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thatfeelinwhenyou · 10 months

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KINDRED — 29

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (2.0k words)

❥･• episode 29 — the garden is full of surprises

"Y/N," you hear Jungwon's voice, and you squint your eyes playfully as he approaches you from his group of friends.

It's funny, fascinating even, how despite Jake endlessly speculating about the possible questions on today's paper, Sunoo complaining about not having enough study time, and Sunghoon who came to school with a singular pencil declaring that he hadn't studied at all (even though everyone knows he probably pulled an all-nighter), Jungwon remains entirely focused on you.

It’s a peculiar thing, how the world around him seems to fade away when you’re near; his eyes and ears attuned to your every move.

He watches as you anxiously pick at your nails, a nervous habit that he took notice of over the past week. He observes how you close your eyes and silently recite the formulas that have been etched into your brain since the beginning of the school year, just in the slightest case you forget. And most importantly, he notices how your eyes light up when you confidently answer a question, one that either Chanelle or Yunjin has quizzed you on.

It's as though, in the midst of the chaotic pre-exam chatter, Jungwon has the unique ability to filter out the world, focusing solely on the sphere you occupy.

Just before you make your way into the exam room, he leans in and gently pats your head in a reassuring gesture. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, reminiscent of the night he walked you home and how that small gesture kept you awake the entire night. His eyes are determined, silently encouraging you and assuring you that, no matter what happens, he's there for you just as you are for him.

"Good luck, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice laced with a spring-like warmth despite the approaching winter chill.

With a renewed sense of determination, you stride into the exam room, your heart fortified by his presence and the whispered encouragement still echoing in your head. As you take your respective seats, you exchange one more glance with Jungwon—a glance that nearly convinced you nothing in this world could possibly go wrong, as long as you had him by your side.

Friday comes around rather quickly (contrary to your liking), and your final English Literature paper proves to be a tad more challenging than you had expected. Having been more proficient at it compared to other students, you chose to put it aside, focusing on other core subjects (and Jungwon). Before you knew it, you had completely neglected it by the time the exam rolled around.

Completing the paper is one thing; however, whether you're confident in your performance is a question to be pondered on another day. Or at least, that's what you attempt to tell yourself. On the other hand, you're glad to see that your friends seem to have a huge weight lifted off their shoulders as they discuss activities they could do over the two-week break before the final term.

More pressing matters, this final literature paper also marks the conclusion of your and Jungwon’s daily study sessions that stretch into the wee hours of the night—the end of an excuse you used way too often to see him over the weekend.

"Now that mid-terms are over, I say we celebrate," Yunjin pipes up among your friends who are discussing the answers to the literature paper, the scarred look on Beomgyu’s face telling you everything you need to know about how it went for him.

Yunjin's proposal sends a ripple of excitement through the group. "Celebrate? Sounds like a plan," Sunoo says, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes sparkle with anticipation, mirroring the glimmer of excitement that's now contagious.

“We deserve it after all that studying," Chanelle adds, her tone reflecting a mix of relief and enthusiasm, and Judging by the collective nods, it's a sentiment that resonates with everyone.

As plans for the celebration unfold, Jungwon leans in, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he whispers, “I think I deserve a present for my hard work and dedication in the last month or so, what do you think?”

Your response comes in the form of a mock scoff. “Pulled a few all-nighters, and you think you’re all that, huh, Yang Jungwon?” He's about to offer a witty retort when Sunghoon interjects.

“I know, let’s all go to Jay’s. I’m one-hundred percent sure Mrs. Park would love to have us over,” Sunghoon suggests, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Yeah, she would, everyone but you.” Jay sends Sunghoon a playful glare, causing the latter to chuckle sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck. The room fills with laughter, and you just know the man is up to no good. One thing that these boys have reiterated over and over is to NOT let Sunghoon into your home, especially the kitchen. You didn’t question the advice, but knowing him, it’s probably best to heed it.

You can almost taste the excitement in the air, a sweet residue of relief, joy, and the sweet anticipation of post-exam celebrations. As the discussion continues, plans solidify. The prospect of visiting Jay’s house brings a collective sense of anticipation. But of course, it’s not going to happen without Jay sitting Sunghoon down, in the corner of the classroom, drilling the notion that his kitchen is most definitely not a kid's toy.

When the whole lot of you poured into the living quarters of the Park family, the look on Mrs. Park’s face was almost comical. Yet, she just as quickly concedes to the pleas of her son, knowing he worked his ass off the past few weeks studying. And like mother, like son, Mrs. Park didn’t miss the chance to shoot a playful glare, or more like a warning, at Sunghoon.

The living room was transformed into a cosy haven, with blankets strewn across the floor, creating makeshift seating areas. The walls were adorned with Polaroid snapshots capturing moments from Jay’s high school journey—a testament to the bonds he had forged over the years. As the evening unfolds, you and your friends find yourselves immersed in a delightful mix of activities.

Chanelle and Sunoo engage in a passionate debate over Twilight, their banter infusing the room with infectious energy. Beomgyu, perhaps the most spirited of the bunch, erupts in cheers or protests with every twist and turn in his game against Heeseung in League of Legends. Gyuvin and Riki, mischievous as ever, playfully assault you all by pouring ice down your shirts. Yunjin, Jake, Jay, and Ryujin immerse themselves in the hot wing challenge, courtesy of Mrs. Park's culinary prowess. Sunghoon remains mysteriously absent, leaving you and Jungwon on the porch, seeking refuge from the lively chaos that ensues behind the glass barrier.

Seated on a bench nestled amidst the bushes, you and Jungwon face the entrance leading back to the area where Gyuvin is presently in hot pursuit of Beomgyu, presumably over something stupid. The gentle flicker of the lanterns strung up along the trees cast a soft glow on your faces as you shared a moment of tranquillity.

Neither you nor Jungwon initiates conversation, yet the silence is comfortable, reminiscent of the many study sessions you shared with the boy. The realisation dawns that with the reopening of the new term, there's no longer a reason for Jungwon to accompany you to the library or for you to attend his practices. The two of you will no longer be tied down by the documentary, returning your lives to the way they were over a month ago. The only difference being you no longer despise one another. Strangely, this revelation brings a touch of sadness, a sentiment you find surprising given that, not long ago, you'd have celebrated the prospect of no longer having to associate with him.

You share a silent laugh at the antics of your friends. As you reflect on the night, another thought hovers—soon, you'll part ways with these people as graduation approaches, and each will embark on their own set path. The bittersweet realisation lingers, casting a subtle shadow over the otherwise joyous celebration.

You're so caught up in your own overthinking that you don’t even realise Jungwon inching closer to you on the bench, closer than he was over a minute ago. He is apprehensive when he realises the expression on your face shifting into a mix of lethargy and melancholy. In a spontaneous move, he closes his eyes and lays his head on your shoulder, a silent attempt to divert your thoughts from whatever troubles you. Unsurprisingly, it works like a charm.

"What are you doing?" Your shoulder tenses as you try not to shift too much under his weight. Clearly, intimate skinship isn't your forte, evident by the awkwardness in your posture. Yunjin would probably find it amusing to see you in this state.

"I'm recharging. It's been a really long week, and I'm exhausted. Let's stay like this for a few more minutes," Jungwon says, his voice dropping an entire octave lower than usual. You don't protest, finding yourself enjoying the unexpected intimacy of the moment. You make the bold decision to rest your own head atop Jungwon’s, shifting around to find a comfortable spot to settle in. Unseen by you, a smile slowly creeps up on the boy's lips.

"I can't believe mid-terms are finally over," you remark, a genuine smile gracing your face. The scent of the blooming flowers in the garden envelops the air, adding a touch of sweetness to the moment. Jungwon nods against your shoulder, and you feel the soft bristles of his hair tickling your face. His gaze fixates on the lone firefly that somehow found its way into Jay’s garden, its gentle glow dancing in the night.

"It feels like a weight has been lifted, doesn't it?" He says, almost absentmindedly. The soft murmur of laughter from your friends in the background creates a soundtrack to this serene evening.

You chuckle, your gaze falling onto the same firefly, “Not really, your head is actually pretty heavy." You hear him silently let out a 'tch' and you snicker.

Jungwon's expression softens, and he takes a moment before speaking. "You know, I was thinking about our late-night study sessions. I'll miss them." A playful glint enters your eyes. "Oh, are you going to miss me, or just me helping you with trigonometry?"

Jungwon laughs and you can feel the subtle vibration beneath you, the sound of his laughter carrying a warmth that echoes the sentiment between you. "Maybe a bit of both."

The gentle breeze carries a faint fragrance of jasmine, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy. The silence this time around is more anticipative than comfortable. There is an unspoken notion that hangs in the air, and neither of you is sure of how to approach it. That is until Jungwon does.

“It doesn’t have to end,” he starts as he lifts his head from your shoulder, hanging it low to avoid looking into your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“As in whatever we have, frankly the past month was one of the best months I’ve had in high school. You’re a really good friend, Y/N. And I don’t wish for us to go back to how we were before.” You notice the panicked language of his body, and you know Jungwon meant every single word he said. There's something about this boy that feels precious, so precious that it makes you want to hold onto every single thing, every single memory. And you already know that you, too, don’t want to lose this friendship, or whatever Jungwon calls it.

You rise from the bench and gracefully lower yourself to kneel in front of him, your eyes meeting his, which were avoiding yours just moments before. The vulnerability in his gaze reveals the fear of losing you, teardrops barely concealed behind his eyelashes.

So, when he expresses his reluctance for anything to change, you confidently tell him, “I wouldn’t want anything else.” as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i am so so so so sorry for this late chapter istg the writer’s block goes crazy 💀 as always i apologise for any typos or grammatical errors, i literally finished this at 2am in the morning 🤧

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow

taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @sweetkeiji @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life

*white = cannot tag

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kiruamon · 3 months

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Spring through the Seasons AU - From winter back to spring

Next part of the AU. Pretty much Y/N having found a new companion in Moon. And them doing some backtracking through Moon's and Y/N's own home territory. (Like the times before: Sketches are found in between the text. Just saying in case that some of you are only here for the art and not the story which is also completely fine.)

The night was over. And with it, the raging of the snowstorm. Once again, the landscape lay untouched before your eyes as you step out of the cave into the bright light of the morning sun allowing your eyes to adjust to the brilliant white of the snow. Behind you, the snow crunches under Moon's boots as he walks to your side. Your gaze remains fixed straight ahead, roaming over the landscape. "Have you thought about what you want to do now?" you hear him ask with his calm voice. You realize that he wants to know whether he should lead you to the border in the north despite his warning or not. Of course you would like to get to your destination as quickly as possible, but… what's it worth putting yourself in pointless danger when there could be another way? "I… will take your advice to heart and go back to my home. After that, I'll try to travel further east. Maybe I'll find a way there," you answer him with a wry smile. Despite the minor setback, you haven't given up yet. You notice how the three wolves step out of the cave. They shake themselves under the rays of the sun as if to drive the last remnants of drowsiness from their bones. Then they pass the two of you, casting only a quick glance back at you before running off into the vastness of the plain and through the freshly fallen snow. You look after them with a smile, hoping to see them again one day.

Moon remains silent. And you simply allow yourself to lose yourself for a while in this moment. The mixture of cold air and warm sunbeams on your skin feels vitalizing. It's as if your senses are hyper-aware of everything, like the sound of the piled-up snow collapsing and falling to the ground from the heavy, low-hanging branches. Even standing here side by side with someone you feel connected to in a way you can't quite put into words yet. But for how much longer? What will become of Moon when you take your way home? "I will accompany you," he suddenly says, as if he has managed to read your thoughts. You look up and blink at him in surprise. "You… are coming with me?" "Someone has to make sure nothing happens to you." There is a reserved lightheartedness in his voice as he utters these words. "I-I can definitely take care of myself," you say, puffing out your cheeks a little, but honestly you're more than happy to hear his words and your vines bob up and down in a treacherously cheerful manner as you try not to grin too much. Moon seems to notice the little motion that betrays the tone of your voice, as the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upwards. "I'd still be more at ease if I knew you wouldn't freeze into an ice pillar while you try to get back home on your own." You giggle a little at his jest, which he says half-joking and half-serious. "Thanks Moon," you appreciate his offer. Very much actually. Somehow you had even hoped that you wouldn't have to say goodbye to each other so soon. To find Moon and be able to talk to him had made you realize how lonely your previous life had been, even though you had never thought of it that way before. "Do you know which way we have to go? Honestly, after that… Snowstorm? That's what you called it, right?" He nods with amusement at you. Okay. Good. Snowstorm. "Well, I'm afraid I don't really have a clue where we are after yesterday."

He laughs softly. "I know where we are. And also the direction we need to go," his voice sounds kind-hearted as he says this. The feeling of being able to rely on someone is reassuring and makes you feel more optimistic about your upcoming journey.

"Ooooh!" You pause as you notice the icicles sparkling in the sunlight on the branch of a tree. They glisten almost like the clear water of the lake when the rays of the midday sun dance across the small ripples. "They look even prettier in the sunlight." "Is this really your first time seeing something like this?" "Mhm. There's nothing like this where I come from. No snow and no ice either." Maybe that's why you find it so hard to get tired of looking at all these things. Moon certainly doesn't seem to mind. He patiently answers all your questions as you walk through his kingdom together. You were surprised to learn that ice was just another form of water. That it froze due to the cold in these lands and sometimes melted on days when the sun shone a little warmer than usual. Thaw, which could make the snow become more soggy. But at the moment it was more powdery, like the fine dust of flowers. It was simply gorgeous. And being able to look at these things together with Moon instead of doing so alone only made the whole experience more exciting. "When we reach the border and my home, there's so much I have to show you!" you say with a smile as you turn your gaze away from the icicles to look at him. You can't wait. Will he like your home? Will you be able to surprise him as much as he did with all his amazing knowledge of this icy land? It… would just be nice to make him smile more. Not to mention how much you would like to repay him for his help. He tilts his head a little and the hint of a smile steals its way into his uniquely colored eyes. His gaze rests gently and in an almost warm way on you as he replies: "I'm looking forward to it."

The world is changing. The masses of snow become more shallow. The further you walk, the less your steps sink into the snow. The more green blades of grass emerge from underneath it until they cover the whole ground in front of you. You have reached the border to your homeland. "We're here," you shout cheerfully, stepping with glee out of the cold masses of snow and onto the meadow in front of you. You turn and look at Moon, who has paused. He looks at the unfamiliar landscape before him as if he were frozen into ice.

A new world opened up before him. Completely different from the icy wilds of his realm. The cold beauty that snow and ice brought with them was familiar to him. The sparkle of ice in the sunlight. The glistening frost that clung to rocks or the bark of trees. Fir trees whose branches bent under the weight of the snow.

But this… This ocean of green blades of grass covering the ground is unlike anything he had ever seen before. The mild spring breeze makes the grass bob up and down playfully as if it was fondly ruffling the fur of an animal. Colorful flowers whose names he didn't know brought even more color to the blossoming landscape with their vibrant petals. The bushes and trees are no longer bare, frozen constructs and instead unfurl delicate sprouts and leaves that sway in the wind. Even the wind is different here. He can feel it blowing mildly and gentle under his hood and against his face. For a while, he simply stays still as he takes in the sight of your homeland and tries to understand what he is feeling.

The way Moon stands there with his eyes wide open, looking at the landscape in front of him, brings a small smile to your face. Yes, you felt the same way when you reached the border of your realms for the first time. But… unlike you, Moon is not alone at this foreign place. Just as he was there for you in his realm, you will now be there for him. To be his guide. "Moon? Are you coming?" "…" "Yes… Yes, I'm coming." Your voice grounds him. Gives him something familiar to hold on to in a world that is so completely different from what he has known so far. With his back to his own realm and this strange landscape in front of him, he slowly understands how you must have felt when you stood in this place and decided to move on. He takes a deep breath as he slowly lifts his boots and places them on the green-covered ground. Yes, he will follow you. He wants to join you on this journey. The feeling being accompanied by a silent wish that your shared time will last a little longer. It stays hidden deep in his heart as he dares not to express it out loud to you. Because… last night he wasn't completely honest with you.

It wasn't that he had lied to you. The cliff, the unstable weather near the border of the realm you want to visit, it was all very real. The fact that he didn't know where the passage lay that the animals used was also true. But… the passage was not the only way that would have taken you to your destination. It would have been impossible for you alone, but with his help you could have reached your destination quickly and fairly easy. And yet he had decided against telling you about it. Because… as incomprehensible as it was to him, he didn't wanted to say goodbye to you just yet.

He just wanted to spend a little more time with you. To be by your side and learn what the world looked like through your eyes. A little detour would certainly not hurt anyone. And even if the path was blocked at one of the other borders, he would make sure to bring you safely to your destination in his own way.

_ Side by side, you have left the border between your two territories behind you. All signs of snow and frost are gone. The trees and plants flourish in the gentle rays of sunlight. Bathing in its warm embrace. The further you travel along, the more the landscape starts to blossom. Young shrubs with green branches and the first delicate leaves nestle in the shade of the trees, which do not yet have their full crowns of leaves.

Instead, some of them bear buds that are on the verge of opening. "Moon! Look! The blossoms over there look almost like snow, don't they?" You grab his hand without thinking about it. You can feel his cold fingertips on your warm skin, but you don't let go and instead lead him with eager and excited steps to a large tree in the middle of the meadow. Apart from a few closed buds, its branches are covered over and over in delicate white blossoms. The wind rustles gently through the branches of the old cherry tree. And scattered petals fall from it to the ground like the snowflakes you saw in Moon's realm. "It looks so nice, doesn't it?" You turn to him with a broad smile and see him gazing upwards with a mixture of fascination and wonder.

He wasn't sure what took his breath away more. Whether it was the warmth of your touch that made his heart beat so fast or the sight of the white flowers floating to the ground like snowflakes. Both seemed to make his heart go faster in his chest. The way you stand in front of him. Beaming with joy and surrounded by the falling blossoms… He can't name the feeling it evokes in him. All he knows is that he doesn't dislike it. That it makes him want to see this endearing little smile of yours even more often.

"Yes, it's really… beautiful," you hear Moon say as his multi-colored eyes rest on you with an almost tender expression. You even think you can hear a little laugh lurking in his voice. He probably thinks you're a bit childish because you're so easily excited. But you don't mind. After all, you finally have the chance to share all these great things with someone. So how could you not feel so happy? Therefore, you don't even try to keep the smile off your face. Gently, you let go of Moon's hand and hold your hands out in front of you, both palms facing up. "Come on, let's see which of us catches one faster," you suggest in a playful mood. This time you're quite sure you heard a small chuckle coming from Moon. "A challenge… Well, in that case I can hardly refuse."

_ "So, what do you think? Did you like what you've seen so far?" It did. More than you probably would realize. Your eyes may still be resting on the flowers swaying in the wind around you. But Moon's eyes, on the other hand, are completely on you. Attracted by the joyful sparkle in them that always appears as soon as you see something you love with all your heart. "This land is truly unlike anything I've ever seen. Unique and full of wonders … just like the one who inhabits it… ", Moon's words are so quiet towards the end that you can't really make out the last part of it. But you are still overjoyed to hear that the place you call your home has become so dear to him as well.

Bonus that isn't part of the main story (or at least this won't happen until after meeting Sun and Eclipse):

As careful as always when he touches you, Moon takes your hands in his. Cold and warmth meet each other in that moment and send a tingling sensation through both of your skin. His fingertips are cool, while yours are warm. And yet you can see the warmth in his eyes as soon as his gaze rests on you. Just like now. "Moon? What are-" "Let's dance." Dance? Your cheeks suddenly feel like they're burning with heat, and it continues to spread to the tips of your ears like a wildfire. Some of the little buds on your vines begin to blossom as they move closer to Moon, as if he were the sun they crave for its soothing warmth. He laughs softly. Your reaction only seems to delight him more. "There's no need to be so nervous, little Snowflake." You should be feeling cold to be so close to him, but somehow Moon manages it that you only feel warmer and warmer. "Do you trust me?" he asks in a hushed voice. You already know the answer to this question. "Yes. I trust you." With all your heart. You know you're in good hands with him. "Then let us have some fun," he says with such a tender smile. A smile so gentle that it makes your heart flutter so excitedly in your chest as if it were a little fledgling taking its first flight. Your fingers clasp around Moon's a little more and you allow him to lead you. Your first dance together may be awkward, the steps clumsy and wobbly, but neither of you cares. Not as long as you have each other. Another cherished memory that you will keep in your heart forever.

TBC

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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OCTOBER 15TH. CRUELLA DE VIL

“i live for fur, i worship fur. after all, is there a woman in all this wretched world who doesn't?.”

♱ — shouto todoroki + fearplay.

♱ — synopsis; cruella de vil cruella de vil… if he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will. a man of shouto todoroki’s calibre finds amusement in torturing the one thing he might love more than spots… his favourite little hybrid, his most prized possession…you.

♱ —length; 5.9K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of smoking, cigarette burns, dry humping, shoe humping, stockholm syndrome, orgasm control, fear play, power play, clothed sex, blowjobs, oral sex ( m!receiving ), humiliation, edging, pictures, spit!kink, fem!reader, hybrid!reader, cruella de vil!todoroki. not beta read !

♱ — notes; beep boop !! happy sinister saturday my angels, this week we have one of my faves, cruella de vil 'n shou so i hope you enjoy!! i'm so excited to share this one with you <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

there is always work to be done when achieving perfectionism

discipline and obedience were two very important lessons shouto todoroki had learned early on in life.

though raised with a silver spoon perched between his perfect lips— the man, like any other who has walked this earth, has had his fair share of struggles too. enji todoroki was a man who believed in perfectionism…only achieved by hard work. discipline. obedience.

his father was unrelenting in making sure shouto knew what those words meant, raised up to take over the family business out of the three other siblings in his brood. he was neglected and unloved— but taught lessons on how to manage, make money, to speak when spoken to and listen when required to. shouto was malleable, easily trained back then, worked hard to please his father and all the companies to the family name until his light broke. until he’d had enough.

with uniquely split peppermint hair he’d managed to escape into the shadows with a sum of hush money as though not to spill the evil secrets of his upbringing— shouto had kept his lessons of obedience and discipline in mind. the money he would use as a start up, rationed into portions for rent, food and materials for the clothes he’d designed. someday hoping to make a man out of himself, and sell them to the world.

todoroki wanted to be seen by people, for his designs to reach and touch the hearts of people across the country and maybe even the world— but to do so he had to be obedient, taking an entry level job at a department store that sold high fashion ( of course under a different name…the name cruella, shouto would start from the bottom and make his own way up— he wouldn’t be attached to the cruelty of his childhood ). names of dior, gucci and valentino… burberry, celine, christopher wang flashed in front of his mismatched eyes over tills on a daily basis— pearls and diamonds he’d never seen or heard of were favoured among customers in the store. he aspired to be like them, become a household name.

to be recognised for his efforts in the world of fashion he would have to work hard, make his way up the ranks to afford furs and chiffons for the goes he had designed—stacked up on napkins and parchment paper, whatever he can find, discarded around his shitty little one bed studio. todoroki sells his first piece into a winter collection after months of cold calling and door knocking towards big owners of major stores.

success, comes with discipline, feigning obedience.

and shouto todoroki knows that he’s finally made it when the calls come flooding into his quiet, dingy london apartment looking for hints in whether or not he’s designed a spring collection.

of course he had, years in advance.

and that brings us to today, where there’s corporate buildings across the world with his alias spelled out in big red and white letters across the front, filled with passionate designers and models and all sorts of staff. there are billboards at every corner plastered with teasers for todoroki’s upcoming fashion show, he’s been on the cover of all editions of vogue at one point or another— he’s built himself off of the ground.

starting with obedience and discipline and mixed with a hint of dedication.

perhaps todoroki should thank his father for not showing he and his siblings any compassion while they were growing up, for the fearful lessons he instilled in them— but then again, it was the dual haired man who’d made a righteous name out of the syllables of his last, who became a pioneer and spearhead to the fashion industry…not poor old enji. poor poor enji, there’s not a dime to his name these days, shouto and touya had made sure of that by selling their childhood trauma to the media.

shouto made millions which he put towards his fashion company, touya has his band, fuyumi her family comfortably nestled up in some uptight gated community and natsuou wrote a book. they had all utilised what they’d been taught, to make money and to speak when spoken to ( promoted by press to speak on their upbringing of course ).

shouto todoroki is now loved by many, a peppermint haired boy estranged from his family putting himself and his designs in bright colours and elaborate patterns contrasting of his cool, and clipped self out there into the industry. and perhaps it was a cruel move on shouto’s part, but he didn’t care. dear old daddy would have to suffer for raising a son just like him. for acquiescence and regimen breeds rebels, and in excessive amounts, gives birth to bad…bad people.

he is loved, he is bad, but he is free— his ego kissed and stroked by all of those around him, who don’t know the true him. and cruella, or shouto is sure if people knew how bad he truly was behind the smoke screen of his brilliance, then his career wouldn’t quite be the same as it were now.

even though the peppermint haired designer loves his job and his work more than anything— a work life balance was also important to him too, to let the day’s stresses flood from his body was a priority. it was hard to keep the cruelty that danced around in his blood stream at bay while todoroki flittered throughout his offices and approved fabrics or threads…he needed an outlet, a reliever to tuck shouto todoroki away and let cruella come out to play.

as soon as the designer finds himself within his expensive apartment complex— his Chelsey boots clicking against the white glossed marble flooring, he’s swarmed by eager staff that welcome him home. bright eyes full of admiration tracing his outline, puffy cream fur coat, as he cascades through the reception without a care in the world. “afta’noon mister todoroki— i-i mean cruella!” the doorman had greeted him with a bobbing Adam’s apple and polite smile. “a pleasure ta welcome ya back!”

with his diamond lined eyes narrowed, todoroki let the corners of his pretty lips twitch up into a soft, smug grin. “the pleasure is all mine, darling.” he’d replied pompously as he made a b-line for the elevator. there’s confidence in every movement he makes and a bristling frost on every surface he touches as he steps straight from the elevator into his own luxury penthouse apartment, greeted by staff that shiver in his presence when he enters his home.

“mister todoroki,” staff bob their heads in respect, like they’re serving a king which they might as well be. he holds power over everyone who gets a chance to witness him speak, have the honour of seeing him at work. a king in the world of fashion.

todoroki’s boots continue to click and clack the further he explores the penthouse with high swooping ceilings and glass windows about the place—letting the cool night and all it’s stars pour in, illuminating the room accompanied by that of the moon. the white light shines in winter tones through paper scattered about the place, scrapped designs, those that’ll make the cut and some saved for future opportunities like the met gala look a celebrity has requested from him for next year. animal prints are thrown over the backs modern day architecture and chairs— the striped ones are often hidden.

shouto much prefers the perfect simplicity of spots.

they’re his favourite, round…infinite… never ending. the promise of forever is embodied in a perfect spot.

there’s a reason why he has a framed portrait of his most beloved design— a real fur coat, made entirely of spots.

is there anything more precious than something so simple and beautifully designed by nature? this is a question todoroki finds himself asking almost everyone night when he returns home from work, from being adored by people who do nothing but put pennies in his bank account— without even knowing the real him. but then he comes to stand in front of a special locked door, to which he holds the only key, he finds the answer, he smells it hanging in the air of the room as he unlocked it, pushing open the door and tasting the scent of you.

you are the most precious creation known to mankind.

knocking the heels of his pointed boots together, todoroki watches as spotted black and white dalmation ears peek out from deeper in the room, barely visible over the edge of the comfortable leather couch installed into your playroom. they hang over your darling face in shame— you know what you’ve done, and a wicked chill seeps from his bones into the air around you once he notices your dainty tail no longer swishing behind you but instead tucked between your thighs… no doubt slicked up with an orgasm you know you weren’t allowed to have.

he knows, that you know, you’ve done the unthinkable— the punishable, topaz and granite eyes glossing over with a frightening level of disappointment, lips quirking up in satisfaction when you quiver like a leaf in the wind and a puppy whine sits cutely in the ridges of your throat. you’re not to touch what doesn’t belong to you, you know that.

“there you are, pet.” cruella, shouto cocks his head to the side, speaking with his tone tilting into condescending as if he’s looking down on you. he is, clicking his heels together again but three times in order to command you to sit once you reach him. “have you been good?” a scarily sunshine smile sits heavy on the peppermint haired designer’s face, gaze flickering down to where your hips don’t fully touch the floor— no doubt avoiding contact with your swollen, dirty clit. sticky, probably, with a release you shouldn’t have had. “i don’t think you have.”

he pulls a thick, long, thin red and white smoke stick from the left inside pocket of his tailored suit— crouching down to your height and uses the death stick to tilt your stare up from the black leather of his boots to his steeled pair of eyes. “pet?” over the tobacco scent hanging between you both, todoroki catches a whiff of your arousal, a touch of perfume smelling like your instinctual fear… he sees it bright in the pretty flecks in your eyes, dancing around like candles flickering in the wind. it’s a beautiful sight, seeing you scared. he loves it, he thinks—nudging your cheek a little more. “answer me.”

you flinch back at the harsher tone he uses, the one that makes your skin crawl and you immediately lower your head in an obedience that comes with much training. “‘m sorry,” you say in one hesitated breath, shutting away those darling eyes when shouto drags a thumb over your bottom lip after popping the smoke stick between his own. you lean into him, slightly, foolishly trusting the man with your life. “‘m sorry… i am. r-really, i am—“

you’ve always been meek, todoroki knows that. he’d picked you up from a rundown pound after a hit of inspiration— a whole collection he’d design based off of black and white spots. it had been hard sourcing an amount of Dalmatian hybrids that large— especially after his flimsy childhood friend deku darling and his clumsy pianist partner eijirou had rejected his proposal to take their lot off their hands. they didn’t like the idea of him using real fur, real spots to make a work of art.

out of the bunch he’d brought, shouto kept you. the little pup who cowered in the corner, kept out of sight and out of mind. so instead of turning you into a purse or pair of boots or the fluffy fur coat he’d dreamed of… todoroki kept you, because you were most afraid of him, like you’d soil yourself or cry if the devil popped up to say hello— you didn’t love him, or pretend to at first. you were as real as could be, you didn’t fake it just to be near shouto.

you were perfect.

“c’mon pet, sit with me.” standing to his full height, looming over you— shouto hooks two fingers under your collar, the one he had custom made for you in his colours of red and white, dragging you over to the couch placed in the centre of the room. the leather digs into your skin, your eyes bulging at the lack of aid which fizzles across your empty little brain. “did you miss me, today?”

you sit back on your haunches when todoroki sinks into the couch, your teary eyes instantly and obediently shooting down to his half-hard cock as he man-spreads in his seat. fear breeds obedience, the more scared you are the easier it had been for shouto to train you to behave how he wanted, to be used how he wanted.

nodding, you whine and shouto tuts in disapproval.

“your words, darling.”

“i d-did, i missed you s-shouto!” you perk up a little too quickly at the pet name, smaller-than-his hands resting on the swell of the designer’s thigh before your ears flatten back as if you know that you’ve made a mistake, leaning your baby fat cheek on his leg in hopes of making an apology. “i-i mean sir!”

“what a good girl you are.”

shouto leers down at you, his eyes glinting with iniquity— the glistening gem colours darkening as if raging stormy clouds had blocked out the sun. he reaches out to pet you, and though you wince it’s easy for you to keen into his touch at the slightest hint of praise. “is that why you touched yourself while i was away?” he tilts his head, lips in a faux but cold pout as you simper out for him. “i can smell it on you, you filthy little mutt, soaked on your skin, slicked up on those precious fucking thighs.” suddenly, he grips your puppy dog ears, and the wag of your excited tail slows to a stop. “you disappoint me. you couldn’t even wait until i returned home. for you.”

for you.

only when your eyes brim with apologetic and fat tears, does shouto let go of your sore spotted ear— amused in how you sniffle, frozen in your place by fear. but there’s love in his eyes too, taking the form of heart shaped pupils as his gaze hones in on your messy, teary state. there should be hate blooming in your chest instead of love and yearning. this is the man that took you from your family; saw you as nothing more than fabric between stitches and buttons every time you whined and called out for the pups in your litter.

tapping his food against the floor again, shouto commands your attention. “i’ve worked so hard to keep you safe, pet, you know that’s why i work so hard,” one hand guides yours to the bulge between your owner’s thighs while the other brushes over the pink curve of your bottom lip. “designing and designing…” he pulls you up close, hunching over you at the same so that you’re a breath’s width apart.

your breathing is ragged, chest heaving in anticipation as shouto parts his lips— letting a clear, heavy wad of drool drip from his mouth onto the palette of your eager puppy tongue.

“do you know what i made?”

the question barely registers in your mind as you swallow a haziness of lust taking over— clouding your eyes and a hunger to please clawing it’s way up your throat. “nuh-uh,” you say breathlessly, tilting your head up for more, earning another glob of spit on your tongue. your tiny little hand starts to move on it’s own accord, pawing back and forth, back and forth against your owner’s dress pants. your tail picks up again, adorably swishing from side to side feeling shouto throb beneath your talented little fingertips— blood pulsing through his clothed girth.

“do i have to tell you again, pet? use your words.” todoroki relents, taking your lip between his teeth— taunting you, nearly kissing you but not quite because he knows how much you need it. he knows that if he keeps you on the blurred line between pain and pleasure, fear and felicity…you’ll behave accordingly, become easily malleable into the perfect pet.

“i-i’m not sure, sir.”

“spots.”

it’s so adorable how you go rigid, turning to stone though your heart beats in your chest and your hand rubs harder, greedier at the hard on growing beneath shouto’s expensive clothes. your eyes continue to sparkle too, with desperation to take his cock deep into your salivating mouth, pink tongue rolling out like a puppy in the wind. he sees the way your thighs stick together, grazing one another as your hole slicks itself up— ready for the taking. if he could bend you over, pull your ass cheeks apart, todoroki has no doubt that your little wagging tail would be covered in strings of your potent arousal, oozing in thick waves from your spasming puppy cunt.

he knows this for a fact, not only because hybrids like yourself are wetter, messier to aid the breeding process, but because you love being scared just as much as you so pathetically adore todoroki. you enjoy the flicker of your brain between fight or flight, how he makes your blood run cold or threatens your life as if it hangs in the balance.

mistakenly, you love shouto todoroki— and you think he might feel the same about you. you think if you behave and perform tricks, if you’re obedient just like he had taught you to be..that he might keep you safe. cherish you.

maybe that’s all true, maybe cruella isn’t so cruel. maybe he finds it in his ice laden heart to care for you just a bit… and not just because you’re a cute little pup trained to suck his pretty dick.

“i’m thinking of making another fur coat,” a wicked chuckle rumbles the designers throat like thunder in a storm, only interrupted by his hips that shoot up to grind into your hesitating hand— the one that feels out the lengthy shape of him as his precum smears against the fabric of his underwear in opaque white. he drags a finger over your face, looks with hooded eyes as your lashes brush against your cheek and you drag your tongue over his clothed stiff cock. shouto adores your tremble…you think that he might hit you.

you’d deserve it, and he had before—useless little mutts like you needed to know their place if you wanted to stick around. “that’s…that’s nice sir,” you stutter, holding back on your brainless babbles, your hips gyrating into the floor beneath you, unbred and leaky hole clenching around nothing.

a reflex out of fear.

shouto hums, tilting your chin up to face him when your mouth hits his seedy tip through the fabric of his clothes— the heat from your sloppy tongue penetrating through the rough linen layers. “so, pet, if you want to make sure i don’t turn you into something even prettier… into something nice for me to wear,” todoroki sneers huskily, tinged with evil while he uses his grip on you to shove your face into his lap roughly. “then i suggest, you open up that sweet mouth of yours and let me feed you my cock, hm?” that’s how shouto todoroki gets you hooked, he has you running on the fumes of survival instincts— trained to love him, do absolutely anything for him despite how cruelly he may treat you.

though your crystalline puppy dog eyes are screwed shut and your spotted ears, sweaty and sore and pinned to your skull— you manage to pick up on the clink of todoroki’s gucci belt, making you growl low and impatiently. the desire to taste his cum, make him happy, shoots through you like a sedative injected into your veins, targeting your red blood cells and wrapping around them to spread obedience through you. yet again, against your will, you’re coaxed into the dark, cruel enigma that is shouto todoroki, letting him set fire to your body and take over any logical thought in your mind.

cunt dripping, juices sweet as ripened fruit— you peel back the layers of shouto’s garments ( though his pants sit at his slender hips, not fully pulled down )…a mean chuckle resounding in the sex tainted air in the room as you reveal his cock to your innocent stare, letting him lean back into the leather couch. he’s longer than he is thick, mushroomed tip a little purple with blue-tinted veins running up and down the length of him, a shade rivalling his own hungry eyes as he observes your next moves. the entirety of him pulses in your soft grip, the scent of his arousal bleeding from his cockhead sending your dalmation puppy instincts into overdrive. todoroki hisses, painfully hard, as you take him gently between your fingers— your thumb moving with uncertainty to rub his pre into his tip sweetly.

you’re almost ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, the strings of your own saliva connecting the roof of your mouth to your tongue that writhes in place— aching to taste him, pleasure him with all that you can. the prominent adam’s apple of shouto’s throat bobs, watching with lustful mismatched eyes as you inch forward like a predator hunting it’s prey— reverting back to animalistic instincts while your pupils dilate. his face scrunches, a haughty moan vibrating in his chest when you grip him fully so you can guide him to your mouth—little hand dwarfed by the size of his cock, soft palm grazing the forked vein on the underside of his shaft as it throbs. “oh pet,” todoroki‘s words are drawled, lips between his teeth. “come on, be good.” you do your best to appease him, dragging his bulbous and creamy tip along the seam of your lips, kitten licking him to test the patience of your owner.

you’re frightful that you might have fucked up when you hear his hands slap down against the leather sofa before shouto drags you by your Dalmatian ears off of his girth, his own breathing irratic and irregular— cruel and cold eyes now blazing with hunger. you look up nervously, a whimper brewing on your wet, pre cum glossed lips to find the smoke stick now between his lips ( he’d lost it when kissing you. ).

“help me light it while you get me hard.” he grunts quietly, voice dipping an octave, dripping with a threat. as if he’s promising you danger if you danger if you don’t comply. he fumbles with his loose left pocket for a light after shoving the smoke stick past your wet, arousal soaked lips— maintaining eye contact as he flicks the lighter in front of the rolled tobacco. even though you can tell that todoroki is heavily aroused; you have no choice but to do what he says. he dominates your life, decides whether or not you stay as a fuckable pet or get turned into the next best fashion item. he has power over you even when his dick pulses in your hand and you squeeze him softly, letting his precum guide your movements as you start to palm him to a slow and steady rhythm. once the smoke stick in your mouth is lit, the flame threatening you, shouto takes it from you and places it between his own lips— puffing a ring of smoke into your face.

your wet puppy nose twitches unhappily, but you know that protesting will only end badly for you. that doesn’t seem to calm the racing heartbeat in your puppypussy, however, drooling at the idea of being scolded by your owner.

shouto leans back, tousled half and half hair thrown over the back of the couch— his flesh sticking to it, only caused by the cold sweat your temperate mouth has him in. both of you moan when you finally take him into your mouth, sinking down on him until your nose is pressed against milky flesh just like you’d practiced before. yours is desperate and needy, shouto’s raspy— proud at how well his little pup treats him.

of course, todoroki had to train you to suck cock too, breaching the innocence of your mouth despite your whimpered out protests at the time. he’d soon fucked it into your throat that if you wanted to live, you wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

“y-you, oh fuck—“ shouto lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan as you flex your saliva laden tongue against the underside of his dick— taking a puff of his tobacco before looking down at you with so much love you might even think it was real. “you’re so pretty pet, so… so pretty.” he knows he’s done a good thing by keeping you, cruella; shouto todoroki brought to his knees by the sinful heat of your hell searing mouth, making him repent for everything he’s ever done wrong. “were you scared, pretty? t-that why you’re taking my cock so fucking well?”

all you can do it nod, swallowing the designer down eagerly in response— a resounding hum sending chills running down his spine as teeth and tongue vibrate around his shaft. you can’t help but let your awe-filled eyes flutter shut at the heaviness of todoroki on your tongue, drooling and dribbling above the place— soaking through his clothes that probably cost more than an entire litter of Dalmatian hybrids such as yourself. he oozes copious sums of precum, thick enough to glue your mouth shut ( like peanut butter for puppies ), filling you up and luring you into going after more.

pleasing him more.

your cheeks swell while you paw desperately at shouto’s ruined lap— breathing deep through your nose before you feel the weight of his hand right between your sensitive puppy dog ears. he tugs at the twitching limbs, twisting them while pushing you down on his aching cock. your throat contracts, cheeks hollowing until you’ve swallowed him down to the base and you’re practically gagging on the length of him, tip brushing against your uvula lips k the way down. poor puppy, you flinch at the slight twinge of pain from where shouto begins to pound your mouth roughly, balls slapping against your chin, slurping mixed with his yowls of delight filling combining with the sweat and sex loaded air. when you flinch, your teeth graze at the sensitive veins wrapping around shouto— making him choke just like you, on a puff of his smoke stick.

“fucking mutt, oh—shit!” he snarls, yanking you off of his tender and red, smarting cock— not caring of the way he holds you hurts you. “watch your fucking mouth, pretty. or i really will turn you into my next fur coat, darling.” the warning is firm, rattling you to your core, your mouth even more so wet and salacious at the fear shouto strikes in you. you’re back on him before you know it, his hips jutting up into the molten heat of your mouth, tip hitting the inside of your cheek, making him shudder every time. todoroki would be lying if he wasn’t obsessed with the way your floppy Dalmatian ears bounded the more he rolled his hips into your mouth, fucking your face. he was even more delighted by your sharp canines just brushing over his shaft, but he wouldn’t admit that.

loosening his tie, he throws his head back in a drawn out gripe, his moans raising a pitch when you grip his swollen balls, full of cum and roll them between dainty fingers. he pulls his smoke stick from his lips, tongue darting out to wet them as he taps the ash against your pretty face. “i think i’ll get you off pet, since you missed me so much. since i feel so bad for scaring you.” todoroki coos with faux sympathy, head lolling down to get a good look at your tear stained cheeks and your clumped together lashes. his dual toned hair now askew.

stilling in surprise, you yelp in shock as shouto shoves a boot between your arousal painted thighs— pressing the toe against your aching, untouched clit that's barely covered by the flimsy baby-doll shorts you usually wear. they’re coated in your sweet honey, and your owner’s mouth hangs open; mocking the darling mewl that would leave your own if you weren’t being stuffed full of cock.

the boot nestles perfectly at your cunt, spreading your swollen pussy lips apart and expostulating it’s in your sweltering heat. “you’re this wet? from hardly being touched?” he mocks you, pulling his foot back to stimulate your core. “oh darling, you’re soaked, pathetically so.” it is; it’s embarrassing how turned on you are from being threatened, fucked like your mouth is a flesh light. how you want him to love you even though you could be killed at any second. “grind that pretty pussy down on me pup, suck me off good and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

doing as you’re told, you work yourself down on shouto— tail thumping against the floor while you circle your hips over the cool leather of his shoe, the material pulling back the hood on your clit and sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. puppy dog eyes cross, with tongue running it’s owl circles along todoroki’s shaft. the fact that he looms over you, has all the power in the world to end you servers as your own personal adrenaline but you don’t dare deny that getting him off, gets you off too.

despite trying not to fall apart at every lick and suck you give him, sweat shines on todoroki’s pale winter skin— just as cold as he is, but maybe his evil heart melts a little, maybe having fur is less valuable to him when you weakly pull off him, and your precum-spit glossed lips encapsulate his seedy cockhead as if to makeout with it, running the tip of your tongue through his sensitive slit. “that’s it pet, swallow me down. earn that right to cum.” simpering, shouto grabs the sides of your head— holding you in place as his ploughs his hips and dick shallowly into o-shape of your mouth, battering about inside of it.

the cigarette he smokes just barely burns marks into the black spots or your ears, making you whimper out despite desperately thrusting down against your owner’s foot, practically riding it while a tight knot forms in your lower stomach and your puppycunt gushes about the place.

todoroki lets you go once he’s exerted himself, a mop of sweaty red and white locks dangling over the back of the couch. the world wouldn’t believe it it they saw their beloved cruella now; twitching and heaving as he stares his Dalmatian puppy down, marvelling in the way you spit down onto his bulbous and dripping cockhead before joining you in doing the same. the frothy white and bubbly mix crudely runs down his shaft, and you’re quick to lick it up from the balls to his slit again.

“oh fuck, pretty darling. you’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

you don’t answer, jerking the man off as you look up at him so debauched; yet so innocent. he can see you fight the cross in your eyes as he wiggles his boot against your hardened pleasure nub, a cream staining the leather.

“w-words pet. tell me or you really won’t get to cum.”

you remember your desperation to be adored by shouto, as well as the release that sneaks up on you. so you find your words though your voice is hoarse from your throat being ravaged and decorated with precum. “i want you always sir,” you plead. “for you to always feel g-good with me!”

shouto grins, menacing, borderline crazy— it makes your pussy lips quiver while he angles his foot up, right as you drag your fluttering entrance over the toe. “you know just what to say to get me close, darling,” he says, grabbing hold of his own dick to tap it against your slobbery puppy tongue, feeding it to you again and thriving in the way that you tilt your head, angling it so he can fuck your cheek makinf your skin bulge. “gonna cum…pet, ‘n you’re gonna be obedient. hold it, until i’m finished with you…or you’re dead. meat.”

he punctuates his words with two rough thrusts, flinching with ecstasy, voice trembling. todoroki doesn’t let up in teasing your pulsating pussy, shaking his foot as you bump and grind against the shoe to your hearts content— fighting not to lose your orgasm while simultaneously dragging shouto to the edge of his own. it’s obscene the way both your mouth and cunt squelch, your owner leaking ungodly amounts of arousal into your mouth and down your chin ( though you’re no better, hot wet pussy ruining his shoes for good ).

todoroki loses his pace, smoke stick just missing his lips from how irregular and languid his thrusts are and before you know it, he’s taken a hold of your sore dog ears once more— his high takint him by surprise. “holy fuck, that’s it pet, be a good fucking dog, take it all. my seed.” the world around shouto todoroki falls away into mismatched pieces, warm and viscous cum flooding your mouth in waves; and you can’t even stop, sloppily worshipping his cock and all they it offers you as if todoroki is your god.

he might as well be, the way controls whether you live or die; even as you stare up at hearts dazzling your eyes. you need him to love you, to be proud of you. “so g-good, god pet. you’re wonderful,” the cruelty of cruella praises you, still filling you the brim with seed that sits salty on your tongue. todoroki takes a drag of his cigarette, feeling loopy, happier than ever with his decision to keep you.

lewdly, he drags shapes onto your swollen clit too, rocking his shoe against you— amused at how you struggle to keep your release at bay. tapping out the ash of his tobacco one last time, todoroki puts it out by singing the end of his cigarette into your spotted puppy ear again— smiling at your low, whistle tone whine.

“cum.” he commands, smearing his ruined cock against your lips. “or else, you won’t get another chance.”

fear breeds obedience and as if on queue, your body follows the order— a clear stream of arousal splashing out hard against the floor from your raw, sticky cunt. the world is a blinding white, black spots eating at the corner of your vision.

by the time you come to, world famous designer cruella— shouto todoroki has returned to petting your hair with gentle care that doesn’t make you fear him any less but makes you love him a little more. he chuckles, red and white hair shaking with it as you sleepy nuzzle his thigh— a mess of cum and tears and spit.

so shouto snaps a picture of you, a perfect muse for his next design.

his obedient and well disciplined, precious dalmation puppy hybrid.

more precious than any spot in the world.

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acourtofthought · 9 months

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I wonder if SJM was trying to throw us off.

Many believe Gwyn's father is from Spring because of the Rite being mentioned. But we don't know whether Sangravah has their own Rite which is still a possibility.

Or the focus is on her grandfather being from Autumn and because she had a crackling energy which would suggest fire.

And she probably does have a dash of fire in there but I got to thinking..... Why would SJM write Gwyn's main background as being from two courts that we're already heavily saturated with?

We don't need another major connection to Autumn, we have Lucien, Eris, and their mother.

We don't need a connection to Spring, we have Lucien and Elain.

I'm guessing an Elucien book would deal with both those courts in some way and Day as well.

As far as other main characters who might have a pov, Mor has a good friendship with Viviane and has visited there, was preparing to head there in the novella. We're told her relationship to it's possible future High Lady is their bridge between courts and Lucien had an unnamed contact from Winter, mentioned in book 1. Emerie is noted as having possible recent Dawn Court ancestry, Lucien is friends with Nuan (also of Dawn Court). The only court that SJMs MMC / FMC's (ones who might have a POV) are lacking a personal connection with is Summer. Something that would give them reason to fully trust the court and a reason for future leads to end up there.

Of course we've got Amren’s relationship to Varian but I don't think Amren is getting a POV or will heavily feature in an Elucien or Gwynriel book so what reason would those pairings or even Mor / Emerie (if that's the direction she's headed) have to go to summer unless Gwyn's father is / was from Summer Court.

There's definitely imagery associated with Gwyn that fits in with the Summer Court by the sea.

And a few possibilities for future plots:

I've always thought Gwyn would retrieve Narben so having it in the sea off the coast of the Summer Court could be a possibility. Amren talks of hearing the information from a fleeing nymph and Gwyn is part nymph through her grandmother..

Also, Amren and Feyre were once rescued by water wraiths while in the Summer Court (if wraiths and nymphs are in fact one in the same), could this be when she heard the information from a "fleeing nymph"?

I realize the issue with the excerpt above is that it appears the wraiths only spoke to Feyre however I don't think SJM knew she'd create Gwyn's character or that Narben would be a missing item when she wrote ACOMAF. But just as she retconned the events of Sangravah to flesh out Gwyn's story, it's possible she's tweaking how the scene in the Summer Court happened.

And if Gwyn has water as an affinity (a power found in Summer) and it's exposed to that bit of fire she's got in her background, it could explain the crackling sound Nesta heard from Gwyn:

By the end of the series, I think SJM plans on having the courts at peace with one another but at this time, many of those relationships are still somewhat strained, especially when it comes to the Night Court.

Making it so her main characters have heritage from or connections to each of the courts in Prythian not only opens the door to mending those relationships but provides SJM a reason to revisit other courts which we've either only had small glimpses of or no glimpses of at all.

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #acotar theory #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #mor acotar #summer court

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aritany · 2 months

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tw for violence & character death

Zay takes us to the fountains my third summer. They are bright with enthusiasm and I watch Seb watching them, I watch his smile twitch wider with the sound of laughter, with their quick words I can’t quite understand yet. He translates in my ear, one hand against my ribs, like I might slip away. Seb always seems worried about that. Where would I go? I hold the mist in my cupped hands and watch the droplets form in slow, iridescent beads.

It’s the nobles, Zay tells us. Their plumbing is made from mother of pearl, which makes the water shine. I believe her until Seb laughs, loud and long, and calls them a name I don’t know. Trickster, he tells me later, when I ask. Traitor, but he doesn’t mean it. Not about Zay.

Because Zay takes us to the fountains and to the markets and whispers the secrets of the city in my ear with his breath hot against my cheek, quick and disarming, and I am learning. I am learning that some of the roads uptown disappear only to reappear weeks later. That in the Quaire district, some of the plants fight back. Full moons mean tragedy down by the coast if you’re not careful. Never follow the brightly coloured birds, even if they know your name. Especially if they know your name. Zay is the key, Seb says, the key to survival; our key; ours.

Autumn brings fruit. The fruits of our labours—a home, a bed, a smile that repeats—and branches laden heavy in the Olacon courtyard, plums fat and heavy and leaking brilliant lapis juice onto paving stones. Bat is driven indoors, annoyed by blue dye or by our laughter, and we wander the lush garden, and it’s a marvel. Does Zay know it’s a marvel? I ask Seb, and he tells me to ask them myself, so I do. It’s home, he says, and then with a grin that’s maybe not for me to see, adds on, yours too.

And it is. Johadee looks into my eyes, and she knows we’re an infestation, we’re everything they say we are, every nasty word thrown our way in Ivlen when I couldn’t speak the language and they knew, they all knew. Parasite. Leech. Johadee knows, and she touches my cheek and brushes Seb’s hair back and asks what part of Ilylon we are from, and whether we are more comfortable with one bed or two.

In the garden, the plums are so ripe that Seb’s fingers dig into them and juice spatters everywhere—on his hands, dripping down his wrist, across his wide grin. He laughs and when I kiss him, I taste plum. I lick the juice off his hands, one finger at a time. Zay watches us and pretends she isn’t.

The winter in Archallow is survivable. More survivable in the Olacan house than the shelter in the forest, though when Seb asks, I will always tell him no. We pile in front of the fire, all three of us, a tangle, and it feels as though maybe this is why. Because that is the question and will always be the question. How is useless. But why? Why me? Why here? Why did I meet Seb, and why is his time different than mine?

It’s better here, he tells me. Here, he can be Seb. Here, people like Zay are free. People like all three of us. We can all be free, he tells me, and his eyes are earnest, his face upturned. His eyes are a weapon.

He’s been getting into trouble recently. Seb is bolder than I am, more comfortable than I am, but he’s strange, and sometimes people know. Sometimes they tell him so. Sometimes with words, other times with a fist. He’ll fight back, and come home bruised so Nerithara will fuss over him and heal him, slowly and methodically. Zay watches and their fingers tremble.

When the firelight crackles and Seb sleeps deeply, they tell me about their worries. She’s worried about Seb. I’m worried about him too. I twine my fingers with theirs, and I whisper his name over again, quiet, and maybe Seb is right, it feels like a key. Zay. Zay. Zay.

We can all be free.

The markets are loud, always, but especially in the spring. When the boats come from Lapaloa, and the fruit is bright and glittering like crystals, the markets are a throng. Easy to hide, Seb says, and rolls his eyes when Zay reminds him that means it’s easier for the predators, too.

I don’t like the noise. I stay back when Seb goes for cinnamon sticks for Bat, and Zay stays with me. As company? As consolation? As a guard? I do not know, but I am relieved, because I want to talk to her. I want to tell them that I see it. The way he watches. Zay watches me the way I watch Seb, and they watch Seb the way I watch them. It could be so easy, I start to say, and then Seb shouts.

We whirl.

He is arguing with somebody, his face is toward us, he is startled, and I know it will be bad before it is. Zay—

Their fingers are a vice on my shoulder, expression a warning. Not you. And he’s right, and I know it, and I watch the first blow in mute disbelief. It’s a stone, I think, it must be, Seb goes down so fast it can’t have been anything else.

The sound—a shriek, raspy with horror—tears out of me before I can stop it and is lost to the crowds.

And Zay is gone. She’s running to Seb, elbowing past people, calling his name. Nobody moves out of their way. Nobody lets him get past, and I can’t move. I’m stuck where I am—ZAY’S MAGIC—and I can only watch.

I am glad I do not see.

I would not carry that burden for all the living world could offer me.

When they return, Zay’s eyes are as hard as marbles and twice as glassy, and there is blood spattered on his fingers.

Seb’s eyes never close.

#alex writes #violence tw #death tw #polyamory #zay is genderfluid. any pronouns. btw #ARITANY WRITING HIGH FANTASY?#real not clickbait #flash fiction #esmor #i'm just posting this for fun bc :) i like it #@ jamie don't read into it. or do i'm not the boss of you

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life-winners-liveblog · 8 months

Note

You wish you knew whether boy~

jk! :p

Honestly, it's a lot of boring war, and history things...

I'm not gonna lie, I tuned out the elders when they started talking about human kings fighting and deals with fae royalty and balance and yadayada...

But yeah, lots of stupid rules, not like the spring faes are actually following any, I swear I saw one with a servant!

Remember the thing I said about breaking names? that's how you get a servant! When you steal their name,

instead of going slowly and taking away parts of them during their life until you took everything they are,

you rip everything out of them in one go! The thing breaks apart on the spot and the creature forgets everything on the spot! I heard it hurt like hell, which wouldn't surprise me, we ARE destroying all your codes soooo... *shrug*

You CAN eat a name tho! You just need to go bit by bit I ate a winter fae's name during the last war! taste like ice cream! :9

wonder if Ice Elves taste like it too...

On another note! :)

Faes can learn basically any elemental magic but we are used to some, in particular, depending on your court,

like, light magic is a given for any Seelie Fae, That's how we make ourselves all shiny with all the light particles! :D

Well, it's mostly for the dramatics but you know, sparks!!~*°+*°+

Ice magic is the only gatekeept one, Winter faes always make a big deal out of it and we always end up in another war, not that I mind killing little snowflakes but it gets old~

So ice magic users get banished,

There are other dumb ways to get banished, like stealing a fae from the same court's name or letting a player into the fae realm, or the stupidest one,

No crafting!

Oh yeah, we ALL broke that one, even the elders! XD

-Fae

Pearl:... Why does that last rule exist? That doesn't make much sense.

Scar: Yeah how can you be fellow miners and crafters if you can't craft?

Pearl: ...That too...

Scott: Are we going to comment on the ice elves thing? Because I am an ice elf and I feel slightly threatened right now.

Scar: Oh right! No eating Sc- his name.

Grian: And no stealing his name or destroying it or any of that stuff, better be specific.

#asks #trafficblr #traffic series #scott smajor #grian #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar

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chackyxyooj · 9 months

Text

You Never Valued Your Own Desires

No Manga Spoilers Present! - Modern AU

WC ~ 9,000

“You say you love the rain but open your umbrella as it pours. That’s why I’m scared when you say I love you.”

There are an endless amount of reasons behind why any one person might tell a lie. Whether that reason boils down to protecting others or protecting themselves, people will lie. There are, of course, situations in which lying is the best course of action, but there likely doesn’t exist a kind of lie that is completely harmless. No matter the reason, someone will be hurt by the lies we tell.

Why, then, would people lie?

If the inevitable consequence of telling a lie is hurting someone, does that automatically make the liar a bad person?

Is it, after all, fair to condemn someone who lies? Among the many reasons a person might have to lie, how can we truly decide whether or not a lie makes someone a bad person?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Ever since you were young, you never understood how people could have favourite seasons - well more specifically, how people could bear to choose a single one. Each quarter of the year offered you different experiences and you could never find it in your heart to choose one over the other. How could you say that you loved the playful days of summer more than the cozy nights of winter? How could you ever say that the beautiful colours of autumn were worth more to you than the stunning beginnings of spring? People often agreed with your points of view, yet many people still found that they could favour one season over the other. In the end, you would only ever answer that question one way.

“My favourite season is whichever season is happening right now.”

The older lady smiled at you a bit quizzically, but handed you a bright yellow net. You grinned as you received the net, turning to meet the gaze of your companion.

“This is a summer festival, not a fancy interview. Why didn’t you just tell her that your favourite season was summer?” The older boy asked.

You crossed your arms. “Because then I’d be lying and lying is bad.”

“You don’t even have a favourite season so technically you were lying anyway.”

“That’s not true!” You retorted. “All of the seasons are my favourite!”

“If all of them are your favourite then you don’t really have a favourite.”

“Not true!”

“Is true.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“I bet you’re just saying that because I got the last yellow net and you didn’t.”

“I only chose something else ‘cause I knew you’d say summer was your favourite. Besides, I bet you’re just saying that they’re all your favourite ‘cause you’re indecisive.” The boy teased, earning a small pout from you. Before you could think of a witty response, the older boy kneeled down and positioned his own net above the pool of water in front of him. “First one to catch a fish wins!”

“Hey! That’s not how this works!” You argued, but the boy was already attempting to scoop a fish. “If you’re going to make this a competition, you can’t start before me!” You whined.

The older boy grinned at you. “You snooze, you lose.”

You watched as he quickly dipped his net below the water and scooped upward again - to no avail. You noticed how the older boy’s eyes momentarily flickered toward you as if to ask ‘did you see that?’ You weren’t sure what kind of message the grin on your face had sent him, but you imagine that it said something like ‘definitely.’

After watching the boy fail to catch anything, you decided to catch one for yourself.

The reflection of the lanterns overhead made it harder to find a fish that you wanted to catch. Then again, you didn’t think your choice mattered since your parents wouldn’t let you keep it anyway. As you honed in on a fish to catch, the other sounds and sensations of the festival began to dwindle.

You lowered your net into the water. The fish you were eyeing slowly came closer toward you and you carefully moved your net towards it. Just as you were within scooping distance, your companion’s sudden movements caused the fish to frighten.

“Hey!” You whined, “you’re scaring all the fish away.”

“I won’t catch the fish if I don’t move quickly.”

“You’re not catching any fish anyway.”

“I was closer than you were.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’m not the one whose kimono is half drenched.” You pointed out, making the boy look down at his chest. “Your mom’s not gonna be happy about that.”

Panicked, the boy searched through his pockets for something or other. You chuckled as you watched the boy’s panic-filled motions, pulling your handkerchief from your own pocket.

You gently pressed the fabric against the damp sections of cloth the older boy wore. You could feel the dampness of the boy’s Kimono seep into the handkerchief. It was rather cold against your hand.

As you were about to lift your gaze, the older boy snatched away your handkerchief and turned away from you. “I can do that myself! You don’t need to act like my mom…”

“Oh… sorry.” You apologised, but it didn’t feel like you meant it. You had just been trying to do a nice thing. You didn’t think the older boy would get so upset with you for such a trivial matter. Then again, you had entered his personal space without consulting him first. So perhaps you did mean your apology?

As your focus eventually trailed back to the small pool in front of you, you noticed that a fish was close enough to catch.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Oh, (L/n)-san, you’re back. I hope you’re feeling better.”

You smiled politely at the pharmacist from your side of the counter. “I’m not back to perfect health just yet, but I’m certainly feeling better than before.” You replied as you handed your prescription over to the pharmacist. They looked over the paper briefly before looking up at you again.

“You must be doing well if they’re taking you off of your painkillers. I’m glad.”

You nodded to be polite, but didn’t reply otherwise.

“I should be able to gather up your antibiotics in about ten minutes. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you very much.” As you turned away from the counter, you accidentally bumped into the person who had been standing in line behind you. Despite giving an immediate apology, the person you’d bumped into muttered something beneath their breath. You couldn’t make out what they had said, but for some reason it irritated you. Although you usually considered yourself as a very levelheaded person, you found it quite difficult to bite back a response as you walked away.

In your haste to get away you had walked in the opposite direction of where you had meant to go, but you weren’t about to turn around after the encounter you’d just had. From your interactions with others to the very weather, it didn’t seem like much was going your way today. Another minor inconvenience would only make this day go from bad to worse.

You walked around in the small pharmacy to bide your time. Perhaps you could buy something for yourself to make up for the unpleasant interaction from earlier.

As you scanned over the options that the pharmacy offered, a particular candy caught your eye. It was one that your childhood friend used to share with you whenever they had the chance. Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but wonder what that friend of yours was doing now. He had moved to Tokyo with his parents just after he finished elementary school.

Back then it had always been you, him and one other boy. The three of you were practically inseparable, though that was probably because all three of your parents knew the others well. Although you had lost contact with your two childhood friends, the bonds and memories of them resonated deeply within your heart. You couldn’t say with certainty if you could still be as close with them as you had been before, but that notion could never taint the memories you had.

As you reached for the candy, another hand reached toward it at the same time.

You immediately pulled away and kept your gaze down as you apologised. You waited for the other person to take the candy first, but they didn’t. How irritating. Perhaps this was just a sign that you would never get that candy for yourself.

You reached for a different treat the stranger, for some reason, had reached for the same thing as you yet again.

As you pulled away this time, you looked up at this pesky stranger.

Speak of the devil and thou shall appear.

“Long time no see, huh?”

You could feel your lips curling into a smile at the familiar voice. Even if it wasn’t for his peachy hair or lavender eyes, you could never forget that cheeky grin of his - that certain smile he’d give every time he saw you. “Sabito!” you greeted eagerly. “It’s been forever! How are you?”

The older boy, your childhood friend who’d moved away so many years ago, grinned the same way you always remembered him doing. “Doing pretty alright.”

“Is that so? Well then, how is Tokyo treating you?”

“Tokyo? It’s uh… crowded I guess. I think I’m still waiting for it to grow on me. B-but what about you? Are you finally working hard now that you’re in highschool?”

“I’d like to believe that I’m not doing terribly. And for the record, I’ll have you know that I’ve always been a hard worker.” You insist.

“And that’s why I always had to tutor you in math, right?”

“Hey, just because I’m not the greatest at math doesn’t mean I wasn’t working hard! Besides, my mother only asked you to tutor me because you’re a year older than me.”

“You know what that sounds like?”

“What?”

“A skill issue.” The older boy teases.

At first you’re surprised, but you eventually find yourself laughing at Sabito’s antics. To be honest, you’d forgotten how easily he makes you laugh. After the long day you’d had, this was a welcomed change of pace. “It’s great to see you again, but what are you doing here?”

“My parents and I came back to town a little while ago… probably three weeks now?”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean why you’re in town, I meant to ask why you’re at the pharmacy?”

Sabito shrugs as he forces out a short laugh. “My grandfather needed someone to pick up his meds so my parents sent me. Seeing you again was a lucky surprise!”

“Is he alright? Your grandfather, I mean.”

“Oh, uhhh yeah… he’s just getting up there in age I think…” Sabito’s eyes suddenly dart away from you as he glances at the pharmacy counter, making you realise that your antibiotics were probably ready for you to pick up.

“It was wonderful to see you again, Sabito. We should catch up sometime.”

Sabito turns sharply to meet your gaze once more. “We should!” He agrees, though perhaps a bit louder than he’d intended to. “Did you want to go out for lunch tomorrow?”

You feel excited jitters rush into your body at the thought of catching up with Sabito, but something in the back of your mind holds you back. “I’d like to, but I think a storm is supposed to hit this area tomorrow. I’m not sure it would be a good idea to risk getting caught in the storm. Maybe next weekend?”

“Are you sure?” Whether consciously or unconsciously, a pout pulled at Sabito’s lips. You could tell that the moment he realised his expression was changing he tried to hide it, but he wasn’t very good at it. Something about the action sparked familiarity, but you couldn’t really put it into words. Perhaps Sabito has always been this way but child you never realised it? Either way, you couldn’t help but find his antics endearing.

“Well…” You pulled out your phone and checked the weather forecast for tomorrow. Not much had changed, but the storm wasn’t supposed to hit until the late evening. “Catching up does sound like a great time. Who am I to decline?”

“You're not just saying that to make me happy, right?”

“Of course not!” You assured the boy. “Does tomorrow at 11 o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, 11 sounds doable.”

“Prefect. 11 o’clock it is.”

At that, Sabito breaks out into a grin. “Heck yeah! I’m so excited to-!”

“(L/n)-san, your medicine is ready!” The pharmacist called from the other side of the store, cutting Sabito’s excitement short. Still, as the older boy smiled you couldn’t help but smile with him.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow then?” You wondered.

“Of course!” Sabito replied. “Make sure you don’t forget about me.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Congratulations young lady!” the older woman who was overseeing the festival stand smiled at you. She very quickly kneeled down and held a plastic bag out in front of your net. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as the older woman tipped your fish into the bag and swiftly tied it. “Make sure to put it in a tank as soon as you get home, alright? You may not know it, but-”

Not really listening to the older woman, you grinned and nodded. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this excited about something, let alone the last time you had beaten Sabito at something! When you turned around to meet the boy’s gaze, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“Sabito, look! I caught one!”

The older boy didn’t quite meet the same level of excitement as you. He only nodded curtly and replied with a short “cool.” Before you could respond to the older boy’s indifference, he had returned his attention to the small pool and was back to his attempts at catching a fish.

“You should really try-”

“I know already! Just let me do this.” The boy snapped back.

Taken by surprise, you sat in silence and watched. Was he still upset about what you did earlier? Or was he now upset about the fact that he had technically lost to you? While on any other day you would’ve rubbed your victory in the boy’s face, you decided to keep it to yourself.

Between watching the fish scurry away from Sabito’s net and the boy’s growing frustrations, you couldn’t help but feel that something about your companion was off today. Although many people described the boy as hot headed, you’ve always known Sabito to be a very tender person. The last time he had been this snappy was when his grandfather was sick in the hospital - at least, you were pretty confident about that being the reason for his shift in mood.

Your eyes eventually trailed away from the older boy and to the fish you held. Its body was littered with a beautiful combination of golden and white splotches. You put your finger against the plastic bag and to your surprise, the fish turned to look at it.

“I think I wanna name you… Comet!” You grinned. “What do you think, Sabito? Is Comet a good name for-”

“(Y/n), can you stop-”

Both of your words were cut off as Sabito’s hand knocked into yours, sending your bagged fish tumbling onto the ground. At first neither of you said anything but as the bag tipped over and began spilling out, you began panicking.

As quickly as you could manage, you grabbed your bag and pushed the fish back inside. The festival bustled around you, indifferent to your smaller form as you checked on your fish. You mumbled apologies to the passersby and avoided eye contact as you scrambled to gather your bearings, nearly falling over several times.

"(Y/n)-!" Sabito chided. There was irritation evident in his tone, but the boy had clearly held back from full on lecturing you - which you were thankful for.

"I-I know. I'll be more careful…" you stammered, your eyes glued to the bag in your hand. You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt. But why were you feeling guilty? It wasn’t really your fault for dropping the fish, but you didn’t want to be so mean as to put the blame on Sabito, either. He clearly hadn’t meant to, right?

Sabito sighed, his gaze locked on the net he held in his hand. Confused by the sudden shift in his mood you tried to catch his eye, but Sabito avoided your gaze. You wanted to ask him what was wrong but you couldn’t find the words to do so.

Just as it seemed like Sabito was about to say something, the boy tossed aside his net and took your hand in his.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The next day, as the clock neared 11, you found yourself standing outside a quaint cafe where you and Sabito had agreed to meet. The anticipation built within you and you couldn't help but glance at your phone, checking the time repeatedly. Surprisingly enough, the weather was holding up well with no signs of the impending storm.

Just as you were about to step inside to escape the chilly breeze, you spotted Sabito approaching. His eyes brightened as he noticed you and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Hey (Y/n)!" Sabito greeted, quickening his pace to join you. "I was worried you might change your mind because of the weather."

You chuckled, "No, the storm seems to be holding off for a bit. Let's make the most of it while we can."

Sabito nodded and the two of you entered the cafe. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle hum of conversations.

As you settled into a corner booth the friendly banter between you and Sabito flowed effortlessly. The initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by the easy camaraderie of old friends catching up. The smile that had become a constant presence on Sabito's face was infectious, and soon you found yourself genuinely enjoying the moment.

Between sips of coffee and shared laughter, you couldn't help but marvel at how much Sabito had grown since your childhood days. The pout that made a brief appearance yesterday was long forgotten, replaced by a confident and charming demeanour.

As the conversation drifted, Sabito's expression turned thoughtful. "You know, (Y/n), I was looking through some old photos the other day. Found one of us from when we were kids. It brought back a flood of memories."

You leaned in, intrigued. "Really? I'd love to see it."

Sabito chuckled, "Maybe next time. But it got me thinking about how much has changed. Life takes unexpected turns, doesn't it?"

You nodded, "It sure does. But some things remain constant."

Sabito met your gaze, a softness in his eyes. "Yeah, some things do."

The cafe buzzed around you yet it felt like time had slowed down, allowing you and Sabito to reconnect in the most unexpected and delightful way. Little things about Sabito that you’d never noticed before began jumping out at you. Perhaps they were things that the boy had always done but you never noticed because you were young - well, younger.

You enjoyed listening to Sabito talk. The way he would slip out of his Tokyo dialect when he began talking about something passionately was certainly something new, but not unwelcome. The boy, however, would awkwardly apologise or laugh whenever he swapped.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell him to stop apologising and to speak however he felt most comfortable. It wasn’t like you couldn’t understand what he was saying - you were familiar with both dialects, after all. Still, you didn’t think it was in your place to tell Sabito how to speak. You’d always kept unwarranted opinions to yourself and this was probably one of them.

“Do you want to go for a walk or something?”

You turned your gaze away from your drink abruptly, embarrassed to be caught spacing out. “As in right now?”

“When else would I be suggesting it, silly?”

“It sounds nice, but I don’t think we should be out and about when the storm hits.”

“But when’s the next time we’ll have an opportunity to hang out like this? Come on, please?”

You look at Sabito curiously. His behaviour was similar to yesterday but nothing like the young boy you remembered - or maybe this was exactly as you remembered? Three years was a long time. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to continue chatting too.

Despite your prior judgments, you agreed. It seemed that Sabito couldn’t be happier, too.

Before long, you and Sabito were walking the familiar paths you used to walk when you were kids. Aside from the running and playing, it was just like you remembered.

The two of you took turns talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. As you began spouting off about the strange weather, something about Sabito’s demeanour seemed to change - or perhaps it was just the weather itself? A cold breeze had made its way past you at that same moment, after all.

“Oh, that reminds me!” the older boy suddenly chirped, a grin on his face as threw his hand into his pocket. Surprisingly, he pulled a familiar package of candy and held it out to you.

A delighted expression spread across your features. “These are…!”

“I noticed you were reaching for them yesterday but you never ended up buying them.”

“That’s because you distracted me before I could get them!” You retorted. You reached for the small package and opened it eagerly. You could see Sabito watching you from the corner of your eye. He looked to be caught between a laugh and a witty comment but refrained from doing either. Not thinking too hard about it, you popped a candy into your mouth.

“I knew it!” You grinned. “It tastes way better when you’re the one who buys it for me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Apparently they’re going to discontinue these within the year.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear? Their mother company filed for bankruptcy earlier this month because they spent too much money trying to create a mobile game to promote their partnership with a new up-and-coming technology company.”

“For real?!”

Sabito looked at you with amusement. “Yup.”

You paused for a moment, a grin of your own pulling at your lips. “Well then, you better buy me a million packages before they go out of business.”

“Jokes on you, I already have.”

“With what, your allowance? Wait! Don’t tell me that when you moved to Tokyo you got coerced into joining the Yakuza and now you break knees for a living!?”

A certain look pulled at the boy’s lips but it was quickly replaced with a smile - the strange kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a bad boy who-” Sabito is cut off when his phone suddenly starts ringing. When he checks the caller’s ID he turns to you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s my parents.”

You shake your head as you reply. “Don’t worry. I can wait.”

The boy nods and answers his phone call. You feel a bit awkward to be standing right beside him while he talks over the phone so you try to keep yourself occupied. Even as you turn your eyes towards the sky, you can’t help but listen to what Sabito is saying over the phone.

“He what?”

There are dark clouds in the distance.

“Is he going to be okay?”

They seem to be closing in rather quickly.

“Right now? But I can’t!”

Was it just you, or did it suddenly get a lot colder?

“Tomorrow?! But you said we’d wait until he was better!”

And perhaps darker too?

The phone call ended with Sabito shoving his phone into his pocket. You turned your attention back to the older boy, doing your best to have a comforting smile on your face. “Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sabito replied, though he notably kept from making eye contact with you.

“Telling me not to worry will only make me worry more, silly.” You try to lighten the mood, but you aren’t sure if it’s working. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sabito shakes his head, but doesn’t reply otherwise.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I also want to help you if I can. Does it have something to do with Tokyo? Or does it have to do with your grandfather? I’ve known you for a while and-”

“(Y/n), can we just…” Sabito’s words trail away as rain begins to pour from the sky. The two of you turn in near unison and look when the first droplets hit your heads. There’s hardly a moment to realise how much rain was about to pour. By the time you could process what was happening, Sabito had grabbed your hand and was pulling you along.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The sky above suddenly burst into a bright array of colours. Before you knew it, you were running hand in hand with Sabito through the crowded festival. For the most part you had to focus on the ground in front of you in order to keep from tripping, but between shallow breaths and rapid footsteps your eyes peeked above the crowd and into the sky above. You could only catch glimpses of the colourful waves of light that rippled through the sky, but it was beautiful.

All of a sudden, Sabito stopped running. You nearly slammed into the boy but managed to catch yourself in time.

When you turned to see why Sabito had stopped so abruptly, you realised that the place you usually watched fireworks was already taken up by a crowd of people. You doubted that you’d be able to see over everyone if you tried to squeeze your way in and figured that Sabito had come to the same conclusion.

For what felt like a heartbeat, you and Sabito watched the light show in silence. Each explosion painted the heavens with vibrant strokes, creating ephemeral tapestries of reds, blues, and golds. The waves of colour rippled through the vast expanse of the sky, leaving behind traces of smoke that lingered in the air.

It was a sight that left your heart in awe.

As the finale of the fireworks fizzled away, Sabito’s gaze remained fixed overhead. The boy’s hand tightened around your own, but you didn’t let go. Only when the surrounding crowd dissipated did Sabito break the silence.

“Was that it?” The older boy began.

You shot the boy a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” The way Sabito kept his gaze on the sky made you think that the boy hadn’t heard you. You cleared your throat and spoke again, asking “you didn’t like the fireworks?”

“The fireworks were fine, but I-” The boy cut his response short. “Let’s go home.”

You quirked your head to the side with a small pout. “Is something wrong?”

“W-what?”

“I mean, are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just thought that you’d want to catch a fish or something. You were the one who wanted to go to that stand in the first place. We don’t have to go home just yet. I’m sure your parents won’t mind if we stay a little longer.”

Sabito shook his head but didn’t respond otherwise, only serving to confuse you further.

“I don’t understand. You were the one who wanted to catch a fish so badly, so why are you getting so upset? Is it because you couldn’t catch one? Or is it because we didn’t get to watch the fireworks where we usually do? If that’s the case we can always come back next year and-”

“(Y/n), stop! I said let’s go home, so let’s just go.”

For a moment, it felt like the world was standing still.

A heavy feeling pulled at your chest and it suddenly became hard to breathe. There were so many things you wanted to say but you couldn’t communicate any of them. You were afraid that if you started to talk, you’d only end up saying something you didn’t mean. This was a familiar feeling, though - not familiar because of Sabito, but a familiar feeling.

You’ve always known that people can have bad days and you’d be remiss to say that you’ve never had a bad day before. Still, Sabito had been particularly irritated tonight and you couldn’t understand why. At this point you genuinely couldn’t tell if you had done something horribly wrong. Was it something you said? Was it something you didn’t say? Was this something that had to do with you at all?

You tried to shake the thought away - now wasn’t the time to think about such things! But you couldn’t get the thought of Sabito out of your head. Perhaps if you two were a little older, you wouldn’t have been left with so many unanswered questions. Perhaps you would’ve been observant enough to realise why the older boy was acting so coldly, or maybe you would’ve had the courage to ask him directly. Even so, you didn’t.

Without a word, you pushed past Sabtio and ran.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Sabito had never really considered himself a people person. That wasn’t to say that it was hard for the boy to get along with others, only to say that Sabito didn’t enjoy the process of meeting and getting to know new people. He liked to believe that he was perfectly equipped to have normal interactions with people he didn’t know, but that didn’t always mean that he wanted to put effort into making new, deeper connections. He much preferred to keep people at an arm's reach. Why? The boy often found himself wondering that as well.

When Sabito was in first grade, his personality often drove people to one of two extremes: staying away or being a ride or die - as much of a ride-or-die a first grader could be, anyway. The other children tended to recoil at the intensity of Sabito’s personality, but he didn’t mind. He truly believed that people who were similar would gravitate toward each other, him included.

Then, when Sabito reached the third grade, he realised the kind of people his personality attracted were not the kind of people he wanted to be friends with. In his 8-year-old opinion, the children who were drawn toward him tended to be mean spirited or spoiled.

In a pivotal moment Sabito deliberately changed, challenging his established beliefs about personal identity for the first time.

Sabito’s change affected many of his relationships. It wasn’t an immediate change of course, but a gradual shift away from the people he’d previously considered his friends. In exchange, many people who considered Sabito an acquaintance began shifting toward him - you were one of these people.

Technically Sabito had known you since before he could read or write, but he never really considered himself your friend until he was in fourth grade. It was only then that the two of you began arranging your own play dates instead of following what his parents arranged with yours. It was only when he reached fourth grade and you were in the third grade that Sabito started finding himself eagerly awaiting the next time he would see you again.

“Sabito, are you still awake in there?”

Sabito sat up from his futon and looked over at his door. He wasn’t sure if he had heard you right over the sounds of the pouring rain, but he wasn’t so mean that he would leave you standing there.

When Sabito pulled the door open, he immediately took note of the way his mother’s clothes looked on you. The pattern made you seem older than you were, but the expression on your face made you look extremely young.

“You doing alright?” Sabito asked.

“I’m alright.” You answered, your eyes looking away from Sabito’s own. “I’m just not very tired. I was wondering if you wanted to stay up and chat for a little while?”

A knowing look overtook Sabito’s expression. “It’s the storm, isn’t it?”

“So you haven’t forgotten about that, huh?” You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, the storm has been keeping me from falling asleep. If you’re trying to fall asleep though, that’s okay too! I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”

Sabito shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry. Just come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

As Sabito turned away, he could feel his heartbeat racing within his chest. He tried to focus on other things instead. Reaching out toward the lamp in the corner. The sound of his bedroom door sliding shut. Your shuffling footsteps as you ventured further into the room.

When was the last time he’d felt this way? Sometime within the past three years? The night his parents received the phone call from his grandfather? This afternoon when he was on the phone with his mother? No, this feeling was different. It was oh, so very different yet somehow all the same.

“Do you mind if I sit on your futon?” You asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Without looking up, Sabito walked over to the edge of his futon and took a seat. He imagined that you were probably sitting on the other end of the futon. Not so far that you felt like strangers, but not close enough to be anything more.

Ah, things like that shouldn’t be important though. The two of you were friends - are friends! There’s no need to complicate the relationship between the two of you. This didn’t have to be any different than how it was before. It didn’t need to be different from how it was just a few hours ago! Still, Sabito couldn’t seem to calm his nerves.

Was this how it had always been? Sabito has never been someone who lingers on any moment for too long, yet it felt like he’d lived this moment before. Sitting across from you with nothing to lose or gain; the sound of silence drowned out by his own fears; it was all so familiar.

“Sorry if I’m causing you trouble by being here.” You apologised, catching Sabito off guard.

“To be fair, I was the one that dragged you all the way here when it started to rain and I was also the one who suggested you stay over. If anything, I should be apologising for putting you in this situation in the first place.”

You shook your head. “No, this is fine. Actually, I’d say this is rather nice.”

“Why? Because of the storm?” Sabito can tell that you’ve shifted in your spot so that your body was turned toward him. Still, he kept his gaze focused on the floor.

“Well yes, partly because of the storm… but we both know that when it comes to storms I’ve always been a, what was it that you used to call me, a ‘chicken?’” You let out a short chuckle to yourself. “There’s a part of me that’s here because I genuinely like your company, but there’s also a part of me that doesn’t want to be alone.”

“So I’m your babysitter?” Sabito teased.

“Of course not! You’re someone important to me!”

Sabito lifted his gaze and suddenly came face to face with you. Your smile was gentle and warm - exactly the way he’s always remembered it.

Sabito had always remembered you being a little bit of an oddball in comparison to other people he knew. There was hardly a person who talked to him the same way you did. Always so matter-of-fact yet teasingly go-with-the-flow.

There were other things that he noticed about you too. Like the fact that you would always save your last piece of candy for someone else; how you always said your favourite was one colour when really it was another; and the fact that you loved every season so much that choosing one over the other seemed to physically pain you. These weren’t the kind of things Sabito noticed about other people, so why did he notice them about you?

The answer to that question quelled Sabito’s beating heart as much as it prompted it to race.

“I think I’m in-”

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot there.” You suddenly chimed. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to see or talk to you since you moved three years ago. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say something bold to me just because of what I’ve said to you.”

“Oh, yeah…” Sabito replied with a forced laugh. “Don’t worry, I get that. I was just going to say that I think I’m ready to throw in the towel and head to bed.”

“Did you want me to leave you be?”

“And leave you alone to brave the storm on your own?” Sabito mused. “What kind of person leaves their friend in their time of need?”

“A mean one?”

“And is that the kind of person I am?”

You smiled. “Of course not.”

Sabito helped you bring the futon he’d set out for you earlier into his room. The storm outside had worsened but Sabito tried not to pay it any mind. It wasn’t long before the two of you were laying down in the dark and talking about whatever came to mind. Eventually you began phasing in and out of consciousness until Sabito was left to his own devices.

As the two of you lay in the dark, Sabito was hit with the sudden awareness that he was smiling. It wasn’t the kind of smile people considered beautiful or genuine though. It pulled at his lips like instinct but never reached his eyes. This smile was nothing more than the polite smile he’d come to perfect for when others expected him to do so - a mask he had perfect for when others were watching. Yet despite how no one could see him he still smiled.

He smiled knowing he hated the way it felt.

There was a slight warmth against Sabito’s neck. The boy turned his head already knowing what he’d see - he’s thought about you plenty of times while falling asleep before, but that didn’t make it any less strange.

When was the last time you’d fallen asleep beside him? It definitely wasn’t while he was living in Tokyo, but he couldn’t really remember the last time the two of you had a sleepover. It must have been while the two of you were just children. Not really that much younger than he was now, but not old enough that any indecent thoughts crossed his mind.

Sabito examined your features slowly. The shape of your eyes; the softness of your skin; the colour of your lips; all of it was so familiar yet so foreign.

For a moment, Sabito thought about leaning forward. If he did he would surely end up kissing you, but if he ended up kissing you now he’d never forgive himself for it. Even if you weren’t asleep and even if you wanted to kiss him back, that wasn’t the kind of thing a man should do. Even so, he wondered.

Sabito wondered if you’ve fallen in love already. He wondered if you’ve already had your first kiss or if you’ve already had a boyfriend. He wondered about pointless things and foolish things alike, but ultimately wished to ask one question.

Did you hate him?

What a silly question. Sabito knew the kind of person you were. He doubted you would ever utter a word as strong as hate, nor would you speak anything of love. You were never the kind of person who flooded others with strong words because you thought they wanted to hear them, you were the kind of person who noticed the little things.

You noticed how others always loved receiving candy from you when it was the last piece in the box; how some people loved it when you shared their favourite colour while others enjoyed it best when ‘their colour’ was completely their own; or how you wouldn’t reveal your enjoyment of all seasons just so that you would be more easily agreeable. Most notable of all, Sabito would be remiss if he didn’t already realise that you knew he loved you.

There was one more thing about you that Sabito’s always known about you; something that he was certain other people noticed too but never mentioned because of your carefully crafted smiles and deliberately chosen words.

Sabito knew that just like him, you were lonely.

Perhaps being lonely was the reason why Sabito was drawn to you in the first place. Neither yours nor Sabito’s parents could spare much time for their respective children, but there was one major difference that Sabito’s always been aware of.

Sabito has always had his grandfather to lean on.

To say that Sabito was surprised to see you while picking up his grandfather’s prescription would be an understatement. He was ecstatic to see you again, but a part of him was scared. When he moved to Tokyo he left without so much as a goodbye. He remembered how upset his grandfather had been on the phone when he confronted Sabito about it. You had arrived at the house expecting to see Sabito only to learn that he’d gone and moved to Tokyo. Even when your conversations fell back to how they used to be, Sabito felt that he was in the wrong.

He shouldn’t be allowed to be your friend again.

He shouldn’t be allowed to tell you how much he loves you.

Not after leaving you alone when he moved to Tokyo.

And especially not after making you cry.

Lightning raced across the sky and thunder shook Sabito from his thoughts. When the room was momentarily lit up, Sabito became aware of your curious eyes. Your body was tense with terror yet your eyes showed nothing but concern for himself - for Sabito.

“You say you love the rain but open your umbrella as it pours. That’s why I’m scared when you say I love you.”

Sabito shoots you a confused look. “What?”

“A part of a quote from one of Shakesphere’s poems.” You answer. “Well, it’s sometimes attributed to Shakespeare but there are similar poems out there that have come before it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m not sure to be honest. If I had to guess I’d say it’s because of the rain. I’ve always been terrified of storms yet I have mixed feelings when it comes to rain. It’s beautiful and nurturing, yet can also be awfully suffocating and miserable. That’s why I get scared whenever it starts to rain.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say something so opinionated before.” Sabito explains.

You shrug. “And I’ve never known you to so adamantly avoid certain topics before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There’s a moment of silence as you seem to gather your words together - as though you’ve been formulating what you’ve been wanting to say for a while but haven’t had the courage to speak them until now.

Sabito feared the worst, yet your expression told him to lay down his guard.

How could he though? Sabito had never wanted or needed to be vulnerable in his life, yet in front of you he felt like his entire soul was on display for you to see. He couldn’t hide himself from you, neither could you seem to hide yourself from him. That’s what he’s believed until now, but the you who currently lay in front of him felt like someone he’s never seen before.

It’s a version of you who is far older than the you he left behind. A version that’s wiser, kinder and more mature than the girl he’d known three years ago - even more so than one might expect. A girl who’d matured beyond her years yet hides herself behind what others expect her to be.

Then you spoke the words he never thought he’d hear:

“Are you experiencing Adolescence Syndrome?”

It took a moment for Sabtio to understand what you’d asked, but his answer came out before he could really think it over.

“How do you know about Adolescence Syndrome?” Sabito questioned.

“It happened to someone at my school about a month ago. It was a pair of brothers who are known for having a less than perfect reputation.” You answered, your tone of voice softening ever so slightly before returning to how it had been before. “According to the internet, Adolescence Syndrome is something that only affects those who enter puberty and occurs due to extreme feelings and circumstances. So I’m curious, Sabito, as to why you’re experiencing it. Your symptoms are causing you to affect the weather, right? What kind of extreme feelings or circumstances are you experiencing that might be the cause of it?”

Sabito remains quiet as his eyes avoid your own.

“Does it have anything to do with moving to Tokyo? Perhaps something to do with your grandfather’s illness and placement in the hospital?” You pause for a moment. “Might it have something to do with me?”

“No!” Sabito’s eyes shoot up to meet your own, only accompanied by a flash of lightning racing across the sky. There’s fear in your eyes for a moment but you’re quick to hide it.

As the room returns to darkness, you hum a short tune of response before speaking. “Sorry. I guess I really am a part of the problem.” You apologise, catching the boy off guard.

Sabito can feel your body pulling away as you begin to stand and it makes the boy start to panic. He didn’t want to drive you away again. He didn’t want to leave you like he did last time.

He didn’t want to make you cry.

As the sky lights up once more, Sabito seizes the opportunity and grabs hold of your hand. Thunder shakes the room yet the older boy can only hear the sound of his own heartbeat. He’s certain that you can hear it too since you’ve tumbled onto his body. The boy can feel your trembling, but he can’t tell if it’s because of the storm or because of him.

He waits for you to push him away; he waits for you to hit him. He waits and braces himself for an onslaught of insults he certainly believes he deserves, but it doesn’t arrive.

Instead, you ask the boy a question.

“Do you remember the last festival we spent together?”

At first Sabito is surprised by your question. He doesn’t know where it’s going and that thought scares him, but he doesn’t feel threatened. Eventually he mumbles out his response. “Yes, I do. It was the last time you saw me before I moved away to Tokyo.”

“I often think about that night, you know.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I was awful to you back then.”

“Perhaps…” You replied, your tone now softer than it was before. “...but you were also just a child. We both were.”

“Oh… I guess so.”

“You guess?” You teased the boy briefly. It caused a short laugh to erupt from Sabito, but he felt guilty for laughing. “Sabito, it’s not your fault. Your grandfather’s sickness, moving away, missing the fireworks… none of that is your fault.”

“But I-”

“But you what? There were so many things going on in your life that caused you to suffer, but you didn’t talk about it with anyone because you didn’t want anyone to worry about you. It’s not your job to keep other people happy.” Slowly, you took Sabito’s hand and placed it over top of his own beating heart. “I want you to listen to me carefully because I’m likely only going to say this once: what you want matters too. Life is never perfect for anyone, but it’ll never get better if we don’t communicate our needs to others. It’s hard to know what’s best for ourselves since we’re still so young, but it doesn’t hurt to talk to the people you trust about what you want. It’s much better than suffering all on your own.”

There was a strange quiver in Sabito’s chest as he listened to what you had to say. It was like he was caught between a whisper and a scream, but could force out neither. To him, that feeling was what he hated the most.

“That being said…” you began as you moved to sit beside Sabito. “Talk to me about what you’re going through.”

“As in everything?”

“If you want to, then yes. You don’t have to tell me everything unless you want to. Just know that whatever it is you tell me, I’ll listen."

Once again, Sabito found himself waiting for you to do something. Whether it was turning and running, pushing him away or just falling asleep, he waited. He kept his guard up and waited in case what you said didn’t match what you did, but that moment never arrived.

Rather, it’s you who waits for Sabito.

Patiently, kindly, and attentively, you wait.

The pounding of the storm suddenly seemed to slow, and the whisper of a scream disappeared from Sabito's chest. For the first time in a while, Sabito felt like he could truly breathe.

It was liberating, terrifying, and everything in between, but you were here with him.

And for Sabito, that was enough.

══════════════════

Epilogue

Why, then, would people lie?

If the inevitable consequence of telling a lie is hurting someone, does that automatically make the liar a bad person?

Is it, after all, fair to condemn someone who lies? Among the many reasons a person might have to lie, how can we truly decide whether or not a lie makes someone a bad person?

You and Sabito ended up talking for hours that night. He talked to you about why his parents decided to take him to Tokyo with them and how he didn’t want to go; about what living in Tokyo is like for him and the kind of people who surround him and his family; about his grandfather’s sudden heart attack that brought his family back to town; about his fears of moving back to Tokyo and his fears of leaving his grandfather behind for a second time. For the first time he could recall, he was able to talk about anything and everything that had been weighing on his mind without the fear of being judged.

In the midst of it all, Sabito realised just how much he had been hurting himself by staying quiet. He still wasn’t sure when he had started lying in the first place, but Sabito realised that all of the lies he told to keep others happy weren’t harmless - they were hurting himself.

He had lied to his parents about Tokyo and had continued lying when he realised how happy it made them. If he kept it this way for any longer, he was certain he would resent his parents for a long time - perhaps even for the rest of his life! - which was the last thing he ever wanted.

Instead of going back to Tokyo, Sabito wanted to stay in town and live with his grandfather. The thought of going back and leaving one of the most important people in his life behind made him realise just how much he wanted to stay. Rather than just sitting on his thoughts forever, he would finally talk about it carefully, honestly and truthfully. If it was of his own volition, Sabito was sure his parents, as well as his grandfather, would let him stay.

There was, however, one thing that Sabito kept to himself that night.

Perhaps one day he would finally build up the courage to tell you about it.

#sabito #Sabito Demon Slayer #Sabito X Reader #Fluff #Angst #Childhood friends #reunited childhood friends #alternate universe #modern au #Adolescence Syndrome #that one syndrome from rascal does not dream of bunny girl senpai #oneshot #connected oneshot #memories of the future

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peachyqueenly · 11 months

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Cookie Run, Queerbait, and why the concept does not apply to SeaMoon... 2!!!

//This is a repost of an older post, as something else came up that I wanted to add to this analysis. If you don't want to reread the entire thing, feel free to skip to the section headed with 'Queerbait: Lost in Translation'.//

There are a lot of issues with the way Devsis, the developers behind Cookie Run, handle diversity in their games. Most notably, it falls into the common trap many, MANY gacha games do in that it partakes in a lot of orientalist tropes. But one debate I’ve seen that I just cannot get behind, as a lesbian, is the idea that they have queerbaited-- most namely, with SeaMoon.

Below the cut, I will explain why: what queerbait is and what it looks like, queerbaiting vs coding, and why comparing WlW tropes from other countries to queerbaiting is unfair (and also maybe don’t apply a Japanese literary concept to a Korean game, more on that later). All in a bid to show why it is not only wrong to compare SeaMoon to queerbaiting, it is harmful.

SeaMoon, for those unfamiliar, is the name popularly given to the ship between Sea Fairy Cookie and Moonlight Cookie in Cookie Run. Aside from the ocean and the moon being a common motif for romance in fiction already, the game had hinted at their romance in a lot of in-game and side material. Most namely, Sea Fairy’s line about Moonlight’s heart ‘being the warmest’ and the “I want you Everyday” music video with their moment together + the lines that went along with that moment...

Your love brought spring to my endless winter...

For more examples of where their romance was suggested, I recommend this doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LPJU8yBYD8Ng7lhh_lR0bA2XRwmJTtbRceGuKahFxFs/edit

The point is, most WlW in this fandom caught onto the romantic ramifications of the ship long before Moonlight was expanded on in Kingdom and the recent updates all but confirmed their mutual affection towards one another. The two of them even got matching costumes and a bond story that was as close to romance as Cookie Run would do (as it is ultimately not a romance centered franchise).

With who they are established...

Queerbait: What is it?

Queerbaiting most popularly is understood as a marketing gimmick where creators and multimedia companies suggest queerness to draw in LGBT people and allies, only for the rug to be pulled out from underneath fans. Though it has other meanings, especially in other cultures as I'll explain more below. Whether this is utilizing the ‘bury your gays’ trope, the rep being constrained to insignificant side characters/moments, or just not existing at all.

The two most popular examples of queerbaiting would be recent Disney movies and Voltron. Though special shoutout to Harry Potter, as if we didn’t have enough reasons to hate the book series and JKR. As the stuff with Dumbledore was an obvious retcon to go ‘look how progressive I am!!!’.

Voltron’s last season had two key things regarding queerbait: the Klance drama (the ship between Keith and Lance) and Shiro’s bait and switch with his partner.

To the show’s credit, Shiro was actually gay. Even revealed to have had a partner he was engaged to. However, this rug was pulled out from underneath fans when they actively killed said partner. He was given another partner in the epilogue, but the fact he was revealed to be gay only for his partner to be killed off (coupled with the next thing) upset many queer fans.

Klance is a lot more insidious. In the run up to the final season, Netflix and the crew actively promoted the show using Klance and its popular support. Despite the fact they knew the relationship was never intended to be canon. This is one of the most explicit examples of queerbaiting out there, and is foundational to understanding the specificity and insidiousness of the marketing ploy.

For Disney, I would like to focus on the Star Wars sequels and Beauty and the Beast (2017). The last movie of the sequel trilogy had the creators talking about how there would be queer rep... leading many queer fans to believe they were talking about Finn and Poe for obvious reasons, something the creators never corrected/confirmed. Only for the rep to merely be two background characters in one scene.

As for Beauty and the Beast, Le Fou was celebrated as Disney’s first openly gay character, leading folks to believe they’d explore him having feelings for the titular bad guy. But that was never really explored in any meaningful way, and the rep we got of him was a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment between him and an unnamed character. Arguably he could fall more into coding, but the fact Disney actively marketed him for his gayness is where it bleeds into queerbaiting.

In general, queerbaiting is a more modern problem, as companies feel they can say the word gay now. But are still wishy-washy on actual depictions of queerness. So we get them celebrating their inclusion, even if it’s ultimately little to nothing.

Queerbaiting vs Queer Coding

This is when an important distinction needs to be made: what is queerbaiting and what is queer coding. Queer coding is when media uses subtext, but never explicitly says, a character is gay. A good way to understand this is to compare 90′s disney movies to modern ones.

As discussed above, modern Disney will often go on about having queerness in their movies only for it to be minimal at best if not existent. 90′s Disney meanwhile never marketed their movies as having LGBT elements, but many fans could see the way in which queerness came through from characters like Ursula (literally modeled off a drag queen), Scar, and Hades.

Queer coding can be seen as a product of the Hays Code era-- where positive depictions of ‘perverse sexuality’ (including homosexuality) was not allowed in film, relegating a lot of queerness to the roles of villains (hence the association Disney villains have with it). That, or queer creators had to find ways of coding their heroes in ways that went under the nose of cishet audiences.

Queer coding exists in a net-neutral space. As queer coding, while in many ways is outdated in a world where media can show explicit LGBT rep, was integral to the ways in which queer creators told their stories for years. And actively influences the way many queer creators continue to tell their story (for better and for worse). It can also perpetrate stereotypes against queer people, as we saw with the Disney villains, however.

Still, this is different than the relatively modern concept of queerbaiting as that is largely a negative phenomenon. Queer coding was a tool used and is still used by actual LGBT people, while queerbaiting is more often than not the work of cishet folks or corporations wanting to make a quick buck.

Queerbait: Lost in Translation

Another element of queerbait I did not previously address is how its more commonly understood in the context of cultures' media (such as in Eastern countries like Korea and Japan). As the financial reasoning behind the idea isn't as front and center (for a myriad of complicated reasons regarding how explicit queer rep can be from country to country). Though this definition of queerbait can also apply to US and English based media.

To some, queerbait also applies to coded LGBT relationships that are primarily centered on or meant to appeal to straight audiences (WlW rep meant for the male gaze, MlM rep meant for girls).

In other words, fetishized LGBT coding.

I would personally argue (as a queer non binary lesbian) that this meaning is less insidious than the money making logic behind modern queer baiting that happens in the US mainly, but its for an important reason...

A lot of this queerbait relies on elements of coding still. While the way many Western viewers see queerbait in American media relies on using explicit queerness as a marketing ploy. To compare, let's look at idol/sports anime and the previously mentioned Disney movies.

The idea that idol/sports anime is queerbait is... contentious. And one I'm not entirely sure I even agree on. But it is undeniable that some of its more WlW centric scenes appeal to the male audiences that view these shows or games. Still, nothing is ever made explicit. It utilizes elements of queer coding originating from the yuri/gl genre that was built up by queer people themselves.

To some, this may be more insulting. For me personally though coding has always been a net neutral, and this form of coding is just more on the negative end for me. Still, there is something there for queer people to take away.

Meanwhile, the way in which disney queerbaits its audience is by saying their character is LGBT then... doing nothing with it. Not even elements of coding. Just-- 'yep there's a gay character in our movie come watch it'!!! Its a lot more soulless compared to the previous one, and therefore to me is more insulting.

Why SeaMoon falls more into Coding

With the two elements defined, let’s explain why SeaMoon falls more into the realm of coding rather than baiting.

First off, the way the devs write romance is consistent with how they wrote SeaMoon. Most of the ways in which things were left vague before Kingdom could be explained in the devs unfortunate habit of not elaborating on things they really should elaborate on. On top of romance in general being coded rather than explicit in the franchise.

As an example, lets discuss the two closest things to M/F romance we have in the franchise-- PureLily (Pure Vanilla and White Lily) and MintCocoa (Mint Choco and Cocoa).

PureLily became more explicit in the same update as SeaMoon (with Pure Vanilla wondering aloud if he still loves her), but in general the way their relationship was shown before the Crunchy Dreams event was largely through subtext (how the two spoke of one another, PV’s garden, etc) and outside material (the love quiz).

This also applies to MintCocoa. During the days of OB, the game itself did not elaborate much on either of the two’s characters (just as they didn’t with Moonlight). With most of their romantic subtext (like SeaMoon) being in outside videos, media, and merch. Kingdom in general seems more willing to elaborate on romance, as we saw in the story that came with Cocoa’s release.

And secondly, the devs never really threw SeaMoon around as a way of saying ‘look how progressive we are’ or to appeal specifically to LGBT fans. Anytime SeaMoon was included in media, it was often alongside other coded relationships such as MintCocoa or things like RaspRose (Raspberry Mousse x Rose). And even the times they did do things like promote themselves during pride month, they never used SeaMoon. Instead they used the Hollyberry kingdom (due to its bg having same-gender couples dancing and having drinks together).

The way SeaMoon was treated up until the recent Kingdom update was more in line with queer coding rather than queer baiting. Which is NOT perfect, as media should go beyond coding in the modern age. But it is not as bad or as insidious as queerbaiting implies.

Not as insidious as either definition of queerbait; as nothing about the relationship between them is really centered on being for the male or fetishized gaze either. They're Cookies... in a series where romance is not a focus. While one could argue their romance is stuck more into the background compared to say MintCocoa and PureLily, it still isn't designed to be fetishized (in canon, what fandoms do with SeaMoon and other LGBT ships is its own matter).

Extra Note on S Class Comparisons

S Class is a trope in Japanese media where two girls will often have a very close bond, akin to romance. However, it is ultimately still platonic and disappears upon either graduation from school or marriage. It is over 100 years old, with some of the first pieces of the genre being in the early 1900′s. And was a major influence on the yuri, more commonly called GL now, genre.

Before anything else, I want to offer a brief aside that maybe we should be careful when comparing a Japanese literary trope to a Korean game. Comparing the two countries can be a very... very touchy subject matter. Especially in the context of this being a genre that rose in popularity during the colonization of Korea by Japan.

I do NOT think you can compare SeaMoon or anything in CR to S Class tropes. But I will discuss it just to clear things up, as I find comparing the trope to queerbaiting problematic.

It is more akin to queer coding rather than queer baiting. Why? Many of the authors who utilized the trope were queer themselves. In fact, “Obuko Yoshiya, a lesbian Japanese novelist active in the Bluestocking feminist movement, is regarded as a pioneer of Class S literature”. Again, a key factor that separates coding and baiting (being that queer creators will often code but won’t bait).

The genre is at its worst stifling and harmful to the modern day GL genre in Japanese literature, and extremely heteronormative. But to compare it to things like queerbaiting or to entirely dismiss it as a form of WlW rep in the context of how it was used by actual queer people in Japan is entirely unfair to the genre; queer rep does not look the same in every country.

S Class also evades the way in which queerbait can mean being meant for the male gaze, as it is a trope whose origins lie earnestly in media meant for girls. That does not mean it can't be used to appeal to the male gaze, but it is not where it started.

Ending Notes

Are the devs perfect in their representation of SeaMoon and WlW? Of course not, there is a valid conversation to be had on how queer relationships constantly being merely coded rather than explicit is annoying and hurtful. And more and more queer people have this critique of the concept of queer coding. On a personal level, I can forgive it in this specific case cause its in line with how the devs do romance in general. But if it bothers you that it was merely coded for the longest time rather than explicit, that’s entirely valid.

But the idea the devs ever queerbaited audiences is unfair and actively makes many WlW feel invalidated in how they easily saw the coding present in the two’s relationship. Again, queer coding is a net neutral phenomenon while queerbaiting is mostly negative. To subscribe such a notion to what is important rep to so many WlW is hurtful.

Sources

https://www.animefeminist.com/escape-yuri-hell-flip-flappers-critique-class-s-genre/

https://bookriot.com/what-is-queerbaiting-vs-queer-coding/

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LPJU8yBYD8Ng7lhh_lR0bA2XRwmJTtbRceGuKahFxFs/edit

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Class_S_(genre)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queerbaiting#:~:text=Queerbaiting%20is%20a%20marketing%20technique,romance%20or%20other%20LGBTQ%2B%20representation.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queer_coding#:~:text=Queer%20coding%20is%20the%20subtextual,character%20in%20media%20as%20queer.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #sea fairy cookie #moonlight cookie #seamoon #media analysis #lgbt writing #lgbt #queer coding #queerbaiting #crob #cookie run ovenbreak

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scorchieart · 2 years

Text

Characters: Gilbert von Obsidian x F!Reader

POV: 1st person Genre: Slice of Life

Prompt #4: “I'd agree with you, but then we'd both be lying.”

Wordcount: 999

A/N: I did it, you guys! Thank you Mary Ellen for the request and the vote of confidence, and pretty much laying the groundwork for this entire fic, it could not have been done without you. And thank you to everyone else who believed I could write Gilbert, this one goes out to you all!

I missed the little rabbit the moment I sent her away. Each day in her absence was like blindly wading through the thickest bog, pushing and pulling with no end in sight, as though the sun had forgotten to dawn. I missed the way she happily hopped into my sights like a footloose bunny, spun poetry from the even most mundane of topics like a morning dove, and warmed my skin as heartily as a babe seeking her mother’s embrace.

All these things and more I wanted to convey upon her return, to tell her of the heartache that flowed through my veins as organically as my own blood, both sustaining and rotting me from the inside out, but one look at her glittering smile dissolved those woes quicker than any antidote, and we were back to our daily routine.

My little bunny and I, side-by-side. Nothing in between.

“Won’t you at least try one of Prince Yves’s danishes? He prepared four entire batches before agreeing to let me bring some back for you.”

Her words were sincere and earnest, and I could tell she truly had my best interest at heart as she carefully arranged three pastel pastries from a rose-draped basket onto a plate. A gentle breeze whistled through the gazebo where we sat, and though our shoulders were flush against each other, the sweets she carried seemed to separate us once again, like a border between winter and spring.

“I’d much rather have one of your famous double-chocolate dipped cookies instead,” I said, lightly pushing the plate back onto the table with the hilt of my cane. “Or a dozen.”

She frowned and picked the plate up again. “But I can make those for you any day. These were prepared only just this morning, and I went through a great deal making sure they stayed level on the journey. The meringue in the batter will deflate if we wait any longer.”

“And that is precisely what I want,” I said. Though we have known each other for quite some time now, I still wondered whether she could pick up on all my cues. Visual ones she mastered instantly, as did most who met me, like when I tap my cane on the ground to grab attention or tilt my head to emphasize a point. But she still needed to work on subtext, because while I meant my comment to be endearing and praiseworthy of her talents, she responded by turning the other cheek and letting out a snide “Humph!”

I truly enjoyed this playful side of her. It assured me that what I believed in was shared by another soul; that one was never too old to cling to childish habits. But what I wanted more than anything now was a return to our normal relationship, back to when the sun dawned brightly on my days like I heard it does in Rhodolite.

“Have I gone and upset my little rabbit? This simply will not do, especially in the midst of my terrain,” I said, a playful rumble gurgling in my belly as I pronounced each word. “Of course, the ill-manners of a beast left alone to prowl in his big empty castle are expected upon the first meeting of his beloved bunny after ages of crippling solitude, yes?”

She turned to face me, and in an instant I knew she had fallen yet again for my renowned duplicity, innocent as I was today.

“It wasn’t exactly ages,” she began, her face clouding with guilt. “But… I guess I have been gone longer than usual this time. I thought bringing the sweets would cheer you up, but is there any other way I could make it up to you? Besides the cookies, I mean.” She added, and the rumble in my belly released in a low chuckle.

“I have several ideas,” I said, the childlike sensation surging inside me. I raised my hand between us, palm facing upward. A few moments passed as she stared blankly at it before she caved.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked, poking my hand with her forefinger.

“Well, that’s your mission now, isn’t it?” I said, stretching my cheeks in a wide grin. “There are many answers to this riddle, but only picking the best will absolve you of your misdeed.”

“And if I don’t pick the best answer?” she said.

I tilted my head and her eyes went wide. Yes, I do believe she has my visual cues down pat.

“You’re just bluffing, aren’t you?” she stammered. “Come on, it’s not like me staying away for that long was so bad. It’s not that big of a deal, right? Right?”

“Hmm. I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be lying,” I said. Of course, I was only playing this up for my own amusement, but seeing her urgently wanting to keep in my good favor gave a certain rebelliousness I could only find enjoyment with in her, my little bunny. I lightly shook my hand. “Tick tock.”

She lowered the plate and frantically looked around the gazebo, eyes darting to the table and the exit and our seat and the flora surrounding us. It was a little difficult concealing my excitement; she wouldn’t find what she was looking for around us. I could have sprung up this game in the middle of a wasteland and it would make no difference.

Her eyes finally shut in concentration, and I took in the subtle beauty of her musings. It was like looking through a mirror of my time when she was away. Lost in thought, with no lifeline to cling to.

But in an instant, her eyes shot open and she beamed. Before I could react, she seized my upturned hand in both of hers and lunged at me, burying her face in my chest, my once-nippy fingers held captive in the compressed space between us. Touching. Nothing in between.

“Did I get it right?”

At least I can say I was able to write him before canon complicity shunted him from my grasp for the next year.

Tagging: @atelieredux @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @gilbertvonobsidian

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #scorchie writes #grab-bag prompt list

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the-lonelybarricade · 1 year

Text

As the River Flows - (6/8)

Summary: As Feyre lamented quietly over the misfortune of her life, there, in the marketplace, she heard a merchant instruct to its patron: Place a butterfly wing under your tongue before you sleep, and you will dream of your true love

A gift for @sideralwriting 💕

Read on AO3・Series Masterlist

When Feyre peeled her eyes open to darkness, she knew she was still sleeping.

Even though she could not see the bedroom, it was clear it was not the one she had fallen asleep in. The biggest tell was the drift of a warm breeze, delivering the fragrant salutations of spring when it had been an alpine winter that kissed her goodnight. If she held her breath and listened, there was no sign of the crackling hearth that had lulled her to sleep. But she could hear crickets just outside her window. Swaying wisteria. The heralding creak of floorboards beneath familiar feet.

Her hands tightened on the blanket that pooled over her lap. She didn’t know whether to be distraught or overjoyed. Feyre had told him her last letter was a permanent goodbye, that continuing to meet in these dreams would be too painful.

Already, she could feel her eyes welling up.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice sounded different, she noticed. Disguised, like something in the dream was distorting it. The wood shifted again as he took another step toward her. Then there was a subdued thud just before the edge of the bed, like he’d dropped to his knees. If she reached out, she was certain she would find his silken hair beneath her fingers. “I’m a selfish man, and I couldn’t resist visiting you like this.”

“You’re sorry?” Feyre echoed.

“Unspeakably.”

Did that mean… he hadn’t been waiting for her at the Archeron gates?

“You are my true love.”

For such a beautiful statement, it sounded so ugly with the way Feyre had to pry the words past her constricting throat. She blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears because once they started falling, she knew they would not stop.

“You are my true love, and I married another man, and you are apologizing to me?”

“I would have done everything differently, Feyre.” His voice sounded so small. “If I had known—I was overly confident. I messed this up and I wish so desperately to fix it, but I don’t know how.”

Feyre crawled towards the edge of the bed, letting her legs hang over the side as she tentatively reached into the dark. Her fingers pressed into soft skin, a gentle scrape of stubble. She heard him exhale.

“It is already done,” she whispered. “I am already married, and bound to him through magic. There is nothing that can be done, my love.”

Strong fingers closed around one of her wrists, drawing it towards his lips. His kiss was fleeting, quick as her fluttering pulse. Then he bowed his head forward, resting his forehead where his lips had just touched. His eyelashes brushed the back of her hand as he screwed his eyes shut, and she was relieved that they felt damp as well.

“Do you think you could ever be happy with your husband?” he asked. Excruciatingly quiet. Like he feared the answer.

No, Feyre wanted to say. To comfort him, to protect her own pride. But she hesitated on that answer, which felt so cruel that she settled on confessing, “I don’t know.” Then, when that felt insufficient, she added, “They say that he is cruel.”

“Has he been cruel to you?”

“Not yet.”

She could hear him swallow. There was a grit to his words as he choked, “But you expect he might be. That it is only a matter of time.”

“I…” Feyre started to speak, then bit her lip, thinking better. How much longer could she speak to her true love of her husband, before she became the one who was cruel?

“Do not hide from me, Feyre. Not here.” His fingers tightened, gripping her the same way she remembered gripping onto Nesta and Elain at their mother’s funeral. Like it was all too much. Like it was all he could do to hold on.

“We have not laid together,” she said. “As husband and wife. I expect he is not being cruel to me for that reason. So that I might be easier to… coax.”

Her true love gave some strangled rendition of a laugh. A sound that a wingless butterfly might make, weakened and crumpled and still trying to pretend it was whole. Or at least, that is how she felt sitting before him, knowing that he was hers but she could never be his.

“I see,” he said hoarsely. “You deserve better than a wicked man like him, Feyre.”

“I deserved you,” she cried.

He raised his head, her wrist still encircled in his large hand. “No.”

She started to stand and he tugged her arm as a means of discouraging her, but she pushed forward anyway, fell to her knees on the floor in front of him.

“No,” he was saying. “No, Feyre, you deserve bet—”

It was effortless, the way her body slid against his, how her arm hooked so cleanly around his neck, as though that had always been its intended resting place. When her mouth slotted against his, she knew that its shape had been molded to fit his. And when his grip on her wrist surrendered, sliding up to thread his fingers through her own, she knew they were made to lock in place.

“Feyre,” he moaned, his voice expressing the discouragement his body did not have the strength to. Even as he said it, that small two syllable protest, his palm roved over her lower back, pulling her closer. And it was not her tongue gliding against the seam of their lips, though it was her mouth that opened.

When his tongue stroked over hers, Feyre felt his entire body shudder. She could feel him pulling away, and Feyre thought if this was the small fraction of eternity that she would be granted with her true love, then she would not let him slip between her fingers. So she wound them through his hair, instead, holding him with that same vigor he had held her wrist. Like it was all she had, her lone possession in this world.

“Please,” she whispered against his mouth. “Don’t let go of me until the sun rises.”

Who had the power to decide what was a dream and what was reality? Maybe this could be her life, and the daylight beside her husband just a nightmare. A thing that faded away when the dark set in, warm and rich and lovely. It was the night that had always known her. The stars that had never judged her.

“I can’t,” he said, tearing his mouth away. It was how the butterflies must have felt to have their wings stripped. Feyre knew it because she felt like dying for every second she could feel his ragged breath caress her face and his lips did not follow.

Maybe that was the true cost of the magic. To feel whole just long enough to have it ripped away.

“Because I’m married.”

“Because I have ruined everything and I cannot—” Reprieve came to her in the shape of his hands, fingers curving behind her neck, thumbs sweeping the shape of her cheekbone. He whispered, “I cannot ruin this, too.”

“I want you to ruin it. Ruin me.”

The fingers stilled. “Feyre.”

It was a groan more than anything else.

She raised up on her knees, pushing against his hold to seek his lips again. He did not stop her, but kept himself utterly still.

In an effort to persuade him, she confessed, “I want the first time I’m touched to be from you.”

Like a letter thrown into the flames, he crumpled, body curling forward until his forehead slumped against hers. He was gasping.

“I can’t let myself take that from you—“

“It is not my husband’s to take,” Feyre said, pulling at the hem of her nightgown. If he was too much of a gentleman, then she would do it. “I should get to decide, and I choose—“

“Feyre,” he begged, reaching out to still her hands. “Feyre, please. I know you will only regret it.”

“You don’t know that,” she snapped. Her frustration made her impatient. In a different world, she might have allowed this dance of propriety and doing what was right. But the sun—the one who hid so much from her, who never let her look too closely even as it scrutinized her in turn—it would be up too soon. Feyre took his hand and guided it between her thighs, letting him feel the evidence of her wanting. He sucked in a breath as his touch feathered over the slick seeping through her underwear.

“I’ve thought about you touching me like this before,” she whispered, thankful that the darkness wouldn’t betray the flush spreading over her chest.

Slowly, Feyre guided his hand upwards, until the tip of his index finger nudged against a small bud that made her gasp.

“Like this?”

His voice was so guttural. A man condemned, surrendering to her whim as he swept his fingers likely over that sensitive spot. Feyre’s breath sped up. The sensation rushed to her head, making her feel light, airy—powerful, to be taking this right from her husband. From a Prince.

“Yes,” she lauded, tipping her head back. “Just like that—please.”

He brushed the silken fabric aside to touch her with his bare skin, and immediately she felt like she was on fire. It was clear he knew what he was doing, even in the dark—she tried not to think too carefully about that as she focused on the way he drew tight, small circles with his fingers. Over and over.

“Feyre,” he breathed. An absolution. She was surprised to hear him so close until his lips found her neck, laying a trail of devoted kisses from her shoulder to her collarbone.

A glowing chord inside her twisted tighter and tighter, fracturing every breath so they splintered at her lips. She could hardly speak, but in that surging euphoria she needed to return that feeling of devotion, of desperation and unbecoming and utter ruination.

As her pleasure crested, her fingers flew to his hair, burying her nails into his scalp as she gasped out, “Tamlin!”

The dream shattered.

Like a lashing whip, her body was ripped into the physical world, leaving her skin stinging against the winter chill, her chest rising and falling. Residual pleasure tremored down her spine, feeling so wrong in the absence of his warmth.

What had happened?

It was not yet day—though she could catch its embers on the horizon, warming the twilight sky.

The hearth was still on, chasing away the winter chill, which she supposed would have felt less invasive if she hadn’t kicked the blankets off the bed. The armchair, she noted, was empty. It’s occupant was nowhere to be seen—though by the sounds of retching from the bathing room, she had a decent guess as to where he’d gone.

Feyre tried to smother her resentment as she realized that her husband’s movements had likely woken her up, dragging her forcefully from sleep. Or maybe when her true love had warned her that his name couldn’t be spoken, he wasn’t being mysterious for the sake of it.

Either way, Feyre summoned enough pity to pad across the bedroom. She rapped her knuckles softly against the doorway, a small warning before she pushed the door open.

The only light came from the frosted window across the room and the hearth crackling at her back. It was enough to make out Rhysand, hunched over the sink. The porcelain caught in the moonlight, glowing a lovely ivory that stood in sharp contrast to the dark figure draped against it. His arms shook where they braced either side of the bowl and his knuckles, normally a tawny brown, sported four pale circles where they protruded against the skin.

He was gasping, black hair flopping across his forehead, stray pieces clinging to the damp collecting on his skin. It was hard to tell if he had been sweating or if he’d splashed water in his face, but either way he painted a portrait of a man so unkempt Feyre wouldn’t have recognised him from the Prince that had strode into her family’s manor days ago.

“I’m fine,” he said, before Feyre could ask.

He didn’t sound like it.

“You should go back to bed.”

She might have, if only because staying risked her husband believing that she cared. But the command, its abruptness, drove Feyre forward.

Rhysand laughed, soft and breathless. Resigned. “I suppose your father warned me you would never do as you’re told.”

Her father had likely said many things to try and dissuade the Prince from calling in the bargain. Feyre tried not to let that sting, but already she was a child picking at the scab, wondering at all the reasons her father might have painted Feyre as an unfavorable match. Until the wound was fresh again.

“You’re the one who wanted a bride, knowing nothing about her,” Feyre accused.

Rhysand shook his head. “Go to bed, Feyre.”

Suddenly Feyre’s spine forced her upright, not of her own will. She could feel the black ink coiling around her arm like a sentient creature, hissing its silent laughter as she was forced to turn, to walk back to the bedroom.

“Wait.”

She stopped. Then turned, finding her husband in the doorway. He clutched the frame, silver light pouring over his curved shoulders, clashing with the warmth of the fire that lit his face. Feyre could see, now, the red splotches sitting high on his cheekbones. Almost like he’d been crying.

“I’m sorry,” he said, tickling something in the back of her mind. “I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t a command.”

Feyre shifted on her feet, painfully aware of the night gown she wore. It felt too intimate to be dressed like this for his perusal, so soon after being held by her true love.

She crossed her arms. “It sounded like one.”

“I know,” Rhysand said ruefully. “And I will be more mindful of my wording.”

“Or you could release me from this bargain—from both of them.”

“And if I did,” he murmured, stepping into the bedroom. Feyre retreated a step, an unconscious reaction that the Prince certainly noticed. He was frowning as he stared at her feet, the way she yielded every stride. Feyre thought he might have cornered her all the way to the bed, but he stopped again at the armchair, tilting his head as he studied her. “Where would you go, princess?”

Feyre wondered that, too. She placed herself tentatively on the edge of the bed, watching him. “I suppose that depends. Would you let me go freely, or would I be on the run?”

She already knew the answer. He had said as much in the carriage. I would have searched as long as it would take to find you again. Because you are mine.

Mine.

Pinned beneath his gaze, that memory turned over and over. A spit in her mind, burning the longer he stared.

“Suppose, for the sake of the question, that you went freely.”

A careful way to answer.

She leaned forward to curve her arm around the bedpost, so sturdy she thought she might draw strength from it. Let the solid wood keep her upright as she steeled her nerves to ask, “Do you believe in true love?”

A piece of wood popped in the fireplace, erupting in a swarm of sparks. It was so loud in the smothering quiet. She could hear the wind whipping against the glass outside, cold and stolid as the man before her. He’d turned his head away, staring toward the fire like the noise had distracted him from answering.

“As one of my five questions,” Feyre pressed, heart thundering. “I want you to answer, do you believe in true love?”

It was a fool’s gamble, to waste one of her questions in the hope she could appeal to his empathy. But she’d seen him genuinely laugh, and just a moment ago he had seemed truly vulnerable. And perhaps he wasn’t so hardened by the North as the rumors would have her believe.

“Yes,” he said finally. To the fire. A secret he shared with the flame.

“If you freed me,” Feyre whispered, “I would find him. My true love.”

Rhysand turned to glance at her over his shoulder, a dark brow raised. “And you presume I’m not your true love?”

“I know that you aren’t.” Feyre had to grind her teeth through every syllable to keep her temper at bay. “I know that he is a kind man. He wouldn’t have held me to a bargain that was made by my father—”

“He wouldn’t have needed to,” Rhysand said. He grabbed a poker, thrusting it into the fire with more force than was necessary. Sparks burst beneath the iron prod, hot as the words that flew from his mouth. “You would have married him by convention. You would have praised him for using the bargain to take you away from that place. Tell me, Feyre, would you have viewed my actions so deplorable, if you perceived me as your true love?”

Feyre stared, watching him work the fire with a set jaw. She imagined he was angry that she would always belong to another man, connected to him in a way the ink on her arm could never erase.

“It does not matter,” Feyre insisted. “I find you deplorable because you are not him—because you took him from me and ruined my chances of marrying for love.”

The Prince seemed to contemplate that answer. “Sounds like a nice idea,” he said. “A pity for your true love that you are my wife now.”

My wife.

“A pity for me.” Feyre flopped backwards, glaring at the velvet drapes overhead. “I will be the one caged.”

Rhysand likely thought she didn’t notice the way his eyes drifted back towards the bed. “From the way I see things, you have been freed, Feyre. No more walls surround you.”

“A wall of stone or a ring of gold.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I see no difference between them.”

“Then you mistake the ring’s purpose.”

“It’s a claiming—“

“It’s a promise.”

Don’t look, she whispered to herself. But she was a traitor, turning her head to glimpse her husband standing before the dancing embers. The light caressed him, soft and warm, a match to the expression that swept his face. What’s the promise? She wanted to ask. But she could tell, by the look on his face, that the man who would answer was the same one who had bowed before her in the snow.

An answer from him was dangerous.

She wanted the man who had purposely intimidated an entire ballroom. The one who had tricked her into a second bargain. He was sharper with his words, easier to hate.

“When do we leave?” She asked instead, turning her head towards the window to see the purpling sky, already tangled with vines of orange and gold.

“You can take another hour or two of rest,” Rhysand answered. He straightened his sleeves, glancing at her one last time before he covered the distance to the door. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

The door shut before she could form a response. Feyre sighed, left marveling in the wake of their anger. She knew she should rest, but whenever she shut her eyes, burning violet stared back at her. Who had started the fight, again? He had looked… upset. But she had been so irritated that her dream was interrupted that she hadn’t stopped to care. But oddly enough, she cared now, enough to be curious. Enough to keep her from sleep, wondering what had bothered him while she absently watched the sun’s slow conquest across the sky.

Rhysand returned hours later, wearing what Feyre was certain was a new set of clothes. The cape slung over his shoulders he had certainly not left with. And Feyre remembered a flash of collarbone beneath his loosened collar, which was now freshly pressed, a fine black waistcoat buttoned over it.

His hair, at least, was still rumpled. Like he’d been threading his fingers through it.

“Good morning.”

He strode past the bed, hardly glancing towards her as he threw open the curtains to let in more of that oppressive light. Feyre groaned, burying her face into a pillow to mutter a string of complaints that would have sent her governess on a rampage.

Rhysand only laughed. “Would you like to have a bath before we leave?

Even beneath the warming sun, frost still curled against the glass at Rhysand’s back, and frozen hair would only make a miserable carriage ride all the more miserable. When she said as much, Rhysand went immediately to their trunks, withdrawing a dress she had never seen before.

“Did you bring that from the North?” she blurted.

He offered her a faint smile. “I assumed that my spring-bound bride wouldn’t have much in the way of winter dresses. Couldn’t have you freezing before we made it to my kingdom.”

Feyre took a moment to process that. The preparation that had been involved to have dresses made for her in advance. How many months ago had he decided he was ready to claim the youngest Archeron as his bride?

At least he’d done it with forethought. The woolen petticoat he’d brought was warm, though heavier than she was used to. The navy overdress was fur-lined, with silver eyelets at the back that she was certain Rhysand had chosen deliberately, so she would need to call him into the bathing room to clasp the bodice shut.

“Our clothing suits you,” he murmured, sweeping his eyes over the full length of the mirror. Feyre was staring, too, particularly at the decorative buttons sewn at the front, each stamped with the crest Rhysand had shown her yesterday. The skirts were ornamented around the bottom with an intricate golden border and above it the fabric had been pressed with flowers of the same rich color, stopping just below her knees.

She thought she truly looked like a princess of the North.

“You look beautiful,” Rhysand added, meeting her eyes in the glass.

Feyre pressed her lips together, saying nothing.

He raised his brows. “Another day of silent treatment?”

How the mirror did not splinter beneath those piercing eyes was a mystery. Feyre had to look away, certain she would be the thing cracking if she endured his assessment any longer.

Rhysand sighed. “Very well, then,” he said, before escorting her out of the inn.

She had only a moment to savor the glimpse of freshly laid snow before she was urged back into the wretched carriage. Like the day prior, she kept her gaze fixed towards the window. The alternative was facing her husband, who would either be amused or disappointed that they’d regressed back to silence.

Feyre wasn’t prepared to confront either, though she imagined his expression in his head all the same. She could feel him watching her, swore her skin warmed beneath his stare, like she was sitting beneath a shaft of sunlight. Fortunately, she didn’t need to weather the unrequited glances very long.

Hardly an hour into their journey, the gilded carriage bumped to a stop. Peering out the window, Feyre could make out the tips of colorful tents, pitched row after row. Smoke stacks rose among them, heat rising to defy the ceaseless cold, twining like lovers with the drifting snow crystals.

Rhysand opened the door to a blast of frosted air and Feyre leaned into it, her curiosity outweighing the sting on her cheeks.

“Where are we?”

“A market,” he answered, sliding gracefully out of the carriage. He extended his arm to help her out and when she resisted, he grabbed her by the elbow anyway, murmuring, “Careful—it’s slippery.”

Feyre didn’t believe him until she touched the ground and found her foot sliding, unable to find traction against the slick surface. She yelped, falling forward, and the Prince immediately slid an arm around her waist to steady her.

“What is this?”

“Ice,” he said, and she could tell he was holding in a laugh. “We’re standing on a river.”

That was such a fascinating answer that Feyre could embrace their proximity. She continued clutching onto him for balance so she could use her foot to brush the powdery snow aside, revealing the solid ice beneath them, swirling like clouds over the dark blue water.

“A river,” she repeated, her breath condensing in the cold as it fled her lips. Her eyes roved back to the rows of tents, the sheer number of people walking around them, gathered around great fires that suddenly seemed impossible. “They’re holding a market over a river? It won’t… it won’t break? Or—melt?”

“Neither,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Is it magic?”

“No.” He tugged gently at her waist, taking a confident step backwards on the ice in an effort to move her closer to the tents. “Come, see for yourself.”

Feyre stared for a long moment at their feet, trying to process how to move without falling.

“It’s okay to hold on to me,” he added. “I assure you, the only type of falling I’ll allow my wife to be doing is—”

“Don’t start,” she snapped, venturing a step forward so she could slap his arm.

He was grinning, unbothered by the slap and, if anything, pleased to have Feyre so close. The thumb at her hip began drawing a small circle as he purred, “It’s like you’ve been walking on ice your whole life.”

A blatant lie, given how effortlessly the patrons around them seemed to be moving. No other women looked to be hanging on to their husband’s for support, but Feyre didn’t feel confident enough to let go. Even as she loathed the way Rhysand’s lips tilted into a smirk, far too satisfied with the excuse to be touching.

They slowly made their way into the market, soon enveloped by the hollars of peddlers and tradesmen trying to sell their wares. It was much like the marketplace she and her sisters used to attend on the rare occasion they needed a dress fitted, though there was a crackling energy to this market that was incomparable.

And more importantly, she was permitted to look anywhere she wanted. None of the passersby spared many glances on Feyre, despite her fine clothes and despite the Prince at her side. There were more intriguing things to focus on, like the roasting of an entire ox and the tents selling warmed alcohol.

A crowd was gathered around a man contorting his body into unnatural positions and Feyre stopped to stare with them, mouth agape.

“Magic?” She asked quietly.

“Could be,” Rhysand murmured, unexpectedly close to her ear. “Or perhaps the fellow is just extraordinarily flexible.”

They carried on, passing more performers. A man swallowing swords, another breathing fire.

“Magic?”

“Hard to say.”

There was a group of musicians playing beside a large wooden platform, where couples gathered to swing each other about. Not the same ballroom dancing she was accustomed to. Something looser, more carefree. Feyre watched a woman with unbound hair twirl and twirl and twirl, her laughter puffing into the air around her, visible proof of her joy as the music twisted in time with her skirts.

“Care to dance?” Rhysand asked, smile nothing short of devilish.

“Can we dance like that?”

As royalty, perhaps they weren’t allowed. Held to a different standard—

“We can dance however you’d like,” he said, already guiding her towards the platform.

Higher up, she had a better view of the market. She could see children playing games, tossing balls at stacked bottles. There was a man standing beside a large, colorful wheel. It was too far away to see what was written on each painted section, but she watched them blur together as the man gave it a hearty push.

Then Rhysand was turning her, reclaiming her attention with those infuriatingly bright eyes. A snowflake caught on one of his lashes, many more landing on his hair before melting into the inky strands, and she hated how badly she wished she could capture the moment in a painting.

He smiled in response to her staring, a smart comment inevitably on the tip of his tongue, but Feyre didn’t wait for what he had to say. The fiddlers had picked up the pace and she grabbed her husband's hands, surprising even herself. All she knew was that the music burst around them, upbeat and lively, and that her body simply moved, pulling Rhysand with her into the thrall of dancing bodies. Clapping and hopping and swinging in time.

There were whoops from the other dancers and the patrons that passed, spurring her onward. Feyre danced until she was gasping for breath, left swallowing the cold winter air with abandon, and the whole time Rhysand was beside her, only letting go to let her spin and spin and spin and—just when she was dizzy from it, he caught her with laughter etched on his face, the sound dispelling into a cloud of frost.

He looked so different from the Prince she had danced with at the ball. He was equally lithe and graceful, but this Rhysand was filled with light and life and joy. It shone in his eyes, so infectious she found herself laughing, too.

And that only made his smile wider. “That’s my new favorite sound.” He leaned closer, until the clouds of their breath mingled. “I want to hear it again.”

Her laughter? It wasn’t the sort of thing someone could do on command—

Feyre shrieked as he lifted her by the hips, spinning them around. “Brute!” she shouted, but she could feel the wind lift her hair and saw the other dancers cheer and the laughter erupted from her anyway. “Put me down!”

Rhysand obeyed, setting her back on her feet with a guilty chuckle. She grasped the lapels of his overcoat, leaning in to be heard over the music.

“You are a fiend!”

“I believe the proper term is Prince,” he crooned. “Though for the lucky few—husband.”

“They all mean the same to me,” she said, breathless.

“Precisely.”

The music lulled and Rhysand helped her off the platform, his breath just as short as her own. One of the musicians grinned at her as she looked over, clapping his hands for the dancers coming off the platform. The fiddle in his lap continued playing, even with his hands removed from the instrument.

She blinked. “Magic?”

“It felt like it,” Rhysand murmured. He still held her hand in his own, which he raised to his mouth to leave a kiss against her gloved knuckles. “Would you like to see more?”

Feyre peered down the rows of tents—so many that they could spend the entire day at the market and still not see everything. Vendors passed by, selling baked gingerbread and skewered meats and one of them, a woman with a crystal ball swearing she could see the future.

“Please,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I want to see it all.”

#As the River Flows #AtRF #Feysand #Feysand fic #Feysand fanfic #Feysand fanfiction #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x Feyre #Feyre x Rhysand #Rhysand x Feyre

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thebroccolination · 2 years

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Between Us the Series!

It’s real! It’s happening!

Gosh, what a thing.

Waiting throughout a global pandemic, never knowing when it would happen, or what it would look like. Watching BounPrem repeatedly entreat their fans not to leave them and then apologize that they had nothing to offer except gratitude that people were staying with them anyway. There was a time we didn’t even know who would be cast for Wan and View! We didn’t even know what they’d be like as characters, really! Wan was in a few novel scenes, but View only had one!

We hardly knew anything at all about WinTeam’s parents. In the novel, Win’s mom seems lovely, but Team only has a phone call with his mom that didn’t reveal anything important about her as a person. We had no idea Team’s parents would be among the warmest and most loving in the Thai BL parent pantheon.

We didn’t know how long the series would span, and whether it’d surpass UWMA’s timeline or not. We didn’t know, and still don’t know, how it’ll end. Because the novel is incomplete. So we knew enough going in to expect certain scenes from the novel, but far from everything.

I just woke up and immediately had this out-of-body memory to summer of 2021 and winter of 2020 and spring of 2020 before we had confirmation. And I remember trying to imagine what we’d get when the time finally came. Watching BounPrem get closer and trust each other more and more, knowing they’d put everything they had into the roles and that, no matter what else, the series would be iconic because of their passion and devotion.

And they did. They channeled so much energy and thought and feeling into WinTeam. Requested retakes until it became a story to tell social media, determined to get as close to perfection as possible. Even paying for an add-on scene after filming wrapped because there are some things in life that you want to carry with you forever, and sometimes you have to go above and beyond to make those things happen.

It just feels wonderful to be living through the airing of a series I had such high hopes for. A series that’s long-since surpassed all of them. 🤍

My baaaaaaayhayhayhaybeeeeEEEES 😭😭😭

#between us the series #between us #winteam #teamwin #good morning here are my emotions today

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greypetrel · 10 months

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Find the Word Tag Game

I was tagged by @shivunin to find in my wips risk, swing and soft and post the section where they appear.

Meheheheheh thank you, it's been fun and for once I have everything! (Or well, I had to quickly add a swing, but it was there so it's fiiiine).

I tag in my turn to find the words warm, fingers and water in your wips: @deerna @theluckywizard @rowanisawriter @melisusthewee and YOU!

risk

This is DadWolf material from a prompt. I'm not sure whether I'll keep this prompt, but it'll stay in the fic. Aisling is in Kirkwall to research red lyrium, fun times.

“If you knew how to do my work better than me, I wouldn’t be here.” She snapped back before Varric could stop her. She stood up -even with the thick soles of her combat boots, he’s still that much taller. She forgot just how tall Cullen was. “I know what I’m doing, I know the risks as I know my job, I have qualifications for doing it or I wouldn’t be here. If you intend on preventing me from doing it, just say the word and I’ll be on the next plane to Minrathous and that much happier, before you can silence me again.”

swing:

I wanted to write something winter-fest themed. But then someone spoke of a Moby Dick/Dragon Age crossover and well. I'm at 3000 words and ongoing, we have only one bed but I'm building towards them actually sharing it.

He should find a house of his own. Something small, with the pay he now got, he could certainly afford it. Somehow, tho, he only remembered when the day was over, she was curling in her hammock and giggling as she said something particularly silly and he retaliated by pushing at it with a foot, making her swing to and fro. It was late, he would smile at her giggling, and blow off the candles so they could get to sleep. He woke up from nightmares, and the idea of being alone in a room, without her silhouette still visible in the dim light of the embers in the fireplace, the quiet noise of her gentle breath, and if he was lucky, her face peeking from the canvas, the blankets and the pillow she was curled between, mouth open and drooling from one corner, was as unbearable to him as the idea of getting back on a boat.

soft:

Going finally on with the Dark Lady fic. It's a crossover heavy time.

They rose together, Cullen helped her, and went on walking amongst trees enclosed and carefully cared for, flowers waiting for Spring to finally arrive to bloom, and perfectly trimmed lawns that she walked upon, spreading her bare toes in the soft grass. She kept refusing shoes and socks alike. She spun tales for him and asked for his opinion, in a practiced game.

Is this too much cullavellan? I swear I looked in the Origins wip but nothing was found. Unsurprisingly, Alyra doesn't have "soft" in her fic. I wonder why xD

#tag game #tagged petrel #find the word tag #writing petrel #cullavellan #too many aus to tag #... there's nothing canon in here? OH WELL #dragon age #dragon age fic #dragon age crossover

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boba-at-323 · 2 years

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Four Seasons

Summary: Giving a piano performance in front of a huge crowd has always been your dream, and you never knew how bad you were at playing the instrument when you started taking lessons at school. However, little did you know that the new, quiet and shy boy would help make your dreams come true. Word count: 9.565K Note: One swear word, food mentioned || Part of the dream chronicles collab! Genre : Fluff, Some angst, strangers to friends to lovers au (?), high school - university au, slice of life, somewhat coming of age ???

The spring air welcomed itself into the campus, carrying with it the sweet scent of daffodils and lilies. The birds settled in the nearby trees, chirping merrily amongst themselves. The buzzing sound of the students catching up to each other after their winter breaks could be heard from miles away, some complaining about how the school should’ve extended the holidays while the others had already started planning out their study timetables.

You crossed the entrance gate alone, clutching on to the bag hanging off from your shoulders tightly. You thought to yourself that this time, you would try even harder to get better grades than you achieved during the last semester. It wasn’t even like you were failing or anything. You were one of the top students in your class, you had an almost perfect grade if it wasn’t for your piano classes.

Ah yes, Piano classes. The class you looked forward to the most when you got to know that the school offered piano lessons. However, little did you know that your most anticipated class would become your worst nightmare, the reason your perfect grades would become… well, imperfect.

You passed the hallways mindlessly, lost in your thoughts. It was only when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your mind travelled back to the real world.

“Hey, Y/N!”, your eyes met the owner of the voice, “Lost in thought again now, are we?”

“Hey Donghyuck,” you smiled at the boy standing in front of you, “I missed you!”

“Oh?? The Y/N? Missing me? Am I dreaming?” He dramatically gasped, pretending to pinch himself to check whether he was dreaming or not.

“Shut it, Hyuck.” You rolled your eyes at him playfully, giggling at his witty antics.

“Aww…I missed you too.” He engulfed you in a bear hug, nearly suffocating you.

The ear-piercing ringing of the school bell indicated the start of your school day, interrupting your precious reunion.

“Guess we better get going,” he suggested grinning, “Don’t wanna be late for the first class of the first semester!”

“Quick before we lose the best seats–” you laughed making your way towards your classroom.

You waited impatiently for each class to end, glancing at the wall clock hanging above the chalkboard every now and then. Even though you weren’t doing very well, learning how to play the piano had been a dream of yours since you had been a mere toddler. The thought of you playing flawlessly in front of a whole audience with your fingers dancing over the black and white keys delicately, caused a rush of adrenaline throughout your body. On top of that, you weren’t one of the people who would give up just because they weren't getting something right.

No, no… You were far away from those people. You thought that your weaknesses could become your strength. If you focused more on something you weren't good at, you knew you could make it something you were great at. All it required was a bit of practice overtime. But that was where the problem arose, you couldn’t practise overtime.

The handful of students taking piano lessons with you had some sort of access to pianos, making it possible for them to make their skills flawless by practising as much as they could. You, however, had been the only student without a piano at home.

Everyday on your walk back to home from school, you would look for a piano when you crossed the city’s only instrument gallery. However, to your dismay, there was never a grand piano there. The middle-aged man who owned the store always told you that people these days were, surprisingly, more into making music online than spending their money by buying actual instruments and learning on them.

One faithful day, while passing by the same fancy instrument shop, you had seen the most majestic grand piano waiting gracefully behind the display window. That was the moment you decided that you simply wanted the exact one, it was fated to be with you.

You spent the next few days trying to come up with very compelling reasons to convince your mom and dad. But even though you had been successful in convincing your parents to buy you the one, all your efforts in making the whole powerpoint went to waste when you saw the “sold” sign sitting innocently on top of the piano.

Oh, how it mocked you.

You were gloomy and sad for a few days but Donghyuck had been a great source of comfort. He joked around and tried to take your mind off of it by talking about how “it wasn't the end of the world”. At times like those, you were thankful you had a friend like Donghyuck by your side.

The ringing of the school bell again indicated the end of your class. You hurriedly shoved your belongings back into your bag and rushed to the class you had been waiting for. You embarrassingly smiled when you heard Donghyuck shout a good luck phrase for you along with a chuckle before you left your class.

Waiting for your teacher to arrive, you caught up with the rest of the students who had been sharing piano lessons with you. Despite not being friends with anyone, it was nice to know that they had been practising. You never envied them, though. Instead, you were always proud that they were doing so well.

Your chatting was brought to an end when a sweet looking lady entered the room. She was Ms.Yang, your piano teacher who seemed like the most patient woman you had ever met.

“Good morning students!” she cheerfully greeted, clapping her hands, “It’s so nice to have you all back! Let’s start the class with two exciting announcements!

“First of all, our school has been invited to the city’s annual inter school music competition! And I’m proud to announce that the headmaster put me in charge after those observation classes last year, he was impressed with all of you the most! You all deserve a round of applause for yourselves, well done!”

The pattering sound of the claps filled the air, as Ms.Yang smiled with pride.

“Now, for my second announcement! Everyone, we have a new student joining our class, so please make him feel welcomed! Dear, please come inside!”

A small boy entered the classroom nervously, you could tell because of how he was fidgeting his fingers and had his head hung. His dark hair fell over his forehead, hiding his eyes. He also had a mask on, so his features were barely visible. He had his earphones plugged out, but they still hung over his ears. He was emitting a very dark aura, but that was probably because of all the black clothing he had on.

“Dear, please introduce yourself!” Ms.Yang put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Hi-hi! My name is Park Jisung…” the boy squeaked, taking his mask off.

When his full face was in view, along with his timid gestures, you couldn’t help but think about how cute he was.

“...I’m new here…” Jisung mumbled, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“Thank you Jisung dear,” Ms.Yang continued, “Why don’t you have a seat? Sit anywhere you like! We have to begin class soon!”

Jisung nodded and followed her words. Making his way to the furthest end of the class, he sat next to a boy named Huang Renjun. Renjun was one of the people who played the piano best, one of those students who could be labelled as true pianists. He smiled at Jisung, introduced himself and shuffled to the side so that Jisung could sit next to him.

The thing which you didn’t notice was how your eyes followed him till the end. When your gaze met his, you quickly looked away blushing at how embarrassing it must have been to catch someone staring at you.

Ms.Yang distributed amongst everyone a new piano sheet for a song you had never practised before. In fact, this song was one you weren’t even familiar with. A wave of anxiousness rushed through your body, but you tried to shake it off.

It’s okay. I can do this. We just started.

Ms.Yang took out the attendance sheet, and started calling out names of the students one by one so that they got their turn on the instrument. When you saw that the others were making a few mistakes, you calmed yourself down. At least you won’t be the only one who would mess up.

One after another, all the students played and made subtle mistakes, Renjun being the only one receiving an applause since he played flawlessly. With a sheepish smile on his face, he thanked everyone and went back to his seat.

“Okay,” Ms.Yang said, checking the attendance sheet, “Next we have… Y/N!”

You almost leapt at the sound of your name. Gulping, you started making your way towards the piano sitting near Ms.Yang’s table.

“It’s okay, Y/N!” Ms.Yang smiled at you reassuringly when she saw your hands shaking slightly, “Everyone makes mistakes, dear.”

You returned her the smile, seating yourself on the little, black stool waiting for you. You placed the piano sheet in front of you, and placed your fingers on top on the monochrome keys waiting to be played. Taking a deep breath, you finally started to play.

However, your gut feeling was correct. Your performance must have been the worst out of all the students who had played yet, and that made you feel miserable about yourself.

Once you finished, you muttered a brief apology and rushed back to your place without making eye contact with anyone, trying to hide your face which had turned scarlet due to the dreadful performance you gave. You couldn’t see yourself, but the heat you felt in your cheeks was enough to warn you about your reddened state.

Wow, talk about first impressions, you thought to yourself, nearly groaning out loud.

“That was a very good try!” Ms.Yang encouraged, trying to make you feel better. She knew you were a gifted student, all you needed was extra practice.

“Jisung dear, do you want to try?” Ms.Yang continued, hoping to change the subject.

Jisung looked around, and then quietly nodded. He walked past everyone with his head still hung and sat on the stool. When Ms.Yang handed him the sheet, he scanned it thoroughly and started playing.

And once he did, the whole class fell silent. For a new kid, he did an extremely good job. After Renjun, he had been the only one to play the song perfectly. You weren’t the only one who had their jaw dropped, nearly half the class was as surprised as you were. Even Ms.Yang seemed to have been taken aback slightly by how well he played. Maybe it was because of his appearance that everyone didn’t expect much from him.

“Very well done, Jisung!” Ms.Yang complimented him when he ended the song magnificently.

He shyly mumbled something which seemed like a thank you, and dismissed himself back to his original place.

The bell rang for the last time, declaring that it was time for everyone to pack their things and head home.

Placing the sheet neatly between your books, you stood up to leave the class as soon as you could.

“Hey Y/N,” you turned to face Renjun, “Mistakes are how we learn. You’ll eventually get there!”

“Thank you Renjun, that means a lot.” You passed him a smile. You also saw Jisung following Renjun close behind.

“You did good.” Jisung said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Jisung…” you smiled at him as well, “But you were great! I’d love to see you around!”

He mumbled another meek thank you, and followed Renjun out.

Cute, you thought to yourself.

“So, how did it go?” Donghyuck asked when you met him outside the school gates.

“Awful.” You groaned, shuddering at the thought of the mess you made.

“Hey, hey!” he spoke when he saw your frown, “It’s only the first day! And it’s okay… though I swear if my family house was in this city, I’d let you play my piano for as long as you wished. You know what? Let’s get ice cream. That should cheer you up!”

“You always know what to do.” Your eyes twinkled at his suggestion, “Thanks Hyuck”

“Always for you” he beamed.

“You know a new student joined us today,” you remembered as the both of you made your way towards the ice cream parlour nearby.

He hummed in response, but it hinted at a questioning tone.

“Yeah.. He was very quiet and shy, but he was cute.” you smiled thinking about Jisung.

“Oo~ Y/N” he nudged you with his elbow, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up, Hyuck. Don’t make it weird.” you said in annoyance.

“Sure~” He teased, entering the shop with you.

You both chose your respective ice cream flavours, paid and left.

“But anyways, he was really good at playing the piano.” your mind went back to the moment which took place a while ago, “like, Renjun-level good.”

“Renjun level good?” he raised his eyebrows at the comparison, “Damn he must be good.”

“He was! But you know something even weirder,” you continued, “both of them cheered me on when the class ended.”

“I mean, you have a talent you know,” he stated as if in fact, licking his ice cream, “And if, according to you, two of the best pianists in the class complimented you, then I’m sure you’ll do good.”

“Yeah… I hope.” you wished, thinking about what life might have planned for you.

But what life had planned for you, was beyond your imagination.

The clear blue skies arrived, with a sudden temperature rise. The trees bore their fruit, ripe and juicy while the green leaves danced with the warm barely-blowing winds. Summer brought itself to the city, bringing along with it torment and dejection.

Why? Because you had never done so poorly in your fifteen-year life. Other subjects were going fine as usual, but for some reason, your piano playing skills seemed to be deteriorating more and more each passing week. It was bothering you beyond words, and even Donghyuck’s words weren’t of much help. And that barely ever happened! Not to mention the pressure of the competition coming closer and closer. Everything was just so scrambled and disordered, it caused a discord inside you.

But with each piano lesson, you grew fonder of Jisung. Even though you barely spoke to each other, you started to see his true colours. Levelling up from being Renjun’s seatmate to his friend, you noticed that he would never stop talking. His physical appearance contrasted his personality because he was someone very lively and pure-hearted. You could overhear their conversations at times, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how abstract his mind was. Along with how graceful he looked every time you witnessed him play the piano, it only made you wonder about how it might be to know him. In all honesty, you started to think that you might have developed a crush on him, at least that’s what Hyuck kept on telling you.

As you packed your things hastily after the piano class, you were startled when Ms.Yang approached you.

“Y/N dear, I hope you aren’t in a hurry or anything, I have something to discuss.” She said, in a concerned tone.

“No, Ms.Yang,” blood rushed down your face, as if you’d seen a ghost. You knew exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.

“Dear, I have to be honest with you…” she bit her bottom lip, “As you might have figured out already, you aren’t doing quite well. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I have to tell you that you only have a few weeks remaining, dear. You’re one of my most gifted students, and I see great potential in you. I just hope the stars align for you soon. Just try harder Y/N, you’ll do wonderful in no time! I hope you understand what I’m trying to convey.”

“Yes Ms.Yang,” you mumbled, fighting back your tears.

Ms.Yang smiled at you sympathetically before leaving you alone in the class. Alone was what you thought you were.

When Ms.Yang left the class, you broke down into tears hiding your face with your hands. That was the nail in the coffin, you could never learn how to play the piano properly. All your dreams were crumbling leaving you in shambles. Even Donghyuck was out of the city for a while, making you feel more alone than you had ever been.

“No, no… Please don’t cry!” You heard a panicked voice next to you.

Your head shot up to see who had been unlucky enough to watch you have a mental breakdown after your series of pathetic performances.

“J-Jisung?” you quickly wiped your tears away when you saw the alarmed expression on his face, “Oh my- I’m so sorry, you shouldn't have seen this.”

“No it’s okay,” he said in his same quiet tone, “I…Um..”

The boy looked around vulnerably, both confused and awkward. He wanted to help you but he just didn’t know how to, especially since he wasn’t very familiar with you. He wanted to know what was going on with you, because apparently, Renjun had told him that you were actually one of the best and most eager-to-learn pianists when you had started taking classes in the beginning.

“Um... I’m sorry but I kinda heard the conversation you just had…” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

Great, you thought as you wished you disappeared off of the face of the Earth, just great.

“Well…” he continued, “I was wondering if you’d like me to, I don’t know… help you out?”

“I appreciate your offer Jisung, but I’m more than helpless at this point.” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to calm yourself down and just accept the reality of your failure.

“I could help you practise out of school hours…” he continued. Something in him told him that it was him who had to become your saviour.

“Wait–” You looked up to him, “Do you really mean it?”

“I mean… If you’re up for it, I’d be glad to be of any help. It’s not like I have much to do anyways” His voice lowered when he spoke the last sentence, making sure it wasn’t audible to you.

“Would you like to practise at my house?” He asked silently.

“As in right now?” You asked, startled at his sudden offer.

“I’m not weird or anything I swear!” he justified quickly before you got the wrong idea, “I just want to help…”

“I could really use some extra practice, Jisung. I’d be greatly thankful if I got to do so!” Your enthusiasm was back, and it seemed like Jisung was relieved that you had decided to trust him.

“Let's go then!” he said a bit too excitedly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle when you giggled at keenness.

“Make yourself at home.” Jisung said as he took off his shoes at the entrance. You copied his actions as you looked around the unfamiliar place.

“Mom! I’m home!” That was the first time you had heard Jisung use a loud tone.

“Welcome ho– Jisung! I didn’t know you were bringing guests over!” You saw Mrs.Park scuttle out of the kitchen.

“Hello Mrs.Park!” You bowed when she came to greet you.

“Oh no, honey! Auntie will do just fine!” she smiled sweetly, “I’m so sorry I don't think I caught your name!”

“I’m Y/N.” you glanced at Jisung, who seemed embarrassed.

“Welcome dear! Please make yourself at home, and Jisung do inform me before you have friends over! I barely have anything prepared!” Mrs.Park continued, looking at Jisung as if he’d forgotten something important.

“Oh no Auntie, there is no need for the formalities” you smiled at her.

“I’ll tell you next time, sorry mom.” Jisung apologised and turned to you, “I’ll show you to my room. Come on.”

His house wasn’t so big, but felt very comfortable. It was possibly because of how both Jisung and his mom made you feel welcome. However, you had never seen a room like Jisung’s before. The piano in the corner of your room caught your attention, followed by the pc standing opposite to it (which you supposed he used for gaming). He also had a guitar next to the piano, and a lot of albums of different artists resting on the shelves. A large tapestry filled with stars and planets hung above his bed. It seemed like he had everything in the world in his room, yet it didn’t seem like it was messy.

“Wow” your words left your mouth quicker than you could think.

“It’s not much but yeah, you want to start?” he asked, throwing his bag on top of the bed in another corner of the room.

“I’d love that.” You followed him, placing your bag next to his.

You could hear the birds chirping some merry tune amongst themselves when Jisung opened the window. lt felt like a wisp of magic, even if the sun was blazing through your pale, slightly freckled face, the grass blades being the most vibrant shade of green, with eruptions of beautiful daisies, as well as seeded plants of gorgeous purple flowers which you probably couldn’t name in his house garden. For a moment, you forgot about how gloomy your day had been.

“Y/N? Are you ready?” Jisung’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh– yeah, Yeah I’m ready!” You grinned, seating yourself on the piano stool waiting for you.

Once you started playing, your blunders made a comeback. You sighed in frustration, backing away for a while. Noticing this, Jisung sat next to you on the stool and showed you how to play the correct keys.

“Continue playing, I’ll help with this side,” he said, focused on the keys.

What he didn’t notice, however, was how your cheeks had turned red from the sudden contact. You felt butterflies in your stomach and the fuzzy feeling was back.

You didn’t stop for a long while. Every now and then, Jisung corrected you whenever you made a mistake, but after a few hours, you felt yourself playing better already.

“My fingers are cramped.” you showed him your fingers, gasping dramatically.

Jisung laughed at your action. His adorable laugh made you join him. He was actually very refreshing to be around. You didn’t think someone like Jisung could be so talkative, even if you did catch him chatting with Renjun. He really was different from what he was at school.

You continued talking to him for a while, getting to know him better, but then you saw the clock which showed five in the afternoon.

“I guess I’d better get going,” you said standing up, “It’s getting late. Thank you once again for everything Jisung!”

“Anytime! Same time tomorrow?” he asked, standing up with you.

“Same time tomorrow!” you echoed his words.

“I’ll look forward to that…” he said in his usual quiet tone, making you feel funny.

Did you actually have feelings for him? Someone you barely knew?

Shaking the feeling away, you picked up your bag and made your way out with Jisung accompanying you. You thanked Mrs.Park, bidding both of them goodbye and then made your way back home.

Something in your gut told you that this was going to be one of your best decisions ever.

“No way, really?” Donghyuck asked surprised as he walked to school with you.

“Yes really! And I’ve been visiting his house for a whole month now, believe me I’ve gotten so much better because he lets me play for as long as I want to!” You updated him with your whole Jisung situation.

“Damn…Looks like I got replaced in only a month.” He faked a frown as you chuckled at his melodramatic response.

“No one can ever replace you Hyuck,” you reassured him, “But yeah I’ve gotten closer to him… and I think you’re right. I might have developed a tiny crush on him…”

“Look Y/N, I’m always right.” he smirked, receiving an eye roll from you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” It was his turn to laugh at your reaction.

“Hey Y/N!” You and Donghyuck, both turned to the familiar voice.

“Oh– Hi…” Jisung said when he met you.

“Hey Jisung, this is Donghyuck,” you pointed at the boy standing besides you, who warmly smiled, “Hyuck, this is Jisung!”

“Hello Jisung, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Donghyuck extended his hand forward, offering a shake.

“Likewise.” he took Donghyucks hand.

“So Y/N, are you excited for the assessment today?” Jisung continued as the three of you made your way into the halls.

“Nervous is a more fitting word Jisung” you sighed thinking about the test in a few hours.

A week before, Ms.Yang had announced that she would be evaluating the students as the music competition was arriving soon. You had spent countless hours with Jisung since then, practising as much as you could. There was a point where you rehearsed so much that Jisung would ask you to stop before your fingers fell off.

“Hey! It’s okay… You’ve gotten so much better. I’m positive the practice won’t go to waste!” Jisung recalled all the days he had spent preparing with you.

“Yeah Y/N…even though I have no idea, I agree with Jisung here. Practice never goes to waste!” Donghyuck agreed with whatever was going on.

“Thank you guys, I’m glad to have such supportive friends,” thanking them, you took out your books from your locker.

“Hey Donghyuck!” An unfamiliar voice called for Donghyuck.

You saw a group of boys waving at Donghyuck, his friends from his other classes.

“Coming, Jaemin!” Donghyuck shouted back, “Well Y/N… Guess I gotta go! Break a leg today!”

“Thanks Hyuck.” You hugged him before he left with his friends.

“So…” Jisung continued when Donghyuck was gone, “See you later?”

“Yeah, see you.” you trailed off.

Entering the class, you could see all the amateur pianists rehearsing; some going through their music sheets, while the others moved their fingers over nothing, playing the tunes on mute.

“Okay places everyone!” Ms.yang said entering the class with the same attendance sheet and a few more papers.

“I’m sad to say this, but only three students will be selected from you all. But not to worry! I know all of you will get an opportunity to shine one day or another. Shall we begin?”

“Yes Ms.Yang!” The whole class chimed, in unison.

Just three?!

Your brain suddenly felt hazy, grasping the situation. Here, in a class of twenty five students, most of which played bloody brilliantly, probably practised individually like they were a child prodigy.

There was no chance.

Every student played when Ms.Yang called their names out. You waited anxiously, biting your lip as your leg bounced up and down continuously. Today was not a day to mess up, Hyuck and Jisung were right, all the practice shouldn’t go to waste. Your mind went back to all the days you spent working hard with Jisung, you remembered his proud smile when you got the whole song in one go. That helped you calm down a bit.

Jisung was done after the first few students, being the only one who received an applause so far. Then came Renjun, who flawlessly nailed the performance, getting his usual cheer from the whole class room.

“Y/N dear, it’s your turn!” Ms.Yang said cheerfully. Even she had noticed that you had gotten considerably better.

Making your way to the piano, Renjun gave you a thumbs-up and small “Good Luck” when he crossed you going back to his seat with Jisung. You steadied yourself, muttering a soft thank you and seated yourself. The scene of your semester’s first day repeated itself in your head. The fear of screwing everything up badly was back. You felt yourself getting dragged back into the never-ending hole of failure. But when you looked around and saw Jisung, all your thoughts vanished into thin air.

Jisung sat impatiently, praying that his new friend would do her absolute best, that all the time he spent with you in his house would prove to be fruitful. When his eyes met yours, he smiled at you encouragingly and mouthed,

You got this.

As if on cue, your fingers met the piano keys. Gliding over them gently, you played like there was no tomorrow. It was now or never. The whole world fell silent, the only thing you heard was the music you played. You had never been this absorbed in playing, and it was all thanks to Jisung.

Coming to a perfect finish, you let out your breath which you had been holding for long. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the thunderous sound of everyone clapping. You’d almost forgotten that you were still in front of an audience.

“Y/N dear that was marvellous!” Ms.Yang clapped excitedly. It was for the first time you had seen her so proud.

You bowed to everyone, showing your gratitude and made your way back to your place. A satisfied feeling took over you when you saw Jisung smiling ear to ear. It really was because of him you had done so well, all the credit went to him.

After some more student’s performances, Ms.Yang ended the class with an ovation for everyone who had played.

“I’m pretty sure we all agree on who is going to make it to the finals! Everyone, another round of applause for Renjun, Jisung, Y/N!! Well done, I’ll be seeing you all tomorrow. Have a safe trip home everyone!” She cheered.

“Y/N! Congratulations!” Jisung came to where you were seated, “That was amazing!”

“Yeah, Y/N. That was incredible!” Renjun grinned.

“Thank you guys! Congrats to you all as well, but in all honesty, if it weren’t for Jisung’s help, I would’ve stuck to my pathetic performances!” You turned to Jisung, who was blushing slightly.

“Hey.. It’s nothing really.” He mumbled embarrassed by the sudden attention.

“Well… Let’s see each other around more often now.” Renjun suggested leaving with Jisung who bid you farewell.

You packed your things and rushed out of the class, hoping to find Donghyuck. Your brain was already forming a plan on pulling a prank on him.

“So? How did it go?” Donghyuck asked you expectantly, meeting you at the school gates.

“I blew it…” you didn't make eye contact with him, pretending to sniffle.

“Don’t cry Y/N!” He spoke suddenly, terrified because you barely cried “Hey it’s okay, maybe it was for the best!”

The poor boy was beyond puzzled when you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Just kidding!” you looked up at him, eyes sparkling at your success in scaring him, “I got selected! Along with Jisung and Renjun! The best players in class!”

“For real?” Donghyuck asked, not believing his ears.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You jumped, taking his hands in yours.

“Y/N! I’m so happy for you!” He smiled widely at your victory, “We should go have ice cream to celebrate.”

“Actually Hyuck, I think Jisung deserves this more than I do. Mind if I invite him over?” you suggested, hoping you wouldn’t ruin his plan.

“Not at all! The more the merrier!” Donghyuck answered, still smiling proudly.

“Great!” You clapped your hands together, “I’ll go find him!”

Luckily, when you both saw Renjun and Jisung approaching the gates, Donghyuck ran to them and invited them over to celebrate their selection. They both were joyful and accepted your offer. That day forward, you and Donghyuck became closer to Jisung and Renjun, becoming very good friends. You got to spend more time with Jisung, and seeing his different colours, you couldn’t help but fall for him harder.

You were sure you liked him.

The dry leaves painted the grounds various shades of brown, orange and yellow. The once fruit bearing trees stood tall with emi-exposed branches, the weak leaves continuing to dispose of themselves with each blow of the chilly air.

You barely slept that night, excitement of the coming day keeping you awake. The big day was finally here. Staying at school till afternoon with Jisung and Renjun accompanying you, Ms.Yang made you practise till you could play the song selected for the competition with your eyes closed. But no matter how many times you played the song, you never got tired of it. Donghyuck also visited sometimes, bringing along with him all sorts of snacks, occasionally getting a light-hearted scolding by Ms.Yang.

Once you saw the sun rays peeking through your closed curtains, you got up and started to get ready for your day ahead. You were nervous, delighted but most of all prepared. For once in your life, you were confident. And it was all due to your supportive friends and your wonderful teacher.

When you reached the venue, you did not imagine it to be this big. Eyes scanning the auditorium, you saw many unfamiliar faces, guessing they were performers from other schools. You quietly made your way backstage, clutching carefully onto the bag filled with the stuff you needed. If it wasn’t for your mom, you would’ve forgotten the bag at home, messing up everything all over again.

You saw Ms.Yang explaining something to the staff members and rushed towards her since she was the only person you knew there.

“Y/N dear!” She greeted you with her signature smile, “Wonderful to see you made it! Jisung and Renjun are over there!” She pointed towards a corner where you saw the two boys in context talking amongst themselves.

“Hi guys!” You beamed once you approached them.

“Hey Y/N!” Renjun waved at you.

“Wow Y/N, You look amazing!” Jisung blurted out, without thinking. Realising what he said, he reddened at his own words.

“Thank you!” You twirled around in the dress you were wearing, “You guys look really good in these tuxedos too!”

“Thank you Y/N” both Renjun and Jisung said at the same time.

“You ready?” Jisung asked

“Ready as I ever will be!” You jumped excitedly, “Let’s nail this!”

As the event started, you peeked out to see the people who had filled the auditorium. There were more people than you had imagined there would be. You searched the crowd and saw that your parents were there. You waved at them when they saw you, both wearing proud smiles. Many of your classmates were also seen, but the one person you were looking for wasn't there.

“Everything okay?” Jisung asked quietly from behind.

“Yeah, it’s just… I don't see Hyuck yet” You frowned. It wasn’t the same if your best friend wasn’t there.

“Don't worry, He’ll be here anytime soon!” Jisung said in a soothing tone and for some reason, you believed what he said.

Overtime, you found Jisung as a source of comfort. At times when Donghyuck wasn’t around, you’d find yourself hanging out with Jisung, who also enjoyed your company. Even though Donghyuck complained about being replaced, he found it cute how his best friend was falling for the boy each passing day. Afterall, it was because of Jisung that your dream came true, and Donghyuck couldn’t have been happier.

“Y/N!” You heard his voice.

“Donghyuck!” You ran to hug him, “Jisung said you’ll come, but I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck sounded offended, “How could I miss such an important event! I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

“Thank you Hyuck,” You smiled at him,

“Anytime Y/N, You’ve got this!” He wished you before leaving to find his seat.

Ms.Yang approached you and Jisung with Renjun accompanying her.

“It’s almost your turn dears,” she sounded more calmer than she should have been, “Now listen to me carefully. Do not stress out over the number of people in the audience, just have fun ! Think of it as one of my routine classes, that should calm you all down. And just so you know, I am very proud of all three of you. Also, please don’t beat yourselves up if we don’t win, reaching this stage is something more than enough! So congratulations to us!”

All of you beamed at her words.

“Thank you Ms.Yang” You said.

“Yes Ms.Yang, this is all thanks to you” Renjun continued.

“We’re glad to have a teacher like you!” Jisung ended.

“Oh I’m so proud of you all!” Ms.yang wiped away a tear.

When your school’s name blasted for the speaker, you felt cold sweat run down your spine. You looked down at your hands which were shaking lightly. Noticing this, Jisung without a second thought, engulfed you in a hug for the first time.

At that moment, you felt like your breath got stuck in your throat. Not sure whether it was because of his action or your nervousness, your breathing became uneasy. His hug, however, calmed you down because it felt so familiar. It was because of him you were here, and it was because of him you were steading yourself at the moment. You were sure you liked Jisung more than a friend.

“It’s okay Y/N, We can do this!” He said pulling away, receiving a slow nod from you.

“Thank you for everything, Jisung” You wrapped your arms around him one more time and you could’ve sworn you felt his heart hammering against his chest.

“Come on guys!” Renjun said, extending his hand forward.

Jisung placed his hand on top of Renjun’s and looked at you. You did the same.

“To us!” Renjun continued, “Let's give it our best!”

The three of you walked on to the stage, waiting for your turn on the brown, wooden grand piano standing in the middle of the stage. All of you were playing different songs, but that wasn’t a problem.

You glanced at Jisung who seemed nervous for his turn. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled and said, “If I’m here because of you, then there is nothing stopping you from giving the performance of your life.” He relaxed under your touch, returning you the warm smile. “Thanks Y/N”

Renjun went first. He didn’t seem so nervous because he had played in front of a few audiences before. Of course, he played flawlessly, obtaining an ovation once he ended his performance.

Jisung went next. He seemed hesitant at first, but when he saw you and Renjun giving him a thumbs up, he began to play. His performance also saw a perfect end, thunderous clapping filling the auditorium’s air.

It was finally your turn. You were face to face with the moment you had dreamed of all your life. As you walked towards the piano which called for you, you saw that everyone you loved was there for you; your parents who were delightedly cheering you on, your teacher who had her fingers crossed for you, All your friend who had rooted for you, Donghyuck, your best friend who had been there for you since day one, and of course, Jisung because of whom you were here. Everything was perfect.

Placing your music sheet in front of you, you took a deep breath.

This is it.

Forgetting about where you were, you immersed yourself into the music. Everything faded out when you started playing, it was only you and the music. Your fingers danced with the black and white keys, each producing its assigned tone. Before you knew it, you were brought back to reality when the song reached its climax exquisitely. The crowd once again burst into a loud applause, making your ears turn red. You bowed to the audience and went back to where Jisung and Renjun had been waiting.

When you met them, the three of you hugged each other jumping up and down in circles.

“We did it! We did it! We did it!” You screamed with joy.

“Let’s just hope the judges liked it!” Jisung squealed.

After a few performances from the other schools, the judges were called onto the stage. Ms.Yang came backstage to pick the three of you before the results were announced.

“Remember what I said children!” She recalled, “Do not beat yourself up! You did great and had fun, that's all that matters!”

You sat in the row assigned to your school, bowing and congratulating as you passed the other competitors. All three of you along with Ms.Yang felt nervous when the judges came forward.

Jisung unconsciously held onto your hand, almost jumping from the stress the moment was causing. You felt your ears redden, but you squeezed his hand as well. You really wanted your school to win.

“And the winner for tonight is…”

Screams and cheers filled the air when your school’s name was announced. At first, the three of you froze in your place, it was when Ms.Yang congratulated you all by hugging you when you realised that you had actually won. Not being able to control your emotions, you burst into tears.

“Why are you crying Y/N?” Jisung asked in a puzzled way, adrenaline still rushing through his veins.

“These are happy tears Jisung!” You nearly screamed, hugging him again.

This was truly the happiest moment in your life, and you were glad that you shared it with everyone you loved.

Your laptop screen illuminated the dark room as the woman in the video continued to ramble about her past loves, but you had stopped watching long ago. Throwing your head back on the pillows lying on your bed, you took out your phone to kill time.

You scrolled through Pinterest, saving the most random pins you saw. You were interrupted when you got a notification stating “five years ago, today”.

You tapped on the notification which showed the auditorium you had performed in when you were fifteen. You zoomed in on the photo to see Ms.Yang, standing with the trophy your school had won. You saw yourself, you were so young. Next to you, Renjun stood with his signature smile. You even saw Donghyuck in the photo, he looked so small and so stupid. But what caught your attention was the tiny, dark haired boy who smiled beside you.

“Jisung…” You whispered to yourself.

It had been so long since you last saw him. When the four of you graduated high school, your paths separated. Surprisingly, Renjun and Donghyuck got enrolled into the same college while you shifted to another city to start your life again in your dream college. Jisung being the only one remaining, disappeared once he too, joined some college out of the city. You couldn’t believe there was a time where the four of you had been inseparable.

You let out a dry chuckle at the memories, at how your feeling for Jisung faded overtime, but never vanished. Of course, you developed two other crushes, but Jisung was your very first. And the firsts never make their way out of someone’s heart.

And that, everyone, was my first crush. Damn, he didn’t have to roast me so badly…

The woman on your screen brought you back to reality. You saw the title of the video that had started to play on its own.

“I sent a quiz to every boy I've had a crush on…”

Was someone reading your mind? Was this a sign? Were you supposed to send a quiz to all the boys you’ve had a crush on before?

You picked up your phone and started texting Donghyuck, who was still your best friend. The only difference now was that you only saw each other either over facetime, or during vacation.

You began to spam his chat, that's what you always did because only you were annoying enough to do such a thing.

[hyuck <3] Y/N, what the fuck [You] Oh, so we’re swearing now? [hyuck <3] Shut up, what’s wrong? [You] Can I call :P [hyuck <3] No <3 [hyuck <3] I mean yes <3

“Aw did you miss me?” You asked once he picked up the phone.

“In your dreams maybe?” You could practically see the smirk resting on his face, “Anyways, what’s up?”

“Well…” You continued, eyes glued to the woman still going on about her crushes on the screen, “I needed your help with something…um– stupid?”

“Stupid?” he questioned, “I don’t think anything which has involved the two of us has ever been not stupid. So, what’s the plan?”

“Okay so, I was watching this video of a woman sending a quiz to all of her past crushes,” You explained, “and well… since you know how dry my love life is, I was wondering if you’d help me out.”

“Woah, woah!” He was taken aback by your words, “Y/N I’m sorry to break it to you, but I really never saw you like ta-”

“Not you idiot!” You interrupted him, laughing at his absurd idea, “I was talking about Jisung.”

“Oh~ That makes much more sense! You scared me for a second there.” you heard his sigh of relief.

“I was wondering if you have his number or something, I have his old number but I think he changed it.” You scowled at the thought of how you had no contact with an old friend of yours. You were quite disappointed with yourself, you weren’t going to lie. But you remembered that your parents told you that’s how life worked.

“Oh yeah… I think I can manage that from somewhere. I’ll text you in a while, I think I’m gonna need Renjun’s help with this one. Catch you later” He hung up the phone.

You were pleased to see that even years later, Donghyuck had proved to be the most helpful and loyal friend you could ever ask for.

A few days had passed since you had asked Donghyuck for help. You had also spent time with your new friends, trying to get the contact of the other crushes you had. Another one of your close friends, Younha, helped you make the google form. You had everything now, except for Jisung’s number.

“Do you think this is stupid?” You asked Younha who had come over to your apartment to help you prepare yourself for the fire you were about to throw yourself in.

“Not at all Y/N!” She exclaimed, guiding you to your bed, “I tried it out, and you saw how that ended. I’m not single anymore.”

“Yeah, but I’m not lucky like you are,” you stated plainly, “What if they all start to hate me?”

“Girl. Stop over thinking.” She rolled her eyes, “Any update on that Jisung guy? He’s the only one because of whom our plan is delayed.”

As if on cue, you received a text from Donghyuck.

[hyuck <3] Hey idiot :P [hyuck <3] Guess what I have for you O.O [You] Jisung’s number? [Hyuck <3] Damn Y/N, spare me a chance [hyuck <;3] Anyways- [hyuck <;3] XXX-XXXX-XXXX -Park Jisung [hyuck <;3] Here [hyuck <3] And you’re welcome [You] OHMYGOD- [You] THANK YOU SO MUCH HYUCK <333 [You] I’M BUYING YOU BOBA THE NEXT TIME WE MEET [You] You’re the best :( [hyuck <3] Yeah Yeah whatever

“Guess we can put our plan into action now,” you shrugged at Younha.

With her help, you started sending everyone of your crushes the form, leaving Jisung for the last.

[You] Hey Jisung! It’s me Y/N, your friend from high school? [You] I know this is very random, but would you please fill out this form? [You] *attachment* [You] Thank you !

“There we go! That’s the last one.” You looked at Younha who was grinning ear to ear, “I swear if this blows up, you’re buying me lunch for the next semester.”

“But it wasn't my idea?” She cried out at your absurd condition.

“No, but you encouraged me, so yeah, you’re buying me lunch.” you continued, but the both of you burst into a fit of giggles.

Even though you thought it was stupid, at least you’d be able to know what people actually thought of you.

Whatever happens, it is for the best. You thought to yourself

After a lot of pushing from Younha, you finally gathered the courage to go through the responses of the form you had sent a few weeks ago.

“Come on Y/N! It’s completely fine!” she groaned for the hundredth time, “Nothing’s gonna happen, okay?”

“If you say so…” You chewed on your lip. You didn’t think you’d actually be this anxious for something little like this, “Okay, first to last or last to first?”

“Last to first!” She requested, “But before you start, let me grab some popcorn.”

“Younha!” You yelled at her jokingly when you saw her actually bring out popcorn from the kitchen.

“What? I came prepared?” She giggled innocently.

Time seemed to fly past as the both of you went through the responses thoroughly. The guy from the football team had answered very honestly, saying that he had no clue as to who you were, making you and Younha nearly fall off the bed from laughing so much. You couldn’t imagine what he must have thought getting such a form from some who he didn’t know even existed. Your lab-partner from chemistry had answered negatively, but wrote a very long paragraph about how you had been one of the brightest and bubbliest people he had met in his entire life.

“Aw, that was sweet not gonna lie,” she nodded her head to his words when you read them aloud, “Okay so the last one! Let's go!”

“Alright, Alright,” you chuckled, “Question one, name of participant… Park Jisung… Wow I really didn't expect him to answer–

“Question two, Did you know that I liked you? Jisung has answered…No?” your tone raised in the end, “Damn, I guess I was subtle?”

“Or maybe he was just naive,” Younha suggested, stuffing her mouth with popcorn.

“Question three, If you knew that I liked you, how did you tell? Jisung has left this blank.” you reached out for the popcorn bowl in Younha's lap. “Question four, did you ever like me? Jisung has answered…”

You fell silent when your eyes fell on the letters typed out in the answer area.

“Jisung has answered…?” Youha mimicked your sentence, but as a question.

“Yes…” You trailed off.

“Oh My God?” Younha said, peeking into your phone, “Wow Y/N?”

“Wow indeed.” you echoed, not believing your eyes.

“Question Five, What was your first impression of me? Mr.Park has written,” You cleared your throat and continued, “My first impression… I found it really cute how you saw me for the first time in Ms.Yang’s class and then looked away all flustered when I caught you staring…”

You paused before you scratched your forehead, “How does he even remember that?”

“Aww Y/N, he called you cute!” Younha cooed at the boy's words.

“I also thought it was very brave of you to face your flaws, because you knew you weren’t doing well, yet you never gave up. Your dedication impressed me alot. I was over the moon when you accepted my offer to give you extra piano lessons.” The flashback of your young and natural self made you smile to yourself.

“Question six, What terms are we on? nine out of ten!”

“Hey, that's a pretty good rank from someone who's been ghosted and has been ghosting!” Younha continued with her series of compliments, “What's the next question?”

“Question seven, How awkward is this? Jisung has rated… 7” His ranking made you giggle.

“I mean, it makes sense…Man hasn’t talked to you since forever.” Younha pointed out.

“Question nine, Any final words?” You read out the final question, “I don’t want to make this awkward, but since you have my number now… would you like to catch up sometime?”

His response to the last question made you forget everything. All the memories of him flooded back to your brain, playing them in front of you like some movie scene. Was life giving you another chance with him?

Younha’s shriek made you nearly smash the phone in your hands.

“Y/N! Do you know what this means?” You jumped excitedly.

“I’m trying to figure that out actually–” you said, still not believing what was happening at the moment.

“It means you were destined to be together! All the stories you told me about him! You guys are fated to be together!” Younha continued jumping, as if it was her who had gotten the news.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” She gasped, “Text him!”

Not even giving it a second thought, you opened your texts with Jisung. You typed out whatever Younha instructed and awaited his response.

You, however, were perplexed when you saw his texts days later. You found it incredible that you had actually made a plan to meet Jisung, someone who you had barely spoken with for years, in another city as soon as you went on your winter breaks.

“Wow” you said to yourself, that was literally the only thing you could say.

Wow...

Snow fell as the birds abandoned their nests, leaving behind their homes on bare tree branches. The unfamiliar city was covered in a white blanket, as the temperatures continued to drop every passing day. The icicles hung from the roofs of the little houses and the snowflakes rode the cool winds.

You walked towards the location Jisung had sent you when you asked him where he was living. When you arrived at the sent location, however, you were face to face with a small cafe.

Had Jisung lied to you? Maybe you shouldn’t have come in the first place…

But no. The Jisung you knew would never do something like this. Taking a deep breath, you opened the cafe door and entered.

The welcoming aroma of coffee and buns greeted you, and you continued to look around for the boy. You made your way to an empty table, and seated yourself. Pulling your phone out you texted Jisung.

[You] Hey… Where are you Jisung? [Jisung] Don’t worry! I just arrived!

You turned around to the sound of the door opening.

The dark-haired, small timid boy existed no more. Instead, you saw a tall, gorgeous guy with dyed faded-peach hair, a pair of glasses sitting gently on his nose. The Jisung you knew had disappeared, and morphed into whatever masterpiece was entering the cafe in search of someone. You.

“Y/N!” He waved at you when he saw you and came towards where you were sitting.

“Wow…Jisung? Is that really you?” You questioned in awe.

How many more surprises was this guy going to give you?

“Yeah…” The awkward Jisung was back, “You’ve changed a lot too Y/N. I barely recognized you!”

“I’d have to say the same… This whole thing really suits you.” You complimented him, gesturing your hands in a circular motion towards the boy, a faint blush creeping to your cheeks.

After quite a couple of awkward minutes, you finally started catching up to each other's lives. You found out that Jisung had continued to study music, deciding that he wanted to become a music artist. It was nice to get to talk to him again, you were reminded of all the good times in your life. You had forgotten how much you missed his company, you had forgotten about how much you liked him.

“But why didn’t you contact any of us after leaving?” You brought up the question which had remained unanswered for a few years, “You know it wasn’t the same without you.”

Jisung gulped before answering. He was confronted and this time he couldn’t run away from it.

“In all honesty?” He confessed avoiding your gaze, “I was scared.”

“Scared of what, Jisung?” you asked, softening your tone.

“Scared of losing our friendship… Like I told you, I started to develop feelings for you. And I had no idea that you liked me too back then. I just thought that maybe if I confessed to you, you would hate me and I’d lose an amazing friend I had made.

“So I decided to cut off all ties. I thought maybe if I ignored what I felt, I would save myself. But I was being selfish… I should’ve had the courage and told you how I’d felt, instead of being a coward and backing out. Look Y/N, I’m sorry for ghosting you all like this. None of you deserved to get hurt like this. I really owe you all an apology…”

A moment of silence took place as you absorbed all of the information Jisung had just provided you with.

“You aren’t the only one who owes an apology, Jisung…” you broke the silence, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just let you go like that. You were my crush… but most importantly, you were our friend, and friends don’t ghost each other out. I should’ve tried to contact you, but I thought that maybe you didn’t want to be with us anymore. I guess… both of us our guilty”

He smiled at you sheepishly before saying, “Wanna start over?”

That day was not only the revival of a lost friendship, it also became something the fifteen-year-old you could only have imagined. Something even more beautiful.

You, who were destined to be with Jisung, and Jisung, who was destined to be with you, years ago finally found each other, and fit like the missing pieces of a puzzle.

“I’d love that…”

Title : Four season || Word count: 9.565k || Genre: Fluff, Some angst, strangers to friends to lovers au (?), high school - university au, slice of life, somewhat coming of age ??? || Pairing: Jisung x Fem!Reader || Thank you Bar for letting me enter so late 🫶🥹

Tagging : @rrxnjun @armysantiny @icie065

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