[fanfic] Never
Title: Never
Pairing: none. Junsu Centric with OT5
Genre: drama. angst. friendship. AU.
Rating: PG
Words: 1 741
Warning: unbetad. depressing (lol)
Summary: What do you need to be able to sing?
Thanks to: kitkii because she always encourages me, because with her help I was able to write this. i love you
Disclaimer: Don't own DBSK.
A/N:
I just wanted to write something, but every time I got a start I couldn't continue x-x
It was really bad~
Then I talked with kit-chan and idk, I followed her advice and just began to write and this came out. I didn't intend to write about DBSK or any other band, but this came out.
I am sorry of it's confusing and makes no sense. It didn't had to make sense, I just wanted to write to get it off my soul. lol
I wrote it at almost 4am in the morning so, sorry for any stupid mistakes I made.
I won't tell you which POV this is. At the end you will know it, then you can read it again with a different feeling maybe?!
And I am kind of really proud of this. Because I always wanted to write AU and never really did it, idk. I am not the kind of writer for AUs, especially not at the moment x-x
But this world-end-AU came out~ haha
Please enjoy and leave a comment <3
~
You wanted to sing but no words came out, no sound that could be heard. Your throat ached and you grabbed it with both hands, holding and pressing until it hurt more than before, a different kind of pain.
A whisper in your head, hurting your from inside.
“You will never be able to sing.”
A scream, loud and audible and yet too quiet for your ears.
“Not even if the world dies the next second.”
You could talk, whisper and scream. You could even hum and you made up many melodies but never came one word of a song out of you.
Your eyes had no tears anymore for your voice.
“Never.”
A word that hurt you almost more than the pain, than the silence around you and inside you.
You whispered, whispered the words from inside your head to the outside but nobody was near to hear you.
You tried and tried, never giving up your dream, your goal, your happiness you were sure you would win through this. There was this missing spot right beside your heart and between your voice and soul.
You grew up and became older and still no song had come out of his throat.
You heard music all day, trying to sing along with the many people who could sing, but ‘never’ meant ‘never’.
The years went by and you reached your twenty birthday, not any different from before, until the news came on.
A stupid show said the world would end tomorrow, a few believed them and more and more and suddenly everyone said the world would end tomorrow.
Your smile was sad and you remembered the whisper which had stopped long ago.
“Not even if the world dies the next second.” “Never.”
You waited and tried and tried and never gave up.
When you went to bed, hands clutched at your throat, dreaming from your voice and how it soared high above the whisper and all the songs you ever heard, the world was still moving.
When you woke up the world stood still.
The sound had left and when you tried to turn on the radio nothing came out. You tried the mp3 player and mobile phone. Nothing. Just silence and a whisper outside your door.
You walked out and saw the world’s end.
“The world ended and I still can’t sing.”
Your smile was sad and you didn’t even wonder why nobody was there beside yourself.
Your walk was long and you only stopped to drink or eat something.
When you arrived at the ocean the wind was strong and you could feel how any words were carried away from your mouth, out of your mouth. You could hear someone sing and the pain hit you too hard when you turned around to face the singer.
You stared at someone around your age, maybe older, dark hair and closed eyes.
He looked normal, not like any famous singer or popstar, but just like you.
The wind carried the voice to you and you could listen to the only sound around him, quiet and without even wanting it.
When it stopped you met the coldest and deepest eyes you ever saw and a smile, etched like new onto the stranger’s lips.
The words you said were carried away, just like the ones from the stranger and you had to smile, true and small, but earnest.
You stayed at your place while the other man walked to you, slowly and so carefully like you could be a wild animal.
When he stood in front of you, you tried to speak again, but no sound was heard and you sat down in silence.
The sand under you was wet and the stranger wrote his name. Jaejoong. He smiled, before you both stared into the sky, silent and yet comfortable.
You wanted to listen to his voice, to the song again, just to blend out the wind who took away your words.
When you noticed how the other stood up, you followed him, wanted to ask where he headed to but then you heard it as well.
A faint sound, almost not audible, but it was there, something different than the wind.
You followed the sound, felt almost how it became stronger until the low bass vibrated through you two and took them to the singer.
His figure was fragile and different than yours, but his voice was strong and deep, sensitive like rough sand paper doubled with silk.
He didn’t seem to notice your presence but then another voice sounded and blended together with his.
Now there were two singers with you, two men with voices so strong and loud, so loud.
The pain appeared again, but it softened, it eased inside you and you felt how the smile, etched onto Jaejoong’s and the stranger’s face, fell onto your own lips.
You closed your eyes and followed the song with your ears, your heart and felt something break inside you.
You tried, tried again and again, but your hands still clutched onto your throat, heavy and painful, until cold hands took them away.
It was silent again, still the wind, but no voices around you and you looked at the fragile and yet strong fingers who took your hands away from your throat.
They wrote a name on your hand and you held them a moment longer. Yoochun.
Their hands were cold against your own and you held them while continuing your walk through a world that has lost all people but you and all sound but the wind and the voices, Jaejoong and Yoochun, when they sang.
You became tired and cuddled up with them on the bare ground. It wasn’t cold, just their hands, but you still held them.
Arms wrapped around your waist made you feel safe and you didn’t know why but it seemed right, just right this way.
You held tight onto them and yet were surprised when they still were there in the morning, evening, noon.
They smile slowly faded away and you sometimes pressed your fingertips against it to make it appear again, but it didn’t happen.
Sometimes you felt a hand stroking your back or fingers tickling your neck, cold but comfortable and so familiar like the pain inside you.
They didn’t sing again and you didn’t ask them.
They walked for a while ahead of you, still along the ocean and on the sand, when they turned around, facing not you but something next to you.
You also heard it, something faint and still there, like the previous one. A sound, different than the wind, the wind you still heard so clearly as if it didn’t surrounded you for hours, days, months.
Their hands linked again with yours and you walked with them, further away from the ocean but still on sand, hard and soft under your feet.
The voice this time was high pitched and clear, like a morning you never saw since the end.
The stranger was tall and young, younger than you but so tall. His fingers played the melody to his voice and the pain inside flickered through, eased down and flickered again, just calmer.
You knew what was to come and the next moment you heard the voices next to you. It still surprised you when they broke the contact with you and walked over the man, standing between you and him, his voice and their voices and you.
The pain more visible, more tangible inside you and you watched your hands, imagining the burn you felt every time they went back to their place on your throat.
This time it happens in slow motion and you didn’t even realize it until now three men stood in front of you and the sound faded and you watch the eyes of the stranger flicker, burning a bit with a flame you wished you had.
His fingers stroked over your throat while their hands again held your own, away from the burn.
Cold fingers wrote a name on your throat you just added to the others. Changmin.
He didn’t walk next to you, but at the end, held no hands and lost track from time to time. You never really lose him though and always waited for him when he took more time.
His tall figure never went ahead, but it was like a shadow behind you protecting your way.
He didn’t sleep and watched over you like a father, though he was younger and sharper than any of you.
Sometimes you sat next to him, watched his fingers still playing melodies though you couldn’t hear his voice. You could almost hear the music playing in his head, though and it made you sad.
You never heard anything except the wind and the three times you could listen to their voices, their sound. When he looked at you, you knew he didn’t hear anything else or more than you.
The next voice found you, calm and soft and yet so strong that you stopped in your walk and let him come closer.
His voice spoke of maturity and his face was the most serious and soft. You were suddenly startled when their voices rose up next to you, so close that you could feel their breath on your skin.
Your hands still got up to grab your throat. You tried and tried and the pain rose together with the voices.
His eyes spoke with you when the sound faded away and his hands grabbed your face, held it for a moment, soft and firm.
A whisper from one finger on your cheek, the fourth name you learned. Yunho.
You didn’t start to walk again, feeling too attached to the ground, all sand and hard and soft under your feet.
They moved a bit aside and you watched on the ocean, how the wind churned the water and suddenly it was silent. You watched the wind but couldn’t hear it anymore.
Surprised you looked at the four men next to you, who stared at you like they expected something, but not too much, not too hard. Their smiles opening slowly and their eyes closing.
You could feel the pain raising inside you, but before you could try, before your hands could burn it away, their hands held you and their voices took you high, higher until you could fly alone, for yourself.
You didn’t try. You just did it.
You sang.
Pairing: none. Junsu Centric with OT5
Genre: drama. angst. friendship. AU.
Rating: PG
Words: 1 741
Warning: unbetad. depressing (lol)
Summary: What do you need to be able to sing?
Thanks to: kitkii because she always encourages me, because with her help I was able to write this. i love you
Disclaimer: Don't own DBSK.
A/N:
I just wanted to write something, but every time I got a start I couldn't continue x-x
It was really bad~
Then I talked with kit-chan and idk, I followed her advice and just began to write and this came out. I didn't intend to write about DBSK or any other band, but this came out.
I am sorry of it's confusing and makes no sense. It didn't had to make sense, I just wanted to write to get it off my soul. lol
I wrote it at almost 4am in the morning so, sorry for any stupid mistakes I made.
I won't tell you which POV this is. At the end you will know it, then you can read it again with a different feeling maybe?!
And I am kind of really proud of this. Because I always wanted to write AU and never really did it, idk. I am not the kind of writer for AUs, especially not at the moment x-x
But this world-end-AU came out~ haha
Please enjoy and leave a comment <3
~
You wanted to sing but no words came out, no sound that could be heard. Your throat ached and you grabbed it with both hands, holding and pressing until it hurt more than before, a different kind of pain.
A whisper in your head, hurting your from inside.
“You will never be able to sing.”
A scream, loud and audible and yet too quiet for your ears.
“Not even if the world dies the next second.”
You could talk, whisper and scream. You could even hum and you made up many melodies but never came one word of a song out of you.
Your eyes had no tears anymore for your voice.
“Never.”
A word that hurt you almost more than the pain, than the silence around you and inside you.
You whispered, whispered the words from inside your head to the outside but nobody was near to hear you.
You tried and tried, never giving up your dream, your goal, your happiness you were sure you would win through this. There was this missing spot right beside your heart and between your voice and soul.
You grew up and became older and still no song had come out of his throat.
You heard music all day, trying to sing along with the many people who could sing, but ‘never’ meant ‘never’.
The years went by and you reached your twenty birthday, not any different from before, until the news came on.
A stupid show said the world would end tomorrow, a few believed them and more and more and suddenly everyone said the world would end tomorrow.
Your smile was sad and you remembered the whisper which had stopped long ago.
“Not even if the world dies the next second.” “Never.”
You waited and tried and tried and never gave up.
When you went to bed, hands clutched at your throat, dreaming from your voice and how it soared high above the whisper and all the songs you ever heard, the world was still moving.
When you woke up the world stood still.
The sound had left and when you tried to turn on the radio nothing came out. You tried the mp3 player and mobile phone. Nothing. Just silence and a whisper outside your door.
You walked out and saw the world’s end.
“The world ended and I still can’t sing.”
Your smile was sad and you didn’t even wonder why nobody was there beside yourself.
Your walk was long and you only stopped to drink or eat something.
When you arrived at the ocean the wind was strong and you could feel how any words were carried away from your mouth, out of your mouth. You could hear someone sing and the pain hit you too hard when you turned around to face the singer.
You stared at someone around your age, maybe older, dark hair and closed eyes.
He looked normal, not like any famous singer or popstar, but just like you.
The wind carried the voice to you and you could listen to the only sound around him, quiet and without even wanting it.
When it stopped you met the coldest and deepest eyes you ever saw and a smile, etched like new onto the stranger’s lips.
The words you said were carried away, just like the ones from the stranger and you had to smile, true and small, but earnest.
You stayed at your place while the other man walked to you, slowly and so carefully like you could be a wild animal.
When he stood in front of you, you tried to speak again, but no sound was heard and you sat down in silence.
The sand under you was wet and the stranger wrote his name. Jaejoong. He smiled, before you both stared into the sky, silent and yet comfortable.
You wanted to listen to his voice, to the song again, just to blend out the wind who took away your words.
When you noticed how the other stood up, you followed him, wanted to ask where he headed to but then you heard it as well.
A faint sound, almost not audible, but it was there, something different than the wind.
You followed the sound, felt almost how it became stronger until the low bass vibrated through you two and took them to the singer.
His figure was fragile and different than yours, but his voice was strong and deep, sensitive like rough sand paper doubled with silk.
He didn’t seem to notice your presence but then another voice sounded and blended together with his.
Now there were two singers with you, two men with voices so strong and loud, so loud.
The pain appeared again, but it softened, it eased inside you and you felt how the smile, etched onto Jaejoong’s and the stranger’s face, fell onto your own lips.
You closed your eyes and followed the song with your ears, your heart and felt something break inside you.
You tried, tried again and again, but your hands still clutched onto your throat, heavy and painful, until cold hands took them away.
It was silent again, still the wind, but no voices around you and you looked at the fragile and yet strong fingers who took your hands away from your throat.
They wrote a name on your hand and you held them a moment longer. Yoochun.
Their hands were cold against your own and you held them while continuing your walk through a world that has lost all people but you and all sound but the wind and the voices, Jaejoong and Yoochun, when they sang.
You became tired and cuddled up with them on the bare ground. It wasn’t cold, just their hands, but you still held them.
Arms wrapped around your waist made you feel safe and you didn’t know why but it seemed right, just right this way.
You held tight onto them and yet were surprised when they still were there in the morning, evening, noon.
They smile slowly faded away and you sometimes pressed your fingertips against it to make it appear again, but it didn’t happen.
Sometimes you felt a hand stroking your back or fingers tickling your neck, cold but comfortable and so familiar like the pain inside you.
They didn’t sing again and you didn’t ask them.
They walked for a while ahead of you, still along the ocean and on the sand, when they turned around, facing not you but something next to you.
You also heard it, something faint and still there, like the previous one. A sound, different than the wind, the wind you still heard so clearly as if it didn’t surrounded you for hours, days, months.
Their hands linked again with yours and you walked with them, further away from the ocean but still on sand, hard and soft under your feet.
The voice this time was high pitched and clear, like a morning you never saw since the end.
The stranger was tall and young, younger than you but so tall. His fingers played the melody to his voice and the pain inside flickered through, eased down and flickered again, just calmer.
You knew what was to come and the next moment you heard the voices next to you. It still surprised you when they broke the contact with you and walked over the man, standing between you and him, his voice and their voices and you.
The pain more visible, more tangible inside you and you watched your hands, imagining the burn you felt every time they went back to their place on your throat.
This time it happens in slow motion and you didn’t even realize it until now three men stood in front of you and the sound faded and you watch the eyes of the stranger flicker, burning a bit with a flame you wished you had.
His fingers stroked over your throat while their hands again held your own, away from the burn.
Cold fingers wrote a name on your throat you just added to the others. Changmin.
He didn’t walk next to you, but at the end, held no hands and lost track from time to time. You never really lose him though and always waited for him when he took more time.
His tall figure never went ahead, but it was like a shadow behind you protecting your way.
He didn’t sleep and watched over you like a father, though he was younger and sharper than any of you.
Sometimes you sat next to him, watched his fingers still playing melodies though you couldn’t hear his voice. You could almost hear the music playing in his head, though and it made you sad.
You never heard anything except the wind and the three times you could listen to their voices, their sound. When he looked at you, you knew he didn’t hear anything else or more than you.
The next voice found you, calm and soft and yet so strong that you stopped in your walk and let him come closer.
His voice spoke of maturity and his face was the most serious and soft. You were suddenly startled when their voices rose up next to you, so close that you could feel their breath on your skin.
Your hands still got up to grab your throat. You tried and tried and the pain rose together with the voices.
His eyes spoke with you when the sound faded away and his hands grabbed your face, held it for a moment, soft and firm.
A whisper from one finger on your cheek, the fourth name you learned. Yunho.
You didn’t start to walk again, feeling too attached to the ground, all sand and hard and soft under your feet.
They moved a bit aside and you watched on the ocean, how the wind churned the water and suddenly it was silent. You watched the wind but couldn’t hear it anymore.
Surprised you looked at the four men next to you, who stared at you like they expected something, but not too much, not too hard. Their smiles opening slowly and their eyes closing.
You could feel the pain raising inside you, but before you could try, before your hands could burn it away, their hands held you and their voices took you high, higher until you could fly alone, for yourself.
You didn’t try. You just did it.
You sang.