19 Works by Vantasassy
Listing Works
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That boy always was one to stand out from the crowd – always was one to be noticed, to be loved, to be seen and heard and surrounded by people. Kageyama was the opposite. He was a shadow – all dark colours and sharp edges. He wasn’t meant to stand out, wasn’t meant to be noticed.
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Sometimes there’s cheering around them – raucous when at nationals, dwindling as you dip down into regional’s, and then sectionals – and sometimes there’s nothing but Rei and Nagisa’s chatter in the background, or the splash of water beside them as one of their friends dives into their lane. The scene changes, morphs, and every time Haru finishes his laps there’s a different view to his every breach of the water’s surface. There’s no constant. No scenery ever repeats itself, and no setting is ever duplicated exactly. But despite the morphing and shifting and changing of their surroundings, there’s one thing that always, always remains the same.
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He’d said he hated you.
You didn’t doubt him, nor did you blame him. You kind of hated you too.
Series
- Part 1 of Find Me
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Red drips – you run, you hide. Mustard text and teal letters. You’re warned, you don’t listen. A sudden responsibility. You asked for it; you wanted to be the leader but now you realise how much of a weight that is and your shoulders feel heavy, oh so heavy. You enter, you shout, you rant. Angry walls of grey text that you’re pretty sure nobody pays attention to. He dies, you cry. He’s back, and you’re furious. He’s an idiot, stupid words dyed royal blue and you hate him, you hate him so much.
Series
- Part 2 of Memories
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You remember. You remember everything. The blazing heat of the sun that day – almost six years ago now – the pain of a thousand deaths lingering in your mind. You remember the bright red hue of the lava pooling in your land, and the orange of your alternate selves wings. You remember red meeting purple for the first time, and red meeting green. You remember angry blocks of grey text, and a mishmash of numbers and letters inked in teal. You remember dying and then re-emerging from the dust a new boy; purpose suddenly bestowed upon you in the form of ruby material and a clockwork symbol.
Series
- Part 1 of Memories
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You love it when Kankri’s asleep, not a word breaching his lips.
You love the silence, you really do.
But you love it much more when he’s awake.
No, scrap that.
You just really love HIM.Series
- Part 4 of Sleepy Morning Drabbles
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“How so, Tuna?” You ask and he sticks his tongue out at you, the light catching on the small golden bee in the middle of the organ. You squint and lift your two toned glasses off your face to get a better look. A grin cracks your lips and you poke your own tongue out, showing him your own tongue piercing – not a small little bumble bee like his, but merely a discreet golden ball. You wriggle your tongue around, smiling wide. “You’re right, Mituna. We match. That looks rad bro.”
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“Really bro, you’re really gonna play this game?” The only response you give is a wink, and Dave sighs, taking another step forwards until he’s by the side of the bed.
Series
- Part 3 of Sleepy Morning Drabbles
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All you can feel is his heart beating against your chest, in time with your own.
His breath against your skin, and his body pressed firmly against yours.
And you think is that you could definitely get used to this.Series
- Part 2 of Sleepy Morning Drabbles
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“Fuck you.” Eridan replies, and you can feel his smile against your skin. You chuckle and sigh, closing your eyes and letting the smirk drift into a smile as you take a deep breath and let it out.
“Love you too.”Series
- Part 1 of Sleepy Morning Drabbles
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You sigh and lean your head back against the seat of your chair, closing your eyes and letting a few loose black bangs fall in your face. He’s not coming. Damn it. There are footsteps to your right, most likely the waitress coming back once again to ask if you want anything to eat. You squeeze your eyelids together even further before opening them to turn to the impatient teenager and tell her no you don’t want any food.
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You open and close your mouth before silently letting go of his hand and lurching forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. His hands hover in his shock, not quite sure what to do, until he eventually hugs you back, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you close.
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Your heart freezes in your chest as soon as you lay eyes on him. He was missing part of his right leg, as he had told you in his last letter, and he was having to use crutches to support himself. But honestly, you didn’t care. Because he was here and he was home and he this time he was staying.
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And then the door slammed shut, rattling the chest of drawers that stood in the hallway and leaving Dirk on his own, tears running down his face and whole frame trembling as he tried to stop himself from sobbing and screaming and crying his eyes out until he was a shrivelled up mess.
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He had never thought about it until he first got his sickles for his birthday all those sweeps ago. They had been a present from his lusus, and he had been so excited. He thought that this was his way of saying ‘Go son, join the others’. But it wasn’t – it was a way to defend himself from those who wanted to kill him for being ‘mutant scum’. He knew that now.
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Karkat and John do the do and John discovers something about trolls and their bulges.
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He was a legend, his name known by everyone, everywhere, all across the world. The only known pilot to be able to control a Jaeger solo, with no co-pilot. He was one of a kind. And he was Dave’s brother – his idol. Since the very first time he had seen his bro return from fighting one of those beasts, dubbed the Haiju by the people of the world, and step out of that robot in his metal breasted suit, Dave had known his goal in life. He was meant to follow in his brothers footsteps; live up to the Strider name.
He was meant to be...
A Jaeger Pilot.
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“Shh... Oh Dave... Shh...” He whispered. “I’m not going anywhere... I promise. I’m not going to leave you alone, Dave. Shh...”
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They had always been there, for as long as you could remember. Twelve idle Chumhandles that wouldn’t light up no matter what you did. Hell, they seemed to be completely inactive, not just idle. As if the holders were in a place that you couldn’t connect to. Your mind liked to imagine a far off Galaxy, on a planet filled with strange, somewhat violent Aliens. But you knew that was just fantasy, because after all, aliens didn’t exist right? Neither did magic, or anything like that. It was all just child’s play, and you were much too old for that now.