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chatonne-rousse · 3 years

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The Importance of the Black Cat

Adrien has a lot on his mind - concerns, questions, doubts. And right now, he has only one being to confide in. There is not enough cheese in the world to make Plagg want to handle this situation, but his holder needs him, and he knows two things with certainty: his very important place in the world, and that no one hurts his kitten. Not if he has anything to say about it.

Read it on Ao3 here.

The Camembert he holds in his paws is aged beautifully, gooey and perfectly pungent. He knows it was expensive, purchased with his holder’s allowance, and therefore tries to at least do the kid the honor of enjoying it. But as he mulls over the day’s events, the first few bites sit like a brick in his tiny stomach.

Tonight, Plagg eats his cheese for sustenance only. It’s hard to find the usual joy when his holder hasn’t spoken since they arrived home.

The light in the closet switches off as Adrien shuffles out into the bedroom, dressed for bed in black pajama pants and an old white t-shirt. The departure from his usual red and black spotted look doesn’t escape Plagg’s notice, but he chooses not to comment.

Plagg discovered long ago that his devotion to his holders is inversely proportional to his ability to counsel them. He knows he’s not good at advice beyond cheese and chaos. He wasn’t made for emotions and heartfelt chats.

A sure and confident holder didn’t usually open his heart or seek his kwami’s counsel, and Plagg liked that. They did their jobs, they shared their lives, but they didn’t share their hearts. They didn’t need to, because his holder needed his power more than his presence.

But once in a while, he’d materialize in front of a human whose eyes shone with innocent kindness, and he knew immediately that they would need him. If he’s honest, Plagg will admit that these are the best wielders of destruction. It’s all about intention, after all, and a pure heart rarely destroys with disregard. These holders, however, always seemed to come with a price - they saw their kwami as less of a means to an end and more of a friend.

He loved these holders. He would level cities and wipe out species for them. But oh, did he ever dread having to talk to them. Really, really talk.

Plagg knows his kitten will break the silence soon. It’s only a matter of time. He isn’t sure if it will be to talk about being stuck in the elevator with his very good friend, a monologue that will no doubt be punctuated by sighs and soft eyes that will be quickly denied if his kwami points them out.

One undeniable fact from the day, however, is the racing pulse and rapid breathing of a boy terrified of being locked up and feeling increasingly helpless in the situation. Plagg knows very well that it happened, because he was tucked inside Adrien’s shirt listening to his pounding heart. He hopes his holder doesn’t want to talk about that, because it’s way above Plagg’s pay grade.

He also hopes his holder won’t ponder why only he was dragged through the portal to safety, or why Rena Rouge was the one to do it.

Plagg gets down almost two full wedges of cheese before Adrien sits down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Plagg?” His voice is quiet but doesn’t betray any emotion yet. That’s actually more worrying.

Steeling himself, Plagg swallows the last big bite of cheese and zips from the desk to perch on top of the globe, facing his holder. “What’s up?”

He heaves another sigh before looking up into Plagg’s eyes, emotions still unreadable.

“How important is the black cat?”

Oh. A wave of relief makes Plagg’s whiskers perk up. The question is unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. He’s lousy with advice but an expert at talking about himself.

He puffs up his tiny chest and grins a fanged grin. “Only the most important, kid! Everything has to end sometime - except me, of course, but,” he shrugs, “we can’t all be perfect.” He hopes that will garner a smile, but realizes a moment too late that he’d started his speech talking about death to a boy who lost his mother at thirteen. Oh no, he thinks, panicking. He’s bad at this, too.

He barrels on. “I mean, creation is nothing without destruction. The very concepts go together, always. Can you imagine a world where flowers never wilt and people never die?” Adrien’s eyes widen and his brows furrow. Shit, Plagg thinks. I did it again.

“Plagg, that sounds...really nice, actually.”

He shakes his head. He can get this back on track. He’ll fall back on pragmatism like always. “It does, but that’s not how the world works. Your planet can’t sustain an expanding and eternal population. Everything grows and lives and dies and starts over again. Everything has a beginning and an end.” Plagg’s eyes shine with pride. “Only I, and my very lucky holders, get to harness that inevitability into a real power, and use it for good. Tikki and her bugs can create, but we destroy,” he pitches his voice lower, his tone serious, “so they can create again.”

Adrien’s eyes are still wide, but Plagg sees wonder and a bit of pride there. He lets his tiny shoulders relax.

“I never thought of it that way. You really are amazing, buddy.” He reaches out to scratch Plagg behind the ears with a soft smile that his kwami would see doesn’t reach his eyes if his own weren’t closed with pride and delight.

The hand retreats, and Plagg opens his eyes just to watch Adrien’s face fall.

“But I meant...how important is the black cat to the ladybug?”

"How...what?" Plagg splutters, taken aback. "I just told you, kid. Every beginning has an end. Creation and destruction are perfectly equal. You don't want to know what happens when they're not."

Adrien's eyes snap to his, clearly on the edge of a dawning horror. Oh no. Not again.

Plagg waves his paws. "What I mean is, you need each other. Tikki is never activated without me, and I'm never called up without her. We're two halves of a whole. You've never seen the inside of the miracle box," he scowls, "which is bullshit, by the way, but if you did, you'd see that the center is a circle, split perfectly in two. Tikki and I go together, and so do you and Ladybug. You can do this without each other, but you're not meant to."

Adrien's shoulders droop. "Yeah, I know she can win a fight without me. She's had to do it before." He sighs. "A lot."

"Sure," Plagg agrees, and can't resist adding, "but she wouldn't need to if you didn't throw yourself in the line of fire every chance you get."

"I have to protect her, Plagg! You know that! Ladybug is more important than me."

"Kid!" Plagg bursts out in frustration, "I don't know how else to tell you this! You. Are. Equal."

“Then…” Adrien’s breath catches and he blinks several times. “Then why doesn’t she need me anymore?”

For just a moment, in the time it takes for the words to register and translate and pierce his heart, Plagg’s ire flares white-hot and livid. No one hurts my kitten and gets away with it. But he looks into his holder’s eyes, sad and achingly lonely, and his anger slips away as quickly as it came. He’ll deal with his own feelings on the matter later.

Besides, it’s not Marinette’s fault. She’s doing the best she can. He’d still relish giving her an earful, but piling on the heartbreaking guilt about his holder’s situation wouldn’t really help and might just snap what Tikki has insinuated is a currently-tenuous grasp on stability. Plagg knows she’s making decisions based on the mentorship of a flawed man, a failed guardian who ran from his mistakes for the better part of two centuries.

Fu never understood Plagg and never tried to. None of the guardians did. Beyond knowing the basics of his power and the importance of the ring of the black cat in relation to the earrings of the ladybug, Fu never saw Plagg as anything more than a liability. Which is honestly fair, but Plagg doesn’t have to like it.

He definitely doesn’t have to like it when the rules of secrecy leave his kitten in the dark and feeling useless. Especially after what he now suspects from the clues he got today.

He looks into his holder's tear-filled eyes and sees a soft innocence rare among the long line of black cats who've worn the ring. This might just be his most difficult assignment yet, but it's also one of his favorites, and he'll protect his kitten no matter what it takes. Even if it means talking about feelings.

Once his stomach is settled, he's going to eat so much cheese to make up for this.

Plagg takes a deep breath. "Who spotted Optigami in the elevator today?"

Adrien blinks but says nothing.

"Who made sure Ladybug didn't tell her secrets to Truth?" He waits another moment, watching Adrien's blush rise and letting his words sink in. "And who protected her identity when she was hit by Kwamibuster?"

"Okay, but—"

Plagg steamrolls his holder shamelessly. "You were the key to defeating Gorizilla, Stormy Weather, Lady Wifi. I have a long memory, kid. Do you want me to keep going? Because I haven't even gotten to the times you kept your bug afloat with all those pep talks and disgusting feelings. A nice piece of Brie would've perked her up, but I have to admit that your methods worked, too."

Adrien sniffs and chuckles. "Okay, buddy. I get it." His eyes still betray an ocean of hurt, but Adrien's soft smile seems genuine.

Plagg has never quite understood human emotion, though he's seen it all in his many centuries among humanity. He's also seen the myriad ways humans cover up one emotion with another (and another, and another, and sometimes destructive behaviors and very dark paths). He doesn't much enjoy dealing with human feelings, but he when it comes to masks, he prefers the very stylish ones he manifests on his holders' faces, changing with the times and his whims and his holders' thoughts. It's been a long time since he had a holder whose civilian life necessitated so many different masks. No wonder he eats so much Camembert to recharge - it's exhausting just watching it.

"What I'm saying, kitten...er, kid, is that your bug needs you. Paris needs you. And I know that because creation always needs destruction." He snorts a laugh. "That's a fact that's bigger than both of us."

"Yeah, you're right. I know you're right." Adrien sighs and stands to pull back the covers and turn out the light. He climbs in bed and heaves another sigh as his head hits the pillow. "I just wish she'd let me help her. I...I know she's going through something."

Plagg settles on the pillow next to Adrien's, in the Camembert-infused spot where he sleeps. "Being a guardian kind of sucks. It used to be a whole big thing - years of training and ceremonies and shaving your head in a weird pattern..."

Adrien breathes a laugh in the darkness.

"Did you just imagine your beloved bug with her pigtails cut off and a bald spot shaved into her head?"

"Plagg! How dare you?" comes the reply, but his laughter betrays him. Yeah, he's totally picturing it.

Plagg smiles. "What I mean is, you know her. As much as you can, at least. She's told you over and over how important you are to her. I hear all that mushy crap, you know. I don't think she means to hurt you." A pause. "If she does, she'll regret it," he mutters.

"Please don't threaten my future wife, Plagg."

"Still?"

"Still what?"

Plagg blinks. Adrien blinks, then finally catches up.

"Oh. Well." He takes a deep breath. "I'm...a little upset about some things. But I'm sure we can work it out. People make mistakes. Besides, just because someone hurts you doesn't mean you stop loving them, Plagg."

He wouldn't trade Adrien and his tender heart for the world, but sometimes Plagg wishes he was already a bit more jaded when he slipped the ring on his finger that first day. He doesn't want to witness the moment his holder's gentle spirit is finally crushed by what he knows better than most is a very cruel world.

For a long moment, Plagg considers his answer and finally chooses sarcasm. He shrugs. "You can always just cataclysm their prized possessions. That works, too."

That startles a laugh from his holder, tired and tinged with emotion, but a laugh nonetheless. Plagg considers it a win.

They settle into silence. Adrien's eyes close sleepily. Plagg considers getting another wedge of cheese now that his stomach has calmed down a little, but the thought that this is far from over makes his indigestion flare again. Love is messy and inconvenient, the Cancoillotte cheese of emotions. But, he supposes, looking at his holder in the dark, it's worth the difficulty.

Adrien's eyes open suddenly to meet Plagg's glowing green.

"Thanks for talking to me, buddy. I'm sorry I—"

Plagg zips over to his holder before he can finish the sentence, tucking his little body into the crook of Adrien's neck and starting up a loud purr.

"You're welcome. You owe me so much cheese."

Adrien laughs again, and Plagg purrs louder when he reaches up to scratch behind his tiny ears.

"Reblochon again?"

Plagg stifles a laugh at the fact that he has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's feelings before realizing how sad it is that he...well, has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's emotions. Someday, when his holder is on his own and out from under the tyrannical rule of his asshole father, Plagg has every intention of cataclysming Gabriel's entire atelier, including his tablet and any backup drives. He dreams about it sometimes. Just watching the world burn. It'll be beautiful.

He sighs wistfully before answering. "I was thinking Époisses."

Adrien groans. "Plagg, no. It's so gross."

"Plagg, yes. Feelings are gross. Cheese is life."

Another sigh. "Fine. I'll order it in the morning."

Silence falls over them again, this time comfortable and warm. When Adrien's breathing evens out, Plagg heads over to the cupboard for a snack. By the time he's eaten two more wedges of Camembert and thought about the whole situation, he's decided to pay Pigtails and his other half a visit. This can't continue. They're all headed for catastrophe, and no one wants to see what he'll do if this breaks his kitten.

He takes a wedge of cheese for the road and heads for the window, but something makes him stop before he phases through. He turns back to look at his sleeping holder. The moonlight shines through the windows, casting shadows like prison bars across the room, across the bed, across his kitten. Plagg thinks suddenly of Adrien waking up alone, his kwami nowhere to be found, and realizes he can't just leave.

He sighs. He's sighed so many times tonight.

Plagg tosses the cheese in the air and catches it expertly, swallowing it in one gulp, then makes his way back to the bed.

Tomorrow, he'll find a way to phase into Pigtails' bag during homeroom for a much-needed discussion with Tikki. He doesn't want to - he really doesn't want to - but Plagg intends to do his part to fix this. Holders like his come once in a very, very long lifetime. Adrien is worth it.

He settles again on his cheese-scented pillow and curls up, wrapping his tail snugly around his body. Soon his purr matches the rhythm of Adrien's quiet breathing, and peace, however temporary, falls gently over the two of them once more.

#adrien needs a hug #and some therapy #plagg to the rescue #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #plagg #ml spoilers #season 4 spoilers #optigami #optygami #ml fanfiction #ml fic #my writing #sadrien

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hellowkatey · 3 years

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angstpril day 1: "you have to let me go"

the five times Obi-Wan hears these words, and the one time he says them

1-Satine // 2-Qui-Gon // 3-Satine // 4-Ahsoka // 5-Anakin // +1-Luke

Her touch is light. A few fingers lazily intertwined with his as they sit beside one another. Knees knocking together with every restless leg shake… or perhaps, a purposeful movement. Her touch is light because Qui-Gon is in the next room, and his footsteps are virtually silent to the ear when he wants them to be-- and around the two of them it's like he's constantly padding on the tips of his toes just to raise Obi-Wan's blood pressure.

Her touch is also light because it's the last moments they have together. Satine and him seem to have different philosophies when it comes to saying goodbye. She likes to distance herself. Satine would sooner put galaxies between them and whisper her final words through a commlink than have a proper farewell. She says it's because she hates when people see her cry, so it's easier this way. While Obi-Wan doesn't like seeing her cry, he can't deny that it's when tears fall from her eyes that her eyes are bluer than the kyber crystal of his lightsaber. Breathtaking. But Obi-Wan also knows that if she starts to cry there is a fair chance he will follow close behind, which is why he lets these light touches be the thing he is etching his memory with.

If he had the choice, Satine would be wrapped in his arms, her body as close to him as they can possibly get. For as long as they can manage. He would memorize the way her hair smells, the places where their bodies fit perfectly together, and the map of her veins he likes to trace with his fingers. Given the chance, he would kiss her, kiss her the way he wished their first kiss had gone, and the way he hopes she remembers when they are worlds apart.

Her light touch twitches from its spot. Fingers separate, and he's left with nothing. Were they in the presence of others, he might accept this as their final touch, but the room is empty and Obi-Wan isn't satisfied with this goodbye. He reaches out, grabbing her hand as she stands, knowing full well she has every intention of walking out of here and not looking back.

"Please," he says. "What if I leave the--"

"You have to let me go," she says. Satine won't let him finish that sentence. Just like he would never let her finish her own version. He holds her hand for a second longer and then decides to indulge one last time.

A kiss on the back of her hand. The brush of his lips as light as her touch on his fingers, and then he lets her go.

His skin is cold. How can it be so icy already? Only seconds after he fell-- or so it feels-- and Qui-Gon's skin is clammy and cold. Obi-Wan is panicking. He has been trained not to panic in every situation imaginable but somehow Qui-Gon failed to instruct him what to do if he finds himself holding his dying master in his arms.

"It's… It's too late," Qui-Gon says in a tone that is much too weak for Obi-Wan to perceive as being real. Tears spring up in his eyes and drop onto Qui-Gon's chest in unceremonious splatters. It feels so un-Jedi-like to cry, but he has lost the will to care about that.

"No," the padawan protests. He shakes his head like a youngling,

"Obi-Wan," his master says. While he sees his lips moving, he is suddenly aware of Qui-Gon's voice within his head, speaking directly into their Force bond. A message only for him to hear.

"You have to let me go."

He looks at him with horror. "The medics… they will be here momentarily just hold--"

"You have to let me go, padawan. My time is over."

Even Obi-Wan feels it now. The Force wrapping around his master like a warm blanket. His skin is still cold with Obi-Wan runs his fingers along Qui-Gon's cheek, but his spirit is ablaze.

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan promises many things in those final moments, but the hardest comes when Qui-Gon leans back into his leg, his weight releasing and his last breath coming out like a soft gasp of relief.

While every other goodbye Satine has ever given has been curt and distant, leaving Obi-Wan wishing there were more, nothing prepared him for the goodbye he thought he wanted.

She lays in his lap. His arms wrapped around her, her body pressed into his chest as close as she can possibly get. Satine looks exactly as his memory stored. Golden hair he has to brush out of her smooth face, cheeks red and cheekbones high. Her hand is slipped into his and she's squeezing it hard-- were her veins not slowly releasing their content of blood he might be able to trace them with his finger like he used to when they'd lazily lay together watching the clouds overhead.

Satine's blue eyes are as vibrant as the kyber crystal that called to him as she tells him that she loves him. That she always has.

And when her hand cradles his face, a touch as light as all the rest, he is thrust back into reality. Somehow the faint touches and distant goodbyes always felt temporary. He would always see her again whether in a few months or years or decades. But somehow she is right here and already gone-- the way Satine always liked to say goodbye, especially when Obi-Wan was nowhere near ready to say it himself.

You have to let me go, she mouths to him as her eyes flutter closed. Because somehow she knows that making those her final words aloud to him would crush him in every way. When her hand falls limp at her side, he catches it.

A kiss on the back of her hand. The brush of his lips as light as her touch used to be, and though he feels like his entire world is crumbling around him, he lets her go.

He catches Ahsoka outside the Temple. A few tears fall from her eyes, but even as she allows him to walk next to her, she says nothing. Her shields are up. Tight. And when he looks at her he can see the dark circles under her eyes and the slouch of her shoulders. She's exhausted. Physically and mentally.

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan stops to say when they turn the corner and he is confident they are alone. She stops but doesn't look him in the eye. "I am so sorry."

"Did you…"

"No," he says. He knows what she's going to ask, and it breaks his heart she would ever think he would. "Not for a second. I tried--"

"But it wasn't enough, I guess."

She finally looks at him. While anger, frustration, or even sadness would be expected of her, Obi-Wan is unsettled to see none of that. Rather, he sees resignation. Content. The determination that he knows all too well. His chest swells with guilt. He should have done more.

"The council will let you return," Obi-Wan says, the hope in his voice betraying him. "Even if you've already said no if you change your mind they will-- They must. They--"

"Abandoned me. The council abandoned me. Didn't believe in me. Are they even sorry?"

"The council… isn't always right."

"Master Kenobi, you're talking as though you are separate from the council."

A deep cut. He nods through the bitterness that he deserves.

"Ahsoka, whether you decide to return or not I just hope you know I tried. And I am sorry I didn't push even harder."

She nods. It isn't forgiveness but forgiveness is not what he is looking for. Just for her to listen.

"I understand. And I appreciate you coming after me. But you have to let me go."

So Obi-Wan stops. Immediately, and she almost looks shocked when he does, but she keeps on walking through the stutter-step of surprise. Her eyes linger on him for a moment long, and then her mouth that has been so set on remaining neutral flickers into a sad frown. Obi-Wan doesn't have to see her sadness for long, for his grand-padawan is as strong in will as she is in battle and she looks forward to her path unknown. Ahsoka doesn’t look back, and he doesn't expect her to.

He didn't listen to her once, and he won't make that mistake again.

Ten years since they battled on Mustafar, and still, standing in front of the man that was once his padawan, brother, and friend, has not gotten easier. He is more machine than man now. A glistening sculpture with a mangled interior he knows too well. The strangest part of it all is feeling his signature in the Force. Though he looks like Vader and sounds like an asthmatic bantha, and nothing about him is remotely reminiscent of Anakin Skywalker, the Force still registers his presence as a person Obi-Wan knows well.

"I always wonder if you are still in there, my friend," Obi-Wan says. His saber is already drawn, ready for a redo of the battle he thinks about on a daily basis. With any hope, he can right the wrongs he made a decade ago.

"You have to let Anakin Skywalker go," the Sith says, the annoyance in his voice palpable even through the respirator. "He died on Mustafar, where you killed him."

"It's funny, I remember that going differently. I remember Vader being the one who silenced my brother and took advantage of his power."

"Then this shall be a fight for who writes history."

Vader is the first to lunge, but Obi-Wan is ready. He never forgot the sound their lightsabers made clashing together as enemies ten years ago, and today it is all the same.

The Force is singing at a time when Obi-Wan would least expect the Force to have any sort of positive opinion. How this situation can yield any good is far beyond the old man, but he has learned over the years there is no point in arguing with the will of the Force.

Vader is relentless. Since their last battle he has only grown stronger, and once he learns of Luke-- who is conveniently also present in this space station of destruction-- his lust for power will swell with the idea of having his son at his side. Luke is strong, kind, and well-balanced for as untrained as he is. Obi-Wan senses greatness from the boy, but all that will fail if he allows Vader to win.

So he seeks him out. Battles him yet again in a test of wits and swordsmanship. Nineteen years on Tatooine has made Obi-Wan rusty in some senses, but there is one thing he can count on.

Whether Vader admits it or not, Anakin is in there. He can see it in the way he duels, the way the wheels turn in his head and he approaches battles. Anakin was always creative and quick, using his environment as well as his lightsaber to attack from all sides. Vader is the same fighter behind that sword. While he may not be as limber in his cyborg suit, there is a part of him that is still Anakin. If that is the case, then the Force is singing because the time has finally come.

Are you sure? He asks the Force. Though it doesn't reply in Galactic Basic, as would be most convenient, it does wrap around him like a warm blanket. Obi-Wan can feel the Force that flows within him go ablaze, and the feeling is a familiar one.

Obi-Wan looks through the open blast doors as Luke runs in, his mouth open in awe and eyes filled with worry. He looks at Vader, too enthralled in the fight to pay any attention to the importance of the person just a handful of meters away. And the old Jedi Master smiles.

Vader staggers. Obi-Wan can practically see Anakin behind the mask doing a double-take. Wondering what in the world he could be thinking to be losing their duel and grinning at him.

Obi-Wan raises his lightsaber. I'll see you soon, Master, he says into the Force, and as Vader's swings through the air, he hears Luke cry out in protest, and then nothing at all.

"No!" Luke yells, immediately regretting his outburst when five stormtroopers take notice of their position and start firing. He can see Ben's cloak in a heap on the ground in front of the murderous monster that just cut through him, and out of desperation to save Old Ben, he starts firing back at the troopers.

Han and Leia are yelling at him to get on the Millennium Falcon, but he has already downed one trooper, and he can get the rest! He can get the rest and defeat Vader and--

"Luke," a voice says. His head turns by instinct, but it isn't a voice speaking to him aloud, nor is it Han or Leia's voice. "You have to let me go."

"Ben? Ben are you--"

"Go, Luke. All will be revealed in time."

Luke stands for a moment in a daze until Han screaming at him to blast the door pulls him out of the trance. He does as he's told, and as Vader marches toward him the blast doors slam shut in his face, separating him from the monster that killed Ben.

"Run, Luke, run." Ben's voice rings in his head. He doesn't understand it, but he listens.

#angstpril2021 #dayone #you have to let me go #i like how i was like #im not gonna do angstpril #and then i was like #well i could try and work some of the prompts into other stuff to help with inspiration #and then at 10pm tonight im like #wait i have idea for day 1 #and now it's midnight and I have this #fic #i am a sucker for these challenges and it shows #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #qui-gon jinn #anakin skywalker #darth vader #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

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Feel free to ignore, but could you write Whirl reacting to finding his minibot s/o injured and scared after an attack on the ship? Like Whirl is panicking because he can find them and he assumes the worst, then finds his s/o hiding in a closet somewhere with half a leg missing and some dents and stuff. I’m a sucker for angst and if you can’t do this one no hard feelings, thank you <3

I've never pictured Whirl with a minibot before but it's... so perfect?! He and Cyclonus could be Minibot loving buddies, bonding over their tiny and beautiful partners, and that image alone is everything. But for now we shall enjoy the ANGST

The battle had been a hard one, for sure, and it was a miracle he hadn't heard of a single bot being confirmed dead. Yet, at every injury or near miss he'd endured, his thoughts had turned only to you. Not that he perceived you as weak or anything, but he knew a thing or two about the brutal physics of combat. If the hits those brutes dished out had been strong enough to send him staggering... Your tiny frame would not have fared well. Just one good punch or shot to somewhere vital, and... his processor refused to venture any further down that dark path.

Or at least it had initially, now with every passing minute turning up no sign of you, he's increasingly turning to darker and more gruesome thoughts. What if your little frame was beneath one of these bodies? What if they'd torn you into so many pieces he'd passed you several times over without realizing it? What if you were so mangled he couldn't recognize you amongst the debris as you lay dying?! The worry was rapidly evolving into tank turning nausea that threatened to spill over.

"Bitty?!" He called out into the corpse filled hallway, using half your cutesy nickname for added impact. Though his voice was growing static laden from the yelling, he had no intention of resting it, content to shout for you until his voicebox burned a hole in his throat if that's what it took. Not even his injuries could slow him down in the slightest. One damaged leg kept plodding along without a fuss, and he would happily let it crumple and fall of it meant finding you.

Admittedly the mangled but otherwise functional limb also struggled to stay steady on the floor for another reason; it was so slicked with enemy blood solid footing was impossible. His frustrations resulted in a piece of debris he'd been examining getting chucked clear down the battered hallway. Exhausted in the worst way, his owerful claws clamped his helm between them as the overwhelming grief threatened to split him apart. He doesn't want to believe you're gone, he can't, but how long can he keep hoping? It's been hours since the battle ended, and you're nowhere to be found. All he has is the last transmission between the two of you, where you'd sounded in a bad way already, and had cut off before relaying your position... There had only been time for an "I love you"...

Before he can collapse to his knees, a small sound at the end of the hallway catches his audials. It's soft; not like anything you'd expect to hear near a literal war zone, yet it instinctively stirs something in his spark. A few wobbly steps bring him closer, ironically to the same spot he'd ended up tossing the wreckage from earlier, where it had landed on a pile of bodies backed up against a door.

Then he sees it; they hadn't been pushed against the door, they'd been trying to get in, and had perished doing so. The group must have been taken by surprise at their backs, too focused trying to claw their way inside to protect themselves, but what could there possibly have been in a closet to make them so incensed?

A second sound makes him move without caring for a solid answer. Hulking corpses are shoved and tossed aside without ceremony, their limp forms proving a second to final obstacle once he realizes the door itself is locked, and he enters the universal passcode to the bloodied keypad. His claws shake so much it's almost impossible to get the keys right. Finally, he taps all the proper numbers in order, and the bloodied door hisses as it retracts out of the way.

A supernova bursts in his spark when he takes it all in; you, bleeding and damaged and trembling but alive. Scars and dents cover your frame, but the worst is the mangled stump where everything below your right knee used to be, with the smeared energon beneath to show you'd been forced to drag yourself this far. It's a relief and an agony to find his tiny mate like this, but he takes the former emotion and runs with it. Shoving those bad emotions aside like so many corpses, he drops to his knees just as you realize your hiding spot has been breached.

"Whirl!" You shout in a cracked and weak voice, exhausted from a million different things but drawing up the strength to welcome him. Much larger than you, the Copterbot has to hunch to pull you into his arms, but is even more gentle than usual to avoid hurting you. Unable to hold back your tears, you sniffle at the rush of emotion that comes with the hug. Whirl is alive, you're alive, the ship is in one piece... It's almost too good to be true.

"Shhh... Easy there, Itty Bitty..." He soothes, expertly wiping away one of your tears with the tip of a claw. You hold the digit close, not wanting to lose the instant of contact after being so afraid of never having it again. Using his long legs, the bigger bot steps clear of the tight corner, never losing his protective grip on your body. Unable to walk, you happily let him take the lead. He always insists on carrying you anyway...

"Did we win?" You ask in a hiccup, looking about the destruction and paying special attention to the countless enemy corpses. They're a lot less scary now than before, but you still find yourself holding Whirl more securely, and you're cradled in return.

He makes a sound somewhat like a chuckle, and you're reminded that one of you is far more accustomed to combat than the other. "Sure did. They don't know what hit them."

At the comfortable silence that follows, between the pain of your injuries and the blameless protection he shows for you, you're made aware of some guilt in your spark. How badly must he have worried while you were holed up? How long had he been searching? How much did you worry him by ending up in the situation you did? Surely there had to be a better way to protect yourself, and the countless possibilities make you tear up from something deeper than pain. An apology rises up before you even know what to say.

"Whirl, I-"

"Shhh..." He shushes once more, adjusting you to let your audial rest beside his voicebox. Though his voice is rough, his tone is gentle, and certain despite how he struggles to form the words. "Like I said, just take it easy. Let's have the docbot look you over before we have any deep conversations."

"Okay... Okay..." You agree with a tiny nod, finding exhaustion in every remaining limb creeping over you in a slow wave. The closet hadn't been the best place to realize you were barely keeping your optics open. Now though, in his arms, surrounded by love... It's impossible to deny a light doze just to recover some energy. Curling up close, you whisper softly before submitting to the need for rest.

"I love you."

In his own way, he smiles with just his optic, tapping his helm against yours as he gently replies with a slow stroke of a claw over your back.

"Love you too, Bitty."

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lostlight #lost light #ll #idw #tf #whirl #whirl x reader #bot reader #self insert #my writing #my asks #requests #angst

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ticklikeabomb · 4 years

Text

The Medusas - Part 3

Pairing : Mayans MC x Plus Size Reader ; Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Plus Size Reader (platonic)

Warnings : Language, Angst, Mention of Depression

Word Count : 2.9k

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the universe where they were created and interact in. This series/fiction is only for entertainment purposes.

A week passed, then a second. You were still in shock and denial regarding the fight you had with EZ. His words kept repeating themselves like an earworm. You couldn’t believe he felt that way towards you since the beginning, just someone to pass time. “She didn’t impose herself compared to others.” You couldn’t stop that destructive voice in your head, questioning if he was the only one feeling that way. What about your father? Did you also imposed yourself in some type of way, not giving him the choice in guarding you? Is it why your birth parents left you, abandoned you? These thoughts left you in a dark place and you slowly started pushing people away. You gradually cut contact with your friends, not in the mood to talk or hang around with them anymore. Your new state preoccupied your father but also the other club members who were used to see you constantly smiling.

It didn’t help going to the same high school with EZ’s girlfriend. Life was playing tricks on you, testing your patience by putting her constantly on your path. She would either totally dismiss your presence or at the contrary, provoke you by speaking loud enough about EZ to her friends, knowing you would hear her. You couldn’t count how many times you left the room or cafeteria, sick of hearing her. What switched your denial to anger occurred a few months later, at the end of school year. You were exiting the classroom, making your way outside, when you saw EZ twirling Emily in a hug and kiss her passionately in the middle of the school entry. When he dropped her to the ground, his eyes met yours and his joyful smile vanished. You felt stuck to the ground, not being able to move from the scene. His eyes then dropped to the ground before taking Emily’s hand in his and turning around, making his way to the truck. In that moment, your heart finished breaking itself to pieces.

You felt sick to your stomach. Running from the place, you arrived at the Romero Brothers junkyard devastated. Your eyes landed on a semi-broken car and a metal bar beside it. Grabbing the bar, you began smashing the car’s windows, the hood, every part you could hit on, letting all your frustrations out. Your outburst reached the Mayans’s ears who immediately left the Temple and ran to the commotion. The bikers witnessed a side of you they didn’t know you had: the fury, the anger, rage. Bishop wanted to take a step towards you when he was stopped by Marcus, shaking his head. “She needs it”, was the only thing the President said. Your breathing and voice started to shake. Your motions stopped, the metal bar falling from your grip, the rage being replaced by waves of tears, shaking your whole body. That was the moment Bishop chose to slowly walk to you and engulf you into his arms, his action making you whimper even louder. “Shh it’s gonna be ok”, he whispered in your ear while soothing you the best he could. He walked you back inside, the others following close, each one patting your shoulder in support of whatever you were mentally facing. Alvarez told his cousin to take the weekend.

After your outburst, Bishop was walking on eggs around you. He didn’t know how to approach you and help. He decided to ask his former lover for advice and visited Martha at the shop. She greeted him with a smile but quickly noticed the tension on his body. She knew him like the palm of her hand. “What’s going on?”, she asked worried. He chuckled slightly, “You were always able to read me like an open book.” “We used to date for a while back in the day”, she jokingly reminded him. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”, he asked her to which she nodded and told him to follow her back to her office. He scratched his neck before telling her the way you were behaving lately. “I need advice. I don’t know what to do, what to say anymore. I don’t want her shutting down on me if I push too much.” Martha listened closely before replying, “Just tell her you’re there whenever she needs to talk. Give her the choice to reach out to you. She might do or not but if not, don’t take it personally, she will eventually tell you when she feels like it’s the right time.” He nodded at her declaration and said, “I can do that.” “You know, first heartbreaks are tough for everyone but it will pass with time”, she slowly said and looked at her lap. Her words hit the man like a train. ‘Heartbreak’. Things were clearer now. He suspected your mood being because of the fight with EZ but he never thought that you felt more than platonic feelings towards the guy. He reached out to her and thanked her before asking how she’d been. The continued catching on while on your side, you were at the club putting your notebook inside your bag when Alvarez entered the room.

His eyes landed on you, analyzing your tense posture, the joy evaporated from your irises, the corner of your lips down. He grabbed a drink and seated beside you. “What’s going on with you mija?”, he asked, voice laced with concern. “I’m just tired it’s all”, you replied. “The famous code used by woman to end a conversation”, he chuckled before turning to his serious self. “Don’t lie to me.” He noticed your jaw clenching. Looking at him, you whispered with a small voice, “I’m a burden to everyone. Obispo should have left me with the other kids.” Alvarez’s features darkened. Trying to control himself, he took your hands in his. “Look at me cariño. I hope I will never hear you say such absurdities ever again. You are not a burden and never will be. Bishop took you in because he knew, the second he looked at you, how special you are and he isn’t the only one who instantly knew. He chose you to be his daughter. You’re family! Don’t ever forget that. You’re Y/N Losa.” He pronounced every word with conviction and you saw no lie in his eyes. Nodding to him, you apologized and stood up. “I should go”, you commented before giving him a side hug. Reaching the door, your turned around and called after him. “Thank you”, you said and saw him nod in acknowledgement.

Ringing, the alarm announced the end of class and the beginning of summer break. You were finally free of her vision, her comments and her attitude. After a conversation with Bishop where he followed Martha’s advice, he noticed that your mood improved. He also noticed you spending all of your time with Coco and Angel. It didn’t enchant him but as long as you were feeling better it was all that mattered. On the other side, he knew that you would be save with Coco and that if we crossed the line, he had a gun and knife attached on him, ready to deal with the sniper. Hanging with Coco and crew also made you more interested in bikes and mechanics. They thought you how to change and fix them, shoving the different brands, designs and how to ride one. That’s how you would spend most of your days.

“Can I ask you something?”, you turned to Coco. His gaze landed on you while exhaling the smoke from his cigarette, “Yeah what?” “Since you were a sniper, could you teach me how to shoot?” He narrowed his eye, one of his eyebrows lifting in confusion before stating a bland “No.” “Why not?” “Because I’m too young to die by the hands of your old man.” You chuckled slightly before getting serious again. “Come on man.” He shook his head, finishing his cigarette and serving himself a beer. “I already told you no.“ You sighed in defeat and stood up, leaving but not after mumbling a “Asshole” under your breath. “Hey, I heard you”, he shouted after you. “Good”, you replied and showed him the finger. “Bitch” he whispered under his breath.

You saw him a few days later at the club and decided to play stubborn, giving him the cold shoulder. His gaze kept drifting to you, trying to figure out why you would ask him such a thing. Your little bratty game was getting on his nerve and he sat down on the couch beside you. “Why?”, was the only word leaving his lips. You took a gulp of your soft drink before turning towards Coco. “Just a precaution. Look around you, everyone is at risk at any second. Don’t you think, everyone should be able to defend themselves or others when necessary. Besides it’s a dangerous world for women out there”, you simply stated the obvious. He couldn’t deny you had good arguments. “What about him?”, he pointed with his beer to the VP. “I don’t want him to know. It’s just our little secret.” The man beside you closed his eyes for a second before agreeing on teaching you. A huge smile crossed your features and you bumped against his shoulder. “Yeah yeah, you just signed my death arrest”, he mumbled before taking a gulp. You laughed at him but assured him it will be fine and no one would know about it. How wrong you were.

Your lessons with Coco were intense, requiring all your concentration. He told you the names and properties of different gun models; taught you how to correctly use each one of them to the point that after several months you were able to use each one perfectly, the student surpassing the teacher. Every time you would tease him, he would feign annoyance and curse your sassiness out but deep down he was proud of you. “Now that I can handle this, do you know how to box?”, you asked him one day. He opened his mouth, transpiring frustration. “Perra you really out here testing my nerves, aren’t you?” “You’re funny, how do I defend myself if I’m in danger and don’t have a gun in my possession?”, you asked him a hand on your hip. He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I’ll ask Creeper to give us a hand with that”, he finally confessed and saw you smirk in victory. “This was only supposed to be between us”, he pointed at you annoyed. “Gracias Coco”, you bat your eyelashes to which he side-eyed you, making you laugh. That’s how another club member joined your little secret. While you were training with Creeper, your father arrived earlier from his run and saw you in the ring. Stepping out from his Harley, he walked closer. “What the fuck is going on here?”, he asked. You simply shrugged and told him you were helping Creeper train. Your dad narrowed his eyes at you but you didn’t phase. He then turned to the other man and warned him, “If you hurt her, you’ll have to deal with me.” “Yes boss.” Your eyes met Coco who only shook his head.

---

In the meantime, on the other side of the spectrum, the Reyes tried to convince EZ to go to college. “We already had that conversation”, he replied to his dad. “I understand that you had an agreement with Emily but you can’t put your future on hold like that”, continued Felipe. “God you sound just like Y/N”, sighed EZ. “And she is right”, interfered Marisol and took his son’s hand. “Mira, if Emily really care and loves you, she will understand. You have to think about you and if it implies you break a promise for the greater good then that’s what you have to do. You can check the environment, search for a future apartment for both of you but do all of that while you attend classes.”

“I already missed the first semester anyway. There no point in going now. I’ll have to wait for the next school year”, replied EZ. Felipe stood up not having the force to continue the conversation followed closely by Marisol. “Alright. In the meantime, I think you should fix whatever happened between you and Y/N. I know you are hurt. I can see it but she was always there for you”, exclaimed EZ’s mom before leaving her son reflect on her comment. He isolated himself in his room, thinking about his mother’s words and realized his parents were right. He made his way to Emily’s and informed her of his decision to leave and start visiting for a place to live.

That’s when their first fight occurred and it only got worst when he told her his plan on apologizing and talking to you. “Why would you do that? She tried to break us up. Why are you doing this to me?”, she shouted out. “Em, I only want to make things right. I wasn’t exactly the nicest to her and she probably said those things because she felt threatened. You never got the chance to really get to know each other and I don’t know what do you want me to tell you.” “That’s bullshit. She was the one who didn’t give me a chance. I’ve tried to be nice to her but she kept provoking me with her friends”, the brunette lied. “I know Y/N and she would never do that”, replied EZ, projecting more fuel to the braze. Emily scoffed, “This is gonna be very simple EZ: either you believe me and stay with me or you go to her, apologize and we’re over”, she stated. “Em, come on”, he tried to resonate her. She walked to the door, opened it and made sure he got the hint. It’s with a heavy heart that he stepped closer to the door and closed it, choosing Emily.

He left a few months later to Stanford, establishing himself there before starting off his first year.

2009 - 2010

The club was discussing at the table when they heard a knock. Annoyed by the interruption, Alvarez nodded at Creeper to open the door. He stepped aside, revealing you behind it. Alvarez motioned you to come inside and noticed your nervousness. “I’m sorry, I know no one can interrupt you when you’re in the Temple but I have something important to request.” The President looked at his cousin who nodded and granted you to talk. You took a deep breath before exclaiming with your head high, “I want to be part of the club. One of you, a Mayan.”

After what felt like an eternity, the silent room filled itself with laughter. “Honey, you can’t be a Mayan member. It doesn’t work like that”, responded your dad. “I know, I’ll be Prospect for a year and then if you judge me worthy, I’ll become a full patched member. I know the rules.” Alvarez’s smile disappeared and he declared, “What we mean is that we don’t take in women and even if we did, it’s a no.” “But, I…” “Marcus told you NO”, Bishop interrupted you firmly. Your eyes wandered around the room and there it was again. That familiar feeling of rejection and embarrassment that went along with it. Your fists clenched and your gaze landed on the floor, refusing for them to see your angry tears. You burst out of the room, fuming and headed home.

Once in your room, you looked around and felt disgusted. “I can’t stay here anymore”, you told yourself out loud. You grabbed the essentials and packed your backpack, your decision to leave final. You wrote a letter to your father explaining him you couldn’t stay and needed to figure yourself out. When he came home, you pretended to be asleep on your bed and felt his lips leave a kiss on your forehead. Your fists clenched under the blanket, fighting your tears and selfishness of leaving the one that saved you 13 years ago. As soon as you made sure that he was asleep, you got out of the house and vanished.

The next morning, Bishop stood up and softly entered your room, checking if you were still asleep. At his surprise, your bed was made. He made his way to the kitchen calling out your name but you were nowhere in sight. He grabbed his phone and dialed, your ringtone blasting in the living room. When he entered the room, his heart stopped beating. Displayed on the table was your phone, ID and an envelope. A sense of fear overcame him and the letter only confirmed his suspicion.

Dear Father,

I’m sorry it has to be on these circumstances but I don’t have the strength to face a fourth rejection like the one that happened earlier today. I’m lost and I need to find myself, who I really am and what I really want. I can’t do it while staying in Santo Padre. You don’t deserve this act of selfishness. You saved me once and I could never thank you enough for the life you gave me. I’m truly and deeply sorry. I hope you will find the strength to forgive me some day.

Te amo mucho, Y/N Losa

He immediately called Alvarez and the Mayans proceeded in checking on the most logical places: train & bus stations, hospitals, your friends, at Martha’s, at the Carniceria, your favorite spots but in vain. It was like you disappeared from the face of the globe. Bishop was devastated and couldn’t stop reading the letter, smashing everything he could find before bursting in tears. The rest of the club was also devastated, feeling like they’ve lost a daughter themselves while Coco, on his side, was furious, feeling like you tricked him.

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embretheworld · 4 years

Text

Cole is pissed off at Wu, but honestly? He should be

Words: 4022

Takes place after season 13

It had been a day or so since they left the Kingdom of Shintaro and the atmosphere was fun, not a care in the world and everyone's happy since they're going on another adventure, or it's supposed to be if it weren't for what happened. There's an unnormal veil of tension on the Bounty, no one knows why it's there but it just is and no one addresses it either. That's until someone finds the source of where it's coming from, why everyone's walking on eggshells for seemingly no reasons. Jay spots it, but he isn't afraid to point it out.

"You're angry for no reason, that's the problem, Cole! We just got back from a Kingdom most people don't get the chance to go to which you just so happened to save! How the hell are you mad?" Jay snaps at him, he's angry, and rightfully, or at least he thinks he is.

And Cole laughs, he fucking laughs and Jay isn't sure what to think about that. "I have every right to be angry right now Jay, I went to that Kingdom expecting a chance to relax but instead I come out only to know that I was lied to from day one. But of course, my feelings don't matter because we're ninja's we can't go soft, so I guess the fact that I'm angry that I've been lied to really doesn't matter to you, does it, Jay?" His voice is laced with venom, so much venom, and anger that Jay can't form a reply, he didn't mean for this to happen.

And this time, the boy sharply turns towards Lloyd, a fire never seen before in his eyes. "I'm soft, aren't I? Letting my emotions take over my reason of sense is wrong isn't, it Lloyd?" And Lloyd backed up, stretching his hands out in a defensive way shaking his head, Cole was feral at best right now. "Cole, you know that's not what I meant-"

"Bullshit, and you know that Lloyd, we all let you have your time to process your emotions so why can't I have mine? Or is it the fact that I'm not the Green Ninja? Is that the reason why I don't get time to process anything because I'm not the Green Ninja and just some ordinary ninja?!" With that, it starts a back and forth between him and Kai, along with some other ninja's joining in. Zane stands by watching, along with Nya while Lloyd is just shell shocked since the accusation hit him like a slap to the face, Cole wasn't wrong but at the same time he wasn't right either, he just had to ask for help.

Kai and Jay team up and yell at Cole who yells back in response, a fight like this wouldn't be unusual if it weren't for who was fighting it and why they were. It's like a hurricane, it's small at first, building up over time when the temperature is right until a huge storm arises from it, lightning stricks and burns everything in its path leaving disaster in its wake. It destroys anything it can reach until nothing's left in its path but there's a last attempt to survive the wreckage, but of course it's rare that you'll survive it.

"THE SENSEI I LOOKED UP TO LIED TO ME!" With that, the room went eerily quiet. Cole let out a deep, tired sigh, uncurling his fists only to curl them again, shaking like a leaf with anger. "Yeah," He said to no one in particular. "That's what I thought," Turning sharply on his heels he goes to exit but the door to Sensei Wu's room has opened, he's down the hall and now in the room.

"What is going on here?!" Sensei Wu practically yells and the room falls to silence. It's all peaceful for once in the storm since they're all at the end of it, the storm is gone but now that’s all left is the wreckage of it.

Everyone looks at each other, who's gonna say what happened first, they wonder, who's gonna snap back at him and who will defend him. The person who breaks the quietness, that tension, who brings the vicousness of storms raging onto the man is none other than the man who started brewing up the storm himself. Cole turns on his heels and a wave of destruction follows in his path.

"Do you know what it's like Sensei, huh? To have to figure out that your own father and Sensei lied to since day one lied to you about your own mother, and not even be able to process it because you have to save your own friends? And not to mention that the fact you still don't get to process any of it until even on the Bounty because no one will leave you alone about what happened? Yeah, I didn't think so,"

"Cole, your mother, Lilly-" Cole finds out that his mother's name sounds simply wrong coming out of his sensei's mouth now, it's wrong and he hates it, he hates it and someone like him shouldn't be saying her name after what he did.

"Your mother wanted the best for you, your mother wanted to hide things from you, your MOTHER wanted your own Sensei and dad to lie to you thinking that wouldn't mess you up. It's too late for that excuse Sensei- if that's what you even are at this point! Maybe Wu isn't even your real name!" Cole snaps, bitterness and anger building up in his minds. His fists are shaking along with him, he's red face a furious and no one wants to know what's going to happen next.

"Cole this is unacceptable behavior on-" Before Master Wu could finish his sentence Cole cut him off with a scream.

"IT'S UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR THAT I WAS LIED TO BY YOU AND MY OWN FATHER!"

And with that, Cole does a sharp one-eighty and storms off towards he door, loudly slamming it out behind him leaving the room deafeningly quiet. And no one dared to move from their spots but instead starred towards the door with the same expression, shock, and confusion. But Sensei Wu breaks it by letting out an exasperated sigh and shakes his head. "I fear that this is the worst possible outcome that could have happened,"

And Lloyd slowly turned towards Wu, slack-mouthed and all-out surprised. "Sensei Wu?..." The Green Ninja's voice is quiet, faltering, and unsure; Sensei Wu responds by looking towards him. "What just happened?..."

"I fear the worst, I did not mean for this to happen, you can continue with whatever you were previously doing I will deal with this situation myself."

"But Sensei Wu! Was Cole really right, did you really lie to him like that because if he was I-" Sensei holds up a hand that instance shushes him. "I did it because I was told to, not because I wanted to,"

"So, what about Cole? Are we gonna ignore how he walked out and no one's gonna address that or will it just be me? Is no one gonna go after him?" Jay states with a bewildered expression still confused like the rest of them are. "That will not be needed, he needs time to clear his mind or else the reaction will be just the same if not worse,"

"But what if-" But Sensei Wu cuts him off before he can finish his sentence, Jay isn't surprised, he tends to rabble a lot when it comes to the safety of his friends. "He's not going to do that, continue with whatever you were previously doing, I will be in my room if you need me,"

Sensei Wu waves everyone off with a simple command and they continue to do with whatever they were doing before this whole situation started, and no one looks for Cole out of fear of setting him off even more.

When Cole enters the main room of the Bounty again no one in the Bounty bothers to approach him, but instead, avoid him. He looks different from what he looked like when he came back, more ruffed up- his hair is messier than usual, his clothes are slightly scuffed up and his knuckles are red- and less angry, but even with the fact he's less angry still deters the ninja. No one wants to talk about it, so no one talks about it and leaves Cole to his own devices. Or at least they were planning to until Lloyd decided not to.

Upon returning from where ever he was in the Bounty the first room he goes to is his room- or the room they all shared- and no one goes into the room for an hour, the first one to go into the room is Lloyd. He looks around the room and spots Cole who sitting on his bed with crossed arm, letting out a huff when he hears the door open. His bed is messy, sheets splayed unruly across the bed, his pillows pushed into corner of the bed; and Lloyd immediately knows that this will be harder than he thinks it will be.

In one swift motion he makes he's way to Cole's bed, sitting down beside the other ninja with a small awkward smile, he was never the best when it came to these kind of things, no one really was.

"Are you doing okay now?" And Lloyd immediately regrets saying that because after an outburst like that? There's no way you can be fine.

"What do you think?" Clipped and short. He's still mad.

"You're still mad, and for good reason, no one deserves to be lied to like that; not even you."

With that Cole goes silent, fists curled in on themselves and Lloyd knows that look of his, devastation and resentment, lips curled into a frown as his eyebrows are knitted together. "I'm gonna hug you, okay? If you don't want a hug just tell me."

So Lloyd pulls him into a hug and the effect is immediate, as a tsunami of emotions crash down onto the other ninja and he hugs him back, tightly. And Cole sobs into Lloyd's shoulder, not the 'I'm just kinda sad kind of sobs', the 'I'm frustrated with everything and I'm so tired of pretending that I'm okay kind of sobs'. As Lloyd holds his friend- no, big brother- in a hug, he notices that Cole is shaking like a leaf, muttering incoherent words under his breath which Lloyd can conclude to being 'sorry'; Lloyd just hugs him even tighter than before.

"It's fine Cole, you didn't do anything wrong," And the Black Ninja just shakes his head and continues to cry. But Lloyd doesn't hold it against him for denying that, he had done that before, he had been in this situation before, he had gone through so many things that he knows that this adventure- that going to that castle and finding out what they found out- was just the straw that broke the camel's back. But Lloyd silently promises Cole that he'll help him through it just like he helped him back then, he promises.

Soon enough, Cole's sob's quiet down until there's nothing left for him to cry, he swiftly pulls away from the hug, turning his body away from Lloyd and looks down at the ground. "'M sorry Lloyd,"

"It's fine Cole, nothing to be sorry about, I'm the Green Ninja, I'm sure I can afford to replace my shirt," Lloyd isn't sure if that's what Cole meant but it gets a laugh out of him and he's happy that he even managed that.

"I'm talking about what I said earlier," A small ache finds it's way in Lloyd's heart, he knows his brother didn't mean it, he knows that but it sill hurts.

"That's fine too, I don't mind," It's a lie, Cole knows that, he knows that damn well and wants to apologize if only Lloyd would let him- "B... But I-"

"Shush, I don't care, you were mad, you said something you regret we've all been there," And Lloyd isn't sure where he got all this knowledge in the first place but he doesn't question in the slightest, it's more helpful than he can ever express it to be.

"I doubt that..."

"Look," And finally Cole looks at him. "I don't care if you need to cry, I've cried in front of you before so there's no reason for me to judge you. You've helped me get through things I needed to get through so I'm going to help you, whether you want to talk about it or not I'll still be there."

"I... Thanks, I'm not good with," He motioned his hands as if to convey his words in thin air. "this, emotions aren't a thing I'm good at."

"Yeah... Emotions are like, really hard to express..." A pregnant pause follows what Lloyd said while the green ninja wracks hims mind around a solution to the problem, a thing he can say to make it all better, but he can't. The pause grows longer but so does the tension, and Cole goes to stand up but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder pulling him back down onto the bed. He gives the black ninja sheepish smile, which Cole returns back, he knows Lloyd is trying and he's glad that he is.

"You like drawing right?" Cole raises an eyebrow at him. "Yeah... And?" He trails off the end part of the word 'and' with a quirked brow.

"Can you teach me how to?" The way he say's it takes him back to when he was learning how to even do spinjitsu and would be so nervous to ask how to learn to do small tedious task out of fear that he might be rejected for it, his school teachers always used to criticize him for asking the simplest of questions like what the directions were again. He considers it for a moment, and for a moment Lloyd thinks he might say no but he doesn't.

With a shrug Cole say's "Sure," and jumps off the bed in which Lloyd follows in suite. No one bats an eye when Cole goes in the storage room to get out some paper's- since he isn't using his sketchbook especially when he's upset, he learned from past experience- and color pencils and goes back to their room. Neither does anyone bat an eyes when there's two new drawings on the fridge but if they did notice they didn't say a word.

That night Cole wakes up with his heart beat pounding in his ears and in a cold sweat. A nightmare, it wasn't like it was an infrequent thing for them to have especially after what happened to them in the past. But for him it was a thing he hated, he hated nightmares with the entirety of his being, they always poked something wrong with him and he despised it with the entirety of his being.

He wipes his sodden cheeks and quietly gets up out of bed pads his way to the bathroom to wash off his face. The cold water splashing on his face makes him shiver if this was a year or so back he'd hate the feeling of water and cold and he'd probably flinch away from it, but he didn't, water was fine now, he wasn't a ghost anymore and it couldn't kill him any longer. Though sometimes he'd still have those dreams they were few and far between now thankfully.

Leaving the bathroom he swiftly and quickly made his way out onto the Bounty and sat on the back of it. Some people would say the silence of the night is eerie, no birds chirping, no sounds of the highway and cars passing by in the late of the night, just pure silence, but Cole would call this a gift after everything he had been through in the past week.

His breath is caught in his throat when he hears the door open behind him, blood running cold he wishes that some of them weren't light sleepers. The wooden floorboards don't creak under whoever's stepping on it like it used to with the old Bounty, it's not like he isn't thankful for it, he just isn't used to it still. Said person finds themselves sitting next to him, long lanky legs hanging over the Bounty's edge and he recognizes that person as Zane; what a surprise that he'd be the one to wake up right after he does.

A once peaceful silence is filled with thick tension, a tension thicker than the heat on a normal summer day and Cole once again hates it. He doesn't want to be tense, he wants to relax but Zane's presence won't allow it. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate his friend, he enjoy's his company just like he does with the other but right now he doesn't want to deal with it, and he's pretty sure Zane doesn't catch onto it when he turns his body away from him with folded arms.

"Cole, are you... Okay? Ever since you came back from that trip of your's you've been unusually quiet," He leans slightly trying to get Cole to look at him but fails, cocking his head to the side with creased brows and crestfallen lips. "I just... I don't know what to say,"

"That's fine," Zane nods in understanding. "Thanks,"

"...Would it be okay if I sit here and be quiet with you for a while?" Cole smiles, "That sounds nice,"

For once, the silence isn't deafening, for once the quiet is peaceful and welcomed, and for once, once in his life he's happy that it's quiet and not scared. There had been too many instances where the quiet scared him, whether it be in the middle of a battle or at the end of a fight, he was so used to someone cheering or shouting that they won, silence is deafening and it scares him. So used to hearing the sound of Jay playing video games in the background, or Zane cooking and most likely talking with Pixal about something, Kai training, Lloyd training or talking with Nya that he's used to the noise. This time he doesn't want noise, he wants silence and he's thankfully being given it.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you up this late?" But sadly, Zane cuts through that silence he so desperately wanted to cling to. "I thought we agreed to being quiet?" He bitterly asks, he doesn't mean for it to come off as bitter but it does. He apologizes in his mind.

"Right, my apologizes," Goddamnit don't apologize. "Nah, it's fine Zane I understand,"

"Then if we agreed on not being silent anymore can you tell me why you are up this late?" Good point good point.

"Promise not to judge me or tell anyone else?"

"You have my sincerity," Cole knows that Zane doesn't break his promises but he still hesitates slightly."You know how I had to save the Kingdom of Shintaro?"

"How could I forget? The Geckles and Munce spoke very highly of you along with your mother, when it was all over." And that brings up memories.

The memories of him telling the others he's going to go nap and one Geckle and Munce hearing him saying that and offering a place to stay in their caves, he politely declined them. Or how surprised they were to realize that his mother was gone, and he was her son, and so many other things they wanted to offer him since he was his mother's son. Sure, he loved the attention, he didn't revel in it like Kai but he liked it but he just wanted to go to sleep like right now but he probably wouldn't be able to due to the nightmares he was having.

"Yeah, well they wanted me to stay there too help rebuild their kingdom and solve any future problems too," Which was terrifying for him, he wasn't his mom, he couldn't do that, just like he couldn't rule over the Geckles in Munce at once. He just couldn't stay, he had his friends, they needed him, and he needed them; he also needed some answers. "But you didn't,"

"Yeah, my mom did a lot and I'm not really sure if I can live up to it, after all, she did... A lot,"

"I don't understand?..." Thinking back on it, the only people who know of what happened in that cave are him, Sensei Wu, Vania, and the Upply group. The other's didn't know what he knew, they didn't know what he was lied about, they didn't know about his mother's story. Worst of all they have to be crushed by the fact that they had been lied to by they're own father and sensei, he had to, and he would always be.

"My mom made a mech, crafted two weapons, befriended both the Geckle and Munce, brought down the Griefbringer, found that place before anyone knew it existed and did who knows what else! I probably did half of that. Maybe not even half!" Yes, Zane knows that everyone knows the Geckles and Munce wouldn't shut up about it, and practically raved about her to anyone they could.

"But you're not your mother, you never will be," He knows that, and reminding will only make him feel worse than he already is. "Exactly! Tell me something I don't know!"

"That's not what I meant Cole,"

"Then what did you mean?"

"I meant that no one will ever be able to live up to a legacy, Morro tried that but failed to, no one will ever be able to do the same thing as someone else did since it's impossible to do exactly that." Touche, touche. But that still didn't help his situation, the situation that he'd never live up to his mother's legacy, they legacy he had to uphold that he might never be able to uphold. He probably wouldn't be able to hold a candle to her when it came to what she did. "Is it, really?"

"Unless you wish to go back in time and do those things yourself, then no, it is impossible, but yet again that didn't turn out well for anyone involved in it when it happened."

"You aren't that good with comforting people are you Zane?" The white ninja looks down at his feet and shakes his head, biting the inside of his metal cheek. "No," He answers.

"Comfort is not one of the things I'm particularly good at,"

"Alright," Cole suddenly gets up with a slight bounce in his step and Zane stares at him with his brow's nearing his hairline. "what'd you say I make some hot chocolate you reheat some cookie or something and we watch a movie because right now I just..." He sighs, he doesn't want to talk about his nightmares. "Want to watch some movies to get my mind off of everything that happened,"

Zane simply nods and gets up ignoring the other's ninja hand that was held out, with the roll of his eye's Cole goes to make hot chocolate and Zane goes to make cookies- even though he probably shouldn't. He puts on a random movie and waits for Zane to come and sit on the couch with cookies and they watch to movie, cookies, and hot chocolate to snack on and drink while they watch it.

Cole ends up falling asleep in the middle of the movie and when he wakes up the next morning in his bed even though he can swear he fell asleep one the couch. Did Zane really just-

He shakes his head and doesn't question the logistics of what happened that night and goes to eat breakfast feeling better than he did yesterday, that heavy feeling on his chest lifted slightly. It'll get better soon, he knows that, he just has to work on it.

76 notes · View notes

spritewrites · 4 years

Text

like children

Fandom: Shades of Magic (by V.E. Schwab)

Characters: Kell Maresh & Rhy Maresh

Word Count: 2055

“Go away. I’m working on a strategy.”

It was late afternoon when Kell said it, but he still hadn’t changed out of his bedclothes. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t quite remember when the last time he’d changed his clothes was. His blue eye was red with exhaustion, and his reddish hair was sticking up at odd angles - he’d been running his fingers through it. Thirty-six hours awake isn’t ideal for anybody, magic or not.

“For what?”

Rhy was laying on his bed, idly picking at the bedcovers. He had the cool, measured tone that Kell recognized, the one that made the frustration rise in his throat. It was the tone Rhy always adopted when Kell stayed up too long. The one he used when he was trying to convince him of something, something he didn’t think he’d like. Such as calming down. Or eating. Or sleeping.

“For the games.”

Rhy barked out a laugh. “The Essen Tasch? Saints, Kell, why? I entered you to be a stress reliever, not so you could run yourself into the ground!”

A fist clenched around the edge of his parchment, wrinkling the corner. It took a moment for Kell to realize that it was his. He cleared his throat, smoothing the paper back out as best he could. Rhy didn’t need to worry about him, on top of all his responsibilities with the competition.

“If I’m going to compete,” he replied, “I’d prefer not to be humiliated in my own city.”

The stray piece of thread that Rhy had been tugging at came loose. “You’re the most powerful magician in Arnes, probably in the whole world. None of the other champions can compete with an Antari. Your win is… inevitable.”

“You flatter me.”

Rhy laughed at that. “Trust me, brother, I don’t intend to do anything of the kind.”

Kell groaned, trying to steady his voice before Rhy can realize exactly how exhausted he was. It couldn’t work, he knew. The only reason Rhy was here was because he could feel that bone-aching tiredness in their bond.

“Still. I should be doing research. Practicing. Alone.” His voice dropped slightly, almost imperceptibly. “I’ve never worked with only one element before.”

Rhy’s eyes were lit with amusement, and something else. Something sadder. “Well. You’ll have to… hold back, then. So, there’s not much need to study. You can rest.” A hint of mischief grew in his smile. “Besides, you’ll need all your strength if you go up against Alucard Emery.”

Kell felt his cheeks grow hot, his mild scowl deepening into a frown. His classic look, and he knew even before Rhy opened his mouth that his brother would tease him for it, but for all his secrets, he could never hide his feelings from him. Besides, anything he felt, Rhy would feel too. Inevitability again.

“Ah, come, is my favorite brother feeling a little self-destructive?” Rhy teased, leaning up on his elbows. His black hair shone in the light, painting the perfect picture of an innocent angel. Kell nearly snorted. Anything but.

“If you’re only going to distract me, then I don’t recommend sticking around. There’s the door.” A gust of wind ruffled Rhy’s robes on its path to fling the chamber door open. Kell turned back to his papers, ignoring the grumbling he could hear from the prince’s direction.

The leash he was tethered to here at the castle felt shorter than ever, and Rhy’s relentless presence was a symptom of that tether. He could remember a time, not so very long ago, when his frequent travels as the crown’s Antari had kept his time with Rhy short. Perhaps too short. His thoughts would drift often to his carefree brother, envious both of his position and his weightlessness as he waltzed through Red London society, blind to the true depth of the responsibilities that Kell held. During those times, he had often wished to be able to be closer to Rhy, like they had been as children, siphoning off some of his easy charm and wit. Now, he thought ruefully, he wished dearly that his brother would go away.

Kell was snapped from his thoughts by a hard pinch at the back of his neck. He cursed, spinning to fume at his brother. “I thought I told you to get out and stop bothering me!”

Rhy hadn’t moved – he was lazing on his back, hands tucked behind his head and wearing a grin that spoke only of mischief. Saints, Kell was familiar with that grin. Stupid bond.

“You did. But you seemed unfocused. I figured I’d draw your attention back to your… work.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I knew what I was doing,” Rhy replied easily. He rolled onto his stomach, clutching a satin-edged pillow to his chest and kicking his bare feet. “Truthfully, I wanted to spend some time with my favorite brother. Since, of course, you’re not busy. Not busy doing anything healthy, anyway.”

Kell rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child.”

One of Rhy’s eyebrows quirked up with almost a mind of its own. His curly head dropped into something like a bow, and he adopted his most regal voice, the one he reserved for the high court.

“Forgive me, Master Kell, for my insolence. Please, continue your work. I shan’t disturb you again.”

This time Kell did snort, a gruff, low sound that hurt his throat. He didn’t think that was supposed to hurt. Come to think of it, a lot of him was hurting right now. Rhy probably felt it too. Maybe sleep would be welcome.

He’d scarcely had the thought when he felt something large and soft hit the back of his neck. He reeled to see his brother casually staring up at the ceiling, feigning innocence, and one of his pillows on the floor. Kell narrowed his eyes, but Rhy refused to look at him. He was actually humming. Ass.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Hm?” Rhy replied, sliding his gaze over to Kell’s furious glare.

“You’re going to try to wear me out, so I have to sleep.”

“Oh, am I?”

Rhy sounded amused. Kell fought the urge to set the bed on fire, just to see his brother jump. He settled on rolling his eyes.

“It’s not going to work.”

“It isn’t?”

“I’m impervious to your efforts to distract me.”

“Ah, you are?”

“I am as immovable as a Veskan warrior.”

“I see.”

“So. There’s really no need to try. And you can just leave me be.”

Rhy grinned, eerie and catlike, a grin that made the hair on the back of Kell’s neck stand on end. Sanct.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The shriek that Kell let out as his brother launched at him would have been quite embarrassing, had it not been disguised by the screech of chair legs against the stone floor when they both toppled over. Instantly, Kell’s wrists were in Rhy’s grasp, and he grunted and squirmed as best he could, but the crown prince was heavier than he looked.

“Get off,” he wheezed, heating up his palms and trying to grab at where Rhy’s hands held him firm – not enough to burn, just enough to make him let go – but he couldn’t quite reach. His heels scrabbled against the wooden floor, and distantly he could hear Rhy chuckling. Kell felt his face grow hot with rage and embarrassment at being so easily overtaken. The absolute bastard.

In a desperate effort, Kell filled his lungs and blew out a huge gust of magical wind, lifting his brother off of him, but also scattering his papers in a tornado around the room. No matter. He’d gather them back up when he wasn’t fighting for his life.

“No fair using magic!”

Kell knew how to wrestle with Rhy. He’d had practice. In recent years he’d sometimes been called upon to act as his sparring partner during Rhy’s combat lessons, but he’d been rolling over the grooved stone of the halls of this palace with his brother since before he could remember.

Unfortunately, Rhy had had the same practice. He managed to get an arm around Kell’s knees, but Kell still had the upper hand, most of his wriggling body still free, and he couldn’t quite pin his legs down for the kicking. Kell tugged at Rhy’s elbow, trying to dislodge the vice-like grip, but suddenly found himself with a face full of the same pillow that had hit his back before.

Kell yelped, twisting to try to escape over the bed, grasping desperately at his slipping sheets in an effort to climb away. Unfortunately, Rhy was Rhy, and when it came to these fights, when it came to Kell, Rhy was merciless. He’d scarcely made it over the edge of the mattress when he felt his younger brother at his back, grabbing at his waist and laughing breathlessly with the sheer energy of the fight.

Kell was laughing too, sort of, trying to fight it, so it was coming out more as huffs through gritted teeth. Rhy looked absolutely delighted at this development, much to Kell’s chagrin. Part of the game, at least as it was originally played, was Kell trying to maintain his mask of dignity. Laughing wasn’t part of it. Not ideally, anyway. His body sometimes had other ideas. Especially when Rhy was looking up at him like that, so adoringly, so carefree. The giddiness of it all was hard to fight.

And Rhy knew it.

The prince managed to sneak a hand under his brother’s shirt and dig into his sides, exactly where he knew Kell was horribly ticklish. Any other time, Kell would have shrugged him off easily and scolded him for his ridiculous, childish behavior. But his utter exhaustion made his nerves sing, and, to his horror, he broke into hoarse, helpless giggles. Rhy’s smile widened, and at first that made Kell struggle harder – Smug bastard, he thought – flipping onto his back to shove at the prince’s ruthless fingers, the ones that knew exactly where to prod to get the best reactions.

But then he saw that look on Rhy’s face. It was everything that he always wanted to see – joy, mischief, humor, love. Everything he was always looking for when he gazed into those honey-brown eyes. He couldn’t deny Rhy that, not now. So, despite his natural instincts, Kell stopped fighting, falling back against the sheets and resigning himself to full-out laughter just as evil hands crawled their way up to his ribs.

“Do you yield?” teased Rhy, fighting back laughter of his own as he tried to tune out the mirrored (albeit faint) echoes of sensation on his own body.

Kell tried to speak, he really did, but it’s awful hard to get out a coherent sentence when your not-so-little brother is tickling you to pieces. Finally, he managed a nod, and Rhy mercifully rolled off of him to collapse onto the foot of the bed, a huge grin on his face.

“F-fuck you,” Kell choked, clutching his stomach and gasping for air.

Rhy chuckled. “Feeling tired yet?”

Kell swatted weakly at him, still leaking giggles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The creases around Rhy’s eyes softened a little. “You don’t laugh like that anymore.”

For a moment, Kell simply felt his breath enter and leave his lungs, listening to the wind whistle outside the window. He could lay here forever like this. Then he took Rhy’s hand.

“No. No, I don’t.”

For a while, the two brothers lay beside one another, catching their breath and staring up into the dark fabric that covered the ceiling. If you unfocused your eyes enough, Kell thought, you could almost imagine yourself soaring into that inky blackness, dodging between the stars.

“Hey, Kell?”

A sigh through his nose. “Yeah?”

“…Never mind.” Rhy’s voice was small. Kell held his breath. For a second, he was certain that if he turned to look at his brother, he would see him exactly as he’d been that night after he’d rescued him from the Shadows. He squeezed his hand.

“Rhy?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.” For cheering me up. For knowing me well enough to know that I need cheering up. For the Essen Tasch. For being my brother.

“You’re welcome.”

They stayed like that for a long time, long after Kell fell asleep.

#tickling #tickle fic #shades of magic #ve schwab #ticklish!kell #my fics #kell maresh #rhy maresh

16 notes · View notes

eleanor-devil · 5 years

Text

Lupus: The Lost Celestial Spirit

This one-shot was a written collab between me and @mirage-05 and is part of a future long fanfic centering the Sabertooth guild.

Rin is @mirage-05‘s OC and is currently the same age as Wendy Marvell, thus making her Sabertooth’s youngest mage!

Feedback is appreciated!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Absolutely not." Sting's voice echoed in his office as he held a piece of paper in his hand, a job request to be more specific. "You are not going on this job alone, Yukino."

The white haired mage sighed, when she came to his office to show what new job she was going to take, Yukino hadn't really come for an approval, she couldn't even understand why the Master was denying it in the first place! The request clearly stated the of help of a Celestial Spirit Mage was needed given that the cause of the request in the first place was a Celestial Spirit gone wild.

"Sting-sama, I'm afraid I can't deny this job. A Celestial Mage is needed and I am one as you know."

"To take care of a Celestial Spirit gone wild, the job isn't just for one person!"

Yukino arched an eyebrow. "I appreciate your concern but I can take care of myself..."

"Take Rogue with you. Or at least Orga or Rufus!"

"Sting-sama... they've all gone on jobs..."

"Well then wait until someone comes back."

Sighing was all Yukino could do to not throw her hands up in exasperation - which was saying something because she wasn't the type to have an outburst -. But Sting-sama's attitude - and the implication that she couldn't handle a job herself, no matter how dangerous it is - was really starting to get to her. "So are you suggesting we leave that town to its own until I can find someone to go with me? Allow me to say this is not you Master."

Sting was about to say something more, but the Celestial Mage could see the warring emotions on his face clear as crystal. Of course this didn't fit in with the blond's sense of righteousness.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Seeming to be relieved to have a break, Sting spoke without looking up. "Come in."

"Sting-n... I mean Master, I was wondering..." Rin cut her rambling short when she saw Yukino already in the room, and the wondrous look that she seemed to always have around her settled on her features as well as a bright smile. "Oh, hi, Yuki-nee."

Yukino just simply waved her hand at the young girl, giving her a soft smile before turning to face her Master again with a serious face, hands on her hips.

"Well Master? I believe I can't wait much longer while that poor village is haunted by that spirit."

Sting rubbed his gloved hands on his face in frustration, maybe he was passing off the wrong idea, he knew Yukino could do jobs on her own but the idea of her facing a wild spirit - he had never heard of such a thing before - just made him think of all the possible and worst outcomes.

"Can you at least take Rin with you then?"

The Celestial Mage blinked, taken aback. "Rin?" Or had she misheard? Sting-sama didn't want to send her on what supposedly was a dangerous mission, but he was okay with sending their youngest mage with her?

"I'm going on a mission with you?! Awesome!" The young girl chimed in excitedly, apparently oblivious to the slight tension between them.

Hearing the enthusiasm in her voice, Yukino couldn't help but smile. Well... it was the Master's problem if he wanted to keep worrying about it. She wasn't going to treat another guild member the way she didn't like to be treated. "Gladly." she said firmly, an unwavering look in her eyes as she locked eyes with the Dragon Slayer. Then she turned back to face the girl. "Let's go then, shall we?"

"Yukino" Sting's voice stopped them just before they reached the door. "Be careful."

There was a warning in the brown eyes now as Yukino looked over her shoulder to him. "With all due respect, Master, we are Sabertooth Mages, not babies. We will handle this."

"We will be fine, so don't worry, 'kay?" Rin said with a big grin.

The way Yukino looked at him nearly made him sweat, and that was saying something, Sting wasn't a person that easily felt scared or worried. He couldn't help but let out a sigh before he sat back again on his chair, returning to the immense paperwork he had to deal with but still his mind kept wandering to the two girls he had just allowed to go on a dangerous mission.

...

Yukino watched as Rin happily jumped around as they made their way towards the train station, although she didn't mind much taking the girl with her on this mission and yet she was still a bit saddened with Sting-sama’s earlier attitude, did he really think she couldn't take care of this situation on her own? Did he think she was that weak that she always needed someone to accompany her on a mission, even more a mission that requested the usage of her own kind of magic?

If that was how he felt then why would he even invite her back to the guild in the first place?

"Our train leaves in twenty minutes." her companion announced, giving her the ticket she had just bought. Yukino couldn't help but notice how truly happy she looked... and she couldn't help her mood lifting up slightly at the sight of it.

"You seem to be in good spirits today, Rin-chan."

"Well, I get to see you in action, don't I?" the girl said, rubbing her hands together. "I just can't wait to reach the town."

"U-umm... yeah..." the Celestial Mage said, now feeling a little awkward. Rin seemed to be pretty much the only one in the guild who truly believed in her powers... though Yukino didn't know why. This was their very first mission together and the girl hadn’t seen her in action yet.

"Don't mind what Sting-nii said. I know we'll ace this mission."

She wasn't really sure about that anymore... when she first saw the mission requesting specifically for Celestial Spirit Magic to solve the situation, Yukino had actually got enthusiastic about it but now that mood was completely gone.

But so not to break the girl's good spirits, Yukino just nodded and gave her a small smile.

The trip on the train wasn't that long, just about thirty minutes and during the whole trip Yukino had sat down listening to Rin talking about how excited she was with this job and especially how she couldn't wait to see the Celestial Mage kicking the Spirit's butt and recapturing it.

While listening to the girl, Yukino had started thinking herself how they would deal with the Spirit, it would probably be easier if they found the Spirit's key but first of all she would need to find out the reason why the Spirit had gone wild in the first place.

"Rin-chan, can you tell me more about your powers?" It wasn't just for the mission's sake that she wanted to know about it, she was genuinely curious as she hadn't seen their youngest mage's abilities yet.

"I use Light Magic. Its actual name is Aurora Borealis though." The girl cocked her head to a side as she thought of how best to explain what her magic could do. "Mainly it gives me maximum speed, and I can create some illusions with it. The illusions are short-timed though... effective for about fifteen minutes." Her shoulders slumped then and she averted her eyes. "I'm sorry... I really don't know any offensive spells."

Yukino, on her end, was intrigued by what she told. "No, I think it's an interesting magic. And there are a lot of supportive magic users who do great things." She felt the need to reassure the girl... if anything, in her eyes, no one should feel insecure about their magic.

"Oh I know." Rin's smile was back on. "My friend Wendy is one of them."

Yukino smiled at the mention of the young Fairy Tail girl, it hadn't been that long since they parted ways with the guild but she kind of missed talking to her fellow Celestial Spirit Mage, Lucy. Maybe she would know how to solve this job easily but right now she wouldn't have the time to go to Fairy Tail and then return to the endangered village.

They would have to figure it out by themselves.

...

The two girls soon reached the village and the further they went into the path that led to said place, the more evident the destruction became. Trees completely scratched, some destroyed, even rocks. Just what kind of Spirit was this?

"Hello?" Yukino's voice echoed at the entrance of the village. "Is anyone here? We are mages from Sabertooth, we've come to deal with the Spirit." she announced. The village's appearance was actually giving her chills.

Rin looked through the destroyed trees, longer than Yukino would think necessary, as if she was searching for something. But just when the white haired mage was about to say something, the girl turned to her. "Its trail goes all the way to the caves up in those mountains." she said confidently as she pointed to said caves. "I don't know why it laid off from the village but..."

"Wait, hold on for a second," Yukino said, blinking in confusion. "You... can you track the Spirit?" How was that even possible, with Rin not being a Celestial Mage...

"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell! This is another thing I can do with my magic... Using the light particles people or creatures leave behind... I can track them. And since this is a Celestial Spirit... it left a lot of those behind."

"Wow..." was all Yukino could say. Now she was impressed.

"I'm sorry..." Rin said again, her head hanging low. "It's just that... it was something my father taught me..."

"Why are you apologising Rin-chan?" Yukino asked as she bent down slowly to reach the girl's height before patting her head softly. "That's an amazing magic that you have there."

Rin couldn't help the light blush that made its way to her cheeks, then she looked up at the woman in front of her and gave her a big smile. "T-Thank you Yuki-nee." she might not say it out loud just yet but... Yukino was her hero so receiving a compliment from her meant a lot to Rin, more than what anyone could ever imagine.

"Now let's go find some villagers."

"Yes!" the girl said eagerly, and without waiting for an answer, led the way to the village. She wasn't going to fail Yukino in this mission, no matter what.

...

In the meantime, Sting just wasn't able to sit still in his office.

He still had a big pile of paperwork waiting in the office - honestly, what wouldn't he give to burn all that paperwork now - but he couldn't concentrate on them at all. He had constantly found himself pacing in the main hall, or outside for a walk... and now he was at the guild bar, supposedly deciding for a drink - although the barmaid had asked him twice already what he wanted -.

Just then... the one person he had been waiting for walked into the guild, and the blond couldn't help but pull a big grin. "Rogue! Just the person I was looking for!"

"No." That was Rogue's flat out answer while keeping his dull look; Frosch cuddled in his arms was happily waving at Lector.

Sting, at his companion's answer, raised an eyebrow. "What? I didn't even ask anything yet!"

"The answer is still no." The Shadow Dragon Slayer bent down and allowed Frosch to go to her fellow Exceed, then returned to face the White Dragon Slayer who was now pouting.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask!"

"Something stupid I'm sure." He looked into his pocket and took out a paper, handing it to Sting. "The job was completed with success, although they could have used both Dragon Slayers to make things faster Master." why was everyone putting such an ironic tone today when addressing him with his Master title?

"See, that's my problem!" Sting said immediately, catching up on his friend's hint. "I need to go on this job but-"

"Need to?" Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you have some... important business to do, which was why you didn't come with me on this job?"

Good point. The Light Dragon Slayer tried to keep his face neutral. When Rogue asked him earlier, he just didn't feel like going on that job and he had been evasive. Instead, he had goofed off the whole day and only remembered the documents he had to sign later...

"B-but this is urgency!" he blurted out finally.

"Uh-huh." His friend didn't look the least bit impressed. "How is all the paperwork going?"

"They are being done." Now his grin turned sheepish. "...some help would be great though."

"Remind me again, why are you the Master and why is it me who ends up doing the paperwork instead of you?"

"That's... not entirely true, I also do paperwork!" and yet again Rogue raised his eyebrow which made the Light Dragon Slayer grumble. "Okay fine you do most of it."

He heard Rogue sigh audibly and could've sworn that a 'God give me patience' came out from his mouth as a mumble but just this time he decided to ignore it, after all he really reeeeally needed Rogue's help.

"What did you do this time?"

"Nothing! It's just uh..." he scratched his cheek while sweating. "Yukino and Rin went together on a job to hunt down a wild Celestial Spirit."

Rogue crossed his arms while he waited for him to say something more... which was obviously not gonna happen. "So? I fail to see the problem here."

"C'mooon Rogue," as usual when words were not enough to express how he felt, Sting threw up his hands. "I'm talking about a dangerous wild spirit here! Think about the many problems it could cause-"

"Which I know Yukino can handle on her own." the black haired man said, decidedly not commenting on the Celestial Mage's companion. "You should learn to trust your fellow mages to handle a job."

"What do you want me to do, beg or something?"

"It would certainly be fun to watch." Rogue said with a crooked smile. "But instead of doing that, why don't you go complete the paperwork so maybe you can catch up to them, idiot?"

Sting gave him a pout. "Well...can you help me?"

"Oh, I don't know, I have important business to take care of my own." He was so enjoying this that the glare he earned from his fellow Dragon Slayer didn't make him flinch, not even a little.

"Rogue..."

The Shadow Dragon Slayer rolled his eyes. "You're so helpless god. Fine I'll help...again."

"You are the b-"

"Don't even say those words if you are not meaning them." Rogue didn't know whether to get pissed or actually feel relieved that Sting didn't attempt to continue the phrase after his warning, so he just sighed again. "By the way, I hope for your sake that you didn't make Yukino feel like she couldn't handle the job on her own."

"Wha- nah, I'm sure she wouldn't take my words like that." Sting said confidently, which made Rogue wonder - for the millionth time - how his friend could be so oblivious sometimes.

"Well then, get going why don't you?"

...

It hadn't been easy to find villagers. The people had been hiding in their homes, too afraid to come out even with the Spirit nowhere in sight and their calling voices. Finally one had been daring enough to welcome them... and it didn't take the two girls long to realize that this villager was a key part of the puzzle.

"I see..." Yukino couldn't help the sad tone in her voice. "Its previous owner was killed in a battle... in this town..."

"It wasn't our fault though...!" The villager was quick to say it. "The owner of that spirit was doing what you are right now... they were completing a job which consisted in capturing a mage bandit... but things happened and I guess that Celestial Spirit blames us for the death of its owner."

"We are really desperate miss!" Another villager said. "Please, you've got to help us...!"

Yukino nodded without hesitation. "This is why we came for. Don't worry, we will deal with this Spirit, but first there are a few things that we need to know. Do you know where the key of this Spirit is at the moment?"

The villager they were first talking to shook his head "No, not at all. I can only assume it's probably lost somewhere in the place its owner died, if the river didn't take it away that is but nobody ever dared go find it."

A third villager approached the first one, placing his hand on the man's shoulder. "Oijiro-san... we must retire to our houses soon... the sun is setting..."

The man's eyes widened in surprise and they moved to look at the mountains where the setting sun could be seen. "Mages you must hurry, the creature comes out at night."

After reassuring the men that they would solve the issue as soon as possible, Yukino and Rin walked out of the house. The Celestial Mage looked thoughtful and... sad as many thoughts rambled around her head. The Spirit had lost its owner not too long ago... and apparently it had a great bond with them. As much as she wanted to wrap this up quickly for the sake of this town, it also pained her heart that she would basically have to force her will on the spirit too soon...

She turned to her companion when they reached the town center. "We need a plan."

"Umm..." The girl bit her lip. "I think I have an idea..."

"Oh? Do tell." The white haired mage was rather interested.

"Well you need to find the key right? I can distract the Spirit and get it out of town while you do that."

"Hmm..." It wasn't a bad idea actually, but Yukino didn't want the girl to be in trouble. Yet earlier the girl mentioned that her magic allowed her to move really fast, maybe it was worth the risk... "Alright but if anything wrong happens just use your magic to send me a sign and I will come."

Rin smiled big and nodded as the two wandered inside the forest. Yukino took out the Pisces key and summoned the Spirit.

"Pisces, please help me track down the key. The villagers said it would probably be by the river."

"Wow," Rin said, her eyes huge and admiring as she watched the Fish Spirits dive into the river. She knew she didn't have much time for that, though, since the sun's last rays were filtering down on them. "Well, see you later then, Yuki-nee. Let's do our best."

"Yeah." Yukino smiled at her. "Good luck."

And with that Rin was off, following the trail she had seen before to the caves. It wasn't a long trip at all, soon she was standing in front of the opening and... she could already hear a low growl, low but...definitely sounding like a big animal.

"Okay..." she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath before squaring her shoulders, building her courage. "I don't know which Spirit you are... well... I don't know many Spirits really..." she admitted sheepishly. "But... I came in peace, okay?"

Another growl, louder this time. It literally felt like a warning for her to go and not come back but Rin wasn't doing that, she was going to stick to the plan until the last minute and only if needed would she use the distress signal. But she wouldn't need it, she wasn't going to let Yukino down.

"Alright then..." She took another step towards the cave and this time she didn't get a growl as a warning, instead she immediately saw the creature jumping out of it, showing itself into the last rays of sun. To Rin it was a surprise when the creature revealed itself to be nothing more than a wolf, albeit much bigger than a regular one, it had black fur and brilliant amber eyes and many many scars on its body.

"So this is your true form..." Rin murmured but then prepared herself to start running in order to lead the creature away from the village. "Let's do this!"

The wolf raised its paw to strike at her, but the girl used her speed to appear next to a set of trees a little further away. "Over here!" she called out to the Spirit, waving her hand. "Catch me if you can!"

The wolf let out a long howl before jumping from its position, and Rin started to run, in a pace that would allow the Spirit to follow her easily and not get bored and turn its attention back to the weaker target. Hearing the set of heavy paws on the ground right behind her, she allowed herself one little smile before setting on the road that wound away from the village.

...

Hearing the howl into the night, Yukino's head snapped up and turned to the direction of the sound. "A wolf...?" she muttered to herself, and felt sweat dropping the side of her cheek. Then she turned back to the water, her eyes searching for her trusted Spirit. "Pisces, any luck?"

The two spirits emerged from the water and communicated with their Master, revealing that there was no luck with finding the key yet. Yukino started getting more worried, hoping Rin was doing well. "Thank you, go back and get some rest." The spirits shone a bright yellow light and then were gone; the Celestial Mage took out her second golden key. "Libra!"

The tan skinned woman appeared before her. "Yes, Master?"

"Please use your magic to lift the water from the river, we must find a Celestial Spirit key quickly."

The spirit nodded and in a swift move of her scales, the water of the river was soon lifted above their heads, Yukino jumped into the now empty path and started running through it, scanning every single corner.

She didn't know how long it took... but finally, her eyes caught a faint glimmer near the bank to her right. Honestly, she could've easily missed it because it was hidden so well beneath some rocks, and the night's colors were almost blending it.

The white haired mage immediately got on her knees and began lifting the rocks quickly - and thankfully they weren't heavy so she didn’t need to ask Libra to change its gravity too -. In her haste, she scraped her hands on the rocks, but she didn't stop... until she found the silver key that had a black wolf symbol on it.

"The wolf... Lupus..." she murmured to herself, closing her eyes for a moment in relief and a feeling that was akin to melancholy. When she reopened them, her hand closed in a fist around the key. "Don't worry... I'm going to give you the peace you deserve..." It wasn't a matter of acquiring a new key, none of that. In her heart, she really felt for this loyal Spirit who couldn't get over its Master's death.

Thanking Libra and sending her back to the Spirit World, the young woman began running through the same path that she had seen Rin leave, hoping that the girl hadn't gone too deep into the forest while luring away the beast. She hoped she could at least be able to see their footprints on the ground but Yukino wasn't much of a good tracker, not like the Dragon Slayers back in her guild, but she did learn a few techniques with them just in case situations like this where they weren't around happened.

"Rin!" she called but there was no answer as she reached the cave that she assumed to be the one where the villagers said the beast was hiding. "Rin-chan!"

There was no answer from the girl but not too far, Yukino could hear the wolf's howl and maybe it was her imagination but the girl could've sworn she saw a faint bright light mixed within the vegetation; therefore she didn't hesitate to run into that direction while gripping the key tightly in her hand.

...

"Heh... not bad," Rin said as she once again disappeared from where the wolf's paw struck, using a bit of her light to keep the spirit in track in the increasingly darkening forest. "You can do much better though, y'know."

The wolf released another howl, clearly agitated, and made a move to jump on the girl but a clear voice rang out before either of them could do anything more.

"Lupus!" The wolf came to a sudden stop, its eyes straightening and what Rin could only classify as a confused look coming over its big, amber irises. "You don't have to do this anymore…! I can help you!"

As the Spirit turned its attention away from her, the young Sabertooth mage couldn't help but smile brightly. "Yuki-nee!"

The woman though didn't give her attention to the little girl this time, her brown eyes never left those of the wolf, determination filled the young mage's stare. "Please Lupus, I know who you are, I know what happened to you." She slowly rose the key and made sure it was in the vision angle of the creature and immediately it growled, its fur rising up in defense. "What happened to your Master was a tragedy that no Spirit should ever have to go through, let alone be stuck in the human world." Sympathy made its way to the girl's eyes. "I can't have any idea of how painful it is to stay so long in this world, especially without your Master and I promise that I want to help you, I want to relieve you of your pain if you let me."

There was a moment of quietness...

And then the wolf ran towards the Celestial Mage.

"Yuki-nee!"

...

Sting had finally managed to finish all the goddamn paperwork on his desk, thanks to Rogue, and was already on his way to find the two mages of his guild and while he regretted not having gone by foot, as now he was holding everything in him to not puke all over the train, going by transportation would have him get there way faster.

He couldn't stop to rest for a minute when he got out of the train either though, he was only glad that the fresh breeze of air calmed the sick feeling a little. Taking a quick look at the mission paper in his hand for the address, he opened his senses, tracking the way to the town the fastest way.

He didn't have to make it into the village though, because as soon as he caught up Yukino's scent, he also heard a panicked yell. "Yuki-nee!"

"Damn it!" The blond Dragon Slayer cursed through his teeth and sped over to where he knew he would find the two.

What he saw when he arrived to the scene made his blood run cold. A huge monster bent over a shape on the ground... Yukino's cloak?!

"OI!!" Sting shouted, immediately readying an attack and sending it to the creature. It didn't seem to do much except anger it. The Spirit turned around to face him, and a ferocious growl ripped through its teeth.

"Lupus no!" Sting suddenly heard Yukino's voice as the girl sat up... looking just fine, well her hair was a bit disheveled and Sting could sense the creature's scent all over her - along with saliva -... "It's alright, he isn't an enemy." She moved to her knees to embrace the dark furred animal, patting it a few times which only made Sting even more dumbfounded.

"Um... what's going on?"

Rin tilted her head happily. "That's our Spirit, Sting-nii! That's Lupus from the Wolf Constellation."

"Why was it all over you?!" Sting's concern was audible in his voice as he took a few steps and extended his hand to help Yukino up.

When Yukino looked up at him, though... Sting felt a shiver go down his spine as it was the exact same expression Yukino had right before they left the guild. Ignoring his offer the girl got up on her feet and pretty much looked him down... making the Dragon Slayer feel small even though he was taller than her.

"Let me ask you a better question. Why are you here, Sting-sama?"

The blond felt sweat pouring down his back under the Celestial Mage's intimidating look. "I, umm... err..."

"You thought we couldn’t handle this, didn’t you?!" There it was, a clear hurt tone in Yukino's voice... which suddenly made Sting feel horrible.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just..." Words failed him... he had to admit; he had messed this up... big time.

He attempted to look at Rin for help but that was a really really bad choice as the young mage was looking at him as bad as Yukino was so he didn't even open his mouth.

The Wolf Spirit on the other hand, just growled again at the Dragon Slayer and Sting just growled back at it which just earned an eye roll from both girls.

"I didn't think that you two couldn't handle it!" The man finally admitted. "Especially you, Yukino..." He then looked down and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you were weak or something... I was just worried about you, I had never heard about a Celestial Spirit gone wild."

The girl's brown eyes softened a little at the Dragon Slayer's honest apology but.... she wasn't that soft. "Sting-sama..." she still used a disapproving tone.

"I will do anything to make you see how sorry I am!"

Now Yukino just moved one of her eyebrows up. "Anything?" And at the Light Dragon Slayer's nod, her usual soft looks turned into something Sting had never seen before in her, or even thought he would ever see in his life, and honestly it made him sweat: an evil glint and smile.

Yukino rose the silver key in her hands. "Lupus... I know we haven't formally made the contract yet but can you do me a favor?" The wolf growled as an answer. "I believe our Master needs to do some exercise."

Sting took a step back, and Lupus copied him, coming closer. "Y-Yukino... seriously...?"

"Remember Sting-sama... anything. I'd say you better start running now."

The blond really didn't need to be told twice as he turned back and bolted out of there, the wolf Spirit hot in chase. The Celestial Mage then turned to her companion, her smile turning to a sweet one. "Let's go back home."

...

"Oh?" Rogue looked up when he saw Yukino and Rin entering the guild. "You're already back huh? I thought Sting was with you too."

"He was." Yukino said serenely. "I believe they will arrive shortly, with the... hurry he is in."

The Shadow Dragon Slayer just looked confused, but indeed, in less than half an hour later, the White Dragon Slayer barreled into the guild, looking very out of breath. He leaned a hand on the wall, wheezing.

"What the hell happened to you?!" Rogue asked, baffled.

"I... I've been... chased by... her wolf spirit..." Sting managed between the wheezes, indicating his head to the Celestial Mage, who had just used the key to send the said wolf back to the Spirit World.

"Well, look at it on the bright side," Rin said, her smirk unrelenting. "At least you didn't get to use transportation."

"Why... you little..." Sting's voice lacked to show his irritation, mainly because he was still trying to catch his breath.

"Well Master, I'd say this was a lesson well-learned." Yukino told him while she put her new key on her belt. They had attracted quite a few guild members as onlookers now... and it could be easily said that they were seeing Yukino under a new light.

"Sheesh... remind me to never get on Yukino's bad side, will you?"

#fairy tail #sabertooth #yukino aguria #sting eucliffe #stingyu #sort of but I decided to tag it anyway #rin #oc #fairy tail oc #my writing

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bloody-delicious · 5 years

Note

Can I get a matchup please?? I'm a 5'6" trans man with brown hair and blue eyes. I'm shy at first but eventually get super attached to people. I love horror movies and any type of physical affection. I love animals, especially cats. I often use humor to cope with my emotions and have a hard time letting people help me when I'm vulnerable.

I match you with: baby!

• baby can seem intimidating at first glance, and this impression is only further backed by her unpredictable personality and manic behavior, which often presents itself in the form of senseless violence. her character may have developed this way through how she was raised, and by her own family's reckless tendencies. surrounded by gore, drugs, and sex for the majority of her life, baby has grown to be a daredevil and adrenaline junkie. needless to say, you will never find yourself bored with her close by. although she mainly craves chaos and destruction in all possible forms, she finds pleasure in exploiting the innocent and helpless, whether this is through violence, sex, drinking, drugs, partying, etc. being the shy, quiet individual, you will find yourself in a world not many dare to enter in their lives, should you cross paths with baby. her approach to acquainting herself if someone happens to catch her eye is not unlike a feral animal attacking a small woodland creature-she walks with the gait of a predator whose mind and morals have long since expired, a wolfish grin spread across her lips that seems to want to just eat you up, sweetheart, her mannerisms rigid and wild, hands surprisingly strong in their grip and eyes unknowably hypnotic with the corruption and madness contained within them. her tongue is sharp as the knife shell use to pretty you up, and as alluring as the hunters snare. you cannot play with fire and not get burned.

• in the blistering heat of the south, under the bleeding sun walks a woman with the heart of the devil and the flesh of an angel, red gooey hands swinging, dripping at her sides, her soul hungry for more, always more. her lips reveal an insanity on a sugar high, words and phrases mashed together in quick speed and a wicked tone brought up from the depths of her dark soul. baby lives a life of hedonism and hellish delights, and while she enjoys having her fun, she doesnt mind having others tag along, especially if she takes a liking to them. however, it is more likely that one would become a victim rather than a friend if they became the unfortunate target of her attention. still, your demeanor fascinates her, your face when she first knew she had to add you to her collection, your beautiful tears when she woke you in her room as she strapped you to a chair. your suffering is unimaginable beauty to her, though she would not go as far as to inflict any permanent damage. it is hard for her to restrain herself when your choked sobs and cries of pain are the melodies sung by the very angels above, but she manages. she would also be sure to keep the rest of the firefly family at bay, claiming you as her personal victim, as she retrieved you herself. in the time that follows, it is reasonable to imagine she would include you in the "shows" she often performs, always with teasing touches and the occasional rough grasp, feeling your soft skin under her hands. due to her frequent mood swings, you may find her petting your hair in her room as she sits beside you facing the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon, turning the evening sky into a lovely earthy blue and deep lavender as the world falls asleep, the summer air of the night filling your lungs, baby whispering sweet nothings, calling you her pet, her pretty, pretty pet. on the other side, you may find her lashing out in frustration, you, bound to her chair and unable to flee from her fury, those violent hands of hers punching holes in the walls and scratching at them in pure anger until her fingertips bleed raw, incoherent screeches of rage filling the room as she attacks all that is around her, smashing glass and throwing furniture, every so often pausing to make her way to you, forcing her face just inches from yours, white knuckles gripping the arms of the chair, her hot breath on your flesh, wild eyes barely able to stay still in contact with yours, those oh so violent hands picking up glass from the floor and dragging across your cheek and watching intently with what can only be described as pleasure as the red paints your skin.

• it is clear that baby herself enjoys a good laugh, though her sense of humor can be regarded as disturbing and odd. though she always seems to be in an excessively happy state due to her mental issues, she still appreciates someone who can make her laugh. if you tell her a joke, she'll laugh, even if she'd heard it a thousand times, even if what you said wasnt even meant to be a joke at all. if you do manage to open up to her and continue to entertain her humor, she'll grow quite attached. while she does have her bad days, she'll mainly prefer to spend time laughing with you instead of going out and finding other victims to slaughter. of course, she'll never cease her killing rampage, but her body count will begin to lessen as she finds that she would rather be with you. death, gore, and pain are still her passions, but she'll try to shield you from some of her and her family's behavior if she notices that it bothers you-without being too obvious, she also dislikes being emotional and serious. she would far rather stay on her happy high and believe that nothing matters at all. it is unlikely she will ever truly open up completely to anyone, but she will attempt to do little things here and there that she thinks will make you happy. if confronted, she'll dismiss it with a laugh and increase her agression and wild behavior for a period so as to not arouse suspicion from your or her family.

• baby is all too familiar with the world of sex. she often uses her body to lure in potential victims, and sometimes even continues to have "fun" with them before the kidnapping/killing. she loves anything that makes her feel good, anything that gives her pleasure and gives it to her fast-thus, her habits of drinking, doing drugs, killing, and having a lot of sex. she doesnt care for anyone elses well being until she begins to grow feelings for you. she would most likely attempt to seduce you as soon as she kidnaps you, but will not continue if you dont appear to want it as much as she does. baby prefers a situation wherein she and her victim are both enjoying themselves and therefore focused on the task at hand rather than focusing only on how to get away and make her stop. if you and her actually manage to form a trusting, undoubtedly faithful relationship, one in which you would not run away as soon as she turned her back, baby would eventually free you of your chair and integrate you into the family. you can expect her to attempt to seduce you again, but if you deny her, she will question your feelings for her-baby is not familiar with cuddling or anything of that sort. to her, love is expressed through sex, and you being uninterested signals to her that you do not love her. she will need to be taught that affection comes in many forms, and does not exist solely in pleasure. it will be a hard concept for her to grasp, however, after a while, you may wake to her shifting closer to you in the bed, her hands gentle, warmer, as she wraps them around you in an embrace.

#slasher x reader #baby firefly #house of 1000 corpses #the devils rejects

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love-takes-work · 7 years

Text

Sugilite: What was Sapphire’s deal?

For a long time since the reveal of Ruby and Sapphire, I’ve been seeing posts that (jokingly or not) suggest that Sugilite’s behavior, as a Fusion of Ruby, Sapphire, and Amethyst, was the result of the rambunctious Ruby and Amethyst dragging Sapphire along for the ride.

I kinda get why people say that, because obviously both Amethyst and Ruby are prone to anger and sometimes lack filters and coping mechanisms. Meanwhile, Sapphire seems so calm and in control. Surely Sugilite was mostly Amethyst and Ruby getting carried away.

But y’all have seen “Keystone Motel.”

“This will pass. She’ll eventually just burn herself out.”

Sapphire, when she’s upset, pretends to be above it all, ignores others’ emotions while denying the effects of her own, and even resorts to shaming those she loves when she’s not happy with their behavior.

She can be callous. Cold.

Sapphire is just as responsible for everything that went on with Sugilite as Ruby and Amethyst were.

Now here’s the thing. Fusions can feel like they’re one being--especially when they get used to being fused--and though they’re “a conversation” and “a relationship,” they’re also capable of functioning like a single consciousness despite that they technically can never quite be “individuals.” So I do hesitate to pick apart “what comes from which Gem” when examining Fusions’ behavior. However, much like you can analyze the traits of a child and surmise which parent they “get it from,” you can sort of do that with Fusions. But there’s another element you have to keep in mind when you do this.

A manifestation of the fusers’ influence on each other.

Guide to the Crystal Gems is the source of this tidbit--a canon source authored by Rebecca Sugar. You don’t really see the “influence” aspect discussed explicitly in the show, but this implies that Fusions aren’t just what their components are, but what they inspire in each other. What they think of each other, what they expect from each other, what they want to be together. What they bring out in each other, regardless of whether that element is usually part of the individuals.

Look at Smoky Quartz. Before they appeared, Steven and Amethyst had just had an arc with a competitive and self-deprecating tone which led directly to forming Smoky for the first time. They literally fought each other over who was the worst, had a discussion of not living up to what they were supposed to be, and aired their grievances over the proper path to improvement.

“Us worst Gems stick together, right?” “That’s why we’re the best.”

Amethyst and Steven literally formed their collective identity based on their low self-esteem and feelings of inadequacy. They play it like a big joke, of course, cracking puns and offering distractions, but when Sardonyx presses them during their second appearance in “Know Your Fusion,” Smoky heaps on the self-abuse.

“I guess zero plus zero equals zero. They say two wrongs don’t make a right--I guess I’m living proof that that’s true! I’m just one big super-wrong good-for-nothing dud with a yo-yo!”

Delivered with a smile.

Supposedly it’s a common trait of youngest children to be the comedian of the family--if you’ve spent your whole life feeling like those who came before you have won all the awards, done it all before you, and met stratospheric goals before you even found your feet, you might feel like there’s no point in performing well, so you joke about it and poke fun at everything, including yourself. Amethyst and Steven have both spent a lot of their lives feeling like the youngest child who’s a bit of a screw-up with whom everyone must be patient. Smoky doubles that feeling, and when they start to feel inadequate, out come the self-deprecating jokes.

Sugilite is more complicated because she’s a three-Gem Fusion, but I’d like to first refer to my “How Fusion Relationships Work” post and assert that Sugilite is far more a relationship of Amethyst and Garnet than she is a relationship of Amethyst, Ruby, and Sapphire. If Sugilite were to internally argue with herself the way Alexandrite did in “Fusion Cuisine,” you’d probably hear Amethyst’s and Garnet’s voices, not Ruby’s or Sapphire’s. I could be wrong, but I think Sugilite is better understood as Garnet and Amethyst’s Fusion. Therefore, to find out what comes from Sapphire and what comes from Ruby in Sugilite, it makes more sense to pick apart where their traits feed into Garnet first.

Sardonyx and Sugilite are both Garnet Fusions. And Sardonyx and Sugilite have both shown an incredible capacity for showing off for Steven. We know Pearl loves to perform, but Sardonyx seeks to impress through grace and precision, while Sugilite is about power. That is likely a strong Amethyst trait--she REALLY wants to be strong, and she thinks Garnet is this incredible pillar of strength. Amethyst’s beliefs about Garnet and desire to be strong would feed into making Sugilite the powerhouse she is.

And Amethyst also has abandonment issues.

“What about ME, huh? I had someone who was always there for ME until she started hanging out with YOU!”

What was Sugilite’s apparent main complaint?

“You left me behind!”

She was left alone with no one to perform for, no one to encourage her or make her feel cool for being strong enough to take out all those pillars.

This seems like an awful lot of Amethyst, but what about Garnet?

“We don’t need to be careful. We just need to be huge.”

Get the job done, Garnet. Who cares about Pearl’s feelings? Who cares if there might be some speed bumps? It’ll turn out with the result we need, and that’s all that really matters.

Well, that’s some Sapphire there.

That’s probably exacerbated further when all the frustration and feeling of being left out was amplified by Amethyst’s perspective, and it’s all directed at Pearl. What might Sugilite be thinking about Pearl? “She’s to blame! She took Steven away and abandoned me! She called me ‘too much’ because she’s just too little! And now she wants me to unfuse just when I’m enjoying myself! She’s probably just jealous Garnet didn’t pick her instead!”

There’s a ton of feeling in there and not a whole lot of thinking. And feeling is something Ruby does extremely well. Meaning she does a lot of it, and she doesn’t think about the past or the future. Now is all she can think about, and her incredibly important, long history with Pearl and any future consequences are beside the point in the face of all that emotion. Sugilite feels hurt and angry and vengeful now. And she has a ton of power that this little Gem Pearl wants to take from her. She won’t let it happen.

But here’s something complicated. Ruby is emotional, but she isn’t selfish. She’s almost entirely selfless. I mean that literally, too--at the beginning of her life with Sapphire, she expressed that it didn’t matter if she was broken because there are tons of her. Even more recently in her life, in “Jailbreak,” she cared about what happened to Sapphire but had no thoughts for herself.

“Did they hurt you?” “WHO CARES??”

And if you listen to her rant about Blue Diamond in “Gem Heist,” Ruby still offers an onslaught of anger that has almost nothing to do with slights against her.

“She’s a shatterer! She yelled at Sapphire, she hates fusion and love!”

Hear that? Blue Diamond had specifically threatened to shatter Ruby, but she doesn’t say “she threatened to shatter me.” She just uses general terms about her being “a shatterer” before launching right into how Blue Diamond mistreated Sapphire and hates their union. And, going back to “Keystone Motel,” it’s more of the same from Ruby: she’s angry not because Pearl personally hurt her, but because Pearl disrespected fusion. Disrespected Garnet.

“It’s FUSION, Sapphire! What’s more personal to us than fusion?”

She’s so, so angry, but it’s on behalf of their relationship, not on her own behalf. She’s not mad at Sapphire for wronging her. She’s mad at Sapphire because this is about fusion. Without fusion, Ruby doesn’t even think of herself as worth something to be mad about. But the fusion she’s contributing to? Wow, nobody better EVER say anything against THAT, or insult it for ANY reason!

So, no doubt this is magnified in Sugilite.

“I AM myself, and I’m SICK of being split up!”

Amethyst’s respect for power, Ruby’s respect for fusion partnerships, and Sapphire’s respect for outcome over process all contribute to Sugilite’s motives. But Amethyst’s sullenness over abandonment, Ruby’s single-minded emotion, and Sapphire’s callousness make those motives manifest in a destructive way.

When Garnet is just Garnet, she has effective coping mechanisms most of the time, at least when it comes to losing control. But Ruby’s EXPLOSIVE emotion is very present in Garnet--we repeatedly see her punch first and ask questions later, or break things just because she’s pissed off. Sapphire’s soft-spokenness and withdrawal from full engagement are also very present in Garnet, and we see her withholding emotion or letting her overconfidence make her stubborn. But she’s balanced, and she carries leadership without cracking, and she rarely makes her problems into other people’s problems.

But when Garnet is part of Sugilite, emotion is streaming in from Amethyst AND Ruby, and neither of those Gems likes to think outside the present. If you said Sapphire’s future vision and composure is “drowned out” by such passionate energy, you wouldn’t be far off, but I think it’s more nuanced than that: Sapphire’s traits manifest differently. Amethyst respects the heck out of Garnet, and Ruby feels like Sapphire matters far more than she does. Sapphire holds a good deal of the self-respect in Sugilite--the part of her that thinks she deserves attention, dignity, and honor. There’s still some aristocrat in her. In Sugilite, that respect is up against an overwhelming amount of self-directed belittling and inadequacy. So you get someone who knows she should be respected but feels that she doesn’t deserve it.

Ruby and Amethyst may be the source of Sugilite’s fury and pain, but without Sapphire’s cold indifference, she wouldn’t have ever posed such a threat. Some of the most brutal aspects of Sugilite may have their roots in Sapphire.

#steven universe #sugilite #fusion #su analysis #sapphire #ruby #garnet #amethyst #my su analysis #myblog

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ikonislife · 8 years

Text

My Star, My Man.

- Bobby x Reader

- Angst, Fluff

- In his quest to fix the biggest mistake of his life, Bobby discovers his true self. This new found understanding guide him to see life the way you do, leaving him falling in love with you more and more as he’s getting closer to reaching his end destination. You.

- Masterlist

- I Don’t Love You by Urban Zapaka

- Don’t be Happy by M.C the Max

- Galaxy by BolBBalgan4 (turn on cc for lyrics translation)

youtube

There was a point in time when Bobby finds the ear-piercing whistle of the trains blaring pass endearing…Endearing in a sense that it could still drowns out even the loudest, most excruciating of screams. That was of course when he was fresh on this journey and the pain of disappointment was something raw, something new. Not to say that the aching of his heart now was any less raw than it had been, callus wasn’t something heartbreak knew.

Nowadays, it seems as though his brain had finally committed the bellowing of the locomotive to memories as even that couldn’t drown out the frustrated howling of his weary mind. As he lets the weight of the long trip sunk onto the worn-out wooden bench by the now empty train track, desolation chipped away yet another corner of his jagged heart, leaving the fragment to wither away into ashes. Just a moments ago, all his hope and dream of a happy ending were shredded to bits by the wavering voices of the old couple whom were landlord to the humble home boding the address he had so excitedly scribbled on a torn piece of paper just a week ago.

“She hasn’t been back for days. I’m sorry, child. You’re too late.” The old woman had said as the old man shook his head in regret, they felt for him as they too went through many heartbreaks before finding solace and love one another.

That little piece of crumbled up paper that had held Bobby’s heart and soul, the one he had hung onto so desperately as if a lifeline guiding him back ashore was now falling out of his limp fingers as emptiness washed over everything… A feeling he, unfortunately, was all too familiar with at this point.

He had been searching for a glimpse of that smile, the familiar soft features in the passing crowds for so long he had lost counts of the weeks or was it months now. He wouldn’t want to turn into one of those insufferable parents that refer to their child in months even though it’s just as easy to say 2 years as it is 24 months.

Now typically, Bobby wouldn’t be so down on himself at every shake of the head and whisper of “No, i haven’t seen her”. Sure, he’d be weighed down with disappointment and a few sighs would accompany his heavy steps, but he’d just simply move onto the next lead. This time, it really struck quite close to his heart because he almost had you, so close he could almost pick out that delectable scent of freesia mingling with pear still lingering about the old room you had occupied. It was too much, the sadness was almost too much for his feeble heart to handle, as if a river after a long rainstorm, threatening to spill over the banks any second now, washing away everything precious along its destructive path.

He almost had you.

A sudden urge to punch himself risen within his soul the longer he remained in this old town. Had he not decided to squeeze in that last project, had he just left when his assistant bolted into his room with the most hopeful expression on his face. It was just one tiny contract, one last one before taking the much-needed time off to reunite with your lovely face. But none of that matter anymore, because here he sat all alone on this worn out wooden bench by the train track. Perhaps this very second you too were on some other worn out wooden bench at some other train track far away from here, completely unaware of the man chasing your shadow.

Despite the sorrow plaguing his heart, Bobby couldn’t help but let himself immersed in the place that had taken your breath away, at the very least, intrigued you enough to remained here for so long. As he took the long way back toward the train station, having bid adieu to the kind souls that had let him wallow in shame and in the weight of his failure on their front porch for as long as he needed, Bobby took in the gentle scenery of this old town. He thought of the wooden gate and how in the few minutes it had taken the old couple to answer his question, it had transformed significantly.

The very first moment he had laid his eyes on the home number proudly displayed right beside it, that wooden gate had held so much hope and happiness. One swing and he’d be reunited with you, just one swing and he could enter the home where his entire heart laid despite never before having been here… One swing too, was all it took for it to morph into a painful reminder of how late he was and how for so long, you had passed through it without fail, days in, days out. It was mere days, just days and you were once more out of his grasp, swallowed up by this big wide world without a trace, not even a hint for his poor broken heart to follow. That was the bitter reality, he was always far too late. There was a lesson to be learn and he had unfortunately, learned it the hardest way. Even now, even as the silent promises of finding you, of never again letting you go or letting anything get in the way of his heart chiming loud… he still did just that. He let the world and its need get in the way of reuniting and he paid dearly for it.

As his footsteps echoed into nothingness, the couple’s words replaying in his mind over and over again until the words themselves began to lose meaning. Halting just by the edge of the road with nothing to stop travelers from taking a plunge down a steep cliff but a series of wooden fencing precariously hanging on for dear life, Bobby gazed up at the calm blue sky above and took it all in. His hand traveled up to cover the crescents of his eyes shying away from the bright crisp sun, a small smile formed on his lips as he studied all the things wonderful about this place.

The image of you strolling along the coastline of this small fishing village on the way to the market projected right onto the landscape like some crazy hologram show, smile bright on your pink lips, almost as if challenging the harsh sea air bitter with salt that seems to wear everything down.

Not you.

Bobby truly believes there’s nothing in this world that could ever wear down that favorite smile of his. His steps continued, following your transparent figment of his imagination trekking right by his side, humming to that song you love so much. He had made the mistake of telling you all too bluntly exactly just how annoying it was, the incessant humming and how it had stuck in his head all those sleepless nights. All it took was one sentence, just once and from there on out, never again did he hear your soft voice dancing along with the tune. How he wished to have you sauntering right by his side humming it now, then maybe, maybe he can finally join in with the jolly tune even if the raspy of his voice would completely ruin the harmony.

Not too far down the road, a small flower field caught Bobby’s eyes and he thought of your fondness for the colorful dainty thing. His heart creaked under a heartfelt grin blooming on his lips recalling his inability to understand why you love flowers so much, as they seemed so fleeting. There was no denying its beauty yet in such short amount of time, that glamour just withered away into nothingness. He questioned so many times why you couldn’t be more like the typical girls he encountered, sharing a love for jewelry, diamonds, gems, clothes. Or for God’s sake even those stupid little stickers you seemed to put everywhere; Even once he found a dainty little orange paper bunny sticker, tucked away so far from the line of sight for anyone to see but perfectly in his view right on his work desk. His first reaction was of course anger… How could you be playing around in a place where solemnity was required of everyone, the place that had proven times and times again the pen is mightier than swords. Yet as he reached those svelte fingers to peel away at the fragile thing, suddenly his heart ached for you, for the moments of the past when money and power weren’t placed above everything else, when they weren’t the invisible wall separating you and him. So ,he left it there, a corner of the right ear missing but nevertheless still very much strongly adhere to the dark oak desk. These days, that little bunny served as a reminder of his end goal, of the smile that was still keeping his heart running. It reminded him that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and all this pain, all the sleepless aching nights were only temporary.

Any of the above would last so much longer, some even withstand the test of time but you love flowers best… You love it with all your heart and never once did he bother to give you, even just a single stem, he might never again have the chance to…

Watching the way they danced so softly with the wind against the silent only the countryside could offers, something sparked inside his heart. He was mesmerized by its fragility. Yet even as easily bruised as they were, the dainty little things stand proud against the wind, the sea, even strong enough to thrive through the cracks in the asphalt of the old road, painting the world with its vibrancy.

Flowers possessed the amazing ability to convey a feeling, to coax emotions out of the world that so cruelly cut them down for the sole purpose of pleasing itself aesthetically. They sacrificed so much to please the unpleasantness, to soothe away pain, and cheer along the happiness of the world… What do they get in return? Once those brilliant colors began to fade and no longer could they hold themselves tall, they’d get toss away without a second thought.

You’re a flower.

In many ways, you were the most dainty, fragile, and precious thing in his heart and he wanted nothing more than to protect you from the viciousness of the world. Yet your vivaciousness and fiery passion had always set his world ablaze, leaving him utterly breathless at points from how much such you could achieve.

You’re the best kind of flower…his flower.

You had been there for him since day one, since before the fancy job and the fancy title, before he could command the world to move with just words. You didn’t care that his bank account had but $11 in it or that the collar of his shirt had begun to discolor. You were there and you listened to his pain when no one else would. Even when success meant that he’d share laughter of joy with someone else, share the happiest moments of his life with people he knew for the entirety of a few weeks because his new life, his new world was one you didn’t belong to… At the end of the day, you were still there for his sorrow and not once did you ask for anything in return but to remain by his side. You were the best therapist that no money could get yet all he ever done was hurt you. He was the world that cut its own flower down, a flower that had done nothing wrong aside from being friend with a contemptible asshole.

As Bobby perused the endless swaying sea of colors, he spotted a small flower bent from the wind, barely hanging on and found a small smile bloomed on his lips. He whispered a small thank you to the dainty thing before gently ending its misery. A small leather-bound journal retrieved from his backpack, Bobby let his fingers ran through the pages filled with messy scribbles and all dated carefully. He gingerly placed the tiny flower onto the next blank page before taping it down, jotting a small “1/30, I finally understood flowers″ just beside the town name.

“My flower, when will you let me see your brilliant, exuberant self again? I miss you. I had thought I would be hugging you by the night end, but I guess I missed my chance again. What else is new right? Always ignorant of your pain and only pay attention when it’s too late. What can I do but push through and pray for a better day. I know I will have you back with me soon enough.” he jotted quickly before closing the journal to hasten toward the station as he felt the rising of emotions choking his breaths.

Loneliness was something he looked down upon, contemptuous, and misjudged of just how powerful it could be. A single tear slips down the skin of his cheek, pale from winter’s cruel breeze before the soft sweater paw wiped it away in a haste, not wanting to give into recent memories. If he succumbs to loneliness now, all he had done would be for naught. A forced smile lingers on his lips, a small attempt to scare away the sadness of his heart as the sleeve that had been shielding his hand away from the cold begins to peel backward. There sat on his boney wriest, a small silver bar so pretty in the embrace of a small chain, the sight of its engraving alone could lure out the most genuine grin, something he thought had lost the second you left. His soul slowly regained its liveliness as his thumb gently petting over the prettiest name in existent, hope painting color over the dejection in those sharp brown eyes. Once again Bobby settled back into the creaking bench as he awaited the arriving of his long ride home, recent conversation haunting his mind.

“You’re that boy…” The landlord’s voice albeit weak was slowly filling with joy as his memory permitted him to recall the familiar face. Although this face was much wearier than the one had been wearing the cheerful smile the old man had seen, he was certain Bobby was the one. The confusion played clearly on Bobby’s face as he quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

“How… You know me, sir?” He asked but was almost too scare of the answer, fearing bad reputation could lead them into lying to him.

“Yea. I’ve seen your picture in her room when we collected the rent. Honey, you remember?” He looked over to his wife, a flash of uncertainty dashed across the wrinkles around her kind eyes before they lit up so brightly it gave Bobby hope.

“Right. She had pictures of you in her room. If I remember correctly, one of it was you and her by the beach. The other one you were smiling but wasn’t looking at the camera. I asked her who you were and she said someone very important to her heart… What was that she called you?” She trained her gaze back to Bobby’s face once more, this time with the utmost carefulness in studying the handsome features and soft brown locks of hair. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s you, although you were a bit chubbier then.” A small chuckle left her lips as it did her husband’s, they both exchanged bits of concern of just how worn Bobby had looked, noting he must take care of himself if he hopes to ever make you happy again.

As the conversation grew long, more and more details about your short-lived adventure in this town painted a clear picture of everything in Bobby’s mind from when you had arrived till the day you left. They spoke fondly of your kind smile and sweet personality, even the sorrow lurking beneath the surface in the quiet moments of day. Then revealed too was your strange habit of gazing at the ocean even though times and times again the most painful sigh would leave your lips at the sight of young couples sauntering pass. They were curious, what sadness did you go through to bear such sorrow watching others’ happiness, yet you still insisted upon visiting the beach so often.

“It was once my favorite place, I go there often with my star… But my star no longer shines for me the way he used to do so I’m sad.”

It was like God given salvation for his dying heart. A smile he didn’t know he still had bloomed upon the dry lips - genuine and pure. You kept his pictures, he was still yours… he was still yours even if you had made the most devastating mistake of all - he still very much shined for you, wanting, needing to shine brighter than ever for his flower.

“My star.” He murmurs over and over. He was still in your heart.

… Yet just beneath it all, distress and the worst kind of sadness ran amok at the thought of you suffering, enduring the happiness of other just for a glimpse of what could’ve been your own.

As the sun sets over the small train station, Bobby felt the closing of yet another eventful chapter in this small saga of you and him, all his curiosity put to sleep, all aside one. You have always had a knack for photography, the countless amazing photos decking the living room of his home all by your talented eyes. These pictures the old couple had spoken off, the memories of the day they had been taken fresh in his mind as if it was just yesterday. Yet he wished with all his heart he had a chance to see them, all amazing no doubt about that.

The first had been from a happier time before money and power had changed Bobby into this person he despised. The constant pressure of being perfect, being someone that wasn’t entirely himself had always eaten away at his soul, chipping at his heart for far too long and you knew it. Just mere days before you left that Bobby had the last drop that spilled the cup, work abandoned and before he even knew what he had done, his car parked in front of your house and an invitation to the nearest beach had been sent to your phone.

He was still in his constricting suit, angry at lack of effort by his subordinate, stressed from the seemingly poisonous love life that brought him nothing but a cheating ex and a gold digger for a date. You had sat there with your toes in the sand, huddling close to his side under a big blanket hiding away from the frost of late winter, listening to him complain about anything and everything. You never said much, in fact you said nothing at all… just listen as him ranted, with that kind and understanding expression you always wore. You let him take all the frustration out on you despite deserving none of it, then offered wise words when he was ready.

His personal therapist, punching bag, and shoulder to cry on, you were everything and he took you as nothing. Oh, if you could see the guilt ravaging every fiber of his being now, would you laugh at him for finally realizing he had taken you for granted far too late? Would you laugh if you see just how pathetic he had become, all alone without a single soul to spill his heart to, not the way you did, not with his best interest in mind.

It took Bobby nearly too long to recall the memory attached to the second photograph before realizing he has absolutely no idea when you had taken it. Only then did he recalled your love of capturing candid moments of life. He never understood your fascination of capturing his unprepared moments until a few months after you left. He had found a polaroid, worn at the edge and a bit yellow from his carelessness. It was so long ago he couldn’t quite narrow down which birthday it had been. A mutual friend had slyly slipped the small thing into his pocket with a teasing wink, and the most curious whisper “you’re one lucky dude. Keep this close.” Now that he really thought about it, perhaps it had been “keep her close” but Bobby was too enthralled in another face he could no longer recalled to realized. He couldn’t remember anything except how absolutely stunning you had looked, way too beautiful for his dumb young self.

How could he had been so stupid that he couldn’t recognize what he had right by his side. You weren’t looking at the camera but rather lovingly at him. A smile delicate on your lips as you listened to him talk, probably complaining about something. Since then, candid had become his most favorite kind of photo of you. He’d spent hours searching through all the albums to pick out glimpses of you in the background. He smiled at the memories. The same smile he was now sporting letting his finger tracing out the small curves and bents of your name etched permanently onto the shiny band worn on his wrist.

“I’m coming for you, Y/n. Wait for me, okay?”

He whispered affectionately before pushing himself off the worn out wooden bench by the tracks with almost a spring to his steps as he walks off into the distant, one step closer to bringing you home. After spending all his time searching aimlessly, snatching up any clues he has about your whereabout no matter how insignificant, he was finally on the right track. You were here, and now so was he.

Another two weeks had past before a knock came upon the grand wooden doors of his office. Expecting another report or files, he spared no glance and simply raised his hand up expecting a folder to be place in his grasp. What slid between his fingers left his soul leaping from his chest. It was small, glossy on one side and much too thin to be a folder. He froze. Slowly lowering the object down onto the table, his breath hitched as if all the oxygen had just up and left the room leaving him suffocating. Another piece of paper with trails of ants liked typing neatly laid onto his desk. He whispered a small thank you to the man he now realized is the private investigator he had hired before dismissing him. This was a private moment he’d like to have on his own.

The small picture showed you basking in the bright sun of yet another small town. Your hair shorter than what he remembered but still just as shiny and amazing. Your smile although not as brilliant as he had last seen it by the beach, it was much happier than the one he had seen the last time before you disappeared.

“Y/n ah…”

He whispered desperately, hoping you’d somehow hear him through the portal of the small photograph. His attention turned back to the other piece of paper with the details of your possible whereabout. Clutching both tightly in his hands, he stormed off before his assistant could even fathom what kind of uproar was brewing in his boss’s mind currently.

There he goes, on another train but heart already there. This time heading toward a small farming town. He had heard you spoken about this town many times before but never once think twice about the significant of it. You had lamented over riding down the small river under the tunnel of cherry blossom trees before heading off to the strawberry farm for a snack or two. He had promised you he’d take you when he’s free but once again, he was always too forgetful, too busy to fulfill his side of the deal. He could see so clearly now the disappointment in your eyes you used to hide so well until times and times again the false promises continued to fall, until you could no longer hide the sadness of unfulfilled words. The disappointment that he should’ve fix instead of brushing it off as another one of your ridiculous antic. How he wishes now to hear your small little whines of disappointment when he says he’s too busy.

It’s only the 2nd week of February, off season for the small town that thrives upon the love of spring. The entire train cart empty, leaving Bobby alone with his thought. Back leaning against the wall and feet rest upon the long bench lacks of any other soul, Bobby smiles at the way your cheeks softly glow under the playful sun. You were still wearing that old yellow cardigan he bought you so long ago before he became too busy with work, before the extravagant social dinners took him away from your cheap take-out weekly nights in with Netflix. Although he had bought you better and nicer thing, you still prefer that old cheap yellow cardigan over things worth hundreds, maybe even thousands. His heart elates at the simplicity that is your present in his life. Staring out the window racing by hour after hour of greenery dormant in the cold winter, he lets dream soars free amongst the cloud as his eyes flutter shut for another nap.

“I don’t love you.”

Not really sure where to start or even how or what to say, Bobby had stood still after blurting out his reply. He let the awkward silent that used to be non-existent between the two of you sunk in for the very first time in all the years you’ve known each other. The utterance of those three simple yet powerful words from your mouth had knocked him off his game.

“I just don’t see you that way… but you probably knew that.”

He said once again, not really bothered much that tears were welling in those beautiful eyes. A small smile creeps onto those quivering dismal lips of yours as your head dropped low.

“I know.”

You breathed almost too painfully as you know none of this really hurt his heart, not in the way you wanted it to.

“I can’t give you a reason why. There’s no other reason why we can’t happen. I won’t say I’m sorry or ask you to forgive me because it is what it is. This is just what I feel… I don’t love you. I feel like if i say those things, it’d just be pitying you for falling in love with the wrong person. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love. It’s just… sometimes… falling in love is the most damaging thing you can do to yourself.”

He stood there, watched you cried but not once did his heart waver. He watched as the sleeves of your old worn out yellow cardigan got soaked in tear before you gave a weary smile, turning away. Little did he know then that this would be the last time he sees you because you knew you had to go away. You knew he didn’t love you. You knew you needed closure. You knew you needed to move on. Taking a few steps forward, you stopped then turn around to look at him one last time. He still stood there silently, so perfect in his suit and tie watching you walk away.

“Thank you.”

You mustered up your best smile before stepping off into nothingness once again. You were done. He let you go. You can move on. You hadn’t even wish for him to regret his words and run off after you. He doesn’t love you. You accepted that.

Awaken screaming your name, Bobby sits up in a haste staring around trying to decipher his surrounding. His bleeding heart calms down once the soft soothing clacking of the wheels against the track reminds him of his destination, of you. He had grew content with the sound of train in his quest to search for you. In his mind, it’s the sound of progress. Every time he hears the sound, body swaying with the cart, he knew he’s one step closer to you… Or at least eliminated one more place that doesn’t have you. Without even knowing, tears flood his eyes of the haunting memory. He didn’t love you. He really didn’t, so why did it hurt so much after the 3rd month without seeing your face. That slow burning turned intense by the end of the 4th month. When your birthday had come and gone in the most disturbing serene, peaceful way possible… The pain had swell like a volcano awaiting its eruption, unbearable. Sitting alone in his room, he sang happy birthday in tear before collapsing onto the ground over the realization of what he had done.

He loves you.

Letting his eyes close once more after checking to see there was another 45 minutes left to the journey. He knows he’d need all his strength once he gets to the station.

Breathing in the fresh air of the countryside, Bobby grins thinking of the way you fawned over this place. He can see why now. The air seems almost mellow as are the clouds sauntering above in the blue sky. Bowing to the station’s guard, he sets on his way toward the small convenient store visible in the corner of your photo. His note recounted the serendipitous meeting that had the investigator randomly stumbled upon your photo in a photo gallery of an up and coming photographer. She was known to take candid shots of people living their daily life, in their most natural unfiltered state. He pulled all the string he could to get the photographer to reveal your location but fearful of what kind of creep would stalk her subjects, the kind photographer keeps a tight lips.

It wasn’t until 2 nights later when the investigator showed up once again with Bobby in tow, hands clutching tightly onto an old album. She had gave him half an hour to convince her why she should reveal her secrets and in the private of the back room behind the main showroom, Bobby told her the cliff note version of the magnificent light you had brought into his life. Letting the photographer sifted through the old album, he hoped for the best and with a painful heart as he recalled the last time he saw you. Completely honest with the stranger about his stupidity, his pride, and his biggest mistake of letting you walk away. After the dust had settled, she stood up, thanked him for his honesty and simply said they’ll be in touch. It wasn’t even a day later when the investigator had showed up in his office with the picture personally printed by the photographer.

Standing in front of the old store now, Bobby holds up the picture to match the background perfectly. He flips the picture over to reveal a few sentences scribbled by the photographer telling him she thinks you’re no longer in this town. When she had met you, you told her you were passing by, a wanderer of some sort living out your dream of traveling. She had thought it was so odd for you to visit such a small town, albeit being popular in spring season, it wasn’t a town people would just know about without doing some research.

“She told me there’s something about these small quaint towns that’s so simple and satisfyingly perfect. People doesn’t have much but what they do, they worked hard for and appreciate it with all their heart and soul. That’s something big cities and tourist traps don’t have. Funny you had mentioned her love of taking photo when you’re not paying attention. She had only agreed on letting me take this picture if I can capture it without her knowing. To be frank, if you hadn’t mention that little bit, I would’ve never let you know where she is.”

Bobby reads the sentences out loud, he could almost hear the slight giggle in your voice when you get passionate about something. His heart smiles at how familiar you still feel even when the world had changed, he had changed. Although you were no longer here, he was told there’s someone that might know where you were heading to next. Pushing his way into the small store, he lets the small clear chime of the door bell rings out the hope he wears on his sleeves that someone here knows where the owner of his heart is.

Opening his journal one more time, he presses a small leaf into the page noting 2/12 next to it before putting it away with a soft sigh. Pulling your picture out of the overstuff backpack, he smooths out the wrinkled corners before tucking into the bottom of the cold window against the glass pane of yet another train leaving the creaky wooden bench by the tracks of the last station. He watches as the sunset on another day before whispering a goodnight to you, thumb tracing the line of your face letting the comfort of your smile lulls him to sleep.

It was 7AM when Bobby had arrived at the next station. Sitting on another wooden bench by the track, he watches the warming sun pushing its way through another morning just as he’s pushing through another day closer to you. It was much too early to be out searching for you. Perhaps closer to lunch, he’d have better luck with the hungry horde out searching for something to stuff themselves full. As the thought of lunch drifts by, his stomach growls in protest of skipping dinner last night to make the last train out.

Wandering into town, Bobby gotten himself a bag full of kimbab rolls to go as he meander to the far ends of the station. When the train had slowed down enough preparing to pull into the station, he had spotted a field full of plum blossom trees so pristine and white they put fresh snow of December to shame. Settles on a large stump underneath a dense patch of blossoms, he lets himself sink into the dreamy sight as he replenish himself with energy for another long day of searching. He wonders if you had sat here also, on this very stump and dazed off into your own world.

Often in the past he’d find you lazily gaze into the distant and he’d tease you for being so sleepy all the time. Then as the weight of the world grew, he grew frustrated at your indolent way, the lethargic expression you’d wear when you knew he was tearing his hair out from overworked, overstressed. He had taken it out on you like a fool. How he wishes now you’d be here lazily gaze into the distant with him while enjoying a snack.

He now knows, regrettably too late, you weren’t lazy nor sleepy. You were infatuated with the way nature threads itself into the busy life of people that neglects it. Forgotten that once these concrete jungles were filled with the wonders of plants and simpler things in life. You had always know how take time to appreciate the silent life in the background of your normal bustling one. If only he had learned your way sooner, then maybe he wouldn’t be so insufferable to everyone around him, maybe you’d still be here.

It’s astounding how you continue to change the way he views life even without being here. This crazy yet amazing journey you had sent him on guide him closer to the path of understanding himself. Being a young boss, he had lost that innocent of not worrying, of letting loose, of just taking a breather once in awhile. The various destinations you had set foot on, even the one you didn’t but he couldn’t leave any stone unturned, each and every one of them soothes his aching heart a bit more. They taught him to appreciate things as they come.

He had thought this quest of searching for you would be a long and treacherous one and it was. The first two town he visited, he took planes then cars, whizzing by the life that went on outside the windows, oblivious of the wonders these small towns hold. After the 2nd time met with shaking of heads and whisper of you were never there in the first place, he ran off in a fit of anger. He had ran so far he wasn’t sure if he was even still in the same town. Letting himself slumped over onto a big boulder, he had cried. Cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and it hit him, the way the ripple of waves glisten under the sun, the way the tree line mirrored so perfectly atop the peaceful lake top. For the first time in months he felt at ease. That night he decided to take the train back to the city and the rest was history.

He had sat with the night guard laughing all nights about the craziest thing that happened at the 4th town you visited. He had comforted a kid that lost his mom while pushing through the busy aisle of an open air market of a false lead not too long after. He couldn’t believe the sights, the smells, the sounds as he held onto the kid dragging him around to find his mom. He had anonymously donated a large sum to an old couple he found crying after the bank tried to seize their house as collateral for their youngest son’s mistake. Their other kids were barely making enough to support themselves, unable to help out their parents. He watched the shame in the oldest son’s eyes as he knew he would never make enough to carry his young brother’s debt.

Bobby realized that there’s much worse pain, struggle so trying he couldn’t even fathom how people make it through another day. People suffers through much tougher situations than what he goes through in his lavish life. Yet, they’re so content, so generous with what little they got. He learned to see life through your eyes, to see the goods in people, to not always get stuck on the bad things in hindsight. He had wonder how you could always smile. Even when he yelled at you, disappointed you, took his anger out on you… You were still smiling just the same and readily forgave him for everything. He had learned your simple way of life had brought you happiness beyond anything Bobby could ever even began to think of.

He had learned that he’s falling in love with you more and more everyday as he sees life the same way you do. What will he do when he reaches the end of the road and everything falls apart, he doesn’t know. For now, the journey itself is gratifying enough to carry him another day. For now, he wishes for nothing but to see you again even if it’s just for a second.

As the last piece of food travels down to its resting place, Bobby stands up and heads out into town once more. Picture in hand, he had walked all afternoon and yet no one recognize you. Heaving a small laugh, he shakes a fist to encourage himself to go on. This was nothing new. He used to get sad, dispirited every time someone says no but now, he learned to persevere. Most importantly, he learned that the only way he’ll have a bad day would be if he lets it get that way.

He pushes on and before he realizes, it’s already time for another sunset. He’d have to find a place to hang his hat soon. Quickening his steps, he hopes to check a few more places before tucking out for the night when a sound barely in the range of his hearing stops him in his track. It’s a giggle. A sweet, sweet giggle that he had thought he’d never hear again. Too afraid to turn around fearing that if he looks, the owner of the giggle would somehow change into someone else, so he stands and listens for a bit longer. There it was again, this time accompany by the voice he grew to love. He’s sure this time.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The voice says.

Tears stream down his face on their own accord as he spins around to meet your smiling face, eyes twinkles under the reddening sky. You were speaking to an older gentleman holding a bag of things in your hand, shoulders cover by that old yellow cardigan.

He found you.

You hadn’t notice him at first, still too busy chatting away, smiling but then just as you step toward the 5 ways cross road, the biggest one of this town, he stands there crying. Your polite smile drops into something feeble, gentler. Bobby was still stuck in playing the whole scene out in slow motion when you step toward him, calling his name. He reaches up to poke your face with his index half expecting for you to just dissipates with the last rays of sunshine. His small action earned a smile and a scrunch of your nose. His hand clasp tight over his mouth still gapes open from shock as he cries.

He found you.

You both stand there, perfectly in the center of the biggest intersection of town staring at each other. It wasn’t until a small delivery scooter zooms past cussing at both of you for being stupid enough to stand in the middle of the intersection that he snaps out of his daydream with a chuckle. Pulling on his arm, you drag him to the safety of a sidewalk before he finally speaks.

“Y/n… I found you.”

Sitting down by the edge of an empty bridge that hovers over the river that runs through the far side of town now, you both share a content silent. It’s so different than the last time you had share with him a moment of quietness. You stare at the boy you had left behind, see the slight change in the way he smiles, the way his eyes gaze upon the small fish fighting the current. It’s almost as though he’s seeing what you’re seeing. Although unsure why, your heart is happy at the possibility.

“How are you?” You break the silent, fearing it’d turn sour if you let it goes any longer. Bobby was never one to find solace in the peaceful quiet nooks of life.

“Better.”

He answers almost too quick to which you answer with a small hum.

“I mean, I understand things about myself now that I’d never dream of a year ago.” He laughs nervously, debating whether it’s too much to tell you he’s a changed man. “I think I finally understand you better.”

“That’s good. I always thought I come off as a little kooky in your eyes.”

You smile and it does something to his heart. The same something that could be liken to quenching the thirst of a wilting plant. Your heart shaken, clearly registering how much your simple smile affects his heart. The same shaken that could be liken to a small tremble of the Earth.

“You came this far, I’m assuming you have things you want to say?”

“I honestly don’t know where to start.” He regrets not planning this out better. “I had set out with the simple goal of finding you. I didn’t know for what or if you really wanted me to or not but… I wanted it.”

You whisper a sadden “oh” in response. You’re happy to see him, that much you know. Yet there’s another part of your heart that screams the cold words he had said, the icy stares he gave… He broke your heart but you never really blamed him for it. It wasn’t his fault you fell for the impossible man. You had half hoped he’d find you but what’s the point to go back to the days of hiding your feelings. Even now, sitting here, he’s still impossible. Where’s the crisp suit and impeccably styled hair? Where’s the cold Bobby that only smile around you? This boy here, he’s not Bobby but he’s still is, very much so. It’s like the inner child you had longed for finally broke free. You hadn’t seen Bobby so relax since the first day he closed the doors of that enormously lonely office. Yet here he sits, not barking order, not fidgeting even a little bit over just sitting here doing nothing. He wears a pair of black ripped jeans, simple white t-shirt hiding under a thick grey hoodie, thumbs hanging precariously on the straps of his overstuffed backpack, legs dangling over the side of the bridge, swinging back and forth, pleased with the scenery.

“You know what’s surprising? Somehow in this whirlwind crazy road trip of mine, I found myself while searching for you.”

The most luminescent glint of happiness shines in his kind eyes as he recalls the people he met, the things he done, the places he visits. He talks about the feeling of facing the impossible of life and the joy of just helping someone out. Even though in the grand scale of life, his action probably didn’t matter much but to that person, he could feel the way his small gesture changed the way they see life. How eventually it became his mission to help the people he meets see joy in living another day. You had listened and he had talked all the way until the darkness washes over the town. Getting up now, he walks close by still fearing you’re just a ghost that would vanish if he breaches some set radius. There’s still so much he needs to say, so much more and he suspects you have a few things of your own. Panic stricken over the soft smile as he watched you walked off, unsure of what to do. Was he crossing the line speaking to you as if no time had passed, as if he hadn’t hurt you in the worst way possible? He could feel the tears pricking before you turned around humming the softest “you comin’?”, easing all the fear in his heart away like the many dawn he had watched breaking the cold of night away. Staring at your hair swaying gently with each step, he wishes he could reach out and laces his fingers through the strands just as he did so many times before.

“Sometimes I wonder why love is so hard. I see people break up over and over again and I thought, does this sadness ever end? How do I cope with these things?”

He speaks with an air of nonchalant, as if he knows the answer but needed for someone else to say it. Crickets had begun to sing in the field of corn lining the small road leading back to your temporary home. He soaks in the sweetness of the air and the crisp note of something that’s so unique to the countryside.

“It’ll go away after a while.” You sigh, almost letting your bleeding heart spills into the air. “the pain, the tears… It goes away, you know. People learn eventually that letting go because sometimes that’s love.” How stupid were you to think he wouldn’t bring this up as you fight the tear and the wounds he reopened just by facing you. Your slight sadness not miss by the attentive boy following your steps closely. He wishes he could just reach out and pull you into his arm and rubs your back gingerly until he dispels all your pain.

“I thought that it’ll be alright if I can just find you, that I’ll have time to tell you this but…” You peek over to see him smile at the sky above, eyes forlorn, longing to join the stars blinking above. “… I realize my time is running out soon so. Y/n?”

His handsome features face you with that unsettling calmness that you had the day you confessed to him. You were calm because you knew the answer you were expecting, is it the same for him? Once he was sure your attention completely his, he smiles but somehow it doesn’t ease your unnerving heart as it used to.

“I love you.”

Your feet stop themselves as your eyes widen at the utterance of those three simple yet powerful words. The rush of the crush that turned into first love blinded you in a flood of emotions. All the ones you hidden and all the ones that were rejected. Glimpses of happy time, glimpses of watching him with someone else, glimpses of his cold expression that day gush out like a broken dam drowning you. In the complete silent of the countryside night, Bobby told you he loves you.

“You can’t do that, Bobby. You can’t just show up one day and say you love me… No.”

Your stammer of confusion was shut down by another smile, this one perhaps a bit sadder than the last.

“Don’t say anything for now… It’s one last favor I want to ask of you, just listen like you used to.”

You nod slowly and he continues to walk prompting you to take the lead as he has no idea where his feet are carrying him to.

“Don’t be happy. It sounds stupid doesn’t it? How selfish of me.” He laughs, not because the words that was coming out of his lips were funny nor did you told a joke. He laughs, just to laugh away how much this hurt. “I don’t want you to be happy. The second you try to be happy again then I know you had forgotten about me. For a while now it hurt to just breathe knowing you were out there somewhere hurt over something I said stupidly and carelessly. It’s been hell living because I realized too late that I was too busy to know my own heart.”

He continues to walk, following your steps closely, eyes fixate on the old oversized yellow cardigan he bought you. You had already lost control of your tear by this point, but the sobs haven’t yet settled in. You let the tear flows freely as you can feel his gaze on you, watching your every move. If you wipe your eyes, he’d know.

“Don’t love, Y/n. If it’s not me who can be with you till the end of time, please… Don’t love. I know I sound so incredibly stupid, changing my mind like a fool. I turned you away then to only chase after you. Even now, I’m not even sure if I should be doing this… I told you to find someone better, someone good but now, my heart ache at my own words. I’m trying so hard to hold on. If I could,”

His words lost in his throat as the sobs he suppressed begins to sting its way out chasing your own to do the same.

“If I could somehow remember that place, that time I lost you… Maybe, do you…” He laughs again, dejection weaves itself into every breath he heaves heavily as if he already knows what you’d say, “Do you think I could find us again like I did this afternoon?”

As if the sky had answered your prayer, the softest touches of rain tickle your skin, hiding the pearls welling in your eyes so perfectly. You spin around to find Bobby had stopped, just a few feet away from where you stand. You let yourself sigh the last bit of your love away.

“We never were, Bobby. I don’t think you can find someone in a place that never existed.”

As if the cloud he loves had answered his prayer, the heavy downpour hides his gasp for air and the sobs so perfectly with its pitter patter. He had turned away with a sadden smile just as you did at the beginning of it all, whispering a small thank you before walking away. Your mind races thousands of miles, deciding if you should let him know it’s okay if he wants to continue searching for you but in the end, no voice came out, and your feet didn’t move. You stand there watching him disappearing into the night knowing this might be the very last time you’ll see him ever again.

It’s 3AM now and you’re no closer to dreamland than you were standing in the rain watching Bobby go. Tossing in your bed, you couldn’t get the smile and the way his breathless “I found you” rings out so endearingly against the loneliness of your own journey. His genuine happiness tugs hard at your heart. Pushing sleep off, you kick off the cover to your warm bed heading out to the front porch to watch the cleansing of another day. Tomorrow, the Earth will twinkle and shine in the light of the sun as if no pain had happened the day before. Everything will continue.

You creak the door open and take in a breath of the cold air wafting around the wide-open space. You stare at that road you know would lead to Bobby before letting your eyes falter to the wooden panes of the old porch debating the rise and fall of letting yourself succumb to the calling of his heart. Under the soft glow of the light shining through the doorway, you spot a small object neatly laid like a present. There it was. The leather-bound journal you had momentarily laid eyes upon earlier when Bobby dug through his backpack searching for his wallet. Faster than light, you pick up the damp book hoping the rain hadn’t damage it too much before retreating back to warmth of cracking fireplace in the living room.

The very first page is mostly blank, water had already permeated through the corner of the page leaving it wrinkles. You huff and puff, hoping to dry out the smearing inks. He had put too much work into this for you to let it rot and waste away in the carelessness of your heart. In the middle of the page however, that writing… You’d recognize that writing anywhere.

“To my beautiful Y/n” It says.

It’s only the first page and he already have you sinking in heartache. This was going to be a long read. To your surprise, there isn’t much writing as there is a mishmash of trinkets illustrating his long journey. The very first entry dated 3/19 with nothing else except for an old picture of you and him in high school. It was a polaroid taken just before his birthday dinner sophomore year. Your finger traces out the small line of that smile and those loving crescent eyes. Just like the first, entries after entries dated carefully and flourishes with details as he got comfortable with admitting his feelings down onto paper. Some have leaf taped on them, some dried up flowers, others a small doodle or a heartfelt line if he’s having a particularly bad day. Your aching soul smiles at the simple phrases, messages sent by his soul. “i miss you” and “I love you” litter the pages along with heartfelt sentiments that transcend any words or things of this realm. You could feel yourself melt under the intensity of his love. You let your heart soar along his at the small picture of the cloud floating by his train cart then cry at the details of his profound sadness over losing a few pages of the journal one careless drunken night. Soon an hour had past and you’re finally caught up with the last entry dating 2/13.

In the middle of the page, a fresh innocently white plum blossom he had picked up while having lunch by the station. A small doodle of what supposed to be a cat right next to the soft petals with the small caption “I saw a cute cat today. He lets me pet him after eating 3 of my kimbab pieces.” The first genuine laugh you have in over a year was over a stupid doodle of a cat that managed to con him for food by being cute.

This page, unlike many before it, is fill with lines upon lines of writing so much so that he almost ran out of space.

“I know it was stupid to ask you not to love. I just wanted to hear myself say it at least once before I could let you go. I thought if you struggled as much as I did, couldn’t we just reconnect? I know it’s selfish. I know it’s not healthy, wrong even to hold onto things that should be let go but I had to… I needed to see you one last time. I love you. I wish I have more time to say it properly but alas, I was already racing against the hands of the clock the second I set out on this journey. Someday, I know a very good person will come along and take you away. Honestly, as I’m writing this, I’m already envious of whoever that is. He’d get to see your amazing smile every day, hear your silly jokes, bask in your sunshine, sway along to the small songs you hum. Most of all, he gets to love you knowing you love him too. He gets to miss you, and have you miss him. I love you. I know no matter how much I say those three words now that it wouldn’t matter. Now that I can no longer hear your voice or have the privilege of knowing you love me … I’m lost.

Don’t be sad. It’s okay, I will be okay eventually. I just hope you’ll be able to say it again soon with the person that will make you happy. Laugh and be happy. I will look at our love as if it’s just put on hold… at least until I can make sense of everything. I hope you’re okay with that. I made the biggest mistake of my life and now I will live with the consequences of it. I want you to know that you had guide me through this insane journey of self-discovering and I want to thank you for that. I love you.”

Ink smears in places you know the rain hadn’t kiss. His heart poured out onto a few simple lines that you couldn’t help but unlock the cage of your heart, letting it free.

Once more Bobby makes acquaintance with another worn out wooden bench by the train tracks… The very last time he’ll rest his weary soul on one. Even though there was no stopping the tears silently rolling down his cheeks, the only thing offering him a bit of warmth on this cold lonely night, Bobby feels light. He found you, he really did and even if it was only for a few hours, the closure he had been chasing finally smiled down on him. He can finally rest, 11 months the journey had gone on for. The piercing cold of winter and the pouring rain sending yet another shiver down his spine for his damp jacket did naught to stop it.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Bobby let himself shrinks in hope of warmth and in hope of relieving this feeling of being so small against this big, big world. As a billow of fog leaving his lips, before he could lose all hope of surviving the night, like dawn breaking, a flash of that old yellow cardigan wraps around his freezing body with the force of thousand suns. For a second he was hopeful, but before his heart could once more drag him down a path of self-destruction, Bobby laughs at his own delirium, reminding himself once more that he was truly alone. This warmth spreading through his body, the soft hand petting color gently back into his skin? They’re all fake, nothing but a last-ditch attempt to hold onto a happier time. Yet the weight of the old leather journal pressing into his chest, it feels so real… So, so real that he begins to accept the comforting scent of the old yellow cardigan.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” It was only now that he sees the pair of feet standing before him, feeling the gentle heat lingering from your body emanating through the woven threads of the old cardigan.

“Read.”

There you are, standing in front of him panting hard, hand pressing onto your chest as if soothing away the burns in your lungs. He watches as your chest rise and fall rapidly, no closer to calming down your ragged breath. He thought about jumping to you, to comfort you but you repeat yourself, insisting once more.

“Read”

“What?” He gasps, stuns by your strange action but nonetheless compliant as his fingers grip tightly the worn-out cover of the book.

“Just read.”

Finally comprehending your cracking sentence, his hands flip through the pages, soaking in the familiarity he thought he would never again have the chance to see. Flipping fast through the page, his eyes searches for any differences in the entries. Pages pass before he lands on the date 02/14 in pink ink, a small heart in place of a normal ending period mark. Immediately, he recognizes the small piece of memory you taped onto the page - an old yellow piece of yarn matching the old yellow cardigan draping over his cold shoulders. Staring back up at your still redden face, whipped till painful by the gushing wind and rain, he sees something he didn’t see earlier… A small glint of hope behind your fluttering lashes behind those beautiful eyes. Returning his attention to the page, he lets himself look at the small lines of writing just below the piece of yarn, the small lines that he was too afraid to look at before now.

“You found me.

I love you, Bobby.”

You speak the words of your heart out loud, just as his lips mumble softly the words written on the page. Almost immediately he throws the journal onto the bench rushing forward to pull your shivering body into a hug so tight, he could feel his broken pieces healing. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the joy in his tears as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck whispering “I love you” over and over until he chokes on his tears. Shushing his pain away, you rub softly on the broad shoulder and strong back you wouldn’t mind supporting just like this for the rest of your life.

Parting way, he gazes into your eyes deeply and swear he could see universe shining from them. One peck, then two. Came three before he presses a lingering kiss on those lips he had wanted to touch with his own covetous ones all day long. Holding on tighter, you let him works you into a stupor before feeling his tongue meeting yours, gingerly playing chase. You giggle at the strange feeling but let him deepen the kiss into something fervent. You push him away for air only to have him crashing back with stronger desire and passion than before. Letting his fever wears itself out, you comb your fingers gingerly through his dampen hair, earning a soft satisfying moan from Bobby.

“Stay with me tonight?” You murmur against his lips, not really wanting to part way with them as your arms tighten their hold on him. “I don’t want you out here in the cold all alone. Come back to my place.”

“Only if you come home with me tomorrow.” He entangles his svelte fingers of his right hand into your hair supporting your head as he pushes his lips forward while the left tracing the dip of your spine down to the small of your back, flushing you impossibly close against his firm chest.

“Only if you promise to continue filling out the journal for me.” You tiptoe to land another soft kiss to his lips, eliciting a sweet smile.

“Only if you promise to be there when I fill them out.” He pecks your cheeks then nose, chuckling brightly when you scrunch your face up in protest of the wet kisses. Fervidity of the sudden love only burn brighter the longer you remain in his arm as he pulls you in for another passionate kiss.

His lips frown at the loss of you when you slowly back away from his needy body, craving for your scent, wanting to share the heat of your love. He looks at you with confusion and pain before your smile soothes it all away. Now with curiosity filling up his heart, he stares, watching your movement closely as it’s seems you’re pulling the long sleeve of your sweater up to reveal your hand. The most amazing smile graces you with its present the moment he realizes what you were doing. Hanging daintily on your wrist a small chain bracelet with a shiny silver bar etched with his name.

“You still have it.” He exclaims, pulling the sleeve of his own jacket away to show the matching one on his wrist.

“I never took it off.” You reply with a playful grin on your lips.

His hands near teleport over to cup both your cheek, crashing his lips messily into yours nearing topple you over onto the bench. You laugh at his silliness, something you’ve never gotten used to but had always love. He returns a giggle, glad it was right once more for him to be happy standing next to you.

“I love you, Bobby. I miss you so much.” You whisper against his blushing cheek, pressing a big kiss onto the soft burning skin.

“I miss you too, baby. You don’t even know how much I love you.” he returns the sentiment, nearly crushing your bones with his hug.

It might’ve started out as a best friend bracelet, something of a false couple item to ward off unwanted attention from girls. Those tokens of platonic love were now blooming in full like the buds of flowers bursting through with life after a long dormant winter holding onto to the hope of spring. The small simple bracelets with each other names etched on them had held you both over the long lonely winter of your hearts. Now, like a beacon of hope, they guide your love back to each other.

“I was hoping to see some stars tonight… Looks like it’s not happening with all this rain.” Bobby whispers softly against your cheek, lips gently pull back from a soft peck. The slight frown of his mouth combines with the pouty plump lower lip send you into a drunken haze. How could this be the same man, haughty under the boss’s suit you knew just before you left.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I can see at least one.” You quip, returning his kiss as his eyebrows furrow incredulously, eyes staring up at the sky full of dark clouds. He cranes his neck to the best of his ability to figure out where on Earth are you looking to see this star, completely missing your focus stare in his handsome visage.

“The brightest one of them all is standing right here in front of me.” You smirk playfully before reaching out for his hand, pulling him along, his laugh soundly rings out pushing away any last cloud of lingering sadness of the past.

The star of your night is back in your arms illuminating your life with love while the watchful satellite of his life is back into orbit doting over his every move. If someone had told either of you to believe in the power of love just a year ago, you both would’ve laugh in their face but now embracing the dawn of February 14th together on the platform of the train station, maybe it’s not so crazy after all to believe in a little bit of Cupid’s magic. You can only hope this bit of magic will last till the end of time but somehow you know even without it, you’ll both be fine.

#ikon #ikon bobby #ikon scenarios #kim jiwon #jiwon scenarios #bobby scenarios

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trashookie-blog · 6 years

Text

sea

because the dawn right before the sun rises is the darkest

people always say that the world started because of a massive destruction, the epitome of chaos that suddenly became nothing and everything all at once. the birth of a star. the death of another. the creation of a universe. the destruction of a galaxy. others have different minds, different hearts. they say that a godly force came to existence, and filled the void with a bloom of creation that sprung out of their powers. they mention gods, angels, they mention divine figures with inexplicable power and the birth of grace. but for yoongi, his world wasn’t made until the moment where his chubby four year old fingers brushed across the dusty keys of a piano, letting it press with slight force to produce a sudden ting! and just like that, yoongi fell in love with the brown instrument that created the rawest, most beautiful, and utterly painful pieces that he could ever make. and yet, it wasn’t until he met him, that he realized the truth about his world. his world might have begun with his piano, but it became complete with six other boys who were just as broken as he was. he truly began to find a sliver of hope, the beginnings of happiness, with one of those boys, who had sparkling eyes and wide smiles that made him realize just how much he was missing. that made him realize just how beautiful the sea truly was.

. his world began with the piano, but ended with that boy.

when people asked about his first love, he would always stare off into space, remembering the feel beneath his fingers, the smooth caresses he made on the surface. he remembered the sounds he could produce with just those simple touches, how quiet whispers or loud screams could make his heart thump loudly against his chest, as if trying to escape and unite once and for all. when people asked about his first love, yoongi would always remember the piano that laid in the corner of his mind. people would think he was joking, but his words would never falter. the piano had become his first love.

(until he came along)

it was when he was ten that he began to focus more, to press just a bit softer, to let the music guide him. before, he had always used the piano as a source of destress. he would let his hands fall harshly upon the white, although slightly old and stained, keys, letting out all his anger and sadness and pure misery that threatened to invade even the most invisible edges of his soul. he would use the piano for his own twisted benefit, and it wasn’t until years later that he understood the mistakes he had done. that was the first time he sat down, calmly lifted the cover off the keys, and let his scarred hands play pieces filled with endless desperation, unbridled passion, voiceless screams of ardor, silent sounds of weeping, and always, always just a touch of waves, as if an ocean were calling him from afar. ever since, he always let the piano show him the way. he let the music he made show him the path towards the sky. he let the melodies and notes push him slightly closer towards the dreams that he knew were out of his grasp. he let it show him and he let it take him to the end of the world. he let the piano guide him home.

the music wasn’t always loud. sometimes it was quiet. sometimes you had to strain your ears, open your mind, to be able to hear even just a single sound. just a single wave.

he couldn’t always play. he knew, of course he knew, that there are some people out there, prodigies they called them, that could play you melodies that you could feel coursing through your veins, melodies that would plague your mind for the rest of your time, melodies that told stories and tragedies about heroes and villains, melodies that told you everything you yearned to hear, everything you have ever wanted. he knew this. he despised this. he despised those perfect people who would never get frustrated with their links to the public, with those pianos with those violins with those guitars with those drums. he utterly hated how they could just, at any time, place their hands upon those instruments and just let the world hear uniqueness laced with tones of something special. he despised them. and even though he would never admit it, he was jealous. the piano and him, they didn’t always worked out. just like a first love, it was so utterly beautiful and mesmerizing for as long as it could last, but once it broke, you would never forget that pain and disaster that formed in the depths of your mind. sometimes, he just couldn’t play. no matter how many times he placed his hands in the correct order, no matter how many times he tried again, no matter how many times he almost succeeded, somedays, he just couldn’t play. he would slam his hands on the keys, flinching at the loud screams it let out, and he would run away.

the greatest betrayal he ever felt was when the piano denied his love. everything would turn into a storm then.

for jungkook, art was something that no one could ever take away from him. the paintbrushes felt like just another limb against his skin, the paint that stained his clothes was just like another barrier formed between him and the cruel world. the canvases he would destroy or complete became snapshots of his life, small portions of dreams he always desired to achieve. for jungkook, art was the one thing he knew that would never leave him. he knew it the moment his fingers would get smeared with colors, or the moments when his face would split into a full grin at seeing the final piece that laid in front of his eyes. flawed, heavily scattered with imperfections, but still his. for him, jungkook would never deny the fact that painting is the one thing that made him want to begin. begin to do, to be, to make. but it wasn’t until he met him, that he truly began.

but time is always cruel

he was in first grade when he first won a medal for the best drawing in his class. he remembered running back home, giddily showing his parents his medal, and being pampered with kisses, and smothered with hugs. he remembered smiling proudly at his piece, a slightly crumbled paper that was painfully colorful. depicting nothing more than the sun and the never ending sea. he had hung up that painting, with the help of his mom, and everyday, he would stare upon that drawing, and gain courage to keep going. to keep drawing. to keep creating. yet, he knew that his true desire wasn’t to win the medal, nor to receive recognition, nor to see the pride in his parents eyes, no. his true desire was to visit that sea.

the sea is wild. the sea is brave. the sea is dangerous. the sea is satisfaction. the sea is their home.

he would sometimes stare at his drawings, gazing intently for seconds, minutes, hours. he would just gaze and gaze, trying to see what it is he is trying to find. as much as he tried to deny it, to scoff and say that it is not true, he always knew the answer. the sea was somehow always in his paintings. perhaps in the shade of the sky, or the figures on the ground, or the shape of the waves on the landscape. the sea, somehow, always managed to find its way upon his life. and strangely enough, he was okay with it.

but he wasn’t always okay. he realized this on the nights were his mind would be clogged up with too many pictures, too many faces, too many things that would keep his eyes open and his heart beating rapidly. and nothing, not even carbon pencils or oils could capture the things that his mind would make. the things that not even the sea in front of him could make him forget.

when jungkook turned seventeen, he left his house. and in the corners of a basement, inside a slightly broken cardboard box, was the painting of the sea that once made him believe again.

he might have left the painting that started everything, but he carried the image of that sea in his mind. engraved in his mind, heart.

but sometimes there was thunder.

they first met at a music store. just a fleeting moment. an insignificant meeting had they both been different. but it was anything but insignificant. .

jungkook sat by one of the more simple pianos, a little wooden beauty that made his heart ache when he tried to play it. he had always wanted to learn, but his parents had made him choose. painting or piano. his heart split for both, but as much as he wanted to learn to grace those keys with his own personal touch of music, painting had already been with him. there wasn’t really much choice. and now, as he sat upon this piano, his hands felt awkward as he tried to play a simple do re mi, but the anxious shaking in his fingers would not cease, and so he just kept playing the same note over and over, humming slightly under his breath to make it sound better, and to calm his nerves. that is, until someone sat next to him, placed their hands on the piano, and showed him true music that left him breathless.

it is said that faith has no predestined path. that destiny is unreliable, and that the future is unwritten. but for them, it was always meant to be. (even if it didn’t last) .

yoongi was never the person that would approach another. unless it was an emergency, and even then he hesitated, he would never speak to a stranger. but for some reason, seeing him sitting alone by that piano, hands desperately trying to find a tune that fits, but failing miserably, made his feet move without his permission. before he knew it, he was closer to the boy, a young man perhaps a few years younger than him, and just watched him from behind. his hands were shaking, yoongi could see from where he was standing. not only that, but he could also see the flecks of paint that lingered in the younger’s clothes. a litany of blues, reds, and greens that covered his jeans and white shirt, although by this point, it shouldn’t even be considered a white shirt anymore. but what finally made him move was the soft sounds that the other was making. short, sweet, quiet hums that filled the emptiness that yoongi never knew was missing. .

“my name is jungkook.” “i’m yoongi.” .

that was just the first of many more times where they would meet. although neither actually said anything, their eyes spoke a thousand words. again. .

they kept meeting by the same piano, letting their hands roam the keys. laughing slightly when jungkook messed up, staring widely when yoongi played an intricate piece. they kept meeting by the same piano. sometimes, neither would say anything, knowing that words were not enough to convey what they wanted to say. and that is why jungkook always brought his sketchbook and some pencils, and why yoongi was always willing to press those keys again. just so that they could talk without actually speaking. but they didn’t need to. not when they had the piano and drawings. .

neither of them knew it, but that was just the beginning of something much bigger. more beautiful. more tragic. .

eventually, they knew that this day would come. they had just been waiting for the day when everything would end. they were kicked out of the store a week later. .

they didn’t stop seeing each other. yoongi and jungkook, like the sea and shore, always kept meeting. they found another shop that had slightly less pianos, but they were easily attracted to a simple black one. elegant, mysterious. like the night. they continued playing together, and sometimes, jungkook would even teach yoongi to draw so long as yoongi didn’t lose patience with him. and he never did. so they stayed that way. .

they stayed that way. for good or for worse. .

the more days that passed, the closer they got. and the closer that they got, the more that the feelings inside their chests began to rise. fear, anxiousness, eagerness, hope. at the new shop that they were at, they met another boy, older than both. seokjin was his name, and he played the guitar. but what he really liked, he whispered to them as if confessing a secret, is to take pictures. and it was true. seokjin always took a polaroid camera wherever he went. he took pictures of the simple pleasures of life, getting your name spelled correctly at a coffee shop, finding an old book at a library, seeing a beautiful flower in a barren field. he always took pictures. and it wasn’t until one day, jungkook saw a polaroid filled with four boys, two tall and two somewhat short, that he voiced his question to seokjin. “ah, them,” seokjin smiled as he responded, “they are my family.” and that was how jungkook and yoongi met the others. and that was the start of something new. .

one step closer to the sea. .

it was almost as if they had always belonged together. once all seven boys met, they all immediately knew that they had just found

what was missing. there was namjoon, a genius whose talents laid undiscovered to everyone. and next to namjoon you would always find taehyung, a lost boy who had made many mistakes, and who began to regain his smile slowly, little by little. jimin was the smallest of them, but also the kindest, with a heart of gold, and eyes that made you happy just to see them. hoseok was always with jimin, since they had both been to the same hospital, but hoseok, he was the sun with his brilliant smile and bright personality. and seokjin, well, he was the glue that brought everyone together. his guitar could always be heard whenever they met, slight strums of the strings that mirrored the smile he would always carry at seeing them all together. meeting those five boys was what jungkook and yoongi needed to truly begin to move on. to move on from the past. and to move to their present next. .

they all knew that things were going to change. and they did. but somehow, they wished everything would have stayed the same. maybe then he would have lived.

yoongi kept teaching jungkook to play the piano, just as how jungkook tried, and failed miserably, to teach yoongi how to draw. their days together were always a relief, an escape from the world awaiting for them outside. but here, together, they did not have to worry about anything. and yet, why is that now, when they are together, their hearts start to beat faster, and they get lost in each other’s eyes? .

“i never want to leave you.” “i never want you to leave me.” .

they did end up going to sea. all seven of them, after buying so much wasteful crap, boarded namjoon’s red pick up truck, and parted towards the place they had always wanted to see. jungkook couldn’t fight the smile off his face, knowing that he will finally see his first painting come to life. and yoongi. yoongi couldn’t care less for the sea, but seeing jungkook’s face lit up and covered with a beautiful grin, he couldn’t help but to softly smile to himself, and thank the sea for this mesmerizing sight. .

the sea was beautiful. for all of them, it was a new memory to be engraved in themselves until the end of their days. they played around, taehyung and namjoon building sand castles, while jimin and hoseok were running in the waves. jungkook and yoongi were sitting close together in the sand, watching the sun start to set in a beautiful landscape by the sea. and jin, he was taking pictures of everything he could see. in that moment, everything was so utterly perfect, that just one wrong move could have disrupted everything. but they stayed that way, together, until the sun would greet them once again. .

the seven of them sat together by a bonfire, watching the flames rise gently as the ashes flew through the air. no words were spoken that night, except for the soft lulling of seokjin’s guitar as its melody carried its way through the wind. yoongi, although he tried fo fight it, tried to fight his feelings, tried to fight against himself, could no longer do so. he simply surrendered to jungkook and to everything he made him felt. he wrapped his arm around the youngest, and something fluttered inside his chest when jungkook simply got closer to him. but, he was scared. yoongi, the man who always acted cold and like nothing bothered him, was scared. and he was simply scared of a love that was meant to save him. yet, he still let jungkook stay by his side, because if he could have nothing more, then at least he was able to have this. .

they were all asleep. all except for jungkook. he laid next to yoongi, feeling the coldness begin to seep through their thin blankets as the fire died down, and all that was left were the bright stars up ahead, staring down at them from infinity. jungkook didn’t even try closing his eyes, knowing it was just a futile attempt, and instead, just stayed wide open, gazing at everything he could see with the light of the moon and stars. he turned to his side gently, careful to not stir yoongi, and watched the other man as he breathed in softly. yoongi was naturally beautiful, jungkook was well aware of that. he knew that yoongi’s pale skin and mysterious eyes and rare smiles were a thing of beauty. but under the moonlight, he looked like a star itself. for a moment, as he listened to the breathing of those around him, and the feel of arms around his torso, he felt nothing but peace. he was happy, and he never wanted to leave the sea. .

they all wanted to stay in that moment, forever young. forever by the sea. together. .

yoongi eventually waked up, noticing that the sky was still dark, before startled by the scared noises that jungkook was making. for a second, all he could do was watch as the younger writhed underneath the blanket, his face contorted as if in pain. and just as fast, he began to shake the other, trying to bring him back from that land of nightmares. he shook and shook the other, and called out his name as softly as he could as to not wake the others. and with a gasp, jungkook opened his startled eyes, and breathed quickly. too quickly. “i’m here. it’s okay. i’m here, kookie.” yoongi whispered into the other as he slowly gathered the younger in his arms, holding him as he began to quietly cry, tears slipping from his eyes unnoticed. yoongi rocked the younger gently, never letting go of him as jungkook began to slowly calm down. eventually, when jungkook was able to breathe properly, they decided to take a walk against the shoreline. .

neither knew it, but in that moment, everything would change forever. .

they walked together, close but not close enough, feeling the sand underneath their feet and the soft breeze of the waves. the moonlight shone on them, letting them see in the vast darkness in front of them. “they’re nightmares,” jungkook broke the silence. and yoongi let him talk. let him get everything off his chest, and just let him become slightly closer. “i’ve been getting them for as long as i can remember. painting helps a bit, but they never go away.” yoongi just took those words in, a part inside his mind told him, he’s just like us. and yoongi knew it. and yoongi felt just another bit closer to jungkook. yoongi abruptly said, “let me help you.” “how?” “like this.” and that was the first time they kissed, under the moon, by the side of the faithful sea. .

but why is it that at our happiest moments, we run away? why is it that at our happiest moments, we become unhappy?

true to his word, yoongi did try to help jungkook. after leaving the sea, the seven of them didn’t fall apart. but they also didn’t meet as often as they wanted. jimin had another relapse, and so he went back into the hospital, with hoseok by his side. namjoon began to work at a tattoo parlor, and taehyung went from every corner of the earth to the edge of the universe, everywhere at once. seokjin, they still saw him at the music store sometimes, but something had changed. and although he never admitted it, it was clear in his eyes that he was facing something. but he didn’t want help. he wanted to fight this alone. and perhaps the biggest mistake they all made was to let him. .

but jungkook and yoongi, they didn’t stop seeing each other. the opposite actually, jungkook began to make himself at home at yoongi’s apartment, finding solace in the brown piano that yoongi owned, and all the various types of music that the older made. he always found it utterly beautiful the way yoongi’s fingers would move swiftly across the piano, as if greeting an old friend after departing. he would sit next to yoongi, and although he never saw it, he knew that a blind smile always graced his lips whenever he heard a new melody, a new tune, a new pathway to yoongi’s very own soul. and yoongi himself was blown away by the very own existence of jungkook. there were moments where the younger simply laid on the sofa, knees crossed, and drew away all of his thoughts, all of his worries and feelings. he would bare himself against those blank pages, vulnerable, and yoongi couldn’t find the right word to describe what he felt in those moments, but he knew for certain what some of those feelings were. he was in love. they were in love. .

not everything was perfect. of course, nothing in this world is perfect. but they still tried to make it work. nights were always the worst. for jungkook, his nightmares never left him. he still dreamt of crawling shadows, of disgusting humanoid creatures, of sickly dead faces and harsh bitter voices. he still dreamt of all of his horrors and fears that he has dreamt since he was just a kid, combined in the epitome of everything he has always wanted to beat. but yoongi’s arms would always tightened when he woke drenched in sweat from those dreams, his heart running a never ending race, and he would forget all about those dreams, because all he could feel was yoongi yoongi yoongi. his music, his hands, his lips, just yoongi. and for yoongi, as much as he wanted to show jungkook that he was a good person, he couldn’t hide his demons forever. there were some nights were he would crawl out of his bed, their bed, and would lean against the railing outside the window, smoking cigarettes that he knew would kill him sooner. the smoke would circle his being, clouding his thoughts, and he would always flick open a lighter, trying to find light in this darkness. but jungkook, he would always appear behind him, gently pulling those cigarettes away from his mouth, throwing them to the ground, and kiss him gently. and jungkook would always blow the flame, and made him realize that the darkness is not so bad, so long as he has jungkook’s hand in his. that’s when they realized, that they could survive this. so long as they have each other .

it is often said that once you find the person that completes you, you cannot survive without them. .

not everything was perfect. fear still lingered in their chests whenever they kissed, whenever they hugged, whenever they played the piano together. fear would use its sharp claws and fight its way to the surface, standing above everything else. above their hope, above their faith, above their love. and that fear sometimes turned into anger. yoongi damned jungkook for making him feel this way, for making his dependent on his art pieces, and sweet smiles, and lovely hums, and crinkles around his eyes. he hated that whenever he picked up another cigarette, he would hesitate to light it, because jungkook had told him to try not to use them anymore. he hated that he liked the flickered paint that now calls itself home in his clothing, in his (their) bed, and in his heart. he hated the love he felt for jungkook. and it wasn’t until that fight, that everything changed. . their first big fight. their first argument. their first true, raw anger at each other. it was just that single fight. neither knew it, but that was the end of everything. .

if yoongi knew then what he knows now, he never would have let go of jungkook. he never would have let go of his hand, of his paintbrushes, of his soft singing. he never would have let go. .

but an “if” doesn’t solve anything.

“i will always love you. never forget that.” “i won’t. and i hope you never forget that i love you.” “i won’t.” .

they never actually spoke words, but their shining eyes, their caressing kisses, their gentle touches said everything they have ever wanted to say. . the beginning of the end. the end of his life. the beginning of his misery. .

yoongi doesn’t remember how the fight started, if he was honest. all he can remember are the punches he threw, the punches that jungkook threw back. the bitter beer on his tongue, and the metallic taste on his lips. all he can remember are jungkook’s blood on his fists, and the small shards of glasses on his body from the broken mirror. all he can remember is the feeling of jungkook’s arms around him, hugging him, telling his everything was okay. and him throwing it all away. all he can remember is walking away from their home, walking away from their piano, walking away from jungkook. walking away from everything he has ever loved. . the last thing he ever heard from jungkook was just a pained whimper. a soft, pleading word that he heard as he walked away. just a single word. “hyung.” .

yoongi was never meant to be happy. he knew that when he broke his piano with his angry fists, he knew that when his parents left him, he knew that when he walked away from the moments he was truly happy. he always knew he didn’t deserve happiness. .

jungkook was dead. his phone fell from his sweaty hands, the nurse on the phone still speaking words he no longer cared about. jungkook was dead. it was a car accident, they had said. his body showed signs of previous abuse, but what killed him was the impact against the car. his heart just stopped beating, just as easily as yoongi stopped playing the piano. jungkook was dead. his knees ached from kneeling on the floor, but he could not feel. his hands were bloody from where he racked his nails across the floor. his breath came in short gasps, he could not breathe. jungkook had been his air. jungkook had been his happiness. jungkook had been his piano. but jungkook was dead. and yoongi could not find any other reason to live. .

the fire always burned so brightly. he had burned so brightly. but jungkook would always blow away the flame. just like his life ended, in an instant. .

the sun still rose the next day. . when the others found out, yoongi wasn’t there. seokjin was the one who delivered the news, since he was the one who had also been called by the hospital. when he found out, the flowers in his hand fell. petal by petal. .

yoongi only played the piano one last time. a goodbye melody. .

a ‘see you soon’ song. . when yoongi returned to their apartment again, tears clouded his vision. he moved around in a hurry, collecting all of the paintings that littered in the rooms, all the paintbrushes and colors that laid scattered. he didn’t pay attention to the broken mirror, or to the droplets of blood that stained the wooden floor. he just moved quickly, gathering all of jungkook’s creations. he gently placed them all inside a box, and those that didn’t fit he put them on a bag. and carefully, he took them in his arms, and walked into the direction of the music shop. . everything was the same on the inside. the same old photographs hanged on the walls, the same instruments waiting to be used. he walked towards the front cashiers, and told a worker who seemed nice enough to hold on to the paintings. he ignored her confused gaze, and told her. “give them to jin. he always plays a guitar.” before she could respond, he walked away from her. and went one last time towards the back of the shop, where the black piano laid still, lonely. he took slow steps, and once he was in front of it, he could almost imagine jungkook sitting in front of it again, nervously playing the same note over and over. he didn’t sit down. it didnt seem right to sit without jungkook, so he didn’t. he just stood there, gazing fondly at the white keys. he let his finger fall heavily onto one single key. the same one jungkook had played, so long ago. mi .

knowing that everything jungkook had made was safe, he walked towards their home again. he took the lighter our of his pocket, flicking it on and off. letting it burn. letting it fade. with a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes. without any thought, he grabbed the bottle of gasoline that he had stashed next to the couch, his eyes getting caught on the various spots filled with small drops of paint. soon, he thought. .

everything that burns so bright, is always gone so soon. .

he walked towards their room, carrying the gasoline along. he twisted the cap, and began to pour it all around him. the bitter smell entered his nose, but not even a grimaced could be formed on his face. after all, he was never going to be sad anymore after this. he was going to be with jungkook.

he flicked the lighter on, and for the first time in his life, he let it fall.

everything had fallen too fast. they had fallen in love too fast. they had fallen into the end too fast. everything was gone too fast. .

having the flames so near him made yoongi almost melancholic. the fire was so beautiful, but as his skin begin to burn, as smoke filled his lungs more than the cigarettes ever would, all thoughts left his mind. all except one. the memory of a boy who was art himself, with a beautiful smile, bright eyes, and the sweetest laugh he ever got to hear. the flames engulfed his entire being, until all that remained were ashes, and the faded tune of an old piano still ringing in his ears. .

jungkook. that was his last thought.

. the last piece jungkook had made was a simple one. soft waves against a cloudy sky. clear sand underneath the sun. the same day when they visited the sea. only this time, the puzzle was complete for seven other figures stood in front of the sea, side by side. .

when jungkook died, yoongi’s heart stopped. like the last beat of a masterpiece. .

yoongi nor jungkook where with them when they visited the sea again.

it had been a sunny sunday morning, with a slight breeze and the singing of birds. it was just the five of them. five. .

the waves still crashed. the sun still shone. the boys still lived.

when they visited the sea again, they didn’t play anymore. taehyung didn’t build castles, nor did jin play his guitar. but they did take one last picture. a lone photograph of the sea.

if one took a closer look, you could see the wings of birds flying through the photo, far away in the distance. flying towards the sky. .

none of them kept the picture. instead, they placed it inside a charred, once brown, piano. a piano that had once belonged to two boys who were gone too soon. but who were at least together.

when people used to ask yoongi who his love was, he would smile, and say the piano. but after jungkook, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

drawing always used to be his escape, jungkook knew. but he also knew that those paintings weren’t his only salvation, for yoongi existed. .

they saved each other and made each other fall. .

their world might have begun with a single note and a shy smile, but it ended with them.

“don’t let go of my hand forever.” “i won’t let go of you either.” .

their world might have begun with the sea, but it ended with them.

“you made me begin-“ “you saved me.”

their world might have begun with a touch of hands and a glance at the eyes, but it ended with them.

“thank you.” “for what?” “for not leaving me.” .

their world might have begun with the piano and art, but it ended with them. .

the sea still lived underneath the moonlight, carrying the memory of seven boys who once found a piece of themselves in each other. .

and two of those boys found a home in lonely pianos, flawed paintings, and the never ending sound of the beautiful sea.

Notes:

i hope you guys enjoyed this new style that i'm trying out. thank you for reading!! i hope you enjoyed!!!

and please leave comments down below, they always make my day. thank you, once again!

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