( mercy, 21+, she/her, gmt-4. ) — yoo hasun ( & jung wooyoung, ateez ) is a twenty-two year old dreamer dreaming a dream of sparks who has been part of the Collective for ten months. he works as an ice skating instructor and is known for being trenchant and grudge-bearing. look closer, however, and you may find that he reminds you of ghost towns, a cutting gust of wind, and holding your breath for so long that your eyes burn with tears.
PROFILE :: BIO :: PLOTS :: STARTER IDEAS
hey streamers it’s mercy, here 2 introduce hasun, ur local washed up ice-skating-prodigy-turned-part-time-skating-instructor, nefarious speed demon, and hater of haters of pineapple on pizza. under the cut is a quick rundown of his personality + plot ideas & if you like this post i’ll come over n say hi!!
this is a muse who’s gone thru quite a few iterations tbh *smacks his head* this baby can pack so many au’s in him!! anyway, for self care, he pretends his past before the collective doesn’t exist. he’s unlikely to have deep past connections because he basically cut everyone from his past off rip (unless someone wants to plot some estranged siblings or smth bc id be so down), so if u want to just assume a basic connection through the collective and start a thread based on something from my starters page/another idea, lemme know hehe
personality:
[furious skating to rock bgm]
cool front but psychic: *looks in his brain* his brain: *is this* psychic: what the fuck
expert ghoster, has burned all bridges from his past and willing to do it again if necessary. joined the collective somewhat to figure out what was going on with the dreams (read: make them stop), but mostly because he felt so suffocated in his old life -- not that he’ll ever say much about it, and certainly nothing about his past as a gifted ice skater.
has Repressed energy but in a weird contradicting way bc he can be closed off but is VERY expressive with negative feelings (aka anger, complaints, dislikes, pet peeves). ice skating his one Love and the only way he can vent everything he’s feeling properly, even if it means staying out on the ice until his entire being’s numb and sore
his job is actually one of the few things he genuinely enjoys, but ironically, tragically, his resting bitch face leads people to believe otherwise
destructive but polite about it. like he’ll only wreck stuff that belongs to him or the government, not other people’s, ok
definitely knows he can be A Lot so he tries to minimize himself around other ppl he has no beef with. again, very polite. but if u irritate him....by god he will let it be known
kind of feral....like...very likely to get into a fight. unlikely to win but will go down swinging
kind of hates that he’s having these dreams and meeting others in them? because it feels v intimate and he’s one of those ppl who believe dreams are like....manifestations of ur deepest inner thoughts and stuff and he hates that others can access that part of him. so his fellow dreamers of sparks....if he sees u in his dream, he will probably bend over backwards trying to avoid u irl
he’s so lost? has absolutely nothing in mind about the future except “go forward,” and tbh, his personality has become so intense because of how hard he’s tried to pour himself into that one goal--because without it, what the hell does he have????
plot ideas:
lessons at the rink bro.... either people who hate him because of his stinky attitude or people who fear him LOL (not that theres really anything to be afraid of imo but ur muse can take this how they will ^I$$(#*)
ROOMMATE!! any gender!! i havent made anything canon abt where he lives except that it’s off campus, so if anyone needs a roommate hmu
someone who riles him up just as badly as he riles them up and it’s all snark and venom
fellow dreamers <333 he’s tamer in dreams and MIGHT EVEN SMILE OR LAUGH A LIL but he’d avoid them so bad irl TT
or get him drunk, he’s more fun then
someone who bails him out of fights he gets into
the actual person he almost gets into a fight with.........
someone who drags him out of the rink bc WHY is he still there at 1am
the Happy Optimistic One who offsets his attitude and somehow their dynamic works even tho on paper it sounds like a mess
someone who constantly sees him loitering around the butterfly house but never sees him go in bc he is scared of bugs LMFAO
if u read this far ily but if u didnt i still love u because i know it was kinda a lot gi990i43
ichigo can’t help but laugh at his question, smile pulling wide on the corners of he lips as she shrugs “when have i not backed you up?” she asks, brow raising in his direction. with a quick wink she moves to start the next drink.
it would be a lie if ichigo said she was not grateful for hasun and his family. they were, afterall relatives, but she never expected to take her in like they did. appearing shortly after a phone call, she didn’t think it was possible to have received such a warm welcome. she got a family, a cute younger brother she never thought she would have. life had been way more colorful since the day she took that plane from japan. it was only natural she wanted to protect the people she held close to her chest.
at the suggestion, ichigo looks up from the cutting board to hasun and shrugs “you can suggest that to the boss, it doesn’t happen that often so they will probably say no.” she pauses for a short second “plus, its creepy for the people that come in. yes, of course you can. what would you like?” she adds quickly, placing the mojito she just finished on the counter and giving all her attention to hasun.
her question has him grumbling even more. “i meant, do you wanna come watch me kick the daylights out of him, not back me up,” he complains, but really, he knows better than to expect ichigo to do anything otherwise, because ichigo is about as good at staying on the sidelines as he is -- which is to say: not at all.
(not that he’s not grateful for it. it had been him against the world when he was younger and couldn’t face the humiliation of asking his parents for help, but when ichigo had come to live with them, slotting herself into their family like an older sibling hasun never had or even known he’d wanted, it had felt like someone was finally on his side. when he found out she’d joined the collective, he’d been relieved.)
(but he’s nowhere near drunk enough to, like, say any of that.)
“a coke?” he shoves his hands under his thighs to stifle some of his restlessness. now that there’s no argument to channel it into, he’s itching for something to keep himself occupied with. “hey, blacklisting works. i have a list of people who are never allowed to schedule me for skating lessons again, and it works. did i ever tell you about that one guy who almost broke my arm?”
shit. minkyu did not foresee himself shrouded in darkness, on the sturdy branches of a tree unable to contact soil at twelve am. he didn’t think he needed to. he’d envisaged a quick climb up, a lengthy conversation after and then a brief climb back to the grass when he was first asked to go tree climbing by a friend. then home.
he never reached his last step, trapped by a missing in action companion. he welcomed the shuffling of noise in the dark that sends a shiver twirling down his nape on any other day with great glee now. friends or strangers, the label crumbles to dust in his hands, he only has a single destination in mind. the ground.
❛ it’s a very long story. which i can tell, but can you help me down first ? i’m stuck. ❜ the ebony cloak of night may conceal the embarrassment tinging his cheeks with a pink hue, but he can’t strangle the mortification in his voice. maybe a stranger would have been easier. conversing in those few seconds summoned the realization that he’ll have to meet this man once more in the future.
the stranger’s response had hasun quirking a brow. “yeah, i bet,” he snorted. “hold on, i can’t see anything.” he dug his phone out to turn on the built-in flashlight, casting the bright glow on the tree’s branches -- and there was the poor guy amidst the leaves and bark, looking pretty mortified. hasun snickered, then tried to muffle that snicker, then ended up coughing instead.
“right, yes--” he stepped closer to the tree because he really couldn’t see shit, angling the light on other parts of the tree in vain. “can you feel around for a foothold? i don’t think i could reach you, you’re too h--”
and that was when he saw it.
a scourge of the earth, the devil incarnate, something that didn’t belong anywhere except an animal crossing game: a giant fucking beetle.
“actually.” hasun stepped back hastily. “i think you could jump down from there? i can just-- i’ll catch you.”
The way Jisu’s eyes rolled would have been labeled the most disrespectful thing a woman of class would have seen. Hasun’s very presence sent blood boiling through his veins. He was just like Jisu, he could tell by the way he walked and the way he talked, the way the room seemed collectively flicker eyes between dinner plates and their jealous lovers before them. The same looks Jisu saw when he walked into a room, it was the power they held, rivaling each other like two bulls in a small pen, each fighting for dominance simply because it needed to be done.
He squinted, jaw clenching as Hasun spoke, so nonchalantly as if they didn’t get into a tennis tournament of banter in the middle of the hallway, another test of resilience, where Jisu had disturbed a hornets nest, and took every sting. Walking away unscathed but ready to tussle again.
“The stick up your ass,” he gritted folding his arms, letting his shoulders settling on the blush chair seating, but only for a moment. He sat up quickly after, a smirk etching itself onto his face as he leaned in on his elbows, “apologize or I’m going to make your night a living hell.” His mother’s voice echoed in his ear, miming the words as he spoke. “And I mean it.”
hasun watched him roll his eyes. he watched him fold his arms, smirk, and lean in, and for a moment hasun was fourteen and walking out from the lockers of the rink again, tilting his head up to the spectators that hung with their elbows above the entrance tunnel and receiving a glob of spit in the face for his troubles.
it was always the same look, the same taunts, always made from the same high perch above with the intent to make him feel small. he hated feeling small. “is that supposed to scare me?” he sneered. “i’ve met eleven-year-olds more intimidating than you. what exactly can you do to me, huh?”
if it weren’t for the hours he’d just spent burning off his energy at the rink, his temper might’ve sparked from that eyeroll alone, but he could feel the slow-seething kind of anger instead. the kind that crept in like the cold, unnoticed until it came lashing out, and by far the kind that got him into the most trouble, but what could he say? two meetings in, and jisu had burrowed so deep beneath his skin that when hasun dragged him out, he inevitably dredged up the worst parts of hasun with him. trying to distract himself from his ticking pulse, hasun looked around in search of a server, raking his gaze across every pair of eyes that were watching them from other tables. one look, and most of their heads snapped back to their own tables.
it wasn’t often that hasun immersed himself with nature, but maybe that was why the afternoon felt especially peaceful. serene, even. the trail was unfamiliar because he hadn’t so much as stepped foot in this part of the park before, associating it with all kinds of gross bugs, but he could understand why jinae liked to take her time looking at the scenery. the way the light hit the leaves gave them a strange glow, like something that someone as lowly as him wasn’t meant to see.
he rounded the curve of the small detour he’d taken, searching for jinae’s familiar profile. he’d only hung out with her a few times before, but he was learning that her two modes were either very fast or very still. “you’re still here?” he stopped next to her and followed her line of sight, cocking his head. “what’s so interesting that you haven’t moved for, like, ten whole minutes?”
“Your world isn’t real, your world’s an ideal” w/ @fromhasun·
Jisu crossed his legs at the end of the long table. He wasn’t exactly happy that the place had gotten double booked, but he wasn’t exactly going to go cruising the upscale seen on a Friday night hoping to find a new restaurant for him and his friends. Besides, maybe his party and the other will get along like in the movies. The table was large enough, and Jisu was ready to assault his dominance if need be, something his mother taught him in situations like this, ‘Let them know that you’re running the scene, all it takes is a look and you’ve got them in the palm of your hand.’ The thought left a foul taste in his mouth but she wasn’t wrong.
That foul taste had bubbled into bile and disgust as the next party was seated, and Jisu wondered who did he cross in the universe that could actually want to make his day even worse. While clad in a silk button up and slacks had him feeling like royalty, he felt like he’d been demoted to prison guard as ‘he’ was sat across from him.
“You’re fucking joking right?” He said out-loud to the hostess, who could only shoot him an apologetic glance as she passed out their menus. He could feel the audible gasp from the rest of the table, Jisu’s friends knew how he got when he felt threatened, when diamond rings and Bentleys weren’t enough for the ‘others’ to know their place.
He straightened his back, and gave a harsh sigh as he took a sip of wine from his glass, boring into the males soul with lensed iris’.
“Apologize.” Jisu said simply, setting the glass down with his nose in the air. while the rest of patrons seemed confused, he knew that the other knew exactly who he was talking to.
this restaurant hadn’t even been hasun’s first choice. takeout hadn’t worked out, so he’d had a thought that went something like, wow, i haven’t had real food that isn’t fast food in a while, and this restaurant had been the first thing that caught his eye on his way back from the rink. he’d been tired, too tired to muster the diplomacy to tell the well-meaning hostess never mind when he saw exactly how crowded it was.
but maybe he should have, because maybe that would’ve prevented this.
"apologize for what?” he asked blithely, dropping his bag of skates on the floor next to his chair and dropping into the seat without ceremony. he was well aware of what the other wanted -- that unseemly first meeting still sat fresh in his mind, like it had happened just the day before -- but hasun failed to see what he needed to apologize for, when it was soh jisu who walked around with his infuriating attitude, like he owned the very ground he treaded. “if you didn’t want someone sitting with you, you should’ve gotten one of your friends to come with you.” hasun slanted a Look at him as he opened his menu. he pulled off the unruffled façade well, but there was a telltale tightness to his grip on the menu.
it wasn’t anything new. there was always someone butting into her personal life or just being a plain creep at the bar. the usual a pretty face like you shouldn’t be working here, is what they would say. ichigo would mock them in their face as they said it. however, the idiot tonight was a little more hard headed than she would have liked. she is also very sure that hasun has scared him off enough, the attitude she gave him may have helped as well. she’s finishing a drink she had started before the conflict, however, her eyes quickly land on her cousin as he exist the bathroom.
“i kicked him out.“ she explains, lifting the pretty crystal glass on the bar top for the waitress to take it. “why, wanna go find him later and beat him up?“ ichigo asks, brow raising at hasun.
“oh.” hasun’s shoulders slump a fraction, but not because he’s lowered his guard. now he can just sit and not worry about seeing that infuriating face again. “i dunno, maybe,” he grumbles at ichigo’s question. “what, you wanna come with?”
at this point, it’s almost routine. most people didn’t realize that setting one of them off usually meant automatically setting the other one off, but it’s been like this since ichigo had come to live with him and his parents seven years ago, essentially becoming the sibling he never had. he knows she can take care of herself, and honestly she took care of him too, but it’s hard for him to shake that protective streak when it came to people he cared about. “i keep telling you, you should have a blacklist but with pictures,” he tells her, sliding into a a stool, “put scumbags like him on it, then never let him in again. can i get a drink?”
for better or for worse, it’s not hasun’s first trip to the hospital -- his early, overzealous rollerblading days have gotten him fairly acquainted to bruises and sprains, but it’s definitely his first time having to stay in one for more than a couple of hours, and he’s learning well. they’d gotten him a bed and a nurse had dropped off a pudding cup that was supposed to be his snack or something, then left him to his devices. he just wanted to leave, but the diagnosis had been a minor concussion after accidentally slamming full-force into the skating rink wall, and apparently that meant he needed to be seen first. he was sure that those passerby’s who’d taken him to the hospital had meant well, but this was so inconvenient.
the room was sectioned off into two, with two beds for him and the other person who’d been unlucky enough to be stuffed in here with him. for the most part, he’d minded his own business since he’d been dropped off in here, but currently his temporary roommate was flipping through the channels on the little tv on the opposite wall, and since that’s what would be playing until he finally got out of here, he thought he should have some say in it.
“what’s showing right now?” he winces as he sits up in his head, squinting at the screen nad the show that the other had stopped on. “a documentary? can’t you put on something else?”
there’s someone in that tree, and hasun’s clarity of mind suggests that he’s neither drunk nor asleep, which means that this isn’t just a mutation of his usual weird dreams. but then that begs the question: why is there someone in that tree?
“uh... hello?” hasun approaches cautiously, because he’s lived in the city long enough now to know to be cautious around weird shit, especially things that happened in the dark. his eyebrows furrow into a habitual frown when he recognizes a head, torso, and limbs that belong to a human being, one that looks...stuck? hasun thinks he’s seen him around the campus before, but he can’t connect the dots between this guy being part of the collective and any possible explanation for what he’s doing, so it seems best policy to just ask: “what the hell are you doing up there?”
looking freshly wrangled from the bathroom (or, maybe more accurately, a raccoon’s den), hasun arrives back at the bar with a burgeoning regret that he’d gone and tried to "calm down” like ichigo had told him to before kicking the shit out of the skeevy guy who wouldn’t leave her alone. hasun can’t see him around the place anymore, but his drink’s still sitting unfinished on the counter, which implies that he’s possibly still on the loose. did he go to the bathroom too?
he’s ready to storm back in there when he finally spots his cousin on the other side of the bar, and he frowns despite his relief at seeing her without that leech. “where’d that piece of shit go? i’m not done with him yet.”
“Today I forgot what it was I went looking for, my own face, or the shape of something I should love. I just watched the leaves gather around my feet, their small dead selves lighter now, unselved. Perhaps this is part of it, a willingness to forget the way the world has touched our bodies sharply, so we can refill ourselves with someone else (…)”
— Post-Op Letters in the Field Between Us, Molly McCully Brown & Susannah Nevison
