Read introduction and headcanons first, please!
Welcome to my JSAB oneshot book! Here you'll find bits of my AU and personal headcanons for the lovable shape characters of the videogame Just Shapes and Beats. I don't always write fluff and I update...
This is a vent oneshot, so I'll add some notes first
- Some things, like Cyan's worries, may not be canon. - This is not selfcest; none of this is romantic. - Things are vague and cryptic because this is a vent oneshot. No, I'm not okay, but I don't want to talk about it.
With that out of the way, enjoy some interaction between Cyan and Crimson.
oOo
Well, he found himself in this void again.
It was the strange sensation of being conscious in the dream realm, awake while asleep. Empty and cold yet warm and welcoming at the same time. But as strange as it was, he found this realm familiar.
Familiar only because this was always where he would end up at his worst moments, and he had had plenty of those.
Now was not an exception.
Cyan felt his chest rise and fall faster as his breathing accelerated. Thoughts were flooding, echoing, screeching. His hands felt about his soft blue hair and gripped hard as hot tears welled up in his eyes but never spilled. Lead filled his veins and he fell to his knees, curling into a ball, sobbing, whimpering, but no tears fell. Flames were eating up his entire reality.
He felt lost.
Lost.
Until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Cyan, this may be one of the worst I've seen you in this void. Are you alright?"
His throat felt tight with unreleased sobs as he looked up to see a face more familiar than any — his own. But his features were pink, the teeth he would bare when he smiles were fanged and his clothing was odd; his shirt ripped and his dark cloak flowed past his knees.
Upon seeing his counterpart, the deafening screams died away and now the two were the only beings in this void — but Cyan looked away. "I... it's nothing, Crimson. I'm fine." His voice was hoarse.
"Ah, you know there's no point in lying to me, you fool," Crimson murmured, lowering himself down to sit next to Cyan. He snapped his finger and pink flames silently sprang in front of the two, resembling a pink fireplace.
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(This sketch was made ages before I wrote this oneshot, so the atmosphere and expressions may seem a little different. I only realised it would fit with this oneshot.)
"I am a fool," Cyan muttered. Silence fell again, and the firelight reflected in Cyan's almost lifeless pupils as he stared into them.
Crimson tilted his head to look at the boy. He would've taunted him for his show of weakness, go physical even, but things have changed. Cyan himself already wouldn't mind his counterpart's presence.
Sharing a mind would only mean coming to terms with each other.
"Are you now?" Crimson spoke, breaking the short silence. "I am a figment of your mind. I know when something's wrong. But times have changed and I won't understand what exactly is wrong unless you let me know. So, would you tell me, Cyan?"
For a while, Cyan didn't answer. He continued to stare into the dancing fire like it was the only thing in his life. He stayed still as a statue, not showing any sign that he would answer anytime soon — but Crimson waited nonetheless. It's not like they were going anywhere.
"Useless..." Cyan breathed after five minutes. "Why is it... when you give the most to someone... and you think you're the one they trust the most... it turns out to be someone else?
"You weren't the first choice when the worst times arrived. You're just... there. Ignored. Forced to stay behind. You're stuck thinking: have I done too much? Have I done too little? Useless. I feel... useless."
Crimson didn't speak as Cyan's breath hitched. His pale blue fingers gripped at his blazer.
"Selfish," Cyan hissed. His breathing quickened again and tears finally spilled from his eyes. "I'm selfish!" he roared."I shouldn't complain! I'm not one to decide how important I am to someone. Y-you have to earn it. Work hard." He paused, trembling.
"...But I thought I have..."
At long last, he broke. Tears streamed like a waterfall from his eyes into his sleeves as his throat released choked sobs. He couldn't take it. He wanted everything to stop.
He felt an arm curl warmly around his waist as Crimson pulled him against his larger body. The Corrupted man's face was neutral, but there were the smallest shreds of sympathy in his sharp eyes as he held the crying teenager.
"I may not know how to console you," he said, "but you can stay here for as long as you'd like."
