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snowstories · 2 years ago

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Look I know damn well Safu is going to lose because of sheer popularity disparity but I'd just like to get one thing straight: there is an objectively correct answer here and it's not Annabeth.

Yes, there is a subsection of fans who hate Annabeth for misogyny reasons, but the vast majority of fans adore her. Percabeth is the most popular ship in the PJO fandom. All m/m ships involving Percy are miles behind percabeth in popularity. Annabeth is a victim of fandom misogyny (though, let's be clear, she's still treated better than literally all the rest of the female cast), undervalued compared to the male characters and held 'accountable' for actions nobody would've blinked at if she was a guy, but she's not a victim of yaoi specifically. The people who hate on her just have male character/Percy-specific bias goggles.

Here's the AO3 stats, ok. Percy Jackson and The Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media types currently has almost 40,600 fics.

[Image: AO3 filter reading 'Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson (10930)'. End ID.]

That's the most popular ship, solangelo being second most popular, clocking in at about 900 fics less. Percabeth features in roughly one fourth of PJO fics.

This is the most popular m/m ship involving Percy.

[Image: AO3 filter, 'Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson (2957)'. End ID.]

Also. Total number of fics in 'Annabeth Case Bashing':

[Image: AO3 tag search reading '1 - 20 of 49 fics in Annabeth Chase Bashing (Percy Jackson)'. End ID.]

I am well aware that most fics with character bashing aren't self aware enough to tag it, but still. Lol. Lmao, even. Even the most generous estimate of Annabeth hate vs percabeth ship fic make it crystal clear what's more popular.

Annabeth Chase is a popular character in an even more popular, fandom-dominating ship, who also has a small vocal minority of haters. She does not get her due for 'being a female character in fandom' reasons, but she's undeniably incredibly popular and does not get hated/ignored for being in the way of an m/m ship because her ship is far more popular than any m/m ship she could get in the way of.

Safu, on the other hand, is a canonical victim of yaoi. The m/m ship she's ignored in favor of is so big in the fandom many consider the ship and fandom to be synonymous. And also, the ship is, you know, canon. Safu's character, especially in the novels and manga, is underdeloped. After confessing one-sided feelings for Shion, she spends the rest of the series captured, experimented on, and, quite literally, torn apart. Do I think this was because she got 'in the way' of Shion and Nezumi? No; Safu's role in the story has little to do with that. Nevertheless, a large part of her character ends up being reduced to her crush on Shion and her role as damsel in distress, while Shion and Nezumi are off having relationship development. It's jarring, to say the least.

Even so, Safu is Shion's best friend; she's his main motivation for kickstarting the entire third act of the series, and facilitates the third act in other ways as well. She's ultimately still a side character (unlike Annabeth, who's a main character), but she's incredibly important to both Shion and the plot. In addition, the anime wildly improved upon her character development, undoing much of my issues regarding underdevelopment in the novels/manga despite her having roughly the same story role. Even in the novels/manga, though, she's an interesting character with a strong introduction.

Anyway. AO3 stats. There's about 1.2k fics in No. 6 - All Media Types. Nezumi/Shion features in roughly 1.1k of them, ie roughly 90%. Safu (the character, not any ship involving her) 147 fics total. That's roughly 12%. Her most popular ship, Safu/Shion, has five fics (less than 0.5%). The most popular platonic relationship featuring her (coincidentally, the third most popular relationship tag in the whole fandom) is Safu & Shion, clocking in at a whopping eleven fics (less than 1%).

Like. Come on. Safu is ignored in favor of the yaoi in a blatant, obvious fashion.

Look, I know Safu is gonna get swept by Little Miss Popular over there, but nobody is a worse victim of yaoi than female characters in yaoi fandoms.

TL:DR: If you vote for Annabeth you are wrong.

Round 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Safu

I am adding my vote because the yaoi may be canon in this one but Safu is still Shion's best friend and the way ppl leave her out of stuff sucks ass. Her character development was the ONE thing the anime had over the novels and manga but even the anime only fans won't look at her. She literally said "I want your sperm" out loud with her mouth in a train station to ask her best friend to date her. Weird girl extraordinaire who became bee jesus people need to stop sleeping on her for the guys.

She has a crush on Shion and makes it quite known She also asked for Shion's semen once

Neurodivergent queen! She autismed her way through puberty so hard, she thought her feelings for the protagonist Shion were purely sexual, until she spent time away from him to grow as a person

Annabeth Chase

I feel like fandom is kinda split on her with percabeth shippers loving her but any m/m shipper I've seen does not like her, really. She is my bae tho <3

Percabeth antis grind my gears so much because they never hate Percy, nono, even though he's arguably done more questionable stuff than Annabeth. Not everyone who hates her is doing so because of a mlm ship— the Perachel stans claim that Annabeth is a misogynist. However, basically everyone that isn't trying to ship her boyfriend with Rachel is trying to ship him with Jason, Nico, or her old friend Luke. They make her out to be this horrible abusive girlboss(derogatory) that she's simply... not. She doesn't insult Percy for having ADHD just because she's highly intelligent. She doesn't physically abuse him, and doesn't lay a finger on him outside of training. She's really devoted to him in a non-anti-feminist way. They just hate her for 'getting in the way' of Nico's convoluted attraction to Percy, or Jason's close friendship with him, or Luke's rivalry with him. But those relationships all flourish the way they were intended by the author: non-romantically. It's not Annabeth's fault for being intelligent or capable or jokingly snide or determined or any of those non-stereotypically-feminine qualities. She's just out here existing and people hate her for not being a man. Sorry for the rant.

She's canonically in a relationship with Percy Jackson for most of the books they're in, but he often gets paired in canon with other male characters, such as Nico di Angelo or Jason Grace. In fan fiction (especially yaoi focused ones) she's characterized as being a stuck up know it all, but she gets into plenty of shenanigans in canon and can be pretty goofy and sweet!

I think I may have accidently used fanart for Annabeth's picture, if you have official art of her, send it in!

#I KNOW safu's gonna lose and you're ALL wrong #Yes I know there's debate about whether no. 6 even is yaoi/shounen-ai and usually I would not classify it as such #But like. Let's not fucking kid ourselves. This is a yaoi fandom.#The majority of fans aren't here for the sci-fi worldbuilding and complex themes they're here to see 2 boys kissing #Polls #Functionally described #Edit: I just realized I sound genuinely angry in this and I'd like to clarify this is just how I talk #I am mildly annoyed at worst and my propaganda is intended to be in good fun

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welovekpopscenarios · 7 years ago

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Quietus (Ghost!Hoshi x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

When Hoshi died, he thought that was the end of everything as he knew it, and that he would be doomed to a life of isolation for the rest of his miserable existence. That was until the day you walked into his abandoned house and made him feel a little less lonely.

Fandom: Seventeen

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Hoshi x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/blood/violence, Ouija boards, alcohol

Word Count: 4413

A/N: Hoshi is (one of) my bias and I never wrote for him before. I got inspired after the Lilili Yabbay video bc he looked like a ghost in that video, and since the spoopy festivities of Halloween are upon us, I was in the mood to write for the occasion! I put up the warnings for those who aren’t comfortable with it (obviously lol) but honestly, it isn’t that graphic or scary. It might seem a bit grizzly at the beginning, but that’s the worst of it, I promise you. That being said, I hope everyone likes this and that you have a good October/Halloween!

Soonyoung doesn’t remember the day he died. At least, not perfectly.

He remembers the unease he felt, the hairs on the nape of his neck standing up much like a cat’s when it arches its back in fright, preparing for attack, ready to strike. He remembers a large black mass entering his vision, a shadow of doom coming to swallow him whole and make him disappear from the world forever, cursed to the darkness for no reason at all other than being at home when he shouldn’t have been. Lastly, he remembers the pain, the sharp edge of a demon’s blade as it pierced the pure tissue of his heart, the searing pain crawling across his body like maggots and tearing at his skin as he struggled to fight it, fighting until he took his last breath and his body gave in to the desire of being in a painless state, turning paler and stiffer than the coldest of snows in winter.

Soonyoung doesn’t remember the day he died other than that.

But what he does remember, is waking up sometime later from that horrible, dull slumber and watching as paramedics placed his body on a stretcher and wheeled him out of his bedroom as hard men in suits held onto his weeping mother. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen his father as broken in his life as he had then, his father’s eyes red rimmed and bloodshot, trying to listen to the policemen as they rambled on about possible reasons why poor Soonyoung’s life was taken so suddenly from him. But as he looked around his room that fateful night, examining the wooden floor that was now stained darker than before, examining just like the detectives that invaded his personal space, he thought it was painfully clear what had happened. He was murdered in the confines of his bedroom as his parents were out of the house late at night.

Everything after that was just a rapid blur of watching his parents cry deep into the night at the loss of their only child to standing over the shoulders of the police as they took notes, screaming at them, wondering why no one could see him despite being right in front of their eyes. But he wasn’t, was he? He might think he’s standing, breathing, but he knows that’s not the case when he watches as he’s- his body, is put into a casket in his Sunday best and lowered into his grave on a dull and wet Wednesday afternoon. He knows that he is, essentially, gone from the land of the living, no longer able to hug his parents, to wave at his friends as they walked mournfully to school, to dance as was always his passion. Yes, everything in the days following his death was a blur of sadness, regret and confusion.

But what he does remember, clear as the crystal vase his mother polished religiously and never let him touch as a child, was the day he stood behind his parents’ small forms and gazed upon the detectives as they detained the dreaded black mass that stole his life and threw him into the backseat of the police car to be locked up for the remainder of his pathetic life. He supposes it was some sort of consolidation for his parents: they had caught the man that ruined their life forever. But it still doesn’t erase the grief of his parents discovering that it was a simple robbery, that Soonyoung had just been in the way and the man panicked when he was caught, doesn’t erase the heavy hearts caused by this terrible accident, a community shocked by the loss of the brightest boy its ever seen.

But now Soonyoung is terribly alone in crowded places, and he doesn’t know what to do.

He stays at home, lies in the bed he’ll never sleep in again, guards the parents he’ll never talk to again, walks beside the friends he’ll never laugh with again. It frustrates him to no end, this isolation, the unhappiness he feels settling deep into his gut and causing him to sob tears that will never fall down his chubby cheeks. He’s never been this alone, this quiet, and it’s such a drastic change from the boy he once was that if anyone were to see him (he prays they do) they’d ask if that really was Soonyoung. Soonyoung, who was once so vibrant and enthusiastic, was now just a dull shell of his former self. And there was never a sadder sight.

He’s met a few of his kind before; other ‘spirits’, or ‘souls’ as they’d call themselves, wandering aimlessly on the streets of his hometown before moving off. Some knew how they died, others didn’t, completely in the dark and confused, afraid. It was a slight burden off his shoulders, knowing he wasn’t the only one out there. But he was still on his own, no spirit ever staying long enough to acquaint, moving on in search of the great beyond that might never come.

Soonyoung spends his days roaming the halls of his home until he overhears the dreaded words slip free from his parents’ mouths. “Let’s move away.” He doesn’t blame them for wanting to leave – he would too if his child was killed in his home. But he still feels like a little boy, even more so now, and he needs his parents by his side, needs that constant to keep him strong. But in what feels like the blink of an eye the house is emptied and his parents have left a few months after his death. Now he guards an empty home, eyes trained on the dust gathering on the kitchen counter tops his mother would prepare his favourite chicken dinners, watches the insects crawl from the cracks in the corners of the living room where his father would read the newspaper in the cushioned chair by the window.

The house looks unbearably bigger now that it’s just Soonyoung and his thoughts. Too big, he thinks, even if he’d hear his mother complaining it was too small when he was a child. Much too big for just himself. Too quiet yet the howling of the wind was too loud for his pale ears. He barely registered the strangers visiting the house that was now on the market, too busy actively ignoring the truth blaring in his face that he was slowly losing whatever life he had, piece by piece, and yet he refused to give up on this house. His home. His home that no longer felt like a home.

Except for the day you walked through the front door, freshly cut keys jingling in your hand as the other struggled to drag your packed suitcase behind you, small grin on your face as you basked in the glory of finally finding somewhere to live close to your college near five years later.

He doesn’t recall seeing you in the house before, figures he would have remembered a face as mesmerising as yours, so utterly entranced he was at your soft visage that he felt as if his scarred, dead heart has started beating again. At first, he had somewhat hated you for stepping into his home and making it your own, changing it from the safe haven he once knew and he despised that. But as you settled in, buried your head in your textbooks, sang the sweetest notes as you cooked in the kitchen, danced foolishly throughout the house in a ratty t-shirt and shorts as you cleaned the house, hoovering up that wretched dust that covered his memories, he found he didn’t mind you as much.

The company was indeed welcomed after years of silence, the house a little less lonely now that he had someone new to watch over, and you were certainly an interesting one. He’d laugh whenever you’d bang your head on the open cupboard door in the kitchen (which was always, you never seemed to learn from that) and swore under your breath as you rubbed the bump on your head. He’d raise a brow at when you went on one of your ‘creative sprees’, and you’d ruin the floor of his parents’ bedroom (your bedroom, he needs to remember that), various assortments of glitter and paints and stickers covering the dark wood in whatever creation you had in mind that day. And he’d join you as you turned up the music to prance around the room as you got ready for the day, both dancing to your hearts delight, and for once, Soonyoung felt a sliver of the happiness he’s been deprived of.

But things got even more interesting when you walked straight through Soonyoung’s ethereal form. And you shivered. And Soonyoung nearly dropped dead (if he could).

It was the first time since becoming a spirit that anybody had any sort of response to walking through him despite having done so unknowingly on numerous occasions. And Soonyoung almost, almost missed it, if not for the little sound of discomfort you made that drew his eyes back towards you once more. He watched as your body gave a slight shudder, your face contorting into a miniscule scowl before shrugging and continuing about your day as if nothing happened. But something did happen. Soonyoung saw it with his own eyes, heard it with his own ears, and it sparked the tiniest of flames inside his soul of a body, a spark of hope, something he had not had in the longest time, hope that for the first time, he would be seen.

And since that day, Soonyoung has been nothing but a pest throughout your house; moving your letters from one place to another, pots mysteriously falling from their spot on the counter to clang on the floor, random taps resounding through your walls in the middle of the dead of night. At first you were frightened, who wouldn’t be? All these strange paranormal happenings in your house would scare anyone, and while that wasn’t Soonyoung’s original intent, he was still determined to make his presence known, to make you notice him. After weeks of observation he was ecstatic to find that you no longer feared the unknown presence in your home, and instead, with your strange quirkiness and caring side that he’s come to love, you’ve accepted him, even calling out to him if he fiddles with something in your line of vision. You’ve even given him a nickname, called after the little star decoration hanging over your mirror that he pays special attention to when you’re getting ready for the day. Hoshi, you named him, and he was sure his smile could have cracked his face if he wasn’t dead, was sure that the brightest of blushes would wash over his face. Hoshi was perfect, and it was beautiful, like you, and he was proud to wear the name.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and it felt like Hoshi was stuck in the same spot; forever fiddling with things to get your attention, walking through you to earn a reaction. The flame inside his heart was beginning to dull the more time went by, losing hope that he would ever get to talk to you, to be acknowledged for once since his untimely end. He was hopeless, until one October night you held a small party with your closest friends and someone had the bright idea to bring a Ouija board to play with while you were all drunk. Hoshi thought it bizarre at first, do people just carry these sorts of things around with them like it’s nothing? But then he heard the light tone of your voice, albeit slightly slurred from the fruity drinks you’ve had, saying that you wanted to meet Hoshi, and he nearly melted. You should have been more careful, he thought momentarily, Ouija boards were dangerous and not something for drunk college students to be messing around with, but soon enough he heard your voice calling out to him, and he stood in shock for a brief second.

This was his chance, for him to finally have some way of actually speaking to you, for you to know he’s been here all along, to know what happened to him, to know how he feels, and suddenly he’s scared. After living in silence for so long he finally gets the opportunity to speak to the one person who’s brought him an ounce of joy and now he’s hesitant, his feet unwilling to move from their spot. He doesn’t understand why, his mind screams at him to make a move, but his fear stops him. But, one look at your dejected face from your friends mocking remarks about him being fake, suddenly Hoshi’s moving towards the board and placing his pointer finger upon the planchette.

“My Hoshi, are you there?” you inquire, a drunken lilt to your voice as you look aimlessly around the room, your eyes meeting his unknowingly for a few seconds before moving off. Hoshi could almost laugh at the ominous setting of the room; dark except for the few faintly lit fairy lights scattered throughout the room, fake store-bought cobwebs lining the table you and your friends sat around and bottles of drink pushed to the side to be dealt with tomorrow morning. He stared at your face, your pretty eyes wide in what looked to be slight apprehension, nibbling softly on the skin of your lower lip as you awaited his answer, and he was soon pushing his finger towards the ‘yes’ that sat in the corner of the board.

You all gasped aloud when the planchette moved, some friends quick to question each other which one of you moved it to freak the others out, but when all of them firmly denied ever even pressing hard on the planchette, it soon dawned up on you all that there was another presence in the room and it was met with mixed reactions. Some reacted in fear, wanting to put away the board altogether and go home, others in shock and awe, but you, you were the only one smiling, stretching from ear to ear and your eyes twinkling brighter than any of the lights littering the space in the room. Hoshi’s face matched your own, a heart once so dead and cold now full and bursting with warmth, so overjoyed that he could experience this moment with you, the moment he actually made contact with you. Part of him wishes to not have the intrusion of your friends on what he considers an intimate moment, but he wasn’t able to think on it too long before you were asking more questions.

“What’s your real name?”

Hoshi’s fingers moved the planchette to the respective letters of his name, spelling out S-O-O-N-Y-O-U-N-G while one of your friends wrote down the letters. Someone recognised his name, a dark tale that drifted throughout the town and city years ago, and recalled what they knew of him: a boy killed unjustly, taken too early, someone who had so much to live for be it in dancing, school or simply being the bright person he was. Hoshi’s heart deflated when your face fell the more his story was revealed to you, sorrow marring every inch of your graceful features and causing his stomach to do uncomfortable twists as if it were still a functioning organ in his body. You took a deep breath before speaking again, but this time no question was asked.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve it, and I hope the person who killed you rots wherever they are,” you said, poison lacing your honey-like voice, and once more Hoshi was shocked. He never thought he’d have those words directed at him before, never thought he’d hear it for himself than told to his parents. He didn’t know how to reply, so he said the first thing he thought was right.

T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U

You smiled again, the lightest of blushes spreading across your cheeks and your nose scrunching momentarily in delight. Another question came to your mind, your features taking on an inquisitive look again. “Do you want me to call you Soonyoung instead?”

Hoshi chose to ignore how your name made him feel weak-kneed for a second, and answered you quickly.

I-L-I-K-E-H-O-S-H-I

It was a bit tedious, having to spell out everything while your friends freaked out beside you, filling the room with squeals and shrieks, but his focus was only on you and your reactions. You giggled at his answer, and he laughed alongside you, a giddiness coming over him that he couldn’t control. He gave a frown of annoyance when your friends elected to take over the questioning for the night, endless dreary questions like ‘have you seen other ghosts?’, ‘have you ever met a demon?’, or the most baffling one that they spent some time talking about, ‘could ghosts have sex?’ Both you and Hoshi balked at the question, whether it be for the same or completely different reasons, but you were coughing into your hand when your friend sent an obvious wink in your direction. When it seemed like they would never shut up with their curious questioning, they eventually grew bored on Hoshi’s deliberate bland answers in the hopes that they’d turn the questioning back to you. But to his horror, everyone began to announce they were going to go home before putting an end to the connection. In his panic, Hoshi’s fingers sped over the ‘no’ in the opposite corner, subsequently stopping the group from saying goodbye. Everyone paused, staring at the bold letters silently and then looking towards you who wilted underneath their gazes.

“It’s dangerous to break the circle, isn’t it?” one said, eyes flickering uncertainly around the others who returned the hesitance to mess up the circle.

“Well,” another perked up after a beat of silence, “he doesn’t seem like an evil spirit. I guess we could take our hands off and end it there, but I say we should keep talking to him for a bit, at least until he’s satisfied.”

“What do you want to talk about?” someone asked, and Hoshi pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Y/N he spelled, and your jaw dropped.

“You want to talk about me?” you asked, a waver of nervousness in your voice as you furrowed your brows. His fingers flew across the letters again, your friend struggling to keep up with the letters as she wrote them down on the page.

I-W-A-N-T-T-O-T-A-L-K-T-O-Y-O-U-O-N-L-Y

“Oh.”

Your friends shared looks of bewilderment, looking to you for guidance on what to do. You thought for a moment, staring at your fingers that were accidently touching the tips of Hoshi’s spectral ones. “Lift your fingers off the planchette,” you announced, and slowly, one by one, your friends obeyed, their hold on the spirit world evaporating until it was just you and him left. They packed up their things and called cabs, not that you payed them much attention, keeping your focus on the board despite not saying anything, and wishing you good luck before they left, they bid their goodbyes and closed the door behind them.

The silence that filled the room was almost deafening, Hoshi waiting in anticipation of your next move, eyes trained on your face that was softly illuminated, as perfect as the day he first saw it. Licking your lips, painted a blood red hue in the spirit of Halloween, you began to speak.

“What do you look like?” you asked, and Hoshi should have expected a question like that but it still made his eyebrows raise in surprise. He thought for a moment on how he would show you, his parents long having packed up every picture you could possibly find of Soonyoung in the house. Then it came to him.

I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T. Surely the news would have put his pictures in the papers or on the article online. You made a soft ‘ah’ sound and grabbed your phone from its place beside you on the ground, searching his name as quick as you could with one hand to type. Within seconds the results popped up on screen, page upon page of his tragedy, all telling the same sad story. You ignored them in favour of heading to the images page, and your eyes widened at what came up. Multiple pictures of the same boy – no, man would be the better term, dark haired and smiling the cutest grin you’ve ever seen, causing his wonderful eyes to squint in the most unique way you’ve ever seen. Without realising, the words “he’s so pretty” slipped ever so quietly out of your mouth but it was not lost on Hoshi’s ears, who was positive said ears would be burning right to the tips if you could see him, the goofiest, love-struck smile overtaking his face. You smiled softly as you looked through the pictures, wondering how such a gorgeous and bright young man like him could ever have been so brutally murdered as he was. Life was truly cruel.

“How long have you been here?” you questioned, phone placed on the ground once more.

F-I-V-E

“Five years, wow…did you ever think about moving off? Can ghosts explore the world or are they tied to the place they, you know…died…?” you mumbled, afraid of offending him somehow. Hoshi chuckled sadly.

D-I-D-N-O-T-W-A-N-T

“Oh, you wanted to stay here? Makes sense, it was your home after all. I’m sorry I took it,” you said sheepishly, scratching your head with your free hand. “Are you angry at me because of that?”

The planchette was immediately moved to ‘no’, followed by I-L-I-K-E-Y-O-U.

He watched as you ducked your head shyly, a giggle of disbelief escaping you, all the while shaking your head. Hoshi smirked, pleased that he was able to elicit that kind of response like it was one of the old romance movies his mother used to play when he was young. He was also pleased he could relieve some of his feelings to you, despite you probably not taking it for face value, for Hoshi did like you, he really did. Probably more than someone in his situation should, what with being dead and near invisible and all, but he couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t. After seeing you every day for the past few months, learning all your quirks, joys and insecurities, Hoshi felt more a part of your life than he thinks anyone has been since you moved here. It was just an unfortunate nightmare that he would never get to treat you as well as you deserved to be, to hold you when college got too tough or laugh when you bump your head on the cupboard door again, never learning your lesson.

He sighed wearily, biting at the inside of his cheek. An unfortunate nightmare indeed, he thinks as he gets lost looking into your eyes, the colours of which he’d know as well as any dance routine he learned as a teenager.

“I like you too, Hoshi,” you gushed, and his lifeless heart felt like it skipped a beat, warming his body from head to toe. “Tell me more about yourself,” you asked, and for the next while, he did to the best of his ability. He told you about his old life and his new one, his hobbies as well as his dreams, and he learned about yours too, your wishes for when you leave college, your job, your friends and family. It felt like a date, almost – a very strange one, couples normally don’t talk through a Ouija board, but Hoshi was never as content as he was now, the one girl who made him smile in his miserable and dull world talking to him as if he were an old friend, an old lover. He never wanted it to end, but as life seemed to hate him, luck was never on his side. You yawned into your free hand, rubbing at your eyes cutely that made Hoshi ‘aww’ out loud and a smile of adoration tug at his lips.

“I’m tired, I think I’m going to go to bed now,” you explained, and Hoshi elected to ignore the disappointment sinking into his bones, favouring your wellbeing more than his. “I better lock up and stuff, make sure no burglar gets in and steals what little stuff I have,” you laughed softly, fatigue washing over you in waves like a lazy river. Hoshi began moving the planchette again, and you dragged your eyes to the letters, sleepy mind scrambling to keep up and make sense of what he is saying.

I-P-R-O-T-E-C-T-Y-O-U

You smiled a gentle, lazy smile once you realised what he had said, heart beating faster than usual for a person. “Thank you, my Hoshi. I feel better knowing you keep me safe every day,” you breathed out a sigh of content, one that made Hoshi feel lighter than a feather that fell from a dove, a sense of pride swelling his chest to the brim. He was glad he could make you feel good for such a simple act, but he does it diligently, from simple things like moving your closer to the centre of the table so it doesn’t fall off the edge to turning off hot appliances that you left on in a rush to leave the house. Anything to make your life just that bit easier and more enjoyable, he’d do it.

“I think I should buy a board for myself so I can talk to you more, I like talking to you,” you murmured, eyelids drooping as the drink from earlier in the night made you feel drowsy. Yawning once more, you stretched your back, heaving a satisfied sigh at the pops and cracks that left you feeling like a noodle. “Goodnight, Hoshi,” you said quietly, and Hoshi swallowed his sigh of disappointment, bitterness welling up in his mouth and tasting like a copper coin. There’s always tomorrow, he thinks, as he moves his pale fingers on the planchette for the final time that night. He’ll talk to you again tomorrow. And maybe, someday, he’ll get his wish and hold you tightly as he rocked you to sleep, whispering only loving things into your ears.

Hoshi moved the planchette over the letters G-O-O-D-N-I-G-H-T before hovering over ‘Goodbye’, and he was alone once more as sleep dragged you into its sweet clutches.

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