says it again. More firmly. You don’t acknowledge.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, softening his words, and you find yourself crying. Tears crowd your waterline as you shake your head, refusing to be persuaded by the sweet sound of your endearment.

“No,” you choke out, slamming a weak fist against his chest. “Let me go. I can’t—I don’t—I’m not doing this.”

You finally tilt your head up to look at him. The way he stares at you with such tenderness. You can’t seem to discern it from pity. “I can’t.” You sob, “If this is how you’re playing me, I can’t keep doing this anymore. You’re breaking my heart.“

Then it finally hits him.

All your resistance. It was never rejection. It was the complete opposite. Coupled with the same fears he had; the same emotions he didn’t know how to express. He’s been so blind to it.

He should’ve known. He should’ve read it the same way he’s been reading everything else.

It finally gave him the confidence nothing else has.

“I fucking love you.”

You are completely still. You think you're hearing him wrong, that this is just a way of your brain deluding you and calming your irrational state of mind, but it's real. Your lips part, breathing shallow, all while you're staring back into Rafe's eyes.

He's afraid. Rafe doesn't trust his own instincts. Everything about you makes him question himself. And while he gained a fleeting moment of courage, he doesn't know if it will follow through. On the off-chance that, despite all this, all the signs he read, he was wrong and it will be rejection.

"Say it back," Rafe whispers in a plea. It's pathetic, but he no longer cares. "Say it back or I'm going to lose my fucking mind."

"You love me?" You breathe in a whisper, unable to move on from this moment. Rafe squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing thickly, before nodding once.

“I think I loved you since I first met you,” he confesses. “I just didn’t know it yet.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

Rafe bristles, “You think I go around telling people I love them?” He declares, studying your expression, trying to gauge your reaction, but it’s hard when he’s blinded by the crippling fear that you don’t feel the same. “You think I do this for anyone?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “I just don’t want you to say something you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it,” he declares, his voice suddenly dry, as he finds your gaze. “I… I’m sorry for before when I said things I didn’t mean. I don’t want you just for sex, I don’t see you as just a fuck buddy. I’m… I’m in love with you, and it’s fucking difficult to tell you that.”

Your lips purse together, but you still don’t answer him. Don’t confess your own side. Instead, you ask in a meek voice, “Since the beginning?”

He huffs. He can’t believe he’s admitting so much today. Revealing things he swore he’d keep hidden behind a locked box. But when he finds the light returning in your eyes, trying to gauge more of his reaction, read his true meaning, finding comfort in his words, he’ll rip out his own soul to keep it there. “Since the beginning. When you called me out, when you patched me up, when you slapped me—“ That bit makes you let out a small laugh, “I don’t think I was going to meet anyone who challenges and accepts me the way you do.”

You don’t say anything for the next few moments. And they were the longest seconds of his life. Rafe had to speak, “And if it’s just me, if I’m the only person who feels this way, I’ll find a way to be okay with that—“

You cut him off with a kiss.

“I love you,” you breathe into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you,” you jump, curving your legs around his hips as Rafe catches you, steadying you with two hands tantalizing skimming the curve of your ass. “Fuck, Rafe, I love you so much.”

His heart fills with your words. Your desperation clinging to each puncture. He grins into the kiss, before he deepens it, tasting you, stealing your air. Everything feels right. Feels good. When Rafe separates to break the kiss, he catches the residue smile on your face and the little daze behind your eyes. He snaps a memory of it and saves it forever.

But, just as it came, it slowly faded away. Reality quickly dawns on you, and your arms tightens around Rafe’s neck, reminders and deadlines creeping up your skin. Your confession comes out small. “I… I’m scared. With Aaron and everything.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I don’t have the money, Rafe,” your eyes connect with his. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Rafe pulls you in, flushed against his chest as your head lays on his shoulders and his hand strokes your hair. It takes a moment for him to process, to remember the world outside of you. But, when he does, he whispers, “I’m going to take care of it,” his voice so low, it almost comes out as a threat. “I’ll take care of you.”

And he will.

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heesdreamer · 6 months

Text

FIRST SUMMER

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ you and your bestfriends brother (possibly your mortal enemy) are both given the task of renovating your childhood lake house during the final summer before it’s sold

WARNINGS ➩ light smut, heeseung and reader aren’t super nice to each other most the time

WC ➩ 14.5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Well.. officially out of retirement with this one I hope! I started this august of last year and abandoned it during my hiatus so picking up where I left off was a bit difficult and I apologize for any changes in writing styles. This isn’t my favorite thing I’ve written but I hope you guys enjoy it, thank you always for waiting for me. NOT PROOFREAD NO PART 2

You wondered if Lee Heeseung had been put on this earth for the sole purpose of making your life more difficult.

He’d probably argue this assumption with the fact he had been born before you, his main reasoning behind his many claims that you were the one copying him and making his life a living hell and not the other way around. He was a measly two years older than you but never failed to bring it up and use it against you.

Heeseung had been in your life for as long as you could remember and you absolutely never got along.

It wasn’t a big issue at first considering you were kids and had no real need to be around each other. The playgrounds were big enough for the both of you and your parents saw no reason to force a connection between the two of you, despite the fact you were neighbors and the two pairs of adults actually got along quite well.

Similarly to you and Heeseung’s little sister, a small girl who was born in the same year as you but nearly your polar opposite in personality. At first you’d been hesitant when she started to show up to play with the older boy, knowing him by now as the enemy and assuming she was going to be just as wicked and terrible. It only took watching her push him down onto wood chips once for you to decide to be her best friend.

The boy had scowled from his place on the ground, grumpily picking pieces of the wood from the fabric of his sweater and watching the two of you run off together towards the swings.

He’d failed to understand the power of your friendship in that moment and now 15 years later he was still paying the price, stuck with the two of you constantly. You and Jiwoo almost seemed more like siblings than they did, attached at the hip and never going too long without talking to each other.

Which is why it was all the more annoying that you and Heeseung could never seem to get along, reverting right back to being two kids arguing on the playground every time you saw each other, which was quite often. You’d practically moved into the Lee’s house next door during high school and you were even a frequent guest on their family vacations, their mom booking a place with an extra bed for you before she even asked if you were available.

You weren’t exactly sure why the two of you didn’t get along. He was nice enough to other people and sometimes he cracked jokes that nearly made you laugh, only nearly. For some reason he just brought out a terrible side of you that you didn’t really understand and you were certain you did the same for him.

It was easier now that you were out of school and entering adulthood, not having any major reasons to constantly see each other and his parents didn’t have to force him to drive you and Jiwoo around places now that you had your own cars.

He was definitely still around though and you were trying your best to act civilly despite that inner part of you always preparing for an argument to break out between you.

Especially right now considering the fact he kept kicking your leg underneath the table at the restaurant both your families were eating together at. The Lee’s cousin was in town and you’d always been particularly interested in him, being a total sucker for an accent and a good beach tan.

You sent a glare to your right in Heeseung’s direction when he kicked you for the third time and jammed your heel against the bone in his leg, ignoring the grunt of pain he let out as he bent slightly forward to grab onto his shin. His mom sent him a concerned glance before remembering who he was sitting next to and rolling her eyes as she looked away from the two of you.

You were watching Jake as he talked animatedly about his life guarding job back in his hometown, leaning forward and resting your chin on your palm to show your interest despite the fact you weren’t fully listening.

It was difficult to considering the constant distraction sitting beside you, another kick being sent to the leg of your chair so you jolted slightly to the side. You whipped your head around to look at him again, immediately replacing your interested and awed look with one of hatred and disgust.

“What the hell is your problem?” You were spitting at him in a low whisper, grateful the table was big enough that the others weren’t really paying attention to you. Although they had to have expected an argument eventually considering they sat the two of you together, breaking an unspoken rule that had been built up throughout the years.

“Stop trying to seduce my cousin.” He was spitting back and his eyebrows were pulled down tight in a sharp glare, keeping eye contact with you in an attempt to intimidate you.

“Mind your own business.” Your response was quick and tight, slightly embarrassed he’d caught you staring but too angry to care.

You turned back to try and focus in on the conversation again but now you were suddenly overly aware of the fact Heeseung was sitting next to you and watching what you were doing, looking for any opportunity to tease you and start up an argument. You sighed softly and leaned back in your chair with crossed arms, keeping a scowl on your face and letting the dinner pass by without speaking again.

“You know, I figured the two of you would eventually start getting along once you became adults.” Your mothers tone was laced with lighthearted disappointment after the dinner, walking ahead of you on the rock path leading up to your front door.

You could hear your father laughing softly in front of her at the idea of your life long feud being laid to rest, a frown instinctively coming up on your face at their inside joke.

Glancing over to the side, looking past the small stretch of grass that separated your pathway from the Lee’s, you saw Heeseung sporting a similar dejected expression and you wondered for a second if he was hearing the same lecture you’d been getting after dinners for as long as you can remember. Then he was looking over towards you and meeting your gaze in the low light of the summer sun setting, eyes immediately hardening into a glare that you quickly returned.

It was hard not to think about it later on in bed, eyes trained on the old plastic stars on your ceiling that didn’t glow anymore. Your hands were folded on your stomach and you were tapping your thumbs softly on the smooth skin in contemplation.

Sometimes, although you’d rather die than admit it to anyone, you also didn’t understand why you and Heeseung didn’t just stop fighting.

He was kind to Jiwoo in a way that always made you envy having siblings and despite his constant teasing he never declined driving her places or picking up food for her when she didn’t feel like going out. And he was even kinder to your parents, treating them like his own and having manners enough for the three of you growing up.

It was like you were dealing with a completely different person, him falling into that same angry glare the moment you’d step into a room. Sometimes he’d be mid story with a group of friends, being charming and funny as he recanted something and exaggerated moments to get a few more chuckles. You’d watch from a far for a bit and then slowly approach and every single time he’d pause for a moment, looking completely thrown off by your arrival, and then tensing up and losing track of what he was saying.

Your presence just seemed to bug him and as the two of you got older it affected you more. You didn’t mind the fact he wouldn’t play with you when you were kids, never dwelled over him saying you had cooties or getting dirt on your favorite stuffed animals.

But the fact he still continued to hate you as you aged and matured, settling into your respective personalities and lives, you couldn’t help but be offended he disliked you so much.

“He’s just weird.” Jiwoo had explained to you once when you were both seventeen, sprawled out on her bed and flipping through a magazine as she addressed you. “You shouldn’t think too deeply about it.”

Heeseung had just graduated high school and you’d all attended the ceremony, both families getting reserved seats per his request.

It had actually gone well for once, he didn’t seem upset that you were there and he had even hugged you alongside your parents when he came off the stage and your mother handed him a bouquet of celebratory flowers. Mrs. Lee had shot you a surprised glance and then a supportive thumbs up and you gave her a soft smile in return, figuring he was just so excited to have graduated that he was managing to tolerate you being there.

The Lee’s had taken advantage of the fact your backyards combined into each other, no fencing between them, and the two pairs of parents had decorated the space for a small party for the older boy.

You were excited to go, especially since Heeseung hadn’t demanded an explanation for your invitation, and you even managed to make some good amount of conversation with a few of his friends.

The conversation was swiftly interrupted when you felt a hand wrapped around the middle of your arm, tugging you a few inches backwards to get your attention. You whipped around to see who it was and you were met with an angry looking Heeseung, looking more familiar to you than the smiley version of him you’d seen earlier.

“Why are you talking to my friends?” His voice was accusatory like you’d done something wrong and he sounded so upset that for a second you felt like you had.

Your mouth had parted in confusion, fumbling for words and coming up short from the shock of his sudden confrontation and also the embarrassment of the situation considering he wasn’t exactly being subtle with his anger and the boy behind you could definitely hear every word he was saying.

“Chill out Hee, we were just making simple conversation.” Jay proved you right by speaking from over your shoulder but you didn’t bother looking at him, keeping your eyes locked on Heeseung and wincing softly at the way his face hardened at his friend defending you. “Cmon man, I know better than to-“

“Do you know better? Because it doesn’t seem like it.” Heeseung was cutting him off at the same time he was removing his gaze from yours, breaking you slightly out of the worried spell you were under as he looked at his friend from over your shoulder.

You weren’t exactly sure what they were talking about but you assumed Heeseung had warned his friends against speaking to you. It took you back a bit, despite knowing he didn’t like you.

The two of you definitely didn’t get along but you were still very close regardless if you liked it or not and you spent a lot of time together, so it hurt you more than you expected it to that he hated you enough to actively try and keep his friends from interacting with you, enough to the point he’d embarrass you and cause a scene at the sight of it.

“Hee I’m sorry.” His eyes snapped back down towards you at the sound of your quiet voice, completely out of character for you to not be fighting back or making a snarky remark.

It seemed to throw him off enough that his anger faltered for a second, looking concerned for a moment as he stared down at you before his jaw was tightening again and his face hardened back up.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t bother to snap back at him, if it was from the embarrassment of being ripped out of a conversation and scolded like a dog who’d gotten into the trash or if it was actual disappointment at his behavior despite the fact you definitely should’ve been used to it.

“I think you should head home. Parties almost over anyways.” He was eventually saying and it was directed towards you although his eyes had dragged back over your shoulder to look at Jay.

You figured he had looked away because he was feeling slightly guilty for embarrassing you and not being fought back in return, or maybe he was disgusted with you and didn’t want to look at you.

Still, his tone wasn’t as angry anymore although just as hard and stern, and you nodded softly before stepping sideways out from between the two tall boys. You knew he was lying about the party being over soon but it had ended for you anyways and you had no issue leaving it and going to the safety of your bedroom.

Jiwoo had caught the end of the encounter and caught up with you as you speedily walked away from the boys who had started to angrily murmur at each other, hence leading to the conversation about her brother in your bedroom and her explaining he was just being weird.

“Jay is a total playboy though, you should steer clear of him.” Her nose was curling up in disgust as she made the casual comment but a small pout formed on your face, wondering if Heeseung thought you were going to hookup with his friend and that’s why he was extra aggressive about it.

Eventually you let it pass from your mind to become just another bullet point in the long list of things Heeseung had done to show you he truly disliked you.

It was a lot easier to start to dislike him back, easier to fight with him and snap insults rather than get confused and sad about why he treated you so differently. So your routine was set in stone even deeper and neither of you ever faltered, not during birthdays or relative weddings or even your own graduation two years later.

So it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to handle when your parents and the Lee’s were sitting you all down to explain that your family lake house was going to be sold at the end of the summer.

“Wait why would you ever sell it?” Jiwoo was blurting out before they got the chance to explain and you had a permanent frown on your face as you waited to hear their response.

You watched your dad and Mr. Lee exchange a heavy but meaningful look, like there was something they’d already discussed amongst themselves in regards of how to tell you. You were sat on the left of Jiwoo, Heeseung on her right and for some reason you had to resist the urge to lean forward and see what his expression was.

“We’ve decided, now that you three are all grown up, it was just time. We figured we’d use the money to travel during the summer or save towards retirement.”

It made sense as your dad started to speak but you felt a weird clenching in your stomach at the thought of not having the lake house to go to anymore.

Realistically he was completely right and you’d started to neglect the yearly trips out there, taking them for granted and not appreciating the time you got to spend at the house. You didn’t even go at all the last two years, finding yourself too caught up with things so unimportant you don’t even remember them now.

The lake house was a tradition that was instilled before any of you were even born, a collaborative effort of your parents to try and bring some fun and adventure to your summers since you grew up so close to the city.

“So it’s just gone?” Heeseung was speaking for the first time since the meeting was called and you were surprised to hear how thick his voice was with upset, clearly more affected by the breaking news than you and his sister. You caved to the urge and leaned forward a bit to try and get a look at him but Jiwoo shot you a sideways glance and you quickly sat back in place.

“Well not exactly.” Mrs. Lee’s voice was soft as always and you watched as she reached across the small space between the seven of you and gently rubbed her sons knee, giving him a soft smile and an encouraging nod. “We will have one last summer with it, mostly for renovations before the new owners come to look at it.”

You knew exactly what she was talking about when she said renovations, hearing your dad complain about the rotting in the deck and the holes in the inside walls for years now but never making the time to fix them.

But you weren’t fully understanding what they had planned for the three of you yet and you wished you had in that moment so maybe you could have come up with an excuse faster. They explained to you softly, attempting to lessen the blow, that you would have to go and stay at the lake house for a few weeks and fix up the place to make it look brand new for the new owners.

You weren’t at all against getting to be up there one last time, breathing in the clear air and having campfires on the sand, but you definitely didn’t want to sign up to spend your summer doing free manual labor.

Your parents left no room for argument and you could see the prepared disappointment on their faces so you offered no reason for it to escape, hesitantly agreeing with the plan and waiting to hear what the siblings next to you had to say about it. Jiwoo was stiff beside you and staring forward at the ground like she was in deep thought, a bad feeling washing over you at her expression.

She proved your suspicions right when she started to explain in a meek voice that she had already made plans for the first month of summer, having completely booked and paid for a vacation near the sea.

Her eyes shifted towards you as she told your parents this and you immediately furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, knowing right away she was lying and making up an excuse so she didn’t have to come with you until the second half of summer and by then the house would be mostly finished already.

To make matters worse, you didn’t even process the fact Heeseung would definitely not decline considering how much he loved the lake house and that would leave the two of you alone up there.

He seemed to piece it together a few seconds before you did and you saw the realization settle over your parents faces too.

“Woah woah wait, there’s no way I’m going with just her.” He was quick to shut down the idea, sitting up straighter and shaking his head dramatically.

You didn’t say anything in response surprisingly despite the fact everybody in the room tensed up in anticipation for a fight to break out between the two of you. You were a bit dazed from the news of losing a big piece of your childhood and you were also just tired from the day over all, already knowing Heeseung was going to reject before he’d even opened his mouth to do so.

Mr. Lee was sighing and beginning to lecture his son on being an adult and putting your differences aside for something this important but Mrs. Lee was silent and giving you a curious look that you were too afraid to try and decipher.

Eventually it was decided that the two of you would either suck it up and go to the lake house together and work on it without killing each other or you’d face the wrath of four disappointed parents. You didn’t say much about the agreement either although Heeseung had plenty of comments to make and Jiwoo was finding the entire situation pretty hilarious from an outside view.

It had been about an hour since the family meeting and you were still in the Lee’s house, leaning your hip against the counter in the kitchen and mindlessly peeling some potatoes for the stew their mother was making for dinner.

The air was hot and dry like it always was during the beginning of summer, not bothering to creep up anymore and instead it just seemed like one day it was cold and the next you could barely sleep without waking up in a puddle of sweat.

You could hear the bugs outside from the open window, loud and alive with excitement for the new season and the breeze was just barely cooling off your damp skin. Normally this would bring you the same feeling summer always did, a lightness in your chest and a heavy sense of nostalgia everywhere you went.

It wasn’t hard to guess what was dampening your mood and leaving you feeling a bit shut off, the source of the weird emotions just a staircase away upstairs in his room playing video games.

Mrs. Lee was walking into the kitchen and pausing when she saw you although you only met her eyes for a split second before quickly focusing back in on your peeling and chopping. She cleared her throat softly and came over towards where you were leaning on the counter, placing down some lettuce and starting to chop besides you.

“Something put out your fire tonight?” She was asking it casually and her voice was as soft as ever but you immediately understood what she was implying.

You glanced at her from the side of your eye before shaking your head. Mrs. Lee had a certain aura about her that always made you feel like a little kid again, vulnerable and sensitive. As much as you loved your own mother, you always envied your neighbors for having her so close growing up.

“Sometimes it just isn’t worth the argument.” Your words weren’t the least bit convincing considering how forced they sounded coming from your mouth, paired with the fact you’d never once backed down from an argument and they all seemed to be worth it to you up until this point.

You could hear her take a deep self calming breath and your hands froze where they were chopping slowly, bracing yourself for whatever she was planning to say next.

“He means well honey he just… isn’t sure how to get through to you.” She somehow sounded as certain as she did hesitant and you could feel her gentle hand patting the side of your arm softly, leaving you with your poorly sliced vegetables and dimmed fire.

——

Throughout the entire process of packing your bags and mentally preparing yourself to head up to the lake house, you’d completely forgotten the fact you’d have to ride with him the entire five hour car ride there and then back again once it was all over.

He definitely didn’t seem to miss this fact considering he was standing outside leaning against the car with a nasty scowl when you came out, dragging your suitcase behind you and nearly tripping over the step off the porch from its wobbling weight. Your mother was trailing behind to say goodbye but not offering much help when it came to loading up your stuff.

Heeseung luckily didn’t say anything to you when you were approaching, greeting your mom with a gentle but annoyed good morning and staying on the side of the vehicle when you started to attempt to load your stuff inside the trunk.

After a few groans of annoyance slipped out of you, due to the fact your bags kept tipping over back out towards you and refusing to stay still in the neat tower of things Heeseung had packed for himself, he was sighing and making his way back towards you.

You glared at him when he circled around the car, not in the mood to be berated or rushed so early in the morning, especially right before you were stuck in a car together for the entire first half of the day. Your harsh facial expression faltered a bit when he was rolling his eyes and tugging your suitcase out of your grip.

“Just go and get in the car already, you take too long.” He was spitting it at you and harshly side eyeing you before starting to load your stuff up but you didn’t bother to argue considering the gesture was nice enough if you ignored the attitude he always carried.

“Well that was sweet of him.” Your mother was whispering the words to you in a dreamy voice, nudging you softly with her elbow and eyeing Heeseung through the windows.

You paused and glared at her in confusion, a dumbfounded expression and a sneaking suspicion starting to arise considering how weird both her and Mrs. Lee have been acting in regards to the two of you and your complicated, but mostly aggressive, relationship.

“Are you kidding me?” You settled on a bewildered statement instead of grilling her about her weirdness, knowing she wouldn’t give you an answer anyways.

She had given you a shrug that you assumed was noncommittal and then hugged you tight, tighter than she’d ever had and you tensed up a bit at the embrace.

You’d gotten into the passenger seat of the car and tried not to think about how weird the dramatic send off was, tried to focus yourself on keeping calm and not letting Heeseung get to you too early on in your time being forced together. You weren’t exactly sure why you were trying to be the bigger person lately but you chalked it up to being exhausted with the back and forth.

“You’d think she was sending you off to war.” He’d made the comment as he put the car into drive and you glanced over at him, staring at the side of his face, both confused and relieved by the fact he had noticed your moms weird attitude.

“She might as well be.” You didn’t mean to sound so snippy but it was your default setting when replying to him and he didn’t seem to mind the tone, chuckling dryly under his breath and shaking his head in annoyance before focusing in on the road.

He didn’t attempt to talk to you again for another hour or two and you were grateful for the silence, giving you another opportunity at being less confrontational. It definitely wasn’t for his benefit or to be kinder to him, you just didn’t want to constantly be exhausting your energy with the effort it took to keep up with whatever set him off.

Eventually he was pulling off of the main highway and turning into a gas station that was almost completely barren, stuck in one of those sections of a road trip that was basically just fields followed by more fields.

He was getting out of the car and shifting through his pockets for his wallet before sighing and glancing at you in the passenger seat, watching him from the corner of your eye so it didn’t seem like you were staring.

“Want anything to eat or drink?” He was asking in that familiar reluctant tone he always had with you and for a second you wanted to snap at him and decline his offer, tell him to just hurry up and get what he needed so you could get back on the road.

You took a small breath instead to steady your emotions before nodding. “Yeah I’ll just… I’ll take a-“

“I know what you want.” He was cutting you off and closing the car door before you could say anything else, leaving you with parted lips and annoyance starting to simmer in the lowest part of your stomach.

You scoffed even though he wasn’t around to hear it and leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms and scowling as you waited for him to return. You highly doubted he knew what you would get from a gas station, knowing he never paid attention to you or your interest outside of finding something to fight about and it just aggravated you further that he would go as far as to ask like he cared just to not let you answer.

He didn’t take long in the gas station luckily or else you’d overthink too much and be on the verge of exploding, sniffing slightly when he slid back into his seat and passed the bag with the snacks in it.

You paused for a second to glare at him before you were taking a look into the plastic and pausing when you spotted your favorite drink and a snack you commonly ate whenever you were stressed out or particularly craving something, mixed in with things you knew he enjoyed.

“What?” He was asking from the drivers seat and he sounded weirdly awkward underneath the familiar attitude. “Is it not right or something?”

“No it’s… it’s right.” You cleared your throat and nodded softly, sitting back in your seat and closing the snack bag after you grabbed what you wanted out of it and balanced it on your lap. “Thanks.”

“Yeah whatever.” It was muttered in his low tone but you caught it anyways, finding it almost as weird as the fact you had thanked him. He was finally starting the car and starting to pull out of the gas station much to your relief and you focused back on looking out the passenger window.

The heat was reaching the point where the low quality AC in the car wasn’t doing much to cool either of you down and once he rolled his window down instead, you took the silent cue to do the same to yours.

It was still pretty dry in the air and the sweat was really starting to make you itch and worsen your mood so you were hesitantly unbuckling your seatbelt so you could sit up more in your spot and pull your sweater over your head, leaving you in just a tank top and you sighed softly in relief as the air immediately cooled down the wetness of your sweaty arms.

You could feel Heeseung’s stare from your left and you glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, rolling your eyes when he quickly scowled in return before snapping his gaze back onto the road.

It was pretty quiet for the rest of the drive, Heeseung playing the same music you often heard coming from his bedroom or his headphones when you were forced to sit close to each other in a car so you were actually able to recognize them and sing along.

Neither of you said much even when getting out of the car and starting to bring your things in, exchanging quick glares when you reached for the same bag or got in each others way but for the most part you were too relieved to finally be back somewhere that always caused your stress to melt away.

This time wasn’t any different and you took a second before you went inside with your things to take a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs and listening to the sounds of the water against the shore just off in the distance.

You couldn’t see the lake from the driveway as clearly as you could from the other side of the house where the deck was located but it was just one of those places where you could actually feel the difference in the air and the atmosphere.

“Can you hurry up? There’s plenty of time to stop and do nothing later.” Heeseung was griping at you as he passed by with another load of bags and you scowled at his back, completely removed from the peaceful moment you’d been having.

You decided to just leave it be and finish unpacking, flopping onto your back on your designated bed and panting slightly from the effort mixed with the heat once you were completely finished. Your phone had been abandoned against the span of your stomach but when it started to vibrate, you immediately knew who it was.

“So how’s it going? Have you killed my brother yet?” Jiwoo’s amused voice did nothing but amuse you further although you were struck by how much you missed her teasing.

You could hear the sounds of waves in the distance through her side of the phone, envy settling deep into your gut despite the fact you were also near water. The small lake was a lot different compared to the endless sea she was currently vacationing at, having a nice time with people who cared about her versus you being stuck with her older brother who couldn’t bother even being kind to you.

“We surprisingly haven’t really fought yet.” It came out of your mouth in a hefty sigh and you absentmindedly played with the string of your pajama shorts, pressing the phone tighter against your ear. “Think he’s downstairs getting ready for dinner.”

“Are you going to eat with him then or just hide out in our childhood bedroom?” She was asking it like it was a question but you both knew the answer already, the same accusatory tone that she always had heavy in her voice underneath the knowing smile you could practically see in front of you. “He’d probably secretly like it if you ate with him you know, I always did figure he had a crush on you.”

An automatic eye roll came over you at the sound of her baseless teasing. She often made jokes about Heeseung secretly liking you growing up, coming to the conclusion that was the reason he was always so harsh towards you.

You’d told her countless times that that was absolutely ridiculous and there was no way Heeseung liked you, let alone that he was the type of person who thought being mean to somebody was going to get them to like him back. You had seen the types of girls Heeseung brought home occasionally and he definitely knew better than to resort to elementary school level flirting methods.

She was eventually hanging up once one of her friends started to call her name, inviting her to come and swim with them.

You laid in bed for a while after the call went silent, feeling struck again with that weird lonely and nostalgic emotion that you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t normally this silent in the lake house, typically filled with doors opening and closing and the sounds of your mothers rushing around the kitchen as they cooked and your fathers cleaned.

As much as you didn’t want to, you couldn’t help but wonder if Heeseung was feeling just as weird about the whole situation as you, if he was downstairs just as lonely and unnerved by the fact it was only the two of you this summer and then nobody ever again. Your mind stuck on that thought process when you started to smell food drifting its way up the stairs and going straight to your empty stomach.

You’d planned to avoid the older boy as much as you could, especially during the first few days, but you were beyond hungry by now and you couldn’t help yourself from standing out of the bed and making your way downstairs.

He didn’t notice you for a few seconds when you first hit the bottom step, watching him for a beat as he casually moved around the kitchen and diverted his attention to three different pots and pans. He was listening to music again, something low playing from the old radio that sat in the lake house year round, and you realized how often you associated him with something soft playing.

You were completely ripped from your thought process when he was turning around and letting out a loud shriek when he saw you standing at the bottom of the stairs, dropping the bowl that was in his hands and doing a little scared hop.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He was spitting out and your mouth parted in surprise, not expecting such an extreme reaction or how loud it suddenly got. “Why are you just standing there like a weirdo?”

“What? I was not, I was just..” You started to defend yourself loudly but gave up midway and let out an annoyed grunt, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong about what you were doing and you didn’t necessarily have an explanation. “I was just coming to see what you were cooking dickhead.”

He stared at you for a few seconds with a look on his face that you didn’t really understand before he was stepping to the side and revealing the plate with a handful of burgers on it.

You looked at it before you were meeting his stare and a weird feeling passed through you while holding his gaze, not something you often did- especially not willingly. He had cooked enough for the both of you despite his attitude when you’d came down and you weren’t sure if it was intentional or just habit but the act struck you.

The two of you ended up sitting at the table and eating in awkward silence, directly across from him but feeling like he was miles away considering he hadn’t even acknowledged you being in the room once.

You couldn’t help but be hyper aware of the fact you were very rarely alone with Heeseung and this was about as alone as any two people could possibly be. He was a lot less defensive when it was just the two of you and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he almost seemed shy, making you think about the jokes Jiwoo often made.

It’s not like Heeseung was at all ugly, you’d never stoop low enough to make fun of him for something that was so clearly not true.

Especially within the last year or two, he’d completely changed both in build and confidence and you were extremely glad you didn’t have to be around him as much as you did growing up. You disliked him as a human being but you were still a person in reality and he was almost unnaturally attractive.

“Why are you staring at me again?” His voice was low across the table, speaking in an awkward mumble as he started to push what was left of his food around with his fork.

You didn’t bother denying the fact you were watching him even though you hadn’t really realized you were doing it, completely zoned out again. You figured your time in the house together was already going to be awkward no matter what so you might as well ask him what you were thinking about. “Jiwoo says you have a crush on me.”

He completely tensed up for just a split second before he was quickly switching his demeanor and letting out a heavy scoff like he found you ridiculous. You caught the small reaction and your interest peaked, sensing an opportunity to get under his skin.

“Jiwoo also watches too many romance movies.” He was quickly disregarding what you had said with a casual and bored tone but you could tell that he was clenching his fork a little tighter, avoiding looking up from his plate all together.

“So you’ve never once found me attractive?” It rolled off your tongue easily, like you were asking him something as simple as to pass the mashed potatoes, but you gave him a knowing glance from under your eyelashes.

He finally looked up at you once you said this and he seemed taken back by the way you were watching him, the expression on his face telling you he thought you were absolutely crazy for even asking this.

“What? Are you kidding me, of course I haven’t.” He was quick to deny it and you could tell he was getting irritated, hand tightening around his silverware and that familiar clench of his jaw showcasing how much your questions were bothering him. You couldn’t tell if it was because he felt embarrassed or disgusted.

You let out a soft hum of understanding and let the silence sit for a few breaths, watching as he slightly relaxed under the assumption you were done saying weird things.

“I think you’re attractive.” He had been mid bite when you finally spoke again and his body lurched forward almost like he was choking, covering his mouth when he coughed and quickly taking a sip of water to try and force down whatever he had put into his mouth before you nearly killed him.

After he calmed down he was shaking his head at you again although not looking at you, staring down at his plate like he was thinking deeply about something and for a minute you wondered if he was going to take the bait like always or if he was going to just brush you off, making your stay much more awkward.

“My sister put you up to this?” His voice was stone cold now and he clearly was slowly losing his resolve, similarly to you considering what he said had completely thrown you off.

What did Jiwoo have to do with any of this and why would he automatically think that?

“No.” You shrugged like it was a casual conversation but your heart was beating a bit faster now, sensing genuine anger from him and not just annoyance. “I just don’t see the point in lying just because we don’t like each other.”

“You think I’m attractive?” His eyebrow was quirking up now and he was narrowing his eyes, leaning forward in his seat.

He’d finally put down his fork and stopped pretending to be focusing on the food he had barely eaten, elbows on the table and his full attention on you as he waited for you to reaffirm what you had said so confidently a few seconds ago.

The confidence had definitely left your body as soon as you’d said it and actually got his attention, feeling similarly to how you did when he embarrassed you at his party despite the fact the two of you were alone.

Very alone.

Still, you held strong and pushed through the conversation and if your stomach turned at his head tilt when you gave him a small quick nod, you’d pretend it didn’t. There was no going back now and you weren’t sure what direction this scenario was heading towards.

On one hand, you knew Heeseung had to be lying. You definitely weren’t unattractive and he clearly had eyes, ones that settled on you more times than you’d wished you had noticed so he wasn’t oblivious to this fact either regardless if he wanted to pretend he was. He was a teenage boy at one point and you were prancing around his house in short skirts and bathing suits.

And on the other hand, you didn’t think it necessarily mattered.

If Heeseung found you attractive he didn’t have to say it and this would be the ultimate time to completely embarrass you, humiliate even. If he rejected you here, you’d never live it down and he’d forever hold this over you as the time he utterly destroyed your ego in one fell swoop. Plus a large part of you was hoping he wasn’t planning to do that anyways even though you weren’t exactly sure what you wanted out of this.

You had hated the boy across from you for as long as you’ve known the power of the emotion and you’d never let him and his tall build and cute hair distract you from this fact.

But you also weren’t stuck seeing him everyday now. He didn’t live at home and you rarely came around unless you were forced beyond what you could deny so the stakes were a lot less high if he reciprocated what you were saying right now.

“You’re going to have to say it.” His low commanding tone was enough to stop you from overthinking the fact this was a bad idea, an absolutely terrible idea.

It was also enough for you to shift in your chair uncomfortably so you could better squeeze your legs together, watching the way Heeseung’s eyes darkened at the movement even though there was no way he could see what you were doing underneath the table.

“I think you’re attractive Hee, don’t be weird about it.” You were pulling yourself together and standing from your seat then, completely popping the bubble of tension that had started to suffocate you.

He didn’t say anything, thankfully not correcting you on the fact you had definitely been the one who made things weird, but he watched you with a heavy expression as you hurriedly cleaned your plate and disappeared up the stairs with quick footsteps.

——

You were coming to terms with an unmeasurable amount of regret now that a few hours had passed.

The bed had become your official moping place and you stuffed your face so far into the pillow you could barely catch your breath, possibly a self punishment for your humiliating behavior. You’d given up on attempting to sleep and you couldn’t rely on Jiwoo to entertain you considering she was probably busy and you were fearful you’d slip up and confess your sins to her the second she answered.

How do you explain that you’d nearly, just barely, flirted with her brother?

If you could even call it that considering the fact he looked like he was just on the verge of throwing his plate at you the entire time. Still, it had been weird and far too bold on your part and you were strongly regretting your life decisions up until this point.

Eventually you decided that sleep was useless and not coming anytime soon and you might as well make use of the fact you were at the lake house, suddenly remembering the hot tub that was placed around the side of the large deck. It didn’t take long for you to change into your swimsuit and start to head outside but you froze up right outside the slider door.

Considering how cruel the universe had been up to this point, you should’ve expected the fact that Heeseung was already occupying the small pool of water.

You were just starting to take a step backwards with the plan to retreat back upstairs and change again into your pajamas when you decided against it, taking a deep heavy breath before pulling the door open and simultaneously alerting the boy of your presence.

He was nearly all the way in the bubbling water but you could tell he was shirtless, something you’d normally be unaffected by if it wasn’t for the conversation you had. The steam from the hot water mixing with the cold night air was covering his face for the most part but you could see him enough to tell his face had hardened at the sight of you.

His gaze was locked on you for the duration of your walk towards the tub, stopping right outside of it and taking another subtle breath to try to calm yourself down.

“Mind if I join you?” Your voice was rougher than you wanted to be, nearly giving up the fact you were affected by the awkward tensioned air and the way he was watching you still.

He made it worse by not responding out loud, giving you a subtle nod of his head that made your heart rate increase. Still you were following through with the initial goal and climbing over the side of the tub before settling down into the hot water, letting out a sigh of relief and sinking into it until only the tip of your shoulders were above the surface.

Heeseung was still watching you and you were avoiding looking at his side completely, although that didn’t help much considering you could feel his stare on you.

“I’m sorry for making shit weird.”

Well apparently your mouth was planning on getting things out of the way before your brain was.

You looked up just in time to see him cock a brow in your direction, an expression on his face you couldn’t read and you almost groaned in annoyance from how calm he was being about the entire thing. You kept waiting for him to lash out at you and yell about your weirdness, maybe even call your parents and demand Jiwoo came instead of you.

“I don’t think it’s weird.” Instead he was saying this and shifting so his arms were resting on the back of the tub, lifting his torso out of the water more and giving you a better view of the wet streaks going down his neck and past his adams apple. “Unless you didn’t mean it.”

“I meant it.” Your voice was coming out rushed and your eyes were widening a bit, mentally cursing yourself for being so eager to reassure him.

He hummed softly like he had earlier and your stomach flipped again with nerves.

It wasn’t missing you that this was completely out of character for you and totally ironic but you were only human and as much as you disliked him as a person, you couldn’t deny how good he looked with damp hair and his tan skin lit up by the LED’s of the hot tub. He was sexy and always had been despite how much you wished that wasn’t true, and now you were alone.

So you tried to ignore your long history with him as you shifted through the water so you were closer to his side, only a quarter of the way to him now instead of being directly across from you.

He watched you silently for a few beats before he was scoffing and shaking his head like he was judging you, causing your eyebrows to furrow tightly as you stopped moving closer to him.

“What?” You felt embarrassed suddenly at your assumption and prepared yourself for him to make fun of you again, scold you for ever thinking he’d want you closer to him just because he hadn’t made you feel weird about your admission.

“Nothing. I just should have known you liked me.” He was laughing to himself slightly like it was the funniest thing in the world, not at all discouraged by the glare you were sending him. “You totally followed me around all the time, plus you always had that look in your eyes.”

“I do not have a look.” You hissed at him with a sharp voice and this seemed to amuse him even further. “And I never said I liked you don’t be stupid, I just think you’re hot.”

His eyebrows raised up high and his eyes widened in amusement, catching your slip of the tongue as you aggressively spat the words at him. “Oh see you said attractive, didn’t know you found me hot too.”

He was clearly having fun with the whole embarrassing situation and you gave up quickly, leaning against the back of the tub behind you and frowning with your arms crossed under the water in front of you. You stared ahead of you at the bubbles and tried to tune out his low chuckles.

“Don’t get pissy about it.” His voice was filtering over the running jets again and you glanced at him from the side of your eye, surprised to see something that slightly resembled guilt on his face. “If it makes you feel any better… I think you’re hot too.”

This made the corner of your lips turn up into a small smile,something very rarely ever sent in his direction from you. You turned your body to face him again and leaned forward with interest.

“So you lied earlier.” Your voice was more excited than you wished it was but you didn’t fully care, sitting up on your knees a bit. His gaze was dropping down to your chest before meeting your eyes again, losing all traces of humor now that more of your skin was visible.

“Yeah. I lied.” He confirmed in a lower tone and your smile fell slightly, suddenly nervous again. You were used to how he was acting a few seconds ago, making fun of you and feeling angry and embarrassed around him but this was a side of him you had no history with outside of watching him flirt with girls at parties Jiwoo forced him to bring you both along to.

That didn’t stop your body from naturally moving closer to him, drifting along the bench until you were right beside him and you could feel his thigh pressed up against your knee.

Your mouth was parted softly to try to keep breathing around the hot steam and his eyes were seemingly transfixed on it, watching your lips as you wet them instinctively and remaining on them even when your tongue was slipping back into your mouth. You could feel his breath on your face and it struck you that you’d never been this close to him before.

His face was leveled with yours for once since you were still perched up on your knees and he was sitting normally, minimizing the usually very apparent height difference.

He hadn’t touched you or even moved at all but you could feel his skin next to yours and you were hyper aware of his every movement, the subtle rise and fall of his built chest and the way his throat moved with every deep inhale he took. He seemed to be showing some restraint and that made you shift impatiently, teetering towards him until your shoulder was brushing against his.

His eyes shut tightly for a second when he felt your bare skin touching his, mumbling something under his breath before he was looking at you again.

This time his gaze was going all around your face instead of just focusing on your lips, even dropping back down to your bare shoulders and the way your wet hair was sticking to the skin of your neck. He scanned down past your chest to where the rest of your span of skin disappeared under the water.

“Hee.” Your voice was breathy as you finally spoke and instead of cutting the tense moment, it only worsened it and you felt your thighs pressing together again like they had at the dinner table. This time he could clearly see the movement past the bubbles and he stiffened a bit. “Can you touch me Hee?”

You watched him tense even more at the sound of your whiny voice using his nickname, one you didn’t say nearly as much as your friends and family.

He didn’t reject you even though you were starting to think he might considering how restricted he look, instead he was lifting his hand out from under the water and cupping it around your jaw softly. You could feel his thumb rubbing along your cheek, the water from his arm rolling down your neck and disappearing back into the pool of it.

It was almost embarrassing how much it affected you to be touched by him so intimately and the urge to kiss him was too overwhelming, a dizziness settling in from both the heat and the longing sitting harshly in your stomach.

You were so close to each other that you could feel his lips brushing against yours, not quite kissing considering he was rocking softly backwards every few breaths and holding your face tightly so you couldn’t surge forward and get it over with.

Heeseung definitely wasn’t letting go of his habit of teasing you but this felt particularly cruel and prolonged.

“That what you want? Want me to touch you?” His tone was meaner than you expected it to be but you didn’t exactly mind, at all apparently considering the shiver it sent down your back. He was clearly making fun of you and your desperation but if he touched you, you knew you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to care.

So you took a deep shaky breath and nodded your head as much as you could while he still held your face, moving your hand so it was touching his bare knee.

Your action took him off guard enough that he lessened his grip for a split second but it was long enough for you to lean forward and press your lips against his for just a second, barely feeling them on yours before he was pushing you back again and your hand was impatiently squeezing his knee.

Another embarrassing whine came from deep in your throat and his eyes flashed with something for a second before he let out another soft hum.

“Can’t do that baby.” He was so close that his lips pressed against yours as he spoke and you completely froze up once his words made sense to your lust dazed brain, just barely processing his rejection before he was letting go of your face and leaning away from you.

You did nothing but watch him in horrified shock as he stood out of the water and left the hot tub, weirdly calm even when your gaze was locking on his bare torso.

He was leaving casually like he hadn’t just did the worst thing you could possibly imagine and you felt hot wet tears of anger spreading rising quickly, completely humiliated and swiftly reminded on why you hated Lee Heeseung so much.

——

As the days continued passing with awkward avoidance on both of your ends, you were struck with the fact that maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you always thought you did.

You’d actually admired Heeseung at points considering he was the oldest out of the three of you and continuously setting a good example despite all the pressure. Some nights you’d leave a heated argument with him and head back inside your own home, laying on your bed with a racing heart and a scowl fixed in your features.

Then you’d hear the strumming of his guitar coming from his house, window wide open and directly across from yours.

The first few times you’d put in your headphones or let out an annoyed shriek as you slammed yours shut, trying your best to tune him out and erase his existence from your mind ; out of sight out of mind.

Eventually you got tired of pretending you weren’t impressed by how smoothly the chords carried over to you, how swiftly he must be moving his hands to produce something so soft and gentle. You’d let it carry you to sleep and for a moment you felt like you were experiencing something together.

You were more naive then, tricked into thinking he ever cared about you enough to even know you were listening, childish and stupid to possibly hope he might’ve been playing for you.

Some sort of apology.

He never was and he made that very clear to you and eventually your embarrassment and shame turned to hide behind anger. It was easier to fight with him, to scream and yell, than to admit that he was hurting your feelings and lowering your ego everytime he treated you so harshly.

The entire situation was extremely frustrating and annoying, almost (but not quite) as annoying as the continuous banging happening directly under your head for the past hours.

With a loud groan, you were getting out of bed and deciding to end your moping abruptly, heading downstairs to see what the workers Heeseung had hired were doing that made that much noise. You slowed your steps as you descended down the stairs, realizing there was a lot more men in your second home than you’d originally expected and they were all moving around at a fast and busy pace.

You’d just barely managed to dodge one of them, carrying a large amount of… something, as you reached the bottom step but in your attempt to move out of the way you were running into an abandoned tool box and spiraling in the other direction.

Your eyes had squeezed shut and your body tensed bracing for an impact that never came, instead feeling yourself smack into someone’s strong and sturdy frame.

“You alright?” You quickly shot open your eyelids to see who it was you’d fallen into, turning red in the face at the concerned look the man holding you was sending down in your direction, still holding you softly and giving your arms a slight squeeze like he was trying to get you to focus.

He watched as you nodded your head softly with wide eyes, helping you steady yourself back on your feet but still holding onto your upper arms like he was worried you’d fall again.

You took the opportunity to scan over his body and your face flushed a bit more at the sheer size of the man and his extremely toned arms, looking away quickly to focus on his feet between yours instead. Heeseung was definitely a large guy too and nearly towered over you but you imagined he’d look tiny in comparison to the one in front of you.

“You sure you’re okay? You look a little red.” He was speaking again in a soft voice that directly opposed his look and you snapped out of your random thoughts about Heeseung.

“I’m okay I promise.” You were nodding quickly and giving him a soft smile, hoping you were convincing enough to make him believe you definitely didn’t need any type of medical attention just because you’d tripped over a box. “Just startled me a little. Thanks for catching me….”

You trailed off while watching him and it took him a few seconds to understand what you were looking for, a bright smile on his face once he realized and filled in the gaps. “Namjoon.”

“Well thank you Namjoon.” His name was rolling off your tongue smoothly and his smile suddenly looked a lot more like a smirk making you a lot more aware of the fact he was still holding onto your arms and standing close to you.

He didn’t get a chance to reply considering the loud sound of someone aggressively clearing their throat was coming from next to the two of you, both your heads turning to see who it was and it was almost comical the way you froze up in sync with each other.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work now Kim?” Heeseung’s tone was stiff but you could feel the underlying threat in his words and the man across from you definitely could considering he was immediately letting go of you and taking a few rushed steps backwards, mumbling a goodbye to you before he was disappearing into the kitchen to find a task to complete.

Your shoulders slumped at the interruption but your heart was beating fast looking at Heeseung next to you, recognizing the expression on his face even though it was subtle.

He was absolutely furious, the type of anger that typically caused you to end arguments early or completely stay out of his way. When he got like this you knew it wasn’t the time to poke fun at him or start up any banter, his entire aura becoming a lot darker and less forgiving.

You’d fought with him like this a few times, realizing a little too late that he was in one of his moods and it was those times that he had said the worst things. Things that made the family and friends around you gasp even though they were used to your rivalry, things that caused tears to spring to your eyes as you stormed off to a different room.

“Let’s go.” He was saying it calmly but you felt a chill run over you as he stared at you with fury and disgust, reluctantly following behind him as he left the main living space and entered a small hallway just next to it.

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to explain before he was abruptly turning around and facing you, taking a few harsh steps in your direction until you were backing up and slamming into the wall behind you. Your eyes widened in surprise and slight fear, not understanding why he was suddenly cornering you.

Heeseung moved forward until he was pressing against your body and now your emotions were abruptly changing as you realized what was happening, a wave of heat rushing through you at the feeling of his front leaning onto you.

You were slightly embarrassed he most likely could feel how fast your heart was beating but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care once he was reaching up to grip your face, a lot less gentle than he had earlier in the week when you thought he was going to kiss you.

“So I don’t give you the attention you were begging for and now you’re flirting with the first guy you find?” His voice was low and harsh, completely demeaning you and still watching you with hatred in his eyes.

You hated how much this drove you crazy, the urge for him to berate you and make you apologize for what you had accidentally done arising quicker than you’d even knew had existed and you were a bit dizzy from how much you wanted this.

“Please.” It was rolling off your tongue before you’d realized you were saying it and you barely recognized your own voice, breathy and begging for something you didn’t even understand. His eyes got even darker, if it was even possible, and your stomach lit up with a desperate heat.

“Pisses me off so bad when you do that.” He was practically hissing it at you, voice a low whisper and his hand around your jaw tightened, leaning in so he was speaking to your ear. “Stop being so fucking dumb and use your words.”

You tried to get ahold of yourself enough to find the right sentence to tell him what you want but your mind was completely blank, instead deciding to just arch your back off the wall so you were pressing tighter against him.

Heeseung faltered a bit and his eyes dropped down towards where your stomachs met, watching as you tried your best to roll your hips up to meet his but failed to actually get any sort of relief for yourself.

“Just fucking touch me.” You were finally gasping the words out through clenched teeth and he didn’t waste any time thankfully, surging forward and surprising you by kissing you deeply.

His tongue was pushing into your mouth before you even processed the fact he was actually kissing you and you were letting out a satisfied groan against his lips, letting him lick into your mouth softly and play with his tongue against yours. His hand was wrapping around your lower back and tugging you forward so you were pressing against him the way you wanted to.

A wave of desire ripped through you feeling that he was hard against you and you snuck your hand in between the tight space of your bodies and palmed him through his shorts, smiling at the way he sucked in a sharp breath and stopped kissing you for a second.

Your smile was dropping when he was meeting your eyes and looking ten times more deadly than he did in a daily basis, still glaring at you like he always did but with tenfold the usual fire and tension. That didn’t stop him from pushing his hips against your seeking hand for a few seconds, eventually stopping and letting out a groan as he snatched your wrist off of him and pinned it against the wall behind you instead.

He was rutting into you so hard that you were almost worried the rough materiel of the wall behind you was going cut your back, completely forgetting about it half a second later when he was pressing himself perfectly against your sensitive lower half.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” His voice was dangerously low in your ear and you could feel him taking heavy breaths against your neck, panting to try and keep himself quiet.

You were nodding quickly at his command despite the fact he couldn’t see you, curling your hand tightly in his hair and spreading your legs wider so he could continue to slot himself between them and give you just a taste of relief. He immediately took the silent invitation and shifted his hips against yours more, almost bordering painful if it wasn’t so addicting to feel him this way.

Heeseung was clearly struggling to control himself and you couldn’t recall ever feeling this needy for anybody before, something about how forbidden the entire situation was mixed with the life of tension and anger was driving you absolutely insane and you didn’t seem to be alone in it.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He was picking his face up out of your neck to look down at you and check your reaction, his eyes hazy and dark with his lips parted and swollen like he’d been chewing on them. “Where anyone can hear you begging for me?”

“Who said I’m going to beg?” You were trying to snap back at him but your voice came out weak, nearly a desperate whine that got louder when he was shifting against you again.

“Sure seems like it, the way you’re spreading your legs for me already.” His big hand was sliding down past your waist and cupping underneath your bare knee, hiking your leg up harder and rolling his hips against you so deliciously you nearly collapsed as a stuttered moan ripped through you.

You immediately took your hand out of his hair and covered your mouth with it, eyes rolling back a bit at the feeling of him shifting his hips against you and practically dry humping you right there against the wall.

Knowing that the house workers were only a few feet away and walking around completely clueless about what they might walk into was only making you more desperate for him and you didn’t care how out of character it was for you. At this point you would be willingly to let him take you in front of anybody who wanted to watch, leave you shaking and crying for him in public.

He didn’t need to hear you say it to know this, a cocky look on his face underneath the fucked out expression he already had.

“Always running this pretty mouth.” He was speaking again in that same low tone but he seemed completely out of it, almost like he was talking to himself and not you. His free hand was gripping your face, squishing your cheeks together so your lips were puffed out and your eyes were wide. “Should’ve known you wanted me to stuff it.”

An embarrassing wave of want washed over you again at his words, nearly drooling at the thought of him shoving his cock in your mouth to get you to stop back talking. It would’ve felt more humiliating if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were completely frozen on your mouth like he was thinking the exact same thing.

You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him more and your tongue was sticking out softly before you’d even realized you were doing it, causing him to loosen his rough grip on your face a bit to allow for it to push past your lips. You were staring up at him with big wet eyes and your tongue on display, silent waiting and begging for something you hoped he’d understand.

Thankfully he did and he was only hesitating for half a second before he was picking his head up more and spitting down into your mouth.

Heeseung didn’t even give you a chance to swallow before he was following the spit with his tongue, licking along yours and cleaning up his own mess before you were pulling him back into a kiss and sucking him deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was completely filthy, the nastiest kiss you’d ever shared with somebody and you were terrified you’d become addicted to the feeling of his spit on your chin.

“Please Hee.” You were gasping out into his mouth, reaching up to tug on his hair again and get his attention locked on you and your request. “Need you to fuck me.”

For the first time since you’d started, he actually looked hesitant. He glanced down the hallway towards where the dozen of workers were and your heart dropped to your stomach thinking he was going to stop what you were doing, even if it was just to take you upstairs to a bedroom. You couldn’t handle the idea of separating for even a second and you were spreading your legs impossibly wider and touching his face with your shaky hand.

He glanced back at you in question and his eyes darkened again seeing the pure disgusting need on your face.

“You’re stupid if you think I’d fuck you like this.” He was shaking his head in anger and taking a step away from you, one that immediately had your body tensing and your heart aching in upset.

You were instinctively reaching out to try and grab onto him, just about ready to get down on your knees and beg him not to leave you at the peak of your high like that. But the empty look in his eyes made you rethink that decision and you just stood there in shock as he gave you one more angry glare before he was exiting the hallway and leaving you alone inside of it.

It was even more pathetic considering the way your entire body slumped against the wall before sliding down it and ending up on the floor with humiliation completely smothering you, knowing you only had a few breaths to wallow in your embarrassment before needing to get up and go back to your room.

—

You’d completely retracted back to your bed again after that and this time not even the smell of food or the sound of annoying construction could get you to go back downstairs and risk running into him.

Jiwoo had called you three times every hour before she finally gave up and instead sent a thread of text messages that you promptly ignored. You were overly paranoid that she’d find out what had happened, like even the sound of your voice would give away the fact you’d made out with her brother since she last heard from you.

If you hadn’t hated him fully before than you definitely did now because there was no way you’d still want Lee Heeseung after he embarrassed you like this.

You didn’t think he would tell anybody considering he’d get just as much heat for it as you would, if not worse since he was older and supposed to be taking care of you and his sister at all times in your parents minds. But the interaction staying a secret was almost worse in your mind, a private thing between you and him.

Nothing could have convinced you to leave the comfort of your familiar bed until the wind of the sea lightly blew back the curtains and gave you a small glimpse of the sunset raging outside.

You let out a big breathy sigh, realizing now how much time you’d been wasting moping around about a stupid boy when this was your last summer ever getting to experience sunsets this bright and air this fresh. Heeseung definitely wasn’t sat in his room caring about you and how he hurt you so why should you be?

It was almost completely dark by the time you made it down to the beach but you didn’t regret coming, the lake looking long and endless now that you couldn’t see the other side.

You remember it seeming a lot scarier when you were a kid, before you’d ever seen the real sea and back when you and Jiwoo used to dare each other to swim out as far as you could before seaweed grabbed at your ankles and spooked you back to shore.

Your heart ached with how much you missed her and you were pulling your phone out of your pocket and putting it to your ear without another breath, playing in the sand with your free hand while you anxiously waited for her to pick up and talk to you. You didn’t have to wait long considering she was answering after the second ring and you let out a breath of relief.

“Finally, I was starting to think you’d really killed eachother.” Her voice was sweet as ever and a wave of fondness and nostalgia hit you even harder, laughing softly but not fully answering her yet.

For some reason the sound of her light joking mixed with the waves from her side of the phone was bringing tears to your eyes and you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand you were feeling something heavy. You both stayed silent and you hoped she figured you were just upset about leaving the lake house behind and didn’t create her usual conspiracy theories.

“You okay over there? I can come early if you need me to.” Your friend was doing her best to reassure you without knowing why you were upset and you wiped your now running tears with your sleeve.

“I’m alright, just feeling a lot of things right now I think. Are you having fun?” You weren’t exactly lying in your answer which was good considering you didn’t want to lie to her anymore than you already had to.

“I’d be having more if you were with me but you already know that. Can’t believe my brother gets to spend more time with you than I do.”

Your heart sunk a little at the mention of the exact reason you were crying and you were sure how to respond to her without giving too much away. She could read you even over the phone so you knew she might’ve felt the energy shift now that she’d brought her brother up, sniffling a bit and letting the sand run through your fingers.

She talked a bit more about her vacation and how much fun being at the sea was after so long and you listened to her excitedly chatter, letting out soft hums every once in awhile to assure her you were still listening.

You actually were but a large part of you was still thinking about Heeseung and what he might be doing back up the hill inside the lake house. You wondered if he felt guilty for you hiding in your room or if he had even realized you weren’t inside anymore.

Jiwoo was eventually bidding you a goodnight and making you promise to answer her the next time she called on the first ring, sounding a bit heavier when she was saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You hated that you didn’t feel the typical happy buzz that your bestfriend typically brought and more tears made their way down your cheeks.

You sat like that on the shore for another hour, watching the waves roll and crash onto the sand just a few feet away from where you were sitting.

It was putting you in a sort of trance, so many thoughts running through your head that you weren’t even able to pinpoint where one started and another ended.

You were so deep in your own head that you didn’t at all hear the calls of your name from up the hill, starting off mildly confused and concerned but escalating to full on desperate and panicky shout when they were met with no response. You certainly didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the large wooden steps from the back deck or when he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing you on the beach.

“There you are.” Your back tensed at the sound of his voice and the soft tone in which he mumbled the words. “I thought for a second you’d gone back home.”

He was coming to sit beside you on the sand, just close enough where you could feel his body beside yours and the wind carried over his familiar scent but still too far to touch.

Which was for the better in your opinion.

You ignored him even though you could sense his stare on the side of your face and embarrassment was hitting you in rough rolling waves, hoping that the moonlight wasn’t quite bright enough to give away the large tear streaks down your cheeks or how red your nose had gotten from crying.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was still soft which was doing absolutely terrible things to your heart and you shook your head slightly, pulling your lip between your teeth to stop yourself from letting out another sob. “I’m sorry about everything in general.”

He was turning to face you more and you braved up enough to spare him even the slightest glance, seeing pure guilt and turmoil on his face.

Meeting your gaze was enough for him to realize how upset you truly were and he was sighing before scooting closer to you in the sand and putting one of his warm hands on your bare arm, now cold from sitting out in the wind for so long. You instinctively leaned into his touch and his other hand gently gripped the side of your face so you couldn’t look away again.

It was such a jarring difference from how he’d touched you earlier, from how he touched you your entire life actually.

“I didn’t mean to be so mean so you or leave you there like that I just… I just panicked I think.” He was rambling now and stuttering through his words, something you knew he often did whenever he got in trouble when you were younger. “You think about something happening for so long and then it actually does and it’s so much more different than you thought, n-not that it wasn’t good I just mean that…”

He trailed off and sighed again and you squeezed your eyes shut to try and ignore the desperate urge to just kiss him and shut him up.

You knew you needed to hear whatever he had to say and he definitely needed to say it, he long overdue owed you a few hundred apologies and it was a lot more than the fact he’d left you high and dry earlier.

It was all the times he glare at you and stolen a smile off your face and every argument you ever had that left you stricken with angry tears and storming out of a room, the embarrassment of being told off at his graduation party and even worse the fact he didn’t kiss you until he was driven by jealously.

“I’m just so sorry.” He seemed like he was ending his monologue there and you gave him a heavy look, slightly nuzzling into his hand before placing your own over it. “Say something please?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” Your words were more honest than you expected them to be but his eyes softened when your voice came out weak and croaky, the full expanse of your hurt getting more obvious by the second. “I’m just confused.”

You were turning slightly so you were facing him more and you were certain the two of you looked a bit ridiculous, sitting criss crossed directly opposite of each other with your knees touching and his hand holding your face still, only moving to push some of your hair out of your face.

“I am too.” He was whispering now and you felt the full effect of it low in your stomach, a soft smile on his face now that you were opening up to him a bit more.

Heeseung had never left your life and it was a lot easier to list out all the terrible moments you’d had with him over the softer times, glimpses of days where he’d had a smile just like this wether it was in your direction or not.

He’d been there every time you called for a ride even if he complained about it most of the way home and you’d never stopped listening in extra hard whenever you heard his sweet dorky laugh coming from a few rooms over. You must have been blind to what your mothers had clearly started seeing a long time ago but little things this summer had made you reconsider how deep your dislike for each other goes.

You’d long hesitated to fight with him, starting to rethink your quick jabs and your constant attitude whenever he walked into a room and clearly he’d picked up on more than you ever realized, obvious by him so easily knowing your comfort snacks or the way to calm you down.

“You know,” Your eyes snapped back up to his when he started to speak in a low voice as you waited to hear what he had to say. He looked a bit nervous, like he was about to confess something and you gave him your full attention. “When we used to fight as teenagers, I’d always feel so terrible for making you storm home. Even started playing guitar with my window open so you could hear it.”

Your entire world view shattered just off of that simple admission alone and a heavy sob interrupted whatever else he was going to say, his eyes widening in surprise for just a moment before you were leaning over onto him fully and throwing yourself into a tight hug.

He eagerly accepted although not understanding the true weight he’d just released from your shoulders and you felt him let out a big breath of relief now that you were in his arms, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried softly.

You didn’t need to hear him say that he felt the same way that you did, as confusing and scary as it was after projecting your anger onto each other for so long. Your heart tore up thinking about that young girl in her bedroom just holding onto the silly childish hope that the boy next door was actually playing for her, now knowing it wasn’t foolish at all and he’d been right there hoping she was listening.

It hurt you to think about how much time you’d wasted carrying on a childish feud and how whatever this was had started off being such a disaster of jealously and toxic back and forth.

But you were immediately soothed by the never wavering feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around you and the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, spending one last summer on the beach that raised you and creating your first one with the boy you loved.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung au #enhypen au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung

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sunderwight · 9 months

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Bingqiu roleswap where disciple Shen Yuan knows he's gay, and figures out that he has a big huge crush on his handsome Shizun, but also concludes nearly at once that he's not going to be drawing Luo Binghe's eye any time soon. Firstly, Luo Binghe is notoriously straight. Secondly, even if he weren't, he wouldn't go for his scrawny untalented nerd of a disciple! Shen Yuan's not bad looking, not before or after transmigrating, but he's neither a beautiful nor a hot manly man, and he assumes if Luo Binghe were into dudes he'd be into the same kinds of twunks that Shen Yuan likes. Guys on his own level, etc etc.

Plus Luo Binghe hated the original disciple Shen, and only started to warm up to the transmigrated version after Shen Yuan got injured in front of him trying to stop the other disciples on the peak from killing a small animal. For some reason, Luo Binghe brought Shen Yuan medicine. He got even nicer after Shen Yuan distracted the skinner demon by trying to convince it to take his skin instead of Luo Binghe's, and then again when Shen Yuan successfully fought off a demon invader -- though initially when Luo Binghe volunteered him for that job, he thought it was an assassination attempt. His heart was in his throat when Luo Binghe nearly took a poisoned blow for him, but luckily he reacted more quickly and got hit by the thorns instead. His heavenly demon blood took care of the poison, and he managed to convince everyone that he narrowly avoided getting cut at all.

Shen Yuan's careful not to read anything into it when Luo Binghe finds out about his, erm, uncomfortable dormitory situation and moves him into the side room, or when he completely messes up trying to make dinner and Luo Binghe takes over cooking and bans him from the kitchen (he swears he's not actually that bad at cooking, he just never had to use a kitchen without a microwave or an electric hot plate before...)

After all, it's not like Luo Binghe is cooking for him, he's just making food he likes and letting Shen Yuan eat it too! Because he's nice! He's way nicer than the book gave him credit for being, see, clearly Shen Yuan was correct in signing up for his defense squad, "top ten worst villains of all time" his ass that poll was nonsense...

Unfortunately, though, the plot's still gotta plot. Shen Yuan is heartbroken when the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around and his shizun stabs him and throws him down into the Endless Abyss. Heartbroken, but not surprised. After all, it was always going to go this way, wasn't it?

But at least, now that it's done, he has some agency in how he reacts to it. He's changed the story enough that he doesn't need to go get revenge. Maybe Luo Binghe's still the villain of his story, maybe that was inevitable, but some heroes let the villains get away. Don't they? It's all part of that noble, breaking the cycle of abuse type stuff. He can be that kind of hero. He can let it go. As long as he avoids Luo Binghe altogether, it should be fine, right? It's not like he's obligated to turn people into human sticks. He asked the system, he's definitely not!

Technically he's not even required to conquer the demon realms. He just has to get out of the Abyss and the be sufficiently cool and/or tragic. Conquest is just one means of doing that, and not even Shen Yuan's preferred, since he doesn't exactly want to rule over anybody. Going around the demon realms beating up some jackasses and rescuing some damsels in distress and becoming sworn brothers with Shang Qinghua, one of the current demon kings, is suitable. He definitely doesn't want to marry any of the damsels he encounters (thank fuck the system lets him off the hook for that!)

But eventually he has to go back to the human world. Not only is it mandated by the system, but he also misses living there. The demonic realms are in many ways better than expected, plus a lot of the monsters are really cool, but he misses the weather and plants and the people he's more accustomed to being around.

He misses Qing Jing Peak, if he's being honest with himself. Shizun's cooking and the bamboo forest and the crisp mountain breezes, the comforts of home.

Not that he can actually go back there in specific. Of course not. If he did that, Luo Binghe would try to kill him, or else the system would try and make him kill Luo Binghe. Bad ideas all around. No, he can't go back to Qing Jing Peak, but he can go find someplace nicer than the demon realms at least. He just has to keep a low profile, which shouldn't be hard since the original goods did that even while actively scheming to kill his former master!

Except.

Everywhere he goes, suddenly Luo Binghe is also there?!

Good thing Shen Yuan thought to take a page out of the book of Luo Binghe's actual love interest, Liu Mingyan, and start wearing a veil. He just didn't want any randos who might have seen him at the Immortal Alliance Conference or on any of the other missions his shizun sent him on to recognize him. But one minute he's investigating a strange case in Jinlan City, and the next the streets are full of Huan Hua cultivators (Shen Yuan has no intention of joining them, that's the path the original took to getting revenge! He doesn't want revenge!), and then Luo Binghe and Sect Leader MBJ and Peak Lord SHL show up, and SY is ducking down alleys and hiding behind columns, just trying to stay out of the way until the lockdown on Jinlan lifts and he can leave.

Except...

Luo Binghe really isn't acting like himself?

He looks like he hasn't been eating or sleeping well. There are dark circles around his eyes, and something almost melancholy in his countenance. And he's dressed entirely in white, none of the usual Qing Jing greens and blues anywhere to be seen. Of even greater concern, he's being reckless. Shen Yuan can't stop himself from rushing out when he sees his former shizun get infected by a sower demon.

Luckily, it's been some years since the last time they saw one another. Shen Yuan's gained a few inches in height, so he's almost at eye-level with his old master now, and though he's still more slender than bulky he's picked up some totally new styles from training the demon realms. He doesn't move the same way he used to. With that, plus the veil, it's enough for him to quickly swallow back his words as he grabs Luo Binghe and quickly administers a cure for the sower infection.

Well, he has one of course. He wouldn't need it himself, heavenly demon blood and all, but his time running around playing hero in the demon realms meant he rescued a lot of humans from such fates. Which is hard to do if you don't have a cure to their afflictions, but between him and Shang Qinghua, sourcing such things was almost easy.

Luo Binghe looks at him like he's just seen a ghost. The other Cang Qiong sect members are alarmed by SY suddenly accosting one of their own and of course find him suspicious, so he runs away right after, and then he has to lose Sha Hualing's pursuit in the city.

But what else could he do? He manages to evade the system's attempts to railroad him into meeting Gongyi Xiao, avoids the rest of the Cang Qiong crowd, and drops some of the cure through the current Qian Cao peak lord's window to get the incident sorted out. Then he flees and puts a good amount of distance between himself, Jinlan City, and every righteous sect he can think of.

The only problem is that after this point, Luo Binghe is everywhere.

Any time Shen Yuan stays in one place for longer than a few days, Qing Jing disciples start turning up. Any time he takes a job hunting some cool-sounding monster or pursuing some interesting tome of knowledge, the better to satisfy the system, it seems like Luo Binghe has selected and gone after the exact same target! Which is especially annoying because back when SY was a disciple, Luo Binghe was always assigning him to do this stuff. Since when does his chronic homebody master have an interesting in six-tailed scorpion lemurs or ancient spiritual kilns?

What's weirder, though, are the rumors.

It seems like any time SY stops at some well-populated place and asks for the latest gossip, he has to hear about how the Qing Jing peak lord lost his beloved disciple during the Immortal Alliance Conference, and mourned like a widow, and now wanders the earth in search of solace for his grief. Seeking something, possibly even the ghost of his dear disciple.

What nonsense! Luo Binghe threw SY into the Abyss himself. He had to do it, it was the plot! And also his obligation as a righteous cultivator, confronted with a "dangerous" half-demon. Does it sting? Yes it stings! That's why SY wouldn't just forget it! Despite logically knowing it's pointless, is there some part of him that wishes his master would have chosen differently? That thinks he should have known that no matter what kind of power Shen Yuan had, he would never use it to hurt people recklessly, or harm innocents, or especially not harm... well. It's pointless, his blood condemned him, and if there is some part of Luo Binghe which regrets what happened, it's doubtless just that he unwittingly harbored a monster for so long.

Which is fine and Shen Yuan would leave it at that, if the guy would just let him!

But no. Instead he has to deal with Luo Binghe turning up and asking him questions, trying to get him to talk (SY has no hope of disguising his voice, if he says anything he's not even sure it won't crack as he comes perilously close to tears instead, so he just stays silent), and then asking for his name, asking if he's mute, asking about his background, his sect, his kin. Is his a righteous cultivator? Where did he get that sword? (NOT Xin Mo, thanks, he used that thing once and then tossed it back into the Abyss before the portal finished closing behind him -- he knows a poisoned chalice when he sees one, although knowing the plot twist about that sword from the novel sure helped.) Where did he learn those forms? Is he... does he have a safe place to go home to? Someone to tend his injuries? Make sure he eats his meals?

SY, of course, stays silent. But it's difficult. Not only because Luo Binghe asks, but because he still looks... bad. Sunken, sorrowful, desperate almost. Shen Yuan can't figure out if he knows or not. Maybe he's unsure, maybe he's looking for SY to give him a sign, so that he can figure him out and then flip a switch and try to finish the job he started.

That can't happen. If they fight, SY will win, and he doesn't want to hurt Luo Binghe.

But even if Luo Binghe's not a heavenly demon, he is a highly accomplished cultivator, and it seems he's got his own breaking points to reach. Eventually he corners SY and gets a hand on his veil, and for a moment SY is sure he's going to rip it off, see his face, and confront him all "I knew it was you, you twisted evil demon, you won't escape justice a second time" and he feels a deep, icy terror close around his lungs--

Luo Binghe lets go of the veil before he can lift it.

But then something even worse happens. Because Shen Yuan's handsome, peerless, noble master breaks down. He falls to his knees, begging forgiveness, sobbing, clutching at his head like he's being driven to madness.

It all spills out of him, then. How he pushed his own dearest disciple into the Abyss, which obviously SY already knew, but also how he was apparently qi-deviating the whole time, and his senses could not differentiate between one kind of demonic "threat" and another. How he realized what he'd done only after he regained his senses hours later, and rushed back to the place where the tear to the Abyss had opened, but could not find a way in after the one he lost. How he had betrayed and thrown away the only person who cared about him, and couldn't even explain that he hadn't intended to. How he would accept anything, any punishment, hatred, penance, or revenge, if only he could see his disciple's face once more.

SY is stunned.

Apparently, Luo Binghe hadn't rejected him for his demon blood?

Not only that, but beforehand, he seemed to have valued Shen Yuan a lot more than Shen Yuan would have credited.

Is it a trick? Is he lying? SY would have guessed so, would have assumed that Luo Binghe's plan was to lull him into complacency only to turn on him once he finally had confirmation. But somehow, he just... doesn't think this is an insincere display. His old master is too cool for this stuff! He has too much dignity to just throw it away on a scheme! There are other ways to get what he wants.

Even if it is a lie, Shen Yuan is tired of running. He's the hero. He won't actually lose, and if it comes to it, it's still in his hands to decide if he wants to spare Luo Binghe or not (he does, of course he does, even if this whole spiel is an act). Plus he's got a backup plant body in one of Shang Qinghua's greenhouses if all goes to shit.

He takes the veil off himself.

Luo Binghe, teary-eyed, stares at him as if his face is the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Shen Yuan nearly puts the veil back on. His cheeks heat up. Dear Shizun, aren't you an immortal master? A noble peak lord? Isn't it your calling to vanquish demons? Get up off the dirty ground right this minute! Where did your dignity go? Shen Yuan did not spend all those nights doing the laundry to watch his teacher dirty his knees for no good reason!

There's a quaver in Luo Binghe's voice as he points out that Shen Yuan was terrible at doing laundry. Luo Binghe had to redo it the day after, all the time.

Shen Yuan chides at him that he should have made one of the other disciples do it then.

Luo Binghe just laughs, and stays on the ground, until finally Shen Yuan has to physically pull him up. Muttering about how he's being ridiculous, what's he crying for, why's he been moping so much, doesn't he know that handsome face should never look so bereft? Then he realizes what he's saying and shuts his mouth, but Luo Binghe just looks happy for the first time in years. Since the Abyss. How is it possible that SY, who actually had to slog through that awful place, can still smile more than Luo Binghe, who didn't?

They're standing so close. Holding on to one another. Almost as if... as if the scene's tone is... well...

Oh what the hell!

Shen Yuan closes the last little bit of distance between them, and kisses Luo Binghe.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #bingqiu #long post #of course the plot probably interferes further then #turns out that while luo binghe was desperately trying to get sy back he accidentally woke up sy's father #who for this au let's say is sj instead of tlj #sj does NOT approve of this match and also hates all the righteous cultivators (and demons... and everyone mostly...)#but he is also busy trying to resurrect yqy or something #kidnaps sy like well I missed the chance to raise you and actually that's probably for the best but now I need your blood #for Reasons #luo binghe is not a fan of this turn of events #reverse holy mausoleum arc when SY is mostly unconscious except to sometimes throw out advice and LBH is dodging traps and villains #the pining-over-the-dead-shizun arc is probably AFTER the holy mausoleum and lbh self-destructs to rescue sy from sj's plans #sy refuses to accept this outcome he decided luo binghe was NOT to die he didn't need a redemption arc he was FINE sy DECIDED #but luckily they're in the holy mausoleum so sy grabs a resurrection artifact of some kind #has to spend a few years restoring and maintaining lbh's corpse before he can get the to actually work but it's fine #he's fine everything's fine he's GOING to get lbh back lbh is NOT ALLOWED TO DIE #luckily unhinged sy results in way less collateral damage than unhinged lbh #so mostly he just fights off mbj's attempts to honorably recover his shidi's body and offer him a proper burial #while camping out in the holy mausoleum and arguing with sj's detached body parts #y'know normal healthy behavior

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annabelle--cane · 9 months

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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.

the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.

the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.

the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.

the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.

to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.

as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.

jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.

I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.

I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.

#tma #marina marvels at life

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roosterbox · 10 months

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Had this random thinky thought the other day.

Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.

“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”

Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.

But then.

The events of S4 happen.

Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.

Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.

He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.

Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.

But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.

“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.

Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.

And Wayne suddenly understands everything.

He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.

“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.

Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.

“Uhm,” Steve starts.

Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.

Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.

“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“

Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.

“Wayne Munson.”

Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.

“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.

“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”

There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.

#stranger things #steddie #wayne munson #wayne munson my beloved #Wayne is a saint #but he’s also a bit protective #Steve doesn’t hold it against him #he knows better than anyone the person he used to be #also pre s4 Steddie my beloved

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

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𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 ; 𝘫𝘩86 ୨୧

➪ summary: after jack misses their nightly facetime call, y/n is worried that something happened. that's when she goes on twitter and sees a bunch of people tweeting about jack and some girl at the bar together.

➪ warnings: assumed cheating, long distance, fighting

➪ word count: 3.0k

➪ file type: new fic

➪ sunny's notes: this fic is brought to you by my sweet teddy bear anon. i love her so much and i am so grateful every time she sends me one of her ideas because i love all of them so so much. i hope you guys enjoy this fic, i honestly love it so much more than i thought i would

jh86 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

Y/n wasn’t oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend was hot, that he had hundreds of girls who wanted him. But she also wasn’t oblivious that her boyfriend loved her and would do anything to make her happy. Most of the time, her insecurities would pick her apart bit by bit but they would always go away as soon as she saw Jack or he made a comment that left her with the feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

With the two of them doing long distance as she finished up her last semester of college, she was always nervous that Jack was having more fun without her. It wasn’t a constant thought, just on the days when she had nothing to do but overthink everything. Yet, Jack always helped ease those worries with his daily phone calls before practice and/or after a game.

Every night since they started dating, a little over a year ago, Jack would make it his job to call her either before he left for practice or after he finished playing a game. Most of the time she was too tired to talk, so Jack would talk her ear off as she fell asleep wearing one of his hoodies and he watched with a huge grin plastered on his face.

However, after shutting the game off and making a late-night snack, she was worried when her phone never rang or lit up. She initially shrugged it off and thought that media had just run a little longer than normal or he got caught up in traffic or he was talking to someone. Yet, the time from when the game ended and the present got increasingly longer, thirty minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into two.

Normally, she wouldn’t try and overthink things like this, she knew Jack was busy and she didn’t want to be unreasonable and clingy. But for some reason, something just seemed off. Like she knew something was about to happen. Despite her gut feeling, she settled onto her bed in her apartment and ate her popcorn as her favorite movie played on her TV.

It wasn’t until she was about to fall asleep that she looked at her phone again and saw an insane amount of notifications and none of them had been from Jack. So, hesitantly, she opened Twitter to see why she was being tagged in a lot of posts. She swore she could physically feel her heart split in two when she saw it. Jack was out at a bar talking to one of his teammates, she wasn’t sure who and she didn’t care to figure out who it was.

However, that wasn’t what made her feel like her whole world was crashing down, she could handle that Jack went out to a bar and didn’t tell her, went out to celebrate a win that he contributed to. It was the fact that there was a girl next to him, an arm wrapped around his torso and her head on his shoulder. She was too focused on her being on him that she didn’t register the look of disgust on Jack’s face, the subtle body language that screamed he wanted to be anywhere but there.

She placed her phone down, screen flush with her sheets, as she let tears form in her eyes. She had trusted him, she had trusted him after multiple of her friends warned her about his reputation, she had trusted him after her mom warned her about him, she had trusted him despite what everyone said. And she fell for it, she fell for him and his tricks.

Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she picked her phone back up and scrolled through the replies to multiple tweets that contained the same picture. One after another they all said how they wished the two of them would get back together, how they wished Jack would finally dump her and realize his ex was better for him, how they thought that she was just some rebound to help Jack get over her. And that was her final straw, maybe Jack really was just using her.

As she continued her rabbit hole of comments, her phone suddenly rang and Jack’s contact showed up. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry harder, scream, bury her head into her pillow, or throw her phone across the room as she stared at the picture. It was a picture from winter break, she had flown out to Jersey to see him. The two of them were skating in Rockefeller Center in front of the tree, she was bundled up in her winter coat, a beanie, and a scarf around her neck. Jack had his hands on her hips as their foreheads leaned against one another, bright smiles on their faces as the snow fell around them. She had been laughing at something that he said when whoever snapped the picture. It was one of her favorite memories and now it was just something that reminded her of what she fell for.

Before the call had ended she clicked the answer button and held it up to her ear, trying to keep in her emotions as best as she could. It didn’t last long though. Jack’s voice reached her ears and his all too familiar giddy and happy tone was present, “Hi baby!”

She took a deep breath, “Do not, ‘Hi baby’ me, Jack.”

On the other side, where Jack sat in his car, his grin fell into a frown and he furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean, don’t ‘Hi baby’ you? What’s wrong?”

“We’re done, Jack.”

Now it was Jack’s turn to feel his heart physically break, he couldn’t believe what she was saying. There was no way that they were over, not after he fought to do long distance with her, not after he sat through nights wishing that she was with him, not after he cried when he got hurt because she wasn’t by his side, not after the fights that left them both in tears. It couldn’t be the end, could it?

“Wait wait wait, no we can’t be done, sweetheart. Just talk to me, let me fix whatever is going on.”

“You can’t fix this, Jack. You broke my heart, that isn’t just something you can fix.”

“I what? How-”

“I waited all night for you to call and I was ready to brush it off as just a long night and then I go on Twitter to see your ex all cozied up to you like nothing had happened? Like we never happened?”

Jack couldn’t tell if he was more upset at the obvious tears that laced her voice or if he was more upset that she had seen those photos. In all honesty, he didn’t know anyone was taking a picture, though being a famous athlete he should’ve known. It was nothing, he had been talking to Jesper and Nico about something completely random, he couldn’t remember at this point.

That was when she came up to him, batting her eyelashes and using that familiar innocent tone that used to have Jack caving at the mere sound of it. He glanced over at her and muttered a quick ‘hey’ before turning back to his teammates and continuing their conversation. However, it was clear that she was not going to back down so easily. She tried to talk to him, saying how much she missed him and that she hoped they could talk out their problems, but Jack just ignored her. He was happy with y/n, more happy than he had ever been in his life.

That was when he felt her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. He tensed up immediately, his annoyed face morphing into one of disgust and discomfort. He pushed her away as best as he could but her grip was tight. Nico had finally had enough and walked over to the girl, pulling her off of his teammate and waving her away.

“Babe, it wasn’t like that, I swear. I was trying to get her away, I was ignoring her, ask Nico or Jesper-”

“Don’t get your teammates to lie for you, Jack. I don’t want to hear it. You broke my heart, I thought you loved me. I thought that we would’ve been different, I thought I was different. I thought you were different.”

“Y/n you have to listen to me, I didn’t want her there. I was doing everything I could to get her away from me.” The way his voice cracked made her pause, was he crying? “Baby, you have to believe me.”

“You ignored me all night long, she was hanging off of you, what am I supposed to think?”

“We both know that’s not fair, I would never cheat on you, you know that, y/n/n.”

“I can’t Jack, I’m sorry.” She hung up the phone, leaving both of them in a mess of tears.

She sat back up on her bed, pushing herself against the headboard. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head there. She cried until she heard a knock on the door and she looked up to see one of her roommates standing there, “Y/n?”

“He cheated on me.” She choked out, not even believing her own words.

“Oh, honey.” Her friend was quick to wrap her in a hug letting her cry until she fell asleep in her arms.

Meanwhile, Jack sat in his car, his head against the headrest. He couldn’t cry, not now. He had to drive home, he had to shower, he had to make dinner for Luke. He drove home in silence, not even having the energy to turn the radio on. His eyes were glassy the whole way there, only blinking when he wasn’t sure if there was a car in front of him or not.

When he arrived home, he lugged himself up the steps to his and Luke’s apartment, stopping a few times and thinking back to what happened. He placed his key into the door and turned it, opening it so he could walk in. He threw his hat on the counter and closed the door with his foot. He held his keys in his right hand and placed it on the counter, squeezing so hard that his keys dug into the skin of his hand.

“Jack?”

He looked up at his brother with tear-covered eyes, “Hey.”

“I thought you were home already- What’s wrong?”

Jack blinked at him before responding, “She broke up with me.”

“Y/n?” He only nodded as tears started to stream down his cheeks.

Luke stepped closer and went to ask what happened but was stopped when Jack’s head hit his chest and felt his arms wrap around him. He wrapped his arms around his older brother, allowing Jack to pull him to the ground as he let out heart wrenching sobs into his chest. Luke rested his back against the wall and just held Jack until, as y/n had earlier, fell asleep in his arms.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It was a few days later that she had finally opened up her phone for the first time since that night. She had seen multiple texts and social media notifications from her friends, her family, Luke, Quinn, and Jack. None of them had caught her attention, the one that did was a Twitter notification, one from the Devils and one from Amanda, both of them explaining that Jack was taking a personal leave from the team, his return unknown.

It took everything in her not to reach out to him, not to send him a text, not to call him. It wasn’t her right anymore, she broke up with him. After seeing that, she didn’t have any energy to continue looking through her notifications, scared and embarrassed about what they might say. So she just stared at her ceiling, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands and toying with one of the loose threads. That was when she realized it wasn’t her hoodie, it was Jack’s.

She cursed to herself and immediately took it off. She needed to get rid of him, she couldn’t stand the thought of having anything of the man who cheated on her in her room. For the next ten minutes, she dug through her closet, looked under her bed, and through her nightstand for anything that screamed Jack. His hoodies she had stolen, some shirts that he had given to her or left there, a bracelet and necklace that he had gotten her for their sixth month and one-year anniversary. Everything that had even the closest tie or relation to him went in the box.

And then she laid in her bed again, staring at the ceiling with an empty mind. She heard the door open, the one to her and her roommates' apartment. She thought nothing of it, it was probably around time for one of them to be coming back from one of their classes. But then she heard a knock on her door and turned to see the doorknob turn.

Black jeans and white Air Force Ones were all she saw before she knew who it was. She sat up and made her eyes stare directly at him, “Jack.”

“Ba- y/n.” Jack cleared his throat at the slip-up.

She leaned down to grab the box that she had just made and handed it to him, “I put everything in a box for you.”

It was hard to miss the hurt that flashed across his face, one she hated seeing. It made her sad seeing it but at the same time, she wasn’t so sure she was allowed to be upset about it. Jack gave her pleading eyes, “Please, please don’t do this.”

Y/n only shook her head, “Keep them. The hoodies, the shirts, everything.”

She shook her head again, biting her lip to keep her sob in, “I can’t Jack, it’ll hurt too much.”

Jack placed the box on the floor and took a step closer to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, “Talk to me.”

She stepped back, shying away from his touch. She knew that she would give in too quickly, she always did. He sighed and looked down, eyes trained on the rug in her room before looking back up, “I’m not leaving.”

“Jack, please.”

“No, I fought for us to do long distance, I fought for us when I was injured, I fought for us when both of us thought we couldn’t do this anymore, and I’m not going to stop fighting for us, y/n. You mean too much to me for me to just give up. I love you with everything in me and I am not going to let you walk away because of a picture that was taken and was meant to be perceived how you perceived it. What you saw-”

She shook her head once more, “Please-”

“Listen to me,” he cupped her cheeks, directing her gaze to meet his, “What you saw was nothing. I was at the bar, celebrating the win and I was talking to Nico and Jesper about cars when she came up. I barely acknowledged her but she kept going, she wrapped her arms around me and-” Y/n teared up as she listened to him explain, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was having to hear about what happened or if it was because she was being stupid about this whole thing.

“-I tried to get her to let go of me, I did. I tried to get out of her grasp but she wouldn’t let go. Nico pulled her off of me and that was the end of it. Baby, I promise you, that was all it was. I love you too much to do that to you.”

Both of them now had tears in their eyes, her hands came up and wrapped around his wrists as she looked up at him, “Jack.”

“Please, you have to believe me. I am such a mess without you, I can’t-”

“Jack.”

He stopped rambling and looked at her, “What?”

“I believe you.”

Jack could feel all the tension and worry float away, “You do?”

She nodded, “I do. And I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain earlier, I just- being away from you, not seeing you every day, it was too hard.”

He shook his head, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should’ve tried harder to get rid of her, and told her to go away.”

She shook her head in return, “You did everything you could, Jacky.”

The nickname immediately made him smile and pull her into a hug. The two both let tears fall from their eyes but both of them didn’t say anything. Being back in his arms felt good, having her back in his arms felt good.

After a while, he pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, “I love you, so so much. I meant everything I said earlier.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her softly, his hands coming to tangle in her hair.

When he pulled away, he knelt down to the box and took out one of his hoodies, the one that he knew was her favorite. She watched him carefully and let out a small giggle when she felt him pull it over her head. She allowed him to put it on her, a smile on her lips as he did so. He smiled himself once he saw hers, “My pretty girl.”

She blushed and groaned, “Jack.”

“What?”

He then dug through the box to find the bracelet and necklace, placing them on her wrist and around her neck. He smiled at her again and kissed her forehead, “Right where everything belongs. Right where I belong.”

“God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. More than you could ever know.”

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman

#: ̗̀➛ sunny’s writing 📓 !#: ̗̀➛ ❝ [ fics ] ❞#: ̗̀➛ ❝ [ jack hughes ] ❞#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes #jh86 #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #njd #nj devils #new jersey devils

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