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suguruverse · 3 years

Note

ohkay hi! may i just say, that i've just encountered your blog and i am already LOVING IT period. i just love it. it's amazing.

alright, i was thinking maybe you could do something like first meeting headcanons. and hopefully for the manager of karasuno 👀 (i was mainly thinking of the manager being a second year but ig it's not that important) it could be something like meeting at a training camp, or at a game, or at nationals, something like that. and i was thinking kuroo, oikawa and atsumu i love that man so much fml

that would be it ly! 💘

— FIRST MEETINGS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS AS KARASUNO’S MANAGER

includes - kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru and miya atsumu

a/n - hi bub!! hehe thank you for your support i love you <33 i loved this req lmao hope you like it!

♕ KUROO TETSUROU

- bro lets be completely honest, he is an absolute stuttering mess when he first meets you

- he doesn't even realise that you can see him just staring at you for a solid five minutes

- this man has 0 experience with picking up girls so he will just be saying the worst pick up lines ever or some random fact that no one cares about

- it was the first day of the tokyo training camp with karasuno, nekoma and fukurodani and you and some of the other manager's were in charge of making lunch and dinner

- since you were in the kitchen basically for the entire day, you never really had the change to meet any other the other players

- once dinner arrives, they all flood into the cafeteria looking a little bit... dead?

- you serve them their food, only receiving a toneless "thank you"

- until kuroo walked in, as rowdy and loud as he is

- when he arrived in front of you to get his rice and soup, he just stopped and looked at you

"good work today! here's your food"

kuroo: o-o

"um is there something on my face?"

"p...pretty"

"im sorry"

"YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY"

- when i tell you the silence that just filled up the room

*bokuto in the background* "BRO ASK HER OUT LATER, YOU'RE HOLDING UP THE LINE, I'M HUNGRY"

- and then he just awkwardly runs away to his table where kenma was and just plopped on the table, his face hiding in his arms while kenma is just very uncomfortably patting kuroo's back in comfort

- the next day at breakfast, you sneaked your number onto his food tray (that was on a piece of paper) and he didn't even notice it was there until he nearly ate it

- from that day on, you'll just see him awkwardly trying to make conversation with you

- when you switched with yachi to help out the boys during the day like filling up water bottles and shit, kuroo is trying to impress you but is also doing incredibly shitty at the same time

- he pulled a hinata a couple times and got hit straight in the face by bokuto

- but to his surprise, you were already in the nurse's office because tanaka starting waving his shirt around and accidentally hit nishinoya right in the nose

- kuroo acts like he had a broken arm or something just so you can baby him

- he genuinely believes in love at first sight and asks you out at the end of the training camp lol he has no patience

♕ OIKAWA TOORU

- it was at the spring high preliminaries and both teams were warming up

- it was his turn to spike when boom bam he hits you straight in the face

oikawas brain: oh no i hit pretty girl. i should ask pretty girl if she's okay. pretty girl really pretty

- while daichi is trying to stop noya and tanaka from ripping oikawas hair out, he was already running towards you, asking if you were okay

- you insisted you were okay as you were kind of embarrassed with the crowd watching you, and soon after, the game had began

- oikawa was already thinking of 12 ways he could apologise to you but for now, he had to focus on the game

- whenever there was a timeout or break, he noticed the small twitches in your eye and the bruises that were faint, but still there

- although the game had resulted in karasuno's win, oikawa couldn't help but feel worse when he saw you wince in pain when hinata excitedly pulled you into his chest for a hug

- kiyoko recommended you go to the nurse's office but there was no point since you were about to leave anyways

- like kuroo, this man acts as if no one can see him staring at you like a creep for afar

- you rolled your eyes for the 30th time that day when oikawa approached you again as you were about to get on the bus

"hey you! are you sure you're okay?"

"im fine, thanks"

"are you sure? is there something you want me to do for you?"

- he doesn't really know how to continue this conversation so he just stands there, waiting for you to say something

"you seem a little desperate oikawa-san"

- he turns into a blushing mess when you tease him and you cannot tell me otherwise

"what about a date then? as an apology. i don't think i can sleep at night if i don't at least try to make it up to you"

"sorry not interested"

"OH right.. sorry i just thou-"

"i was just joking oikawa-san, tomorrow at 5?"

"YES"

- on the date he keeps mentioning how nervous he was because of how pretty he thought you were and how he couldn't sleep

- love sick bitch

- he also tries to be so damn smooth as well and he thinks that it's working but it really isn't

- pls for the love of god just boost his ego he needs it

- i swear you could be celebrating your 3 year anniversary but he will still be mentioning that day, telling everyone how it was fate or whatever

- and you could be on the side like what mf my face hurt for like 3 weeks shut up

♕ MIYA ATSUMU

- yay we're at nationals

- anyways the venue was fucking massive so you'll end up getting lost right?

- well yes, but you didn't really expect it to be when you were trying to escort hinata to the fucking toilets

- it was only 20 minutes until their match against inarizaki was gonna start and that mf was still in the bathroom

- and you can't exactly enter the men's bathroom so you just started pacing in front of the door like a psycho

- conveniently atsumu and suna were walking to the bathroom and saw you just muttering to yourself

- he honestly thought you were some time of perv and hella weird

"OI CREEP, what the hell a ya doing?" says the man with piss hair and reeks of axe

- and like a movie, you turn around, hair flipping in the wind and he can hear angels singing and a bright light surrounds you

- mans is on the flooring crying because wtf he just saw the most beautiful person he's ever seen

- pls snap him out of it, ur friend is probably shitting his pants in the toilets behind you and you need to see if he's okay

- he cannot keep eye contact for the life of him

- you could just be like "i'm really sorry but im the mangager for karasuno and one of my friends are in there, so can you just check on him pls"

- and he'll just smile and nod at whatever you say like "mhm yeah totally karasuno? mhm thats hot, wanna go out with me?"

- atsumu is like a demon possessed him and suna out here watching him like tf i just need to take a piss man shut up

- yeah you left with atsumu's number and left hinata all alone

- he left the bathroom and almost cried when he realised he got ditched for dick

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thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

made to brave the pain

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The monsters in your life have been human, forcing you into a quiet, isolated world, disconnected from reality to keep yourself safe. What happens when you discover not all monsters are human, though? What do you do when the path of your trauma crosses paths with someone else’s? (AKA: a super trauma comfort fic, bc I’m working out my own shit through writing lol.)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, dissociation & maladaptive daydreaming, PTSD, angst, language. (Hopefully the comfort makes up for it tho!)

A/N: idk how to feel about this, honestly, and I have another comfort fic I’ve been working on, bc these seem to be my go-to during the rough patches. This, or any other fics I write aren’t meant to glorify/glamourize abuse and the PTSD that can follow, but simply just a way for me to work out my own trauma (along side therapy and other professional works of help, of course.) if it bothers you, please ignore. Otherwise, I hope someone enjoys the comfort from this, at least. Stay safe <3 (title is from eisley’s ‘ambulance’)

For as long as you could remember, trauma was essentially the foundation your life was built on. You weren’t a stranger to the pain and the heartbreak that could be caused by those meant to raise and guide you through this cold world.

Monsters were just as human as you. That’s what made them so terrifying, hiding under flesh and bone, lying in wait to tear your world apart.

Having no safe place to run to, you created your own, building from the ground up. It was your shield in dark moments, something you hid behind when the reality was too intense for you to grasp onto.

Sometimes, you disconnected from your body, feeling as if you were floating away from the danger before your eyes. Your mind took a vacation, for minutes, sometimes hours. The doctors called it dissociation.

Other times, it came in the form of leaving the wretched, dangerous surroundings, with a distraction. Your mind played out scenarios that you called the shots in, ones that you controlled. Daydreaming, but more vivid, protecting you from the life outside your brain. Sometimes the events and endings weren’t happy, but it was okay, because it was in your control. Maladaptive daydreaming, your therapist named it.

You found the armor to protect your mind as the world trampled over you, took advantage of you, tricking you into lies and mazes of deceit. You couldn’t control the fate around you, but you could control it within.

It gave you a sense of stability, a feeling of belonging in your own world. You protected yourself this way for so long, since you were little, you began to prefer your own worlds to the one around you. You’d silently thank your mind for disconnecting in times of distress. It knew well now. It knew you and your real world so, so well.

You tried and trusted over and over, knowing you could escape to these safe havens within if it all fell apart. Time and time again, you’d think you had finally found your close knit group of friends, a group of angels on earth, to trust, to bond with, to grow with.

Each time you became too trusting, the relationships would fall away, faster than you could imagine grasping on tight to it. Over time, you kept to yourself. You were friendly. You had friends, in school, at work, but not true friends you could run to in times of need. No one to have hard, aching belly laughs with in the middle of the night, no one to sneak out with, no one to share secrets with. No one was close enough, and you couldn’t let them grow that close ever again.

So when the day came that you found yourself face to face with real monsters, you couldn’t bring yourself to click and stay within reality. All those years of learning to run and hide turned that into a first instinct.

You were working in Waldenbooks, in Starcourt. It was your summer job, to help you save up before moving away for college in the fall, and overall, you liked it. It was a distraction from your life, a real life distraction, and one you could still lose yourself in your thoughts, and not get in much trouble during it. It was generally quieter in the store, more so than the rest of the mall.

It was a late night, finishing unpacking and stocking new books, working past closed alone, and you didn’t mind these shifts, either. You learned how to be content with being alone long ago. Plus, you got to control the radio, and that was certainly a plus. It made up for the fact that you didn’t have plans for the Fourth of July anyway.

Halfway through your shift, just a bit after the store closed, you heard a loud ruckus echoing from the first level of the mall. Perplexed, you stopped moving, listening past your loud heartbeat for more. There was yelling followed by a loud, metallic crashing noise, making you jump. Books in your hand went flying.

Scared and curious, you moved forward, toward the bookstore’s entryway, and peeked your head out, seeing nothing down the wing you worked in. Eyes lingering longer, scanning the neon-lit hallway, you eventually pulled back into the store, picking your work back up once more.

Time had passed, and you continued to restock the shelves, making good time with the batch of books you had, and finished earlier than expected. You cleaned up, clocked out, locked up, and began heading down the wing you worked in, towards the mall’s main entrance.

As you walked, your mind wandered, almost missing the voices trailing out from below, from the first floor. Pushing yourself to tune back in to reality, you focused on your surroundings, walking up to the railing along the edge of the second floor to lean over, get a better look. Your eyes fell on a group of people, sending you further into confusion. Your eyes flickered to the car in the middle of the food court, crushed up against the wall, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

What the fuck?

Distracted, you headed for the escalator, now powered down, and sprinted down the stairs. As you got closer, you recognized some of the people within the group; Steve and Robin, who you’d become friendly with over time, running into each other during breaks on shifts. Your eyes fell to Nancy and Jonathan, who you knew from school, and... Jim Hopper? What the hell was the chief of police doing here? What the hell was going on? Some people in the group turned around, giving you strange looks, almost questioning with their stares ‘what are you doing here?’.

Steve turned around, face twisting in confusion at the sight of you, while your heart dropped again at the sight of his face, bloody, bruised, swollen.

“Wh- what happened?” You managed to stutter out, and Steve’s mouth fell open as he searched for an answer to give. But what could he say? How could he explain this?

Quickly, before anyone else could talk to you, Steve reached out, gently leading you away from the group, across the food court. Your eyes darted furiously between him and the others, and the car, concern growing more and more.

“You have to leave.” Steve said, gently grabbing you by the shoulders. It almost made you blush, before realizing the tone in his voice. “You have to go home, okay?”

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyes wandering his face, taking in the injuries he had. You felt sick. Steve shook his head.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to go home, and be safe.” He stated, voice firmer this time. You shook your head, and he frowned, brows scrunching up. “I didn’t think anyone was still here.”

“I was finishing a shift. Are you and Robin alright? Is that why I heard a big crash earlier? How’d you get hurt?” You couldn’t help letting the questions pour out, curiosity getting the best of you.

You and Steve had spent the breaks of your jobs together sometimes, flirting with one another over time. You figured it was probably nothing to him, and figured it couldn’t do much harm if you kept your usual, safe distance, barely letting him in. It couldn’t hurt to be friendly on the surface, right? He seemed to mean well, too, but you refused to get close enough to find out. Refused to take the chance of letting someone else hurt you again.

“Are you listening to me?” Steve asked urgently, gently shaking you by the shoulders. Your eyes focused back into view, back to his poor, battered face, and realized you had spaced out. In times of panic, you just did that, running for safety. If only your body learned to do the same physically.

“I-“

“Y/N, you really have to get out of here. Please.” Steve pleaded, eyes holding a whole different world of pain and suffering, far different from yours. It made your heart sink.

What demons has he fought that were nearly as bad as yours? The thought of someone as sweet as Steve fighting off his own monsters made you ache, made you worry.

“Are you gonna be okay?” You asked, hoping for a proper answer. Steve looked away for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah I am, it’s gonna be alright.” He reassured, though he looked unsure himself. “Just go home, please. I need you to be safe.”

Something within you screamed to stay, stay, stay, don’t abandon him, don’t abandon Robin, stay, stay, stay. What could you do? What help could you be, when you had no idea what these people were up against.

“Will you be safe? Are you safe with them?” You couldn’t help asking, and without hesitation, Steve nodded.

“I’m in good hands with them, I promise.” He answered sincerely, and that was the only thing that seemed to calm you down, just a bit.

Your arms wrapped around Steve suddenly, taking him by surprise as you hugged him tightly. He hugged back tightly, and quickly pulled away, before gently pushing you towards the mall’s exit. Your heart ached, your mind screamed, stay, stay, stay, against his word.

You, being the stubborn person you were, stayed. Turning to leave, you noticed Steve wasn’t watching you walk out, and took the opportunity to hide. You snuck in the shadows of the bathroom hallways, behind a large, potted plant, by the main entrance.

You heard horrific screams and startling noises as time passed, fighting your curiosity to stay hidden. What the fuck could you do here? It’s not like you knew what was going on, what was happening. Crashing noises echoed through the hallway, glass shattering, things being thrown, broken, inhuman, monstrous noises ripping through the air; you heard it all. At moments, it grew quiet, but it never lasted long. Sometimes you felt the walls shake, almost as if the building was hit.

Peeking out from your hiding spot, you swore you heard fireworks being set off. With shaky limbs, you pulled yourself up off the floor, creeping down the hallway and around the corner, to see the food court lighting up in bright, vibrant colors. Sparks flew everywhere, and your eyes fell to the target of the rockets: a monster. A real monster.

It’s grotesque build and grimy limbs recklessly tossed about, smashing into walls and decor in the mall, narrowly missing everyone scattered about. Debris flew around dangerously. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, but felt your feet pulling you further, towards the door. Your gut told you Steve was right, and you trusted it, running out the door.

You ran, ran, ran, towards your car, parked far away from the mall, and collapsed against the side of it, watching the interior light up from the windows. It didn’t take long for your mind to kick into high gear, dragging itself the hell out of your body, disconnecting from reality, right on schedule.

Your eyes zoned out, blurring your surroundings as you sat against your car, numbly watching the building eventually go up in flames. Smoke billowed out of the roof, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus fully. Sirens echoed out in the distance, surrounding the building in lights, signaling help was here, help had arrived.

Your thoughts felt fuzzy. Had you really seen what you saw? Was that reality? It was like something straight out of your vivid daydreams, the ones where you build up your own heroes to put a stop to the destruction.

Maybe it was a metaphor for you somehow, for the destruction you had endured your entire life. You couldn’t be bothered to think about it.

A figure drew closer, but you couldn’t bring yourself fully from your thoughts, couldn’t come back down from the natural, protective high.

You felt yourself being pulled to your feet, and arms wrapping around you.

“Jesus Christ, I thought you went home. What are you still doing here?” It was Steve’s voice, engulfed in concern. Your vision focused back in, and the tingling numbness began to leave your limbs, your fingertips. You grasped onto his shirt, feeling the fabric, connecting that with reality, grounding yourself.

You rarely ever grounded yourself. It was just something you preferred not to do, to stay safe and locked away in your thoughts instead.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling back, getting a closer look at you. You focused in to his battered face, heart sinking again at the sight of his injuries. He grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “Did you hear me?”

Something deep within you screamed at you to be responsive for once, and you slowly nodded.

“You’re not hurt are you?” He asked, ignoring his injuries, the blood on his shirt, on his skin.

You shook your head, staring at Steve, in awe he was showing concern about you, when clearly he was the one who needed comforting. Your arms wrapped back around him, surprising yourself as you pulled him close.

“Are you okay?” You managed to ask, fully in focus to reality, to the present. He didn’t answer, and you pulled back, searching his eyes for an answer. All you saw was the hurt, the damage left behind by demons you couldn’t even imagine up in your wildest daydreams.

“Can I tell you the truth?” He looked away, voice cracking. You nodded. “Not at all.”

Your heart broke, and you were fully aware of the reality around you. You wanted to run and hide, away in your safest corners of your daydreams, but you stayed, standing strong in your spot. The urge to disconnect was strong, but the one to stay and help Steve was stronger.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? I don’t want you driving like this.” You managed to say, pulling open the car door for Steve. He hesitated, almost aware how hard this was for you to help someone else, when you couldn’t even really help yourself. You held your gaze strong, until he eventually climbed into the passenger seat. Shutting the door, you hurried around to the other side, starting up the car, and began driving off, destruction of Starcourt growing worse in your rear view mirror.

You drove on, silent, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, though you already did, staying behind when Steve warned you to leave.

Leaning his head against the window, Steve spoke up first, voice quiet, broken. “How much did you see?”

You hesitated, but knew the truth was necessary here, or you wouldn’t be able to comprehend what you saw at all, not on your own. “I heard more than I saw. I was hiding and didn’t come out until I heard fireworks going off. I saw... that thing... and ran.”

“Must be nice to have the option.” He mumbled, though it was loud enough for you to hear, and it stung. You know he didn’t mean harm, not intentionally. What he went through was something you had never endured, and probably never will. “Why’d you stay?”

Turning down a street, you swallowed hard, afraid to answer, unsure what your answer even was. “I dunno, I was worried for you, for everyone. I’ve never seen you so panicked before.”

“There’s a lot you haven’t seen.” He replied, shrugging, as if it was simply nothing. “There’s a lot you choose not to see, too.”

You felt your stomach drop at that. You knew what Steve meant, you just didn’t think anyone else knew. You didn’t think anyone else noticed. You thought you slipped under the radar of concern from anyone, and you grew comfortable with that.

“Where do you go?” He asked, looking ahead at the road. You turned once more, vaguely remembering the way to his house; you had given each other rides once or twice this summer.

You knew what he meant by asking that, and though afraid to answer, you didn’t hesitate to speak up. “Far away. As far away as I can get from here. It helps to distract myself with my own grand, make-believe stories. Beats being stuck in your own hell.”

“Teach me your ways.” He joked dryly, sending you a lazy smile. You blushed, focusing back on the road, turning into his driveway. You parked, but neither of you moved, neither of you left the car.

“It’s still pretty shitty... to be disconnected from reality all the time... I miss out on a lot of my own life.” You admitted softly, staring at the wheel, clutching it tightly. “It’s not something you’d want, you know. You have a good life overall, people who give a shit about you. You don’t want to miss the good stuff.”

“People care about you too.” Steve replied seriously, but you laughed, rolling your eyes. “I mean it.”

“Even so, it’s just another chance to let...” You trailed off, realizing you’ve said far too much already. “... it’s fine. Let me help you inside, okay?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, to question you further, but you dashed out your door, quick to reach his side. You held an arm out as he carefully exited the car, slowly walking him up to the door.

The two of you looked at one another awkwardly, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t planned to stay long, or at all. You just wanted to help. It was the least you could do. A few moments passed as you stared at one another, silence deafening, before finally turning on your heel, starting for the stairs.

Steve reached an arm out, grabbing your hand. You stopped suddenly, turning back to him.

“Stay. Please.” He said, voice wavering again, and though you were wary about letting him, or anyone, in, you nodded, feeling a layer of trust settle between you two.

The house was empty, but Steve didn’t seem too bothered by that fact. As if he sensed your curiosity, he spoke up, “Parents are never home. Probably for the best this time.”

A caring side of you came out, overshadowing the hesitant, cautious side. “Where’s your bathroom? We gotta clean some of these wounds up, or you’ll get infections.”

Surprised by your words and initiative to take action, Steve stared for a moment before nodding to the stairs, and climbing them slowly. You trailed behind.

You began to rummage through the bathroom’s cabinets, well stocked with necessities and more. You wondered what it was like to have a family that actually cared to keep necessities on hand, not leaving their child to fend for themself, at least without resources. Finding rubbing alcohol and cotton wipes, you figured it was a good place to start.

Steve sat at the edge of the tub, and you immediately got to work, gently wiping away the crusted, dried blood, and cleaning any wounds. Anytime it stung, Steve cringed, hissing.

“Oh, c’mon, you got these gnarly battle wounds, and a little rubbing alcohol is gonna bother you?” You teased, and it pulled a smile out of Steve. He watched you closely as you continued on, while you made sure to keep your gaze anywhere but his eyes.

“How do you know about infections so much, hm?” He asked casually, not realizing the weight of the question. “Not like you’re covered in wounds yourself.”

You exhaled deeply, brushing away your nerves. “Sometimes you learn things as you need them.” You hoped that was an answer enough, but of course, Steve being his stubborn self, never knew when to quit.

“What does that mean?” He asked, voice quieter, but still, you caught the question. You shook your head, throwing the bloodied cotton wipes away, and reaching for fresh ones.

“You have your demons,” you started, leaning closely in again to finish cleaning his face. “I have mine.”

“You don’t have to be so secretive all the time.” He mumbled, getting annoyed. You rolled your eyes.

“Done. Rest of the blood is all yours to handle. Most of it is in your hair, anyway.” You said, ignoring his comment. Steve stood up, and you backed against the counter, trying to keep your space.

“Did I do something?” He asked, hurt apparent in his voice, sinking your heart again. “I thought we were friends, I’m sorry if I overstepped boundaries.”

You clamped your eyes shut, shaking your head. “No, it’s not you, it’s ... it’s anyone.”

“You sure? You don’t have to stay, I don’t want to bother-“

“It’s not you, I swear.” You began to ramble. “It really is anyone. I haven’t gotten close to anyone in so long. You and Robin are the first friends I’ve had in years, and even then, I tried to keep my distance.”

“Why?”

“You asked where I go... where my mind goes...” You started, voice cracking. God, you didn’t want this friendship to be exposed to your trauma. It always found a way through the cracks, though. It was a huge part of who you were, it always found a way in to everything else. “I have to keep busy up here.” You pointed to your head, looking away from him before continuing.

“I keep busy and disconnect from real life to stay safe. Doctors call it dissociation, or whatever.” You mumbled, trying to keep tears back, crossing your arms. “My monsters were human. The people raising and guiding me through this life were just monsters in disguise. Those I trusted, helped, bonded with. They were all my demons. It was safer to just... just...”

“Tune out the real world.” Steve finished, understanding. You nodded, feeling tears roll down your face, stinging your skin along the way. “I mean, I get it... kinda’. You do what you can to survive the pain.”

“There’s gaps of time in my life, chunks of memories I don’t remember, can’t remember, because I was so disconnected.” You admitted, brushing your tears away with your hands. “Sorry. Jesus. Here I am crying about my shit when you just dealt with that literal monster.”

Steve shook his head, cautiously reaching a hand out to your arm, and settled it against you slowly. “I’m sorry you saw any of that. And don’t apologize, I asked, because I care. Because it seems like you care too, at least I think so. Seems like it if you’re willing to take care of my ugly mug tonight.”

You laughed softly, sniffling. “Shut up, you still are pretty cute, even with all those bruises.”

“Yeah? You think so?” He asked, smiling, pulling your smile wider in return. “I don’t want to force you into telling me anything, but you can, you know, if you want to. You’re not alone.”

“Neither are you, Steve.” You said sincerely, wrapping him into a hug. Cautiously, he hugged back, softly resting his chin atop your head. Courage built up in your heart, you managed to ask words you’d never imagine asking anyone: “Can I stay?”

You hadn’t felt this much trust with someone in so long, hadn’t let yourself feel it in so long. You’ve knocked down every opportunity that came your way, believing it was safer to be alone. Safer to be lonely. You were wrong, and you were willing to relearn how to let others in after feeling the pull between you and Steve.

Steve pulled back, searching your face for any signs of doubt, a soft smile hiding at the edge of his lips. “I was kinda’ hoping you would.”

——

taglist: @jxnehxpper @harringtown @harrington-ofhawkins (message me if you’d like to be added!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #my fics #made to brave the pain

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years

Text

Deleted Scene; Off-Chance Meeting

What if Jimin met....Jimin?

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, angst, comedy, supernatural

word count: 4.2k

Related works: See masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin

A/n: So this was like....a half developed scene that I was going to put in for Interlude: Second Best buuuuut I didn’t want to make the chapter too long because the main focus was guardian demon!Jimin’s POV from the events in the previous chapter. However! It’s been mentioned as a ‘what-if’ so I completed it as a fun deleted scene. Hope you like it and hope yall are doing okay! take care, be safe and I’ll hopefully see you soon again for another update, this time with story progression LOL

BTW! Thanks for the 1,026 follows!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖

Tag List: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatinagirl @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct

Jimin’s game plan to blend in is quite simple because it really only consists of one step; grab a staff member so that he can duplicate the lanyard ID they have. Even though he promised to not use his powers to you for the most part, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t found ways to work around it. He easily locks onto a target — a male staff exiting the artist room to step out into the hallway Jimin’s in, presumably on a short break as he strides down to stop by a vending machine. The male staff has his head down, eyes glued to his phone for a while until finally, he takes a quick glance up to view the selection of snacks before ducking his head again, clearly in no rush at all.

Jimin’s lips quirk and he makes quick work at slipping closer, steps light and so undetectable that he may as well be a ghost rather than a demon. At the last minute, Jimin cloaks himself, sneaking up on the unsuspecting male just as he reaches into his back pocket to grab some change. The demon’s touch feels nothing more than a draft, fingers barely caressing the back of the colourful lanyard hanging around his neck but it’s all he needs. The male staff carries on, punching in the numbers and watches as the bag of chips falls into the slot below. Taking it, he walks away, none the wiser.

Jimin pays no mind to him anymore, focused on slipping the thin silver chain necklace out from under his shirt and with a soft blow of his breath, the silver chain morphs into the lanyard, a perfect copy. Normally, he would do without a need for something tangible to cast the illusion but this way, he wouldn’t have to use too much magic to keep it up — a weight to the illusion is more believable than simply thin air.

Satisfied, he lets the cloaking spell disperse, rolling his neck a little at the relief that he can finally walk around more freely without the worry of hiding or arousing suspicions.

“Now… where to go?” He mumbles quietly to himself, eyes darting before deciding that he should scope out the way to the area under the stage. Just as he rounds the corner though—

“Woah!”

Jimin’s fast reflexes has him jerking back in time before he collides into the other body. With a step back, his eyes immediately catch sight of the sparkly jacket and they widen almost simultaneously in realization.

Face to face with him was none other than his own mirror, Park Jimin of BTS, only he has honey blond hair and a glowing complexion.

“Ah, I’m really sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” His eyes are a little wide, stormy grey contacts shining as he apologizes.

For a moment, he’s frozen, stuck rigid in place with shock and split second panic before realizing that he has the safety of his mouth mask and drawn up hood to protect his identity of being the idol’s face stealer. Also the fact that the idol has yet to pass out from shock at seeing his own clone or give any sort of huge reaction was a good indicator.

“A-Ah….” The demon’s voice catches in his throat, and he awkwardly coughs, embarrassed as he ducks his head and mutters gruffly in Korean, “No, it’s my mistake.”

The singer smiles amicably, teeth showing and gaze so warm and so friendly that the demon almost has trouble meeting it.

“Hey now, don’t worry! It’s nothing serious.” There’s a pause, a slight tilt of his honey blond head before those artificial stormy grey irises blink, brows furrowing. The demon starts to actually sweat, eyes refusing to meet as he unconsciously begins to lean back to put space in between. But there’s no escaping the curious gaze of the twenty-four year old singer. “Ah, I— I don’t mean to sound rude or offensive but…. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before?”

Oh shit, shit, shit, shit…

He swears his plan would’ve been completely foolproof if he hadn’t ran into the very person he’s going around parading as. The chances of the demon running into said idol was 1 in 200 and yet it’s as if fate had cursed him with the unwanted luck a fan could only dream of having. But there’s no time to curse heaven and fuck all because his mind begins to race with possibilities of escaping this situation. Maybe he could get away with enthralling the idol for a quick second, trick him into thinking this is all some sort of hallucination from being overworked and then when he’s all good and spaced out, the demon can make his escape. His fingers just about twitches when the singer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, face alight with an epiphany.

“Are you perhaps new?”

….What?

A beat unknowingly passes between them, with the demon blinking owlishly at the young man, completely gripped in disbelief and the singer staring back expectantly.

 “Am I mistaken…?”

The hesitancy creeping into that question snaps the demon from his stupor and he finally blurts out, “No, I’m new.”

Relief washes over the idol’s handsome face (he’s never gonna get over how fucking trippy this is to watch), shoulders visibly losing some tension and the singer even places a hand over his chest.

“Ah, that would’ve been really bad — I usually am able to recognize everyone on the team.” His eyes creases again from the smile forming on his face. “Why haven’t we met yet, um….?”

“Ju—“ The demon stumbles on his words, thinking at the last second that your impromptu Korean name you had given him when he met Jaehee sounded too similar to the idol’s so his mind jumps to the next one he remembers off the top of his head. “— yeon….Kang Juyeon. This is my first day.”

Jimin the idol makes a noise of understanding, presumably taking his sloppy introduction as nerves in good strides. He inclines his head graciously in an almost small bow that catches the demon off-guard. “It’s nice to officially meet you Juyeon-ssi. I look forward to working with you.”

He bows robotically in return.

“Are you on break right now?” The young singer asks innocently.

“…Yes…” The answer comes out unsure, like he’s testing the waters and seeing where this could possibly lead — hopefully with the idol leaving him be and carrying on back to the artist room, surely much too busy to entertain a seemingly nervous new recruit. To his surprise though, the demon is proven wrong.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I must be taking up your time. Have you gotten anything to drink or eat yet?”

“Well, no but—“

The idol’s mouth gapes open almost immediately, “Would you like to head over to the catering room now? We can grab something.”

The demon is baffled, to say the least; so taken aback by Jimin’s friendly disposition to someone who he only just met that even though he really shouldn’t be overstaying his welcome like this, a part of him would actually feel guilty for turning down the offer. He’s so glad he’s wearing a mask right now because then the idol wouldn’t have to see the borderline crazed smile slowly stretching over the demon’s lips, the disbelief too strong.

But looking at the original owner of the face he wore, seeing it completely reflect a drastically different personality than his own invokes something in him; a morbid curiosity taking hold and stoking the fire to a long buried question —

Who is Park Jimin?

Beyond the worldwide renown Korean idol and a pretty face with killer vocals and dancing, the demon knows very little about who this person is, this person whom you adore so much. What is it that drew you to him specifically amongst the other members. He highly doubts its looks alone (you’re definitely not the shallow type), or maybe even the amount of talent because from what he gathered, all the members were pretty much on par with each other in all departments.

So what made Jimin special?

He really shouldn’t follow this rabbit down the hole, but he’s a demon by nature and impulsivity is practically his middle name. Without another second thought, he agrees with a nod of his head, “Okay.”

Curiosity really should be a sin.

He gets a blinding smile in response, eyes disappearing and pearly teeth on display (he spies the slight crooked front tooth that somehow only seems to add to the singer’s charm rather than a flaw). They walk off towards the room that acts as a communal dining area for the staff and artists themselves, the large selection of hot foods lined up like a buffet self-serve while there are tables available for anyone who wants to sit down for their meal. There’s only a few staff members gathered there, each preoccupied with their phones or simply grabbing a quick bite to eat before rushing back to where they’re needed.

The singer walks in and of the few people that are hanging around, he inclines his head in greeting to them. The demon has no choice but to follow in order to not draw suspicions (even though he gets a few raised eyebrows from wearing a full hood and mask but is ultimately brushed off).

“There’s a lot of choices here so please help yourself. Don’t be shy.” Jimin gestures, grabbing a plate and going for one of the rolls of kimbap. Though the demon has no intention of eating anything — for obvious reasons, he still makes the effort to thoughtlessly pick out random food items to place on his plate for the sake of keeping up the facade. He gets as far as two scoops of sweet and sour pork before the young idol turns to him and his eyes dart to his modest portion.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Uh…Yes?”

That immediately draws out a noise of disapproval, handsome face pinching along to match the tone. “Ah, Juyeon-ssi; you need to eat to keep up your strength. You can’t hold back on something as important as that.” Before any words of protest can be formed, a kimbap roll is placed on the empty space of the demon’s plate.

And then another.

And then a spring roll.

And then a hefty scoop of black bean noodles and some rice.

It goes on until his plate is adequately full, the idol satisfied as they migrate over to an empty table. The demon takes a seat and he feels his lips quirk as he observes the fact that Jimin’s own plate only consisted of two kimbap rolls and a few pieces of fruit he’s currently nibbling on. The stark contrast and adamancy is already so telling of his character, sans personal dietary considerations.

“Has the job been hard so far?” The singer asks casually.

“Not particularly….”

“Ah, that’s good to hear. Have people been nice to you?”

“Uh…Yeah, I guess.”

He gets a nod of approval, and the demon vaguely likens the feeling of a mother asking their child if their first day of school went well (or if he’s being generous, an older brother). It’s strange experiencing something so familial yet coming from the idol, it all seems so natural as if they’ve known each other for years and not just in the span of less than an hour.

It’s quite the culture shock — something he admittedly doesn’t have a good grasp on and it’s that curiosity to know that has him daringly (or perhaps, no doubt to his colleagues, foolishly) diving deeper. The wooden chopsticks in his hand push around the food on his plate meaninglessly, a gesture meant to disguise the hidden agenda he has; dissecting the idol and seeing what makes him tick.

His lips instinctively quirk under his mask but he makes sure that it doesn’t translate in his gaze as his eyes focus on the idol.

“I’m sure your job is much more tiring.” He says, taking on a tentative tone, implicating for an open ended discussion.

The singer takes a pause, eyes wandering in thought before he sucks in a breath after some serious considerations, “I don’t really think my job is any harder than some of the other staff here…” He stops, as if collecting his thoughts again and then continues, “I think it’s thanks to everyone’s efforts that the members and I are able to do these show successfully and safely. If I were to really break things down…. I really only do a small part.”

“But there’s no point to a show if there’s no performers.”

There’s a hum in reply to his statement but after the idol swallows the strawberry he’s popped into his mouth, he says, “I can see how you would say that, but I think more importantly, there’s no point to a show without the fans.”

The demon doesn’t miss the gentle affection that slips through — that quiet, soft whisper that carries the words near the end, giving way to something much deeper. It’s something he’s seen before, reflected in himself, and it’s whenever his thoughts wander to you.

Fondness.

His chest gives a twinge at the memory, jaw clenching a little as if to physically repress the feelings that begin to stir.

“You don’t even know the fans….” It comes out more as a low murmur to himself, but the contempt underlying his tone seeps through all the same. It’s just…. How could the idol possibly share the same sentiment he has with you, someone who he’s actually spent time with and come to know all the little quirks to — what makes you happy, sad, laugh, the way you laugh, the little noises you make when you eat something you love, see you at your highest and lowest points, with a group of people (not even a single person) who he’s had less than ten seconds worth of interactions?

It’s far too superficial, too scripted and said too many times with no real meaning. He wants to scoff at how impractical it is.

“Maybe so, but it goes beyond that.” The familiar sound of the idol’s lilt halts the demon’s thoughts quite suddenly, still in that soft spoken way but there’s something else with it. A sureness — steady and unwavering, and just the barest hints of….passive-aggressiveness?

That gets a quirk in the eyebrow; so this kitten does have claws after all.

“There are times where I wonder why there are so many people who like us and support us the way they do.” The singer continues seriously, already getting lost in deep thought. “Probably because we work hard, but who doesn’t work hard? Others make good music and do their best too so why us? We try our best to communicate to our fans but everyone does too…..These sorts of things are something I often think about.”

A pause, as if to find the right words, “But whenever I read the fan’s letters or things they post on SNS to us, saying how much we’ve helped them with our songs when they’re going through a hard time, it makes me realize that we’re not so different. We all have flaws and maybe it’s because we’re not perfect that they like us. Starting off with nothing and then little by little, seeing more people coming to support us…. They’re the ones who put us on the stage, so I— We cherish them a lot. They give us energy and comfort us, and we do the same back, like a deep connection, an understanding.”

The young singer stops in pushing around the remaining strawberry on his plate, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips, like he’s recalling a particularly pleasant memory. “So we want to give back by making good music and showing them our best. Ah, reminds of something really cool Namjoon-hyung said.” He takes the time to tilt his head, “He said how even if it’s just one person he could help, he’ll continue to keep trying. That really touched me, so even if we might not know them personally, they’re the ones who motivate us and makes all of this worth it.”

Once he finishes, the demon is left a little more than bewildered, overwhelmed in fact that all he could do was blink. Granted, it was a lot to take in, never having expected such an arduous confession but what’s even more baffling to him is the conviction the singer had saying all of it, so earnest in his words. Now, he’s no lie detector per se, but as a demon, he does have a more innate ability to pick up on cues and inflections that would give a person away, revealing their true nature. He’s used to it after all.

And then along comes Park Jimin.

This twenty-four some odd year old idol, thrusted into the cut-throat world that is the entertainment industry, young and bright-eyed, armed with nothing but potential, a good work ethic and a dream, yet comes out on the other side, a little bruised and scathed but otherwise, un-jaded; that young and bright-eyed innocence not diminished, instead it matured into something more resilient.

He can probably count on his finger how many people he can actually say that about. Hell, the only closest people that would qualify would be saints, and even that is debatable.

It’s....irritating because he’s faced with the fact that as much as he had wanted to dislike this person, he’s proven that he can’t.

A rush of air leaves his nose and he has to contain a rueful smile. “You’re a very admirable person Park Jimin-ssi. Not that many people keep to their beliefs so strongly like that.”

He gets a bashful giggle in return, light and melodic.

“Aish, what are you saying? I’m not all that impressive….I think I still have a lot to learn.” The singer almost whines from behind the back of his hand covering the open mouth smile he has. Once he calms, it softens. “All I really want is for the fans to remember BTS for our sincerity. I just hope that I’ve been able to help convey that so far.”

The demon lets out a breathy chuckle, finally getting up from his seat. He gazes down at this young man who’s face reflects his own yet wears it in such an entirely different way — glowing with a passion and radiance that is warm, sincere, kind, compassionate and loving.

Perhaps the way it’s meant to be worn.

And it’s with a bittersweet reluctance that the demon places a hand on the singer’s shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “Keep doing what you’re doing and never lose sight of yourself. As long as you remember what you’re doing this for, the sincerity of your members and you will be conveyed.”

Stormy grey eyes widen a fraction, a little confused as they blink up at him, clearly not expecting such encouragements (honestly, he didn’t expect this either yet here he is).

“Wh— Um, I—…” The idol reaches a hand up to comb through his meticulously styled hair, tousling a few loose strands as slowly, the apples of his cheeks begin to dust in a pink hue and dark eyes can’t help but watch on in amusement. As if sensing the focus shifting to his quickly reddening face however, the young man lets out a sputter and lightly smacks the demon’s forearm, refusing to meet his gaze. “Ahh Juyeon-ssi! What’s with you saying that all of a sudden to me? You sound as if you’re way older than me when we’re probably friends in age!”

Friends…

“What makes you think that?”

“W-Well… I don’t know how to explain it but…. I feel a sense of familiarity with you when we met. Like, a vibe….” The sentence pewters out into a shy mumble, the tips of his ears matching his cheeks now before comically, grey orbs whip up, suddenly concerned. “Unless you’re not….?”

The snort that leaves the demon’s mouth is quickly covered by clearing his throat but he’s sure the restrained mirth still reaches his eyes as he assures, “No, we’re friends.”

He’s met with a brilliant grin, full of teeth and a twinkle in his gaze. “Oh thank goodness. I would’ve died on the spot out of embarrassment.”

He refrains from rolling his eyes if only to dismiss the overly-dramatic relief that overcame the poor young man. But regardless, it’s his cue to go — he's starting to feel a little too perturbed being near someone so good-natured. With a final pat to his shoulder, the demon begins to depart.

“It was nice talking to you Park Jimin-ssi but you’ll have to excuse me, I have to get going now.”

“O-Oh? Is it really that time? If that’s the case— Ya! Kang Juyeon-ssi! Did you even touch your food? You—!”

“Jimin-hyung!”

“Oh?” Jimin’s attention whips to the new voice that called him from the still full plate of food left on the table. His eyes immediately meet doe-eyed ones, usually dark as coal but are currently a more lighter coffee colour, bringing out more of the brown that’s hidden in its depths thanks to the contacts. The youngest member approaches him with long strides, the sequins on his own stage outfit glitter with each step.

“This is where you were? Should’ve told me you were hungry, we could’ve gone to snack together.”

“Ah, no I was just talking with Juyeon-ssi.”

“Juyeon? Who’s that?”

“Kang Juyeon; that person who was just leaving, you must’ve seen him on your way in.”

But that only gets a head tilt from Jungkook, who swivels his head back towards the entrance, “He doesn’t sound familiar and I didn’t see anyone leaving.”

“….Huh?” Equally confused, Jimin swerves around the tall form of Jungkook to get a look however, to his surprise, he doesn’t see anyone. Glancing around lets him know that at most, there was only three other people in the room, excluding him and Jungkook but they were all immersed on the couch in the far corner, away from the entryway. Does Juyeon walk that fast? “Aye, quit messing with me. He had on a face mask, around my height? With his hoodie pulled up; probably the only one here who does too.”

Jungkook shakes his head, genuinely clueless on who Jimin could possibly be referring to. “No, I swear I haven’t seen anyone around like that.”

The furrow in Jimin’s brows deepen, mouth falling open in disbelief. The scrunched up, troubled expression the older member makes was too good to pass up on teasing so Jungkook can’t help but to lean close, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“What? Were you speaking to a ghost this entire time hyung?”

“Aish! Don’t say that! That actually gave me chills!” Jimin scowls, smacking the youngest repeatedly on the arm and causing Jungkook to cackle and skip away from the assault.

“Anyways, Namjoon-hyung wants to go over the script again so I went to go find you.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then.”

Brushing down his jacket, Jimin gets up, taking both plates with him, discarding his own empty one while Jungkook gleefully takes the one Juyeon hadn’t touched. The two head out and begin to make their way back to the artist dressing room, with Jungkook talking around mouthfuls of food about what Jimin had apparently missed while he was away but all Jimin could think about was his meeting with Juyeon.

There’s no way he could’ve imagined it all in his head — he’s too young to be going senile. Plus, it felt too real for it to be some overworked hallucination (besides, he doesn’t feel that jet lagged). So there’s a perfectly, logical explanation for it. Yeah, he just…walks really fast.

“Jimin-hyung is here!” Jungkook calls out to the rest of the members. He gets a myriad of boisterous responses and greetings. The sound makes him inadvertently grin.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming. I didn’t think you would miss me that badly; I was gone for ten minutes.”

Thoughts of his mysterious friend are pushed away for some other time but the wise words he’s been given remain at the forefront of Jimin’s mind. Perhaps the next time he runs into Juyeon, he’ll treat him to a drink or two during the celebratory dinners — get to know him better.

He’s not sure what it is about Juyeon that makes him want to befriend him so intently, like there’s something about him….

Something that’s a little melancholy….and maybe, he dare say, a little lonely.

But to the singer’s dismay, he never really did see him again.

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mxliv-oftheendless · 4 years

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Twist of Fate, Chapter 1

Oh my, what could this possibly be??? Why, IT’S A NEW KISSTERIAVERSE STORY!!! One that I have been dying to write for so long now omg. I don’t know how this is gonna go down or how you guys will receive it, but I hope you guys like it! **Important note before we start: this story is a major time skip to years in the future. I still haven’t figured out when exactly but it’s before the Reunion Tour.** Special shout-out to @cosmicrealmofkissteria for freaking out with me over ideas for this story for... literal months now lol. Love you, Shandi!

After a messy break-up with Nikki Terror, Starchild has been dedicated to improving himself and growing as an individual. It’s been years since he gave any thought to pursuing a romantic relationship. But will a diplomatic trip to Jendell change his mind?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If Starchild were to ever look back, he would probably berate himself for being such a fool. He had been naïve and idealistic, thinking he could change Nikki Terror by loving him. He had given him everything, ignoring all the warnings from his friends and ignoring all the reasons why he shouldn’t, forgiving Nikki for everything he did, because he thought it would change him for the better. There were so many things wrong with him—and with Nikki, but he was the most concerned about himself by the end.

He would also think sadly about how it ended up taking a major threat from a demon called Blackie, that Nikki himself had Summoned, and KISS teaming up with the Motley Crue to deal with it, to make him realize all of this. He was stressed, angry, tired, and confused, but even amid his confusion, he knew one thing—he couldn’t be with Nikki anymore. For the sake of his sanity and mental health, he couldn’t stay in a relationship that had decayed away to nearly nothing. So he ended it, completely severing their ties.

After that, he focused on himself—if he wanted to be happy, he had to work through his own problems that he had avoided or ignored for so long. So he did. He meditated; he started keeping a diary; he focused on KISS and his friends; he even found himself drawing again. He hadn’t picked up his sketchbook in years, not since leaving KISSteria with Demon, Ace, and Catman to form KISS. He took his duties as KISSteria’s Prince more seriously, finding books on politics from both Earth and his home and soaking up as much information as he could. He tried to forgive himself when he made a mistake, rather than consider himself a failure. Slowly, but surely, piece by piece, he dried his eyes, put his shattered heart back together and moved on. He always remembered how envious he was of Demon and Vinneketh’s loving relationship—if he couldn’t have someone who loved him like that, then he would try to love himself.

Life went on around him, and he tried to move with it. Revenge was recorded and they went on tour, and he tried embracing another side of himself; one that was loud and proud and swore and was outspoken and had fun. He liked that side of himself, and how he was able to embrace it and have fun with it without any strings attached. The years went by, blurred together, until one day he heard someone mention Motley Crue and Nikki Sixx… and he felt nothing. He simply smiled to himself and went back to the book he was reading. He was okay; he was sure now. He was going to be okay. He still felt like he had miles to go, even after years, but he was willing to try. Whether he succeeded or failed, or did both, he wanted to at least try.

“Starchild?”

Starchild blinked and pulled himself out of his thoughts. He turned from gazing out the ship window to the Elder. “Yes, Mother?”

“Are you all right? You’ve been quiet for a while now.”

Nodding, Starchild smiled slightly. “Yes, I am. I was just thinking.”

“A good pastime. What were you thinking about?”

He shrugged. “About our trip. I’m excited; I haven’t visited Jendell in years.”

“That is right, you haven’t. Would you be more excited if it weren’t for diplomacy? Gods know I would be.”

Starchild laughed with her. “I would, but I’m still excited. Diplomacy is important if we want to maintain our friendship with Jendell. If it means more years of peace, I’ll gladly participate.”

A slow smile came to the Elder’s face, and Starchild had decided after years of seeing it that he loved that smile—it meant she approved of his words and was proud of his words. No feeling in the world could match knowing he had his mother’s approval and feeling like he deserved it. “I’m very glad to hear that. The meetings will be numerous, and taxing, but they will be worth it.”

“I hope so,”

They were nearly there, so Starchild went back to looking out the window. Truth be told, he was mostly excited, but still a little nervous. He hadn’t seen Ace in years, only once after he married Princess Amalthea. And even then, it was awkward and painful, and he ended up avoiding him the entire time. Hopefully, things would be better this time.

When the ship landed, he could see a gathering of Jendellian officials waiting for them, and at the very front was Ace and Amalthea, with Tomaziel beside the King as always. It was nice to see Tomaziel was still Ace’s aide, as loyal and dedicated as ever.

Starchild and the Elder stood to get off the ship, and let the procession go first before them. The Elder went first, and Starchild paused to fix his black cloak patterned with silver stars before following behind her.

“Welcome, Elder,” Ace greeted, dressed in royal Jendellian robes. He gave them both a wide smile. “Welcome, Prince Starchild. Thank you for agreeing to make the journey.”

“I hope it was not a difficult one,” Amalthea said, dipping into a respectful curtsy.

The Elder smiled warmly at her. “You needn’t bow to your friends, Queen Amalthea. But no, the journey was far from difficult.”

“We were happy to make it,” Starchild spoke up, smiling respectfully.

Ace turned his eyes to him and smiled wider. “It’s good to see you again, Starchild,”

Starchild’s own smile widened. “It’s good to see you too, Ace,”

Then he suddenly found himself pulled into a hug, a friendly one. The two old acquaintances shared a laugh, and he felt a surge of happiness at the hug. It was a friendly one, yes, but he hoped it meant there were no hard feelings. All his worrying about how Ace would react to seeing him again faded away.

When Ace let him go, he turned to Amalthea and bowed his head to her. “Queen Amalthea. It’s lovely to see you looking so radiant.”

Amalthea laughed and returned the bow. “Why, thank you,”

Then Starchild turned to Tomaziel and nodded to him. “It’s good to see you again, too, Tomaziel,”

“The feeling is mutual, Prince Starchild,” Tomaziel bowed his head, then looked up in slight surprise when Starchild came forward and offered his hand. He looked up at Starchild, who only smiled invitingly, then back down at the extended hand. A small smile came to his face, and he reached out to take the hand and shake it.

But when their hands touched, Starchild jerked his away when he felt a sudden static shock and gave a surprised yelp. “Ow!”

Panic immediately came to Tomaziel’s face. “I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up apologetically. “It was an accident! I swear, I did not mean to do that. I’m still learning how to control my electricity—I shouldn’t have done that. I am so sorry!”

“It’s all right, Tomaziel,” Starchild interrupted. He showed his hand. “I am perfectly fine. It was an accident, I understand. Really, it’s all right.”

Tomaziel briefly stared at him, then relaxed. “If you say so, Prince Starchild,”

“I do say so,” Starchild gave him a kind smile. “I could tell you about so many times where accidents happened because my own powers weren’t under control.”

Amalthea interrupted politely. “Shall we have our servants show you to your rooms? You would surely like to rest a bit before dinner.”

The Elder nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you. I am not as young as I used to be,” she added, smiling jokingly.

The five laughed and entered the palace.

-JENDELL-

Later that evening, Starchild stood in front of his mirror as he prepared for dinner. He set down his comb and looked over his reflection. It was still a little difficult for him to look at his reflection and not immediately see little things wrong with his appearance; especially now when he had to make an impression to so many Jendellian government officials. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking out his nerves, and opened his eyes to look again. He smiled at himself—he looked good. It was good enough for him. It would be good enough for the rest.

He had been walking down the hallway to the dining hall alone for a while when he turned a corner and almost crashed into Ace. They both froze in time, then Ace laughed. “Glad I stopped; I would’ve ruined your outfit.”

“And we definitely can’t have that happen,” Starchild chuckled. “If I nearly ran into you… Does that mean I was going the wrong way?”

Laughing again, Ace nodded. “I think you were,”

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Starchild shrugged sheepishly. “Could we walk together?”

“Sure. Amalthea and Tomaziel are already there anyways.” He grinned at him. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we ended up being the only ones left to arrive?”

Giggling, Starchild shrugged again. “Then we’ll be fashionably late,”

They set off down the hallway, and after a moment of silence Ace spoke again. “So… How are you? How have you been?”

Starchild thought for a moment before answering. “I’ve been alright. And you?”

Ace smiled. “I have a daughter now,”

“That’s wonderful! What’s her name?”

“Her name is Monique.” He laughed lightly. “She almost threw a tantrum when she learned she wouldn’t get to see the KISSterians arrive today. She’s been talking about how excited she is to meet you and the Elder since she learned you were coming.”

Starchild chuckled. “I can’t wait to meet her,”

“Knowing her, she’ll find a way to sneak away from her governess and seek you out herself,”

“Well I shall await that moment with bated breath,”

Ace laughed. “And what about the band? Did you…” here he sobered. “Did you find a replacement for Fox?”

Starchild’s smile faded at the thought of Fox. The loss of one of his dear friends still pained him. “We did. Catman was the one who suggested him. Eryk, the Wildcat Apprentice.”

Ace raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Eryk?” He smiled. “That’s great; I always liked him. What about Bla—Heather? Is she still traveling around with you?”

Starchild’s head lowered sadly. “No… She left. She didn’t want to be a burden.”

Ace looked away sadly. “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be. It was her decision, and I couldn’t have stopped her even if I tried… And I tried. I hope she finds the peace she deserves.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Ace laughed nervously, “I keep asking ya questions…”

Starchild shook his head, smiling. “It’s all right. You’ve missed a lot.”

“Okay… I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I heard…” he paused, “I heard you cut ties with Nikki Terror.”

Starchild’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Yes, I did. I reflected on everything, and I realized being with him was doing me more harm than good. I,” he shrugged, “I couldn’t even tell myself a good enough reason to stay, by the end. So I ended things.”

Ace nodded slowly. “Okay… And how have things been for you since?”

“Honestly?” He smiled again. “Things have been lovely. I’m trying to be a better person than I was before, and to be honest… I’m happier with myself than I was before.”

“I thought so,” Ace smiled at him. “I can see it. If you’re happy with the way you are, then I think what you’re doing is great.”

Starchild returned the smile. “Thank you,”

They finally approached the doors to the dining hall. Starchild heard voices through the doors and laughed. “It looks like we are the last to arrive,”

Ace laughed out loud. “Guess we’re gonna be fashionably late!”

He was about to request that the guards open the doors for them when Starchild suddenly stopped him. “Wait… There’s something I need to ask you.”

Ace turned to him. “Yeah?”

Starchild took a breath and went on. “I know the last time I was here… wasn’t the best of times. If it hurt you, the way I acted, I’m sorry. You’re clearly happy married to Amalthea, and I would never do anything to jeopardize your happiness, so…” he extended his hand with a nervous smile, “could we still be friends?”

There was a moment of silence where Ace looked down at his extended hand. Starchild’s heart thumped nervously as he waited for his response. Then a wide grin burst across Ace’s face and he took Starchild’s hand. “Of course we can still be friends. I still care about ya, Starchild, even if we aren’t together anymore.”

Starchild grinned happily and hugged Ace tightly. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me,”

When he pulled away, Ace grinned at him. “Well—c’mon, friend. Let’s go have dinner; I’m starving.”

Laughing, Starchild followed him the rest of the way down the hall. “Same here, friend,”

He entered the dining hall alongside Ace with a much brighter mood than when they arrived. His nerves were gone, and he was looking forward eagerly to the next three weeks. This was going to be a good trip—he was sure of it, now.

#Shandi's KISSteriaverse #twist of fate #chapter one #i am so excited you guys omg #full disclosure: i'm also a little nervous about the quality of this because i haven't written a lot of slow-burn romance before #but i hope it's good #starchild's doing all the personal growth and i'm so proud of him #spacechild #kiss au writing #my writing #hope you enjoyed!#stay tuned for chapter two!

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