#but here's the first part of the flashback portion of this story
Text
sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)
this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.
side A found here!
author's note:
oh goodness. it's been a while.
i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.
this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.
this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')
maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.
and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.
✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧
tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.
pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader
genre: romance, fluff
summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.
rating: 13+
length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)
tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure
inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi
inspo spotify playlist found here!
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side b: him.
The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.
You knew. You fucking knew.
You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.
He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.
Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.
He ran.
He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.
But he couldn’t.
He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).
He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.
The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.
The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.
You were everywhere.
And he needed to get away.
He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.
However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.
If you asked him to stay, he would have.
But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.
So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.
──────────────────
Years later.
“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”
He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”
“I figured. I brought you some food.”
Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”
“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”
Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”
“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”
“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”
“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”
“...Lyrics.”
“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”
Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”
“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”
Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.
Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”
The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”
“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”
Jihoon let out a loud sigh.
“That’s a yes, then.”
“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”
“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”
“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”
“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”
“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”
Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”
“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”
“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she always has.”
“Can I see her profile again?”
“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”
“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”
“That makes me really not want to.”
“Ey.”
Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.
“Oh, is that Japan?”
“Yeah.”
Jihoon clicked on your post.
But it wasn’t opening.
So, he clicked again. And then again.
And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.
The once white heart was now red.
His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”
Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”
“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”
“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”
“How do you know?”
Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”
“...”
“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”
Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.
“Jihoon-ah.”
“Hyung.”
“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”
“...Okay.”
──────────────────
Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?
“Jihoonie.”
His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”
“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”
“Just thinking.”
“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”
“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”
“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”
“You work miracles, Y/N.”
“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”
“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”
“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”
Did you even know how much your words affected him?
“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”
“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”
“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”
“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”
Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”
“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”
Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.
He might as well use your promise to his advantage.
──────────────────
“She didn’t block me.”
“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.
“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.
“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.
“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.
“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”
“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”
Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.
“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”
Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.
He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.
“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”
“Seungkwan-ah.”
“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”
“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”
Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”
“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”
“WHAT DO I DO.”
“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”
So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.
After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”
Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”
Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”
Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”
The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”
Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.
Everything about her usually is.
──────────────────
“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”
He groaned loudly under the bed covers.
He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.
“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”
Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”
“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”
“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”
There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.
“Huh. You might be right there.”
“Get! Off!”
His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.
You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”
“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”
“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”
“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”
“Is a buggy better than a furry?”
“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”
It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”
“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”
You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.
Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”
You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”
You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.
You scurried out of his room before he could respond.
He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.
Forget summertime.
He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.
But he ought to thank the summertime.
Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.
Yeah.
He needed the summertime.
──────────────────
“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”
“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.
Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”
The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”
“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”
Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”
The accused groaned.
“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”
“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”
“You romanticist.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”
“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.
Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”
Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”
Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”
They all collectively raised a brow.
“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.
“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”
A heavy silence passed over the group.
Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”
“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”
“Hoon, you wound me.”
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Award shows were weird.
At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.
But it was much more daunting than they were used to.
Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.
In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.
He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”
He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.
That is, until he experienced it firsthand.
The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.
Then he felt it: that driving force.
You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.
And it ended with him sick and bedridden.
And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.
The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.
For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.
‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’
One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.
Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.
When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.
Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.
Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.
“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”
He thought back to his trainee days.
To his current days.
How similar.
“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”
You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.
“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”
Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.
“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”
And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night.
When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.
Award shows were weird.
It was all about performance.
Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.
Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.
Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.
He knew how to perform. He was good at it.
It was why he’s in this industry.
But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.
As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.
‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’
──────────────────
Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.
He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.
“How’s the song coming along?”
“The album is nearly complete—”
“No, the solo one.”
Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”
“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”
“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.
Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”
“…that’s not true.”
“What? Which one?”
“The first song I ever wrote.”
“Oh what? What was it?”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”
“…huh. What was it about?”
──────────────────
You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.
His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.
His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.
That is, unless you needed him to.
And he always gave you what you needed.
So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.
──────────────────
Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”
“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”
“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”
“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.
Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”
“She sounds terrifying.”
“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”
Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.
He imagined you meeting them.
With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.
With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.
With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.
With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.
With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.
With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.
With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.
With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.
With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.
With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.
With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.
With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).
He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.
And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.
He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).
He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.
From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.
And that's when he knew.
Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.
──────────────────
When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.
Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.
Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.
However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”
He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.
“Here, firefly.”
You caught it by instinct.
Your gaze met his.
He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.
His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.
“Why are you giving me this?”
Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.
But he wouldn’t do that.
Because that would be embarrassing.
(That was a future Jihoon problem.)
“It’s your win today.”
He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.
“Huh?”
He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”
Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.
You sniffled.
A soft smile formed on your lips.
And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.
Pretty.
He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.
The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.
That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.
(Not that you reached out.)
He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.
He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?
It’s your win?
But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.
You did win his heart, after all.
(He threw his pillow at the wall.)
──────────────────
“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”
Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”
Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”
Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”
Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”
“She’s more than that.”
“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”
“I never asked you to do that.”
“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”
“Okay, bro.”
“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”
Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”
“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”
“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”
“So close-minded, Hoon.”
Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.
“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”
“Thanks for the play-by-play.”
Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.
But it’s for a good cause!
But he might be trespassing on her territory.
Everyone cares about youth and kids!
This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.
He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”
“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”
Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”
Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”
Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:
“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”
──────────────────
“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”
“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”
Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.
Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.
“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.
But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.
“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”
The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.
Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.
And he was right.
Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’
Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.
Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.
And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.
He was able to find it outside of you.
Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.
And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.
Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”
Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”
Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.
Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.
──────────────────
It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.
Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.
(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)
Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.
Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.
So, here he was. Simply being.
Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.
Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.
You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.
His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.
As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.
So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.
A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).
He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.
He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.
His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.
But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.
That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.
However, he never had the desire to throw it away.
The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.
If only catching you was as simple, he mused.
Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.
He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.
Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.
──────────────────
“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”
“Who said I’d ever miss you?”
“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”
“…You’re dumb.”
“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”
──────────────────
He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).
He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.
Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.
Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.
He paused.
Did he know that though?
Or did he just assume?
He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.
Communication was easy in theory.
Application, however.
He often found it difficult, matching your pace.
You were always so quick.
Quick-witted.
Quick to anger.
Quick to assume.
Quick to run away.
He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.
Ah, he was right.
“Woozingi~”
“Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”
This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”
Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”
“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.
“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”
Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”
“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”
“Hm.”
“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”
Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”
“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”
Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”
“I—”
“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”
“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”
Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”
──────────────────
“Our Jihoonie~”
The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”
“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”
“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”
“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.
Jihoon’s face twitched.
“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”
“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”
“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”
“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”
Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”
──────────────────
Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”
“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”
“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”
“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”
Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”
“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”
Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”
“Ay. What is there to complain about?”
Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.
“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”
“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”
Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”
“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”
“So, she must be eloquent then.”
Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”
──────────────────
“You like unnie, don’t you?”
Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”
You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”
Jihoon sank back.
Family? Brother?
He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?
So why the hell did that piss him off?
Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”
You sneered at him.
God, you were so infuriating sometimes.
She wasn’t like that.
She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.
She was beautiful.
But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!
What the hell was wrong with you?
Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!
So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?
It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.
You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.
You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.
But.
You fizzled out just as fast.
He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.
“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.
“Okay.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”
“Sure.”
So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.
You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.
He never once called you his family.
But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.
──────────────────
“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”
“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”
Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.
“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”
Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”
Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”
“What a useless messenger.”
“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”
“…Me too, hyung.”
──────────────────
“How much is the corn dog?”
“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”
“It’s my shop!”
“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.
“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”
“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”
Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.
Stories didn’t matter.
Money mattered.
Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.
And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.
And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.
He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.
So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.
Eventually, he asked you why.
Why stories?
“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”
And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.
“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”
──────────────────
After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Hm?”
“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”
Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”
An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.
“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”
“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”
“It’s blue, by the way.”
“I don’t care—”
“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”
“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”
“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”
Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?
But he wasn’t you.
You were the inspiration; the muse.
You were the reason to write.
He was just a storyteller.
──────────────────
“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”
Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon’s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”
He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”
“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”
Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”
Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.
Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.
They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”
They’ve grown so much.
International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.
They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).
Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.
He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.
(Not even you.)
However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.
He was a selfish human being.
He hoped you would be one too.
──────────────────
May 26th.
Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.
Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.
Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.
He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.
As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).
He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.
And there you were.
alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD
The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.
Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:
i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan
His brain short-circuited.
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.
Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?
Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.
sorry that was dumb of me to assume
of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album
What the hell, dude.
You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.
You’ve literally never done that.
He tried to calm his heart.
However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.
sorry that was stupid
ignore me
congrats y/n
He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.
“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”
His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.
Ah, it would be him.
“What did she do?”
──────────────────
For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.
But that wasn’t (entirely) true.
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.
So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.
Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.
“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”
Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.
Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.
“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”
“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”
“She made her choice, Jihoon.”
“This is all my fault.”
“How?”
Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”
“Jihoon–”
“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”
“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.
“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”
“Don’t fucking call her that–”
“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.
But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.
Who the hell did you think you were?
Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.
Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.
“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”
“I just–”
“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”
Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.
“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”
“...Okay.”
Kwon Soonyoung was aware.
Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.
Painfully so.
──────────────────
“I just–”
“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.
Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”
“Jihoon-ah.”
“...Soonyoung-ah.”
“She’s human, right?”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”
“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”
──────────────────
“Why’d you reject the guy?”
You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”
Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”
“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”
You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”
“What, that people don’t know you?”
“No. That people assume they know me.”
Jihoon paused for a moment.
“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”
“Well, one of those things is true.”
You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”
“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”
It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”
──────────────────
Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.
Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.
You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.
He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”
“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”
“You can unsend messages?”
“Uh–”
Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.
But he hesitated.
“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”
Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”
“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”
“No thanks.”
“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”
──────────────────
Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.
“...She replied.”
Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”
Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”
“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”
“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”
“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”
The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.
Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?
And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.
(With some typing errors.)
(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)
(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)
The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.
He snorted at that, of course you would.
A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.
He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”
“Woozi Woozi~?”
“Can you do something for me?”
Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”
“YAH.”
“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”
Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”
“WOW! I like her already.”
“Hyung.”
“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”
“Just a video to congratulate her.”
“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”
“Hyung, please.”
Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”
Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.
That felt dangerous.
He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.
But.
He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.
He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.
But what if you leave again?
He cannot mess this up. He can’t.
So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.
But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.
And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.
That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
──────────────────
Yes. Yes, it was.
After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.
But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.
So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.
Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.
Stupid.
Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).
He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.
He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).
Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?
──────────────────
“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”
“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”
You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”
“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”
“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”
“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”
“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”
“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”
“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”
“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”
“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”
“No, get better lung capacity.”
You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”
“No thanks.”
You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”
“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”
No. You definitely were.
You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”
“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”
You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.
Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.
But, no.
If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.
You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.
Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.
──────────────────
Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.
Our past that didn’t line up,
If I could go back in time,
Rather than roughly, but warmly,
Would I be able to let you go?
He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.
One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.
He could only hope he would’ve done something different.
But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.
He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.
But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.
Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.
He groaned loudly.
Emotional labor is hard.
How is this something you enjoy doing?
──────────────────
“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”
You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”
He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”
You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”
Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”
You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”
“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”
“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”
You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”
Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”
“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”
Irritation washed over Jihoon.
The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.
He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.
You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.
Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)
Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.
“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”
“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”
“Thanks. Hire me.”
──────────────────
Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ���self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.
However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.
Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”
“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”
“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”
“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”
“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”
“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”
“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”
“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”
“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”
Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”
Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”
“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”
“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”
“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”
He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”
“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”
“We both know that’s literally not true.”
“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”
“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”
His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”
A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”
Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”
Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”
“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”
“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”
“Can you not say it like that?”
“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”
Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.
──────────────────
“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”
“Why, you wanna date me?”
Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”
“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”
“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”
“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”
“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”
Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”
“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”
Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”
“Oh, it was a secret?”
“Hyung!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”
Jihoon sneered.
Fucking Woo Soyeon.
With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.
Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.
That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.
She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.
At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.
Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.
“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”
“Sorry.”
Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”
Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”
The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”
“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”
“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”
“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”
“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”
“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”
“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”
Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.
“Actually, maybe not all men.”
Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”
“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”
“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”
“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well… you know your noona?”
──────────────────
Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.
However, your cousin still managed to do it.
“How did you do it, hyung?”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”
The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”
“Oh…”
“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”
“…yeah. I agree.”
That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.
This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.
It was past 4am now.
But he didn’t want to wait any longer.
So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.
i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am
A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.
The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.
The relief that rushed through him.
The hope that ignited in him.
That was the spark needed for him to explode.
And so he did, into words.
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”
“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”
He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.
“But it is, firefly.”
And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.
“I mean, I just—”
Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”
“Jihoon, I—”
He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”
There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.
“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…
If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,
Our future will be empty and sad.
It’s not that I want to forget you.
Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.
“I… I missed you too.”
Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”
“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.
“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”
“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”
He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”
‘We’ felt good on his tongue.
“Night, night, Jihoonie.”
“Sleep well, firefly.”
He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.
You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.
──────────────────
In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.
Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.
And the dorm was in chaos.
“He should wear the white button down!”
“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”
“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”
“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”
“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”
Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?
Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’
“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.
(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)
Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).
Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”
In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
[continue reading here]
#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#seventeen fanfiction#svt fanfiction#seventeen#svt#세븐틴#lee jihoon#woozi#svt fic#seventeen fic#woozi fic#mine#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#seventeen drabbles#svt fluff#seventeen angst#svt x reader#Spotify#woozi x you#lee jihoon x you
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HELLO coming out of my cave to yell about how much I LOVE The Double (墨雨云间) bc I have no irl friends that love historical c-dramas :’) I’ve been hung up on this show for a few days after finishing it.
Overall 10/10 with a subjectively happy ending (I choose to believe the ending is happy) with really good acting. Wu Jinyan could never disappoint. The frontal camera angles threw me off quite a bit at first but I slowly started to appreciate this artistic choice.
Some spoilers ahead as usual!
Let’s dive into - the Plot. I read some of the original novel in the past but dropped it after a while. There are some differences - such as the novel using transmigration (Xue Fangfei entering Jiang Li’s body) as the main plot point, while the drama explicitly shows how Xue Fangfei’s journey with Jiang Li and how she eventually took over JL’s identity after her passing. Personally I prefer what the drama did as everything felt much more real and believable. This added a depth to the story that transmigration was unable to showcase. Plus, Wu Jinyan’s ability to showcase XFF’s pain and growth as she vows to exonerate JL (played by Yang Chaoyue) and herself was extremely captivating and I constantly wanted to root for her.
All the flashbacks with JL thanking XFF throughout the show had me sobbing in bed at 3am while watching.
Special mention to the king (played by Zeng Ke Liang) as well for not being a total fool - as seen in SO MANY other historical dramas. His friendship with Xiao Heng is rock solid, and seeing the ministers and other antagonists constantly underestimate it was sooo satisfying to watch. So if you hate cdramas with stupid monarchs, you'll be pleased to hear that there won't be any of that here.
Scenes of their friendship were really cute to watch too.
The romantic development between XFF and Xiao Heng (played by Wang Xingyue) was delightful to watch. I love couples that just understand each other. Without explicitly saying anything, without any grand confessions of love, both parties mutually knew each other’s feelings and constantly looked out for each other. The slow and gradual process of them falling for each other was paced out beautifully - XH’s gaze changes as he looks at her throughout the episodes, and XFF gets more and more playful around him. The script and their bantering ticks all the right boxes fkr me. He’s the only person that knows her real identity, she doesn’t need to hide in front of him. And this makes their relationship so much more special.
And I love that there was nothing like making stupid decisions in the name of love and protection while jeopardising the bigger picture. (eg. XH giving up the entire secret army the emperor trusted him with for XFF - turning out to be a hidden ploy) Both XFF and XH were on a quest for revenge and they are determined to get what they want without making any compromise. If at any point of the plot - they deviate from this and decide to do something foolish in order to protect the other, I would have seen it as out of character.
Bonus points for including an archery scene :D It’s one of my favourite overused tropes.
The overall camera work and style of The Double was shot so beautifully and in a rather interesting theatrical style. From JL’s death where she falls among the pear blossoms to Princess Wanning (played by Li Meng) ’s dancing and even the scenes where characters stare directly into the camera. The opening scenes were super dramatic and really set a heavy tone for the rest of the story.
While the staring into the camera took some getting used to, there are certain portions where Wanning’s expressions gave me goose bumps. Li Meng’s performance took me out - her Wanning was repulsive in the way she treated others, yet so broken from her past that I felt so much pain for her towards the end of the story. It was amazing.
There were even comedic elements that made some parts feel like a stage play. Like her cousin and his lackeys’ coordinated walk as they try to help her out from her room. And one of the minister’s love for theatre which was super on the nose I laughed out loud while watching it all play out. The style in which important plot points are presented is so unique and really sets this show apart from other cdramas I’ve watched.
Everyone in the cast was amazing in their roles. While Wang Xingyue is one of the younger cast members, the emotional depth in his performance as Xiao Heng gave off maturity and a temperament beyond his years. Seeing him goof around behind the scenes, and then watching him as Xiao Heng gave me whiplash - but in the best way possible.
Liang Yongqi was a truly despicable Shen Yurong - it got to a point where seeing him on screen made my skin crawl. Liu Xiening as Jiang Ruoyan was perfectly annoying - and I can't wait to see more from her as I've really liked her since she was in Gugudan.
I could probably go on and on about how much I love Wu Jinyan as Xue Fangfei and I’m so happy that they casted her because she was perfect. (Admittedly, I’m biased). But I think you can watch the show to experience everyone's brilliance for yourself. The casting and script pacing was great and all the different pieces fit together into this story perfectly.
Now let's talk about the somewhat controversial ending of The Double. Did our beloved Duke Su die in battle? Did they ever reunite? I choose to believe that he came back to her in the end and they got their happy ending. But Wang Xingyue's performance in that last battle - with the iconic scene of XFF's pendant in his mouth was breathtaking. Regardless, I do think the show could have done without causing the audience pain with this added arc of him going back to his duties - but I felt that it made sense.
Xiao Heng is someone who is deadly loyal to his country and to his king. He and XFF are not the kind to simply escape from the capital and its intrigues to live a happy life on their own. Both value their family and their country, they would never leave the capital to pursue their own happiness.
Also something I noticed - that made this scene so much more painful. At the start after XFF retrieves the pendant, Tong'er (her servant) tells her not to pawn off this pendant anymore. She replies with "there's no one worth trading this pendant for". And then she gives this pendant to XH before he goes off to battle at the end. Cries.
Abrupt end but I think this is most of the feels I have to get out already - I took a lot of screenshots and recordings while watching The Double (haven't felt the urge to do so in such a long time tbh) so there may be more posts from me while I continue yapping about how much I love this show and story adaptation.
smol life update: I’ve been working FT after graduation two years ago - but I was in a pretty bad environment and have decided to resign this year. So now I’m funemployed and trying to work through some health issues. Hope everyone has been well and thank you for reading this! ❤️❤️
#wuxia#wuxia hero#cdrama#chinese#The Double#墨雨云间#marriage of the di daughter#wu jinyan#wang xingyue#after rant#after rants#cdrama review
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Day 1, and I am... immediately not too pleased with the story adaptation in the OMORI manga, unfortunately. Pacing is absolutely BREAKNECK SPEED, with the majority of day 3 being zoomed through.
The most criminal decision is that the prologue beginning in White Space and Headspace was swapped for a flashback to the Christmas Day memory, and then Sunny wakes up and meets Kel at the door. No Headspace centric prologue in which we lose Basil, get introduced to the cast from how they are relevant to Sunny's feelings and memory, and develop our perceptions of the supporting cast alongside Sunny's dated memories of them. Just BOOM, here's real-world Kel, Basil, and Aubrey.
And in the case of Aubrey, this ESPECIALLY hurts her real-world character introduction. A large part of what made her character immediately compelling was really being able to appreciate the contrast between her real-world self and her Headspace self, which leads the player/audience to be like "What? But she was so sweet before!! What on earth made her like this? How can I help her become like how she used to be? CAN she be like how she used to be??" She's got fanfic characterization of being much more of a violent bully rather than a girl with bad communication skills and angst for days, particularly in that she is ACTUALLY HITTING PEOPLE WITH HER NAIL BAT. Uhm, WHAT?! (Also HOW on earth did Basil get completely bodied with Aubrey's bat in the side of the head and proceed to get up, unbloodied, the next panel? What are they feeding my boy to make his epidermis and cranium made of steel??) (Edit: Looking at the scene again, it looks like Aubrey might have kicked Basil to make him fall over, right after swinging her bat around in close proximity to his head. They don't really make the flow of action all that clear, so it's easy to have the misconception that Aubrey is being actually more violent than she really is, rather than just putting up an intimidating front.)
In the manga, the character introduction name cards and descriptions only first appeared in the Headspace portion AFTER all of the Day 3 stuff turbo-sped past us, which really makes you feel like all the jumbled together Day 3 stuff that ACTUALLY introduced the characters in this adaptation was just a strange choice.
Other nitpicks, I LOVE how Sunny is so expressive in this when he is afraid and whatnot, but why is Omori so expressive? The whole point of Sunny's Headspace-sona was that he was meant to be a temperate means of repression and giving Sunny emotional numbness- to the bad AND good. It's partly why Sunny's smile at the Good Ending of the game is so cathartic- he triumphed over Omori, so he's more able to feel the positive emotions that "Omori" caused to be stifled.
Also they're really just... putting all the stuff with Mari right out in the open from the beginning, huh? BOOM, here's violin imagery, BOOM your sister is dead, etc etc. I dunno, man...
Anyway here's gay boys
they be lookin'...
lashes for DAYS, also I love how Basil looks so sopping wet. I approve
Basil voice: "Hello everyone~..."
and honorary Hero because they made him look so 💅💅💅 here
Anywho, the art is absolutely LOVELY, I love the style, and the Hellmari panel was *mwah* MAGNIFIQUE. I will at least enjoy the visuals, I am sure.
#omori#omori manga#please- decide for yourself what you think of the adaptation! we're all just here to have a good time
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part 4;
prev. | m.list | next
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written portion at the end!!
"god fuckin' damnit." yn sighed as she put her phone down. she was currently in her last lecture of the day, contemplating how she got into this mess. and how all of her friends suddenly knew oikawa tooru. and how he found her twitter and followed it.
yn had met matsukawa issei in their last term during their first year of school, and while they were not too close, they did have one thing in common. they loved to go out. their drunk escapades slowly began to include mattsun's not-boyfriend-but-boyfriend makki, and they all slowly began to get a bit closer.
being that all of their friends were intertwined, it would be a matter of time before they all figured out what was going on between oikawa and yn. their hookups have surprisingly pre-dated all of yn's friendships in college, which have been difficult to come by. being from another country and also an introvert were really big roadblocks.
oikawa never seemed to care about that though. the first night they met, during their first term in their first year, he had approached her at some sort of welcome party an older student was throwing. yn had quickly figured out that he was a chronic flirter, but had enough alcohol in her system to go home with him. which ended up happening every weekend of the first year, and now second year as well. it was nice for yn to have physical contact, as that was hard to come by now having broken up with her ex and being that she had close to no friends in japan. it was a distraction, something that satisfied her needs with no feelings.
these days however, now that he knows more than just her first name and how to please her, it's too complicated. and wildly uncomfortable.
flashback: 1st term, 1st year
"smoking's not a good look on such a pretty face like yours" yn heard behind her on the balcony. the inside was stuffy and the music felt like it was eating her eardrums alive, so she had made her way outside for some peace and quiet. only for it to be disturbed.
"oh yeah? and who are you to have an opinion on that?" the girl looked over her shoulder to see who was behind her. she was met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and windswept hair to match.
oikawa thinks his heart may have stopped when she turned to look at him. he had seen her inside and thought she was pretty, sure, but out here was a different story. the moonlight caused her e/c eyes to glow, and her hair seemed so much softer out here. his eyes widened a bit and he choked on his words a bit before responding.
"im oikawa. oikawa tooru. and sorry, truthfully i couldn't think of another way to approach you." he walked up towards the edge of the balcony, taking his place to her right. she took a long drag before offering it towards him wordlessly.
"no thanks, i'm an athlete i can't really do that stuff."
"but you're at a party, clearly intoxicated. i wonder what your coach would think of that." she shot back.
"touche. you never told me your name." he chuckled in his response.
"yn."
｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶ ｡˚︶︶✩︶︶ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶ ｡˚︶︶✩︶︶ ₊
notes:
the "smokings not a good look on you" line was actually used on me
i was at a club in singapore and an old man (maybe like 50-60 yrs old) literally started talking to me while i had a cig in my hand like go away u creep im 20
he texted me on whatsapp later abt that like mind ur business
idk why i gave him my number tbh i just wanted to see if hed buy me drinks
anyways i love matsukawa issei (whats new)
little flashback moment to when their whole affair started!!
either the next chapter or the next two chapters shi may go down
#hq smau#haikyuu smau#hq x reader#haikyuu#oikawa smau#oikawa x reader smau#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru
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yuumori: the remains ch1
Now on: Cubari / Mangadex
Thank you so much for waiting! This chapter was one huge trip for all of us 🏃🏻♀️ Shoutout to @willymoly for their amazing work on the redrawing, and ashas for proofreading this long chapter 🙆🏻♀️
Also, do note that The Remains is being posted on brand-new Cubari and Mangadex pages! The page links have been updated across this blog — and you can always find the direct links to the latest chapter in these update posts ☺️
Twitter news
Miyoshi-sensei mentioned in this tweet that due to scheduling constraints, there are some panels/artwork that are of lower quality than usual, and these will be fixed in the tankobon release
The tweet also mentions that they will be “carefully selecting” the chapters to adapt from the light novels, which may imply that only selected portions of the light novels will be adapted
There is a clean poster version of the Jump SQ. cover here
Correction to Ch65
As mentioned in the footnotes for Ch76, this bubble on pg26 of Ch65 has been corrected to “We’ve already parted with the Durham residence…” instead of “The Durham residence has already been sold…”. As Ch1 of The Remains has clarified that the mansion is in disrepair, it is now clear that the previous translation made too eager an inference, and so it has been edited to be more conservative.
Corrections to the novel TL
There are also some small errors in my original TL of the novel, which I’m only now discovering as we go through the stories again. These have now been corrected in the tumblr posts, but I do expect to find more along the way — my sincere apologies in advance 🙇🏻♀️
The new credits page
You may have noticed that the new design uses the Strawberry Thief pattern by William Morris 🍓 His patterns were really popular in the late Victorian era, and I’ve always headcanoned that some of them were used in the Moriarty family residences in some form or another (๑˃ᴗ˂)
Where’s the story going?
The story so far has been a faithful reproduction of the first light novel. But many have pointed out that if we’re currently reliving the light novels through Louis’s flashback, then how will we get to the light novel stories from William and/or Sherlock’s POVs?
Notice that William was mentioned to be looking for something in the mansion: maybe he’ll also find something that will spark memories of his time with Sherlock? (I’m pretty sure Forbidden Games will be adapted; it would be such a missed opportunity if it wasn’t 😆)
As for the stories that are completely from Sherlock’s POV, it remains to be seen how those will be handled (if at all?) — excited!! x)
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Hi! It's been a while since I've talked about the upcoming updates, but I finally had a chance to actually sit down and make plans! (the life of a corporate slave, am I right? 🙃)
It has something to do with the changes I will be implementing on my patreon, though. I've thought for a while how to give content that's worthwhile of subscriptions while also making sure I can be comfortable with them, and in all honesty, I had a tricky time doing it. HM is too personal for me, as I used to talk about before, and some of the patreon benefits I promised before eventually felt too revealing - of my own thoughts and people whose lives were a huge inspiration for this story.
I will be talking about these changes and the update schedules as well below the cut.
UPDATES
I aim to finish at least half of HM's Book 1 this year. It seems to be a more realistic goal than forcing myself to finish everything right away (which tbh may have been a huge pressure I put on myself the past few years), though admittedly, things are unpredictable in the field I'm in; my job is full of overtime hours, and I spend most of my weekends trying to recover (or sick).
Still, I gotta finish it one way or another, and it's not going to write itself (though I wish it would!), so yeah, set realistic deadlines, pull out a few all-nighters, and maybe I'll actually get through it, who knows?
I do hope I'll have steadier finances by the time Book 2 starts so I can put more focus on writing and have sufficient energy for it, but that's a conversation for another day.
Changes in Prologue - Chapter 2
Okay. I know I promised not to make revisions until I write more chapters, but changing how some game mechanics work and reworking the stats made it a necessity, and I underestimated how much rewriting I'd have to do. A few scenes ended up not working well anymore, and I couldn't resist from revising a few clunky sections while I was at it.
Dialogue options were one of those that were significantly affected by the stat changes, but no worries, nothing is changed in the story -- meaning Wesley still fucks with the Ripper's life (oops), Richard still goes off doing whatever non-sus thing he's doing, you can still punch Bale (it's even a lot funnier this time), Bertrand remains a bitchy cop, and you'll still have your sad flashback with your former best friend/lover/crush or whatever they are to your MC.
The plan is to release the updated version of Prologue and Chapter 1 to patrons by the end of March (I will have a few days off work that week) and release it to the public once the new content is also ready, which I presume will be available next month (I will keep you all posted but I really hope I can get it done by then because it's been forever 🥲).
I might tweak Chapter 2 a little so the available portion can stand on its own rather than be divided into two parts, because it's just too long lmfao and is harming the pacing as I keep worrying about the length. I'm also incorporating a few suggestions a few folks gave me these past few months.
Succeeding chapters
I've probably said this before but things are bound to get more insane in HM once we're past the first three to four chapters. But also quicker to write in a way. They're the kind of scenes I thrive in, and while they have bigger variations, they're a lot more fast-paced, characters start being manipulative little shits, and the threats are more prevalent than ever. Your Ripper will not have a good time, but I certainly will (I say as I look at my outline and get sad doing it). There will be a few "breaks" in between, but this is not and will never be a light-hearted story. Anyway, I'm inclined to believe I'll be more consistent with updates when that time comes, so bear with me for now :')
PATREON CHANGES
This is getting long, so I'll just list the updated tier benefits and end the day with it. I'll be posting a schedule that I will be committing to (here and on patreon tomorrow morning), with the below details as well (so if you wanna stop here that's totally valid) but for now, here's the tentative list:
Tier 1
Early access - 4 days before a public update (this month will be an exception and you'll get the update as soon as the other tiers get it, too).
Sneak peeks and deleted scenes - I included the latter because apparently I delete a lot of great scenes
Hints for future revelations in the story - the categories will depend on results of polls; the hints may be about Bale's death, about Ripper's family, Pharos, Cyro, the ROs themselves, or the nightmares that the MC is getting, etc. Might be in form of vague conversations/dialogues between unknown characters, might be me dropping subtle info about those involved. Either way, it will be fun :). The polls and these hints will be given monthly.
Tier 2
Early access - 1 week before a public update
all the other benefits for Tier 1
monthly RO snippets - I'm still experimenting with this, but I might simply write MC x RO snippets (with different kinds of MCs for different scenarios because I deeply hate writing blank slate MCs, sorry)
a choice to see the POV of a character, decided through polls, for every chapter/update.
Tier 3
Early access - as early as it's available and goes through testing stages
all other benefits for previous tiers
Non-RO short stories
Previews on unintroduced characters :)
That's all for tonight! I am so tired lmfao but I hope you all are having a great weekend so far! See you tomorrow :)
#patreon#patreon changes#updates#hollowed minds progress update#interactive fiction#hollowed minds series#hollowed minds#wip#writing#hollowed minds book one#if wip#interactive novel
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Salaar Part 1 (FULL SPOILER-Y REVIEW)
I finally saw Salaar on Netflix, and as promised, I am going insane over the guys Varadeva.
MUSIC
Music is by Ravi Basrur, same guy who did the scoring of KGF. Let me start by saying that I absolutely loved the songs of KGF. They were high-energy songs perfect for getting yourself hyped up for something. I went into watching Salaar expecting the same thing, but I was proven wrong.
The songs in Salaar are actually more varied. The children in the school singing, "Prathi Gaadhalo" gave me goosebumps. I applaud the fact that Ravi Basrur has such range and versatility in the music he composes and arranges but you can still see his signature in his creations.
KGF & SALAAR?
Speaking of signatures... The visuals are beautiful. Obviously, Prashanth Neel's style is coming through in KGF and now Salaar. Also, there was something in the way the story is told to Shruti Haasan's character, just like how Rocky's story is narrated in KGF.
90% (or more) of mass action films have a flashback portion where the hero's backstory is revealed. In most cases, it's to clarify the hero's motivation or to show us his heroism/what he suffered/his traumas, etc.
In Salaar and KGF, the flashbacks are the entire story. In KGF, it's through an interview for things that happened in the past. In Salaar, the present and the past are more connected. It reminded me of Baahubali Part 1 where the present-day events make up the first half before we then dive into the entire backstory of Amarendra Baahubali. Mahendra's/Shiva's story in the present only really starts in the 2nd movie.
So this is where my ramblings lead to: we all know SS Rajamouli is thinking on a bigger scale. He's thinking epics. With KGF and Salaar, it feels like Prashanth Neel is gearing up for that, too. A lot of the people who dismissed KGF said it was because it was style over substance, which I'm fine with, to be honest, because what PN was trying to do in that movie was obvious, from the storyline to the music especially. He was trying to create a legend, the Legend of Rocky Bhai. Even if the story is not that unique and/or cringe, the fact is Rocky Bhai will now go down in history as one of the most unforgettable mass action characters of Indian cinema.
Here, in Salaar, we get a new world. It is in Khansaar where our epic unfolds.... (At least that was the vibe I was getting while watching.) I mean, Prithviraj said Salaar had Game of Thrones vibes. I'm a sucker for court politics in an interesting new world, so I was hooked. Also, that revelation of Deva being the rightful heir to the throne? C'mon, it's obvious, but it's a classic for a reason. It's such good angst and how Varadha and Deva navigate this revelation when it's revealed to everyone in Part 2 is gonna be amazing.
VARADHA and DEVA
In general, I think most of the characters are very interesting. Not gonna lie, I lost track of some of them midway through the movie. I was consumed by Varadeva every time they were both on screen.
Look, I kinda wished Ranga was still alive so there's that one character that has it out for Varadha and Deva would have to come to his rescue again in Part 2. Anyway, he was an interesting character because he spiraled so fast, and he was always clinging to Rudra's arm and going "I have never asked you for anything since childhood. I want Varadha." and then he was bawling his eyes out, like what a certifiably insane character.
Prabhas and Prithviraj's interactions were really very interesting and fun. I wish we had more. They bantered while fighting, and you can feel they're the type to make fun of each other and have fun. But you can also see how much they truly care for each other that time when Naarang was wielding his sword. They're like, "No, kill me, spare him." DUUUUUUDE. I loved that.
And when Varadha made up his mind, Deva was ready to support him. Who knows what's gonna happen in Part 2.
Action is okay. Was very nice to see them fight side by side.
OVERALL
The cast of characters, the story, the premise, the subplots going around... I'm excited for Part 2!
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A new life?
Part 7! Imma stop apologizing for things i have no control over, but it would seem that my power outage problems is soon to be resolved thankfully, so I'm able to write more parts faster. AND COMFORT HAS ARRIVED MY DUDES.
If you haven't read part 1 click here, consecutive parts will be linked at the bottom of each part.
Contains: Angst, Comfort has arrived! Paimon and Aether banter and Yun Jin being a darling. A certain someone has entered the chat.
Overview: : Aether and Paimon listened intently to your recent adventures of how you entered one of Liyue's most luxurious and sought for careers. As well as a flashback to the day you were accepted into said career. Let us not forget who joined us at our table by pure chance...
Gn reader, "You/your" pronouns used, No name for reader used.
After you all had returned to your table and had a waitress take your orders, you wasted no time to explain to them what you had been doing in Liyue as of late. As you spoke, the dishes you all had ordered was carried to your table one by one, and by the time your story came to a close, you had all started digging in.
"Wait! So when you left Mondstadt, you decided to leave everything behind and just... Come to Liyue? Without a plan?!" Paimons shrill voice was muffled as she attempted to speak around a mouthful of the food she had ordered.
"Well... basically, yeah..."
"I ended up coming to Liyue during that years Lantern Rite. I was lucky, you know, not being the only foreign traveler here. Whenever I got lost there was someone who could guide me or give directions. Everyone was so kind..." A fond smile was brought to your face as you think back to that wonderful time. You remember how welcoming everyone was, and you remember the woman that saw you alone and gave you a lantern so that you could have the chance to make a wish just like everyone else did. That all felt like such a long time ago now...
Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you return to the topic, "I spent most of the festival walking around and enjoying the different performances, one of which was at the city center. The music was so breathtaking...
A few people in the crowd had started dancing and I had decided to join in. After that I pretty much spent the rest of the festivities enjoying the various performances throughout the city. Oh, it was so lovely."
"So..." Aether spoke, jolting you out of another one of your trips through your memories, "that's how you ended up catching the eyes of the people in the Opera House?"
"Were they like... Talent agents or something?"
"Yeah, that's right," you said as you lifted your chopsticks to your lips.
You suddenly remember how difficult it was to use them at first...
Lucky for you you had someone help you learn. He was a good teacher... In no time you were quite good at handling them.
"They approached me and asked if I could audition for them as a dancer once the events of the Lantern Rite had come to a close."
"At first I was uncertain. I wasn't familiar with any of Liyue's traditional dances, but I was willing to give it a shot. I needed to start looking for a job anyways, And there they were, offering me a chance."
While Paimon seemed to be more interested in drooling over the various dishes the waitress had just brought to the table than the conversation at present, Aether listened intently.
"It would've been a big mistake if you didn't take them up on it, it seems. With how many people seem to like you, it looks like you're pretty good at what you do," he mused as he took some portions of the wide selection of cuisine and placed them in his bowl.
"I mean... I guess I am, even though I didn't know any local traditions, my audition ended up impressing them."
After the Lantern Rite had come to a close, you remembered the offer the Opera Troupe's agents made. They were apparently using the Lantern Rite as an opportunity to scout out talented people among the citizens during the festivities. You had to ask some of the locals for directions to the audition's venue, which they were more than happy to give. They even wished you luck...
But you were so nervous.
Would you really be accepted so easily, despite being an outsider? Despite only having been in Liyue for such a short time?
You weren't a performer, having mostly danced at Mondstadt's Ludi Harpastum and Windblume festivals. You often practiced dancing with the Deaconess of Favonius Cathedral after she learned you had an aptitude for dancing, though you never did more.
You were so nervous in the fact that you were inexperienced in performing in front of others. You were an office worker, helping wherever you could in managing the winery.
What need did you have to learn to dance?
But there was something else that overrode that nervousness.
It was excitement.
Not even a week into being in Liyue, and not even two days after making your wish you were already making giant leaps of progress in your new life.
When you made your wish, you were sceptical on whether wishes made on a lantern would even come true.
And now you've learned that, to your greatest surprise and pleasure, they do.
In the audition, they asked the dancers to perform a traditional dance from the country they hailed from.
Most of the people auditioning were from Liyue, a few were from Inazuma, having taken the opportunity of leaving the nation of eternity soon after the Sakoku Decree was lifted.
And you? You were the only one from Mondstadt.
And what better performance can be done than a dance from the Nation of Wine and Song itself? From the City of Bards?
With a fond smile gracing your lips, you look back at your friends sitting across from you who were both looking at you as you were reminiscing.
"Needless to say they were... happy with my audition."
Paimon clapped her tiny hands with so much excitement, the child-sized chopsticks clenched between her fingers almost being flung into the air.
"That's fantastic!" The fairy seemed to have stars in her eyes as she looked at you.
"You must be making a tonnn of Mora. Ohhhh Paimon can already imagine how much good food you must get from such a luxurious job."
The girl had such a dreamy look on her face as she drooled over the thought of just what kinds of delicacies you must get on a day to day basis.
You chuckled at Paimon's theatrics warmly. "That's quite true. I myself was surprised at the pay even just the background dancers receive, let alone one of the main performers Ms. Yun and I."
"Ooooh you must know what places have the best dishes, right?"
The small girl floated onto her back and threw her hand over her forehead, as though she was suffering from some horrible ailment as she sighed in an exaggerated tone, "Paimon's grown so weak from the awful food Aether had been making Paimon eat when traveling. Being left with nothing more than dried sunsettias and cold leftovers for so long... You can't leave Paimon to suffer like that."
As she looked at you with wide, begging eyes, you fought so hard to suppress your laugh at the look of feigned contempt Aether threw the girl.
"My cooking isn't that bad Paimon," The golden boy sniffed as he crossed his arms and tilted his face away, "Well, if you hate my food so much you can always just make your own from now on-"
A look of pure horror flashed on the girl's face as she scrambled to float upright, holding her hands and begging frantically "Paimon takes that back! Aether you're the bestest cook ever, Paimon doesn't need anything else, she swears!"
You couldn't hold it in anymore as you burst out in laughter at the exchange.
The boy sitting across from you could not keep his serious façade and snorted, which made you both laugh that much harder.
"Ah! You both are such meanies!" Paimon cries as she realised Aether had tricked her. She flies to you and swats your shoulder, "Don't you laugh! See how he treats Paimon?"
To which you respond with more laughter that you attempted to suppress. You couldn't breath as your shoulders shook while you tried to cover your face, your hands cool on your warm face.
"Y-yes, I see that..." You lower your hands and attempt to at least LOOK serious, barely holding back the snickering that threatened to rise again as you took a well needed breath. "Aether how dare you-" Your attempts at being serious failed miserably as you doubled over laughing anew, this time getting Paimon to start up again despite the obvious giggles breaking through her so called "complaining".
Ah how you missed this, you thought to yourself. You missed the simplicity of just going out for dinner and laughing with friends. You missed that light feeling in your chest that made you feel so weightless.
It was nice.
You had promised yourself that you wouldn't make friends, you were too afraid of being left behind or discarded again. But this...
This made you think that maybe friends wouldn't be too bad to have again.
Even if it might mean that they'll leave again.
When they leave, it will hurt.
But for now...
In the moment, laughing with your friends.
You were happy.
You should let yourself be happy, no matter what the future might hold.
Let yourself be happy with what you have now, and worry about everything else later.
flashback time wOooOooOOo
To you who I write to today,
I am delighted to inform you of your acceptance as a performer into Liyue's Yun-Han Opera Troupe.
We who were tasked with judging the auditions were impressed with what you had shown us, and it was with unanimous approval that you be selected for lead dancer.
I certainly look forward to working with one as skilled as yourself and to witness you in your career.
Yours sincerely,
Ms. Yun Jin, Director of Yun-Han Opera Troupe.
You could not believe what you had just read. You had read it three times and you still could not convince yourself that those were the exact words that had been inked onto the delicate paper.
Was this a joke? Surely not...
You stare at the signature at the end of the letter. It looked to be genuine...
Could the letter had been given to you by mistake? Was it meant for someone else?
Looking at the envelope the scented letter was carried in, it clearly stated your name. Well, that being the name you had chosen to go by in your new life. You did not want to be traced by keeping your name and risking being found out.
Seeing yourself be referred to by your chosen name... felt good...
But that meant... The letter really was addressed to you...
"Ah..."
If you had not already been sitting you would have had to take a seat before your legs gave out under you, you had to take a second to process...
"Are you alright? You seem pale."
Startled, you looked up.
Yun Jin was seated across from you, looking very worried.
She had decided to deliver your letter of admission to the Opera Troupe personally, so she had arranged to meet you at the tea house where she was going to perform that evening. Yun Jin had to be there early to prepare, and she had wanted to deliver the letter. Time management was difficult when your schedule was always full, after all.
'Two birds, one stone,' she reasoned.
Though she didn't think that the stone would hit you so hard that you'd seem to almost pass out.
She reached over to hand you one of the cups of fragrant tea that had been readied for your meeting.
You idly think of what flower could have been used for it as you take a sip, the floral scent and flavor soothing as it enveloped your senses.
Realizing you had been quiet for a bit too long, which made the poor girl worry even more, you scramble to assure her that you're fine.
"I'm sorry, yes. I'm alright," you took a deep breath. "I... I was just not expecting to actually be accepted. This is..."
You give her a sheepish smile and chuckle a bit, rubbing the back of your neck as you put the teacup down on the table with your other hand. "This is beyond what I expected."
"To be very honest with you, out of everyone who had auditioned, you were the one who caught our attention the most," Yun Jin had seemed to have calmed down after the reassurance. To be fair, she herself understood how stressful it must have been for you, she was in the same career as you after all. She has had to experience all of this and more. She could relate.
"I know it must have been nerve wracking, waiting for a response," she continued, taking up her own teacup, "I apologize for causing you need for worry and stress."
Surprised with her gentleness, you respond to her hastily, "Oh, no no, please don't apologize. It had just been overthinking on my part." It really was. Everything had been happening so quickly, you barely had time to process the events that were unfolding before the next reared its head.
And so much of it was unpleasant... these good things and happy times as of late wouldn't last, you were sure of it. You were convinced that good things weren't in your reach...
You hoped that this good string of luck would last. So many good opportunities were presenting themselves in such quick succession, you so desperately wanted to reach out and grab all of them, never letting go.
This opportunity Yun Jin had given you...
You will work hard to keep it.
You will prove to yourself that you deserve it. This chance...
Ms. Yun inclined her head at your words, then looked up at you.
"Either way," she spoke warmly, with a small smile gracing her painted lips, "I much look forward to working with you. You're incredibly kind and very skilled, I have no doubt that you will be well loved as a part of the Opera Troupe. I for one am very glad to have had the chance to meet you."
Not much more could be said, as at that moment one of the staff let Ms. Yun know that the time for her performance was nearing.
Excusing herself with a small apology and a sweet smile, she departed from the table to head to a separate room off to the side of the small stage of the teahouse to prepare.
Meanwhile you were still seated at the table, being left with burning cheeks at the compliments the girl had given you.
You look down to the letter you had placed on the table, eyes running over those words...
"...glad to have had the chance to meet me?" Your voice was lowered to an imperceptible whisper. "Looking forward to..."
Your fingers skin the edge of the delicate paper, as though you had to make sure it was real and would not disappear like a hazy mirage in a scorching desert.
You couldn't believe it. This was it.
Your wish...
It came true...
It has been a long time since you had breathed so easily. It was as though an invisible weight was lifted from your body, your lungs no longer suffocating under the pressure. The edges of your mouth twitched upward, a small, barely perceptible smile lighting your face.
How long you had been seated there looking at the letter, you did not know. Your tea had grown cold and the tables around you became crowded with people awaiting Ms. Yun's play to begin.
Not much longer, and people will be coming to watch you... That realization dawned on you finally. A lighthearted, breathless laugh made its way out of you.
Any stage fright you might have had before would have to be worked around now, but even then, surely you will be alright. After all, you had gone through with the auditions and passed with flying colors first try.
With a sigh you tear your eyes from the letter and take a look at the people around you.
Everyone was chatting amongst each other. You saw families, friends and partners seated with each other, out for a nice evening, spending time with loved ones.
You were the only person in the teahouse seated alone...
That is, until a stranger made their way to your table.
"Pardon me, are any of these seats occupied or reserved?"
You jumped a bit at the voice.
You turn to where the deep, rich voice had come from, seeing a man standing near you. He was wearing a a long brown coat that was accented with bronze and gold. The details embroidered on his clothes looked somewhat like the scales of some mythological beast. The tails of his coat was bifurcated and carried those same scale-like markings, bringing to mind how Liyue seemed to have a lot of symbolism that referred to dragons and other creatures of the like.
Your eyes went to his face, and your breath caught.
He was beautiful. There was something almost otherworldly about how perfectly sculpted his features were, as though he was made by the gods themselves.
And his eyes... Were they glowing?
Wait... He was looking at you.
Realizing he had likely spoken to you, your eyes go to the seats surrounding your table.
"Oh- Uh. No, not at all." You gestured towards the seats vaguely.
"Well then, I surely hope that you do not mind that I join you. Many of the other seats are already occupied in expectation for Ms. Yun's play."
His voice was such a deep tenor, you could almost feel how it rumbled despite him standing a few paces away.
You were enchanted by it.
You felt as though you could listen to him speak of the most boring things in the world and you would be just as enraptured for hours.
Stuttering out sounds that barely passed as words, you mentally slapped yourself.
What was going on with you?!
You're not a shy person, albeit often quiet and keeping to yourself most of the time, you knew how to speak to strangers. You shouldn't let a bizarrely pretty man shake you up so badly just by speaking to you.
Shaking your head and taking a deep breath, you calmed your nerves and spoke properly with a slightly embarrassed smile.
"No, I... I don't mind at all.
Please, take a seat."
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Welcome to Absolute Zero Day aka
No More time traveling day aka
I can still feel things Wednesday.
Second to last Wednesday folks and I bring news from the trenches.
So, I don't know if the show has broken me down or what, but this episode was good. I mean, my heart has began to thaw and I could feel again. And I felt good. I only rolled my eyes like 3 times, and not once did I scream at my screen. Good times.
So... now we are firmly in the present. The present here being after the accident that didn't happen this time. 2018. And...
They meet as adults! Not as exciting as one of my favourites, they met as kids, but in the context of this show, this was kinda great.
So, they reunite. They talk on the phone at first, and both of them remember the other but none of them says anything about it, because they both think the other doesn't remember. Then Ongsa pulls a running man moment and goes to Suasoon who is - You guessed it! - in the cinema. And what is he watching? A Wrinkle in Time...lol
Now for the part I still don't like. Because of the various wrinkles with the time traveling, their memories are different.
Suasoon remembers basically everything. The first timeline where they were together and Adult Ongsa got in an accident, then he made a wish, went back in time and met Young Ongsa, they dated and then he went back to the present where he was alone.
Adult Ongsa remembers the dating the adult portion of the story but then he also traveled in time to warn himself, so he did meet Young Soon but quickly cut ties so that he could avoid the future accident.
So now they basically start dating as two grown adults. Crazy stuff really. But the thing is, and really this is a small thing but I'm not a fan, most of the memories Adult Ongsa has of Soon, are when Suasoon was an adult and he was a kid. So now, even at the same age, Ongsa calls Soon, Phi Soon. And I can appreciate some honorific banter but in this case is just a reminder of the age gap romance portion of the story that I didn't like. Specially because they talk about it and show that bit in flashbacks.
There was still a lot of crying. But I must admit, the meeting in the cinema as adults touched my cold dead heart. It was cute and then they went to the coffee shop and Soon met Sine but she doesn't remember him, so Soon sad again. But yeah they are very happy now.
Judging from the previews for the last episode, it's gonna be a very happy ending with a lot of reunions and a trip to the beach.
Well, by job here is done. See you next week for the last episode.
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I finished Piofiore: Episodio 1926 on Nintendo Switch a while ago. I enjoyed it a lot and it might be the best otome game I've played so far. There's a beefy amount of content in Episodio 1926 - I reached 100% completion in 70 hours. There's 6 love interest routes, each with two endings. In addition there's an "Alternativa" story route.
In this sequel we return to the city of Burlone, Italy. The game continues from the events of Piofiore: Fated Memories. The three competing mafia families Falzone, Visconti and Lao-Shu still hold control in the city but are facing an uncertain future due to political developments in the country. A religious relic has been stolen and the mafia families must join forces to fight a common threat. The protagonist Lili has a special role in the events as many parties' interests relate to her.
This time you can freely choose from a menu which character's route you want to start playing (with exception of one that unlocks only after playing through the Alternativa story).
The story was pretty good and as a whole I liked it more than the first game. Episodio 1926 had its share of sleep inducing routes but some were really good. Nicola's and Orlok's routes with great story/lore portions rose above the others in my eyes. I recall Gilbert's route had some good stuff too. There was a decent amount of historical references and a lot of nice action scenes too.
I especially enjoyed the parts with depictions of violence and murder - which I assume is usually not the reason someone would pick a game of this genre. If you're into that kind of content too, Piofiore is a nice pick.
At times it felt like the flow of the story/dialogue was interrupted with "Aria" (flashbacks from the prior game) and "Meanwhile" stories too frequently.
The dialogue was written nicely and I enjoyed the exchanges between the competing mafiosos. They're sort of friends, yet enemies and it creates some delightful dynamics and humor.
However, there was one specific part in dialogue that felt out of place: Dante being worried that they possibly couldn't violate on someone's human rights. It made him look like a hypocrite - I've seen what happens in the Falzone basement. Henri's route had some really ridiculous dialogue that made me and my husband laugh in disbelief. Henri apparently thinks he's hung like an elephant.
The characters got a lot more depth in the sequel and Nicola ended up surprising me. I didn't care for him much in the previous game but here he got to shine. His actions really highlighted his intelligence and I liked his playful, mischievous attitude. In that regard he is similar to Yang who likes to rile up others for his entertainment. Yang is still Yang (thankfully) but he was a lot more docile here. Still an entertaining character and my favorite out of the love interests. Gilbert was my husband's favorite.
Lili is still a kind-hearted damsel in distress but she's got the smarts to navigate difficult situations. She overcomes her fears and is ready to act to defend herself and the people she cares for.
What comes to side characters, there are plenty of new ones along with returning characters. They help build the lore and world by expanding on past and current events. Emilio's motives and backstory was a very welcome addition to the game as he was a mystery that intriqued me already in the first game.
I liked all of the character designs and Lan ended up being my favorite side character with her energetic attitude. There was one particularly funny/good moment where Lili was upset with Yang and Lan got upset on her behalf too and encouraged Lili to display her irritation and act on it. That actually led to a heartfelt scene with some nice character development as well.
The Japanese voice acting for the characters is top notch and helps flesh out the characters' personalities. Emilio's and Yuan's voices annoyed my husband, haha. Gilbert's "yo Dante!" will forever live in our heads. Unfortunately the protagonist Lili is not voiced.
Music is mainly the same as in the first game. It would have been nice to get more new music but at least the tracks are pleasant and fit the events.
The game's visuals are a treat. From the beautifully crafted user interface to backgrounds and character portraits. Sadly there's no portrait for Lili when she talks. The CG illustrations are some of the best in the market. What really delighted me was the effort they've put into designing the clothing, jewelry and hair. We get to see Lili sporting various kinds of attire with incredible detail and her hairstyle varies too.
There is one thing that bothers me in the artist's style however: Lili's comically large eyes didn't quite fit the art style in my opinion.
I was pretty happy with the localization of the game. Now I don't know enough Japanese to judge the accuracy of the translation and I'm not a native English speaker but the text seemed well-written. Not much typos or errors. I remember a few occasions where a word or two were missing but luckily it didn't affect my ability to understand the gist of the sentences.
The biggest offender in the game was poor contrast. There were these memoir parts called "Aria" occurring throughout the game where white text was displayed on top of a background image without a dialogue box. It made it nigh impossible to read parts of the text when the text appeared on top of white/light parts of the image.
Another pet peeve of mine was that the sequel continues with the grave sin of talking about food and never showing it. I just love looking at masterfully drawn food in games and not getting any of that left me sour.
I had such a good time with the game that I double-dipped on physical copies of both Piofiore: Fated Memories and Piofiore: Episodio 1926 after playing through the digital versions. I adored the characters and their interactions and I especially enjoyed the darker parts that helped with worldbuilding.
Now that I've finished both games I feel slightly melancholic due to having to say goodbye to the characters. If that is not a sign of a good game, I don't know what is.
I think my husband became a Piofiore fan as well! He was partially watching me play through both games. During my Episodio 1926 playthrough he was inspired to start a new game in Rimworld where he created the Piofiore main characters and assigned suitable traits for each.
If they ever decided to make a third game in the Piofiore series, I'd buy it in a heartbeat! If Piofiore caught your interest, I recommend playing Piofiore: Fated Memories first, even though it's the weaker game out of the two.
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My magnum opus: This portion of the Ch16 Rough Day comic script edits
Ok I say something's my magnum opus ALOT, but this is it...at least for now, thats how much I adore this. Once again im trying to keep as much of it to the original as possible but there really is so much that you can do to modify that much charachter-developing smut out before you have to make another scenario to convey the same message and flow with the original story and plot/direction seamlessley.
Why did I suddenly jump to abridging the LAST section of ch 16 for chrisitan roomates today? Well, I happened to rewatch Eyes Wide Shut today, and the Christmas party scene between Alice and the Stranger got me thinking of the perfec scenario in which to remove explicit smut from the picture while conveying the same idea:
Instead of taunting Mando with Spicy Comm time, why not have Sweet Girl talking to another man while he listens instead?
ALOOOOt of good ideas from EWS entering my mind palace now (not the creepy ones tho...also def no infidelity bc SG WOULD NEVER) for the edits, and Im so excited to share more editied/revised/added scenes prompted by EWS!
***DISCLAIMER: since this more like a script right now, not all of the dialougue is included yet (will do that when I make my way back to CH 16 in a few weeeks probrobly, trying to do edits in chronological order of the chapters), just the descriptions and jists of the changed scenes, how they relate to past and future content, etc, although admit thats some parts have full dialougue because I couldnt stop myself.***
Anyway, heres your CHUM my fellow sickos, feast away!
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ROUGH DAY (original by @no-droids), CH 16, "Ask me again tomorrow" (last part): ABRIDGED FOR CHRISTIAN ROOMATES BY @roughdaysandart
Sweet Girl is in the middle of downtown Nariss, after buying a change of clothes. Standing in the square right in front of a large tower of an inn. She surveys at least two dozen floors, noticing how it even boasts a convention/event center, or maybe it's a restaurant, somewhere around the center, the large, warmly-lit balcony likely having a perfect view of the city skyline, and she hears it audibly bustling. She notices a banner outside the front doors of the Inn advertising an all-night auction. Some traveling collection of artistic and historical rarities from the outer-rim.
Knowing it's crazy-expensive to pay for anythig here, she knows there's no way she's spending her precious credits on a room, even after spending last night in a tree, and is definitely not feeling bold enough to break into a room either when a New Republic headquarters is literally right next to the Inn.
At first she naturally wants to stay clear of officers, knowing they're trouble for Din, but then recalls what he said before she left.
(insert flashback : “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”
Thinking about the growing variables in her favor, along with her increasing fatigue, she decides she IS feeling bold enough to try sneaking into the lobby or a secluded corner within the inn that has a sofa she could rest on for the night. But then another thought comes to mind: on the chance that Din does get close to her tonight: if she’s going for crowds and officers, why try to be out of the way then? Why not take it as far as she possibly can right now?
She shuffles in her pack to find and put on her mechanic’s goggles, which she only brought out of habit, not believing that she would actually end up using them for something like this. Finding a spare tool and trash bin in an adjacent alley, she confidently walks past the Inn’s receptionist, grumbling about how she hates being called in this late for repairs. She then rides the lift to a random floor, finds her way to the nearest bathroom, leaves the tools in a random stall, and takes all the time in the galaxy freshening herself up and changing into her clean clothes.
Close to midnight. She knows where she's gotta go next. Leaving her bag in the fancy decorative dresser in the ladies room, she walks out, an air of vitality entering her despite the fatigue with the new feeling of cleanliness. Making her way to the lift again, she politely asks a passing service droid where that auction she saw a banner for is tonight.
She finds everything she's looking for there. She expected something like this, but didn't expect to hit the total Maker-jackpot. There are officers even at the door of the bar, holding security for the largest and grandest collection of items she has ever seen on the balcony. For them to not hire private security, she thinks, the event or company must be affiliated with the New Republic somehow, maybe some resesrch-based or educational branch. Shes seen countless large gatherings these past few months as a consequence of traveling with Din, but never has she been to anything like this. Such a vibrant venue littered with well dressed attendees, whom she guesses must all be there to admire or bid for the pieces. Upon passing the epicenter of the auction, she takes notice of the particularly ordinary outer-rim objects and such displayed, knowing first hand of how common or worthless such things are, at least back on Arvala-7. Perhaps to everyone else, such ordinary things from the outer-rim are seen as exotic rarities.
She also comes to see that the balcony and patio is not only a convention center, but also dons an equally exsquisite bar. And it's not the mere presence of a bar that necessarily excites her, but the plethora of plush seating fixtures littering the surrounding space of it. And although she didn't want to waste credits on a room here, she KNOWS she has credits for what she sees as she nears the bar. She can't resist when she notices a certain wine fixture on one of the glass shelves, its contents the same distinct color as and labeled with the depiction of that purple fruit she had come to crave these last few days here.
Drink in hand, she makes her way to the large sofa up against the corner farthest from the doors, passing close to and admiring the view of the skyline at the edge of the balcony. Now, her view is triangulated, where she can see the bar, crowded auction, and the vast opening of the balcony. She plans to just rest there for a few hours, maybe just doze off until she gathers her strength again and can scurry off to begin evading Din long enough tomorrow to reach the orphanage.
It is then she notices the comm clock change to midnight, and she opens the comm first, making an effort to cup her hand along her face and ear in an attempt to block the ambient chatter from Din. He notices her demeanor, along with the chatter, predicting correctly that she is somewhere nicer in the city after spending last night in a tree. They talk for a few minutes as she continues to sip on her glass, more frequently as the banter grows, not imagining the fruit could taste any better than it already did. Okay with the alcohol, yes, but also with Din’s company. He mentions that they need to charge the communicators tonight, and SG contemplates how she is going to find a place to leave hers as she rests in the bar for the night.
After a bit of her glass is emptied, she sets it on the low table in front of her, readying to respond to Din’s last remark. From her lowered gaze, she sees a hand reach out, lifting to take it away. “Sorry, that's my glass”, she protests as she adjusts her gaze upwards, vision noticeably a little buzzed. A well dressed man. A very well dressed man. He pauses as she blinks, pulled out of her euphoria in forgetting anyone else or thing existed beyond the exchange between her and Din. In one motion he then slides past the table to sit by her at the empty side of the long sofa, handing the glass back to her hand. “I’m absolutely certain of it.” he clarifies warmly.
The comm is still open. She would have closed it to prevent anything the man said from possibly giving her location away, but her mind was lagging a little both from the unexpected newcomer and the continued buzz. The man's tone is noticeably flirtatious. A small introductory exchange occurs, and she entertains his flattery lightly, giving passive responses and continuing only because she is so humored by how Din relentlessly questions who this man is, what she's doing, through the earpiece. And, she can't help but feel a bit reckless with this ridiculously good wine in her system.
Throughout the conversation, her responses double in meaning to both the man and Din. They are mildly flirtatious responses to the man, but are in fact clever answers to all that Din grunts through the earpiece as he grows more agitated, though most of it is purposefully taunting, being how he knows this tone is only for him. But it is for him,she reasons, it just happens to also answer the things that man in front of her says.
The man attempts to impress her by mentioning his prestigious position in the traveling exhibition of outer rim rarities and such (funny line: about how she is an outer rim rarity/beauty). He mentions that this is the gallery’s last night, that they always do an all-night event to close the gallery before leaving in the morning. He sighs, stating how disappointed he is that he decided to leave earlier than the end of the event tonight, not expecting to happen upon company like her. He explains that he even had all his things already packed and put on the company ship, and that he was just on his way to drop off his key before he sat here (flashing the room key from out of his pocket intentionally).
She obviously doesn't even consider the proposition, but thinks for a moment. An empty room, a high rise SUITE, and the guest is conveniently NOT spending their last night in it. She, or maybe the wine, convinces herself that she HAS to keep entertaining him so she can distract him long enough to swipe that key. It's beyond dangerous territory with Din hearing it all, like poking a caged animal with the way he can just do nothing but endure. She may know that it's just a distraction to get the room key, but Din most certainly won't. He will think she is escalating things just to get to him for no reason, and she wouldn't normally be this bold, but the promise of a free shower and mattress is too irresistible. Plus, she's sure she can explain herself to him, however warped but harmless her logic is right now, once he calms down. If he calms down. If he doesn't find her right this second and choke this man out right in front of her with blind rage. But Din’s growing demands into the comm to know her location make it obvious that he won't be finding her anytime soon.
She takes that into consideration, and can't help but enjoy the sudden power trip she has in making Din this helpless, knowing how rare it is. Disguised in conversation with the man, she lets Din know of her desire for him to see her, and how he should naturally feel the same desire. It's in this section that she discovers and turns on the video function of the communicator.
“…You wouldn’t.” Din challenges.
Din can now see and hear her head-on as the comm on her wrist faces her head while it moves to rest on the higher cushion of the couch near the man’s neck. Din is obviously fuming through the ear piece the whole time now being able to see what she is doing. Between blending conversation with the man, she manages to look into the camera and basically speak directly to Din, the audacity only making him more ruffled. The conversation with the man continues to escalate, and she moves closer, subtly inching her freehand where she knew she saw the key return to his pocket.
After successfully swiping the key, the next few moments in their conversation ultimately brings it to an end. The man asks about something that makes her response include a word that has “Man” within it, and the exchange ends something like this:
“Man-uh-man(___finish word___),” she stutters, feeling something as her heart remembers that all too familiar word she was so close to uttering. The stuttering means that she is taken aback when she hears something in the earpiece interrupt the word. “Din,” he whispers, so quiet she almost wouldn't have heard if it didn't come directly in her ear, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyway, and then her face turns red hot. The man asks if everything is alright with her sudden flusteredness.“D-Din,” she blurts instead, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell, though at the same time quite forcefully trying to NOT say it. It would NOT be good to mention his name to anyone, even if by accident, even if the man has no idea what those three precious letters really mean. She blurts, “D-DINNER, I–uh– need to have dinner, that's all-uh. T-too much to drink heh heh”.
The man mentions how late it is for dinner, though propositions to join her. She manages to convince him to stay seated when she promises to let him after she uses the ladies room. In the last few creative flirtatious remarks she uses to try and appear genuine about it, Din’s voice comes through the ear piece, only different.
“Stop.” he growls, the return of his natural authoritative tone jarring in her flustered moment. He must have seen it, she thinks. She still had her wrist up when she was caught off guard, before she ended the video-function. He saw the way her tummy and chest started to heave, how her body froze at the shock of hearing him say his name suddenly—and yeah, Maker, he saw it, because his tone makes her quickly scurry out of the bar, sad to have accidentally left the rest of her glass behind. Oh well, she thinks, just makes the man believe more that she's coming back, better for her she guesses.
Making her way back to the bathroom she cleaned up in a few levels below, she begins trying to explain herself to a very incoherent Din, trying to start with how she had to do it, but not able to clarify exactly why she had to quick enough over Din’s explosiveness. The middle of the exchange goes something like this:
“Dank Far–,” Din spits through the earpiece, and she thinks the mic might just break. “You think—y-you think—”
What?” she hums, basking in the afterglow and rush of the epic saga before and so, so curious. Truly, completely mindless in this cloud of sensation, she has no clue what she's thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell her, it’s him.
She reaches into the dresser in the ladies room and hauls her heavy pack onto her back. There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before she hears another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.
“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”
She makes her way out into the hall and towards the lift, considering it. He may have not predicted her strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising her by now. “...Maybe.”
You can hear the seeping agitation in the short pause.
“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”
Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down her arms, but she's gained four hours on top of a twelve hour head start. He can’t scare her with that tone, not when she's still woozy with giddyness and he isn’t right in front of her. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, she just blinks gently at the communicator as she pushes the button to the floor that matches the one on the room key, finding strength in being the only one to get him this worked up when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”
“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, her heart subtly begins to pick up at the speed in which he's going to speak this fast. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”
The chill down her spine doesn’t reach her eyes, she doesnt let it. She just feels herself smile, tilting her head, but Din doesn’t accept her silence the way she’s always accepted his. He wants an answer from her, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what she originally planned for.
“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.
As the lift door opens, she thinks ahead and decides to spare them both his likely meteoric response of hearing the room door beep and open in a minute.
“How long do you think you can keep running?”
She waits a second when she braces herself at what she's about to dare to do before she quickly whispers it. “I………gotta go”, she winces with a mischievous smile as she goes to close the comm line.
“DON’T YOU D-” Dins voice starts, only to be cut off immediately.
The silence is deafening after, him practically yelling that last bit, and she hopes that the cradle was closed so the kids' poor little ears were saved from the blast. She exits the lift and moves down the hall, heart still racing from daring to cut him off at the peak of his rage. She finally finds the key’s matching room, and Maker, when she opens the door, she tries to stifle her gasp so as to not wake any neighbors in the hall.
The room is extravagant. The first thing she notices is the giant window peeking over the breathtaking skyline, letting in all of the purple and blue hues of light the sky blended with the glowing lights of the city. And then the bed, a giant bed and a giant mattress. It might as well be made out of pure spice the way it makes her nearly sob with happiness.
She then spends an untraceable amount of time enjoying the exploits of her treacherous efforts. An actual shower and mattress, dying of sleep depravity and the mental energy needed to keep up that whole exchange through it. Once she finally pauses to settle on the bed, she opens the comm line again, bracing herself for what might be the most nervous she's had to be in a while.
“Finally going to tell me where you are?”. Din’s voice isn't loud, but it most certainly isn't relaxed. He must be livid now, having all that time to fester and brew as she took her time cleaning herself up in the fresher. He might only sound this calm not to scare her off, if that's what he thinks made her hang up last time anyway. “In a way, yeah.” she starts. “It's actually good news, but you may hate me for it, if you don't already.” She lets a short pause ring in the air in an attempt to measure his temperature. “.......good news…..” Din finishes, audibly impatient and saying it through a clenched jaw. Seeing how he is making such a desperate effort to sound composed and just keep her talking, she once again thinks it's safe to venture into dangerous territory once more tonight with him.
“Remember how you thought I wasn't planning to stay with someone I'd already met, or I'd already be there?”
“…………………………………..yes”
“…..Well I am here””
“…………………………………..okay”
“B-but i'm not with them”
“................................................uhhuh”
“A-and do you remember the man I talked to earlier, at the bar?”
“.............................................…I'm trying not to”
And do you remember when he mentioned his uh…room?
“………”
“D-din?”
“……………………….how…could I….forget.” Din spurts through gritted teeth, almost a mumble. She's sure if he's got something in his hand right now, it's most certainly broken with the way his fists must be clenched, she just prays it's not the kid.
“Uh-well-I um….”
“…………………………………......you what?”
“.........................................…. I’m in their room–”
“you–”
A prolonged silence sinks in, and she wonders how long she can even let this go on before something genuinely bad happens. She's already had her fun for the night, why push it more when she's already gotten what she wanted out of him?
Letting DIn’s stunned silence radiate a few seconds more, she finally laughs, explosively, forgetting any concept of neighbors anymore. Stuttering between giggles, she manages to utter: “Im-s-soryy-HAHA-its b-because I haha-i um–....I st-stole his room key—hahaHAHAHAHAH–I–m so sorry that I -–ha– but it was right there and he didn't even notice-HAHAHA- when he was busy talking to me, so dumb and clueless HAHAHAHAHAHA” . More silence over the comm, and she wonders if he actually hung up before she could finish before. She stops laughing a moment to check in case. “D-din? I'm so sorry, haha” she says breathlessly, gasping for air and hoping for any response at all at this point.
“......For the first time in my life, I feel provoked to throw my helmet.”
“ahaha–Please dont be mad, I had to–”
“ –Mad? That's not the word we're dealing with, what we've got is something I can't even think of a word for. And you HAD to?” He sounds beyond annoyed, but she's grateful he's not boiling like before.
“HAHAHAHAHA, k-kind of–HA–”
“….You think that was funny?” his tone gets serious again. "You better pray that I never find that man".
"Well I know for a fact he's not coming back, which is why I took it" she childishly giggles.
Din stays silent. For a second, she prays he doesn't actually throw the whole chase out the window just to find that man as soon as possible now and vent his anger.
Suppressing her gasps for oxygen, she starts: “ohh come on, you predicted that I would be somewhere nicer after spending last night in a tree. You should've known what I was really after the whole time haaha- I I know you didn't see him show me the card but– I let you see me the whole time, how could I in Maker’s name ever–?”
“Doesn't matter if it was a means to an end, that was just….. way too hard to watch.”
A second of silence passes as her breathing finally slows.
“I'm sorry you had to hear it”, she breathes, sincerity rising in her tone. “But I wouldn't have wanted you to hang up, I missed your voice. … I swear, all I was thinking about was you the whole time, in my ear, I could barely keep up the conversation trying not to say your name. I only thought of you and how much I wanted you with me then.”
“……………..”
“-Y-you and t-the uh–room key—haHAHAHHAHAHHAH”
“I've met mercenaries less sadistic than you are right now.” His voice sounds flat, just in pure astonishment at how she is actually able to push it yet again. Another burst of laughter, and she falls back on the bed, gasping for air as she tries to regain her composure.“Well why don't you come give me what I deserve and lock me away already, hmmm? Bounty hunter?”
“That's one way to put it”, his voice sounding more humored at the thought, though clearly still trying to sound as upset as he can. “AHA-hahahaaaaahahaha…..”, her laughter fades finally from pure exhaustion, her abdomen now on fire from the extended flexing.
Note: and something like : "you know im not goint to let this go/forget this easily/make you pay for that"
"Haaaa, I'm counting on it." she sighs.
A few seconds pass as the tension settles with the time. “Give me your coordinates”. A tender, sweet tone seeping through the mic. She closes her eyes and exhales, “Ask me again tomorrow.” But then, instead of immediately responding, she just hears Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace she’s been able to keep over the past few days. She doesn't think it sounds like a run necessarily, she knows that his legs and strides are far longer than hers and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for her. She hears the rhythm of her demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in her both fears it and welcomes it.
“We’ll see,” he tells her, and then the red light vanishes and her earpiece clicks to silence.
She moves to place the comm on the charger at the bedside nightstand, at last able to put her mind to sleep along with her body.
Even though it takes her much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting night and not being used to flickering light when she tries to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, she’s eventually able to pass out. But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, she turns over and accidentally knocks her communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.
It blinks with four percent battery life.
#mando#the mandolorian#mando fanfiction#mando x reader#the mandolarian#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#din djarin#drawing#rough day#star wars#rough day fanfic#edit#editing#my edit#my fic#star wars fanfiction#fanfiction#pedrohub#pedro pascal#depraved#im sick#romance#flirting#banter#the broski report#britney broski#brittany broski#broski nation#broski report
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My Top Reads of 2022
Not totally back yet for another day, so I'm posting about reading rather than BTS. lol feel free to skip over it if you'd rather! I just wanted to share some of my favorite reads of 2022. I read 159 books this year (24 of them during my tumblr break the last few weeks!), here are just a few that I loved! If you want more opinions over these or perhaps over books I didn't love as much, I'd be happy to talk more about them!
In no particular order:
He Who Fights with Monsters by Shirtaloon (5 stars):
Content warnings for violence, mentions of cannibalism and death
A LitRPG style fantasy novel that is both high stakes but Still light hearted at the same time. I loved seeing the mayhem happen and the characters grow. It left me so excited to see how the over arching story continued to evolve. Plus I loved the friend groups dynamics here too! It's a little unpolished and times, can be a little slow, told through a flashback. But I loved Jason for the most part and loved hearing his adventures. Super funny and enjoyable.
The Deepest of Secrets by Kelley Armstrong (5 stars)
Content warnings for murder, gun violence, animal attack and mentioned animal death, sexually explicit scenes
Book 7 and the final installment of the Rockton series, but with the promise of a spin off that makes my heart soar. I love this series an unhealthy amount. Amazing characters, amazing writing, fast paced, engaging, one of my all time favorite OTPs. Thriller novels that aren't terrifying but kept the suspense flowing the whole time too. Can't wait to see where Casey and Eric go next. Book 1 in the series is called City of the Lost.
One for All by Lillie Lainoff (4 stars)
Content warnings for ableism, SA, bullying, death of a parent, grief
I was so excited for this one! It was a little predictable and I honestly think it mightve been better If the romance was left behind all together. But the romance portion still wasn't bad. It was excellent for a debut novel. The representation for POTS here was amazing. I loved the strength in the MC, the friendships were all top tier and so sweet. I absolutely loved it! Especially well done for a debut novel too!
The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (3 - 5 stars through the books)
Trigger warnings, like ALOT of them. Full list can be found here
Had a billion friends begging me to read this one and I finally did! The author is the definition of why authors don't always belong in fandom spaces and is a bit of a mess, but I did enjoy these books! The first one started off super slow and was clearly a set up novel, but they just got better and better as they went. I wasn't a huge fan of her writing in other books, but it worked super well for this series. Massively character driven series and so much fun. The magic system was amazing. The friendship between Blue and the boys was top tier. I cried and I laughed and I had a blast. Not a huge fan of the ending, which felt like a bit of a cop out to me, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment enough to not still give it 5 stars at the end. Lol
Spy x Family Manga (4 - 5 stars)
Content warnings for violence, gun violence
This one was recommended by my sister snd I fell in love so fast. Lol I also then watched the anime after. Very slice of life cuteness, mixed with spy and assassin shenanigans. Chaos incarnate and adorable. The trails of parenthood were hysterical, especially as a parent myself too. Lol although I'm not mixing parenthood with Spy work 😂
Icebreaker by A.L. Graziadei (4 stars)
Content warnings for alcohol, blood, depression, suicidal ideation, homophobia, drugs, racism, sport related violence, sexually explicit scenes
Sports Hockey Romance mlm and so cute and so good! What a great representation for living with bad depression too. MC going through so much, but his relationship with his sisters is amazing, his budding relationship on his team is so good. Rivals to Lovers trope that's perfection too! I loved it so much! Fast and easy and fun to read and enjoyable every second!
She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker Chan (5 stars)
Content warnings for Ableism, Amputation, Castration, Death, Dysphoria, Homophobia, Misgendering, Murder (child) , Sexually Explicit scenes, starvation, torture (non-graphic), violence
This was INTENSE. But so freaking good. Historical meets fantasy. Mulan vibes, but way more grown up and based in more history. And it's queer. Fun, thought provoking, intense, and so well written too.
The Lost Metal by Brandon Sanderson (5 stars)
Content warnings for death and violence
This is the 7th book in the series and every book in it is AMAZING. Released this year and wow what an epic conclusion. I laughed and I sobbed and I loved every second. Binged it in a day. These covers are so ugly lol but the stories are so good. So thought provoking. Fast paced but every freaking word counts. Engrossing and amazing story telling. The intricate plot contentions through the entire cosmere had me feeling a conspiracy theorist in the best way
Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (5 stars)
Content warnings for Misogyny & femicide, Rape mentioned, Physical & emotional abuse, Suicidal ideation, Alcoholism, Blood & gore depiction, Murder, Torture
This was so good!! So good! It could have used some more flushing out on the world building, magic system and character arcs, but overall I loved every second of it. It's giving me the morally Grey heroine and cast of characters I've always wanted. I loved that it set up with a fairly classic love triangle, but only to give us a bisexual polyship triangle! Badassery the whole way through too! Had me pretty consistently on the edge of my seat.
^the line to end love triangles with all efficiency lmfaoo had me rolling!
Happy New Year! For those who enjoy reading as much as I do too, I hope the new year brings you lots of new good books to read and enjoy!
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Hi I hope you are having a good day!
I know I am asking a lot, mostly spoilers, but can you please give me some context on Armand, his past with Lestat, his relationship with Louis, his future with Daniel(?) This character is so fascinating, I loved him here, even though he had very less to offer in the series, but he completely ate the last scene and left no crumbs.
I have only seen the movie, never read any of the books (just little here and there over the internet).
What happens to Louis and Lestat in the later books of the VC series, do they end up together? I know at one point Louis becomes Lestat's consort, when he is 'Prince' Lestat, right?
And what do you think, how season 2 will continue?
Hi Anon.
To make a long story concise: Armand was sold into slavery as a child in the late 1400s. He was bought by a guy named Marius de Romanus. (Yeah, the name of the person on one of the paintings Armand noted to Daniel in EP2.) Marius turns Armand into a vampire when Armand is 17 years old. A little while after his turning, Armand gets kidnapped by another vampire named Santino and basically indoctrinated into a cult known as the Children of Satan and, after some time, becomes the leader of the Paris part of the cult.
Enter Lestat. Who, as a fledging vampire, doesn't act how the cult thinks vampires should. Lestat basically gets them to change their perspective instead of killing him. Armand wants Lestat to become his companion and gets very bitter when Lestat rejects him. Which sets the basis for the antagonizing relationship they have.
One of my other answers asks on the subject of Armand covers the rest of your question here, so I'd just be repeating myself to write it all again regarding his relationship with Louis and Daniel.
I haven't finished reading the Prince Lestat trilogy (I'm only on the first book right now), but from what I understand, yes, the final book in the trilogy and the whole series - Blood Communion - ends with Louis and Lestat 100% together in a very "happily ever after" way, with a ballroom dance between them and everything.
Which, come to think of it? Haha, show, I just got what you did there as I was writing this, having the final episode of the first season include a ballroom dance between Louis and Lestat. Big foreshadowing; well done.
Anyway, my thoughts on Season 2 is that, of course, we're going to get the second half of the Interview with the Vampire book. But I think along with that, they will tie in Lestat's backstory from the book The Vampire Lestat. Or, at least, all the portions of that book that take place around Lestat's family ancestral home, as well as in Paris. The story's climax in IWTV happens in Paris, and Lestat's story will help set up what's going to go down there.
I also think we're going to get more insight into Daniel's missing memories and some flashbacks to what exactly happened during - and after - the first failed interview in 1973.
IMO Lestat and Armand's POVs will both be added into the show in S2, to go with Louis', Claudia's, and Daniel's that we got in S1.
#Armand#Loustat#Interview with the Vampire#Lestat de Lioncourt#Louis de Pointe du Lac#Daniel Molloy#Daniel Malloy#ask#ask and answer#amc iwtv#iwtv#spoilers#spoiler#iwtv spoilers#iwtv spoiler#book spoilers#iwtv speculation
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So I am of the people who really don't like the way that Abby's story was presented in the game and think it could've been done way better, so here are my thoughts on how the show could improve upon these things.
Just to be clear, I do like Abby, I think she's a well written character with clear and motivated goals, and I think she's very distinct from other characters.
That being said, I really hated her up until the end.
It took seeing how she refused to fight Ellie for the sake of Lev for it to finally click in my brain that "Oh wait, she's actually a good guy."
I like the game, I'm on my second playthrough of it right now, I think it's fun, I like the story and the characters and I like the development, but the pacing and writing is just not good sometimes.
I mostly have an issue with this for the Seattle portion of the game. Santa Barbara and the beginning were fine for me, but I really don't like the way they fit Abby's story into it.
It was really weird to see some girl kill almost everyone's favorite character, play as the daughter figure of that character, watch her hurt herself and other people in the process because she's so heartbroken, and then as soon as this girl shows up again go "No wait, it's actually okay because her dad died."
The zoo flashback, the scene between Marlene and Jerry, and Abby's reaction to Jerry's death made me sympathetic towards her. And then it cut to Joel's death again, and I was mad at her. All of my sympathy was gone, and she was back to being the person who killed my favorite character.
Abby's portion of Seattle was shittily placed at best and the entire time I played through it for the first time, I kept asking when I'd be able to go back to playing as Ellie.
So this is where the improvements I would make come in.
Like I've seen several other people say before, I would make the majority of season two the build up of what happens to Joel. As in, we don't see him die until the end of the season or near the end.
I would make it a dual POV of both Ellie and Abby and what happened after the events of season one (the birthday, patrol, and hospital flashbacks. I would also keep Owen and Abby's aquarium flashback purely to demonstrate how detached she is because of what happened). I, however, would not make it clear that Jerry was the surgeon that Joel killed and would instead save that for Joel's death scene itself.
The thing that made a lot of people dislike the second game is that we didn't know enough about Abby to like her when she was introduced, so I would have the second season take place years before Joel. I would use the extra time to build Abby's relationships, her fears, her wants, her motivations, and her overall character while doing the same with Ellie.
Now, for Joel's actual death scene, I think instead of just focusing on Ellie the whole time, there should be focus on Abby as well.
I think there should be a moment right before Abby makes the killing blow where we see that Jerry was the surgeon. That's where we see why she's doing this instead of after Ellie's part of Seattle.
I do think that the focus should return to Ellie as Abby kills him, though.
As for the Seth and Porch flashbacks, I think they should stay the same as they are in the game.
The porch flashback was arguably the most heartbreaking moment in the game for me, and I don't think it could be placed anywhere else to make it more impactful than it already is, and putting the Seth flashback anywhere else would feel a bit strange.
As for the gameplay portion of Seattle, I don't really care how they do it as long as it's coherent. The could do one episode dedicated to each person just alternating, they can do exactly the same as they did in the game and have Ellie's story first and then Abby's, I really don't care, my main concern is getting people to actually like Abby before she kills Joel.
#neil did not do a very good job of trying to make people like abby#like at all#and i mean i like her#but i could like her more#by yknow#establishing her before she murders a beloved character#the last of us#joel miller#hbo tlou#ellie williams#hbo the last of us#tlou#tlou2#the last of us part 2#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby tlou2#jerry anderson#jerry anderson tlou
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[after - almost six months, holy fuck - here's part two of my end-of-anniversary-crystal songfic about abe and azure journeying to the bottom of reality/excuse for a lot of expository flashbacks about my season 2 myth arc headcanons. part one, which contains most of the setup, is here. our song being ficced is still the ai girl and the deep heart sea; tonight we're on the first full section, 'reincarnated girl rho.' this... turned out much longer than i expected]
so if you did go diving into the depths of the substructure-sea, what would you find just below the surface? easy: the physical world
you might think we live in the physical world, but that's not entirely true. human bodies exist in the world of atoms and forces, but human minds, like the minds of anything sentient enough to dream, belong to the lower layers of the noos. that's the term for the blanket of ideas and memories and stories we sophonts collectively lay over bare reality, the landscape of thought that gives everything meaning. up here, a piece of stone could be the last remaining artifact of a lost civilisation, or a source of energy that could power a city for generations, or the mark of the one true king. down there, it's just a collection of molecules
still, as stark as it might look with the haze of imagination removed, the topmost portion of the substructure is pretty similar to the world we know. the stars spin and the elements flow and people and animals act just the same, though if you didn't know how our home layers work you'd never guess why. and even if you do, it's hard to impose the framework of narrative over them for very long without the support of the noos. down there, nothing could be or means or implies anything; it just is
which isn't to say travelling through it would be exactly like going for a walk in our home layers - it might, if you were going for a walk across it, but if you're going down through it things get very strange very quickly! the philosophers also say that time is a direction, much like up or forward, and they're fairly close to right. going through the topmost layers of the substructure feels like plunging through entire timelines, events thousands of miles and dozens of years apart all flashing past your eyes at once. it's like experiencing dozens of scenes from the same story all at once, all without any context to tie them together or any subtext to give them meaning. but if it's a story you played a part in, you might be able to follow along, just about
it's pretty easy to find yourself reflecting on it
sunlight zone
Azure, the girl who returned
down here, I can see everything
as we drift downwards, time and distance fall away, and all that ever was blurs together, like disconnected clips of an absurdly long video. it's as if in the final death throes of this tiny shell of a world, the strings holding its timeline together have snapped, and the whole arc of its short history has tumbled into my hands. I feel like I could see anything, anywhere, if only I knew how to sort through the heap. I can even catch a glimpse of its ever-fewer potential futures
the back of my right hand shines a familiar colour I still cannot name. Abe's hand in mine crackles with haze, purple and white chasing each other around his crumbling skin. beneath it, I can just about see the beginning of a vast, eternal structure
the further we descend, the closer everything draws to us. it's becoming hard to distinguish discrete events, everything running into everything else. soon, I realise, the only moments I'll be able to perceive at all are this world's approaching end, and its distant beginning
but I don't need to look to see all the parts that truly matter. ever since IT came, I've remembered everything I've ever witnessed in perfect clarity
IT was far too unstructured to be called an 'entity'
there was no one who understood what IT was or why IT had come into existence
so they called it 'Missingno' or 'the glitchhaze' or 'OLDEN'
some even called IT 'Altair' as if IT were a god
I did not witness ITs entire emergence, of course. the formation of the confluence called OLDEN began before my world was created, before his, perhaps even before the true reality all the worlds of the haze are mere shadows of. whatever ITs source, IT came to impinge on that reality, chewing it up, piece by piece, shredding order and logic and spacetime until only a formless haze of glitches remained. there was nothing anyone could do to stop IT. even the gods could just barely slow IT down
and yet, so I'm told, there was no malice in IT, not then. ITs bites at the edge of the universe were random, almost exploratory, as if IT didn't know what it was, or even what IT was. everything IT touched collapsed into haze, but that haze did not lash to corrupt everything it could reach or sink beneath the surface of reality to poison it from within. most often it disappated, and even when it lingered it reached out tentatively, inquisitively, even playfully. whether IT was curious or hungry or simply lacked enough of a mind to want anything at all, no one knew, but IT wasn't trying to destroy our universe in the beginning
but by the time IT came to my world, IT had changed. IT had learned how to hate
IT came to a world wracked by change and uncertainty
and shredded it apart with a brilliant vicious light
since no matter what all would someday return to the void
why not cut short this farce of a universe
and bring an end to ITs own suffering?
my world was nothing. a bubble within a bubble, a tiny simulation created as a last bastion from the corruption. but limited as I knew it was, insignificant as I knew it was, it was mine, and I fought hard to free it from those who would harm its people. I defeated each gym leader, I tore apart Team Rocket, I ascended the Indigo Plateau to claim the title of our world's first champion. ten settlements, twenty-five routes, a hundred and fifty-odd species of pokémon, and I stood above them all, the strongest trainer between the impassable mountains and the waters that trailed off into nothingness. I swore to protect them from whoever and whatever might seek to harm them
I was so young, then. so naïve. so arrogant. despite everything I had already learned, it never occured to me SOMETHING might come that I could not fight
IT came to my world at dawn. by the morning's end the ocean was a writhing mass of corrupted matter, advancing northwards in an unstoppable deluge. by mid-afternoon, the plains were choked with haze, towns and forests collapsing in on themselves faster anything could flee, faster than most could even notice. by nightfall, all that was left of my world was a mountaintop, and a temple, and me
I had begun the day determined to fight IT until the breath left my body, but by this point all I could do was sob. I had lost all my allies, all my pokémon, all my hopes as city after city fell and nothing we could think of so much as made IT flinch. they had relied on me to save what they could not, take revenge where they could not, and I had failed them all. despite everything I promised on the Vermillion dockside, I hadn't been able to protect anyone. all I had left was despair
I'm not sure why I had been allowed to escape. perhaps IT meant to save me for last
IT came slowly up the mountainside, chewing the horizon as if savouring each bite. I watched it from the empty doorway of the temple, unable to muster the energy to flee any further. for the first time, but not the last, I sat and waited for the end
then the space just in front of the doorway flickered, and Abe stepped through a crack in reality and out into the snow. we had known each other for some time now, he who designed my world, I who tracked him down and demanded to know why. I had seen him teleport across the world through his unknown doors many times before, but I was still somewhat surprised to see him alive. so quietly for a moment I didn't know if he heard it, I croaked out his name
he was just as shocked to see me here, I could tell by how quickly he spun around. his breath caught for a second, and he mouthed, "I'm sorry." then he turned to face the approaching chaos, and his shadow blossomed into an infinity of fractals
the beginning of the battle between the last of the fossil gods and IT was, I am told, like nothing ever seen by living eyes. unseen it remains, for I did not watch it. I moved further into the temple, behind enough walls it seemed unlikely I would be impaled by debris, and there I curled up and waited for the storm to pass. there was nothing I could do against IT I had not already tried a thousand times, and besides, what difference could a single powerless human make in a clash of the divine?
all around me, the earth, the walls, even the air shook. I could not even begin to interpret the sounds - the crackling, the tearing, the rattling - erupting from the temple's entrance, but soon enough I saw cracks drive through first the stonework and then the empty air. I knew my world was finally dying, and, despite my youth, despite my pride, despite my fear, I felt strangely relieved. a gash in spacetime snaked through the halls towards me, shedding glitches, leaking a brilliant, terrible light -
and from a direction I was not watching, something pierced the back of my right hand
I instinctively jerked my arm back towards me, but as soon as the impact sight came into view, I froze. there was no blood, no pain beyond the initial shock, not even a wound. there was only a sliver of dark orange stone barely larger than my fingernails burrowed into my skin, faintly humming. I had just enough time to take in the sight before the tear in the universe reached me and glitches overwhelmed everything
everything, that is, except me. the stone walls melted, the air collapsed, the world around me crumbled into a thick morass of swirling, chattering, ever-changing decay, but I remained just as I was. even when the haze lanced out at my body directly, the force I had seen rend through buildings and mountains and people alike in mere seconds slid off my skin like a passing rain. the space (if one were to call it that) around my head shifted rapidly between water and wood and viscera, but I could breathe more easily than I had in hours. through the flickering, crackling haze, for the first time I saw the back of my hand gleam
I did not know, then, that the miniscule stone shard tinting my skin an impossible colour was the last remaining fragment of an entity older than the gods. at the end of the battle I was sheltering in the temple from, IT aimed a dart of pure haze right at the core of the only fossil god still alive, the Dome. but for whatever reason such a being might do such a thing, the Old Amber leapt into its path. the impact made the packed-together rock at the heart of their being burst into a thousand infinitesimal pieces which flew off in all directions, shattering against the mountain or evaporating upon contact with the glitches. but somehow, through a series of coincidences and just-right circumstances, one shard slipped through it all and landed in me
was this planned by the Old Amber, or mere happenstance? I still don't know, and I doubt I ever will. but whether there was a purpose behind it or not, from that moment on the glitches could not touch me. a whole world could dissolve into haze around me, and I would keep my form, and my identity, and my memories. no matter how much time passed, no matter what happened, I remained myself
but all that I discovered later. then and there, curled up in that crumbling temple at the end of everything I'd ever known, I dazedly watched half a dozen tendrils of corruption pass through my body harmlessly before I realised I was not, in fact, dead. I reached out for one of the few remaining patches of wall and slowly got to my feet, and just when I'd found a stable footing my world finally snapped open and I tumbled head over heels into the glitchhaze. I fell for what seemed a thousand years through light and texture and shrieking, repetitive sound, and none of it so much as pulled my hair. the shock had faded from my mind enough I was beginning to wonder why
then my back slammed against solid ground. it knocked the breath out of my body, and when I inhaled I tasted air once again. the surface I was lying on was wet, spongy, and stable, at least as far as my arms could reach. when I pried my gummed-shut eyes open, the first thing I saw was a dazzlingly blue sky
it was a fairly typical early hazeworld fairly early on in its development. no tree was yet tall enough I could not step over it, the largest animals were barely bigger than mice, and the pokémon were still amorphous clouds of spirit, not coherent enough to create physical forms. even once it had fully matured, its sky never changed from that brilliant blue, and its dirt squished like jelly rather than crumbling. the worlds of the haze were only ever so real, and this one was even less so than mine had been
but in that moment, all that mattered was that it was
yet there was one whose existence ITs haze could never erase
I was "Vega", lodestar inviolate, she who saw everything
that grassy clearing caught in an eternal morning was not alone in the glitchhaze for long. as some consequence of its battle with IT, the Dome created handfuls, then dozens, then hundreds of these tiny worldlets, little pockets of order billowing in the haze. each new hazeworld was just a touch more real than the last - a sky that dimmed and brightened again, soil that could be broken up to plant whatever fruit you pleased, water that cycled from stream to lake to cloud and back; a little larger, a little more self-sufficient. soon they were detailed enough humans could live there, and they built settlements, then cities, then regions. and then, slowly, step by stumbling step, they began to reach out across the haze to each other
I had long mastered the art of travelling through the haze by then. Abe, who had also survived that last battle, had to travel between worldlets through broken warps and bizarre glitchmancy tricks, his unknown doors writ large, but I could simply walk off the edge of one world and stroll through the glitches to the next one. not that it was ever that simple, of course; navigating the endlessly shifting landscape of the glitchhaze was more art than science and more luck than either, and I seldom arrived in the precise world I was aiming for even when I didn't spend months lost in the wilds of the haze. but it was never dangerous, not for me. out of everyone in existence, I alone travelled the haze without fear
the people of the hazeworlds grew used to Abe and I passing through their regions. we both got into the habit of telling them stories; he of the worlds that lay past their borders and the ways they could be reached, I of the worlds that once were and how they had been destroyed. we taught them what the haze was and that there were others like them beyond it, and they taught themselves how to send things through it; first information, then objects, then living beings. soon the haze was home to a great alliance of worlds, interconnected by hazeships and databeams and a dozen kinds of interworld teleportation, fighting back the glitches wherever they could, always searching for a way to defeat IT forever. Abe and I they revered as gods, the ones who had shown them the nature of reality and bestowed upon them the power to change it. with our teachings, they so fervently believed, they would restore the universe
Abe helped them whenever and however he could, but I seldom did. I could never muster the will to do much more than pass on my stories, never shake the feeling that no matter what anyone did, reality had merely been granted a stay of execution. why, I still cannot say; perhaps my mind was as trapped in that moment of despair as my body, and just as my hair never grew no matter how many decades passed me by, my heart never lifted out of that black pit. or, perhaps, I simply never managed to overcome my grief. all I could bring myself to do was sit on the outside of that glorious dream and half-heartedly hope it would be fulfilled
alas, it was not to be. no matter what they tried, no matter how they struggled, in the end there was nothing we mere humans could do against ITs hate. one after another, the worlds of the alliance were overcome and fell, and the links they'd forged between them became vectors for the very corruption they'd been made to fight against. over the course of its long defeat, the alliance grew desperate and cruel, but even that was not enough, and once it finally broke the surviving worlds of the haze were left completely without protection. once upon a time a world was not considered stable unless it was completely free of glitches, but now even the most substantial were strewn with impossibly stretched landmarks and holes in reality that opened into infinity. even Abe, as immortal as I was but for somewhat different reasons, began to mutate, his form and his memories slipping away a fraction more every time he crossed the haze, until all that was left of him was a barely sentient heap of glitches, marked out from the rest of the corruption only by the occasional flash of purple
but I? I remained. no matter how many worlds crumbled around me, no matter how long I spent lost in the haze, my self was preserved. even in that final barely coherent, violently unstable, utterly corrupted mockery of a world, where no division existed between human and pokémon and language had degraded into loud, garbled noise and time had broken in a way impossible to put into words, I had not changed one bit since the day my world died. in my customary seclusion, I watched the strands that held together this final world quietly fray, and I wondered whether, once all existence had been devoured by IT, I would finally be permitted to cease
isolated as I always was, she nonetheless tracked me down. a girl with blue hair and red scales and a wide, fanged smile, whose eyes were tinged the faintest purple and whose voice carried a muted echo of thousands more. like so many residents of the haze before her, she and her allies had sketched out a wild, one-in-a-million scheme to restore the lost worlds and bring the battle to IT. I didn't believe they could do it - there? then? at the end of everything? - but for the very last time I gave them my stories. I told them everything I knew, fully expecting that it could never make a difference
some time after that (in a manner of speaking) the last world abruptly shattered. the slow rot that had been eating away at it since before time had broken suddenly surged, and pillars of pure corruption burst out of its husk of a sky. as the ground beneath my feet dissolved into glitches for the very last time, the shard in the back of my right hand vibrated so fast it became painful. through the haze and the light, I thought I saw my left hand begin to melt -
and I sat in the Champion's Chamber of the Indigo Plateau, on the same plastic folding chair my world's Lance had taken to calling my throne, so many long years before. the stitching on the jacket I had left dangling on it the day my world had ended pressed into my back
it took me so many long seconds to comprehend where I was. it took me several more to realise I could still move. my heart hammering, my body shaking, half-convinced that if I moved too quickly this dream would burst like a bubble, wholly expecting Koga to burst in at any moment and announce that something was eating the sea, I got to my feet. I took a few dazed steps, and my shoe tapped against something on the floor
I looked down, and I saw pokéballs
what can I say about what happened next? my charizard wrapped my tail around its body and held me close as I cried. his scales rustled, solid and alive, radiating a warmth that drove my grief to the edges of my soul for the first time in an eternity of loneliness. with every pokéball I opened, every old ally I reunited with, every step I took in a world like so many others I had passed through but in its details unmistakably mine, it receded a little further. how it came to pass, I suspect not even the gods could say, but the people of the last world of the glitchhaze had brought back the first. they had brought me home
the story of that reborn world is not one I am equipped to tell. as much as I tried to keep a grasp on events, from the moment we discovered there was a new land beyond the once-impassable western mountains I played at best a peripheral partin the saga of ITs final defeat. but I was once more part of it; so longer a silent, sobbing witness to a fate I could not change, but an active participant in an impossible, glorious miracle. I fought where I could, and I laughed when I could, and though my sorrow never entirely went away it became easy put it aside for a few moments and bask in the beauty of this dream-made-reality
and yet, as wonderful as it was, it was not perfect. there was one person missing. I scoured the world in my search for him, both the tiny region we had grown up in and the new lands blossoming into existence all around it, fully convinced he had to be out there, restored along with everything else. but I never found more than a shadow. there was one time… but that was not him. I have been told over and over again that my best friend still lies at the bottom of the Cinnabar Strait, as dead as this world once was, and will soon be again
but that cannot be. he was a host of the Voices, and even when all of reality was on the verge of being devoured by glitches, they were as immune to the corruption as I. somewhere, somehow, he must still exist, if not in body then in spirit, if not within this universe then without it. and though logically he could be anywhere in the infinite nothingness outside reality, I know - somewhere, I think I always have - where he is. for so long I thought him unreachable, but no longer
wait for me, Evan. I'm coming to save you
and as for THAT which declared everything I had l ever loved
and all we dreamed together no more than a useless charade
what would I say to IT?
…
come on
we've still a long road ahead
#twitch plays pokemon#mitzi fic#mitzi writing#azure#abe#old amber#and this remains not not about#olden#approaching four thousand words! i was not expecting the sections to get this long#i can't promise the next one will take less time to come out. it's almost certainly gonna be narrated by the voices#and they're always Fun to write#i decided azure talked like she'd swallowed a thesaurus very early on and had a lot of fun writing her#and i have decided who exposition guy is!#layer 2: the stream
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Hi! I actually read the new chapter on Saturday, but despite thinking on it for two days I just couldn’t come up with anything to comment on lol. I feel like this chapter was just a review that somehow transferred Mika and Yuu’s confusion to me. I thought original Mika’s soul was def in present Yuu but ig that’s still up for debate? And when it comes to the goal of resurrecting the angels, wouldn’t that also mean resurrecting some if not all humans since they were created with angel souls? Man this reincarnation stuff gets tricky. I did appreciate how it’s highlighting a focus on sacrifice/punishment and desire/obsession. Can these things be avoided? Should they be?
Anyways, I am curious to know what you thought and if you have any predictions on what the plan is. I feel like you have a better grasp on more characters and their motivations bc you read Cat16. Like when Mahiru was mentioned as a player I realized that I truly don’t know what she wants in the grand scheme of things.
P.s. I was having trouble with my asks going through, so I don’t think you got my follow-up to your response last month. Basically it boiled down to theorizing if the Yuu orb is sentient and whether og Mika’s soul was created by taking a part of the orb like it did to act as Mikaela. In which case, they’d share an original soul that is supposedly hidden from God
First, I’m going to address the PS and say sorry again I missed that message! That response is out so I’ll just let that speak for that portion of this ask. Now the rest of this.
Oh I completely understand. To be honest, I think this chapter was a big waste of space for the most part. I think your summation of this chapter just being review that made things more confusing is perfect. I’m incredibly disappointed and hoped we were past these kinds of chapters. ESPECIALLY since the last chapter ended with a flashback that is YET AGAIN going nowhere for the time being. Instilling intrigue into your story is fine, but to again and again taunt the audience with answers only to snatch those answers away time and time again gets irritating. You can only yank the audience around for so long before they determine that it’s not worth it. Sure we EVENTUALLY get the answers, but that doesn't change the fact that we're getting yanked around. That we're promised interesting bits of story only to have it ignored until Kagami decides it's relevant again.
It all felt pointless!! How do you, not but two chapters ago (last chapter even!!), straight up have one of the characters say “I am Mikaela” only to have him contradict that now? I get Yu isn’t supposed to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but we were told outright via flashback that Yu and Mika were supposed to trade names/roles in order to hide Mikaela’s intentions. Why would that suddenly not be the case now?? It IS confusing, but I feel like having Yu and Mika sit down and talk about it like they did here just made things worse in that regard? I’m not entirely sure what Kagami was hoping to accomplish here with that.
Now the angels vs humans resurrection thing? That at least felt like it had merit in being brought up. It IS confusing and I’m honestly not sure I would even know where to begin with that one. I think it, along with the “who is Mika and who is Yu” question, boils down to “what defines who a person is?” Is it the memories and experiences that they have or is it whatever the original form was? Does the fact that the current humans identify as humans and only have experience as humans make them human, so that’s how they should be revived, OR does the fact that they were originally angels mean that they’re angels and should be revived as such? It’s a deep philosophical question that I think could make for interesting debate. I’m sure everyone has slightly different opinions on it. I don’t think OnS will properly explore how interestingly deep that question truly is unfortunately, but I think it’s cool it’s present.
I too appreciate that the story is acknowledging this cycle of desire/obsession and sacrifice/punishment. I think it’s the heart of the story and one of the big draws of it. Maybe it’s getting a bit old since pretty much every character except maybe a couple fit in here, but it’s interesting. It HAS to stop somewhere and our protagonist being the one to stop it is just obviously how the story will go, and given that Yu and Mika are ALSO part of that cycle (even still I would say) it could make for an interesting dilemma. We’ll have to see if Yu (or Mika) is put into a situation where he has to let go of something to finally end the cycle or if they’ll be able to just push through and get everything they want without punishment, therefore ending the cycle (I feel this is more likely). It’ll be interesting to see how it plays out.
I have absolutely no idea what the plan will be. Team up with all parties and defeat God to ensure they can’t be punished? That’s the best shot in the dark I got. Could be completely wrong though. After all, even though Sika Madu and Guren have essentially the same goal, they're kinda wanting to revive people as two different things. It ties back to that philosophical question I brought up earlier. I would think this would cause them to have conflicting goals, but maybe it won't.
Yeah of all the characters, Mahiru has been the worst in terms of her character being explained here in the main story. Her ultimate goal is pretty simple I’d say? She doesn’t wanna be anyone’s pawn since she was essentially raised to be Sika Madu’s host or whatever. She wants to live her life how she wants to live it, to fall in love and be a simple girl. Don't you think were asking for all that though so sorry if you weren't. Thought I'd throw it out there though just in case.
Ultimately, this chapter disappointed me and while I did write a fair amount here, I don't know if there's really all that much to say about it? I'm not as mad as I think I might come off here. It's just, again, disappointment, which is a shame since I think there have been some good things in the previous chapters.
#Owari no Seraph#OnS 131#Owari no Seraph spoilers#OnS spoilers#Anonysis Asks#My posts#Sorry this took all day!
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