#i think the conversation he had about passing a test to get into the afterlife is also out of character

[shinestarhwaa]

The History teacher [PART 2] || Kang Yeosang

Read PART 1 here: The History teacher [PART 1]

Genre: Smut, a hint of fluff & angst

Pairing: Professor!Yeosang x fem reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags:  College!AU, Yeosang is Y/N's History professor, Y/N is 20 and Yeosang is 32 (aged up Yeosang), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, dom!reader and sub!Yeosang, degrading kink, dirty talk

ENJOY!

‘‘Sleep with me,’‘ Yeosang spoke.

You could barely gulp down your drink, nearly spitting it out. ‘’Sleep with you? Sir, I...’’ You couldn’t get out another word as you were shushed by his finger on your lips. Sleep with Kang Yeosang? It wasn’t as if you would hate it, you’d nearly die for this experience. But it felt wrong.

‘‘Please, Y/N,’‘ he sighed, ‘‘don’t say another word. Sleep with me, just tonight?’’ Tears filled his eyes, on the verge of rolling onto his cheeks. His head rested on your shoulder as he sighed from the pain of his heartbreak.

You hesitated, nearly agreeing, but Yeosang was nearly passing out on your shoulder. You sighed. It was for the best that you wouldn’t pursue this. He’s your professor after all.

You gestured Seonghwa to call a cab for him, paid for your drinks and left the bar, making your way back to the dorms. When you entered the place seemed quiet, making you sigh out of relief. Finally. Some sleep.

The next week you had mr. Kang’s class again. This time you could barely focus on his words. All you could think about were his words, his finger against your lips. Sleep with me. Did he really mean that? Or was that just a drunken thought?

‘’Beliefs in the divine and in the afterlife were ingrained in ancient Egyptian civilization from its inception; pharaonic rule was based on the divine right of kings,’’ Yeosang spoke, pointing at another one of his slides. ‘’The Egyptian pantheon was populated by gods who had supernatural powers and were called on for help or protection.’’

Gods, huh? You nearly saw Yeosang as a God. You’d sure get on your knees for him, that’s for sure. You weren’t religious of any kind, so why not devote your life to him? I need help, you thought.

‘‘All right, class, that was it for today. Don’t forget to pick up your graded essay’s, they’re right here on my desk,’‘ Yeosang stated as he took place on his chair.

You grabbed your belongings and got in line behind the rest of the students. You wondered if you did well on your essay, you were quite proud and pleased about your research on Egyptian mythology. 

‘‘Miss, Y/L/N, can you stay for a little longer? I’d like to talk to you about your essay.’‘ 

You felt your heart beating in your throat. You nodded and bowed to your fellow students, waiting near his desk until the very last one had left the room.

‘‘Look, Y/N, I... want to apologize for what I did and what I said that night, it was very... irresponsible and inappropriate of me,’‘ Yeosang kindly apologized. You saw his hand shake, which made you wonder if he was nervous. You had seen it before though, you realized, so it would probably not be the case.

‘‘Sir, really, I understand, you must feel terrible about your situation and you had a lot to drink, I don’t feel offended in any way,’‘ you quickly consoled him.  Yeosang sighed, feeling relieved by your kind words. 

‘‘I felt flattered actually,’‘ you softly spoke. You might have made a mistake with that, but you felt the need to test him a little. Yeosang froze, his breath hitching a little. A smirk played on your lips, seeing the immediate effect on your professor.

‘‘Anyway, sir, I’ll see you next week,’‘ you smiled kindly, leaving him behind in an empty classroom.

.

.

.

It was the next day, at the end of the afternoon and ever since your last conversation with mr. Kang he had been driving you crazy. All you could think about is pulling him by his tie and make him eat you out. You couldn’t remember ever feeling this horny over anyone before.

You found yourself by the door of his classroom, waiting until every student had left. Yeosang wanted to leave, but then saw your awaiting face. 

‘‘Does your offer still stand?’’

He swallowed thickly when you closed the door behind you, locking it. ‘’M-my offer? You mean...’’

You walked up to him and pushed him back in his chair. You straddled him and flipped your hair back as you unbuttoned a few buttons of your dress shirt. His cheeks turned pink and he visibly did not know where to look. 

‘‘Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know if this is the best-’‘ ‘‘You awakened something in me, baby, I need to have you inside me, fuck me, paint my inner walls, how does that sound, little professor?’‘

You could feel his pants tighten, growing a hard-on underneath you. Your skirt rode up your thighs, almost revealing your wet lacy panties. 

‘‘That sounds good, Y/N,’‘ he said, sighing, giving in to his urges. His hands ran over your thighs as he kissed you passionately. You grinned, immediately taking the lead in the heated kiss, showing him his place. 

You brought his hand up to your chest, making him open your blouse all the way and cup your breasts. As you grinded against his hard clothed cock, he slid his tongue in your mouth. You could feel yourself wetting his brown pantalon, that would definitely leave an embarrassing stain for him to deal with.

After a few minutes you broke off the kiss, pulling him towards you by his tie. ‘’Can you put that tongue to good use on my pussy, babyboy?’’ 

Yeosang nodded eagerly, lifting you on his desk as he got on his knees in front of you. You slipped your panties off, revealing your wet core for him. Yeosang held onto your thighs as he dove his face between your legs, placing kisses over your folds. 

You rested one of your feet on his shoulders, the heel of your shoe pricking his shoulder. You whined softly when he sucked on your clit, letting out a groan while tasting your sweet juices. 

‘‘Yes baby, lick my pussy, make it nice and loose for your cock hm? I’ll let you fuck me if you make me cum on your tongue,’‘ you panted as he worked his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

His tongue flicked your clit before plunging it into your yearning hole, making you whine out his name. He then added 2 fingers into your hole, curling them inside you and hitting all your favourite spots. 

You ran your hands through his hair, whining for more, moans of his name rolling off your tongue. ‘’Yeosang, yes baby, doing so good for me, hm? So naughty doing this with your favourite student, right baby? You like making me feel good on your desk?’’

Yeosang moaned against your pussy, nodding his head vigorously. He plunged three fingers into your core as he kept licking and sucking on your sensitive clit. ‘’I’m getting so, so close honey, yes, such a good boy for me,’’ you moaned out.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten before realising, climaxing on Yeosang’s fingers and tongue. He burried his face deep in your pussy, moaning when he felt your juices drip on his lips.

‘‘Such a good boy, aren’t you?’‘ you said after calming down, lifting his cum-stained chin up slightly. His brown eyes met yours, leaning into your palm, nodding gently.

‘‘Wanna fuck my tight pussy? Wanna release all your anger for that bitch that left you? Wanna fuck your favourite student’s tight pussy? Like a little pervert?’’

Yeosang nodded again, getting up and bending you over his desk, shoving up your skirt. The professor shoved down his pants and boxers, revealing his leaking length. He pushed his cock into your wetness, bottoming out before pushing in deep again.

‘‘Wanna fuck you so hard, Y/N, I wanna cum deep in your pussy,’‘ he groaned as he moved inside you. You gasped when your cold nipples who had slipped out of your bra hit the cold wood of the professor’s desk.

‘‘You’re so beautiful, like a goddess,’‘ he moaned. You smirked. ‘‘My essay lingers in your mind, hm, babyboy? Did you read it and then think of me? Played with your pathetic dick?’‘

‘‘Y-Yes, fuck, thought of fucking your tight pussy, painting it white,’‘ Yeosang moaned.

‘‘Go ahead, baby, cum inside me, make me yours,’’you moaned out, feeling yourself get closer to climaxing for the second time.

‘‘Y-yes, yes, gonna cum!’‘ he moaned loudly, probably a little louder than he should’ve. But right now he couldn’t care less about someone hearing or losing his job. He just wanted to submit to you in this moment.

After a few more thrusts, Yeosang moaned and spilled his seed inside you, making you cum once again with him. He rode out your orgasms and helped you get dressed properly again, without saying a word.

‘‘Same time next week, professor?’‘ you smiled cheekily.

‘‘Nine o’clock my place, I can’t wait that long for round 2.’‘

[magical-glimpse]

Hi I would also request a dream interpretation, if you have the time and energy. This one happened a few days ago. I had a dream that me and my family and best friends where visiting my mother in a hospice (this is based on what actually happened, my mom had cancer and unfortunately died last year in a hospice, but my best friend wasn't there). But her condition was much better than in reality and when we visited her in my dream, the hospice was testing out new inventions to somehow find a last minute cure. And she was talkative. While it was devastating seeing her like this, we still had a little chat I can't remember and left and me and my family assembled in the parking lot, as it was night already. Then all of a sudden a guy comes near us and asks us a question about the elevator in the dream hospice (the hospice in my dream wasn't the hospice from real life. The dream one resembles a hospital a lot more). I can't really remember what the question was but the answer was that he had to go to a room that was on like the 16th floor or something, very high. And then he got super pissed and started to yell. More to himself, but he eventually left muttering, with his friend I didn't notice was behind him, who kept mouthing apologies. We thought it was weird, but just left it at that.

When we got home I immediately went to my bedroom and kept thinking about my mom, who seemed a lot better due to the inventions of the hospice and I started to get a feeling of hope, that she might survive all of this and can come back home with us. But all of a sudden, I see something flying around my room and feel a sharp bite on my hand. At first, I thought it was a wasp and got scared but at a closer look, I realized that those were 3 lady bugs flying in like an infinity-shaped loop. I was trying to catch and either kill or release them, but then I had the urge to google something about lady bugs on my phone. (Irl, I'm super afraid of any sort of insect, even butterflies lmao.) And just pictures of lady bugs kept showing up but they looked very weird. They had antlers, like a deer and it was all just close up shots of their faces and insects look nasty. It startled me so bad, that I woke myself up lmao.

I have a hunch, that the part about my mom is about me not wanting to believe that she's gone forever, but I have no clue about the damn lady bugs lmao. But I have (in awakened state) accepted that she died and in our real life visit, we had a conversation, our goodbyes and how she's feeling. Given her situation, she was very positive about passing on and finally not being in pain anymore, so that was a very comforting fact for us, although we heavily mourned her loss.

I hope the dream is not too dark to do an interpretation on and if you don't feel up to do it, that's totally fine. Have a great day anyway and thank you for doing this <3

I am sorry about your mom anon...

For the lady bog part, orginally i was gonna go with the interpretatiin of faith and protection ( thry zre often called gods favorite insect in maky lnaguages) but your google thing interested me, and i found it was a sign of separation.If you have other relatives who died, then maybe three of them are looking after you even after you were separated.If you believe in the afterlife then it is a sign you will meet again and have more time together.Thr fzct the faces were pretty bad maybe means that the three relatives were sick, or that their passing was hard emotionally on you up close, but from fzr away (with time) you saw it was at the right time (ie you mourning your mom but knowing she wasnt in pain anymore).I think there is another possible interpretation but i cznt exzclty find it ?

[squijim]

i know i'm a clown and if he never comes back I'll make my peace with it in season 5 BUT

one of the biggest, most damning pieces of evidence for the wally-is-alive train is that whole interaction in the phantom zone.

if wally's dead why did he look the same as con, phantom girl, the zods, and the team, who are all alive? if he's dead then why didn't he show up in his regular colors like conner's other hallucinations?? I've heard people suggest that wally showed up in the negative filter because conner at the time believed he was dead, but he was already pretty convinced that he and phantom girl were alive by the time wally showed up

the lore we were told by the zods and by the legionnaires explains that the phantom zone acted as a prison. phantom girl explains to m'gann in "zenith and abyss" that the phantom zone is like a buffer between dimensions/space. the phantom zone is not an afterlife. it is not like zatanna's illusion. if you're dead, you don't automatically go to the phantom zone. everything we've seen with the phantom zone filters (again: conner, phantom girl, zods, the team, the monster) was ALIVE.

wally HIMSELF says that the place feels like purgatory, not a heaven or hell. and if he was just a product of conner's imagination, why didn't he behave in character like m'gann, clark, and lex? if wally was just a hallucination, he'd act more like dick's fever dream version of him, or gar's goggle hallucination. but he spoke directly about the phantom zone and used "we".

maybe the time stream, or the cosmic treadmill, or the mfd stuff, or lian's dolls, or wally never disappearing or getting disintegrated in gar's illusion, or the fact that zatanna couldn't locate wally's spirit, or even out-of-universe stuff like heromode posting about the speedforce in reference to him, and anything jason spisak has ever done in promoting this season of the show, are all red herrings and reaches

but you can pry "that wasn't zone sickness, that was actually wally" out of my colds hands bc him being a vision simply doesn't track with what we know about the phantom zone, about the people in it, and about wally

[alluringjae]

all i do is wait - kdy

All I Do Is Wait | So Close

⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.

⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader

⤑ word count: 22.7k

⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au,  slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)

⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)

⤑ playlist: fly away with me by nct 127 | all about you by taeyeon | doll by baekhyun and doyoung | give you my heart by iu | wait by exo | like a fool by nive and sam kim | falling by harry styles | lovers by anna of the north | fallingforyou by the 1975 | you are the sunshine of my life by stevie wonder

⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.

i cried so much in the process.

italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*

⤑ gif above not mine, ctto!  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.

As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.

He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.

And leave you behind.

But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.

1948

Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.

Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.

Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.

“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.

When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.

“Oh, sh-”

“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”

Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.

“Women are only meant to stay at home.”

“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.

Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.

“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.

Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.

As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.

“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”

This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.

Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”

Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”

You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”

Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.

Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.

As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.

Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.

“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.

“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”

Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.

“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.

“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.

As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.

Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”

As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.

“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”

Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.

Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.

“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

1950

Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.

“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”

You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.

“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.

The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.

“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.

“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.

“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”

The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.

The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.

That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.

Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.

If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.

“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.

As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.

You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.

Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.

So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.

However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”

“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”

Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.

“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”

“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.

“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.

“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”

“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.

“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.

“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.

Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.

Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.

Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.

“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.

“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.

The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.

If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.

Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.

You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.

“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.

It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.

“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.

“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.

“I love you too, Doyoung.”

Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.

Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.

1951

Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.

But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.

“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”

Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.

Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.

“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”

Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.

“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.

“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”

The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.

“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.

“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.

“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”

If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.

“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”

For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.

This was his last shot.

“Guide me, please.”

The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.

“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”

Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.

“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”

Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.

Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.

Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.

When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.

“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”

“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”

“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”

“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”

Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.

“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”

“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”

“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”

Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.

On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.

His last letters.

You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.

“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”

Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.

You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.

Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.

But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.

It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.

They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.

Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.

Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.

Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.

“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”

Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.

Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.

“Hyung, are you sure?”

“I just need to see her, Jeno.”

Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.

Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.

It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.

From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.

The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.

Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.

Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.

The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.

“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.

“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.

“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”

You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.

She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.

Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.

It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.

“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.

He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.

His newborn.

His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.

As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.

“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”

Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.

To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.

Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”

Kim Areum.

That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.

“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.

“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”

“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.

“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”

That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.

She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.

1954

Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.

With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.

Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.

These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.

“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.

“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”

“What are you implying?”

“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”

The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.

The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.

The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.

“Doyoung.”

He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.

None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.

Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.

Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.

“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”

There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.

“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.

“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.

Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.

“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.

“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”

“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”

“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”

“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.

“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”

Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.

To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.

The late 1950s-1960s

After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.

Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.

Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.

“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”

Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.

“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.

The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.

“Hyung, over there.”

Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.

She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.

“Areum.”

Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”

Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.

With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.

Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.

She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.

Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.

With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”

Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”

Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”

The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.

Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”

She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”

Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.

The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.

“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”

“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”

Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.

“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”

Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.

Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.

“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”

“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”

“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”

“But what about the deities?”

“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”

Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.

Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”

Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.

From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.

This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.

He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.

“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”

The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.

Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.

You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.

To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.

From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.

“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”

Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”

Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.

“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”

Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.

“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”

“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.

Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.

“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.

They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.

Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.

The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.

“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”

While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.

“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.

Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”

Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.

A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.

“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.

It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.

“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”

“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.

“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”

“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”

Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,

“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”

“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”

“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”

Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.

“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.

“Promise!”

Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.

“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.

Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”

Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.

This was his sign to bring her home.

He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.

“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.

“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.

“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”

Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.

“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”

Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”

He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?

The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.

When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.

“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”

“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.

Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.

“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”

This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”

She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”

He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.

“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”

When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”

A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.

Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.

Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.

The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.

Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.

The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.

Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.

Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.

Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.

Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?

Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.

“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”

He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”

You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.

“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.

Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.

No one will ever match up to him.

Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.

It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.

“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.

Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.

His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.

“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”

Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”

“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”

His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.

This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.

He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.

Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.

“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”

“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”

“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.

“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”

Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.

Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,

“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.

Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.

Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.

Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.

You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.

“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”

“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”

“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”

“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”

You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.

People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.

You just can never let him go.

“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.

“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.

You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”

“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”

1973

Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.

Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.

Like mother, like daughter.

He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.

This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.

“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”

Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”

“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”

“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”

“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”

“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.

“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.

There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”

“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.

“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.

As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.

“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”

Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.

Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.

“Are you an only child in your family?”

“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.

“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”

“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.

“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know?  Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”

Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”

“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”

Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.

“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”

Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”

“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.

Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.

“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.

“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.

“Wait, Areum!”

Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.

“Yes, tokki?”

Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.

“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”

Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.

It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.

“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.

A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.

Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.

“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”

Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.

Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.

“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”

“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.

“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”

1980s

It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.

This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.

Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.

Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.

“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”

“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”

The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.

Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.

Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.

It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.

“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.

And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.

You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.

Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.

Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.

Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.

She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.

It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.

Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.

He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.

It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.

“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.

“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.

“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”

So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”

Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.

“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”

Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.

“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”

Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”

“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”

She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”

“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”

The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.

Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.

“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”

Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.

“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”

Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.

“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.

“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.

“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”

“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”

“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”

“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.

“Yah, you take that back.”

“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.

Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.

“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”

How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.

“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”

Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.

He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.

Early 1990s

Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”

“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”

Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.

Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.

In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too.  They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.

“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”

“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”

“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”

Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.

It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.

Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.

It’s a good thing she did.

Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.

“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.

Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”

“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.

This was it.

Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.

“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”

“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”

You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.

“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”

She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.

“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”

“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”

The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.

“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”

Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”

Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”

The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.

“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.

“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”

“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”

“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”

Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.

“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”

Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.

“(Y/N)!”

It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.

And there he was, just along the hallway.

This was no longer a dream.

This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.

“Doyoung!”

You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.

When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.

You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.

It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.

As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.

With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.

But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.

This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.

“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”

As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.

“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”

He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.

“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”

An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.

Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.

“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.

“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”

“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.

“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”

“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”

After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.

“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”

That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.  

“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.

You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.

“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”

Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.

“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”

“Shit, Doyoung...”

“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.

He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.

“You are asking for it now, love.”

A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.

The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”

“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”

You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.

“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.

Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.

She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.

While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.

“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.

At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.

It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.

“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.

“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”

“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.

It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.

“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”

Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.

Her actual father was in this dream with her.

“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.

Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment

Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.

In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.

“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.

“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”

The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”

Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.

Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.

“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”

Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”

In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.

“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.

Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.

The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.

Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.

But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.

That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.

“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.

“Make sure you wait for me this time.” 

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense. 

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that. 

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later. 

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone). 

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways. 

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie! 

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway. 

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that. 

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality. 

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason. 

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough. 

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes. 

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away. 

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula??? 

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00. 

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

[fortunes-favor]

As if I Am Looking in a Mirror

Co-written with @nottthebest

Paring: Essek thelyss/Caleb Widogast 

Word Count: ~2.8k 

Rating: T Summary: Caleb Widogast and Essek Thelyss both have plans to facilitate spending their lives together. Yussa helps.

Read on Ao3

Caleb and Essek are together for years. And though time is his specialty, Essek finds it slipping through his grasp.

As the weeks and months go by, Essek starts to notice strands of grey hair among a sea of red. And then another. And another, until Caleb’s hair is a mess of orange and red and white and silver.

It hurts seeing Caleb get older when he stays much the same age, at least in appearance. While Caleb is far past middle-aged, Essek is still only barely halfway into his second century.

So one day, he makes up his mind. It comes to him as they sit and study together, Caleb leaning against Essek’s chest, with Essek’s fingers absentmindedly running through Caleb’s salted strands. Caleb’s reading a book, and Essek has his own, though he hasn’t been able to concentrate on it. His fingers come to a stop, catching Caleb’s attention. Caleb leans his head back to see Essek’s thousand-yard stare.

“What’s the matter, liebling? I know that look,” Caleb teases lightly, his voice more gravelly with age.

Essek smiles in return. “Lost in thought. My mind’s been drifting so much these days.”

“Where to?” Caleb puts down his book and shifts to get a better look at the man he loves, causing Perle, one of their three cats, to yowl in protest before jumping off of Caleb’s lap. Caleb mutters a soft apology at the white cat before turning back to look at Essek’s face.

“Oh, places. I wonder what our friends are up to.” He deflects.

If Caleb knew his real train of thought… Well, that conversation will happen later.

“I’ll be visiting Beauregard at the Soul tomorrow. I’ll give you a rundown on what she and Yasha are up to.”

And at that moment, an idea strikes Essek.

“Perhaps I will go pay a visit to Jester and Fjord then. I hear Veth could also use a hand with her summer camps. Maybe a day or two on the coast would be nice.”

Caleb places a quick gentle kiss on his temple. “That sounds lovely. Just, make sure to take your parasol. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Essek scoffs, unappreciative of the reminder of the sunburn incident, but gives Caleb a soft smile followed by a sweet kiss on his lips anyway.

The following day, Caleb packs his things and, with a kiss goodbye, teleports directly to the Cobalt Reserve.

Knowing now is his chance, Essek gathers his spellbook and some gem dust. He puts precisely hundred-and-twenty-seven pounds of clay in a vault of amber. And he teleports to Nicodranas.

Jester and the others receive a quick visit, just in case Caleb asks about it later. He’s sure Jester will have sent him a message the moment he walked out the door. But he has a mission for today. With an illusioned disguise—not of Dezran Thain, he never wants to be him again— he quickly makes his way to the monumental tower he knew a friend of a friend would be at. He only hopes he can convince the mage to help.

He greets the goblin servant at Tidepeak, introducing himself as Essek of the Mighty Nein. He says that he has a spell to share with the goblin’s master, one that he’s sure the mage will find fascinating. The goblin lets him in after some persuasion. Once inside, Essek drops the illusion.

“Um. One moment.” Wensforth politely gives a slight bow before scurrying up the stairs, leaving Essek in the foyer. After a few out-of-earshot comments are passed, Essek’s ears perk up.

“Essek Thelyss,” an amused sounding voice rings from somewhere above the entryway. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Come upstairs. Please.”

The mage looks different from when Essek last saw him, but the last time Essek saw him, his face was a void, and his soul was trapped by a living city, so it’s not surprising.

Now, Yussa Errenis sits with thinly-veiled interest on his very-much-there face. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a favour to ask of you.”

Yussa’s interested look turns to one of surprise. “And why would I do you a favour? Do you offer me anything in return?”

Essek grins. “I am a member of the Mighty Nein, as well as one of the people who helped save you from the Astral Sea. I’m sure we can work something out.”

He luckily convinces Yussa to perform the transmogrification ritual to turn him into a fifty-seven-year-old human. Same age as Caleb. Yussa doesn’t quite understand why he would give up the many centuries he has left to live, but it’s fascinating magic that Yussa hasn’t yet had the chance to test, and if the drow wants to be foolish, he’s not going to stop him.

An hour later, Essek is human, skin darker than Beauregard's but cooler in tone, and hair still snowy white. His facial structure is as similar as it can be without raising suspicion. He’s a little taller but not enough to make much of a difference. The wrinkles are new. His skin feeling too loose on his body is new. His ears are definitely going to take some getting used to, and he’s going to have to stop wearing some of his ear cuffs and caps, specifically ones meant to fit pointed elf ears.

At the end of it all, Essek is packing his belongings, still trying to get used to the new body. He is exhausted but also feels like he’s floating, content. He will be able to spend his life with Caleb.

He suddenly stands up straight. “One more thing.”

Yussa’s humoured sigh is not well hidden at all. “Yes, of course, I am at your service. what else?”

Essek hesitates for a moment. “Do not tell Caleb what we have done here today.”

That interested look from before returns to Yussa’s expression. “I hesitate to ask for clarification on that request.”

Essek gives him no clarity, and after a quick thanks, disappears in a show of teleportation magic.

Through the elation of practicing an advanced spell, a similar happiness comes with a thought.

He can grow old with Caleb now. Even if they have very little time left, their time is going to be spent together. And if there is an afterlife, one won’t have to wait long for the other to join him there.

*********

Not too long after, Yussa has yet another visitor. He’s fully expecting the drow––human?––to be back, regretting his decision and asking to work on a reversal of it, see if they can revert him back to an elf, without having to wait the one year. It surprises him to see, instead, a slightly nervous Caleb Widogast, shifting his weight lightly from one side to the other.

“What a coincidence, Mister Widogast. I was expecting-” He shakes his head faintly, remembering his promise. “Nevermind that. What can I do for you?”

Caleb looks skeptical for a second before his expression turns neutral. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

Deja vu is not something Yussa has experienced much in his 400 or so years of life, but then again, it's not often you befriend– no, become indebted to a group as unpredictable as the Mighty Nein.

“Of course.”

Further to Yussa’s surprise, Caleb is asking him much the same thing as his partner did. Except, Caleb is asking to be turned into an elf. Yussa doesn’t know why they wouldn’t have just done this in the first place, if the goal was to match the other’s life expectancy. Then it dawns on him.

He considers divulging Thelyss’ secret, but he did swear to him he wouldn’t tell Widogast about it. And the thought of them seeing each other's plans after they’ve been carried out is amusing, to say the very least. Plus, what’s the harm in watching the world burn just a little? He’s not beyond wasting someone else’s spell components to have a little fun, especially when that person is convinced that this is the thing to do. What’s another point of exhaustion compared to a good joke?

So he agrees. And the ritual begins and ends with expected success. Caleb’s silvering hair is now returned to its coppery brightness, the skin stretched more taught against his sharper, slimmer, ever so slightly more elegant features, his ears now pulled to fine points.

Oh, Yussa would very much enjoy seeing their reactions to each other’s new forms.

Yussa stifles laughter that’s building up at the thought. It really is too bad that both Thelyss and Widogast still wear the amulets that would keep him from Scrying on them. Oh, well, he will surely hear about it later, if not from the pair of knucklehead wizards then from their blue friend who is all too enthusiastic to Send to him.

He’s once again surprised that he’s looking forward to hearing from them.

*********

Essek returns to an empty home several hours later, having enjoyed the Nicodranas sun for the first time in his near-century-and-a-half for a while before returning. Faer, Perle and Fate filter into the room that houses their teleportation circle and all come to a confused halt upon seeing Essek. Essek is unsure of the reason for the change in behaviour for a moment before it hits him that he’s no longer in the body his cats are familiar with.

“Oh, it’s me,” he quickly says in Undercommon, kneeling down in front of the three cats with a hand reaching out to them. “I, ah, look––and smell I’m sure––a little different, but it’s me.”

Perle starts taking tentative steps toward Essek and cautiously sniffs his hand before gently nuzzling her head against Essek’s hand in a show of trust. Faer and Fate soon follow suit after being assured that Essek means them no harm, even if they don’t know it’s him.

Oh, gods, would they ever recognize him again? Would they think that Essek abandoned them if they never notice Essek’s human form to be the Essek that they know?

Essek shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts. Even if the cats never know it’s him, this will have been worth it to not have to live a life without Caleb at his side.

He feeds the cats before grabbing his book from the study and making his way to the bedroom. He trades his day clothing for his flowy pyjama pants, noting the slight difference in fit to his new, slightly less lithe body.

A while after he gets comfortable on the bed and starts reading, Faer jumps onto the bed and curls up at Essek’s side. Essek smiles softly to himself and lays a hand on Faer’s dark grey fur, petting him softly. Over the next couple of hours, while he reads, the other two cats join him on the bed. Perle making biscuits on Caleb’s pillow for a few minutes before settling on it, and Fate lies at the foot of the bed, almost at the very edge. Essek knows he will have to be careful not to kick him off the bed in the night.

Sleep takes him not long after he thinks; It seems there is hope for me with the cats after all.

*********

The next day, Essek hears Caleb come home before he sees him. Essek’s in the study, mulling over scenarios of how best to tell Caleb what he’s done when he hears his partner. Fate jumps off his spot on the desk next to the journal Essek’s jotting down ideas in, presumably to welcome Caleb home.

“I’m in the study, ussta che,” he calls out, standing up promptly. He dusts off imaginary lint from his leggings and wills his hands not to shake. “I, ah, have something to show you!”

“As do I,” Caleb says. Essek waits for rustling, the telltale noises of his wizard going through his bag in search of one thing or the other. It doesn’t come. Instead, Essek hears the approaching footfalls of Caleb.

When Caleb appears at the door, Essek is about to give Caleb a sheepish hello. However, he is shocked out of it the moment his eyes land on Caleb’s elven face. Caleb seems to be faring similarly as his mouth falls open in surprise and his long pointy elf ears twitch.

“Was..?” Caleb manages to get out weakly.

“It, ah, appears that we had a similar train of thought, chathtiu.”

Essek tentatively starts walking toward Caleb, never taking his eyes off the elf. Caleb Widogast is an elf.

“You’re human.”

“Oh,” Essek says, realizing the hilarity of the situation. He is a human now. And Caleb is an elf. Oh, gods. “Yes, I am,” he remembers to respond. “You’re an elf,” he adds immediately after.

“Is this one of your disguises?” There’s a trace of worry in his laugh.

“No.” He laughs in return, trying to ease the weird tension. “I paid our friend Yussa a visit. Something I assume you may have done as well?”

“Ja,” Caleb confirms and cradles his face with a smaller-than-Essek-is-used-to hand. “Schatz… You did this... You would have given your centuries away for me? You have such a long life to live.”

“No,” Essek says, wrapping his arms around Caleb’s neck. “Centuries without you would not have been living.”

“You didn’t think that I might also want to spend centuries with you?”

“I know you wouldn’t want to make your parents wait for you that long, Caleb. I also do not wish for you to have to watch the rest of the Nein die one after the other. I would never ask that of you.”

“I am offering, mein sternenlicht. You would need only accept,” He says, pressing a kiss at Essek’s temple.

“Caleb,” Essek protests softly and lets his eyes fall shut with a deep sigh.

“Unless that is, you find yourself not wanting to spend an elf’s lifespan with me,” Caleb amends, pulling back from Essek. Caleb doesn’t go too far, but Essek feels his warmth pull away anyway and snaps his eyes open.

“Caleb, you know I would stay with you through everything. But elves grow up knowing that they are going to be alive for hundreds and hundreds of years. Humans… You… I fear that you cannot fathom just how long those centuries are.” He runs a loving hand through his partner’s once-again-fully-copper hair and causes his hair tie to come undone, letting down strands as bright as the sun. “I do not want you to grow to regret your decision, chathtiu.”

“It’s good to know that you don’t have enough faith in me and our relationship that you would believe I might regret you if I am given more time,” Caleb teases, but Essek can still feel his hurt through the playful tone.

Essek rubs his temple and carefully chooses his next words to avoid any further miscommunication-related hurt. “Caleb, my love, that is not what I am implying. I trust in us enough to know that you will love me through the remainder of your days. I simply mean that I do not want you to regret this decision.” He gestures at Caleb’s elven body. “You will be the last of the Nein; even Caduceus will have a shorter life than us. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I do not want to see you go through that.”

Caleb’s face softens. “We,” he says.

Essek tilts his head in question.

“We would be the last of the Nein,” Caleb says, punctuating his words with a kiss on Essek’s lips. “Even still, I see your point, schatz. As much as I would love to spend centuries with you, I did not think about how lonely we both would be without our friends.”

“We could turn them into elves too,” Essek says, joking.

“That is a tempting idea.” Caleb smiles. “But maybe we could meet in the middle.”

“What did you have in mind?”

*********

About a year after he helped an elf become human and a human an elf, Yussa watches two half-elves walk towards the entrance of his tower, one with bright red hair and fair skin, the other with white hair and ashen brown skin. He tells Wensforth to go put some tea on and that he will greet their guests himself, before making his way down to the door.

“Mr. Widogast, Mr. Thelyss, I see you’ve worked something out.”

[hqmoonsun]

are you there? 🎧

genre: angst

pairing: kageyama x gn!reader

warnings: cussing, mention of death

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: once you turn 18, you receive a pair of wireless headphones, which you could use to communicate with your soulmate

“Happy Birthday!” your parents cheerfully greet as you blow the last candle on your cake.

“I’ve reached the magic number,” you smile to yourself, your pulse picking up at the thought of finally talking to your soulmate.

‘What are they like? How should I start the conversation? What if they haven’t turned 18 yet?’ are the three major questions that have lingered by your side since you turned 16. Today is the day that they are answered.

“Open it!” your older sister and her soulmate excitedly say in unison as your mom pushes a wrapped gift in front of you.

“Is this it?” you look up to your mom, who is nodding vigorously. She is just as excited as everyone else in the room.

You carefully tear the red wrapper around the gift, revealing a plain white box. Your pulse picks up again as you open the box, which contains a set of wireless headphones. Of course, they’re not the regular wireless ones that you already have. It’s specifically designed for you and your soulmate, so you could connect and communicate.

You excuse yourself from your family and make your way upstairs and into your room with the box at hand.

Before plugging it into your ears, you carefully examine the headphones to stall time. Yes, you can’t wait to meet your soulmate, but at the same time, you can’t help but also feel nervous.

“Well, here goes everything,” you deeply exhale before finally wearing the headphones.

Static.

“Huh?” you whine out loud, realizing you don’t know how this whole thing works. “Hello?” you test for a reply.

“Hi,” a rather deep, yet soft voice comes from the other end of the line.

“I think we’re soulmates,” you mumble.

“No shit,” they answer in a tone that you couldn’t tell whether they mean it in the nicest or meanest way possible. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for exactly 121 days,” they add on, their voice shifting into a sulky tone.

“Im sorry, it appears I was born 121 days later,” you giggle as you picture them pouting.

“I’m kageyama, what should I call you?”

“Call me y/n, Kageyama,” you could hear him gasp a little after saying his name.

“Hi, y/n,” he replies after regaining his composture.

“I thought you were exaggerating with the gasp, but wow, my name never sounded so beautiful,” you admit.

Seconds, minutes and hours pass by and the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other.

“Can I ask a question?” you ask since a particular question won’t stop bothering you.

“Go ahead, y/n,” there he goes again, your name leaving his lips.

“Where are you from? I wanna know our timezone differences,” you finally let the question escape its cage.

“Thats a secret, for now,” he cheekily answers, making you overthink of many possible ways you could reach him personally.

“Don’t tell me we’re like neighbors or something,” even though you already know who lives next door, you hope that it’s still a possibility.

“Maybe, or maybe not,” he teases, “You’ll find out soon, y/n,”

“Okay, Kageyama”

For the hours you’ve talked, the two of you had made the habit of saying each other’s name as a way to tease each other.

-a month later-

“How was your day?” Kageyama starts from the other end as you plop face down into your bed.

“Exhausting,” you groan, finally being able to let out how tired you are from practice.

“Im sorry, babe, I wish I could hold you,” he casually comforts, filling your stomach with butterflies.

‘BABE?!?!’ you panic in your head as it’s the first time he’s called you that.

“Me too, babe,” you try to say in the most casual way as possible to hide the fact that you’re extremely flustered right now.

“It’s our first month tomorrow!” you remember after quickly glancing at your calendar.

“Right,” Kageyama’s voice falters.

“Are you okay?” you quickly sit up as worry settles in after hearing his tone.

“Yeah, just sad we can’t see each other,” he confirms, but it sounds like a lie.

“If you’re ready to tell me where you’re from, we could arrange something,” you suggest, trying to lift up the mood.

The line goes silent for what seems like forever that you wondered if Kageyama unplugged his headphones.

“You there?” you ask in confusion.

“Sorry, my family has visitors, talk to you later,” he finally answers before abruptly taking off his headphones.

All you could hear now is the painfully, deafening static. It might just be nothing, but your gutis telling you something is wrong.

-a week after-

Later became next week.

Kageyama never plugged in that day and the day after that and the day after that and so on.

It’s been a week and every time you wake up, the first thing you do is check whether the static had gone away and Kageyama is waiting for you to explain his sudden disappearance.

‘Was it something I said? Am I being pushy about wanting to know where in the world he’s from? Can soulmates even break up?’ are the major questions that’s basically drilled into your head the moment you wake up and before you drift off to sleep.

You drag yourself out of your bed and to your desk, where your headphones lays. At this point, it’s more surprising if Kageyama greets you this time, instead of the static you’ve grown accustomed to after barely taking off your headphones for a week.

As you plug it in for the seventh day this week, your heart drops at the sound of stillness from the other end.

“Kageyama?” you ask, your voice shaking in shock.

“Y/n,” he starts before you cut him off.

“Where the fuck have you been? I was so worried, especially at how our last conversation ended,” your voice unintentionally raising itself out of frustration.

“I’m sorry,” is all he could blurt out.

“Please don’t disappear from me like that ever again,” a tear falls from your left eye.

“I can’t promise that,” his voice breaks mid-sentence.

“What do you mean?” now, you’re confused and worried. The gut feeling from last week is coming back and is stronger than ever.

“Y/n,” your name escapes his mouth again, but this time, he doesn’t mean it teasingly. This time, it’s filled with pain.

“Kageyama, what’s wrong?” your heart picks up and you don’t know what to feel.

“I,” he starts, “I dont exist anymore”.

“What does that even mean?” you let out a scoff, in hopes that he’s just playing with you.

“I mean, I’m gone, y/n,” he explains slowly, his voice now shaky.

“Dead?” you clarify, “I’m talking to my dead soulmate? Is that even possible?” you laugh, hoping that Kageyama laughs with you, but he remains silent.

Without plugging off your headphones, you dash out your bedroom and storm down the stairs.

“Mom!” you desperately shout, “Dad!”.

“What’s wrong?” the both of them rush to you, worry plastered on their faces.

“Is it possible that m-“ your voice breaks, “that my soulmate is dead?”

Your mom’s face softens while your dad straightens up. They exchange looks in silence.

“Please say no,” you plead as your eyes brim with tears “Please say no,” you repeat, desperate for the answer you want to hear.

“Im so sorry,” is the only thing that your mom says before she engulfs you in her arms.

You break away from her as you scream of sorrow. You dash back to your room and close the door shut. You stand behind the door, heavily sobbing to yourself. Feeling your legs getting weaker by the second, you surrender to the floor.

“Y/n, I’m so, so sorry,” Kageyama speaks again, his voice making it apparent that he’s crying too.

“You’re telling me,” you pause in between sobs, “that I’ll never get to hold you? Intertwine my hands with yours? Lock eyes with you?”

“I would do anything to be able to do that,” he replies sniffing.

“Where are you right now?” you ask, pulling your knees closer to you.

“I’m right here,” he says, “next to you, y/n” Kageyama reveals as he hugs you in the afterlife.

[kawaiijellymonster]

Okay so I have a kind of crazy idea/thought. As you may know, I have a complicated relationship with religion. I was raised christian, I hate it, I also hate that it’s so incorporated in my brain. My thoughts on religion have often been summed up as “it’s pretty much russian roulette, you pick a religion and maybe its the right one and hooray you get the afterlife you want, but more likely you pick the wrong one and you’re fucked” which is incredibly stressful for me so I pretty much threw it all out.

However, recently I had a conversation with a friend about the definition of and uses of religion because I had a co-worker say “you have to have something to pray to or it’ll drive you mad” and I read a fic that will come into play later, and I read a story here on tumblr that made me think about it some more. 

Put very very simply, I want to create a religion and I need help because my adhd brain won’t let me focus. 

So the first thing when you start any endeavor is to define what you’re doing. In this scenario I am trying to define religion. Now, a while ago my friend used to ask the science teachers at school “why” questions until he pissed them off enough they passed him to the next teacher, and finally the new ap environmental teacher said “Science can only answer cosmic ‘how’ questions, Religion is for answering cosmic ‘why’ questions” basically saying “no I can’t tell you why gravity works (bc that's religion), but I can tell you how”. So if I’m creating a definition religion it needs to have the capability of answering all cosmic why questions. 

Therefore: “Religion is a humans attempt to understand and explain life, existence, and purpose as well as put that understanding to work in their everyday life” 

Now you might be saying “but Christi! what does that second part have to do with answering cosmic why questions!?” and this is where I say it doesn’t but it is part of the why of religion. “Why do people participate in religion?” aside from the aforementioned me and my friend came up with a couple reasons people do religion which are:

To cope with events/thoughts

As a framework or guide for how to live life

To take responsibility for actions and thoughts away from the self

As someone to talk to

Establishment of a routine

 The third one is actually the one that references to a fic, basically a character got overwhelmed because finals and too much coffee and hearing too much and migraines, and then their significant other came home and guided character A into a kneeling position on the floor while person B sat on the couch with his thighs on either side of person A. This allowed person A to have this “I’m safe and protected and I don’t need to be on edge, anything that happens is no longer up to me” kind of thought process that I think we tend to also apply to religion. That idea of “if god wants me to do well on this test then I will” or “these bad/good things happened because god wanted them to” you can easily come up with more examples. 

The first, and the last two are in reference to this tumblr post not to talk too long but basically a small god has a tiny shrine, he doesn’t have much power but a farmer prays to him every day, and bad things happen and the little god can’t do anything to prevent it, and the farmer still prays because this little god means something to him, its a routine, its someone to talk to, and as his fields burn down and his family dies he has a dedication that he can use to cope. It’s kind of tragically beautiful and I 100% recommend you read that story btw. 

Now for like frameworks of how to live life I don’t really have all that many that my god will have but here are the few I do have:

Try to improve, never settle for the way you are now and always try to be kinder

Don’t tolerate ignorance or scorn when it causes damage

Never put yourself in a situation that makes you viscerally uncomfortable

Doing your best is good enough

Say no to drugs and alcohol (this is just a personal preference) 

Remain humble in all that you do, never expect to be the best 

However if someone treats you as though you know nothing, prove them wrong

If it makes you happy it’s worth it

But basically, I need help coming up with more of the nuts and bolts of who this god will be, what their name will be, other frameworky “how to live life” kinds of things, maybe some lore too. I really want it to be the kind of god that has a shrine simply because of the aesthetic. 

As a PSA it will be a god that supports all variants of LGBTQ+ and nerf’s TERFS because we don’t support that in this good non christian sapphic household. 

So yeah if you wanna help and be in my lil cult I guess this is gonna be, DM me with your snapchat and I can create like a groupchat or something (no I don’t have discord, don’t attack me), or send an ask with thoughts/suggestions on the subject to either @kawaiijellymonster or @girlsareverypretty (they’re both me). 

[czarojay]

LONG POST

Someone please stop me from writing the ghost tubbo idea i had a month ago to procrastinate on the dreamon au

Because like i had this AU and maybe if i write about it here it will stop me??? I can’t actually find the conversation on discord where i talked about it so i’m probably just gonna throw stuff here from memory and change half of it

Feel free to write a fanfic inspired by this, but 1. tag me 2. i’d appreciete if you credited the idea or at least said i inspired you ^^’

Ok so Tubbo died during the Festival. Like I don’t care if in this a Respawn!AU or Permadeath, irl or whatever. Tubbo doesn’t respawn and dies in Tommy’s arms. 

Assuming it’s a world with Respawn, Tommy just waits for Tubbo’s body to disintegrate or whatever the bodies in this AU do, as Techno massacrates people in the background, he just repeats to himself something along the lines of “C-come on Tubbo! Respawn already!”, but his friend stays limp in his arms, growing cold. 

In the end, they need to flee, like they did during the festival. Feel free to make Wilbur even more insane or evil whatever you prefer and make him leave the body saying either don’t take it, he’s a traitor, just like Eret or just it’s going to be a dead weight (ha, a pun!) (that was so inappropriate to the scene sorry ignore this), so they leave the body and it’s buried in the Manburg just like in the later Tommy’s stream where he zoomed onto the grave with a sign saying that here lies the traitor Tubbo. 

But you can also make Tommy carry his dead friend’s body all the way to Pogtopia, anger and grief clashing, still in the denial stage, hoping Tubbo will come back. Like Tubbo dies all the time! He’s just such a clingy, clumsy big man right? He will come back, right?! Tommy rests Tubbo somewhere in the Pogtopia on a makeshift bed hoping it will make the healing faster and as Techno and Wilbur talk ‘downstairs’ he realizes something. Tubbo isn’t coming back. He would be back by now normally. 

He’s shook to the core with the realization and shakingly goes down to Techno and Wilbur. The pit happens, but at the end, even after Techno’s speech about the language of violence, maybe Tommy snaps? Maybe Tommy yells how Tubbo isn’t coming back? Maybe the older men, practically brothers to Tommy, realise that Tubbo is nowhere to be seen? Maybe they realise the boy, the spy, the victim of the situation is dead? Maybe Niki stares and gasps in horror in the background and is the one who goes to Tommy first to comfort him and help him with the wounds from both the pit and the whole today? Maybe Wilbur stares in horror at his fists, realising he’s the one who put Tubbo in danger? He wanted Tubbo to do the speech, he made Tubbo run back and forth between the two leaders, maybe if he didn’t pressure Tubbo as much, Schlatt wouldn’t have noticed. Wilbur falls to the ground and sits with his head between the knees for a long time, wondering about what he did wrong. 

Technoblade?  He’s awkward and we all know it. He may be a god of PvP, the best farmer in Minecraft, but he’s still awkward. Of course he wants to comfort his little brother, but what can he really do? He’s at loss and still hasn’t fully accepted what he’s done. He killed Tubbo, but he had thought he’d respawn/survive(I really went at the beginning and said this can be also for permadeath au and then wrote it all about respawn au but whatcha gonna do huh). 

Overall the tension in Pogtopia is high, but to be fair, so is Manburg. People didn’t know about the execution and (you know what im just gonna keep going as if the respawn au was planned) the brush with death, even if they respawned, was never pleasant. It’s even worse when they somehow find out Tubbo didn’t respawn. Some people are happy with the fact, others are in shock and grief. 

And here can end chapter 1! Or at least it feels natural for me to cut off somewhere here! Idk really it all depends on your writing style. I'm not gonna dictate how you’re supposed to write idk myself neither. 

Assuming Tommy took the body with him, he later goes on to the only place where Tubbo found peace. Where Tubbo went during the war, the only place where he wasn’t bothered, where he was safe and truly free, without a leader or a dictator over him. Tommy went to Tubbo’s jungle base. 

He took the body with him, not letting anyone of Pogtopia know where he’s going, not wanting a Wilbur or a Technoblade, especially a Technoblade with him. He felt as though he needed to do this alone. He needed to make sure his friend, at least posthumously, gets the treatment he deserves. So he buried his best friend as he would bury a king. 

Tommy spends the night at the jungle base and awakes at night, by a greenish blue light. It’s not too strong, but it’s just enough to be felt. He rubs at his eyes, trying to awake himself, to see if he’s not seeing this, but there it is. A will-o-wisp floating in the middle of the building. Tommy gets up, picks up his sword and carefully maneuvers around the wooden beams with a collapsed floor, he gets to the centre. 

He gently cups his fingers and let’s the ember fall on his hands, but as soon as it touches them, there’s a bright flash and Tommy falls to the floor momentarily blinded. When he regains his sight he looks up and sees a ghost floating above him. Its back is turned to him, but he can tell it’s as confused as he is. But wait… He recognizes that shirt. It may be more bright and glowish, but… 

“TUBBO” he screams in the dead of the night, the nature suddenly quieting. The spirit turns around with phantom tears in their eyes “,Tommy?” they whisper and that was the moment both of them were sure of each other’s identity. 

Tommy rushes, tries to stand up and hug Tubbo, but he simply passes through the boy. 

As disheartening as that was, Tommy is still overjoyed to see Tubbo alive. Or at least here, as they soon agree that he is in fact dead. Feel free to put a flashback here, a new paragraph or whatever maybe a new chapter from tubbos perspective.

 The last thing Tubbo saw was a grim grin from Techno and a flash of blue and red fireworks. Here is a “how creative can you get” test! You can put somehow afterlife looks like, maybe something comes for Tubbo to go on, but he refuses? Maybe he sees nothing or everything is a blur? Maybe it was the last thing and the first thing he saw was Tommy’s crying face? Here is your free chappy for all the angst it can fit! Have fun go wild, turn on some sad music and let it ALL out! 

Tubbo and Tommy talk for long and Tommy tells Tubbo the fallout of his death and Tubbo tells Tommy what happened from his perspective. 

But here’s the funny thing, because I don’t know what you think, but… ghosts aren’t actually bound to places! They’re spirits they can go wherever they please! So Tubbo decided to stick around to Tommy. And as they travel and reach Pogtopia, they find out, Wilbur or Techno don’t see Tubbo. From a brief moment, where Tommy was sleeping and Tubbo broke away and went to see Manburg after the festival on his own eyes, he meets Schlatt and as he stops his breathing (he doesn’t need it, he’s dead, he just does it for comfort or out of habit), he’s scared, he think he’s noticed and waits for insults or a surprise or a sorry or a laugh, he feels something phase through him. Schlatt didn’t see him. Schlatt can’t see him. 

After a number of tests Tommy and Tubbo settle it. The leader can’t see the spirit. 

Niki can see him, it’s settled pretty much the day after Tommy came back, with a shout of fear and surprise and later happiness. 

Quackity can see him as it’s settled, when Tommy meets him in the forest and Quackity aside from being scared shitless by a teenager with netherite armour, he sees a disoriented, glitchy ghost behind the teenager, floating creepily, lighting up the forest around them in a sickly cyan light. 

Everyone can see Tubbo, but the people who caused his very death.

AND I’M DONE HERE. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. I CAN TRY TO THINK OF SOMETHING IF YOU ASK ME, BUT RN AS I’M WRITING THIS DOWN I DON’T KNOW. 

Reminder, if you want to write this plz credit the idea <3 Also holy shit this hit 1831 words how.

[iamtheprotagoneil]

it's late, and i'm on my phone so most of this probably won't make sense but i'm thinking about how neil could have been a rogue agent, before he was recruited into tenet.

thinking about what an insubordinate little shit he could be, how it drove his superiors insane, with all the wild ideas he thought of to get through a mission. despite that, they still allowed him more leniency than they cared to admit, because as erratic as he was, he still fucking delivered some pretty darn good results.

thinking about how neil always had this certain flair to him, an affinity for the dramatics (despite what he'd said in the film). he'd always try to cause a scene (as diversion, of course), make it loud and banging so no one would look where he was. it was effective, sure, but the clean up would always give his superiors a headache.

thinking about, at some point, push would come to shove, and neil's agency decided that they just couldn't accept his antics anymore. "enough is enough," as they'd exclaim in their secret meeting or whatever, before sending an in-house assassin to neil's flat. they only realized what mistake they'd made, when news came next morning, stating that the body they recovered was not of neil's own.

thinking about how neil got smart after that, learning to contain himself as he went underground. he didn't hold a grudge; there was no point, really. it hurt, sure, to know that the organization he'd poured his heart and soul into serving had abandoned him so coldly, but he understood why they did it. so as they'd turned their back on him, he did the same, going in search for excitement elsewhere. because you better believe that as much as he wanted to do good, the adrenaline rush from it all was what *truly* kept him going.

thinking about how he stumbled onto tenet by sheer coincidence, having been in the right place at the right time when the chatter occered. his intention was set. he couldn't let it go, couldn't get this super secret agency that seemingly operated out of the usual time-space continuum out of his mind, because there was just so many questions, so many things left unanswered, and neil just simply couldn't sit idly on an unsolved mystery.

thinking about how neil's obsession ultimately lead nowhere, how he got so frustrated over the trails that kept getting colder and colder, loose ends getting tied up quicker than neil could ever reach or catch tails of. but despite that, neil just wouldn't give in.

thinking about how his determination paid off, or perhaps the universe just ran its course to ensure the plot it'd written out would progress. neil, once again, found himself in the right place, at the right time, and tenet was just right in sight. literally.

thinking about how neil broke in to learn more about them. he got through the front gate, through the back door into the building with a stolen badge. he managed to catch sight of very strange occurrences, for example, a gun being lift up from the ground by, seemingly, magic. but well, neil didn't believe in magic, quite the opposite, in fact. he was enthralled by it, head swirling with theories and explanations on how this could have worked. he was so focused that he didn't hear or see the person stepping up to him, not until that person spoke up from right besides him.

thinking about how neil startled out of his science-induced daze, turning to face the stranger, getting himself in a fight stance, hand ready on the gun strapped to his hip. but well, the stranger didn't look like he was going to do anything to neil. in fact, he was only looking back, an inexplicable glint in his eyes as he gazed up at neil, too meaningful yet neil could catch none of it. he could only stare back at the stranger, gauging his reaction, his expression, his everything but coming up entirely empty. it gave him a sense of deja vu, of how he'd felt about tenet during the months searching for answers.

thinking about how the protagonist (if you haven't guessed already) smiling in consolation, assuring neil that he meant the other no harm. in fact, he only wanted to talk. neil complied, but keeping his guard up still.

thinking about how the protagonist started talking about tenet and all that came with it. this was ass-backward to the policy of tenet, of course. they didn't talk about what tenet was before they recruited the agent, it was vice versa. but well, neil was already recruited wasn't he? neil didn't know it yet, but he was, and not right when he thought.

thinking about how neil took a look at this stranger, who'd definitely read up on neil before this conversation, and saw not judgement, not one bit of malicious intentiond, but only understanding. neil liked to think that he was a good judge of character so he interrupted the stranger's explanation about inversion with an emphatic, "yes."

thinking about: "yes... what?" / "yes, i'd work for you." / "i don't remember asking." / "no, but you wanted to. 'else you wouldn't have told me so much about this- all of this."

thinking about how the protagonist wouldn't be able - didn't bother to - hide an impressed grin from his face. he was just so enticed by how intelligent neil was, how excited neil was acting over all of this. he couldn't help but compare this neil to the one he kept in his memories. the similarities were all there, but at the same time, still so different. it was hard for the protagonist not to wonder about how, or when, this neil would grow into the one the protagonist would meet later in the past. another version of himself, that is.

thinking about how eventually, the protagonist pushed all of his own excitement - about working with neil, about fullfilling the prophercy neil'd given him about their friendship, about the things they would get up to - down. neil still needed to pass the test, first, despite the protagonist already knowing the result. he still couldn't have people looking at neil and called favoritism (there would be none; they were both too good of agents for that). besides he didn't think any other agents would be able to trust neil if he didn't have to go through the same torture they did.

thinking about how the protagonist only hummed thoughtfully at neil's answer, before saying, "okay." they got neil settled, although keeping him at arm length from all the missions he wanted to go on. at one point, neil snapped, couldn't stand the monotomy of lessons about physics (which he already knew about) and theories rather practicing such things for himself.

thinking about how he confronted the protagonist about it, stopping the man on his way to the mess hall and demanded to be put on active duty. he explained about the field experience he's already got as an ex-mi6, all the expertise he possessed, things he was certain the protagonist must have already known from reading neil's file.

thinking about: “is it because i went rogue? because it wasn’t my fault, you know? they decided that i was too *difficult* and apparently not worth the effort of containing so, well...”

thinking about neil ending his words dejectedly, eyes shifting to the ground as memories of being pushed out by his agency came back to haunt him. the protagonist saw it on his face, expression shifting from bemusement to something akin to worry, as a fire burned bright in his chest, urging him to find the people who’d brought this look to neil’s face and made them *pay*.

thinking about how the protagonist snapped neil out of it with a gentle hand on neil’s shoulder, how the protagonist sighed and gave in to it, deciding that it was time he stopped delaying the inevitable. he didn’t comment on neil’s rant, bypassing it as there was no point to talk about the past. he knew who neil was, what he would become, so what he had been to another agency did not at all matter.

thinking about how the protagonist assigned neil to a mission that was sure to end in disaster. the lives sacrificed in it were as necessary as it was tragic. they were doing it for the better good, years from now on, then years into the past. they didn't know it though, thinking of it as nothing more than a usual infiltrate and retrieve mission.

thinking about how went things turned bad, it went *real* bad. all team members were caught an tortured although none talked, not even neil. we already knew how this part would go so there was no need to be lengthy about it. neil 'killed' himself with a pill provided to all agents for moments just like this. what he didn't know that his own pill was swapped right before the mission started, when the protagonist came down personally to wish them good luck. as if he didn't know already that it wasn't what they needed, that only a few of them would get out of there alive with the help of an extract team after the fact.

thinking about how neil would wake up from his drug-induced coma, and met with a blurry image of the protagonist, welcoming him to the afterlife.

thinkin about: "why didn't you talk? you barely knew us. why even bothered protecting us instead of saving yourself?" / "you've read my files already, boss, so you should know that that's just not the kind of person i am."

thinking about how the protagonist would feel so utterly speechless at that - not at neil's words specifically, but at the way he said it. he decided right then that neil had been right all along, that his prophecy would definitely come through. in the protagonist's mind's eyes, he could already see the fun they would have together, the journey they would take together, and the friendship that would so easily form between them.

[yeoldemothmemes]

Lenore Sentence starters 1

Just her Poe party lines for this one. Content warnings: Blood, death, murder, alcohol Also Lenore being savage with her wit Feel free to change pronouns etc

“You invited these people” “You’d be really pretty if you did your hair differently, maybe wore a different outfit and just tried something else” “What is everyone’s deal?” “I thought I was the dead one here” “Right in the soup” “The soup is just for eating” “How dare you” “The soup is a red herring” “An actual red herring with a red pepper garlic sauce” “I have to concentrate really hard in order to hold anything” “I can’t even teleport until I’m like 100 ghost years old” “It’s Ghost 101″ “This sort of thing is all I go corporeal for” “Good thing stripes are in because you are going to jail” “_____, would never accessorize in that colour with her complexion” “Hella motive” “We gotta take notes” “I’d feel threatened if I wasn’t already dead” “I don’t follow” “I mean this in the nicest way possible. But that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard” “I’m a pretty good judge of character” “I thought it was because she wore that dress” “What does ____ stand for? “Is that why you got into inventing things?“ “My mother told me I came out of the womb crying, and wouldn’t stop until someone wrapped me in an organza swaddle” “I’m not old though, I literally just died not that long ago” “It was my wedding day, I was getting married to the love of my life, ______” “Love of my life that week” “It’s such bad luck to see the bride before the wedding” “I think I ate a bad batch of ribs at the bachelorette party” “At least this dress is fab” “Mystery Illness. happens all the time. Even to us hot people” “I guess I owe them my afterlife” “Will you now hire a cleaner?” “This blood is never going to come out of the carpet” “He only works with ectoplasm” “I can’t even with you” “Her only crime was being totally basic” “Is the good professor suggesting we have a seance?” “She’s the one who summoned me” “So good with dead people” “When someone summons me and asks for a sign I show up and I’m like ‘_____’“ “When someone summons me and asks for a sign I show up and I’m like ‘Here’s your sign, it says this way to the salon - when was the last time you had your eyebrows done” “My fiance, Dear ______, he was bae” “You don’t even have a phone number” “_____ing isn’t a word” “Seancing isn’t a word” “Whatevs, grim reaper. You’d die of loneliness without me anyway” “There are a lot of wires so I’d say that’s promising” “We can’t be behind every camera at once” “Is it just one filter?“ “What’s your real name?“ “That’s a terrible name” “Idiots, all around me” “What has my afterlife become?” “You’re putting this on me?” “I am not the killer, what would my motive even be?” “Why would I kill the only person here I could even put up with” “A ghost on a murderous rampage” “Are you even listening to yourself” “You sound cray” “I didn’t make the invite list” “You do not understand how much my roomie loved them” “What the actual heck is wrong with you?” “You have a gun?” “You were always away, _____ missed you so much” “Are you trying to kill people I care about” “You are overestimating how much I care about people”  “Sweetie, I always thought you were stupid” “You should have really had a bit more sense, and/or sensibility” “Friends is the word you’re looking for” “That’s not how you haunt” “You were born to be a ghost” “Ready? This is how you haunt someone” “I think that happens eventually” “I don’t hang out with old ghosts” “I have the time of my life” “I get to wear this dress forever” “I can read all the time - Hella literate” “I don’t know what you are talking about” “I haven’t read their entire body of work in the time since their tragic demise” “This conversation was passing the Bechdel test until now” “You’re a time traveling ghost?” “I live in a house full of nerds”

[calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt]

Hiraeth (Pt. 3)

(a/n: I've decided that im going to start posting new parts on my wattpad a few days before I post here as a sort of early access sort of thing… please consider checking it out!)

"Movie night?" You were sipping another iced coffee, this one of your keurig's creation. In front of you stood four girls trying to worm their way into your room.

"Really more of a girl's movie night." Sierra smiled, looking innocent. At least, as innocent as she could be. "Besides, we have nail polish. And face masks!"

You knew better than to argue so instead, you just sighed and moved out of the doorway, allowing them entrance into your room. God help you if you got caught having a sleepover on a school night, especially with students from another house.

When it came time for you to pick a movie, a wave of nostalgia overtook you, and you found yourself selecting The Princess Bride.

"OMG. I loved this movie when I was a kid." Sierra currently had on a sheet mask that made her look like a panda bear and was painting Kaykay's nails a bright shade of bubblegum pink.

"Me, too. I always wanted to find someone like Wesley." Kaykay sighed into her chocolate bar. You kept a stash on hand for kids who were feeling down, but let the girls raid it. Just this once.

"I forgot how dumb Buttercup was. She contributes nothing but problems to the entire movie." Kaykay's comment mirrored your own thoughts on the princess, not that you had expected her to have seen The Princess Bride before.

"Yeah, Buttercup definitely does not pass the Bechdel test." Crystal was admiring Sierra's handiwork on her own nails, hers a shade of bright blue.

You scoffed. "Are you kidding me? Buttercup invented the Bechdel test. A sexy lamp could have contributed more to the plot line than she did."

The girls laughed, each of them still watching Buttercup crying over Wesley despite the teasing.

"Damn. I wonder if there are any Wesleys around here." It was Sierra who first brought it up. The boy talk. It happened at every sleepover. You were expecting it, but that didn't mean that you were prepared for it.

"I don't know. Maybe." Crystal said. "I'll tell you who's not a Wesley, though. Ashton. That man is the biggest player I've ever met."

"Um, have you met Michael Clifford?" Kaykay gave Crystal the side eye, as if she was offended on Michael's behalf.

"Not only have I met him, but I've had to watch him flex during chapel." Sierra shuddered. "It's terrifying."

"I dread the day Luke becomes interested in girls." You gave a low chuckle. "He's still in the "girls have cooties" stage right now."

"Literally the only guy who I could even remotely see in a relationship aside from Ashton is Hood." Kaykay looked at you the entire time she talked. Which meant she definitely saw you blush at the thought of Hood in a relationship.

Sierra grinned, but she didn't push you. All she needed was that blush. Girls' night was super fun, and she was gonna force all of you to do this more often, but Sierra would be a liar if she said there were no ulterior motives for said girls' night. This was icing on the cake.

She and Kaykay met eyes, sharing small smiles. There was still much work to be done, but they were off to a great start.

Hood was starstruck by you, that much was clear to Sierra.

The stoic man the group once thought they knew had been reduced basically to a puppy. He 'escorted' you to and from all your classes, sat next you at all the meals, chatted you up over coffee on weekends. He even smiled and laughed at pretty much everything you said.

Sierra hadn't even known that Hood was capable of getting above a smirk on the smiling scale. Judging from the blush that had spread across your face, you were feeling much of the same. Although, you did seem to be better at hiding it that Hood, who froze every time he saw you. Without fail. Every. Single. Time.

Sierra had known from the very beginning what a great match you two were for each other, but even she couldn't have predicted this mess of emotions. You two were into each other, that was obvious. Now she just had to trick you into making it obvious to each other.

...

"I'm dying." Sierra banged her head down onto the table dramatically, sighing loudly. She raised her head ever so slightly to see if you was paying attention to her, and sighed louder when she realized you were not.

"Well, maybe you could be considerate and be a bit more quiet as you ease into the cold embrace of death?" You didn't look up from your book, trying to find that one specific bit about cellular mitosis in your textbook. Biology was a bitch for you, and the moaning coming from your study buddy didn't make things easier.

"Ughhhhh." Great, more moaning. Sierra was going to be the death of you, dragging you into the afterlife with her. You slammed the book shut, reached into your wallet and threw a twenty at her, watching as it dejectedly fluttered to a stop next to her arm.

"Go get us coffee, then. Take a break." You reopened the book, not even bothering to make sure she left. The upcoming test was stressing you out, and you really hadn't planned on taking multiple children under your wing when thinking about studying hours.

"Hey." God, what now?  Or, more accurately, who now? It was always someone doing something with this group, and you were exhausted right now. You didn't think you could handle another crisis.

"What?" You closed your book with a whack, the word coming out like canine teeth in a fight.

When you looked up, it was just in time to see Calum hiding a flinch. You mentally sighed, regretting your words.

"Um, I was just gonna ask if you were okay?" Calum's hand came up to scratch the back of his head, the other holding his backpack on his shoulder. He looked a bit sick, almost as if he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Not really." The words were thinly veiled with impatience. You were barely halfway through the first unit and there were still two more to go after this, and that was only for biology.

"Oh, um, anything I can do to help?" Calum swallowed thickly. He should have never come over here. He knew you didn't like him, were only tolerating him for the rest of the group. God, he wanted to run. Just as fast as his legs could take him away from here. How could he be dumb enough to think you liked him?

"Yeah, peace and quiet." You didn't even get the word 'peace' out before Calum mumbled out a 'bye' and walk-sprinted away from you, straight out of the library.

It was weird, but it was also a bit too late to track him down and force his feelings out of him now.

...

One foot, then the other. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Hood kept repeating the mantra over and over, synchronizing his arms and legs to mold the air around him. He cut through it, gliding and fighting, gasping as he rounded the corner of the field once again. The air didn't stay in his lungs long enough, making them burn, and cramping his sides. But he could still replay the conversation with you in his head in perfect detail, so he kept running. He'd stay out here all night if he had to.

Because after running, he could always practice shooting. And then dribbling. And then whatever came to his mind next.

When you had said peace and quiet... you had sounded exactly like...

Hood shook his head, sprinting the next lap to push that thought away. You had been funny and kind, that night in the library closet. Just truth and idiocy, drunk on exhaustion. Then that night in the car. When it was just you and him and the stars. You had laughed, and teased, and sang softly to every song on the radio. It was honest. He thought you were a good person.

So why had you tricked him into believing you liked him?

Suddenly, the stitch in his side turned into a heart attack. The shortness of breath from running became air escaping his lungs and never coming back. He footsteps slowed, his feet muddling together until one of them caught on the other and sent him stumbling to to ground. He couldn't even see the grass to catch himself. His vision had gone kaleidoscopic, all darkness and spots.

This was it. He was about to die.

He couldn't get air in, couldn't stop shaking enough to get to his bag and text someone. They'd find his body in the morning, probably. Here, drenched in sweat and bile.

"Hey, Calum!" You had noticed Calum running laps earlier as you walked back to the dorms from the library. Things had ended weird with the two of you earlier, and you wanted a chance to, if not fix it, at least figure out what was going on. You assumed he was still peeved, though. Even after calling his named again, he still hadn't looked up.

"Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. I know I said peace and quiet to you, but I was hardcore projecting Sierra's chattery-ness onto you." You plopped down next to him slipping off your sandals and beginning to lace up your cleats. Calum still didn't look up.

"Hey." You nudged his shoulder, only to have your hand come away drenched in sweat. Weird. You looked at the boy sitting next to you a bit closer, noting him sort of shivering, even though he was burning up, and the way he wasn't quite breathing, but ... panting. Shit. "Calum. Hey. Look at me."

Realization hit you like a truck. He wasn't mad or ignoring you. He was having a panic attack. You scooted closer to him, gently cupping his cheeks in you hands and bringing his face up to meet your eyes. They darted around wildly for a moment before zeroing in on yours.

"Cal. You are okay. I need you to breathe for me, okay bud?" These sort of situations... they weren't new to you. It hurt you to be able to say that, but you were grateful for it at least for right now. "Come. Focus."

The first thing he felt was cold. Cold hands, right on his face. They felt nice on his feverish skin. The hands brought his head up, moving his head for him, since his neck was incapable. Everywhere was too bright, the was too much to take in. But your eyes... he could focus on your eyes. Slowly, painfully, you got him to breathe. In four, hold seven, out eight. Hood knew the exercises. He pretty much wrote the book on them. But they were so much easier when they came from you. Hood watched as the sun set behind you, escaping in a way Hood only wished he could.

...

"Hey Luke, wait up!" You jogged along the covered pathway, trying to catch up to your favorite child-genius. Luke was lost in his own little world. He was reading and walking again, which you and Crystal had both told him not to do anymore. He was doing it anyway.

Which, of course, meant that Luke didn't see him until it was too late.

Torrin. God, you hated that asshole. He had been giving Luke crap the entire time you had known him and probably before that, as well. So, when you saw Torrin hone his attention in on Luke, you dropped your crap right there and kicked your jog up to a sprint.

You got there a split second too late to stop Torrin from slapping Luke's book out of his hands. That was about as far as you would let him get, though.

"What the hell, Torrin?" Just like that you were in front of Luke, pushing him behind you, shielding him with your body.

"What?" The asshole had the gall to smirk, putting his hands into his pockets. God, you wanted to slap that grin right off his smug face. "I'm just teasing."

"Yeah, last time your 'teasing' resulted in him having to buy a new book bag and replace all his notebooks." You growled the words out.

"Fuck off, bitch. This is between me and the twerp." Torrin was never bright enough to grasp the concept of patience.

"Hey, better idea. Go fuck yourself." You watched as the bullies features contorted into pure rage, the kind only testosterone and teenage angst could encite.

"I'm done with you." Torrin grabbed your shoulders, pushing you away from Luke, who tried to back away.

Oh, this was gonna be bad. You remember thinking that specifically, that part was one of the only moments of clarity you had. Everything sort of blurred after you decked Torrin square on his chin, knocking him flat on his ass.

…

tags: @rbforsmileycal​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​

[evergreen-dryad]

begin again.

[day 6 - eyes/dreams]

They are in the golden field of grass again, out on the test floor of Evankhell.

The sky blazes blue, blue above them — it takes a while for Baam to remember it is an artificial sky, and it is the ceiling he is looking at. It always takes time for Baam to realise, so it seems. He knows, because he can see it in the way Baam looks around, and the little jolt of realisation that comes when his shoulders shift, and his wide eyes stop to a point slightly above them, instead of soaking it all in.

Khun looks at him, and feels his chest grow.

This is how he imagines Baam arriving. A Baam that has come back to life, fully intact as if nothing had happened. Across the field, he starts running.

Strange he can't imagine Baam anywhere else, but this place echoes of him — a sea of gold, and the forever blue of the sky stretching on.

"Baam," he breathes, name barely curling past his mouth. He can't hear him, he's still some distance away — sitting up, breaking off a bit of the tall grass to taste —

And then the announcement breaks. Khun barely hears it — after all, he knows it by heart. His heartbeat loud in his head.

He has to make it to him this time.

Baam, scrambling for the Black March, standing. Running, but with the distinct black-red of his clothes, it's only a matter of time before someone sights him as an easy kill.

"BAAM." The shout explodes out of him, surprising even him. Baam turns around, alarm in his entire stance, too shaky to even hold a sword let alone a legendary needle properly. Golden eyes look at him, pull him in, and Khun—

—feels the world fall away. It's just the two of them, in this moment of time.

Baam smiles, a tremulous thing. There is knowledge in his eyes, and grief. He feels it pull at his gut.

And Baam says the damning words, "Is Rachel still safe with you?"

He has to stop looking at him. There's a block, a feeling in his chest that won't go away. He recognises it as — yes, he's upset.

The moment sways, like oil across water, and he starts to feel himself waking up.

He's dreaming again. He's dreaming of where they began, long ago in a golden field under a fake sky, but that sky was the most beautiful Khun has ever remembered one being. He's always noted them as one may note a nicely wrought piece of architecture, but never has his mind dwelt on one.

(Blue for emotion, for horizons on the morrow. Always far away.)

Not when the boy he loved—

(no. did he? dissonance.)

Are you sure, Aguero? His mother's voice murmurs insidiously from the corners of his mind. Did you love him, or were you trying to gain more things from him? Who is he kidding? It's ultimately his own voice, forever asking himself, did he change? Or not?

He can't admit he misses him. He stares into space, the image stuttering as he opens his eyes to darkness. Not out loud, never. Whenever he talks about him to other people, he passes it as coolly as he would every other subject.

The impulse to laugh it off catches in his throat, and the summary always comes out brief and hard, so no one would even think of prying.

No one does, anyway. At this stage, everyone in the tower has lost at least a few people. It is nothing strange.

He wonders, if no one would ever light the same feelings in his heart as Baam had. With each year, he could feel himself becoming more and more detached. Allies were allies. He checked in with Shibisu and co., and could call them friends, but didn't feel the pressing need to socialise with them more than necessary. Getting ahold of Rak was an obstacle in of itself, so the conversations they had were sparse to most.

Ironically, perhaps the most he talked to, or put in the most effort for, was putting the facade on for Rachel.

With Rachel, he makes himself be gentle. The gentleness that could have gone to Baam, he dredges it up, and telegraphs the movements for her. He doesn't have to feel it to be able to do it. That has usually been how he's been able to keep winning, keep succeeding for every floor.

Rachel, of yellow eyes, slitted pupils, sallow skin. The viper in the grass that had bitten Baam's heel. Pale corn yellow that don't shine as Baam's do, not in the same way. Fool's gold.

She tells him she dreamt of Baam again. Yes, so did I. How much does she feel she needs to repeat this performance? Does she dream of Baam every night like he does? He doubts it. He really, really doubts it.

"I dreamt of him calling out to me," she says softly. She always looks at her hands when she recites these. They move minutely, fingertips aligning. "From a very dark place," she added, swallowing, as though to mask emotions. "There were fish all around him, and he spoke with their voice." She murmurs, eyes turning to the window for dramatic effect. "I think a great silvery fish had swallowed him, you see."

He doesn't see, but he supposes he can applaud her for varying up the routine. He opens his mouth, and soothing words tumble out.

*

He dreams of the throne in the crown game, Baam sat upon it resplendently, safely. This time, he simplifies things. This time, he takes liberties he would never have thought of before. He lovingly crowns Baam's mop of dark hair, leans against him, deposits himself in his lap like a cat in its favourite spot.

There's no place like napping in a sunspot. Khun closes his eyes, and feels warmth. The soft thigh beneath him, the slight brush of Baam's hands above him as they fidget and readjust.

The flush of his face for doing such a thing, but his eyes remain determinedly closed. He can absolutely will this blush away, damnit.

*

He dreams he dreams he dreams. He reconstructs times of when he was with Baam, he revisits, he redoes it in such a way he can be happy with. He could have touched him on the shoulder more. He didn't need to have focused on bickering with that ridiculous Samurai guy about his earrings, god — so instead, he turns to Baam and acts cute instead.

"Right, Baam?" He knows he's definitely a good-looking guy, courtesy of Khun genes, so just notice him more.

I'm here. You don't need to fixate on Rachel so much-

*

"Is Rachel happy with you?"

"I trust you, Khun-ssi."

A gentle smile that leaves Khun choking on wordless grief in the mornings.

*

Why is it that Baam seems to look more wide-eyed and delicate with each dream? What does Baam even look like? Is he sure of the exact contours of his face anymore? The exact hue of his eyes-?

(There were no photos taken. That damn Yu Hansung could have given them those instead of those nuisance rings, he's sure there's usable video footage somewhere in their archives.)

*

The shades of Baam's eyes:

Burnished, bronze, warm toffee, that gleam gold like coins, or amber in low light, like honey. Amber that Khun would allow to drip around and entrap him.

Amber that has gone away with the light, amber that is only a memory.

*

Nothing on the Lighthouse network too. Disappointing. He supposes he can't expect images of small fry on 2F to interest anyone.

If only they could have known Baam—

*

Trust Baam to never reproach him, even in the worst of his dreams where he cradles Baam's brokentornbleedingblue body. He never asks the words Khun always does to himself, everyday:

"Why didn't you save him?"

How could you have failed? How did you not take account of this? Did you underestimate Rachel? Why couldn't you have been there-

(Always: "Have you taken Rachel to see her stars yet?"

Not yet, he always answers at last, head lowered.

He never says the rest out loud: when she does, that's when I'll finally throw her off the tower. )

They do say to keep your enemies closer for a reason, he reasons as he leans in to lightly brush away Rachel's self-pitying tears, once again. They are disgustingly cold, he observes clinically. Not that fresh, hm?

Khun never gives Rachel a reason to doubt he is anything but gentle towards her.

*

(Khun A. A. dreams of the ways he could have saved the 25th Baam. Twenty-five nights and more, in a row.

It never changes. It begins and it ends with Rachel, bringing Baam to existence, ending his life. It begins and it ends with Baam, always asking him to look after her.

It begins and it ends with Khun Aguero Agnis, unable to look him in the eye, and tell him the truth.

What does Baam dream of? Where does he exist now? Khun doesn't believe in the afterlife, but —

—Baam should have died happy. Innocent. With no memory of what Rachel could have done to him.

If there is a god watching from the top of the tower, then Khun prays—

If pray is even the word to use — that he's happy. Perhaps even better, with no sensation or thought or memory.)

*

— begin again: Khun Aguero Agnis meets the 25th Baam in a golden field of grass. They become friends. They do not, and Khun passes him by, and Baam dies a bloody death early. They do not, and Khun wins for Team A, and Baam does not pass on, and Rachel leaves him behind. They do, and Khun wins for Team A, but the fiasco for Team B happens anyway and Baam finds Rachel, so they’re left behind.

.

begin again —

*

.

.

Where Jue Viole Grace sleeps, Baam emerges.

Baam dreams of Rachel, of stars and towers and being flung into darkness. Falling, from a great height, into the great dark, with no one to ever hear his voice crying out again. He dreams of a shaft of light opening into his dark world, and Rachel coming to save him once again. But no. Of course not — he wakes, and they tell him she put him here.

But he can't stop dreaming of her.

And of happier times. In the cafeteria. With the others. With Khun.

Baam dreams of blue skies and warm blue eyes, and a hand that reached out to him. Hands and words that cut through others so easily, but have always been gentle with him.

The dreams begin with Rachel, but they always end with Khun. From sunrise yellow, to deep night blue.

//or: the anime was khun's dreams of the test floor so they have more moments together. i projected my angst onto khun, so here we are. it began as a drabble, and after repurposing it for day 6 it’s still basically a long angst drabble set in canon.

...maybe i’ll rewrite it for AO3 one day. 3am brain is dead.

[altumvidetur]

Kaishin Fic Recs

Previously: Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to split it in a series of posts, and, well, when it comes to DCMK, I have one major OTP. So here’s enough Kaishin to keep you entertained for a year:

The Dwelling Night, by proser132

Three shot. KaiShin. Brief moments were all they had, but dwelling on dreams is sometimes enough.

In Theory, by orphan_account

Kaito's got a whole list of cheesy and awful pickup lines to use on Shinichi.

(Un)fortunately for him, Shinichi's got just as many to throw back.

As You Wish, by orphan_account

Shinichi hasn't been doing a very good job of pretending he isn't hiding something from Kaito, and Kaito is more than determined to find out what it is -- even if it means asking everyone the detective knows in order to do so.

He just wants to know what all the boxes are for.

you’re the reason i come home, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi comes home after a two-week investigation in New York. Kaito could not be more thrilled.

Lovesick, by DragonSorceress22

"You know what I want? I want a fic where Kaito sends out a heist notice but then he gets sick but he can't NOT go. I guess it could go the other way too, where Conan solves a heist notice but then he gets sick but he can't NOT go. I want to read that fic." "There's tons of fics like that..." And now there's one more.

whispers and nicks and all these tricks, by LunaDarkside

In which there is sex pollen at a heist, and Kaito and Shinichi end up in the same room. Coincidentally enough.

Be Real, by DragonSorceress22

This, KID thought, was what someone reaching their limit looked like.

a study in scarlette, by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

wait a minute (so you’re not just losing the dress), by LunaDarkside

Everything is overwhelmingly good. And then Kaito has to go and say it.

“I’ve never done this before,” he mumbles mindlessly against the pliant softness of Shinichi’s lips, and everything immediately stops.

“Wait, what?” Shinichi jerks upwards, eyes wide.

Or, neither Shinichi nor Kaito has any experience, but they make do.

The printer’s a lie, by OrphanText

In which Kuroba has an annoying printer, a very good looking (and mildly terrifying) RA, and general bad ideas up his sleeves (but it works out in the end).

The Alcohol Test, by DragonSorceress22

When your rival-turned-best-friend is a phantom thief who has recently reached legal drinking age, there’s really only one responsible way to approach the matter. Spreadsheets.

Getting Off Track, by solomonara

The easiest way to find out what someone wants is to ask them, so of course neither Shinichi nor Kaito KID is going to do that. (OR: In which Shinichi and Kaito KID take turns falling into each other's arms.)

Wouldn’t Change A Thing, by BlackKatJinx

“Don't you get tired of it?”

“'It'?” He asks.

“Stealing.”

By Any Other Name, by AngelicSentinel

the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them say your name.

Snowed In, by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi and Kaito are exceptionally bad at quiet nights at home.

Go Out With a Bang (Since We’re to Wilt Anyway), by KXL

Love can be cruel, and painful, but Kaito knew that already. Maybe he's just a masochist.

take in another breath (get closer), by Melomaniac

He paused on the threshold of the door between the pseudo-corridor and the seating area, and faintly corrected himself. Not as alone as he thought. Not as alone at all.

Sat by himself, with his chin resting on his hand, an arm loosely propped on the small table, an explosion of paper and assorted important looking documents in front of him, flask of (presumably) coffee held to his lips, was Kudou Shinichi, whose eyes had met Kaito’s when he walked into the carriage, had widened, and hadn’t looked away since.

In which there is a late night (or an early morning), a train, copious amounts of flirting, a phone, a name, and a stolen heart.

Last Day Again, by Phantoms_Echo

(Summary by me: Groundhog Day!AU with Kaito becoming more and more unhinged as he desperately tries to break the time loop he’s stuck in.)

Net Force, by LunaDarkside

Ran decides it's high time for Shinichi and Kaito to get together. Awkward matchmaking ensues.

Of Corset Hurts, by KXL

Shinichi and Kaito are both pretty much done with the situation, though for somewhat different reasons. Both reasons involve overly long dresses to some degree.

Ace up Their Sleeves, by Procrastination_Sensation

Summary by me: Soulmates!AU in which seeing your soulmark in someone else (your soulmate) causes debilitating pain until the two of you kiss.

Murder by Cremation, by KXL

Capturing the lawless monsters who ate people after burning them up was, apparently, the easy part.

Halloween Heist, by Phantoms_Echo

Because Halloween Scavenger Hunt doesn't sound as nice.

Trick or Treat, Tantei-kun! Up for a little Halloween game? I’ve left clues all over town. Find them all, you’ll get a treat. Fail to find them in time, you’ll get a trick. Good luck, Tantei-kun. -Kaitou KID

the suffering of fools, by AngelicSentinel

It's Las Vegas; the lights are bright, the liquor is flowing, and Ran married someone other than Shinichi. He just wants to drown his sorrows, but a half-familiar face steals his drink.

♠ ♦ ♣ ♥ Case Files, by AngelicSentinel

Solving life's little mysteries, one at a time.

one-shots in the suffering of fools universe

A Study in Trust, by Calculatrice

Conan swallows anger and condemnation and, for the very first time, gives Kaitou KID the benefit of the doubt. ________________

In which Conan constantly has to revise what he thinks of a certain thief, and is frankly getting pretty sick of feeling like his subconscious is already ahead of him.

Jacket, by Calculatrice

He turns to look at KID, grimacing as his overlong sleeves swish around him.

“It doesn’t exactly fit me,” he frowns as he points out the obvious. “Does this do anything for you?”

Kiss and tell., by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi might have gotten a little ahead of himself. And KID. Luckily, Hakuba has a level head and a soft spot for lovesick genius-idiots.

the goat one-shot, by helloimtrash

They're family now.

Interrogation, by Calculatrice

Admittedly, there are many things Kaito could probably be blamed for, but pulling Shinichi into the nearest empty hallway to kiss him senseless isn’t one of them.

So It Goes, by Calculatrice

It goes like this.

(In which Murphy’s Law isn’t much of a law - more something to be gleefully stomped on.)

Mii Plaza, by Calculatrice and helloimtrash

“Okay,” Kaito grins as the opening notes of Wii Sports ring out. “Are you ready for defeat?”

“Can’t we just play Mario Kart,” Shinichi frowns, crossing his legs as he watches Kaito push the coffee table out of the way. “It’s like, one in the morning.”

The Forensics of Falling, by LunaDarkside

[FF.Net Link] When fans of world-famous magician and actor Kuroba Kaito begin turning up dead, Inspector Kudou Shinichi is put on the case.

the toxicology of trust, by LunaDarkside

World-famous magician and actor Kuroba Kaito and the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force's star inspector Kudou Shinichi finally get some much-needed time off. Or they would, if there wasn't a killer on their cruise.

(sequel to The Forensics of Falling)

On Familiarity, by lastdream

No one had ever known Kaito quite like Shinichi did, and Kaito wasn't sure he could take it.

Lies and the Art of Relaxation, by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi is stressed and Kaito is a liar. Business as usual.

And Again, by Calculatrice

It’s late, late in the night, and while on another night they may have been awake and neck-deep in plans, or perhaps delirious and making silly conversation, tonight he and Kaito are both curled in bed.

the only bed worth sleeping, by LunaDarkside

Kaito's not a detective, but he's pretty sure there's no logical explanation for Shinichi's disappearance from his apartment. Or for the cat that's shown up in his kitchen.

Magic Eight Ball, by Rikkamaru

Shinichi chases Kaitou Kid into the Blue Parrot thinking he's injured.

(For the Kaishin Discord, which made a "challenge" that a few people took up.)

swing for the fences, by LunaDarkside

"How to Fall in Love with Kudou Shinichi (Featuring Pink Panties, Dead Bodies, and Ill-Advised Bets): A Comprehensive and Kind of Embarrassing Guide" by Kuroba Kaito.

In The Soul, by Calculatrice

Shinichi ferries souls from the shores of the living to those of the dead, so they may pass safely on to an eternal afterlife. It’s really not a difficult concept, and definitely not one he thought could be wilfully ignored, but Kuroba Kaito obviously didn’t get the memo.

even miracles, by LunaDarkside

“No, Mother,” Shinichi says pleasantly. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to host a dinner party to find me a wife.”

bros before, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi needs a fake date for his parents' vow renewal ceremony. Naturally, he asks his best friend, Hattori. 

maybe I was going too fast, by Ann1215

A year after Kaito faces off Conan, who'd figured out his identity, he comes across Kudou Shinichi during their first year of university.

Trouble is, Kudou has no idea who Kaito is.

swear i’ll never leave again, by Ann1215

When Kaito eventually grows tired of his mother's relentless matchmaking tendencies, he ropes Shinichi into tricking everyone they know and love that they're both engaged. To each other. And it's easy enough, because all they have to do is:

1. Don't lie to each other. 2. Don't tell anyone about their plan. 3. Don't fall in love with each other.

At least, it was supposed to be easy.

(See you) Next Illusion!, by PhantomsEcho

Collections of Oneshots too long to fit in Next Conan Hint.

beneath a waxing moon, by kittebasu

The man stares at him, and then shakes his head, messy hair shaking with it. “Car trouble, Detective?” The way his lips curl around the word ‘detective’ strikes Shinichi as strange, eerily familiar, and Shinichi almost has to physically shake the feeling away before he can reply.

“Engine’s making a weird noise,” Shinichi says, and then his thoughts catch up with alacrity, his muscles tensing all at once. “What makes you think I’m a detective?”

“Police tags on your car,” the man replies, grin growing wider. “Plus this is a Camry from the nineties. No one drives those but police, these days, and regular officers drive patrol cars.” He leans forward a little, gloved hands circling his helmet and lowering it slightly to his handlebars for extra balance. “Far from undercover, if you know what you’re looking for.”

The cloud cover shifts, revealing the gorgeous full moon, and the light catches the man just right, surrounding him in a pearly glow and putting his face in shadow. “And you know what you’re looking for?”

broken glass, by jadedgalaxies

KID presses Shinichi into the wall, covering his mouth with a gloved hand and shushing him quietly. Shinichi’s heart thrums. KID isn’t looking at him but every part of KID that is pressed against Shinichi is electrified. Even amidst the circumstances that led to this moment, KID’s heartbeat is steady under Shinichi’s trembling fingers. His hair tickles Shinichi’s nose, his scent sweet and overpowering. KID is warm, alive, thrilling. Shinichi’s face warms.

In this moment, beneath the pale moonlight, helping KID evade arrest, detective Kudou Shinichi realizes he’s in love with the Phantom Thief, Kaitou KID. And he probably has been for a long time.

-

Shinichi realizes he's in love with Kaitou KID and that's just the beginning.

Owned and Never More Free, by Curry Jolokia

Kaitou Kid is uncatchable. Except for this.

about a love that glows, by LunaDarkside

The good news is that it’s not an overt time limit on his life, and it’s not anything parasitic. It’s not a life-force drainer, or a bad luck charm, or a magnet for unfortunate circumstances. It’s not going to bother him in day-to-day life.

The bad news is that if Shinichi falls in love with someone, he’ll die. And they’ll die.

(There is no good news, really.)

the empty vault of night, by AngelicSentinel

Shinichi offers Kid a gift. For a price.

Sound of Silence, by Cesela

His return to being Kudou Shinichi was not everything he had hoped for, not with Ran moving on, a limp and a shattered soul as he struggles with the return to normalcy. And then there’s the neighbour with a soft smile slowly battering down his walls. Kaishin / Shinkai

A Case Closed Carol, by solomonara

With apologies to Charles Dickens. Shinichi is working way too hard and has zero time for Christmas or anything else, really. But a rather unlikely source is about to put him back on track...

where villains spend the weekend, by aishiteita

A former teen sleuth enlists a should-be-retired-thief's help to slap ennui in the face.

(Alternatively, a study in motives.)

always ends in a hazy shower scene, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi didn’t mean to shack up with an internationally wanted thief.

[pass-the-bechdel]

The Good Place season one full review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

100% (thirteen of thirteen).

What is the average percentage per episode of female characters with names and lines?

49.58%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Twelve of the thirteen; seven of those are 50%+, and two of those are over 60%

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Zero.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-four. Eight who appeared in more than one episode, four who appeared in at least half the episodes, and three who appeared in every episode.

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-two. Eleven who appeared in more than one episode, three who appeared in at least half the episodes, and two who appeared in every episode.

Positive Content Status:

Solid; the nature of the show is such that they really need to be making a concerted effort to reflect positive, progressive morality, and as such faults in the content would also almost certainly be considered faults in the show itself (average rating of 3).

General Season Quality:

Magnificent! It’s a wonderful ride, whether it’s your first time through or not. Just delightful.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

So, let’s talk about plot twists. In the current entertainment landscape, it seems like everyone is intent upon ‘subverting expectations’, and the good old-fashioned plot twist is very much swept up in that, since a subversion is almost always going to play as a ‘twist’ by definition. The unfortunate thing about this current landscape is that it’s rife with ‘subversive twists’ which are really just bad storytelling; they’re only there because of some pathological fear of predictability, or worse, because the creative minds just want to feel cleverer than their audiences by delivering content that no-one saw coming, serving their own egos at the expense of coherent narratives. If your ‘twist’ is about your own (supposed) intelligence, if you’re baiting the audience by playing into a common trope and then laughing at them for thinking you meant it, if you’re changing the story out of nowhere just for shock value without bothering to build toward the twist because you’re too afraid that someone might figure it out before the reveal...that’s not a real twist. It’s not even a real subversion, it’s just a bad-faith gimmick. It’s not there for the story at all, it’s there to make the writer feel special, because apparently feeling special for delivering quality storytelling isn’t good enough anymore. A proper, genuine plot twist should:

1. make sense in the context of the narrative (it should not be tonally dissonant or jump the tracks into a different genre)

2. make sense with the content of the narrative (it may recontextualise previous events or character choices, but it does not contradict or ignore them in order to function)

3. be foreshadowed (if it comes out of nowhere, that’s not a twist, it’s a random event. It’s a deus ex machina. There’s no story in it if it isn’t built into the fabric of the narrative)

4. ultimately further the storytelling (if it has no consequences for plot or character, it’s a shock-value gimmick, not a real twist).

The above points do not guarantee that a twist will be good storytelling and not just a subversive contrivance for the fuck of it, but they should at least ensure some logical cohesion and protect the integrity of the plot instead of sacrificing it in the name of empty surprise. That covered, it’s easy to see how – even (or perhaps, especially) in this twist-saturated tv landscape we currently inhabit – the big twist for season one of The Good Place still manages to be – in technical parlance – dope. The writing protects the twist not by being ‘too clever’; it simply offers a decoy issue to drive the plot. Eleanor is a Good Place fraud; that’s the first twist in the plot, and it compels the entire season forward. Other twists - Jason’s reveal, Eleanor’s confession, the introduction of the ‘real’ Eleanor - set the stage for this being A Show That Has Twists, but in a way that makes so much contextual sense that it doesn’t set us up to be looking for the next one (a common problem for those shows that rely on ‘cleverer than the audience’ twists - they’ve set themselves up as mysteries for the audience to unravel, and then they kill their own storytelling as they twist in knots trying to keep ahead of millions of intelligent viewers). The Good Place actually tells us outright that something is wrong with this supposed ‘happy afterlife’, it just fools us into thinking that we already know what’s wrong, so that we don’t see the signs of the truth for what they are. Crucially, however, it doesn’t matter if you figure it out before Eleanor does. You can have your suspicions (or have had the show spoiled for you in advance), and you can still appreciate and enjoy it as it unfolds, you can pick up the clues and have a good time with them, and that’s something that all of those gimmicky-subversion plots out there are missing. Their ‘twists’ are not proper functioning pieces of the narrative, and so the story doesn’t work if you already know the reveal; there’s no juicy build-up to enjoy, or worse, you expose your own illogical contrivances or outright plot holes that were created in the course of writing a crappy twist just to feel relevant. The Good Place works because - like any good story - it isn’t about the twist. It’s about the journey.

An important part of what makes the twist work also is that it interweaves the sins of Tahani and Chidi with the discissions of morality without drawing too much attention to them; if all four humans had simply been frauds, it would have been narratively empty, especially if the reveals were coming late in the piece. Jason’s works because it comes out early, and because the Jianyu cover is interesting and distinctly different both to Eleanor’s ploy and to the behaviour of the rest of the neighbourhood, but if the others had turned in the same way it would have been too contrived, too easy, and it would toss out the personalities we had gotten used to (which would violate Good Twist point #2). Since the show DOES pull that trick with Michael (which works because he’s the architect of the whole situation, not a pawn within it), it’s essential that they’re more subtle with Tahani and Chidi’s reasons for being where they are, and in playing it as they do they also reinforce the show’s central deliberations on morality. It’s an inspired framework for approaching what are traditionally considered ‘heady’ themes (and y’all know I’m into it), and every decision about how to approach and balance character behaviour is coming from a position of ethical consideration, weighing not only the acts themselves, but how they compare to the moral theory of various different and conflicting philosophies. It just goes to show that you don’t have to make something ponderous and inaccessible in order to have a cerebral conversation through television - you can do it just fine with afterlife comedy.

As I noted above the cut, the nature of the show automatically lends itself to careful consideration of any feminist and/or progressive content, and as such it should keep a pretty clean bill throughout, or risk cracking its own concept. I do wish they would come out stronger on the queer side of things (as I said in the episode posts, they really aren’t vague about the idea that Eleanor is attracted to women, but her saying words about hot women is still not delivering a lot on the representation front, especially when she is known to do more than say words when it comes to dudes, and the only other queer content we get is the fact that Gunnar and Antonio are soulmates, and that doesn’t technically mean they’re romantically or sexually involved (especially since they’re fakes anyway, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing)). In the mean time though, we have a female lead, 100% on the Bechdel and an essentially balanced number of male and female characters abounding, plus some really nice variety in racial backgrounds (and great names to go along with those - it’s a bit of a peeve of mine usually when show’s include multicultural characters but land everyone with Anglicised or ‘white-friendly’ names. Let the Bambadjans of the world keep their names). We’ve taken a clear stance on even ‘benign’ sexism (i.e. the stuff that’s just men saying inappropriate things - ‘just a suggestion! just a joke! just trying to get a reaction out of you, why are you so sensitive?’ - it’s all literal demon behaviour here), and I won’t pretend that I’m expecting them to get into the real nitty-gritty, but that’s ok. I’m happy to have something which is making a point of not being problematic, because such refuges have real value. So, maybe there won’t be a lot for me to tease apart as the show progresses, but that’s not a bad thing. At the moment, we have green lights across the board, and that’s a hard thing to find. I’m going with it, and we’ll see where we end up. 

[skyrimaddiction]

Different Characters meeting my OC Syan Part 2

See Part 1 here: https://skyrimaddiction.tumblr.com/post/613971069135716352/different-characters-meeting-my-oc-syan-part-1

Part 3: https://skyrimaddiction.tumblr.com/post/615307555752771584/different-characters-meeting-my-oc-syan-part-3

Kodlak: He was in the basement of Jorrvaskr listening to Vilkas talk of his struggles with the beastblood, when he heard the door open. A new scent filled the air, and Vilkas and him both silenced their conversation so that the newcomer wouldn’t overhear them. They both turned to look at the newcomer. Kodlak instantly recognized her. He was filled with surprise, and then joy, trust, and familiarity. It was a woman, and not just any woman, but the woman from his dreams that will stand beside him in the afterlife and fight Lord Hircine to save the other trapped souls from his hunting grounds. He knew her as a trustworthy and formidable ally. One he called friend, and he knew he could trust the future of the Companions with. He would name her Harbinger when the time was right. The red-headed high elf approached him and they spoke for the first time. Kodlak knew that she would still have to prove herself to the others and gain their respect and trust. He asked Vilkas to test her skills in the yard. Vilkas begrudgingly agreed and lead her towards the yard. Kodlak watched as they walked away, and he smiled to himself contently. He was glad that she had finally arrived. He knew she had arrived in Whiterun a few nights ago, as everyone kept re-telling the story of how she leaped onto a Giant’s back and blinded it with daggers. He knew Farkas was fond of her, Aela was impressed by her, Skjor had no opinion yet, and Vilkas didn’t believe the tale. None the less, she was already making waves in Jorrvaskr. Kodlak might not know how things will turn out during her time in with The Companions, but he knew the end result. The friendship and trust he had for Syan might only exist now in his dreams, but he knew in time they would come to fruition.

Brynjolf: He got word from one of the guards that a newcomer had seen right through the visitor's tax scheme at the front gate. Most people didn’t bother to even question it and just paid. Odd that a newcomer saw it right off the bat. He wanted to see just who this person was. He knows every face that resides in and around Riften, and he laid eyes on her right away. It’s a woman, a red-head like him, except she is an Elf, an Altmer. Her long red hair flowed gracefully in the gentle breeze. The fall color foliage only amplified her beauty. He noticed right away from her armor and weapons that she too, must get by on less than honorable means. Scavenging and looting most likely. He approached her and mentioned how she’s never earned all that coin doing honest work. She only raised an eyebrow at him, looked him up and down, and said: “Alright, what am I doing and how much are you paying?” She was sharp this one. He told her the plan to steal a ring from Madesi’s StrongBox and plant it inside Brand-Shei’s pocket. He drew everyone’s attention in the market, and as soon as the crowd gathered, he lost eyes on her. He had never lost eyes on anyone before, this surprised him, and also confirmed that she was exactly the fresh blood the guild needed. Not even two minutes pass by, and she’s in his eyesight near Brand-Shei, giving him the signal that the job was done. Impressive, and nothing went wrong. He mentioned that there was more work and coin for her if she was interested. She said, “You’re with the Guild.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. This lass was proving to be quite something else. “Yes lass, if you are interested in joining, make your way down to the Ragged Flagon.” She nodded and walked away, heading to all the vendors to sell all her looted goods. She had all the male merchants wrapped around her fingers, and all the women envied her. When she talked to Grelka, she was a hard bargainer, squeezing out every Septim she could. This lass was going places. good places. He knew he needed her in the Guild, and maybe, just maybe, she will help them turn things around and get them back up on their feet again.

Ancano: He had heard that a new student had arrived at the college, and he made it his business to see to it that he learned as much about her as possible. When he saw the high-elf woman for the first time, he was suspicious. The Thalmor keep track on every high-elf in Skyrim, and he was not notified of any high-elfs being sent to or heading towards the college. Mirabelle was giving her the tour, and Ancano trailed behind them at a distance, eavesdropping on them. Apparently, she had come to learn more about destruction magic. He could sense an air of danger around her, and he knew that he must keep a watchful eye on her. He continued to trail her, as she had her first class with Tolfdir. He asked her to wield a ward spell to block his magic attack. She claimed she had never used a ward spell before, but her instant mastery of the spell was astounding. Ancano only grew more suspicious. Either she was lying, or she had great magical instincts. If that was the case, he would need to be very wary of her. Ancano considered himself to be the most powerful mage in the college, and any new threat he must address swiftly and discreetly. He knew she was dangerous. The class was dismissed and told to meet up at the old ruins of Saarthal. He stepped in her path, blocking her from leaving. “Pardon my intrusion, I am Ancano, the Thalmor Advisor here at the college. It is my business to know everyone and everything relating to this college, yet I know nothing of you, please state your business here so that I may get back to my work.” Syan’s eyes met his, and he could sense the seething hatred for him, and a creeping sense of dread drenched through his bones and into his core. He stilled with fear. Syan replied, “Who I am and my business here is none of your concern, not get out of my way, or I will make you.” Her threat was laced with so much venom, Ancano felt his throat close up, and he couldn’t speak a single word., let alone breath. He quickly side-stepped out of her way, and watched as she walked away, throwing a menacing glare over her shoulder back at him. He finally was able to breathe once the college doors closed behind her. That woman would be the death of him. He knew it, so he had to make sure he disposed of her before she came after him. This woman was more dangerous than anyone knew, and Ancano knew that most would not be able to see it. Dread filled his body once more. This was not going to end well.

  Astrid: She was pissed to find out that someone had stolen a contract that should have been the Dark brotherhood’s. Someone got to the old crone at the Riften Orphanage before they did. Whoever this person was Astrid was dead serious about finding out. She spoke with all her contacts in Riften, yet no one knew a damn thing. She finally had to speak with the children of the Orphanage as a last resort. She had slipped a sleeping potion into the other worker’s drink, so she slept soundly. The children all sat in their beds, with looks of fear and uncertainty on their faces. Astrid pulled up a chair. “Do not be alarmed, I am only here to see if you are happy with our…..services.” She said calmly. The children eased and nodded enthusiastically. They all took turns replying “She was the best!” “She slit Grelad’s throat and blood was everywhere!” “We miss the pretty elf lady! I wish my hair was red like hers!” “Her eyes were pretty too, like sunshine!” Astrid had enough information to go on by her appearance at least, but now it was time to figure out who and where she was. Alas, the children didn’t know, so she had to continue gathering information elsewhere. She spent weeks contacting all her sources trying to get any information about her. Ironically, the information she already had, from a few previous contracts, and a new contract that came in. A few people had already placed contracts for Syan’s death, and Astrid had sent out new recruits to take care of her, except the assassins failed and were killed by this woman. The Thalmor then approached Astrid as a last resort, as their previous attempts to kill her were unsuccessful, so they were willing to pay to have someone else deal with her. That contract too had failed. When Astrid realized that the few failed contracts she had were all for the same woman, she was able to piece the puzzle together. The woman was a red-haired high elf by the name of Syan. She had a primary residence in Whiterun, and was with The Companions, Thieves Guild, and the College. She was rarely in one place for any length of time. Constantly wandering about Skyrim on various missions and jobs. You would think that someone who was deeply involved in various parts of Skyrim would be easy to find and track down, but it made it increasingly more difficult. Astrid would need an exact itinerary of all the jobs this woman was on, and try to best guess when and where she would be, which was impossible. Astrid bribed one of Whiterun’s guards to send her letter by horse once Syan had returned to Whiterun. This would at least give her a few hours to be able to dispose of her. Finally one day a courier on horseback arrived with a letter for Astrid, it was from the guard in Whiterun. Syan had returned. Astrid immediately set off on Shadowmere towards Whiterun, pushing Shadowmere to run as fast as she could. Astrid arrived a few hours after nightfall. The guard told her that Syan was still in town, and was currently in her house. Astrid snuck in and slowly made her way up to Syan’s bedroom. At this point, Astrid needed to and wanted to slaughter her, the brotherhood was already in bad shape, and these several failed contracts were only making matters worse. She crept closer and closer to Syan’s bed until she was right at the foot of it. Syan appeared to be sleeping soundly. Astrid drew her dagger when a swift kick sent her flying backward. Astrid clumsily fell into the table and chair in the corner of the room. Syan rose from the bed, wielding two daggers. “Only a coward strikes when one sleeps.” She said venomously. She then lunged at Astrid, delivering swift kicks and slashes. Astrid barely managed to block her attacks and was losing ground quickly. Syan moved in a way Astrid had never seen before. Astrid grabbed her dagger and began to counter-attack, only to miss as Syan dodged her swings effortlessly. Syan grabbed one of the rafters in the ceiling and swung a fierce kick into Astrid, who went stumbling down the stairs and onto the kitchen floor. Syan swiftly landed in a crouch on top of Astrid and brought the twin daggers to Astrid’s throat. “Who sent you?” Syan inquired fiercely. Astrid laughed, “Who hasn’t? I’ve had multiple contracts placed on your head, and you’ve killed every one of the assassins I sent after you. Most impressive. However, you stole a contract that was rightfully ours, and we do not tolerate that. So, you owe us a contract, a life for a life. I have three individuals in an abandoned shack in the swamps outside of Morthal. There is a contract for one of them. You have to guess which.” Syan’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I would even consider that?!” Astrid raised an eyebrow, “Because you would have already sliced my throat open if you had no intention of listening to what I had to say. Perhaps, you would like to join us, get your hands a little….bloody yourself. Earn some gold, settle a few vendettas. All in the name of Sithis and the Dark Brotherhood. Interested?” Syan slowly lowered her daggers before sheathing them. “It would help to know who wants me dead so that I can except more threats from them in the future.” She said. Astrid replied, “If you were a part of the brotherhood, these contracts would be null and void, and no one would dare put a contract on your head again.” Syan contemplated before agreeing to meet Astrid at the abandoned shack. Astrid left swiftly and returned to the sanctuary. Syan was dangerous, very dangerous. No one had EVER gotten the drop on Astrid before. Astrid would have to tread carefully, who knows what this woman could do, as the saying goes, keep your friends close, your enemies closer.