#i actually have no idea whether this has been translated before but anyway here's my take on it ;-;
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Diabolik Lovers DAYLIGHT Drama CD ☽ Ruki's letter (standard edition)
This letter comes with the standard edition of Ruki's Daylight CD!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
How you look when you wake up in the early morning. When you feel touched by a beautiful poem. On those nights when you cannot bear the sadness. When you are met with a view so astounding that you shiver from sheer emotion.
If I told you that this is what comes to my mind when I think about nobody but you, would you laugh at me?
— Ruki M.
#isn't this the most romantic fuckin shit like ugh#i didn't know he could be so poetic like chief i think we need more of this#i actually have no idea whether this has been translated before but anyway here's my take on it ;-;#i still don't know how i missed this tho i bought this cd at release but somehow i only just found out there's a letter inside aaaaaaa#diabolik lovers#dialovers#diabolik lovers translation#diabolik lovers translations#diahell#my translations#otomehonyaku#ruki mukami#mukami ruki#diabolik lovers daylight#diabolik lovers drama cd
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Here I go, over-analyzing a singular scene from Captain Laserhawk, and of course it's Rayman!
Minor nudity/minor sexual talk warning!
So this absolutely famous scene, am I right?
Few hours ago, I started thinking about every single thing Rayman had done in Captain Laserhawk, and how I could analyze it.
And so I realized a few things about this moment, or I just overthought a few things in this moment, but ANYWAYS!-
This particular practice is called Nyotaimori -Nantaimori for male models- and it's translation can be dumbed down to 'body sushi'. It's the Japanese practice of eating food, primarily sushi, off of a female model.
At first, I had this idea: "Hey, what if Rayman deciding to hire a Nyotaimori model is one of the ways he tries to futilely connect to others?" Here's a few notes as to why I thought this:
It's been clearly stated that Rayman is incredibly lonely, and there are a few scenes and things he does that shows he's a bit desperate for any sort of interaction. I mean, even if he was drunk and coked up off his rocker, he still listened to an ominous message on his TV and willingly went to go talk to a 'terrorist', and even was minorly friendly with Bullfrog even though they had just met. Rayman was also still under the impression that the hybrid was a terrible person that just happened to be a bit nice, but he still continued to talk to him even though he really had no primary reason to other than 'talk to the frog'.
Someone -even though it's a paid interaction- willingly undressing themselves to be completely nude and allowing you to eat food off of them while they lay on their stomach is a very intimate (non-sexual) thing. It could be a non-verbal feeling of trust that Rayman gains from engaging in this practice. He might not even know her name, but he might believe that she trusts he won't hurt her.
Rayman doesn't seem necessarily sexual with this model, he's just eating and watching television. Of course, he could've done something more sensual and/or sexual with this model before he saw his copy on the big screen, but we will likely never know if he did, so the assumption that he hadn't is more prominent. His goal with this practice wasn't for sexual gratification, it's just to have someone be there, whether they want to or not.
And so, I decided to do some more research on Nyotaimori, and even more things were brought to my attention. The main point I gather from this is:
This is a very unprofessional and likely unregulated meeting.
There are actually a lot of rules usually strictly set in businesses that sell Nyotaimori!
Sushi should not be placed directly on the body. There should be some form of divider, like a banana leaf or plastic wrapping. The model Rayman is eating off of clearly has no divider whatsoever. Additionally, you're usually not allowed to touch the model whatsoever. Rayman didn't touch her in this scene, but it just adds to the 'I don't think he was sexual or sensual with her'. (He's was 100% a rule-follower to the end at this point... Other than hard drugs.)
Not too surprising, but there are indeed body regulations (what a person's body should look like). Although the idea isn't surprising, the main regulation itself is. A model shouldn't be big-breasted, they aim for smaller cupped women, 'so the sushi doesn't roll off'. The model seemingly has very large breasts, although that could be the reason why she's on her stomach, but that's another issue.
As mentioned, the model is on her stomach. Nyotaimori models are placed on their backs, and actually have some form of covering most of the time! Shells, thongs, petals, and as seen with this model, some flowers! Another thing however, is that she's very nonchalant. She's swinging her legs, eating an olive, and subtly reacts to Rayman when he sees his look-alike. Models aren't allowed to react to what their patrons do, unless they are being incredibly inappropriate towards them.
The areas where models and their patron(s) are going to be eating/sitting still for very long periods at are set up meticulously, even in at-home sessions. In the background, you can subtly see a bra on the couch and possibly a pair of underwear hanging from a lamp, these are highly likely to be the model's. It's seemingly a very messy meeting, which is unusual.
SO! I can make the assumption from all this is that: This hybrid cow is a beginner model and doesn't care too much about professionalism; the business she works for just doesn't care, OR she's just some joe schmoe (which is a very unsettling idea to be honest) and was casually up for Rayman eating sushi off her ass and back, OR Eden's regulations for Nyotaimori are incredibly lax.
What does that all lead up to? Still the first idea: Rayman is desperate for any form of connection, even if they don't talk to him. He just wants someone to be there, whether they actually care about him or not.
This idea also contributes to how he stayed under the Council's clutches for so long. They gave him attention. Although they were definitely the reason he's needy for any type of attention, they gave him their eyes consistently sparingly and convinced him that was all he was ever going to get.
And tying this to his first interaction with Bullfrog and how he turned against Eden so quick and didn't just adamantly deny Bullfrog's vision, Bullfrog gave him the most neutral attention he has ever received in decades.
Not overly positive attention like he gets on his show (which definitely is fake to him), and not suffocatingly negative attention that the Council and some speciest people like Red have shown him- Bullfrog gave Rayman his real, raw attention, and it's probably going to be become like a drug to him.
#arthrobug#bugbrain#bugbrain bumblings#captain laserhawk#captain laserhawk blood dragon remix#bugsy rambles and overanalyzes a scene clearly meant to be a joke againnn#because of coursee he diddd#rayman#bullfrog#clh#cl#character analysis#cw#cw minor nudity#oh shit it's past midnight I started typing this at 10:50 uhhhh#i fucked up my amino streak AGAIN damn 😔#duolingo's going to be so pissed off at meeeee wahhhh
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edited my post from yesterday on spiderbit eurydice and orpheus to be clearer. it is now. way longer klsdjfk. but the idea is the same. anyway enjoy reading if you do and uh. pues f if you don't, no? lskdfjsdk. kinda already mentioned it in the post but should clarify here that i'm 100% talking about the greek myth.
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Thinking about spiderbit as eurydice and orpheus is so interesting to me, cause I think depending on how you look at it and how you think of the story, there's an argument for both. And then you remember everything that was purgatory and how clear of a parallel it is to the myth hdksjdks. Honestly though, I feel like the purgatory parallels are the biggest reason roier cubito as orpheus is winning out on that one poll, and I kinda have to disagree with that. The evidence for orpheus roier is there from the start. Roier cubito is always and forever a perfect, permanent orpheus figure even before considering purgatory, and it's down to the devotion roier and orpheus cling to and the grief they both drown in. (The rest under the read more)
Backtracking first for a bit to set the stage. There are many different versions of the eurydice and orpheus myth out there, and its nature as a myth means that interpretations (and translations of any original latin or greek versions) are always changing. Disclaimer of course that my understanding and general knowledge of the myth has been mainly influenced by the wider english-speaking cultural approach to it. I'm focusing on the orpheus archtype from my understanding of what it means (which I'll explain along the way) because otherwise if I didn't I'd end up getting too boggled down in "virgil said this according to this translation" and "ovid went more in this direction following this translator" details. and there is no way in hell i'm struggling through translating on my own with my measle little two years of latin classes under my belt lskdjfkldfj.
But regardless, here's a very basic and brief summary that most versions tend to follow: Eurydice and orpheus are married. Eurydice dies. Orpheus treks out to the underworld through the power of music to save her and get her back. He's told the only way he can have her is if he makes the treacherous trip back to the mortal realm without turning to look at her once. He looks back right before he makes it, and fails in saving her. Sounds familiar, right? slkdjfsk
Don't get me wrong, orpheus cellbit still makes sense in a way. That's part of why the poll and idea in general is so interesting. Heed the disclaimer again but to me, the biggest, most obvious, and most immediately linked connotation the myth has always had is one of devotion. Like the type of devotion that would take you all the way into the afterlife and all the way back in the hopes that that might save the person you love. Cellbit cubito is nothing if not devoted, and normally in the loudest ways possible. He loves shouting out his devotion at all times to anyone in close proximity. It just makes sense that if anyone could hold the level of devotion necessary to be orpheus it'd be him, cause we all know he'd do anything for roier.
Plus being honest, it also makes sense just going by the dynamics in their relationship that they most often present to others. Roier cubito kinda likes playing into the dynamic of asking other people to "save" him, whether that's from mobs or hunger or anything, so long as it's not something actually serious. So much so that the idiot (said lovingly) has conditioned everyone, and I do mean everyone, both islanders and audience alike, into thinking he's defenseless and needs saving. Maxo put it best that one time when he said he felt like roier after cellbit saved him from some mobs, only for cellbit to have to correct him and say that it's usually the other way around. As far as most are concerned, cellbit does the rescuing while roier gleefully asks for the help. It is very easy to make the jump from the idea that eurydice is being saved and the image of roier cubito calling out for help with a scorpion that he could (normally at least, I know he didn't have any weapons or gear that one time during purgatory) bring down on his own. It definitely doesn't help that cellbit is, of course and as always, already running to roier with a weapon in hand to kill the scorpion. At the first chance, he's already trying to help. Anything for his husband.
So it makes sense that orpheus cellbit, who clearly loves doing the saving, would drag himself through hell in his devotion to save eurydice roier, who loves being the one saved! But then you start remembering how the story came about. You start wondering, well, why does the devotion need to be so strong? Why does eurydice even need to be saved? What has brought the both of them to the gates of the afterlife? Oh. Right. It's because she died. She's dead. Eurydice, the love of orpheus’ life, is dead.
Saving her takes and is devotion, yes, but it's also an attempt to escape grief. If she’s saved, there’s no need to mourn. If she’s saved, then she’s not dead and there’s no grief. And, always, there is no one more grief-riddled than roier (except maybe maxo, whose grief has permanently killed him). No one knows more intimately than roier how tough of a fight it is to escape constant grief because he is constantly grieving, and it just keeps getting worse. His number one recurring theme since arriving on the island has been that he will lose loved ones. To the point that sometimes, even if the person is still technically around, the grief around them and the relationship that once was finds ways to persist (just look at the mess that revolved around spreen cubito before he was confirmed to be dead).
The devotion still applies to him too, of course. Even though it's in quieter ways, there's no denying that roier is as equally devoted to cellbit as cellbit is to him. Cellbit once promised roier he'd rescue him if the feds ever arrested him. Roier once told cellbit he'd go after him and wouldn't stop until he got him back if the feds tried taking cellbit again. And that's not even the only time roier has promised that, he's said similar things multiple times before. He even had to fulfill that same promise once already, back during the regret arc when cellbit went missing trying to save felps. If there is one thing that is true, it's that roier is not lacking in orpheusian devotion.
Actually, extending that devotion from being based in romantic love to also including familial love just makes it all the clearer how much of an orpheus roier has already been. Orpheus fights through the journey, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost eurydice, of having to succumb to grief, is too much for him to take. Roier fought through the entire island and later a dungeon, holding on to hope and powering himself through devotion, because the alternative of having permanently lost bobby, of having to succumb to the grief of loosing his son to something outside of his control, was too much for him to take.
And then they both fail. Orpheus looks back too early. Sometimes he forgets, in his excitement to be so close to the end, sometimes doubt gets the best of him and he has to check, and sometimes the need to see his love again overwhelms all his senses. Sometimes maybe it's somehow all three. Roier also looked back too early, in a way, but cucurucho only knows what way that actually was. It could have been that he technically did die right at the very end before he could make it through the dungeon, or it could have been that the gods were feeling particularly cruel that day. Either way, bobby wasn't returned to him. Either way, eurydice vanishes in the morning light after orpheus gets one last glimpse of her. Either way, Bobby vanishes behind the door after roier and jaiden are given only 10 minutes to say goodbye.
This is all without even touching on some of the details about how roier's singing charms everyone he meets and how music is such an important part of his character (for those of you unfamiliar with the myth, orpheus' connection to music is so deep that the greeks named a constellation after his lyre). Or, as notes in the last version of this post pointed out, how his previous journeys to the underworld have shaken his faith and trust (which would probably need to be a whole entire other post on its own).
Roier is just permanent orpheus. He can't help it. If you believe that characters in myths are left behind, endlessly retelling their journeys even once the book is closed, then orpheus is still there, making that trip to the afterlife and back. His story is being retold through roier, who is here now. Roier, who has already gone on two trips to the afterlife and back, already told this story twice before, and is now preparing himself for a third (even a fourth, if you want to extend this whole thing and include purgatory and the eggs). It’s retold in how Roier has to do the saving, again, because he keeps getting left behind. In how he’s always drowning in grief, in some way or another. How he’ll drag himself through the journey every single time if it means a chance at saving someone he loves. If it means saving himself from more grief.
So the stage is set. Purgatory happened. Orpheus has loved, again, and he's lost, again. Roier may like it when he's the one being saved but he's been forced yet again into a position where he has a chance to do the saving. He's facing an increasingly insurmountable mountain of grief on one side and a plunging chance at salvation on the other. The book has been turned back to its first page. The story is rewinding to tell itself again. We know what path he'll pick. Now all that’s left is to see if this third trip succeeds. To see if this retelling is one where orpheus does not look back. And if he does? Well.
"Dying again, [Eurydice] did not blame her husband — What could she complain of except she was loved?" - ovid, translator: stanley lombardo
#qsmp#if you don't feel like reading the whole thing then just read the fifth paragraph (starts with “plus being honest”)#and the second to last one (starts with “roier is just permanent orpheus”)#dunno how much sense they'd make out of context but they're the ones that focus on my original thoughts the most#speaking#spiderbit#roier#cellbit#👍#i don't even want to think about how many words this is lksdjfslkf much less how much time this took#posts from me for me
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A Dragoon's Work Is Never Done part... three? four? I did not caption the first in this series with that and so I can't even find it now.
Anyway the important thing is this seemingly completely normal diplomatic mission from Radz-at-Han where the Satrap has brought his sister for Fete Day over to visit the dragons in the other city state perched on a rock with a long history of dragon relations for good or ill. Estinien is refusing to dress up as a diplomat, which he is now when it comes to dragon things, whether he likes it or not. He claims he's just here for the Fete food. G'raha is here because he's glued to Frog and likes witnessing history happening in nice ways.
Day 6: Celebrations | Holidays
Oh, wait the above images were a spot the difference
#I'm so interested in Estinien's and Frog's relationship (platonic) and how he fits into the puzzle now that she and Aymeric are A Thing @lilbittymonster
OKAY this will be unnecessary long to explain why Aymeric is getting so smirky.
So way way way back I did actually ship Estinien and Frog a bit, because I'd done dragoon 50 before HW and was therefore Completely Normal about the Estinien/WoL relationship. But I couldn't quite make it stick in my heart, and for whatever reason despite Estinien actually being, I personally think, the character with the closest bond to the WoL on the deepest levels bar the characters who are literally part of the WoL (you know, like, the 3-5 of them we cram in there), it ended up feeling more like just an unbreakable platonic friend bond. *shrugs* sometimes your heart just decrees stuff.
In Frog Canon this translates to the Stormblood 70 Dragoon quest being a moment where after sharing the dragoon eyeball tether for the first time, Frog and Estinien are riding an absolute high of connection and feeling really good about accomplishing Good Dragoon Things (and the reason I keep captioning Estinien and Frog doing dragon stuff as "work never being done" is them chasing that high again by tying up loose ends like taking Vrtra to visit Hraesvelgr or Middy, or taking Azdaja and Middy out for curry together).
That night on the steppe, they camped out together and shared a drink and the spoils of a hunt, Orn Khai was asleep by the fire. And completely unprompted Frog and Estinien both decided at the same moment to swoop in for a kiss, which lasted roughly 3 seconds and they broke apart like "woah, no, that was weird. We don't need to do that again. Nope. Sorry." and they instead solemnly vowed their friendship, and then laughed about it and decided to take that incident to their graves.
(At this point Frog had no idea Estinien had literally ever had a relationship in his life, never mind having been with Haurchefant as well and technically at the same time as her since Haurche had only nebulously mentioned "other partners"; Estinien did know she had been madly in love with Haurchefant, and Aymeric, who in turn Estinien had his suspicions was madly in love with Frog since like, seeing them interact once even in early HW. So it was a bit of a shock to her but he'd been idly contemplating her place in all this now for a while. But since he, Frog and Aymeric were all technically single or on a break or whatever Estinien thought he was doing while ghosting Aymeric for his own mental health SB > ShB patches, there weren't any of those connections to actually like. Build anything on.)
Fast forward to Endwalker, and I'm fully on the "Ysayle needs to know she won and Estinien has gone full dragonfucker" train, because he and Vrtra are an incredible power couple and it really represents to me a sort of final stop on Estinien needing to come to terms with everything that happened to him ever in his life and having accepted all sides of both the grand scope of history and also his own relationship to dragons, Nidhogg, and relations with dragons. He returns to R-a-H post-EW very very intrigued by what Vrtra wants with him, and they pretty much immediately get together.
I think by this point he's also encountered Aymeric enough times to have started to realise they never really broke up so much as stopped seeing each other, and Aymeric is exactly as devoted to him as he was last time they met, and Estinien only actually feels guilty about avoiding him so long, and mostly because Ishgard itself gives him the heebie jeebies immediately after HW and nothing to do with what Aymeric has done or not. So he's completely ready to resume that and just needs an excuse.
Which of course is Vrtra suggesting gently that there's a valuable connection there for Estinien and for the future of the two cities. AND Frog is on his case about seeing if Vrtra wants to meet the Dravanian dragons. Which he does. And then it only belatedly occurs to him when standing in Ishgard with Aymeric that maybe Frog also was manoeuvring. (I actually credit more G'raha machinations that Frog enacted, if you dig deeper :P)
Aymeric sort of ends up the orbiting twin star to the centre of the Frogicule, since he's the connection to all that and brings this whole side in, and considering all the pining on Frog's side to others, he's really got the more stable side of it all somehow...
She's glad of it because most of why she broke Aymeric's heart in the first place post-HW is because she thought it was cruelly unfair how little time she could spare for him and that he would only be mistreated by her coming in and out of his life at random.
The solution? A SECOND partner who comes in and out of his life at random and has very little tolerance for being in Ishgard! \o/ Between the two of them, maybe they add up to one full time partner?
(cue both of them getting on ships to Tural without consulting each other)
I don't think she goes out of her way to avoid seeing Estinien and Aymeric at the same time or finds it at all uncomfortable (low boundaries between them after all), but also she and Estinien are mutually uninterested in each other romantically and only passingly physically so aren't really interested in anything more than perhaps sharing a bed for platonic sleeping with a nice comfy buffer of Aymeric. It's easier just to enjoy spending time with them doing fun things like hanging out in the Firmament chatting to dragons and eating fair food, then take her catboy and leave. To the catboy's eternal disappointment. (Sorry G'raha, now this post isn't about you and we're talking Estinien today!)
Aymeric is here at this party realising he'd bed literally anyone there including Big!Varshahn (jury out on how he'd take to actual dragonfucking but it's like. A Catholic guilt loophole meeting a dragon who looks like a guy.) I don't think Vrtra and Aymeric are quite ready for anything but the simple fact of his existence is like an accessory that's making Estinien 1000x hotter in Aymeric's eyes I guess. Ser, that's a fellow head of state, please stop objectifying him.
Aymeric can not believe his luck that in a matter of months he's gone from staring forlornly out of a window alone to glancing between his hot girlfriend and his hot boyfriend, and is suddenly thrilled to go down in history as Ishgard's most eligible bachelor (never married, so many close friendships, all his letters and diaries spontaneously combusted on his death, how sad).
... as stated before, I am such a fan of Aymeric being a messy bitch who lives for drama and also is full of Secret Yearning and Weird Thoughts and would do wildly unstable things while projecting an aura of control and calm. Literally who knows if five to ten actual years down the line he and Vrtra end up publically married to unite their countries forever or something, but for now, this is where we're at.
Frog is just happy everyone is happy, and lacking the Ishgardian upbringing had given zero thought to Vrtra as a sex object and actively restricts herself from patting big!Varshahn on the head like he is still tiny. Little-brother-gender dragon snares another big sister. Estinien's love life remains a blissful mystery to her except for occasionally comparing calendars with Aymeric and swerving around the weekends he's blocked off for Estinien.
#ffxivpolyamweek24#ffxivpolyamoryweek2024#ffxiv#endwalker spoilers#shadowbringers spoilers#stormblood spoilers#heavensward spoilers#vrtra#estinien varlineau#aymeric de borel#g'raha tia#bounding frog#posing in the firmament is great because there's 10000000 actors in the open world but also terrible#because people will be running up to Ehll Tou with custom deliveries#posed at 8am GMT on an American server :P
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can I just say …. how absolutely enthralled I am with your content … it’s not often I find someone who writes DARK dark content, I’m not saying that it’s bad n all but I find most dark content fics nowadays to not give me that sense of toxic or possessive love supposedly radiating from the s/os but with yours I can definitely experience the tingles and I love ittt!
also .. can I say how much I LOVE the pregnancy trope in media? **especially** if it’s forced or just accidental but they make u keep it anyways .. not sure if it’s implied the fetus is gone or not, but I’m excited to see where the next chapter takes us!!
Wow okay hello! Thank you so much, you're very sweet! It's rather funny that you say that about this series in particular, because Idia is insistent that he does not love his kitten lmao.
I apologize for rambling here, but regarding the toxic/possessive love thing, I think about it like this: the driving force behind an action will translate into said action whether the person wants it to, or not. I also grew up reading copious amounts of toxic or taboo fanfiction and stories. For instance, I remember when Infatuation was still getting weekly updates. Not sure if that helps or shows in any way, shape, or form, but The Dimensional Tune series and anything written by Rita Redswood (Darkened Warrior) also really lent to my creative exploration as a teenager. Wattpad has really gone downhill now, huh?
Beyond that, I am personally absolutely terrified of bearing a child. It is one of the only forms of horror that actually gets to me in a very genuine way. The very concept of having a life grow inside of you, whether you want it to or not, is nightmarish, not to mention the way that people who happen to birth a child are very often boiled down to simply being a womb with legs following bearing the baby. Not sure if that's a thing that happens everywhere, but a lot of birthing parents that I've been around have had their entire personalities removed in a social way and not by themselves following their children's spawning. Imagine having your personage ignored and deleted by people who knew you before you had a kid?
You caught me at an interesting time since I'm seriously trying to figure out what the next thing I want to post is. I have a few too many ideas bouncing around (read: four or so) Gonna put this next bit under a cut so no one gets spoiled if they aren't caught up on the Pants on Fire series.
Anyhow, what I'm getting at is that there is another part planned for the Pants on Fire series, so hopefully it answers any other questions or thoughts that happen to cross your minds. Also! To clarify, no, the fetus is still forming in the reader, miraculously so after that shock. They didn't get past their cervix with the hanger, either, possibly from trepidation or a loose grip. It's up for interpretation, but I absolutely should have been more clear. Later, when Idia said he would take care of their "little problem twofold," he was, in fact, talking about going back to The Isle of Woe for abortion/more permanent contraceptive purposes.
#twisted wonderland#tw: dark content#tw: dark themes#anon asks#anon answered#thank you for sending an ask!!#the blot talks!#yandere idia shroud#pants on fire#tw abortion#tw accidental pregnancy
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So I wrote this bit of meta/speculation regarding Pen back in February but hesitated on posting it for a variety of reasons. I figured I'd post it after playing the recent update because some of my suspicions were correct. I haven't edited any of it because, frankly, I don't want to because I messed with it so much that I honestly wouldn't know where to start on fixing things.
Anyway here's some stuff I've noticed about Pen. Spoilers for the The Secrets Behind The Mask update of MTAS and Major Spoilers for My Time At Portia.
So a couple days ago I went down a rabbit hole pertaining to Pen. It started with a character from Portia and then snowballed into a loose analysis of the game events and possibly where they might take the story. It's very inconclusive, and I'm not really dedicated to any one idea of where the story will go or how certain characters will develop. I'm simply speculating here because speculating is fun.
Y'all are free to disagree as I know I'm not good at knowing where the story is going at all (I guessed wrong about who the spy for Logan was :')). I'd appreciate input or other theories though. At the very least, some of this might be entertaining muse fuel or a headcanon.
So one thing I stumbled upon while looking at Pen's wiki is under the Trivia section:
[Image ID: A screenshot of the Trivia section of Pen's wiki page. It reads as follows:
The word on his chest armor is "Justice" (正义, zhèng-yì).
According to Chinese version his full name is Péng Hǔ (彭虎) . Pen (彭) is his family name.
Hu (虎) means tiger. /.End ID]
After we meet with Logan and find out that Grace has been working with him (and that Grace is a secret agent for the Ataran government) we find out that there's a Duvos spy in Sandrock. Grace's people intercepted a message under the code name "Tiger" that they were targeting the water tower.
Other folks have pointed this out on the Steam discussion forums and believe that Pen's name translating to "Tiger" is a misdirect. Others think it might mean he's the Duvos spy due to the fact that a lot of the character's (Chinese) names pertain to aspects of their personality.
I'm personally on the fence about it. There's a lot I don't know about Pen, and I'm not sure if anything is really revealed about his past in some dialogue I missed (started a new save specifically to take a better look at things again since it's been a couple months). But currently, I really don't know anything about Pen's background.
All that aside, I find it very interesting that this game takes place shortly before the events of Portia. If you've played Portia, you'll know that they also have a Duvos agent in their midst called the Rogue Knight. After defeating the Rogue Knight, it was strongly suggested that he was Aadit; a resident of Portia that was a refugee from the border between Duvos and Elthea.
I'm not going to get into whether or not Aadit was actually the Rogue Knight just because both of their wikis explain there's contradictory information. But it's more commonly accepted by ppl in fandom that he was (from what I've noticed anyway).
I'm bringing this up mainly because.... isn't it kinda weird that both Portia and Sandrock are having issues with a Duvos agent almost around the same time?
One of the things I find interesting about Sandrock is how they flipped a lot of character's personalities compared to Portia. Example: Gale is very confident as a mayor compared to Trudy. Higgins is such a hard working builder that he's standing outside the door of the commissions office just so he can get first pickings of the commissions on the board, and you can often see him at the furnace stations next to his workshop. Meanwhile, Yan implies not so subtly that he barely even works, and most of the time you find him in the office with his feet kicked up on the table; never at the worktable next to his house.
Let's say that Aadit is the Rogue Knight and that Pen is a Duvos spy. Aadit is a soft spoken, polite pacifist that you can lose friendship with if you challenge him one too many times to a fight. Meanwhile Pen is loud, rude, confident, and loves to fight.
The contradictions in characterization are there, but do they mean anything? Probably not. Even if Pen was designed to contrast Aadit, it doesn't necessarily mean he's aligned with Duvos.
There's much we don't know about Aadit, and the fact that Pathea has been so cagey about him kind of makes me think that if he doesn't make a cameo in Sandrock, we're probably going to see him further along the line. They said as much in the FAQ of their kickstarter for Sandrock:
What’s happened to Aadit? Is he ever coming back to Portia?
Aadit’s story is left open so that we may be able to explore it down the road. Hopefully we’ll see him return to Portia one day.
(Tho them saying "Portia" makes me wonder if they're interested in making a sequel to Portia?)
And as I mentioned earlier, there's a lot we don't know about Pen either.
One thing worth pointing out is that it's very interesting Pen has a relic weapon on him considering the Rogue Knight himself uses a relic weapon.
After The Perfect Trap mission in My Time At Portia, Django asks you what it was like fighting the Rogue Knight. When you answer "He was using ancient weapons" he replies:
Oh was he now, most knights these days use some type of relic. It's like their calling card. The real knights though, they don't need these corrupted things.
And when you ask him "What exactly is a knight?" He answers:
Didn't you have knights in Barnorock? Anyway, if you're lookin' for a history lesson, it's best you talk with Isaac. But knights are highly skilled warriors that defend the weak and balance the strong. Or that's how it's supposed to be. But nowadays…
What's interesting about these responses: Modern knights tend to use relic weapons, and that knights are highly skilled warriors that "defend the weak and balance the strong".
Pen's entire thing is that he's the Defender of Sandrock. And he has a relic weapon on him. Does this mean Pen is a knight?
Oddly enough, it's likely as Pen says as much when you speak to him once a day:
[Image ID: A screenshot of Pen with the caption of him saying: "Aren't you clad we have a knight in this town? Saving damsels and delivering justice. Of course, I'm talking about me. I'm the Protector of Sandrock." /.End ID]
Assuming Pen isn't just claiming or masquerading as a knight (considering he owns a relic weapon) could this mean he's actually working for Duvos similarly to the Rogue Knight in Portia?
I'm really on the fence about this. Pen's entire personality feels like a facade; a spy that hides in plain sight by being an egotistical windbag. A useful egotistical windbag, but a windbag nonetheless. I feel this is at least partially supported by the fact that some people write him off immediately because "he's too dumb to be a spy".
Yet at the same time.....If Grace is in Sandrock and is specifically there to help Logan find the Duvos spy, could there potentially be a third party who's also interested in helping. And if so, could that party potentially be Pen?
Probably the only bit of dialogue I've been able to find (so far) on Pen's background and why he's in Sandrock is what he says here:
[Image ID: A screenshot of Pen with the caption of him saying: "I bet you're wondering how did someone so awesome, me, end up in this unsavory place. Well, the Light told me to look after the weak, and guided me here. That's the short version." /.End ID]
Pen could be lying here considering he lies to you (almost unnecessarily) about why he wasn't present to stop Logan from destroying the water tower. Logan not only says he was there, but he was also the one responsible for destroying the water tower.
It's possible it could be just as Grace says; that he lied to avoid being blamed for destroying the water tower. But I also think if he was being honest about it, he would have to explain how he destroyed the water tower. Yes, he's a very good fighter, but the water tower literally exploded.
But let's consider he's being honest about his reasons for being in Sandrock. Judging by the way he's speaking, the "Light" he's speaking of is related to The Church of Light..... Could it be possible that he was sent by a church to Sandrock to find the Duvos spy? More specifically, could he have been sent by the High Temple in Meidi, seeing as how Meidi literally borders Duvos, making it likely that they would have easier access to information on what Duvos is doing?
I personally don't think this is likely due to the fact that Pen is intent on going after Logan. Pen alleged that he only saw Logan flee after the church collapsed while attempting to rescue Howlett. But what if he didn't? Perhaps he's going after Logan because he thinks he knows something more (particularly that there's a Duvos spy in Sandrock, and that's something that could potentially compromise him). Because the alternative in this situation is him going after Logan under the suspicion that he's the spy, which makes no sense given he's a native of Sandrock and just lost his father.
I'll end on the last thing I noticed about Pen's concept art. The pose is very similar to that of the Rogue Knight's concept art:
I was pretty reluctant to point this out because it's just a pose and this particular thing feels a bit too much like "reading too deeply into things. Especially since Arlo and Justice share similar poses, and even Logan's pose is reminiscent of the above pose. I just thought I would mention it because it threw me when I noticed how similar they were when I was looking at the thumbnails on my phone.
Just to be clear: I don't think Pen is the Rogue Knight or Aadit. I mean, I would be interested in them proving me wrong. But due to the fact that these games take place closely around the same time, I don't think it's feasible that the two are the same person.
I would, however, be interested to know if there's indeed a connection considering how some of Pen's facial characteristics are reminiscent of Aadit's, but I'd rather not speculate that far. Especially considering it hasn't been canonically confirmed that Aadit is the Rogue Knight (and we don't know where Pen grew up).
Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Like I said, I'm not really dedicated to one line of thought. It just tickles my brain. I would like to talk more about the stories Pen, Burgess, and the others gave about the night Howlett died and compare it to Logan's. But for now I'll just end on this.
#my time at sandrock#my time at sandrock spoilers#mtas spoilers#mtas meta#mtas speculation#mtas pen#mainly posting this for myself bc it's been languishing in my drafts for months#and i don't want to delete it because i spent too much time on it
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So is Madoka actually happy, not just content, as the Law of Cycles? Because as I gather there's a lot of material strongly suggesting she just straight up isn't.
Director Shinbo has said something to the effect of the outcome of the TV series, "a human becoming a god" might be too heavy a fate for a girl in middle school to bear, the lyrics of Mata Ashita (the end song for the first 2 episode) might be... somewhat telling, becoming the LoC is directly called a fate worse than death in the original series, it's been strongly implied in various side materials (and directly by the MagiReco game apparently) that the LoC isn't actually much of an afterlife, more like a long peaceful sleep like some interpretations of the Buddhist concept of Nirvana, and Madoka herself doesn't actually have regular contact with the girls in her care outside of missions and such, and of course the old concept movie had the "what is happiness" thing about how God is denied the simple pleasures of life.
She might be watching over everyone she cares about but that isn't really a... relationship if her friends and family that aren't magical girls simply don't know she exists.
well thats a good question! because i don't think there is an incredibly definitive canonical answer. not a simple solid yes or no anyway.
one thing i did before writing "be not afraid" (which i assume is what ur here from?) was watch a video of ultimate madoka's quotes from magia record to get a feel for how she spoke in that form. one thing she stated repeatedly was that she absolutely did not regret her decision, she was happy with it. but being happy with her decision does not necessarily translate to her being happy in general. in fact one particularly heartbreaking line was about how she could see her brother drawing by himself and was sorry that she couldn't play with him.
so the argument that madoka is satisfied with her wish but it regardless comes at the expense of her happiness in almost the same way that devil homura exists is a very interesting thought.
I think because in canon these concepts are so immensely complex but our knowledge about how exactly they exist is somewhat vague, there are lots of different ways u can interpret it.
My personal depiction (which i fully admit to containing plenty of speculation) is this:
Madoka is absolutely lonely and not always happy as the loc. but she isn't in a constant state of happiness or sadness anymore than when she is a human. the thing about madoka kaname is that her happiness throughout the series is dependent on how much she's HELPING OTHERS. of course she becomes god as a middle schooler human girl, but in becoming the loc, she becomes something other than human. being in that state of nirvana, in that state of otherness, i can't imagine that the feelings and thoughts of this immense concept she becomes can translate directly into human ideas of happiness or sadness, i can't imagine emotions being completely definitive in a being of such immense power with infinite facets. she is in a constant state of helping people tho, and the human madoka that is left must be happy, not just content, about that. She is aware of everyone she loves, she can see them at all times and watch over them, and i think a contradiction occurs here where she is glad she can watch over them but at the same time there must be a part of her that misses them.
i know this is all very abstract. but put in simpler terms madoka is the embodiment of hope while she is in the form of the loc. i imagine she must feel hopeful and if she is constantly hopeful and purposeful then that has to prelude to happiness in an overall sense too despite everything else
so my final answer as to whether madoka is happy as the loc is: it's... complicated😭
#yes and no essentially *wah wah wah trombone sound effect*#thank u very much for asking tho!#i'm always happy to analyze pmmm#it is fairly late here and i'm running on not that much sleep so i hope this makes any kind of sense 😭#i have lots of thoughts about this but they're all disconnected and tangential and not completely relevant lol#it would take an essay to get my complete thoughts on the matter across i think
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Are we not Engaged? Part 5
Spoilers under the cut
-Dragon loli Azura is getting attacked by Corrupted.
-She’s looking for her sister. Alear 100%
-What does getting Sommie to max joy do anyways? Oh well, making the littler bugger happy is fun XD
-Alear Yunaka C: I can’t stop hearing Ahri when Yunaka talks lol. “I’ve merc’d a time or two,” okay that was legitimately nice word play. Honestly, I like Yunaka most when she slips into killer mode when she scores crits. I’m probably trying to read too deep into her, but I’m curious where her real self starts and ends.
-Louis Yunaka C: Louis gives her tea. What is it with Firenans and tea. Louis asks Yunaka about her family, Yunaka kinda dodges the question and Louis tactfully withdraws. Not much happens here, but I suspect we’re building to something.
-Citrinne uses big hurty lightning \o/
-Celine Louis C: T E A. Celine likes to smell her tea. Louis knows where special tea is and Celine’s excited.
-Alcryst Citrine C: Citrine’s training, Alcryst praises her for it. She’s upset about not being strong enough for some reason.
-Hmm, seems I can’t actually take master seals into battle, that’s interesting.
-On to Brodia castle and chapter 8.
-Oh wow, Brodia castle looks even harder to take than Firene castle.
-Diamant is coming to greet us, hopefully he doesn’t take a shot at us or try to start an international incident.
-There’s something off-puting about Diamant’s eyes.
-Morion’s voice actor is terrible.
-Diamant apparently argues with Morion not to leave the castle. What, is he not capable of defending himself in this kingdom of might? Also the game actually froze in the middle of Morion’s dialogue for a bit, I never had that happen in Three Houses.
-It happened again lol.
-Morion just tosses Roy’s ring at Diamant, wtf... I know I’m supposed to see him as good-hearted and friendly, but he’s just acting like a another doofus.
-Here’s Roy. Thank god his summoning tune wasn’t a remix of Beyond the Fucking Sky. Or at least not one I recognized.
-Oh hey, here Ivy. “She’s dodging all our wyverns’ attacks.” We’ll see if that translates to gameplay lol.
-Ivy’s gonna take my life and my soul. Oh boy, more edgy cliches. At least she’s not as annoying as Hortensia. Oh she’s actually remorseful.
-Oohhh, the Sage Lord was Leif.
-Oh christ I already don’t like Amber.
-Citrinne got a Constance level! \o/ Oh well, with her meh base speed she might as well quadruple-down on poking. Besides, I have Celine when I need a monster-fast mage (17 speed roflmao)
-Etie’s decision to just really really stupid strong worked out when she dealt Zelkov a crushing 22 damage with a crappy Longbow, lol.
-Zelkov is like he's trying to be Hubert but he doesn't realize part of the charm is Hubert just embraces who he is and also takes it out for a romantic evening. At least he’s not lacking in noticeable character traits like Kagetsu.
-”With this ring, nothing and no-one will take me down.” They all say that. Then I send Celine after them.
-We got Leif \o/
-”Emblem of Genealogy” I really fucking hate how Leif is representing Genealogy Gen 2 rather than Thracia.
-”How could I have failed,” you flew straight into an ambush.
-Wait, did we just let Ivy leave???
-King Hyacinth is trying to challenge Morion into combat.
-Morion is toss around death flags like crazy. No idea why Diamant is so afraid when Brodia has been at war with Elusia for ages.
-Diamant is boring as shit as a character. Morion’s supposed to be jolly and fun but he’s just an idiot.
-Finally we reference whether or not Alear can turn into a dragon. She absolutely will before the end.
-Oh my god, Catherine’s alive and she got old and came to Brodia!!!
-Celine Alear B: TEA. Seems bandits are attacking tea trade routes. What is it with Firenans and tea. Eve is sending Celine after the bandits because... she knows the most about tea? What? Alear asks what she’ll do, Celine says she’ll “drive them off with pranks”. Celine, you’re like my best soldier, just go kill them all \o/ Celine laments that real life isn’t so fanciful, then she raises things to 11 by saying she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her people. I mean I have her burn my foes to death easily but eh.
-Oh nice this game carries over Echoes’s weapon transformation system. Except unlike Echoes it gives you materials at better than a drip-feet.
-Framme Chloe A: Oh my god, it’s still the same scene. Framme accidentally gave Chloe a sandwich of fried bugs. This is literally just their B support being repeated!
-Celine Etie B: T E A. Turns out Alfred almost died when he was young and Celine had to toughen up because of it. Etie’s hand is still trembling. Oh she’s using her weird weighted teacups again. Celine’s handled cannonballs???
Celine Alcryst C: Celine’s out late because she can’t sleep. She admits to having recurring nightmares due to lingering trauma of when Alfred was sickly, Alcryst says he fears Diamant dying too. This one was legitimately a good support convo, it’s like something from 3H.
-Citrine Clanne C: Citrinne bugs me, she’s trying to be a refined mature lady but she’s got the same babyface as the other girls. Clanne’s trying to help a withered wildfowe, Citrinne is pleased for it. I think this has something to do with her obsession with getting stronger.
-Oohh, gold corrupted. I wanna see what that’s all about.
-Oh no, the fog of war is back.
-Alear Alcryst C: Alear almost gets ambushed... by a wolf. Alcryst asks the wolf to leave Alear alone... and then begs it to leave... This is worse than anything Bernadetta ever did.
-I began a relay just now. Later I shall see what the ignorant masses achieve with my incredible Louis, Celine, and Chloe.
-Celine Alcryst B: Turns out Morion stupidly made Alcryst worry that his father and brother will die. Alcryst goes to check Diamant whenever he’s woken by his nightmares. They pledge to support each other.
-Alcryst Diamant C: They’re sparring. Diamant is mostly trying to help out Alcryst’s mindset, but Alcryst is stubbornly pessimistic. It ends on Alcryst wondering if Diamant has any weaknesses.
-Alcryst Lapis C: Alcryst vows to protect Lapis because he thinks he’s worthless, but it makes Lapis really uncomfortable.
-Vander Amber C: Vander is devoted and stuff, Amber’s stupidly looking for a legendary weapon he thinks might be at the Somniel because he’s Amber and he’s stupid. Vander tells Amber he needs to make a weapon legendary by becoming legendary.
That’s all for now, next will be chapter 9.
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Kochi Bienalle, 2023
I always look forward to visiting Kochi Bienalle because my art consumption is usually not much, and it just feels good to take time off to walk around and look at art for a few days at a stretch. However, the Bienalle this time felt a little timid when it came to seeing installation art and video work. Video work is anyway a difficult space to be in as a spectator because a chunk of the work requires you to have plenty of time and dedication to engage with. But on the other hand, the artist too at times falls short of checking their boundaries of self-indulgence and aims away from what makes art effective. What makes an art piece effective? The answer definitely doesn't lie in the verbose artist statements for me. I find them difficult to read, and by the end of the very first paragraph, you start skipping words and jump onto the floating mammoth issues of gender, caste, consciousness, etc. I am not against art being an inquiry into the larger issues, but the art itself needs to have some gateways of open spaces where the audience can find some rope for grasping at interpretations. If the art is obscure (I understand that art is subjective), then it becomes a tough glass to see through. I have been mulling over this thought of creating a checklist on what makes art effective?
01. Scale is a big agent in playing with altering perspective. It tries to question how you are looking at a subject, and it feels like a good starting point to let the reader/spectator/ audience walk into what the art is about.
02. Let the art borrow something from the shared understanding and knowledge of the commoners. If all your metaphors are too close to your own, then there is no doorway for others to enter it.
03. This is a rule I try to follow personally for illustration or any idea for that matter, but I don't see why it can't be applied to Art too. Try not to layer too many thoughts/metaphors/ideas in one single piece. The art then becomes a raw, watered-down attempt where you are grasping for too many meanings and not holding onto a single one.
04. It's okay for art to be an enquiry of the medium and not have a larger problem to address. Sometimes you are just intrigued by the play of the medium itself and any other imposition of a question feels like a burden.
05. Write simply and effectively what your piece is about as an artist. Stick to a single or at most two paragraphs. The larger bodies of text can be looked at later in a booklet if somebody is eager to know more. To see three or four paragraphs of text for every single piece becomes tiring for the reader.
06. It could have been a book. Not every piece is meant to be an exhibit. A research project output has to go through translations where it's not occupying exhibition space as just raw material. It needs to be synthesised and then put together in a way that lets the spectator grasp the larger picture first before jumping into the micro details.
07. Lastly, engaging with so much art in a short span is not a doable feat. Maybe it's a futile attempt to alter anything when the audience in general is quick to move on from one piece to the other. But the question still arises and is worth pondering over as to what is then an effective display of an art piece when put together with so many other pieces.
I am a nobody in the art world and I am pretty sure art connoisseur will roll their eyes if they ever read this. But I genuinely feel that maybe it's worth understanding whether an art exhibition is purely for the artist or it's for the spectator too.
I chanced upon a few exhibitions happening outside the umbrella of the Bienalle, and some of the work actually felt honest and a genuine attempt because it spoke to you directly without being verbose.
I took plenty of photos on my phone too as a goofy attempt to spot peculiarities found in the bylanes of Fort Kochi. Dumping it here as reference material for the future.
Not everything can be written off about the Bienalle though. I found the photography work quite strong this time around, maybe because I am being more observant of the craft and what makes a photo good. The work of photographers I really appreciated this Bienalle were - Shahidul Alam, Madiha Aijaz, Palani Kumar, Paribartana Mohanty, Nishad Ummer, and Ishan Tankha.
I was relatively new to photography and experimentation, in those days, meant special effects, filters, darkroom tricks. There was something more substantial though. In trying to use black and white infra red film, I learnt an important skill. The ability to pre-visualise. Quite apart from the fact that I used an opaque filter to take this photograph and couldn't see through the shutter as I pressed it. The image that I wanted to create was very different from the scene that was in front of my lens. I was learning to see as my camera and film see. I called the picture, which I'd taken in Kew Garden in London, the 'Floating Forest' and it has stayed one of my favourite images. Shortly afterwards many of the trees in Kew Garden were felled by a massive storm.
The work of Amol K Patil resonated strongly with how close it went to show the spirit of angst and rebellion through clever tweaks of the medium.
Here's just an assorted dump (alas, the tumblr image limit) of photos of exhibits I really found appealing.
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My thoughts for a rewrite for Yo-Kai watch Blastes 2 rewrite.
Recently i have been thinking about one of my main problems with Yo-kai watch (besides the fanbase on twitter) and that would be the Bundory family being perpetually trapped in Blasters 2 and specifically how i do have a rewrite in my head.
My main problem here is that because B2 has been disregarded they have been stuck there since. I know that Gowin, Catleen and Dandory have reappeared in Puni Puni but apart from that the rest of the family haven't appeared in any game since 2017. I feel like there should have been some sort of crossover with Yo-kai watch 3 as B2 is based on the treasure blasters mode from it and it would've possibly given them a bit more acknowledgement as well as possibly having localised names. I mean recently i found out that the family name has a spanish translation (Familia Feliante, apparently) on the wiki but am unsure whether this is legitimate or if someone was bored one day and decide to mess around.
I do favour Dandory over the rest as he is the main one, but over the years I have rewritten him inside my head, like i thought about this alot during 2020 and within the last year or so i've tried to make it more cohesive. I just like him and i don't know why, an unfortunately most of the results that come up for him online are f*tish art of him (on an unrelated note i wish that Charlie and the chocolate factory was never written)
(note that in this rewrite i have made Dandory 15 and have also aged the human characters up to 15 as well, because most shows sort of show 15 year olds fighting god at this point or something)
This is a basic outine.
Anyway my rewrite essentially goes that Catleen had made a deal with Kanendesu that it would take her first born child, but eventually she kept evading it with her family and having the other three children. However, Kanendesu eventually catches up to her and as punishment, possesses her before going off to the island where B2 takes place. This leaves Dandory with the family and his life becomes a living hell. Eventually Gustaf, tips him off about Nate so that he could go to him for help, and so Dandory flees to Springdale in the night, ending up collapsed on a random street only for Katie to trip over him in the morning. This then leads into the events of B2 but with Nate, Katie and Hailey exploring the temples with Dandory to find his mother. Eventually when they do find Catleen, and that she is currently possessed by Kanendesu, the other Bundory Family members reach them and in the squabble that ensues Kanendesu releases its control on Catleen and goes straight for Dandory and possesses him, leading to him being the first phase of the final boss.
So what else would i change and what would i keep?
Firstly he is still going to be the brains of the group as he would know the most about the temples that they will be going into.
Obviously with the mention of Nate, Katie and Hailey, they are the protagonists of this rewrite, I have more ideas for why Katie has a watch but not how the game explains it, but i also want to see Nate interact with humans more. This would also be a way to show Dandory healthier family relations.
Dandory isn't an actual criminal in this and was simply being used behind the scenes, when this is found out, Gowin is arrested (though he would eventually break out again).
Dandory is enrolled in the human's School afterwards and has to go by the name "Danny" whilst there, and is taken in by the Forester family (I would need to explain Katie and her family"s relationships with Yo-kai in the rewrite). The school in this is not the elementary school and is instead a high school for the arts.
Thats really all i have for now. This week i really have been thinking about how theres a lot of things that i would change in Yo-Kai watch. I haven't really kept up with the series in a while and i dont really follow anything from Shadowside onwards because its all kind of strange and I don't understand it (like what is a sorananki and why arte there three different versions of it and why is one kind of hot?). But Dandory will always have a special place in my heart and I really wish we got to see more of him and his family. There is his dragon variant and red cursed variant in puni puni but they are not exactly him. I don't care if he's a criminal or not, he deserved better from the narrative. Again just like with my previous Knight Light post i do want to think morer closely about this rewrite that i have as there is a lot that i want to say in regards to this series (Such as how Nate barely has friends like the most he interacts with other humans in the main story events are with his future daughter and so kid from the 60's) but thats all i have on Dandory for now.
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I love my town - Personal context
THIS IS ME RAMBLING MY INNER THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS BECAUSE I'M STUCK IN A WHIRL WIND OF CONCEPT FOR THIS PROJECT AND MOTIVE IN LIFE SINCE STARTING THIS ILLUSTRATION COURSE AND MOVING TO THE BIG APPLE.
IT DID HELP TO WRITE DOWN ALL MY THOUGHTS AND I PROMISE ITS RELEVANT.
I think its important to discuss my perspective on the project through the lens of my perspective on life at this moment. The title of the project is 'i love my town'. Straight away this brought about questions on where MY town was and whether I loved it. Quintessentially the answer was 'not Elephant and Castle' and 'no.'
Considering the documentary video by Mark Leckey, recommended in the course brief, there is a weird part of my mind which feels isolated from any town as I grew up in the same place as Leckey, the Wirral, so I actually relate to his thought process on place. Being so close yet so far from the cultural hub of Liverpool and being separated from that identity. Instead,I bounced between the washed up hole of degradation that is Birkenhead where my family lived and a small town on the middle class side of the Wirral where we had moved to. I never felt comfortable in either for many reasons. We didn't know anyone who lived in the area I grew up apart from my school friends, but I also didn't know anyone where my family lived because as I grew up I became an outsider. I was kind of balanced between these two places within Wirral. It's a weird place and I'm sure many people have experienced a similar thing. So I think this an interesting context for what MY town has been before I moved to London.
In moving to South London I am also acutely aware of the process of gentrification in my new town. This is something I don't totally understand as a concept as I'm coming from outside of the process but also because It's defined in so many ways. Regeneration? Reshaping? Putting money to an area? Displacement? Price hiking? Change? Destruction? One thing I can say though is that Elephant and Castle has been a kind of hub of gentrification in London. I'm aware of this because my Mum and my Step-Nan before her squatted in here like 30-50 years before my arrival so I know things have changed, as well as with some research into campaign groups active in the area. But again, this isn't my first hand perspective because I've kinda arrived at a time when the process is like way far down the line.
I understand that this fairly short project is about me getting to know a greasy spoon on the outskirts of the town center called 'The Workingman's Cafe' but I'm aware that doesn't translate my experience of the area. I only commute to Elephant and Castle so I really only see the center and even if I did want to explore I wouldn't say that's were I'd go because it's like a 15 minute walk past a whole host of Latin American loveliness. I live in Tooting so I'm trying to get to know that area too. I also felt out of place in the Workingman's Cafe around like a constant stream of builders and hyper masculinity. There's possibly some snobbery in that but to be honest I'm just not interested in the Cafe and it doesn't inspire my artistic process. I did enjoy the idea of the broken window and the people going about their day to day experiences discussing their lives and gossiping about other peoples. I enjoyed that experience. BUT. As soon as my brain starts ticking into art mode I force myself to think, but does that have any socio-political relevance? Does this help anyone? Does it give a finger to the establishment? And if it doesn't I feel a sense of guilt and missed duty or opportunity.
I will quickly just go over the reason why I'm obsessive about politics in my art. My brother is an activist, a self dubbed revolutionary, the person who threw the egg at the king!
I've learnt for a long time that I should be expressing discontent for the systems injustices in anyway that I can. This makes me look at illustration in the eyes of political satire or a kind of observational tell it how it is a lot of the time. I think a part of this ethnographic reseach has to be to tell it how it is, so I think for this project I'm going to observe through the eyes of an uncertain 18 year old, new to London and kind of in a confused self retrospective state of mind. ]
Oh I'm in luck!
Without wanting my project to turn out too dark I feel like conveying this atmosphere is important for me right now.
Now back to my thoughts on gentrification, the reality is I don't know! But i can sense an emptiness in this area. Its a roundabout, what am i missing? How can i love the area when I don't know it? Is it just a construction sight? I sent a message to @latinelephant to try and get some answers. And In the meantime started work on an A4 image of the only place I know in the area. The bus stop.
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voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words
s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?
c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst
t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)
n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!
YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.
As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.
“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”
You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”
“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”
He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”
“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”
“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”
You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”
“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”
“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”
He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”
“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”
Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”
You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”
It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.
In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.
Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.
Until his voice was gone.
It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.
Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.
Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”
You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”
Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”
You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.
You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.
You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”
“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”
You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”
Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”
You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.
You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.
With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.
“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.
You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.
“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”
You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.
“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”
“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.
Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”
“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”
Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.
For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.
“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.
You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”
-
PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.
The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.
In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”
“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”
“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”
“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.
You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.
“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”
Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.
“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”
You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”
He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”
You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”
It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.
The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”
“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”
You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.
The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”
Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.
Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”
“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”
You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”
Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.
When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.
He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”
Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”
He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”
“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.
You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”
“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”
“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.
“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.
“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.
“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”
You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.
After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”
You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.
Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.
-
OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.
The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.
It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.
For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.
However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.
You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.
In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.
You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.
Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.
“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.
“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”
He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.
So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”
“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”
“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”
“What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”
“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.
“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”
“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”
He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”
You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.
“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.
“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”
“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”
“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”
You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?
Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.
You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.
He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.
-
ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.
You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.
“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”
“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.
Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”
“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.
“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine—”
“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”
You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”
You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.
“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”
You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”
You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”
You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.
“Where should we set them?” He asked.
You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”
The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.
“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.
You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”
He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”
“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”
You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.
“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”
“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.
“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.
“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”
“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”
You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.
“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.
It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”
“I said, why do you hate me so much?”
You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”
He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”
“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.
“Well, what’s the issue then?”
“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.
“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”
Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.
“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”
“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”
You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.
“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.
He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”
You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
-
THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.
Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.
However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.
Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.
“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”
“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”
“What do you mean?”
You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.
“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.
“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”
He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”
You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”
“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.
A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.
Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”
“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”
You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.
“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”
“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”
“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”
You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.
He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”
Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.
The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.
“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.
You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.
“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.
“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.
“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.
What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.
He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.
“Should we run away?”
Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.
Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.
“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”
With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”
You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.
“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.
“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”
You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.
But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.
-
IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.
With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.
“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”
You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.
The singing stopped. “Y/N?”
“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.
“Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.
You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.
You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.
“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.
“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.
“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”
He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”
“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.
He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”
“What did I say?”
“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.
“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”
He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”
“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”
“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.
You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”
The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”
“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”
You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”
“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”
“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”
“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”
You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.
“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”
Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”
You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”
You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.
“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”
You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.
“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”
“Yep. No answer.”
“Taehyun?”
“Nothing.”
“The professor?”
“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”
You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”
“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.
You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”
“Hey, we said we were starting over.”
You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”
Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”
He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.
Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.
If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.
He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.
“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.
“It was—”
“It was real pretty, kid.”
You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.
“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”
Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”
“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.
“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”
Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”
“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.
You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.
“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.
You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.
How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.
But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.
-
WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.
Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?
You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.
You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.
When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.
“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.
“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.
After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.
“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”
“That does not make me feel any better.”
“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”
You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.
“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”
“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.
“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.
You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.
“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.
You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”
For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.
“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.
“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”
“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”
You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.
“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.
He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.
“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”
He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.
“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”
“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.
“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”
“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”
He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.
“Y/N.”
“Hm?”
“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.
“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”
Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.
He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.
“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”
His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.
He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.
The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.
At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.
You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”
You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.
“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”
The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.
“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
-
IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.
You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.
Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.
The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.
Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.
“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.
“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”
Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”
You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.
You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.
“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.
“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”
“How about Beomgyu?”
Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.
“When did you get there?” You asked.
“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”
“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”
You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.
“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”
“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”
You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”
He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.
“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”
“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”
Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”
You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.
The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.
You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.
By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”
“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”
“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”
“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.
You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”
It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”
There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.
“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”
You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”
You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.
The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.
“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.
You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.
“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”
He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”
He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.
“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.
Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.
Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.
“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”
He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.
“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”
“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”
You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.
“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”
You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?
The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.
“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”
Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.
“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.
“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”
Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.
It was your soulmates voice.
You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.
But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.
You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.
“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”
With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.
You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.
Beomgyu was your soulmate.
Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.
Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.
“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.
You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.
“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”
“Y/N!”
Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.
You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?”
“That you’re my soulmate.”
He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.
“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”
You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”
He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.
“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.
You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”
The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.
The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.
“Should we run away?” He asked.
This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.
#txt fluff#txt imagines#txt oneshots#txt drabbles#txt scenarios#beomgyu au#beomgyu fluff#choi beomgyu#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu fic#txt fics#txt fic#yeonjun oneshot#yeonjun au#yeonjun drabbles#beomgyu drabble#beomgyu#soobin au#soobin oneshot#soobin scenarios#txt taehyun#taehyun drabble#taehyun au#hyuka#hueningkai au#hueningkai fluff#fanfic#soulmates au
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(google translate again, yeah)
(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)
I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?
I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.
I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...
Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)
Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.
In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...
What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.
salt up here, quotes below :
Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.
Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”
But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :
A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”
and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.
Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”
and again
Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”
Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts
Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.
jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:
“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”
-
Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”
“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”
“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.
He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :
Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”
It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :
“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”
A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.
Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”
Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”
After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.
WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.
[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”
“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....
Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”
“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”
“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."
WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.
"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never
WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :
When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”
Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.
From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.
he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.
This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?
Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”
“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”
Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”
“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!
“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”
Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.
Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :
“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.
“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”
Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.
“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”
BONUS
jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:
The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.
Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”
The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.
“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.
Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.
He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.
Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.
On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.
Translation source : x
#This is long af because I wanted to have one post where I included everything#I’ve bitched about jc’s behavior in the cloud recesses for a long time so it was time to put down the quotes#mdzs#Cloud Recesses#Lan Wangji#Wei Wuxian#Nie Huaisang#jiang cheng
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@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.
A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!
Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.
[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]
Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.
It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!
We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.
While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.
Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)
Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.
Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.
Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.
The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”
According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."
From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.
I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:
Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.
Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:
Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”
Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”
Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”
Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”
Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”
He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”
See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.
Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.
Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.
Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:
Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.
Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?
A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.
Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:
The mother of Mencius
Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.
With skill she selected a place to raise her son,
Prompting him to accord with the great principles.
When her son’s studies did not advance,
She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.
Her son then perfected his virtue;
His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.
I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.
Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.
Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.
Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.
I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)
Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.
So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)
But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:
Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.
But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)
Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.
So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.
Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.
At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.
Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?
Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!
#drinking game#take a shot every time i say 'finally'#this post refused to let me get to the end of it lol#i think because i'm extremely salty about fanon stage mom meng shi#(to not say tiger mom meng shi which crosses into outright racism. but i'm giving people the benefit of the doubt)
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been writing again. good to do so. not sure how i’ll release it yet.
thinking about the kishōtenketsu narrative structure, the thing that stands out to me is not necessarily the strict four beats, but the basic idea of the ten and ketsu steps. you introduce something new, and then tie it back into the story to reach some new conclusion. that new thing might often be a yet-unrevealed backstory (as in many flashback scenes in anime), but equally just some new information that you can use to reframe the story. it might not immediately be obvious how it’s relevant.
oddly, it reminds me of the oversimplified thesis-antithesis-synthesis schema that often stands in for Hegelian dialectics. since i don’t really understand what Hegel was on about myself, i will have to refer to that. in this correspondence, the ki and shō developments are the ‘thesis’, the ten is the ‘antithesis’, and the ketsu is the ‘synthesis’. the difference is perhaps the emphasis on opposition: the ten of kishōtenketsu isn’t necessarily a direct contrast with what came before, but something out of left field, whose relevance will be revealed in the ketsu step.
anyway, regardless of whether that correspondence has anything to it...
when using it to structure a story, it’s useful to think of this schema, because it helps you figure out exactly how a device like a flashback fits into the story. it’s setup and payoff, like a joke. whatever we see in the flashback had better be made relevant in the resolution of the scene, or why show it to us?
in anime the classic phrase you here when you tie these strands together is だから (dakara), which jisho.org gives such translations as:
so; therefore; accordingly; consequently; on those grounds; that is why; for that reason
this is typically delivered in an impassioned speech in which a character expresses their motivation as/before a climactic moment. “even though we were never treated with kindness, my little brother was always smiling! so that’s why...”
it’s a pretty effective device honestly. I actually saw an ad for... idk something?? once that played off this sort of familiar beat, it was some kind of post-apocalyptic scenario like in a mecha anime with a character giving that kind of speech about defending the earth, but i can’t figure out what it was or a search string to bring it back to me. ah well.
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Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate
I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!
lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.
I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)
wordcount: 9911
warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao
She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.
“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”
Harry.
What a magical name, she thought.
or
Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.
.
.
.
“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.
“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”
Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.
Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.
“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.
Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.
Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.
The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.
She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.
The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.
Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.
“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.
His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.
She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.
“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”
Harry.
What a magical name, she thought.
There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.
It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.
Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.
He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.
“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.
“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.
She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.
Well…
Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.
No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.
Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.
“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.
She likes him.
“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).
Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.
“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.
Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.
She really hopes it’s love.
“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.
“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.
Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.
“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.
Whatever this feeling was.
Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.
It was Y/n’s favorite color.
The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.
She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.
So she has to start slow.
“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.
Please need something, she hopes to herself.
He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.
* .
. * .
It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.
She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.
“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.
Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.
Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.
Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.
Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.
Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.
He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.
Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.
“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”
“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.
“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.
“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.
“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.
“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.
Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.
“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.
“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.
Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.
“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.
Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.
Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!
* .
. * .
The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.
The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).
In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.
He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.
Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.
Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.
“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”
“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”
“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”
He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.
As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.
That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.
Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.
Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.
Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).
Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.
Especially on a day like today.
Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.
A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.
Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.
To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?
The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”
“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.
“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.
“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.
He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…
They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.
“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.
“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).
“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”
“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.
“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.
Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.
“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.
“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.
“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.
“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.
“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.
“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.
“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”
“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.
A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.
“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”
Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.
It would still break her heart though.
“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.
“Is what normal?”
“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”
Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.
“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.
“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.
“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.
“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”
It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.
“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.
They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.
When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.
Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.
When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.
She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.
“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.
The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.
Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.
“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.
Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.
“This doesn’t freak you out?”
“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.
This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.
“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.
So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).
They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.
Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.
“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.
“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.
“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.
“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.
“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.
Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.
“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.
“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.
“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.
Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.
* .
. * .
“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.
“At the shop,”
“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.
“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.
“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.
A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?
“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.
She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!
“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.
“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”
She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.
“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.
“Thank you for being patient with me,”
He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.
“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.
“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.
She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.
But for right now, things were ok.
* .
. * .
“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”
(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)
Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.
As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.
Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”
His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.
When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).
“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.
“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.
“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.
“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.
“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.
Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.
“I feel weird…”
“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.
“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.
“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”
“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”
“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.
When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.
Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.
“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.
“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.
Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.
“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”
“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.
“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.
“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.
She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.
A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.
He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.
Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.
Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.
“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.
* .
. * .
Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.
And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).
So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.
No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.
That’s exactly what she does.
“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.
“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.
She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.
“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.
*(forget and sleep)
She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.
She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.
Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.
She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.
When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.
“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.
“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.
“Don’t think that’s possible.”
She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.
Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.
“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.
“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”
“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.
His cheeks flushed at her affection.
Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.
She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.
Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.
He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.
“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.
“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.
Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.
Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.
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