#Why would you limit your narrative options to just one story told the same way over and over again Tumblr posts

[quipxotic]

Ship characters or don't, either is fine, but don't fool yourself by thinking intense, lasting love and loyalty is only possible in romantic or sexual relationships. Friendships can be like that. Family ties (chosen or by blood) can be like that. If you haven't personally experienced either, that sucks, but it doesn't mean it isn't possible.

[extasiswings]

Hi! If buddie does go canon, I was wondering how you think the show will address buck's journey with his sexuality? I feel like a lot of the time, the fandom focuses on eddie's journey and his repression/coming out, and buck doesn't really get those same discussions. A lot of people just act like buck is already out or has dated men (especially in fic), but the show has never indicated that. Maybe he has been with men and the show could explore past biphobia or maybe buck has never considered it before and that leads to some kind of crisis.

Frankly, I don’t think the show is addressing either Buck or Eddie’s sexualities (at least not in an expected way) and I not only don’t think it’s necessary, I wouldn’t want them to. Because it’s something that is so sensitive and complex and so easy to do badly, especially in the context of an ensemble show in a visual medium. I recognize that a lot of people seem to think Eddie’s arc is some sort of “coming out” arc (in a very traditional sense), but I have a very different read on it—that while they are absolutely queercoding the shit out of this narrative, the point is not about the specifics of his sexuality but rather a journey about reimagining what is possible/stepping out of the narrow box of heteronormative assumptions recognizing that life, family, and especially love are allowed to look very different from what you were taught they had to be. And while Buck’s arc is less loud about it, those ideas are still there—for both of them, this journey is about missing the obvious options that are right under your nose because your own biases and assumptions about what the world has to look like have prevented you from seeing them.

There’s a reason why Eddie’s arc, in my opinion, has been less about the gender of the person he’s dating (because honestly I think he would have the same issues with dating if he were dating men) but about the fact that there is someone specific that he’s in love with already (Buck). And Buck’s is the same. Both of them are on paths of reckoning with their past relationships and the mistakes they made in those relationships and the ways they were hurt by them—Eddie has a lot of work to do letting go of Shannon in particular, who the show has always been explicit was his first love, and whose loss massively fucked him up—and once they can do that then they’ll be in a position where they’re ready to be together. But I don’t expect the show to label either of them or to address their sexualities at all beyond the fact that they’re in love with each other and have built a life together because the story they’re crafting is much more nuanced than that. And on an overarching narrative meta level, one of the things the show seems to be doing within these broader themes of questioning assumptions and reimagining what the world can look like, is challenging the audience to do the same, to think bigger, to imagine more, to look at where our blind spots are and why we’re limiting the scope of what we’re willing to see as possible. It’s one of the reasons I don’t buy the argument that Buddie canon can’t happen yet because neither of them have “come out” on screen—queer narratives in real life are not nearly so limiting and when we’re in territory like this, something that has never happened on television, the idea that they are required to follow some sort of heavy-handed and constrained script to cater to the lowest common denominator of straight members of the general audience instead of just letting this be a love story that they can tell like any other love story strikes me as a flawed assumption based in the limitations of our own imaginations.

Anyway, all that to say, there is a place for coming out narratives and stories about characters struggling with their sexualities or having some form of sexuality crisis and stories about queer characters facing oppression. But in 2023, I think we should accept that those are not the only stories that can be told and, in fact, that we as queer people should be allowed to expect and demand more from our stories. And while I could be wrong, I think the love story they are telling right now with this show gets that.

[Edit: to be clear, I’m not saying that sexuality isn’t important or that Buck and Eddie’s sexualities aren’t separate and individual things—Eddie is not “Bucksexual” (ew), he is queer—but that a mainstream network procedural may not necessarily have the bandwidth to address the full complex realities of sexual fluidity and how sexualities can change over time etc and I think it makes sense to explore those things in fic rather than expecting the show to try and do something the medium isn’t necessarily conducive to]

[alluringjae]

all i do is wait - kdy

All I Do Is Wait | So Close

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

⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader

⤑ word count: 22.7k

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

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

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

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

i cried so much in the process.

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

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

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

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

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

And leave you behind.

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

1948

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, sh-”

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

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

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

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

“Women are only meant to stay at home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1950

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

“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too, Doyoung.”

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

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

1951

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was his last shot.

“Guide me, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”

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

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

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

His last letters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyung, are you sure?”

“I just need to see her, Jeno.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His newborn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kim Areum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1954

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you implying?”

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

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

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

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

“Doyoung.”

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

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”

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

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

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

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

To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.

The late 1950s-1960s

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyung, over there.”

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

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

“Areum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what about the deities?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise!”

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

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

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

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

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

This was his sign to bring her home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one will ever match up to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just can never let him go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

1973

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

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

Like mother, like daughter.

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you an only child in your family?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, Areum!”

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

“Yes, tokki?”

Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”

1980s

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yah, you take that back.”

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

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

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

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

“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”

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

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

Early 1990s

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

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

“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a good thing she did.

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

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

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

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

This was it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)!”

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

And there he was, just along the hallway.

This was no longer a dream.

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

“Doyoung!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit, Doyoung...”

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

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

“You are asking for it now, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her actual father was in this dream with her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make sure you wait for me this time.” 

[doubledgesword-2]

Soulmate Au Part 3

Part 1 and Part 2 are here! Requests for the Adult trio are open!

WARNING DUB-CON AND EXPLICIT SMUT +18 Please do not te upload somewhere else!!

You started to suspect something was wrong with you when you walked deep into the forest, looking to harvest the crops. Your mind screamed at you to keep walking. Walk away from this place and leave them behind. The minute your feet took one step forward, the most intense migraine struck you. You tried to walk forwards and work through the pain, but it became too debilitating to the point your legs gave under you, and your body crumbled to the ground.

Your eyes clenched close, and your body tucked in into a fetal position, your hands clutching your shirt in hopes it would lessen the pain. Suddenly, you heard a rustle behind you, but couldn't really be bothered to turn and look at the disturbance.

"Oh, here you are. I was worried something might have happened" Chrollo came from behind a tree, his coat gracefully moving as he came to stand before your crippled form.

He sat down beside you taking your body into his lap. His hands stroke your hair as tears came down from your eyes.

"(Y/N), this is such a nice and peaceful place you've built" his voice was so calm, and his hands went through your locks with such comfort that you were calming down for a second.

He took a deep breath, eyes close with a smile as if truly enjoying the quiet and the light breeze blowing through. Chrollo leaned down close to you, your body shaking in pain still. His hands petted away a couple of strands of your hair as his lips came close to your ear.

"You weren't thinking of leaving now, were you?"

The tone of his voice made the question feel like a gentle threat. But a threat nonetheless. He kissed your temple and kept running his hands through your hair, breathing in once more, smiling at the sunbeams coming through the leaves and shining down on the two of you.

"I am delighted you have decided to stay with us. It would have broken all our hearts to know you weren't happy here" he looked down at your form, no longer distressed but still slightly shaking and sniffling.

"You are happy here, are you not?"

You nodded weakly in response, and he beamed at you. He picked you up gently, bridal style, while his hand carried the woven basket underneath you.

"Let's go, I'll prepare dinner tonight. Just the two of us, little treasure. All is well".

Chrollo brought you all the way to the cottage, filling the air with casual banter along the way. His excitement grew whenever the prospect of a new book came into the conversation.

"It's very eloquent poetry. I am sure it'll sound melodic coming from your lips".

Chrollo walked into the cottage with you still in his arms. The other two were nowhere to be seen, and it confirmed what he had said: you two were truly alone. Chrollo settled you on the sofa, your fluffy cat meowing around his legs. He crouched to pet the cat's head.

"What are you craving today, love?" Your eyes were close, dried tear streaks under them, but you opened them to see him smiling warmly at you while still petting your cat.

"Chef's choice," you replied simply, trying a smile of your own, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Mmm, hard choice, I'll surprise you then" he gave your forehead a kiss and moved away from your vision line.

After leaving you on the sofa, Chrollo had draped his coat over the chair, washed his hands, and got everything ready for the food. Your eyes were droopy, body tired after your horrific headache, so you drifted off into a nice comfy nap.

A fantastic smell wafted around the house, waking you up to find you have drooled on the decorative pillow. Chrollo was in front of you, smiling at your cute and sleepy face.

You shot up, looking around as if you weren't in your house, and you didn't know who was in front of you. Then it all came back, the realization hit you, and you wiped the drool with the back of your hand. Chrollo chuckled at you and got up to kiss the top of your head, lingering for a second, hugging you to him.

“Dinner is ready, come on love."

A bit disoriented and groggy, you got up and went to the table. Everything was set up with candles surrounding the dinner table and the kitchen. A single rose in a vase was in the middle of the table, the same vase that you had changed the flowers that fateful day they had found you. Chrollo was waiting beside the chair he had pulled out for you. He had a proud smile as you went to sit at the chair, and he gently pushed you in. The whole thing was adorable, and it would have been romantic if you weren't wary of the man. He sat down as well and was looking at you with loving eyes. You pretended he wasn't fixed on you as you took the first bite out of your food.

"I hope it's to your liking. I had never made this one before" he had ended up making your favorite dish, and you were happy to have it; the food was truly delicious.

The fact that he knew your favorite dish shouldn't give you the feeling of dread, and yet it did. You knew the trio had most undoubtedly memorized everything about you, no matter how small the detail was. Still, you couldn't wrap your head around the idea.

"It's delicious, thank you" you forced a smile at him, and he chuckled under his breath, looking down at his own plate.

"You don't have to pretend with me (Y/N). I'm not Hisoka or Illumi; I'm a simple thief but a gentleman at heart. I know you're uncomfortable, and this situation is new to you. I don't blame you".

You looked down to your plate, feeling a bit embarrassed that he noticed your inner turmoil. His words should have offered comfort, but you couldn't feel it or find any. Instead, they further pushed down the heavy stone in your stomach.

"I-I don't know how to feel, still. I'm adjusting, trying to at least" you took another bite and gave him a close-lipped smile as you chewed the food.

Chrollo's dark eyes pierced yours; he wasn't buying it.

"Then perhaps we haven't fully helped you experience love in this relationship," he gave you a closed eye smile and took a mouthful of the food.

You felt shivers run up your spine, body tingling in fear and dread as if you were at the dropping point of a big coaster ride. Your heart beat faster to the point where you started hearing it in your ears.

The door seemed like an excellent option right now.

Your hands went under the table to grip the edge of the chair as you tried to ground yourself back into the moment. 'He didn't say anything. He just made a suggestion with a smile', you told yourself, looking for the logic in his words, and calming yourself. But it wasn't working, you had felt it. Felt the tiniest flare of his aura reach out to you in silent warning. Nothing big but just enough to put you back into place. There were so many meanings behind that little jesting phrase that it made you anxious.

"Are you alright? You seem a little pale" he placed his utensil down, getting out of the chair and crouching near you.

His cold hand reached to your cheek, caressing you and making you look down at him.

"Perhaps some air will do you good," he grabbed both your hands in his and pulled you up and out of the chair.

You were in a slight daze watching him as he placed a coat around you and dressed in his own. Chrollo exited the cottage with you around his arm. The two of you looked like a loving couple taking a stroll in the middle of winter.

As you walked into the forest, passing by trees and bushes taking in the sights under the moonlight, Chrollo pulled a book from inside his coat and handed it to you. You took it. Still, a bit shook but figured some reading might do you good.

"I borrowed it," the way he said borrow told you he meant stole "figured you might like it" he side-eyed you as your doe-like eyes looked up to him in question.

You looked down at the cover seeing it was a very elusive limited edition copy of one of your favorite authors. Your heart skipped a beat, and for once in a long while, you were pleasantly surprised and excited. Your lips pulled into an unconscious smile, and by the time you had noticed you were smiling and tried to hide it with a serious look, Chrollo had already smiled and locked the sight in his mind. You looked precious.

"Why don't you read it out loud. I'm sure it's a good night for some reading if you don't mind?" His suave and smooth voice questioned, but you knew better than to resist him.

So you nodded, muttering a thank you. He nodded back, closing his eyes briefly and then looking back at you with expectation. You opened the first page and started to read the prologue as the two of you walked. Your lips never stuttering a word as you got lost in the story, pulled into it to the point were you forgot his eyes on you.

Chrollo was looking around the trees, admiring the majestic scenery as your words filled the nightly air. He knew your tone was hesitant and scared. You hated reading out loud and especially to him. You'd told him it was something about the sound of your voice in your ears. But he loved it. The way you pronounced or mispronounced words made his heart flutter. How your tone changed when you got lost in the narrative and started muttering small comments for the characters under your breath. Your little mannerisms made you adorable in his eyes, and the more he looked at you, the more he wanted.

He wasn't satisfied.

At the beginning of his relationship with Hisoka, there were some bumps he had to overcome when it came to the clown. But once he did, he could say he came to love the jester. When Illumi came into the picture as his second soulmate, he was a bit surprised. He, at some point, even doubted the assassin could actually be capable of emoting or loving. But one night, when they were all together tucked away in a vacation home right in front of the beach, he realized something about themselves.

He was sitting on a comfy armchair sofa in the balcony, book in hand, a glass of wine resting on its wooden arm. The sun was setting as cliche as it may sound, but his eyes rested on the page's words. When suddenly, he felt a head fall on his lap.

Assuming it was Hisoka, he didn't even glance down in hopes of secretly riling him up. Though curiosity got the better of him, so his eyes did glance down, and he was surprised. On his lap, long black hair fanned across it, was Illumi with his eyes close and a peaceful expression on his face.

Chrollo's heart fluttered.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he stole glances of the assassin. He almost closed the book, but he was afraid the sound would shake the scene and make the Illumi leave. So he kept pretending to read, not being able to fully concentrate with the comforting weight of Illumi on his lap.

They bonded after that, growing closer together. Hisoka was proud of them. The troupe had always been his family but getting to feel this kind of love was different.

That's when he realized soulmates were meant to be together for a reason. So when your name appeared on their skin out of nowhere, he knew they had to find you. You were not being loved as you should. That's why he understands your apprehension and your wariness of them. They're not exactly good in lawful standards, and their moral compasses might be slightly broken. But if there's one thing they know for sure, loving you is one of their main goals.

You just need to see it.

"As soon-"your reading got interrupted by a pair of lips on yours.

Chrollo's hands grabbed both sides of your face and brought you close for a fevered kiss. The book fell out of your hands as they came to rest on his arms.

"I couldn't resist," he mumbled out of breath against your lips. You, on the other hand, were freaking out a bit.

The fact that you were in the middle of a clearing in the forest was making you anxious. Chrollo dived in again, looking for your lips, but you turned your face away bashfully. You looked down to the grass seeing the book and bending down to pick it up as if he hadn't just kissed away your breath.

He was a bit hurt, but he had to remember that you weren't like them. You needed a little more coaxing to come out of your shell. He would help.

You straightened, inspecting the book for any creases or tears in the pages. You dusted away some dirt, closing the book delicately and looking up at Chrollo.

You frowned at the sight. Not that it wasn't a pleasant one, he was handsome and pretty, but you weren't buying it. At some point, you were pretty sure you were in soulmate denial.

"What are you doing?" You asked meekly, seeing as he had shaken away his coat and was shirtless at the moment.

Your fight or flight sense was glaring up, and you hugged the book to your stomach. Chollo placed his coat in the grass, open as if it was a picnic blanket. He turned to eye you, his eyes no longer cold.

"I know you're afraid, but there's nothing to be afraid of. Let me show you just how much I love you," that was your cue.

He took a step, and you mirrored him taking one back. This made him slightly tilt his head to the side, the look playfully menacing. Chrollo took another step and your nen flared up in warning, this time stronger than the last time you had tried this. He looked proud instead of intimidated, and it angered you.

The loving way he looked at your nen didn't help your case, and so you attacked. Your nen moved fast, striking the spot where he was. But he was fast, as quick as Hisoka, and that was a disadvantage to you.

Chrollo had suddenly disappeared and left you in the middle of the clearing. You leaned down to quickly put the book out of harm's way and then stood in attention. The moon shone brightly on you, giving your dangerous look and angelic glow. He could've groaned and moaned out loud just like Hisoka would've done, but he bit his lip instead, looking at you through the foliage.

Your ears were strained, searching for any noise as little as it may be. But there was no noise when he came, fast and swift bringing you down. The two of you rolled around on the grass, he chuckled as you winded up, straddling him. Your face scrunched up in concentration. His hand lifted to your cheek, caressing it, which made you flinch for a second. Chrollo then flipped the two of you, causing you to shriek at the suddenness. He pinned down your wrists, bringing them beside your head. Your wide-eyed looked at him startled, yet something was growing in your stomach's pit.

"You're getting better. Illumi should be proud," he leaned down, bringing his lips close to your ear. "Your nen is worth stealing, I wouldn't mind, if it meant keeping you as well" he bit your earlobe, making you bite your lips.

You tried to wriggle your wrists out of his hold, but his hands tightened around them. Chrollo started kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking his way down your collarbone. Still, you kept muffling your noises, biting your lip, and holding your tongue.

He wouldn't have it. Chrollo bit down in between your neck and shoulder, making you moan loudly.

"That's more like it," he chuckled against the spot soothing it with a lick and kiss, "Do you think I could steal some more noises from your lips?" He asked, bringing his lips close to yours.

"Would you let me?" You could feel his breath on your lips as he talked.

Chrollo kissed you hard, tongue poking your entrance and biting your lower lip so you wouldn't deny him. He sucked on your tongue, relishing in your futile attempts to keep quiet. His hips started grinding slowly into yours, pressing down his hard-on on your clothed spot. He was only wearing his pants, back and chest bared under the moonlight and shining with a thin layer of sweat. He separated for some air, leaving you a bit dazed and fuzzy. His hands coming down to your clothes gripping your shirt and tugging at it. That jerked you up from your state, making you gasp, your hands coming to his own grabbing them. You tried to pull them away from you, but he took both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them hard on the ground.

You groaned at the slight pain, and he took the opportunity of your raised arms to slide the shirt up and jumble it around your hands in makeshift bounds. He smiled down at your bra and the way your brows scrunched up in struggle. Your fight was strong, but he was stronger.

Chrollo leaned down to your chest, kissing the curve of your breast pressed on the bra. He bit down on the mound, making you groan.

"You're so soft, so beautiful," he whispered to your chest as his hand slipped the breast out of the bra. He massages the nipple, head dipping, and licking the other to attention. You started squirming under him, bringing your tied hands to stop him but ended up hugging his head closer to your chest, a moaning mess.

A fire was rising in between your legs, and you felt the electricity go down your spine.

'What were they doing to you?!' You screamed in your mind trying to fight the feeling.

Chrollo's hand left your mound, his mouth kept sucking on the other, as he sneaked down to your waistline. You had been wearing a comfortable attire since it was a bit hot, and you were tending to the crops today before your accident. He easily slipped down and into your panties. His calloused and experienced hands didn't waste any time and felt your slit. He smirked when he found you wet, but not enough for him. Chrollo gathered some slick and gently rubbed on your hooded pearl. You jerked under him, muffling a moan by biting your lip. His lips left your peak, glistening and wet under the dim moonlight. He went to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and planting open-mouthed kisses as his other hand maintained a steady rhythm on your nub. He didn't change the speed, going in gentle circles on your bundle of nerves.

You were getting desperate, feeling the pleasure rising in you, and pushing shame to the back of your mind. Your hips bucked unconsciously, and he tutted you like a child, smiling in victory against your neck with closed eyes.

"Tch, tch, tch, not yet, I think you deserve some punishment for being so stubborn with me" he bit your earlobe, making you whine in response.

Your body struggled against him, but he let his weight drop on you, making you stay still. Chrollo's hand then went quicker and quicker, driving you deep into pleasure but not all the way. You whined again, trying to move away from his hand, but he went faster. Suddenly you felt the ice-cold rush from the tip of your toes to your core, pleasure flooding your system like a wave. Your body shook under his, toes curling, and you let out a moan closing your eyes at all the sensations.

Chrollo groaned with you, his pants too tight for comfort. He grinned against you softly and sat up, still straddling you. In your high, you didn't felt as he pulled the rest of your clothes down and his arousal out, the tip an angry red as he stroke it, shuddering under the feeling. He then pushed into you, making you gasp and open your eyes wide to the see him. His eyes closed, and he bit his lip briefly. Then his dark eyes opened slowly, looking down at you in adoration. His mouth was slightly opened, breathing heavily at the feeling of your warmth engulfing him. Hair was falling sideways and forwards, almost covering the cross on his forehead. The light glowing behind him gave him a surreal look and feel.

It was euphoric.

You moaned, and he started moving slowly, leaning over you to capture your lips as he sped up. His hands were beside your head, supporting his body as he rocked with you. He rested on his forearms, bringing himself closer to you as he changed speed and slowly rolled his hips, making you feel everything.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your cheek, kissing it afterward.

Chrollo groaned lowly when he bumped into a special spot that made you clench hard around him. You moaned.

"Found it," he chuckled low, speeding up and hitting the same spot over and over.

Your hips buckled, meeting his as he sat up. He gave you a half-lidded look, smiling at you. His hands came to rest on your hips, pressing them down as he rammed inside you. He couldn't take how good you felt, your same walls gripping him and becoming him deeper. He complied, going faster and deeper, making you moan and whine. Chrollo's hand sneaked to your hooded pearl, rubbing it at matching speed with his thrusts.

Your body jerked, heat, and cold consuming you at equal measure. Your body glistened with sweat under the moonlight, making you glow and shine like a jewel worth stealing. Chrollo bit his lip at the picture, wishing he could just have it to look at it all the time. Instead, he committed it to memory, his hand rubbing your nub furiously.

Suddenly your body arched beautifully, your breasts offered to him as you came with a shriek. Pleasure flooded you, making you twitch and shake. He joined you with a groan, head thrown back as his body arched as well, driving his length deep inside you, releasing all of himself into you. Your walls massage him as he thrusts slowly.

The two of you panted heavily.

Chrollo's hands were beside your head, supporting his body as he caught his breath. He looked down at you, your skin looking perfect under the lighting, your lips puffy and slightly opened as your naked chest heaved, making your breasts move up and down. You looked gorgeous, and he couldn't ask for more. He was satisfied, and a sense of fullness filled him at the moment.

He pulled out, making your face scrunch up in pain at the slight discomfort of the tenderness. Tucking himself back in his pants, he zipped them up and laid down beside you. He undid the mess around your wrists, and you pulled them down beside your body, resting the aching muscles. His head was supported on his hand as he laid on his side, looking at you in love. Your eyes were closed, and you seemed to be calm, almost sleeping.

His fingers came to lay on your stomach. The ginger touch made you jump slightly at the suddenness, but otherwise, your eyes remained closed. They moved around your form, tracing your marks, your waves, the way your mounds curved into your chest, your collarbone, and finally, they came to rest on your neck. He caresses it with the back of his hand, coming up to your cheek and staying there.

You opened your eyes slightly, looking at him through a tired glaze. Chrollo smiles warmly, coming close to peck your lips. He pulled the coat around your form, covering you from the night's chill, and gathered you in his arms.

Chrollo stopped to pick up the book you had neatly placed away from the mess and chaos. Smirking at your thoughtfulness. He gave you the book or at least propped it on your stomach as your sleepy form was losing the fight. He carried you all the way back to the cottage, where he placed you on the bed. You turned to the side, and he petted your hair, kissing your head. He came back to put the leftover food away and the dishes in the sink, making sure to turn off the candles. Your cat was eagerly following him like he had treats in his pockets.

Chrollo went back to the room, taking off the rest of his clothes and stripping you of this coat. He draped it on your vanity, the rest of the clothes scattered in a corner of the room. Your fluffy black cat went to them, kneading the fabric and then laying on top.

Chrollo pulled the covers back and brought you close to him, pulling the two of you under the sheets. He snuggled closer to you, the two of you naked as the day you were born. He pressed a kiss to the back of your ear, nuzzling your neck afterward and then resting on top of your head.

"Sleep well, my love," mutters, and you reply with your own muffled and unintelligible goodnight. He smiled, closing his eyes in bliss.

He couldn't wait for the morning to do it all over again.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 8 - END

- Ao3 link -

“You’re not going to like what we’ve decided,” Lao Nie said.

Lan Qiren could have guessed that from the way that the other man had marched into the room and promptly used Lan Qiren’s thigh as a pillow, primarily, Lan Qiren suspected, because he didn’t want to have to look Lan Qiren in the face.

It was a common tactic of his these days. The Nie clan had always been inclined towards tactile behavior and a certain lack of personal boundaries – personal information was too much to share, but apparently bodies were free game – and Lao Nie had very quickly transitioned from embarrassment to taking advantage of his newfound dependency on regular physical contact with Lan Qiren. Much to Lan Qiren’s relief, they had managed, with some experimenting and considerable effort on all parts involved, for Lao Nie to form a bond directly with the jade pendant. Now, as long as he carried the pendant, he was able to be by himself for a shichen or so without experiencing any degradation in his mental state – and that, in turn, enabled them both to separate and allowed them both some measure of privacy.

Unfortunately, after that shichen was over, Lao Nie would begin to become irritable and irrational again, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot as the rage and resentful energy contained now wholly within him, rather than in the jade – in Jiwei, rather – began to need to be excised. Exercise and cultivation with a heavy training saber helped slow the effects, as did Lan Qiren’s musical efforts to calm and clear his mind, but Lao Nie’s cultivation was simply too high for it to last for very long. It was as if half his meridians had vanished overnight and yet he continued to cultivate as he did before; it was as if his dominant arm had been abruptly cut off, and yet he instinctively continued to try to do everything he previously could. He needed his saber to complete even a standard circulation of his qi, and short of suppressing his spiritual energy entirely (another experiment that met with some limited success, getting them another two shichen of time apart if they really needed it, but which was not a long-term solution given the unfortunate side effects), he had to have access to it.

Currently, that access was through Lan Qiren.

“If you’re warning me in advance, I’m quite certain that I won’t like it,” he said mildly, continuing to play uninterrupted. He wasn’t cultivating anything at the moment – the piece he was working on was actually a refinement of the music he’d inadvertently created in his grief at Cangse Sanren’s death, the one that had made his normally very stable nephews burst into tears, and he didn’t want to add spiritual energy to it until he’d worked out exactly how he wanted it to go. He reached an appropriate stopping place, noted down a few revisions to the score, and put his guqin aside. “You should tell me about it regardless.”

Lao Nie exhaled. “Well, good news first – the smiths have finally finished conferring and they’ve concluded that they believe it’s possible to try reforging Jiwei, so they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said. He hadn’t really understood the spiritual weaponsmiths’ reluctance on the subject, but he respected their expertise as craftsmen, just as they respected his as a musician. “Once the saber has been remade, I can reestablish the resonance between them and, in theory, Jiwei should be able to use that pathway to return - and with greater ease, as she would be returning to her more familiar self.”

“Not that easy, unfortunately,” Lao Nie said regretfully. “Jiwei was shattered. To remake the blade, they will need to – for want of a better explanation – melt her down and start entirely afresh. It will be like having a wholly different saber, albeit with the same metal that she’s used to.”

Lan Qiren frowned.

“There, you see the issue. If it’s a new saber, the familiarity will be absent. We will need to work on reestablishing the resonance the way we did with the pendant, and that means –”

“Slowly.” Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. It had taken him years to establish that initial resonance, and knowing how it was done could only reduce the process by so much. “That is indeed a problem. I cannot stay here as long as that would take. In all truth, I am surprised that I have not already been summoned back by my sect…”

“Oh, you have,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “A-Jue burned the letters and told the messengers to fuck off.”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “He did what?!”

“Did we not say? You’ve officially been kidnapped! Well, no, really it’s more of a hostage exchange situation, since they have A-Sang with them…oh, don’t look so horrified, Qiren,” Lao Nie said, starting to laugh. “Your sect elders have indicated that no offense was taken, under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?!” Lan Qiren spluttered a little. “You’re not serious! What circumstances could justify one sect kidnapping another sect’s sect leader, acting or otherwise?!”

Lao Nie stopped laughing, the sound cutting off as if he’d been choked. “Yes, well,” he said, closing his eyes. “That’s the part you’re really not going to like.”

Lan Qiren determinedly prodded at Lao Nie’s shoulder until the other man, grumbling, sat up and took a proper seat so that they could have this discussion face-to-face. Their knees remained touching, which was good enough, and about all that the scoundrel deserved at the moment.

“Explain,” Lan Qiren ordered, and Lao Nie dipped his head into a nod.

“There are several relevant points,” he said crisply, dropping into the familiar pattern of a report. “First, Hanhan has clearly decided that he wants me dead –”

“Must you?” Lan Qiren interjected, even though he had not meant to interrupt.

“Oh, I must.” Lao Nie’s eyes were flinty. “He decided that if he couldn’t have me – and no one said he couldn’t, except his own paranoia – that if he couldn’t, no one could, and I’m not about to forgive him for that, don’t worry. But he’s still my Hanhan, my A-Han, underneath all his madness, and for my own sake, I’m not going to let anyone, whether him or me, forget it. No matter how necessary, some things have to hurt, and to their fullest extent...However, that’s not what’s relevant now. May I continue?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“He wants me dead,” Lao Nie said, resuming his narrative. “Now that he tried once, he may try again, and I currently lack the capability to defend myself – the doctors, and you, have all agreed that I should avoid any excessive use of qi, and fighting a battle with a saber that isn’t Jiwei is a recipe for disaster in the best of times. I can’t exactly swing the pendant around, can I? Moreover, it may take years for us to establish the resonance, re-transfer Jiwei, and for me to re-familiarize myself with the new saber.”

Lan Qiren did not like the way this was going.

“There’s also the matter that I can’t be without physical contact with you for extended periods of time, and you of course have your responsibility to your sect,” Lao Nie continued. “Kidnapping you is, at best, a temporary fix. We will need something more permanent, and your sect elders have already indicated that they won’t let you marry out until your nephews are grown – and obviously we can’t wait that long, even assuming you’d want to marry me.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth.

“Don’t say that you’d be willing to make the sacrifice to marry me, because even if you would, I wouldn’t. Putting aside the fact that you wouldn’t be happy leaving the Cloud Recesses and as much as I adore you, having been married before, I’m quite certain that I only want to marry my lovers, thank you.”

Lan Qiren had, in fact, been about to make an offer just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. They could discuss it at length at a later point.

“In short, the best solution to all of these problems, therefore, appears to be to allow events to play out as Hanhan would have wanted: for me to die.”

“You cannot be serious!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, abruptly furious. “After all the effort we put into saving your life, you would just throw it away?”

Lao Nie held up his hands. “Forgive me, I spoke unwisely – ‘do not take your words lightly’, right?”

Lan Qiren was usually very easily distracted by the mention of the Lan sect rules, but he resisted the temptation and glared.

“I didn’t mean I’d actually die,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Only that that would be the story we put out to the world. The process has already begun – that’s why your sect elders aren’t kicking up a fit about A-Jue being so rude to them about refusing to return you.”

“They think he’s in mourning,” Lan Qiren realized. “Whether actual, or merely preemptive.”

He could see how it might appear that way: Nie Mingjue showing up late in the evening, depositing a shaken and terrified Nie Huaisang, using up all the medical supplies in Lan Qiren’s personal possession, and then asking Lan Qiren to return home with him…

Due to Lan Qiren’s friendship with Lao Nie, Nie Mingjue had grown up especially close to the Lan sect; Lan Qiren had been his teacher, and in the end he was only fifteen, even if most people didn’t know that. Even in a world where Lao Nie could not have been saved, he might have refused to let Lan Qiren go home so quickly, seeking comfort from the sole familial authority, however informally constituted, that he had remaining.

“But Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “If you are supposedly dead, then Mingjue will need to become sect leader.”

Lao Nie grimaced, but nodded.

He’d been right about one thing, at least: Lan Qiren did not like what the Nie sect had decided.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“You know what that will do to him,” he said. He himself knew it better than anyone.

“I do,” Lao Nie confirmed, looking pained. “But it’s the best out of a short list of very bad options. If I stay on as sect leader in my current state, someone will kill me – probably Hanhan, but maybe someone else, one of the many small sects that have ambitions of taking the Nie sect’s place – and if that happens, A-Jue will have to become sect leader in truth, without my support. At least this way, I can act as an advisor, aid him with paperwork…that sort of thing.”

As much as Lan Qiren would have liked to argue, he didn’t have a good rebuttal to that.

Lao Nie’s position within the Nie sect was as secure as anything, and the Nie sect’s position as a Great Sect was nearly as unshakable, but there were always smaller sects looking to see whether that could change. If he were known to be so critically weakened...Wen Ruohan might not even need to kill him personally. He’d just need to wait.

And the rest was true, too. There were many things Lao Nie could do from a distance - his month at the Lan sect had shown that much - and having someone reliable to turn to for advice and hard choices was the ideal sort of transition for a new sect leader.

Still, the sect conferences alone would be horrifying, and those Lao Nie would not be able to aid Nie Mingjue with, even if he could help with all the rest.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t argue against it.

“Moreover, without the bulk of the responsibilities of sect leader on my shoulders, I’ll have more opportunity to focus on healing.”

That was true as well. Lao Nie had been hurt very deeply by Jiwei’s destruction. His cultivation had fallen, his usual cultivation pathway denied to him, his trust in his own mental well-being betrayed…in an ideal world, Lan Qiren would recommend seclusion for a few months, maybe even a year, for him to focus on reestablishing his connection with himself, re-centering his foundation so that he could climb up once more. But for a sect leader, that was impossible.

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, although he made sure by his tone to make clear how much he disapproved. “I understand the basis for your decision.”

“I thought you might.”

“There’s only one flaw I see with your plan.”

“Oh?”

Lan Qiren folded his hands together in front of him. “You still need me, don’t you? Even with the excuse of mourning, Nie Mingjue can only request my presence for so long before the demands of my sect become paramount over their respect for his filial piety and grief.”

“Oh, we’ll let you go back eventually,” Lao Nie said with a shrug. “And I’d go with you.”

Lan Qiren had been expecting that. “And how exactly do you intend to keep the story of your death intact if you’re living with me at the Cloud Recesses? Even if we increase your tolerance such that you can stay home at all times, my home is often visited by my students, including those from other sects – and while there may be a rule against talking behind people’s backs, it is one of the most commonly broken.”

Lao Nie winced in a way that suggested both that he had thought of an answer to that question and also that Lan Qiren was going to hate it.

“Whatever you say, I cannot dislike it more than A-Jue becoming sect leader at fifteen,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Lao Nie said. “Given that to this day you despise the smell of gentians.”

Lan Qiren’s brain came to an abrupt halt.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Qiren…”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good solution,” Lao Nie argued. “No one in your sect goes to that house – most of them don’t even know it exists! It’s within a short walking distance of your home, protected by arrays to enhance silence and protect privacy…”

“I am not locking you in He Kexin’s place!” Lan Qiren bellowed.

“You wouldn’t be locking me anywhere,” Lao Nie said, for once the reasonable and calm one in the face of Lan Qiren’s fury. “I would be going willingly, and I would be free to leave at any time. You’re not your brother, Qiren, and I’m not He Kexin – not least of which because I’m neither capable of nor interested in bearing two sons for you as a means of passing the time.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “A bit of a pity, that. I’m sure they’d be cute.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at him, although the reassurance and humor had helped douse the worst of his terror at the mere idea. Irritatingly, it was a good solution: he had made the trek to He Kexin’s home hundreds of times and no one had ever raised any questions. In the unlikely event that they did so now, he could claim he was merely tending to the garden to maintain it for his nephews; more likely, however, they would simply not notice – the path between the two locations was short and purposefully discrete.

“You’ll need someone to clean the place,” he pointed out. “Even He Kexin had servants, and if you don’t want anyone from the Lan sect finding out about it…”

“I have some servants that are loyal to me personally, and which are not Nie sect disciples,” Lao Nie said. “They can seek employment at the Cloud Recesses on the basis that they didn’t want to remain here after I’d gone – literally true, if you think about it in a certain light. Your sect would snatch them up in a heartbeat.”

They would, too, even without Lan Qiren interfering: properly trained servants who knew how to serve cultivators were a precious commodity that often had to be raised up from a young age or recruited with great caution from the ranks of rogue cultivators, and ones with the skills and experience that came from serving at another Great Sect were even more valued than most. And once they were part of the Cloud Recesses, there would be no difficulty in Lan Qiren adding the task of caring for He Kexin’s house to their list of duties.

“It’s a good plan,” he finally conceded, and Lao Nie sniggered.

“You look as though you’ve bitten into a lemon, Qiren. Did it hurt to say?”

“It hurt to think,” he retorted, and turned back to his guqin. “Will you visit my brother while you’re there? He might enjoy hearing your voice and knowing that you are close.”

Lao Nie had always refused in the past, and he shook his head now. “Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Qiren. Qingheng-jun made his choices.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He makes them again every day,” Lao Nie disagreed. “He may have declared that he would stay in seclusion for the rest of his life to make amends, but that was his decision. He could break his oath and come out, do the right thing, but he doesn’t want to.”

It was an old argument, and an unproductive one. Lan Qiren shook his head, signaling that he would no longer engage.

He had other things to be concerned with, and would for some time. There was helping with Lao Nie’s recovery, creating the new resonance, playing calming music for him, keeping his secret; he would also need to help support Nie Mingjue as much as possible during his transition to sect leader, whether through correspondence and advice or through active intervention during the discussion conferences. He would need to manage his nephews, who he had taught so carefully not to lie, and yet they would need to learn to keep this secret, too.

Taking care of Lao Nie would also be an additional set of duties, on top of being sect leader and being a teacher and being himself, but Lan Qiren didn’t mind it.

It wouldn’t be so bad, actually, now that he thought of it without prejudice. To have someone close by to take tea with in the afternoons when his nephews were too busy and it wasn’t the right time of year for students, someone with whom he could speak on any range of subjects, including his occasional frustrations with his sect, stories about his students, the political troubles of the day – a friend close by, rather than at a distance. Someone who would probably encourage him to take more exercise than he usually did, to try things outside of his comfort zone, someone who would listen to his ideas on music or the rules without judgment, someone who would share his burdens and support him…it would be a little like having a wife, but without all the inconvenient aspects that he so thoroughly disliked.

“It’s not too bad, as such things go,” Lao Nie said, his thoughts clearly moving along a similar line as Lan Qiren’s. “Whatever the world thinks, I’ll be the first Nie sect leader to live to enjoy a retirement, however premature.”

This was true.

“I’ll miss my boys, of course,” Lao Nie added. “But I’ll write, and you can invite A-Sang to your lectures when he’s old enough. A-Jue can come visit you, sect leader to sect leader…I wouldn’t be the first father to only see his children a few times a year.”

“Nie Huaisang will probably fail my classes,” Lan Qiren said, having been acquainted with the individual in question for some time now. A clever child, even very clever, but he was also lazy, hated reciting facts, and was as stubborn as a rock – as stubborn as his father. “You’ll probably have the joy of him for several summers in a row.”

Lao Nie smiled.  

“Well, I can’t say this was what I expected when I wrote to you for help all those years ago,” he joked, leaning down and playing with the jade token that now hung from his belt rather than Lan Qiren’s. Wen Ruohan would probably have a fit if he ever saw it – indeed, Lan Qiren was already looking forward to that day in the future, however distant, where Lao Nie would regain his saber and his former strength and re-emerge to make his feelings on the subject of Wen Ruohan’s actions clear. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“As am I, my friend,” Lan Qiren said. “As am I.”

[shortnotsweet]

Bakudeku: A Non-Comprehensive Dissection of the Exploitation of Working Bodies, the Murder of Annoying Children, and a Rivals-to-Lovers Complex

I. Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

II. Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

III. How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

IV. Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

V. Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

VI. Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

VII. Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

Disclaimer

It needs to be said that there is definitely a place for disagreement, discourse, debate, and analysis: that is a sign of an active fandom that’s heavily invested, and not inherently a bad thing at all. Considering the amount of source material we do have (from the manga, to the anime, to the movies, to the light novels, to the official art), there are going to be warring interpretations, and that’s inevitable.

I started watching and reading MHA pretty recently, and just got into the fandom. I was weary for a reason, and honestly, based on what I’ve seen, I’m still weary now. I’ve seen a lot of anti posts, and these are basically my thoughts. This entire thing is in no way comprehensive, and it’s my own opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. If I wanted to be thorough about this, I would’ve included manga panels, excerpts from the light novel, shots from the anime, links to other posts/essays/metas that have inspired this, etc. but I’m tired and not about that life right now, so, this is what it is. This is poorly organized, but maybe I’ll return to fix it.

Let’s begin.

Bakudeku in Canon, And Why Anti’s Need to Calm the Fuck Down

There are a lot of different reasons, that can be trivial as you like, to ship or not to ship two (or more) characters. It could be based purely off of character design, proximity, aversion to another ship, or hypotheticals. And I do think that it’s totally valid if someone dislikes the ship or can’t get on board with his character because to them, it does come across as abuse, and the implications make them uncomfortable or, or it just feels unhealthy. If that is your takeaway, and you are going to stick to your guns, the more power to you.

But Bakudeku’s relationship has canonically progressed to the point where it’s not the emotionally (or physically) abusive clusterfuck some people portray it to be, and it’s cheap to assume that it would be, based off of their characterizations as middle schoolers. Izuku intentionally opens the story as a naive little kid who views the lens of the Hero society through rose colored glasses and arguably wants nothing more than assimilation into that society; Bakugou is a privileged little snot who embodies the worst and most hypocritical beliefs of this system. Both of them are intentionally proven wrong. Both are brainwashed, as many little children are, by the propaganda and societal norms that they are exposed to. Both of their arcs include unlearning crucial aspects of the Hero ideology in order to become true heroes.

I will personally never simp for Bakugou because for the longest time, I couldn't help but think of him as a little kid on the playground screaming at the top of his lungs because someone else is on the swingset. He’s red in the face, there are probably veins popping out of his neck, he’s losing it. It’s easy to see why people would prefer Tododeku to Bakudeku.

Even now, seeing him differently, I still personally wouldn’t date Bakugou, especially if I had other options. Why? I probably wouldn’t want to date any of the guys who bullied me, especially because I think that schoolyard bullying, even in middle school, affected me largely in a negative way and created a lot of complexes I’m still trying to work through. I haven’t built a better relationship with them, and I’m not obligated to. Still, I associate them with the kind of soft trauma that they inflicted upon me, and while to them it was probably impersonal, to me, it was an intimate sort of attack that still affects me. That being said, that is me. Those are my personal experiences, and while they could undoubtedly influence how I interpret relationships, I do not want to project and hinder my own interpretation of Deku.

The reality is that Deku himself has an innate understanding of Bakugou that no one else does; I mention later that he seems to understand his language, implicitly, and I do stand by that. He understands what it is he’s actually trying to say, often why he’s saying it, and while others may see him as wimpy or unable to stand up for himself, that’s simply not true. Part of Deku’s characterization is that he is uncommonly observant and empathetic; I’m not denying that Bakugou caused harm or inflicted damage, but infantilizing Deku and preaching about trauma that’s not backed by canon and then assuming random people online excuse abuse is just...the leap of leaps, and an actual toxic thing to do. I’ve read fan works where Bakugou is a bully, and that’s all, and has caused an intimate degree of emotional, mental, and physical insecurity from their middle school years that prevents their relationship from changing, and that’s for the better. I’m not going to argue and say that it’s not an interesting take, or not valid, or has no basis, because it does. Its basis is the character that Bakugou was in middle school, and the person he was when he entered UA.

Not only is Bakugou — the current Bakugou, the one who has accumulated memories and experiences and development — not the same person he was at the beginning of the story, but Deku is not the same person, either. Maybe who they are fundamentally, at their core, stays the same, but at the beginning and end of any story, or even their arcs within the story, the point is that characters will undergo change, and that the reader will gain perspective.

“You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan dive off the roof!”

Yes. That is a horrible thing to tell someone, even if you are a child, even if you don’t understand the implications, even if you don’t mean what it is you are saying. Had someone told me that in middle school, especially given our history and the context of our interactions, I don’t know if I would ever have forgiven them.

Here’s the thing: I’m not Deku. Neither is anyone reading this. Deku is a fictional character, and everyone we know about him is extrapolated from source material, and his response to this event follows:

“Idiot! If I really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide! Think before you speak!”

I think it’s unfair to apply our own projections as a universal rather than an interpersonal interpretation; that’s not to say that the interpretation of Bakudeku being abusive or having unbalanced power dynamics isn’t valid, or unfounded, but rather it’s not a universal interpretation, and it’s not canon. Deku is much more of a verbal thinker; in comparison, Bakugou is a visual one, at least in the format of the manga, and as such, we get various panels demonstrating his guilt, and how deep it runs. His dialogue and rapport with Deku has undeniably shifted, and it’s very clear that the way they treat each other has changed from when they were younger. Part of Bakugou’s growth is him gaining self awareness, and eventually, the strength to wield that. He knows what a fucked up little kid he was, and he carries the weight of that.

“At that moment, there were no thoughts in my head. My body just moved on its own.”

There’s a part of me that really, really disliked Bakugou going into it, partially because of what I’d seen and what I’d heard from a limited, outside perspective. I felt like Bakugou embodied the toxic masculinity (and to an extent, I still believe that) and if he won in some way, that felt like the patriarchy winning, so I couldn't help but want to muzzle and leash him before releasing him into the wild.

The reality, however, of his character in canon is that it isn’t very accurate to assume that he would be an abusive partner in the future, or that Midoryia has not forgiven him to some extent already, that the two do not care about each other or are singularly important, that they respect each other, or that the narrative has forgotten any of this.

Don’t mistake me for a Bakugou simp or apologist. I’m not, but while I definitely could also see Tododeku (and I have a soft spot for them, too, their dynamic is totally different and unique, and Todoroki is arguably treated as the tritagonist) and I’m ambivalent about Izuocha (which is written as cannoncially romantic) I do believe that canonically, Bakugou and Deku are framed as soulmates/character foils, Sasuke + Naruto, Kageyama + Hinata style. Their relationship is arguably the focus of the series. That’s not to undermine the importance or impact of Deku’s relationships with other characters, and theirs with him, but in terms of which one takes priority, and which one this all hinges on?

The manga is about a lot of things, yes, but if it were to be distilled into one relationship, buckle up, because it’s the Bakudeku show.

Power is Power: the Brain-Melting Process of Normalization and Toxic Masculinity

One of the ways in which the biopolitical prioritization of Quirks is exemplified within Hero society is through Quirk marriages. Endeavor partially rationalizes the abuse of his family through the creation of a child with the perfect quirk, a child who can be molded into the perfect Hero. People with powerful, or useful abilities, are ranked high on the hierarchy of power and privilege, and with a powerful ability, the more opportunities and avenues for success are available to them.

For the most part, Bakugou is a super spoiled, privileged little rich kid who is born talented but is enabled for his aggressive behavior and, as a child, cannot move past his many internalized complexes, treats his peers like shit, and gets away with it because the hero society he lives in either has this “boys will be boys” mentality, or it’s an example of the way that power, or Power, is systematically prioritized in this society. The hero system enables and fosters abusers, people who want power and publicity, and people who are genetically predisposed to have advantages over others. There are plenty of good people who believe in and participate in this system, who want to be good, and who do good, but that doesn’t change the way that the hero society is structured, the ethical ambiguity of the Hero Commission, and the way that Heroes are but pawns, idols with machine guns, used to sell merch to the public, to install faith in the government, or the current status quo, and reinforce capitalist propaganda. Even All Might, the epitome of everything a Hero should be, is drained over the years, and exists as a concept or idea, when in reality he is a hollow shell with an entire person inside, struggling to survive. Hero society is functionally dependent on illusion.

In Marxist terms: There is no truth, there is only power.

Although Bakugou does change, and I think that while he regrets his actions, what is long overdue is him verbally expressing his remorse, both to himself and Deku. One might argue that he’s tried to do it in ways that are compatible with his limited emotional range of expression, and Deku seems to understand this language implicitly.

I am of the opinion that the narrative is building up to a verbal acknowledgement, confrontation, and subsequent apology that only speaks what has gone unspoken.

That being said, Bakugou is a great example of the way that figures of authority (parents, teachers, adults) and institutions both in the real world and this fictional universe reward violent behavior while also leaving mental and emotional health — both his own and of the people Bakugou hurts — unchecked, and part of the way he lashes out at others is because he was never taught otherwise.

And by that, I’m referring to the ways that are to me, genuinely disturbing. For example, yelling at his friends is chill. But telling someone to kill themselves, even casually and without intent and then misinterpreting everything they do as a ploy to make you feel weak because you're projecting? And having no teachers stop and intervene, either because they are afraid of you or because they value the weight that your Quirk can benefit society over the safety of children? That, to me, is both real and disturbing.

Not only that, but his parents (at least, Mitsuki), respond to his outbursts with more outbursts, and while this is likely the culture of their home and I hesitate to call it abusive, I do think that it contributed to the way that he approaches things. Bakugou as a character is very complex, but I think that he is primarily an example of the way that the Hero System fails people.

I don’t think we can write off the things he’s done, especially using the line of reasoning that “He didn’t mean it that way”, because in real life, children who hurt others rarely mean it like that either, but that doesn’t change the effect it has on the people who are victimized, but to be absolutely fair, I don’t think that the majority of Bakudeku shippers, at least now, do use that line of reasoning. Most of them seem to have a handle on exactly how fucked up the Hero society is, and exactly why it fucks up the people embedded within that society.

The characters are positioned in this way for a reason, and the discoveries made and the development that these characters undergo are meant to reveal more about the fictional world — and, perhaps, our world — as the narrative progresses.

The world of the Hero society is dependent, to some degree, on biopolitics. I don’t think we have enough evidence to suggest that people with Quirks or Quirkless people place enough identity or placement within society to become equivalent to marginalized groups, exactly, but we can draw parallels to the way that Deku and by extent Quirkless people are viewed as weak, a deviation, or disabled in some way. Deviants, or non-productive bodies, are shunned for their inability to perform ideal labor. While it is suggested to Deku that he could become a police officer or pursue some other occupation to help people, he believes that he can do the most positive good as a Hero. In order to be a Hero, however, in the sense of a career, one needs to have Power.

Deviation from the norm will be punished or policed unless it is exploitable; in order to become integrated into society, a deviant must undergo a process of normalization and become a working, exploitable body. It is only through gaining power from All Might that Deku is allowed to assimilate from the margins and into the upper ranks of society; the manga and the anime give the reader enough perspective, context, and examples to allow us to critique and deconstruct the society that is solely reliant on power.

Through his societal privileges, interpersonal biases, internalized complexes, and his subsequent unlearning of these ideologies, Bakugou provides examples of the way that the system simultaneously fails and indoctrinates those who are targeted, neglected, enabled by, believe in, and participate within the system.

Bakudeku are two sides of the same coin. We are shown visually that the crucial turning point and fracture in their relationship is when Bakugou refuses to take Deku’s outstretched hand; the idea of Deku offering him help messes with his adolescent perspective in that Power creates a hierarchy that must be obeyed, and to be helped is to be weak is to be made a loser.

Largely, their character flaws in terms of understanding the hero society are defined and entangled within the concept of power. Bakugou has power, or privilege, but does not have the moral character to use it as a hero, and believes that Power, or winning, is the only way in which to view life. Izuku has a much better grasp on the way in which heroes wield power (their ideologies can, at first, be differentiated as winning vs. saving), and is a worthy successor because of this understanding, and of circumstance. However, in order to become a Hero, our hero must first gain the Power that he lacks, and learn to wield it.

As the characters change, they bridge the gaps of their character deficiencies, and are brought closer together through character parallelism.

Two sides of the same coin, an outstretched hand.

They are better together.

How to Kill Middle Schoolers, and Why We Should

I think it’s fitting that in the manga, a critical part of Bakugou’s arc explicitly alludes to killing the middle school version of himself in order to progress into a young adult. In the alternative covers Horikoshi released, one of them was a close up of Bakugou in his middle school uniform, being stabbed/impaled, with blood rolling out of his mouth. Clearly this references the scene in which he sacrifices himself to save Deku, on a near-instinctual level.

To me, this only cements Horikoshi’s intent that middle school Bakugou must be debunked, killed, discarded, or destroyed in order for Bakugou the hero to emerge, which is why people who do actually excuse his actions or believe that those actions define him into young adulthood don’t really understand the necessity for change, because they seem to imply that he doesn’t need/cannot reach further growth, and there doesn’t need to be a separation between the Bakugou who is, at heart, volatile and repressed the angry, and the Bakugou who sacrifices himself, a hero who saves people.

Plot twist: there does need to be a difference. Further plot twist: there is a difference.

In sacrificing himself for Deku, Bakugou himself doesn't die, but the injury is fatal in the sense that it could've killed him physically and yet symbolizes the selfish, childish part of him that refused to accept Deku, himself, and the inevitability of change. In killing those selfish remnants, he could actually become the kind of hero that we the reader understand to be the true kind.

That’s why I think that a lot of the people who stress his actions as a child without acknowledging the ways he has changed, grown, and tried to fix what he has broken don’t really get it, because it was always part of his character arc to change and purposely become something different and better. If the effects of his worst and his most childish self stick with you more, and linger despite that, that’s okay. But distilling his character down to the wrong elements doesn’t get you the bare essentials; what it gets you is a skewed and shallow version of a person. If you’re okay with that version, that is also fine.

But you can’t condemn others who aren’t fine with that incomplete version, and to become enraged that others do not see him as you do is childish.

Bakugou’s change and the emphasis on that change is canon.

Parallels in Abuse, EnemiesRivals-to-Lovers, and the Necessity of Redemption ft. ATLA’s Zuko

In real life, the idea that “oh, he must bully you because he likes you” is often used as a way to brush aside or to excuse the action of bullying itself, as if a ‘secret crush’ somehow negates the effects of bullying on the victim or the inability of the bully to properly process and manifest their emotions in certain ways. It doesn’t. It often enables young boys to hurt others, and provides figures of authority to overlook the real source of schoolyard bullying or peer review. The “secret crush”, in real life, is used to undermine abuse, justify toxic masculinity, and is essentially used as a non-solution solution.

A common accusation is that Bakudeku shippers jump on the pairing because they romanticize pairing a bully and a victim together, or believe that the only way for Bakugou to atone for his past would be to date Midoryia in the future. This may be true for some people, in which case, that’s their own preference, but based on my experience and what I’ve witnessed, that’s not the case for most.

The difference being is that as these are characters, we as readers or viewers are meant to analyze them. Not to justify them, or to excuse their actions, but we are given the advantage of the outsider perspective to piece their characters together in context, understand why they are how they are, and witness them change; maybe I just haven’t been exposed to enough of the fandom, but no one (I’ve witnessed) treats the idea that “maybe Bakugou has feelings he can’t process or understand and so they manifest in aggressive and unchecked ways'' as a solution to his inability to communicate or process in a healthy way, rather it is just part of the explanation of his character, something is needs to — and is — working through. The solution to his middle school self is not the revelation of a “teehee, secret crush”, but self-reflection, remorse, and actively working to better oneself, which I do believe is canonically reflected, especially as of recently.

In canon, they are written to be partners, better together than apart, and I genuinely believe that one can like the Bakudeku dynamic not by route of romanticization but by observation.

I do think we are meant to see parallels between him and Endeavor; Endeavor is a high profile abuser who embodies the flaws and hypocrisy of the hero system. Bakugou is a schoolyard bully who emulates and internalizes the flaws of this system as a child, likely due to the structure of the society and the way that children will absorb the propaganda they are exposed to; the idea that Quirks, or power, define the inherent value of the individual, their ability to contribute to society, and subsequently their fundamental human worth. The difference between them is the fact that Endeavor is the literal adult who is fully and knowingly active within a toxic, corrupt system who forces his family to undergo a terrifying amount of trauma and abuse while facing little to no consequences because he knows that his status and the values of their society will protect him from those consequences. In other words, Endeavor is the threat of what Bakugou could have, and would have, become without intervention or genuine change.

Comparisons between characters, as parallels or foils, are tricky in that they imply but cannot confirm sameness. Having parallels with someone does not make them the same, by the way, but can serve to illustrate contrasts, or warnings. Harry Potter, for example, is meant to have obvious parallels with Tom Riddle, with similar abilities, and tragic upbringings. That doesn’t mean Harry grows up to become Lord Voldemort, but rather he helps lead a cross-generational movement to overthrow the facist regime. Harry is offered love, compassion, and friends, and does not embrace the darkness within or around him. As far as moldy old snake men are concerned, they do not deserve a redemption arc because they do not wish for one, and the truest of change only occurs when you actively try to change.

To be frank, either way, Bakugou was probably going to become a good Hero, in the sense that Endeavor is a ‘good’ Hero. Hero capitalized, as in a pro Hero, in the sense that it is a career, an occupation, and a status. Because of his strong Quirk, determination, skill, and work ethic, Bakugou would have made a good Hero. Due to his lack of character, however, he was not on the path to become a hero; defender of the weak, someone who saves people to save people, who is willing to make sacrifices detrimental to themselves, who saves people out of love.

It is necessary for him to undergo both a redemption arc and a symbolic death and rebirth in order for him to follow the path of a hero, having been inspired and prompted by Deku.

I personally don’t really like Endeavor’s little redemption arc, not because I don’t believe that people can change or that they shouldn't at least try to atone for the atrocities they have committed, but because within any narrative, a good redemption arc is important if it matters; what also matters is the context of that arc, and whether or not it was needed. For example, in ATLA, Zuko’s redemption arc is widely regarded as one of the best arcs in television history, something incredible. And it is. That shit fucks. In a good way.

It was confirmed that Azula was also going to get a redemption arc, had Volume 4 gone on as planned, and it was tentatively approached in the comics, which are considered canon. She is an undeniably bad person (who is willing to kill, threaten, exploit, and colonize), but she is also a child, and as viewers, we witness and recognize the factors that contributed to her (debatable) sociopathy, and the way that the system she was raised in failed her. Her family failed her; even Uncle Iroh, the wise mentor who helps guide Zuko to see the light, is willing to give up on her immediately, saying that she’s “crazy” and needs to be “put down”. Yes, it’s comedic, and yes, it’s pragmatic, but Azula is fourteen years old. Her mother is banished, her father is a psychopath, and her older brother, from her perspective, betrayed and abandoned her. She doesn’t have the emotional support that Zuko does; she exploits and controls her friends because it’s all she’s been taught to do; she says herself, her “own mother thought [she] was a monster; she was right, of course, but it still [hurts]”. A parent who does not believe in you, or a parent that uses you and will hurt you, is a genuine indicator of trauma.

The writers understood that both Zuko and Azula deserved redemption arcs. One was arguably further gone than the other, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are both children, products of their environment, who have the time, motive, and reason to change.

In contrast, you know who wouldn’t have deserved a redemption arc? Ozai. That simply would not have been interesting, wouldn’t have served the narrative well, and honestly, is not needed, thematically or otherwise. Am I comparing Ozai to Endeavor? Basically, yes. Fuck those guys. I don’t see a point in Endeavor’s little “I want to be a good dad now” arc, and I think that we don’t need to sympathize with characters in order to understand them or be interested in them. I want Touya/Dabi to expose his abuse, for his career to crumble, and then for him to die.

If they are not challenging the system that we the viewer are meant to question, and there is no thematic relevance to their redemption, is it even needed?

On that note, am I saying that Bakugou is the equivalent to Zuko? No, lmao. Definitely not. They are different characters with different progressions and different pressures. What I am saying is that good redemption arcs shouldn’t be handed out like candy to babies; it is the quality, rather than the quantity, that makes a redemption arc good. In terms of the commentary of the narrative, who needs a redemption arc, who is deserving, and who does it make sense to give one to?

In this case, Bakugou checks those boxes. It was always in the cards for him to change, and he has. In fact, he’s still changing.

Give it to Me Straight. It’s Homophobic.

There does seem to be an urge to obsessively gender either Bakugou or Deku, in making Deku the ultra-feminine, stereotypically hyper-sexualized “woman” of the relationship, with Bakugou becoming similarly sexualized but depicted as the hyper-masculine bodice ripper. On some level, that feels vaguely homophobic if not straight up misogynistic, in that in a gay relationship there’s an urge to compel them to conform under heteronormative stereotypes in order to be interpreted as real or functional. On one hand, I will say that in a lot of cases it feels like more of an expression of a kink, or fetishization and subsequent expression of internalized misogyny, at least, rather than a genuine exploration of the complexity and power imbalances of gender dynamics, expression, and boundaries.

That being said, I don’t think that that problematic aspect of shipping is unique to Bakudeku, or even to the fandom in general. We’ve all read fan work or see fanart of most gay ships in a similiar manner, and I think it’s a broader issue to be addressed than blaming it on a singular ship and calling it a day.

One interpretation of Bakugou’s character is his repression and the way his character functions under toxic masculinity, in a society’s egregious disregard for mental and emotional health (much like in the real world), the horrifying ways in which rage is rationalized or excused due to the concept of masculinity, and the way that characteristics that are associated with femininity — intellect, empathy, anxiety, kindness, hesitation, softness — are seen as stereotypically “weak”, and in men, traditionally emasculating. In terms of the way that the fictional universe is largely about societal priority and power dynamics between individuals and the way that extends to institutions, it’s not a total stretch to guess that gender as a construct is a relevant topic to expand on or at least keep in mind for comparison.

I think that the way in which characters are gendered and the extent to which that is a result of invasive heteronormativity and fetishization is a really important conversation to have, but using it as a case-by-case evolution of a ship used to condemn people isn’t conductive, and at that point, it’s treated as less of a real concern but an issue narrowly weaponised.

Love in Perspective, from the East v. West

Another thing I think could be elaborated on and written about in great detail is the way that the Eastern part of the fandom and the Western part of the fandom have such different perspectives on Bakudeku in particular. I am not going to go in depth with this, and there are many other people who could go into specifics, but just as an overview:

The manga and the anime are created for and targeted at a certain audience; our take on it will differ based on cultural norms, decisions in translation, understanding of the genre, and our own region-specific socialization. This includes the way in which we interpret certain relationships, the way they resonate with us, and what we do and do not find to be acceptable. Of course, this is not a case-by-case basis, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who hold differing beliefs within one area, but speaking generally, there is a reason that Bakudeku is not regarded as nearly as problematic in the East.

Had this been written by a Western creator, marketed primarily to and within the West (for reference, while I am Chinese, but I have lived in the USA for most of my life, so my own perspective is undoubtedly westernized), I would’ve immediately jumped to make comparisons between the Hero System and the American police system, in that a corrupt, or bastardized system is made no less corrupt for the people who do legitimately want to do good and help people, when that system disproportionately values and targets others while relying on propaganda that society must be reliant on that system in order to create safe communities when in reality it perpetuates just as many issues as it appears to solve, not to mention the way it attracts and rewards violent and power-hungry people who are enabled to abuse their power. I think comparisons can still be made, but in terms of analysis, it should be kept in mind that the police system in other parts of the world do not have the same history, place, and context as it does in America, and the police system in Japan, for example, probably wasn’t the basis for the Hero System.

As much as I do believe in the Death of the Author in most cases, the intent of the author does matter when it comes to content like this, if merely on the basis that it provides context that we may be missing as foreign viewers.

As far as the intent of the author goes, Bakugou is on a route of redemption.

He deserves it. It is unavoidable. That, of course, may depend on where you’re reading this.

Stuck in the Sludge, the Past, and Season One

If there’s one thing, to me, that epitomizes middle school Bakugou, it’s him being trapped in a sludge monster, rescued by his Quirkless childhood friend, and unable to believe his eyes. He clings to the ideology he always has, that Quirkless means weak, that there’s no way that Deku could have grown to be strong, or had the capacity to be strong all along. Bakugou is wrong about this, and continuously proven wrong. It is only when he accepts that he is wrong, and that Deku is someone to follow, that he starts his real path to heroics.

If Bakudeku’s relationship does not appeal to someone for whatever reason, there’s nothing wrong with that. They can write all they want about why they don’t ship it, or why it bothers them, or why they think it’s problematic. If it is legitimately triggering to you, then by all means, avoid it, point it out, etc. but do not undermine the reality of abuse simply to point fingers, just because you don’t like a ship. People who intentionally use the anti tag knowing it’ll show up in the main tag, go after people who are literally minding their own business, and accuse people of supporting abuse are the ones looking for a fight, and they’re annoying as hell because they don’t bring anything to the table. No evidence, no analysis, just repeated projection.

To clarify, I’m referring to a specific kind of shipper, not someone who just doesn’t like a ship, but who is so aggressive about it for absolutely no reason. There are plenty of very lovely people in this fandom, who mind their own business, multipship, or just don’t care.

Calling shippers dumb or braindead or toxic (to clarify, this isn’t targeting any one person I’ve seen, but a collective) based on projections and generalizations that come entirely from your own impression of the ship rather than observation is...really biased to me, and comes across as uneducated and trigger happy, rather than constructive or helpful in any way.

I’m not saying someone has to ship anything, or like it, in order to be a ‘good’ participant. But inserting derogatory material into a main tag, and dropping buzzwords with the same tired backing behind it without seeming to understand the implications of those words or acknowledging the development, pacing, and intentional change to the characters within the plot is just...I don’t know, it comes across as redundant, to me at least, and very childish. Aggressive. Toxic. Problematic. Maybe the real toxic shippers were the ones who bitched and moaned along the way. They’re like little kids, stuck in the past, unable to visualize or recognize change, and I think that’s a real shame because it’s preventing them from appreciating the story or its characters as it is, in canon.

But that’s okay, really. To each their own. Interpretations will vary, preferences differ, perspectives are not uniform. There is no one truth. There are five seasons of the show, a feature film, and like, thirty volumes as of this year.

All I’m saying is that if you want to stay stuck in the first season of each character, then that’s what you’re going to get. That’s up to you.

This may be edited or revised.

[destiny-smasher]

Life is Strange: True Colors

Leading up to the release of Episode 1 of TellTale's The Walking Dead game, I was working freelance for GameRevolution at the time, lived in the area, and had the chance to play a build of the game to write a preview on it. I remember comparing it to Mass Effect because, at the time, there just...weren't games of that subgenre. Of course, by now we've seen an explosion of this type of game - the 'narrative/choice-driven game,' spearheaded and even oversaturated by Telltale to their own demise.

Out of all of the games that have come from that initial boom, Life is Strange by DontNod was and still is the most influential on my life, but I also have always harbored really conflicted feelings about it - especially with how it resolved its narrative. Hell, if you're reading this, you're probably aware that I spent a few years of my life creating a sequel fanstory which I even adapted a chunk of into visual novel format. Hundreds of thousands of words, days and days of life spent essentially trying to process and reconcile my conflicted feelings about this game's conclusion(s). Since then, I've been experimenting with interactive fiction and am currently developing my own original visual novel using everything I've learned from both creating and playing games in this genre. It's a subgenre of game I have a lot of interest and passion for because, when handled well, it can allow a player to sort of co-direct a guided narrative experience in a way that's unique compared to strictly linear cinematic experiences but still have a curated, focused sense of story.

Up until this point, I've regarded Night in the Woods as probably the singular best game of this style, with others like Oxenfree and The Wolf Among Us as other high marks. I've never actually put any Life is Strange game quite up there - none of them have reached that benchmark for me, personally. Until now, anyway.

But now, I can finally add a new game to that top tier, cream of the crop list. Life is Strange: True Colors is just damn good. I'm an incredibly critical person as it is - and that critique usually comes from a place of love - so you can imagine this series has been really hard to for me given that I love it, and yet have never truly loved any actual full entry in it. I have so many personal issues, quibbles, qualms, and frustration with Life is Strange: with every individual game, with how it has been handled by its publisher (my biggest issue at this point, actually), with how it has seemingly been taken away from its original development studio, with how it chooses to resolve its narratives...

But with True Colors, all of those issues get brushed aside long enough for me to appreciate just how fucking well designed it is for this style of game. I can appreciate how the development team, while still clearly being 'indie' compared to other dev teams working under Square-Enix, were able to make such smart decisions in how to design and execute this game. Taken on its own merits, apart from its branding, True Colors is absolutely worth playing if you enjoy these 'telltale' style games. Compared to the rest of the series, I would argue it's the best one so far, easily. I had a lot of misgivings and doubts going in, and in retrospect, those are mostly Square-Enix's fault. Deck Nine, when given the freedom to make their own original game in the same vein as the previous three, fucking nailed it as much as I feel like they could, given the kinds of limitations I presume they were working within.

I'm someone who agonizes every single time there is news for Life is Strange as a series - someone who essentially had to drop out of the fandom over infighting, then dropped out of even being exposed to the official social media channels for it later on (I specifically have the Square-Enix controlled channels muted). I adore Max and Chloe, and as a duo, as a couple, they are one of my top favorites not just in gaming, but in general. They elevated the original game to be something more than the sum of its parts for me. And while I have enjoyed seeing what DontNod has made since, it's always been their attention to detail in environmental craftsmanship, in tone and atmosphere, which has caught my interest. They're good at creating characters with layers, but imo they've never nailed a narrative arc. They've never really hit that sweet spot that makes a story truly resonate with me. Deck Nine's previous outing, Before the Storm, was all over the place, trying to mimic DontNod while trying to do its own things - trying to dig deeper into concepts DontNod deliberately left open for interpretation while also being limited in what it could do as a prequel.

But with True Colors, those awkward shackles are (mostly) off. They have told their own original story, keeping in tone and concept with previous Life is Strange games, and yet this also feels distinctly different in other ways.

Yes, protagonist Alex Chen is older than previous characters, and most of the characters in True Colors are young adults, as opposed to teenagers. Yes, she has a supernatural ability. And yes, the game is essentially a linear story with some freedom in how much to poke around at the environment and interact with objects/characters, with the primary mechanic being making choices which influence elements of how the story plays out. None of this is new to the genre, or even Life is Strange. But the execution was clearly planned out, focused, and designed with more caution and care than games like this typically get.

A smaller dev team working with a budget has to make calls on how to allocate that budget. With True Colors, you will experience much fewer locales and environments than you will in Life is Strange 2. Fewer locations than even Life is Strange 1, by my count. But this reinforces the game's theming. I suspect the biggest hit to the game's budget was investing in its voice acting (nothing new for this series) but specifically in the motion capture and facial animation.

You have a game about a protagonist trying to fit in to a small, tightly knit community. She can read the aura of people's emotions and even read their minds a little. And the game's budget and design take full advantage of this. You spend your time in a small main street/park area, a handful of indoor shops, your single room apartment. It fits within a tighter budget, but it reinforces the themes the game is going for. Your interactions with characters are heightened with subtle facial cues and microexpressions, which also reinforces the mechanic and theming regarding reading, accepting, and processing emotions. And you get to make some choices that influence elements of this - influenced by the town, influenced by the emotions of those around you, which reinforce the main plot of trying to navigate a new life in a small town community.

When I think about these types of games, the conclusion is always a big deal. In a way, it shouldn't be, because I usually feel it's about the journey, not the destination. And as an example, I actually really dislike the ending of the original Life is Strange. I think it's a lot of bullshit in many ways. The setpiece is amazing and epic, sure, but the actual storytelling going on is...really hollow for me. Yes, the game does subtly foreshadow in a number of ways that this is the big choice it's leading up to, but the game never actually makes sense of it. And the problem is, if your experience is going to end on a big ol' THIS or THAT kind of moment, it needs to make sense or the whole thing will fall apart as soon as the credits are rolling and the audience spends a moment to think about what just happened. When you look at the end of Season 1 of Telltale's The Walking Dead, it's not powerful just because of what choice you're given, but because through the entire final episode, we know the stakes - we know what is going to ultimately happen, and we know the end of the story is fast approaching. All of the cards are on the table by the time we get to that final scene, and it works so well because we know why it's happening, and it is an appropriate thematic climax that embodies the theming of the entire season. It works mechanically, narratively, and thematically, and 'just makes sense.'

The ending of Life is Strange 1 doesn't do that, if you ask me. The ending of most games in this genre don't really hit that mark. When I get to the end of most game 'seasons' like this, even ones I enjoy, I'm typically left frustrated, confused, and empty in a way.

The ending of True Colors, on the other hand, nails everything it needs to. Handily, when compared to its peers.

If you're somehow reading this and have not played this game but intend to, now is probably where you should duck out, as I will be

discussing SPOILERS from the entire game, specifically the finale.

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Firstly, since I don't know where else to put this, some criticisms I found with the game. And honestly, they're all pretty damn minor compared to most games of this type.

Mainly, I just wish the whole Typhon thing was handled a bit more deliberately. It's a bit weird to do the 'big evil corporation' thing (especially when a big corporation like Square Enix occupies as much as or even more of the credits to this game than the people who actually MADE it?) without offering more explanation and subtlety. The game certainly makes some efforts but they're mostly small and mostly optional, like background chatter or a handful of one-off bits of documentation/etc. you can find in the environment. I feel like Diane in particular needed to be fleshed out just a little bit more to really sell us on how and why things like this happen, why corporations make decisions that cost people their happiness, security, and lives and they just get to keep on doing it. I think just a little bit that is unavoidable to the player that puts emphasis on maybe how much the town relies on the money/resources Typhon provides would've helped. Again, this is minor, but it stands out when I have so little else to critique.

I would've liked to get more insight on why Jed is the way he is. No, I don't think we really needed to learn more about his backstory, or even really his motivations. I think we get enough of that. I just think it would've been great to somehow highlight more deliberately how/why he's built up this identity overtop of what he's trying to suppress. Maybe even just having Alex internally realize, "Wait, what the hell, Jed has been hiding these emotions and my powers haven't picked up on it?" or something to that effect could have added an extra oomph to highlight how Jed seems to be coping with his emotions by masking/suppressing them. Also really minor complaint, but again...there's not much else here I can think to really improve on within the confines of what's in the game.

The game doesn't really call Alex's power into question morally. Like. Max has an entire meltdown by the end of her story, second-guessing if she's even helped anyone at all, if she has 'the right' to do so, how her powers might be affecting or expressing her own humanity and flaws...this story doesn't really get into that despite a very similar concept of manipulating others. There's like one bit in a document you can choose to read in Alex's 'nightmare' scene, but that's really it. I feel like this sentiment and how it's executed could have easily been expanded upon in just this one scene to capture what made that Max/Other Max scene do what it did in a way that would address the moral grayness of Alex's powers and how she uses them, and give players a way to express their interpretation of that. Also, very small deal, just another tidbit I would've liked to see.

When I first watched my wife play through Episode 5 (I watched her play through the game first, then I played it myself), I wasn't really feeling the surreal dreamscape stuff of Alex's flashbacks - which is weird, because if you're read my work from the past few years, you'll know I usually love that sort of shit. I think what was throwing me off was that it didn't really feel like it was tying together what the game was about up until that point, and felt almost like it was just copying what Life is Strange did with Max's nightmare sequence (minus the best part of that sequence, imo, where Max literally talks to herself).

But by the time I had seen the rest of the story, and re-experienced it myself, I think it clicked better. This is primarily a story about Alex Chen trying to build a new life for herself in a new community - a small town, a tightly knit place. Those flashbacks are specifically about Alex's past, something we only get teeny tiny tidbits of, and only really if we go looking for them. I realized after I gave myself a few days to process and play through the game myself that this was still a fantastic choice because it reinforces the plot reasons why Alex is even in the town she's in (because her father went there, and her brother in turn went there looking for him), and it reinforces the theme of Alex coming to accept her own emotions and confront them (as expressed through how the flashbacks are played out and the discussions she has with the image of Gabe in her mind, which is really just...another part of herself trying to get her to process things).

By the time Alex escapes the mines and returns to the Black Lantern, all of the cards are on the table. By that point, we as the audience know everything we need to. Everything makes sense - aside from arguably why Jed has done what he has done, but put a pin in that for a sec. We may not know why Alex has the powers she does, but we have at least been given context for how they manifested - as a coping mechanism of living a life inbetween the cracks of society, an unstable youth after her family fell apart around her (and oof, trust me, I can relate with this in some degree, though not in exactly the same ways). And unlike Max's Rewind power, the story and plot doesn't put this to Alex's throat, like it's all on her to make some big choice because she is the way she is, or like she's done something wrong by pursuing what she cares about (in this case, the truth, closure, and understanding).

When Alex confronts Jed in front of all of the primary supporting characters, it does everything it needs to.

Mechanically: it gives players choices for how to express their interpretation of events, and how Alex is processing them; it also, even more importantly, uses the 'council' as a way of expressing how the other characters have reacted to the choices the player has made throughout the game, and contributes to how this climax feels. We're given a 'big choice' at the end of the interaction that doesn't actually change the plot, or even the scene, really (it just affects like one line of dialogue Alex says right then) and yet BOTH choices work so well as a conclusion, it's literally up to your interpretation and it gives you an in-game way to express that.

Thematically: the use of the council reinforces the game's focus on community; and the way the presentation of the scene stays locked in on Alex and Jed's expressions reinforces its focus on emotion - not to mention that the entire scene also acts as a way to showcase how Alex has come to accept, understand, and process her own emotions while Jed, even THEN, right fucking at the moment of his demise, is trying to mask his emotions, to hide them and suppress them and forget them (something the game has already expressed subtly by way of his negative emotions which would give him away NOT being visible to Alex even despite her power).

Narratively: we are given a confrontation that makes sense and feels edifying to see play out after everything we've experienced and learned. We see Alex use her powers in a new and exciting way that further builds the empowering mood the climax is going for and adds a cinematic drama to it. No matter what decisions the player makes, Alex has agency in her own climax, we experience her making a decision, using her power, asserting herself now that she has gone through the growth this narrative has put her through. Alex gets to resolve her shit, gets to have her moment to really shine and experience the end of a character arc in this narrative.

Without taking extra time to design the game around these pillars, the finale wouldn't be so strong. If they didn't give us enough opportunities to interact with the townspeople, their presence in the end wouldn't matter, but everyone who has a say in the council is someone we get an entire scene (at least one) dedicated to interacting with them and their emotions. If they didn't implement choices in the scene itself, it would still be powerful but we wouldn't feel as involved, it'd be more passive. If they didn't showcase Alex's power, we might be left underwhelmed, but they do so in a way that actually works in the context through how they have chosen to present it, while also just tonally heightening the climax by having this drastic lighting going on. If they didn't have the council involved, we'd lose the theming of community. If they didn't have the foil of Alex/Jed and how they have each processed their emotions, we'd miss that key component. And if we didn't have such detailed facial animations, the presentation just wouldn't be as effective.

Ryan/Steph are a little bit like, in this awkward sideline spot during the climax? Steph always supports you, and Ryan supports you or doubts you conditionally, which is unsurprising but also ties into the themes of Ryan having grown up woven into this community, and Steph being once an outsider who has found a place within it. They're still there, either way, which is important. The only relevant characters who aren't present are more supporting characters like Riley, Ethan, and Mac. Ethan being the only one of those who gets an entire 'super emotions' scene, but that also marks the end of his arc and role in the story, so...it's fine. Mac and Riley are less important and younger, as well, and have their own side story stuff you have more direct influence on, too.

But damn, ya'll, this climax just works so well. It especially stands out to me given just how rarely I experience a conclusion/climax that feels this rewarding.

And then after that we get a wonderful montage of a theoretical life Alex might live on to experience. Her actions don't overthrow a conglomerate billionaire company. She doesn't even save a town, really. If the entire council thinks you're full of shit, Jed still confesses either way - because it's not up to the council whether he does this, it's because of Alex, regardless of player choice. Honestly, even after a playthrough where I made most choices differently from my wife, there weren't really many changes to that montage at the end. It'd have been great if it felt more meaningfully different, but maybe it can be. Even if not, the design intent is there and the execution still works. It's a really nice way to end the story, especially since it's not even a literal montage but one Alex imagines - again, her processing what she's gone through, what she desires, expressed externally for us to see it. And for once, the actual final 'big decision' in a game of this type manages to be organic, make sense, and feel good and appropriate either way. You choose to either have Alex stay in Haven Springs and continue building her life there, or you can choose to have her leave and try to be an indie musician, with the events of the game being yet another chunk of her life to deal with and move on from (I haven't really touched on it, but music, especially as a way to express and process emotions, is a recurring thing, much like photography was in the original game, or Sean's illustrations in LiS2). For once, a climactic 'pick your ending' decision that doesn't feel shitty. It's pretty rare for this genre, honestly.

I could - and already have, and likely will - have so much more to say about this game and its details, but I really wanted to focus on touching upon a main element that has left me impressed: the way the entire game feels designed. It feels intentionally constructed but in a way that reinforces what it is trying to express as a story. It's not just trying to make people cry for the sake of 'emotions.' It is a game literally about emotions and it comes to a conclusion in a way that is clearly saying something positive and empowering about empathy and self-acceptance.

Storytelling is a craft, like any other, and it entails deliberate choices and decisions that can objectively contribute to how effective a story is for its intended audience.

A good story isn't something you find, after all.

It's something you build.

[esmeraldablazingsky]

I’ve finally hit my limit on the number of bad takes on the Lan parents I can see before I have to lay out all the reasons I disagree, so hello, I’m Blazie, and in this essay I will justify my visceral dislike of the assumption that Qingheng-jun married/imprisoned/had sex with Lan-furen against her will.

    Warning for mentions of rape (in context of Interpretations I Really Hate) and a very, VERY long post below the cut.

    Before I start going off about the finer points of all this, I want to make sure people are on the same page regarding what we actually know about what went down with Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen. What I say is based off the EXR translation of MDZS, for the sake of clarity, and although I don’t think the exact wording should be too important, feel free to let me know if you think I’ve missed an important bit of nuance or something (the whole story is in Chapter 64.)

    The story we get is told by Lan Xichen, and it goes like this: a young Qingheng-jun falls in love at first sight with Lan-furen, who doesn’t return his feelings, and at some point kills one of Qingheng-jun’s teachers over unspecified “grievances.” Although he’s understandably very upset over the murder, Qingheng-jun sneaks Lan-furen back to Cloud Recesses and officially marries her in order to announce to his clan that anyone who wants to hurt her has to go through him.

After that, he locks Lan-furen in one house and himself in another as a form of repentance. Wei Wuxian speculates that this was because “he could neither forgive the one who killed his teacher nor watch the death of the woman who he loved. He could only marry her to protect her life and force himself not to see her.” 

    A central detail of this story that I think people don’t give the import it deserves is that aside from marrying and protecting her, Qingheng-jun’s other option was to let Lan-furen be executed by his clan. His purpose in marrying her wasn’t just for kicks/out of a possessive sort of love, it was so she wouldn’t straight up die. How she felt about this arrangement isn’t stated, but I’ll get into that in a bit. In addition to that, Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen live separately, which was apparently purposeful on Qingheng-jun’s part, and runs counter to the interpretation that he intended to take sexual advantage of Lan-furen.

Though there aren’t many concrete details in Lan Xichen’s retelling, he does specifically inform Wei Wuxian that his mother never complained about remaining in her house. What exactly this signifies is unclear— whether she was simply putting on a brave face for her sons, or whether she was in fact at all content with the situation— but it at the very least serves to further muddy the waters on how she and Qingheng-jun felt about all this. 

Beyond what Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian are saying out loud, there’s also quite a bit of subtext in this scene, especially in light of later events and revelations, like Lan Xichen’s confession for Lan Wangji at Guanyin Temple. 

So what is Lan Xichen trying to convey with all this? There’s a lot of memes about this scene, most of which err too far on the side of Himbo Airhead Lan Xichen for my liking, but one that I do find amusing emphasizes how Lan Xichen draws parallels between Wangxian and the story of his parents (Lan Xichen: [flute solo] please use your one brain cell to connect the dots.) If Wei Wuxian hadn’t completely lost his memory of Lan Wangji defending him against his own clan elders, one would assume that Lan Xichen’s story would have had a much better chance of hitting home. 

In hindsight and side by side, the parallels are much clearer— Qingheng-jun, “ignoring the objections from his clan… told everyone in the clan that she would be his wife for the rest of his life, that whoever wanted to harm her would have to pass through him first.” Similarly, according to Lan Xichen in Chapter 99, “for [Wei Wuxian,] not only did WangJi talk back to him, he even met with his sword the cultivators from the GusuLan Sect. He heavily injured all thirty-three of the seniors we asked to come.”

In that context, it makes a lot less sense to interpret Qingheng-jun as an aggressor towards Lan-furen, as in Lan Wangji’s case, the narrative clearly establishes that his actions are to secure Wei Wuxian’s safety. The action of Taking Someone Back To Cloud Recesses is— okay, actually, it’s a little more nuanced than I took into account when I started writing that sentence, so let me go a little deeper into Lan Wangji’s actions and how they relate to his father’s, story-wise. 

My intent is not to dive into the terrifying underworld of novel-versus-drama discourse, but simply put, Novel!Lan Wangji as he is written isn’t exactly the poster child for clear consent. (I’m going to entirely leave off the extra chapters for the sake of everyone’s sanity, so I’m just talking about the main body of the novel here.)

He means well, and I’m sure we can agree that he does actually love and want the best for Wei Wuxian, but his lack of communication on this point means that he accidentally gives Wei Wuxian the impression that he wants to imprison and/or punish him in Cloud Recesses at least twice off the top of my head (pre-timeskip, as we know, and post-timeskip immediately after Dafan Mountain when he actually drags Wei Wuxian back to his room.) 

That all likely has something to do with MXTX’s narrative kinks and regular kinks and all that, and can absolutely be taken with many grains of salt. However, these events establish how easy it is to misinterpret the action of Taking Someone Back To Gusu as an attempt to imprison rather than protect them (much to Lan Wangji’s chagrin.)

Failing to communicate his purpose to Wei Wuxian doesn’t mean that Lan Wangji actually had any intent of hurting or caging him— that was just a misinterpretation on Wei Wuxian’s part, and we, as the audience, find that out in due time— but as written in the novel, it can be really uncomfortable to read. Because of that, many people choose to accept CQL canon regarding Lan Wangji’s more possessive actions or mix characterization from different adaptations, which, to be clear, I completely understand and respect. 

However, Qingheng-jun doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt as often, which I frankly find baffling, because nowhere in the text does it state that Lan-furen objected to being taken back to Cloud Recesses, while even Wei Wuxian clearly objected the first few times. In fact, while we’re on this note, I’ll take it a step farther— I find it baffling that people seem to default to an unsympathetic view of Qingheng-jun, because nowhere in the text does it state that he overruled Lan-furen’s wishes in any way. The text doesn’t clarify a lot of things, actually, and that is part of the point. 

The narrators of MDZS are, in many situations, highly unreliable. This is, presumably, very purposeful! MDZS can easily be read as a sharp criticism of reputation and mass judgment and the concept of condemning people without knowing their motives! And I don’t want to sound mean, but guys… did any of us learn anything from that? Here, I’m going to put it in meme format for a second to convey what I mean. 

MDZS: It’s easy to condemn someone as a villain if you don’t know their story or the reasons behind their actions

MDZS: Anyway, here’s a character whose story and reasons behind his actions you know nothing about

Some Parts Of This Fandom: Ah, a villain 

    Memes aside, here’s what I want to point out. It’s entirely possible to assume Qingheng-jun was a bad person who disregarded a woman’s wishes in marrying and confining her when all you have is Lan Xichen’s (actually very neutral, thank you Lan Xichen for being an eminently reasonable and concerned-with-evidence character) account of what happened. It would also be at least that easy to assume Wei Wuxian was just an evil necromancer if he hadn’t un-died and brought his own story to light, or even to believe that Lan Wangji had somehow tamed Wei Wuxian into submission and being a respectable cultivator if you were an average citizen of Fantasy Ancient China with nothing but rumors to operate on. 

    The thing about Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen’s story, then, is that there is nobody left alive who knows the full tale. Nobody knows what they thought about anything, really. Nobody even knows why Lan-furen killed Qingheng-jun’s teacher. Wei Wuxian asks why, and Lan Xichen can’t tell him, but I think the best answer would be something along the lines of I don’t know, Wei Wuxian, why did you kill people? Your guess on the motivations of your own thinly disguised narrative parallel are as good as anyone’s. 

    So, while it’s not technically impossible to assign darker motives to Qingheng-jun, the cautionary tale of MDZS seems to warn against that exact assumption. 

    I’ve refrained from getting too salty on a personal level thus far, but now that I’ve said a lot of the more logical and story-based points of my argument, I will say that at least some of my annoyance with the interpretation of Qingheng-jun as a possessive rapist and Lan-furen as his victim stems from the fact that I just think it’s straight up boring. Where’s the nuance? Aren’t you tired of reducing these characters to the flattest possible versions of themselves? Don’t you just want to add a little flavor? 

    In a slightly more serious phrasing of that criticism, I find that making Lan-furen a helpless prisoner strips her of whatever agency she might otherwise have. To be fair, she’s more or less a non-character in keeping with the general state of the MDZS universe, but making her a damsel in distress only consigns her more deeply to hapless, milquetoast innocence. 

    It’s perfectly valid to enjoy ladies who have done nothing wrong, ever, in their lives, but like… Qin Su is right there, if that’s your ball game. There’s also really no need to make Qingheng-jun someone who doesn’t respect women. Isn’t Jin Guangshan enough for at least one universe? 

    Anyway, ultimately, you do you. I don’t like arguing on the internet, and will just ignore things I don’t agree with (or write an 1800 word vaguepost) like a mature human being. I’m just saying, if it’s a cut and dry tale of imprisonment and assault you’re looking for… you probably don’t want to turn to a woman who committed a murder and a man who loved her enough to forfeit everything to keep her safe. 

[polandspringz]

Poland’s Thoughts on the OM Angel Event

AKA- I’m trying to bridge this divide in the fandom that only seems to worsen with every piece of new content

So, I just finished the new event, but before I even finished it I saw in the tags a lot of people posting about it and the majority of the reactions were negative. There’s a chance I’m reading the language in the posts a little too strongly, but I think that a lot of this anger towards the developers is misplaced, and this isn’t just limited to the OM fandom, but it is one example that can be representative of a growing issue in how we as fans consume media and interpret content, especially when it extends to how we interact with the creators of said content.

To begin, I understand what people are angry about with this event. They disliked the way the brothers were forced against their will (consent is a term I am seeing thrown around on a few posts) to act righteous, due to the bangles Simeon gave on them that were imbued with magic. People are upset seeing the brothers acting so unlike themselves, Diavolo’s role in it, as both an instigator and bystander, and how Simeon was characterized throughout this event as he largely did not see much wrong with what was happening.

I think the reason so many players are leaving this event with a sour taste is because of the lack of closure. I was taking notes on the entire event and waiting for the end to undo everything like usual and we get the characters discussing how happy they were to be back to normal again or we at least get some of their own thoughts on the experience. I was surprised that we did not get that this time, instead, we only see all the brothers continue to act unlike themselves under the spell, way too cheery and perfect with only Lucifer having partially broken the spell and watching on amused, acting as another bystander in the event. We are given the implication that the rest will return to normal in due time (somewhat like the ending of the Paws event, if I am recalling correctly) but it’s not concrete enough. We should have been given at least an extra few lines of dialogue of the characters back to normal giving their comments on the situation they went through, but because we didn’t, they don’t have any autonomy still, and we as the players are left uncertain about what is our interpretation and what is canon.

However, despite us missing this ending scene, I think the narrative of the event is undeniably still about the idea of one’s true self being important, flaws and all, and I think a lot of players are missing this concept.

When I said earlier that I think many fandoms are suffering from this problem, I’m referring to this problem where fans will gleam a theme from a work, often times it is a theme meant to showcase something problematic, and then the fans will turn on the authors and go “well it’s problematic so the creators’ are in the wrong”, forgetting that the only reason they’re interpreting it as being wrong is because the creators’ intentionally added that frame into the story. I have more strong feelings about this in the BNHA fandom, but for now, let’s stick to the OM fandom and this specific event:

1) Players are mad that the brothers were forcibly changed and not acting like themselves.

This is a valid thing to be angry about, but I am surprised seeing how many people are ignoring the fact that you as the player are given options to acknowledge that you dislike the “righteous” way the characters are being forced to behave. There are multiple points throughout this event where, when the brothers are apologizing or explaining the MC how much they’ve changed, that you can chose an option to say “I liked the old you”, “There’s something off,” or something akin to that. OM does have an issue with a lot of the dialogue options for the MC being a bit too passive, but in this event, you are not forced to like the behavior. During my playthrough of it, I actually refused to kiss some of the characters and almost exclusively told them I disliked the way they were acting even if it was something good like giving to charity in Mammon’s case.

In terms of the brothers’ being forced to act this way against their will, although the overall event does not paint this in a dark tone (it treats the brothers’ actions the same way it does any of their individual scenes with MC in other events), there are pieces of dialogue that help create this theme of choice and free will. In the first set of lessons, Beel says to the MC “It’s something I want to do, not because I’m obligated to.” A few lessons later, Belphegor says “It’s the first time I’ve felt so free.” There is blatant irony in these lines because we as the players know that there is nothing about freedom or wants/personal desires coming from these characters in this state. It’s not even dramatic irony because the MC witnessed and knows that the brothers are under a spell, hence why you can still say you miss how they were acting and that Solomon even acknowledges that things feel wrong. When I see players comment about how they are upset about the brothers being forced to act this way, I don’t understand how they are mad at the writers when it is written in the way that you are supposed to know their words are disingenuous. I will admit that the light hearted tone does offset it and make it seem as if the developers are painting their actions in a good light, but we as the MC are constantly given the option to say that something is wrong. This is not a matter of the developers seeing it as a “good” thing, but they leave it up to the player to make the choice to choose whether to embrace the way the brothers are acting as a positive thing (and personally all the options where you agree with the controlled actions of the brothers’ made me feel as though- if I chose them- that MC was not in a healthy, truthful relationship with the brothers).

In terms of the “consent” argument being thrown around, it is a valid word choice to use in this situation, however, I am surprised to see no one talking about the scene with Lucifer directly involving consent with MC. In lesson 1-12, when you are in his room with him, he asks you to get on the bed, and then pushes you down before the spell controlling him corrects his actions and he apologizes. It is not shown that he pushes you, but the flow of the scene is this-

Lucifer asks MC to get on the bed. Noise is then heard as if someone was putting weight on the bed and Lucifer says “You really trust me quite a lot,” before he says “I didn’t mean to push you down like that.”

Some players may have read it as the MC getting on the bed themselves, and whether Lucifer pushed them onto the bed is debatable, but it’s heavily implied that he at the very least pushes you down onto the bed. I think if anything, the use of the word consent in terms of this event needs to be applied here, as Lucifer forces the MC down without their consent (player is not given an option about whether to comply with his request) before the angelic-form makes him apologize for what he did. I normally am against the people who dislike how evil the demons act (they’re demons! They’re meant to be acting sinful or wrong or disagreeable with our own morals) but I just thought that if people are going to talk about consent in terms of the brothers, we should acknowledge how the theme of consent and choice is also shown in scenes like this, where the spell on Lucifer actually does a good thing by correcting his behavior when he was doing something wrong.

However, there is one more point I want to make about this event, and it follows this discussion about the demon’s behavior-

2) This event, had it been given closure, would’ve had a strong theme of accepting oneself.

This is most clearly seen with Levi and Satan. With Satan, we are aware of his dislike of his rage, his wrath. He does not like to get angry, and puts on masks to try and seem better than his core sin makes him feel. However, when he gets turned into an angel, he specifically says:

“Perhaps that’s why I feel so strange. I don’t feel like myself at all. I end up thinking about if I were an angel, would i have looked and felt like this? And then... I get a foreboding feeling. Like, my heart... becoming tranquil. Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad right? Something isn’t right.”

Once again, I would like to point out that the reason that players are able to look at this event and say, “The brothers are being forced to not act like themselves, and that’s bad and upsets me as a player” is because the writers themselves are writing into the story that it is bad. Satan is directly acknowledging that he dislikes what is going on, hence why we as players can say that something is wrong. This isn’t my core analysis of this dialogue, but once again, it is something I am growing tired of seeing people attack or complain about the creators for writing something that is “bad”, as if the creators did not write in the fact that “this is a bad thing.” You can criticize media and the way things are written, but if you are going to ignore the fact that what you’re claiming the writers are ignoring has already been written, your criticism holds little weight.

Moving on, my main takeaway from this scene was that Satan, a character who has spent so long loathing his anger and how he loses himself during it, was upset by his lack of it. We as the MC got very little dialogue in this scene to push the idea further, but to me it was clear that had the story been given more closure, or the events having more story to include more focus on each character, we could have gotten more of a direct statement from Satan of something like “I always disliked my rage, but without it, I don’t feel like me. I’m who I am because of my rage, it’s not something I should be ashamed of.” If that had been included, I’m sure players would have once again been much happier about this event. However, we shouldn’t need such a direct statement of character development to understand that development has happened. One of the biggest techniques about writing dialogue is the idea that when people talk, they don’t say everything, which I see a lot of fandoms griping about when characters don’t directly express things like trauma or abuse in concrete terms or have conversations where they directly say things like “You did something bad to me and I won’t forgive you for that” (I can’t think of the best example right now because it’s 2 AM but again, I have better examples when talking about the BNHA fandom). Ernest Hemingway and his iceberg technique focused on this idea of people rarely saying what they mean, and it’s a much more realistic approach to dialogue.

I’m not saying the writing of OM is anything near the works of great writers. However, I am saying that we shouldn’t need characters to be so unnatural and direct in their dialogue to be satisfied that development has been had or resolution has been met. It’s not natural for them to outright say so, and as readers we shouldn’t need such explicit confirmation of such things (note: when using “confirmation” I am only talking about instances of development, and not things like confirmed representation of LGBTQ or characters expressing their sexuality. Those are entirely different situations requiring different discussion. Please do not misconstrue my words).

Back to the themes of the choice and accepting oneself, I want to end this on the character that truly got the short end of this event- Levi. Levi was so instantaneously changed to have righteous actions and a similar mindset, and there was very little discussion on it within the game itself. However, although Levi does not express much outside of his “controlled” state in this event, when he talks about his “old lifestyle”, we as players can still get a lot from it:

“Huh? My identity? Was my identity solely based on me being an otaku? I’ve been using anime, manga, and games to hide all this time... Always looking down on others while locking myself away in my own world. But not anymore! Instead of spending all my time and energy on 2D stuff, I’m going to spend it on nurturing my relationships in the real world. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

It does not sound wonderful, because it brings up the questions of “Was there anything actually wrong with Levi’s lifestyle to begin with?” Sure, he was a shut in, and that can’t be healthy, and he had a bad self loathing issue, but, he found happiness in anime, manga, and games. He found happiness in sharing it with you the player. We know this from the main storyline, and so we know that Levi is obviously not truly thinking this, but unfortunately we never get to see a conclusion of his thoughts on this, and he is given no autonomy by the end of the event to comment on his words here. I will agree with people that Levi’s is the most upsetting, partially because it makes my fanfiction writer mind spin into thoughts of him trapped inside his body wanting to keep his things but being forced to throw them out. That is upsetting. But it is not something we should be attacking or getting mad at the writers for, because if you are reading the story right, it can be seen as meant to evoke that reaction. Likely if you are Levi stan, this scene upset you, and you should be unhappy to see him acting this way. You should know something’s wrong, because there was nothing wrong with how Levi was living before. But, the last big theme of the event is the idea of good vs. evil, or right vs. wrong, and as we are playing a game where the main idea is to romance demons, we are always going to be skewed to see the traditional “good” side (of Simeon and the angels) as not truly good, and the “bad” side (of the demons) as not really that bad. We can sympathize with them, we understand and feel upset at seeing them slighted by what is considered “good. I saw one person bring up the idea of this event evoking questions of ethics, and I agree, but I’m better at explaining things through philosophy. This event, especially for Simeon’s character, brings to mind questions of if the Celestial Realm in the game’s universe is actually good and has the best interests of others in mind, or if it is actually deeply flawed by its staunchness to what is considered goodness? (We can see similar discussions in shows like Good Omens.)

To conclude, I just want to finish up on Simeon’s character in this event. I saw many exclamations of “why would he do this? What’s wrong with him?” and I like to present the idea that Simeon is much stronger of a manipulator than we have been viewing him through the lens of “holy angel”. He writes TSL based on the brothers, he likely views them as content to inspire him. He does not care for them as deeply as we as the fandom may be twisting him to be. Overall, I find all these problems with reading and analyzing media to stem from people having trouble interpreting morally gray characters, themes, and actions, and often they claim an author is making something black and white when the author is actually directly telling the reader things are not black and white. OM is such a small fandom in the grand scheme of things, but rather than me rehashing an argument in a much larger fandom, this seemed like a refreshing, safer place to start.

If you read through all this, I do hope you enjoyed. My ask box is always open if you want to hear more of my thoughts.

[janiedean]

i find it funny that all the arguments against sansan or sanrion is about the age gap being problematic and then people ship her with jaime who's OLDER THAN TYRION and i think also older than sandor OR they'll ship her with jon who she grew up considering a brother and is actually a cousin making it incestuous. oh and when the books start theon is like 18-19 years old while sansa is like 11 i think? but yes, tell me more about why your sansa ships are superior to sansan or sanrion LOL. oh also let's not forget the ~pure~ ship of sansaery where margaery basically pretends to be friends with sansa and acts nice for her own advantage which is easy to do since she's lonely in king's landing but drops her th emoment it gets convenient, not to mention pretty much framing her from joff's murder which like sure, sansa escaped cuz LF had it planned but if not she would've been killed then :) a very healthy dynamic indeed. they really don't want to admit that they only care to ship sansa with canonically hot guys and their real problem with sansan and sanrion is both sandor and tyrion are supposed to be ugly and physically quite the opposite of the prince charming she's looking for (but they are more prince-like in character) and ignore that her whole arc is learning to look beyond appearances and names and superficial stories.

I mean other than confirming you that jaime's older than sandor bc jaime has seven years on tyrion who's three-four years younger than sandor and sandor's like 29 in agot... he's older than both of them and I'd like to add willas tyrell to the list of people that are seen as better options.... and he's also older than both sandor and tyrion, I... can't disagree with anything here because like we don't even wanna touch my beef with sans*ery but it's for the same reasons as you said and at the end of it I also can't disagree with the last paragraph because that's... like... the point of the narrative like sansa is obv ending up with someone who doesn't look hot for standards but is actually good on the inside which both of them fit the standard for, and again while I think sandor's it for obv reasons if sanrion was endgame I wouldn't be complaining (ngl I was hoping lowkey for them to get the show bc it was obvious sansan wasn't gonna be a show thing so might as well have a 50/50 split even though I guess having the show wouldn't have been that great in retrospective BUT ANYWAY) yeah what you said about the whole arc and again like... sansa/jaime is top five most hated ships for me too bc it's doubly ignoring that sansa and jaime have LI that aren't standard attractive so I'm not even touching that but yeah like

sorry but when it comes to problematic ships again there is literally nothing in asoiaf that's not somehow problematic - again the most wholesome thing in there is sam/gilly and I reiterate gilly has a baby because her father raped her and her own mother was the same so................. like no one has any leg to stand on when it comes to MY SHIP IS WHOLESOME bc no ship in here is 100% wholesome or has characters who are themselves 100% wholesome so the fixation about how these two ships are specifically bad is suspicious like really really sus

also I'd like again to point out for the umpteenth time that while there are things that I really don't vibe with (and in this fandom esp I can't do incest ships) I don't go around judging ppl for being into unhealthy dynamics or being like EW IT'S INCEST BAD because honestly I have better to do with my life, but my problem is people going like AH MY SHIP IS MORALLY BETTER THAN YOURS when it's a badwrong/ish dynamic and trying to sanitize it - like own up to it no one is gonna judge in this damned fandom and if they do good luck being coherent and don't go at other people like 'ah yeah mine is better than yours because it's so much more wholesome' X°D

also like... again there's limits and limits - I can absolutely get why someone would not like sansan or sanrion because they do have problematic elements like if someone reads blackwater and feels uncomfortable ofc I'm not gonna tell them WELL YOU HAVE TO ACCEPT IT, if they blacklist sansan and they don't come at me telling me I'm a pervert then all good? but like to do the comparison I can't get over how in the show sansa told theon she'd do to him what ramsay did all over again after he didn't help her when she didn't even tell him WELL WE SHOULD RUN AWAY TOGETHER just help me run away because for me that is like... I can't ship it when the show narrative never asked sansa to be accountable, I won't ever go to a the*nsa shipper telling them EW HOW CAN YOU LIKE IT WHEN THAT IS A THING because... the way I can like sansan with its problematic elements or secondarily like sanrion with its problematic elements (nvm that the superior tyrion ship is tyrion/bronn anyway) they can like th*onsa with its problematic elements? but just don't go around harping at ppl because everyone has their limit to something and it can be glaringly obvious or not (I mean if I tell you that th*ramsay isnt my cup of tea anyone could understand why seeing the background, or idk for me brienne/hyle hunt is a way bigger nope than brienne/tormund ever could have been but a lot of ppl in jb fandom feel the contrary which is absolutely fine again I can't stand the idea of b. with someone who bet on taking her virginity because of personal reasons even if he realized he was wrong but for others the way they wrote brienne/tormund in the show was uncomfortable to that degree and so on) and as long as you behave like an adult... then who cares what you ship

meanwhile instead there's the... fixation on those two esp within the context you mentioned and honestly I'm kinda tired of the 'gross old dudes' rhetoric thrown at them when neither of them is old or gross and they both are abuse victims with trauma never mind the ableism in spades (that one more glaringly at tyrion for obvious reasons and on tumblr I wish it wasn't like......... 80% of the general fandom but people dismissing sandor's shitty coping methods as HE'S A VIOLENT DRUNK when like..... he's the only one who's actually not violent with her sansa and he has thirty years' worth of ptsd on him are also a peach) like... can you please realize the implications of what you're saying please and thank you

[im-gettingby]

30 Days of Carry On

posted (and written by?) @captain-aralias

(I’m doing most of these at once because I said so. it’s long so under the cut)

1. Favourite major character

I literally thought — Simon no Baz no Penny no, Agatha!

I guess I will pick Simon, since I relate to him the most — or at least, my connection to him led me into the fandom.

2. Favourite minor character

I think we all know this one 🐑🐑🐑

I have written many a treatise on Lamb Rights. I’ll spare everyone now

3. Character you relate to the most

Oops— I already answered this, kinda. I relate to them in different ways: I relate a lot to WS Simon because he has abandonment issues and “kid who was told he was extraordinary and then grew up to be ordinary” issues. We also both have a “fix all the things for everyone” complex, too.

Baz — It took me a while to get into Baz’s head, but I would say, I relate to him because of his intense emotional world and tendency to see the world through an intensely romantic/tragic lens. But also he’s a Pisces. and I’d never do that like a Pisces does. (Sorry, not sorry.)

4. Which character would you like to go to lunch with?

SHEPARD obviously. I don’t feel the need to elaborate.

5. Favourite non-Snowbaz ship

Ooh! Probably Lamb/Baz or Simon/Shep or just...literally anything. Like, I will read anything as long as it’s well written. The weirder the better. (Within...legal and moral limits.) in my other fandoms I’ve been a big multishipper and there’s not a lot of options for that in CO - which is fine - but wholeheartedly support rarepairs :D

6. Favourite non-romantic OTP

So, obviously Simon/Penny and Baz/Penny are great ones, but I think the nearest & dearest to my heart is Simon/Agatha. The kind of siblings/unwillingly dating/weird exes dynamic and the way they both shaped each other’s lives is just so interesting. And while Simon & Penny are closer, Agatha and Simon represent their aspirational selves to one another. And the way that they were both tied to one another along with their gender roles/places in society and both broke away at the same time is just...mwah

7. Favourite Baz outfit

I honestly dress kinda like Baz. Anything involving a printed silk shirt or a floral brocade suit, so like, all of them? I love WS Baz, his fashion sense is so thoughtful yet fun. He’s so expressive with it — in the sense of both being guarded, being sexy, and playing with masculinity/femininity.

8. How do you feel about Wayward Son?

In case it wasn’t obvious, I absolutely love it. I mean, from a writing/narrative standpoint, I don’t think it’s the most elegant or engaging book ever written, but it’s just so raw and fresh. I don’t see many examples of an author trying to do what Rainbow did, which is build a complex emotional AND plot-driven story with so many characters and so much lore. I’m very excited for AWTWB.

9. Favourite scene from Carry On, besides Chapter 61

I like what the book does/sets up overall. Honestly probably the first scene, where Simon walks to the bus stop & takes the train and just thinks about his life and makes lists -- I love Simon. I know Rainbow said she thinks that bit is boring, but it honestly says so much about his character in a short time. (and he’s an extremely complex character!) Also, Baz’s dramatic entrance. Also, the chapter where Baz says “and I’m hopelessly in love with him” because it’s just so dramatic, and it comes out of nowhere

10. Favourite scene from Wayward Son, besides Chapter 41

Baz and Lamb’s journey across the Strip - vampire lore, jealous Simon, Baz getting to be his own character— it’s beautiful.

11. Remind us about something in canon readers might have forgotten about

Ahahaha um. Simon says he thinks Baz’s cousin Marcus is fit. That’s pretty funny.

12. What are your hopes and fears for Any Way the Wind Blows?

I don’t have any hopes because I don’t want to be disappointed - and that’s not a cynical thing, I just want to go into it with an open mind. (I’ll take a break from fandom and reread the books beforehand so I’m (more of) a blank slate) I guess just...interesting emotional journeys, whatever that ends up being. There’s a lot that Rainbow has to do in the book and I don’t think any one person could get through all of it -- that’s why we have fanfiction.

Fears? I don’t know. I think just...the series ending. Even though I’ve been in fandom for less than a year I just really love this fandom & the thought of that kind of eroding away is sad. But also I don’t think that will happen immediately, and change is a part of life. I’ve never related as much to Cath as I do now :’)

13. An unpopular/cracky opinion you hold

unpopular: Lamb is the best character; I don’t want Simon to get his magic back; both Simon and Baz should have other romantic options.

14. Something from your head fanon

Hmmmmmmm well. Just mean things about Baz really. Like that he’s weird looking, not that great at football, and actually has kind of garish fashion sense. (which is a self-roast as well - see above.) I just feel like Simon/fandom put him on a pedestal, and Simon’s an unreliable narrator re: Baz anyway. So I like the idea that Baz is this average looking kinda strange nerdy guy who is everything Simon has ever wanted in life.

And before you tell me that Baz was hot at Watford and Agatha was into him, have you ever been to a tiny boarding school? Standards get weird 😂😂😂 and Terry being into him — come on. The guy’s a violent pervert.

also - back to Watford being a tiny school. Baz doesn’t have much competition to be the star of the football team. (also, does anyone except Simon even think that he is?)

16. Favourite location other than Watford

Vegas!

17, Favourite location in Watford

I’m pretty bad at Watford lore/geography bc again, I’m way more into WS. Probably the floor in the Cloisters where everything happens the same way, just a day later. There’s a fic there, but I can’t wrap my head around all the time travel implications enough to write it.

18. What would be your favourite subject at Watford?

Any potions-esque subject because I loved chemistry lab. Latin because I loved Latin in school. Uhhhh I don’t like history class, so not that — maybe a literature course focused on the derivation of spells.

19. What would your magical implement be?

Ooh! This is a good one. I’d like to think it would be a weird body piercing. Or a belt a la Gareth. Maybe some kind of traditional south Asian jewelry, like a nose chain or mang-tikka or something. maybe a hat. like, imagine your magical instrument being a fedora and you just have to...wear a fedora all the time.

21. Favourite canon spell

Hm. Kiss it better? Candle in the wind?I should try to think of a non-horny one. honestly they’re all so cool and clever - I love the magic system in CO/WS.

22. What would your eighth year spell at Watford be or do?

Maybe something from a poem I love. That would probably be pretty but not very functional. Or a healing spell.

23. Who would you want as your roommate?

Agatha is uptight, Penny is passive aggressive, Simon is a slob, Baz is both uptight and passive aggressive.

Definitely Shepard.

24. Favourite item of merchandise, official or unofficial

My @subparselkie sticker

25. Favourite book cover design

WS. Oh, another unpopular opinion - I don’t like the kevin wada cover of carry on. their faces look so weird and the colors don’t work for me. I own the version with the blue and yellow cover art instead

26. Do you want a movie? If yes - any fan casts for the movie?

Probably wouldn’t want a movie! Because I am way too possessive of these books/this version of the story. And I am historically extremely disappointed by adaptations — I get upset with the smallest of changes 😂

27. If they made a movie, what scenes do you think they’d cut that you’d be furious were missing?

See above. A LOT haha

28. If you could ask Rainbow Rowell one question, what would it be? (If you have already, you can share if you like)

What is Lamb’s full name????? Is it actually Lamb Lambert Lamborghini the third???

What is Rainbow’s relationship with sheep and goats. Why are there so many references to them

29. Have you read any of Rainbow’s other books?

Only Fangirl

30. How did you get into Carry On and/or Carry On fandom?

I read fangirl & the pages at the end mentioned carry on, so I read that, and enjoyed it but I wasn’t obsessed. Then I read WS spring 2020, reread it a bunch of times, reread CO, freaked out about the cliffhanger/cool vampire stuff/unresolved sexual tension, had pandemic cabin fever, got on AO3, and the rest is history.

As @annabellelux knows, I wrote my first (published) fanfic after reading her amazing fic Drop The Game. and the first fanfic I read was @captain-aralias’ Greener Grass. I was so obsessed that about a month later, I searched through the AO3 tags for it, because I couldn’t remember the title or author but kept thinking about it.

[jyvurentropyblog]

How To Choose a POV?

One of my writer friends asked me to write something about POV. She didn’t have a specific question, but basically asked if I might cover the different types of POVs and which ones work better in certain circumstances. 

Well, like I told her, this is going to be a VERY biased post. I am incredibly partial to third limited. I choose third limited almost every story I write. 

Let me start by explaining the different POVs. 

First Person: Uses the pronoun I 

“I went to the store.”

Second Person: Uses the pronoun You

“First you need to go to the store, get some eggs and vanilla extract.”

Second person is rare in fiction. It is most often used in non-fiction books that include instructions, or recipes, or other how-to guides. 

Every once in awhile, a writer will be really artsy-fartsy and use second person in fiction. 

Second person in fiction would look like this:

“You go to the store. You see a long line of people. You sigh and shuffle down the aisle.”

One notable example of second person in non-artsy-fartsy fiction would be the choose your own adventure books. 

Third Person: Uses third-person pronouns such as “She/He/They/Ze/etc

“Ze went to the store.”

But within third-person you have two options:

Third Limited or Third Omniscient

With third limited, readers are privy to the thoughts and feelings of only one character per chapter or scene. A story can still have multiple POVs, but within a scene or chapter, the POV remains only with one character. 

In my novel ‘Desire and Destruction’, I alternate POVs every other chapter. So it goes one chapter in Cole’s POV and one chapter in Ingrid’s POV. When we’re in a Cole chapter, we can see what Ingrid does, but not what she thinks or feels. We can not see into her head. And the reverse is true when we’re in an Ingrid chapter. 

With third omniscient, there is a god-like narrator who is looking into the minds of ALL the characters. This narrator is often somewhat detached and may look down on certain characters and praise other characters. Basically, it isn’t that deep-third that we get with third-limited. The narrator often has their own personality and way of viewing the characters. Within any scene, the narrator can relate the thoughts, feelings, or backstory of any character. 

I do not recommend third omniscient. As I covered in my last post, very few people have the skill to know when to use it AND how to pull it off effectively. Most stories are not enhanced by third omniscient. I’m not saying you should never use it, but don’t jump in and give it a whirl just because a lot of the old classics use this style. 

Remember the time period that was hard AF for third-limited also experimented with narrative style to the point that Frankenstein is told via letters by someone who has nothing to do with the story and just happened to meet Dr. Frankenstein out in the wilderness. It’s a summary of a summary. Wuthering Heights is told exclusively in conversations between the housekeeper and a tenant, neither of whom are main characters. Look.....the classics of the Romantic and Victorian era were....on some real other shit. Writing like the classics isn’t always a solid plan. 

So that’s my extreme cautioning against third omniscient. I just don’t think it adds anything to most stories and is far too likely to jar or confuse readers and come across as head-hopping. 

But third-limited on the other hand....

I ADORE third-limited. Let me explain why I like it. 

You get all the perks of first person AND all the perks of third-person. You can be somewhat detached, but you still get a front row seat to the thoughts and feelings of one character at a time. When you really pull off a nice deep-third, you’re fully immersed in the character’s inner world, but there’s still a bit of a buffer. You still aren’t writing AS the character. 

Here is a section of my book ‘Combustion’ in third-limited where I was going for deep-third. 

~The flame birthed itself at the end of the match. It danced, red and orange, against the backdrop of the still night. Rachel opened her mouth as wide as she could, until the corners of her lips were stretched as far as they would go. She made sure that her mouth was a wide, round circle. Just like the man on fire. Probably just like Mary Reeser had done. She was going to spontaneously combust. She would do it now.

And she could stop waiting for it to happen. She was never going to have to be afraid of it happening again. It was all about to be over. Rachel watched the flame slide down lower, burning away at the wood of the match. It was going to reach her hand soon, so she had to do this fast. Spontaneous Human Combustion started inside the body.

Rachel understood why the man on fire had his mouth wide open.

There wasn't any time left.

Rachel took the match and placed it into her open mouth.~

It’s in third-person, but it’s still written in a way where we can feel her fear, her confusion, her dissociation. We can see her reasoning. Of course, her reasoning is flawed. She should not be trying to make herself spontaneously combust JUST so that she can stop being afraid of it happening. 

So how do you know if you should choose third-limited or first? (because third omniscient and second person should rarely be used). Well, I’m biased, and I believe third-limited works well for most stories. 

That being said, I have chosen first person for two of my stories. One is my now shelved manuscript ‘Femcel’ which I will eventually be rewriting and it will be retitled ‘Pick Me.’ The other is my collab story with Emily Hurricane ‘When The Darkness Takes Us.’

For ‘When The Darkness Takes Us’ I had a very specific reason for choosing first person. This character is a self-insert. It’s a fictionalized account of something very difficult I went through semi-recently. 

So I suppose I’d say, when it’s a really emotional story with strong voice, first person may be a better choice. When it’s a very personal story, first person may be a better choice. When you’re writing a character who rants and raves and switches gears mid-thought-stream so quickly that a third-person narrator wouldn’t do it justice-it would only slow the stream-of-consiousness down. 

I also chose first person for my book ‘Femcel’ which is not currently online, because I need to make some changes to it. 

Here is an excerpt from ‘Femcel.’ 

~If every single day was a day off from work with Sailor Moon dvds and an entire pickle pizza all to myself, well, then I think life would be a-okay. Today has been great. I cleaned my room and then I pulled out my trusty Sailor Moon box set. Auntie and Mom-mom are both at work, so nobody to bug me about what I'm eating. I ordered a large pizza and I got the owner on the phone when the new guy didn't understand that they can put pickles on a pizza. It isn't on the menu, but they do it for me all the time.

I told him, "You charge me for a pepperoni pizza and tell the guy cooking it to put on pickles. Ask Jim. He always does it." But the guy still thought I was full of it.

Eventually they sorted it out though. And yeah, I know it's bad to eat an entire large pizza myself. Don't go thinking I'm a total pig. I only eat like this when I watch anime.

Usually I don't eat enough. Mom-mom says I'm too thin and she isn't wrong. If I lay on my stomach too long at night, my ribs start to hurt. I'm the only woman in my family with a stick body. Everybody else has nice curves. I barely have boobs and my butt is flat. I tried doing squats for awhile, but when nothing much happened, I figured it was probably all nonsense. You know? A placebo.

It's only four in the afternoon, but already it's getting dark. I hate winter. Especially once Christmas is over. I feel so upset and anxious every day in that long dead span of winter, January through March, when there's nothing to look forward to and it feels like the world just dead ass stopped. Sludge in every parking lot. Everything is cold and wet. Kek. And it's the middle of January. Top kek. (I mean that sarcastically. Obviously).~

I chose first for Ana’s story, because I imagined her as this very voicey character with this sweet and sarcastic personality. She’s also incredibly immature (which does make sense since she’s in her very early 20s) and I felt that youth and naiveté would across more strongly in first person. 

So....what’s the hard and fast rule for deciding between third-limited and first?

I....uh.... 

 I wish I could tell you lol

Like my last post about balancing dialogue with other storytelling elements, I have to say, I just play it by ear. 

I will say, I think every writer should figure out early on which POV they prefer to write in. Try them all out. Try writing the same scenes in first and third and see which one you like better. 

I did this while I was getting my B.A in Creative Writing and after several rounds of playing with third-limited and first, I discovered I’m incredibly partial to third-limited. 

That doesn’t mean there isn’t any room for first. Like I said, I realized first was the better choice for two of my WIPs. But knowing that third-limited is my default style, I always have a starting point. I start most stories in third-limited and it’s only when third-limited starts to feel....well...limiting that I give first a whirl. 

In the end, it’s about what YOU as the writer are most comfortable with. Some people say it depends on the story you want to tell, and I agree to an extent, but at the same time, if you hate writing in first person and you try to force it, the story may suffer for it. For years, I wrote exclusively in third-limited before I was comfortable enough to test out first person. 

Third-limited and first both accomplish different things. First person has more voice and immediacy, while third-person allows a writer to be more poetic and detached. 

Which POV do you like best? When you experiment with both POVs, which allows your story to come to life more?

There’s no real rule of thumb. 

Like everything with writing, it’s all a matter of intuition; following your gut and looking at every story as a unique experience. 

I know that was wishy-washy, but it’s the best I can do while still being honest!

There just aren’t any true absolutes with writing. 

Good luck fellow writers <3

[retphienix]

I Have A Lot To Say So I'll Read More This.

The short of it?

I'm glad I played Joker- I played it because I wanted to know how DQM evolved when it reached the DS and I got my answer.

It's mediocre. Not bad exactly, I enjoyed playing it, it adds some REALLY appreciated features to the DQM series and if you were playing it at release it had online play which plays well with the post game content which I haven't touched by the time I wrote this:

-but there are some engine/console specific things that made it a drag and there are some parts of the game that are just weaker than the previous games which is amusing since the previous games were simple GBC titles.

And finally, I don't really recommend playing through Joker 1. Can't speak on the sequels, but Joker 1 was a pretty middling experience for me so I'm the wrong person to get a positive recommendation from.

And since the opportunity presents itself: If you like monster RPGs and haven't tried it- go emulate Dragon Warrior Monsters 2 for the GBC, it's really good and also if you emulate you can fast forward the GBC era grind if that's your taste- really a win all around.

On to my rambling:

I debated on writing, rewriting, rewriting, and better presenting my thoughts on this game and the series as a whole but nah, Joker ain't getting that, I'm ramblin'- lol

I will split it slightly between "The ending" and "The game as a whole" though.

Ending:

1:07 - This is slightly a 'game a a whole' thing but honestly it's funny to me that you unlock a permanent repel in this game by doing the main quest. I entered this dungeon feeling strong enough to beat the game, so I just avoided 90% of encounters entirely.

5:00 - I genuinely got a laugh out of Sparkpug's whole deal in this finale. Not story wise, that's fine, no complaints- I mean that Sparkpug is clearly built to be a monster that can carry an ineffective team. He's clearly meant to be bred a few times and a god tier member of a potentially inexperienced player's team- but I literally never used him after the intro.

So during this scene it's supposed to be like "I'm a demi-god monster, you can't possibly beat me" and I'm thinking "Dude, you're like level 10 and shit tier, you can't win, this is hilarious."

Obviously it's a real boss fight and not 'face the monster you once had' but I was having fun roasting him behind the scenes of this recording.

45:00 - What an entirely unexpected change of pace.

Like, I had it spoiled for me by a screenshot that Dr. Snap becomes a monster or something- but I thought maybe he was always a monster or something, and also I got a bad look at him.

HE TURNS INTO A BODY HORROR BEAST, THAT'S NUTS.

Genuinely a highlight of the game.

52:00 - I fucking laughed what a meaningless exchange where the payoff is saying "He was stupid!", it's honestly just silly and dumb but not necessarily bad just dumb lol

55:00 - Not a great 'you won' victory lap. Like at all. Kinda feels like they should have just made this all a cutscene where I appear back at town and see that Solitaire is the leader now etc etc.

I kinda don't understand why it's a victory lap at all? Because all anyone says is "They picked a weird successor to Snap >:(" or "Snap went to the island? I bet he was stopping the calamity :)"

If you have 2 lines of dialogue prepared, maybe don't make a victory lap???

1:00:00 - What a fucking stupid payoff lol

Like sincerely, Solitaire does NOTHING the entire game! She's meaningless from start to finish! And the 'surprise' is that she's the new commish??? And she got the position because she's a rich spoiled brat??? Like LITERALLY that's why????????

What a stupid fucking ending lol

Now her proposed evolution of the contest is fair enough, I mean it's childish as hell, but to be fair- more contests is a fine idea especially since prior games and this game demonstrated the public's interest in watching monster fights. And the goal being to fight her as the final fight is fucking egotistical and stupid- BUT- it does play into the fact that the player didn't get to fight her the whole game so it's whatever?

1:03:00 - This is both the best and worst lol.

This game has no story, like at all, it's fucking empty front to back, and only explodes with like- 1 event at the very end.

This moment is a montage of memorable moments with your 'best friend' Sparkpug. It's cinematically very nice to be honest! Even includes a moment I don't remember at the arena which probably didn't happen lol.

So visually it's cool- I dig seeing the camera zoom out as we run across the beach, and the flashback moments intersplice over us making our way to the scout memorial- that's very well done.

The content is empty lol

As I said there's no story, these moments are nothing lol

And that's that.

All said the ending was a very nice challenge to face with my team- I had to abuse items like mad but I MADE IT! It was a GOOD fight.

The rest I've already said.

On to the game as a whole:

I have issues with this game, but there's good too. It's really like 4 steps forward 6-7 steps back it's weird, it's really weird.

Positives are neat!

> First and foremost- TRAITS!

Monsters in Dragon Quest Monsters have always had a problem with keeping their identity for long. The way I'd explain it to an outsider to the series is that Monsters DO have special stat variance and intended movesets and all that jazz- but the breeding system completely and entirely destroys that relatively early into the game.

While a monster might normally have really high defense and low other stats while knowing buffing magic- breeding, EVEN UNINTENTIONALLY, will have that same monster come out with 9 billion attack and all ice magic.

Monsters in DQM have a habit of becoming canvases for the breeding effects rather than their own mons- and this is undeniably a downside. It makes the game feel unique, it doesn't 'hurt' it, but when by mid-game monsters are more easily identified as sprites rather than strengths and weaknesses or even types (family) it's a slight downer on the series.

Traits fix this a lot by making every specific monster have unchangeable traits which offer things like "immunity to x type of damage" or "higher crit chance"- it's small, but it gives each monster more identity.

> Second and secondmost- SKILLS!

The older games didn't use trees, it used each individual spell as a potential pass on during breeding.

Each monster could have 8 spells, and when you breed two monsters you pass on all 16 spells to the offspring (they don't learn them all at once, they learn them as they level up) as well as the natural spells the monster would learn by level up.

So in the older games it is really easy to end up with a refined and overpowered list of 8 spells on each of your monsters.

Now spells are tied to Skill trees and your monsters can have 3 skill trees total (which are passed on as OPTIONS when breeding).

All to say skills do a lot for removing the "Master of all, weakness of none" spell lists that the older games made trivial to make, now you have to limit your builds and be more specialized- also they added skills like "Attack up" to add more variance to a build- instead of having spells you might just have high stat buffs as skill trees.

Overall I think Skills are an improvement because coupled with Traits it makes each monster feel much more specialized and unique and less like a sprite with no identity.

> Breeding is improved.

This is very much because of skills and traits- again- but also the system is just improved in general. Instead of being told "That's a monster you haven't had before!" and judging your decisions based on the name of the offspring breed, now you get to see a small sprite of the resulting monster to help you decide- ALSO instead of getting 1 result for every combo (to the point where you have to back out and choose Monster A + Monster B and Monster B + Monster A as separate options), you now get up to 3 results to pick between for every breeding opportunity.

It's just better.

> The engine is impressive.

At least to me. This is a DS title using (from what I read) a rework of the DQ8 PS2 game's engine- it certainly looks like it.

Combat models are nice, using moves looks nice, overworld exploration looks nice- it looks nice.

Now for some negative and general nonsense- all of which is more often than not 'weird'.

> I gotta be unfair and say "The Story" first and foremost.

DQM 1 and 2 are not intense story games. They aren't.

But they both knew how to handle their story well for what they wanted to tell, I can and will praise both for their narratives because they know what they are and do it well.

DQM:J does not. It's fucking bad.

Basically: The overall story doesn't exist- you're told to be a spy, but that comes up 1 time towards the end of the game and LITERALLY doesn't matter at any other moment INCLUDING the one time it comes up.

You have NO meaningful objective from the start up until near the end of the game. You show up and have no goal- so you get told to get some crystals with no meaning behind it (not even a lie because they are clearly evil- not even a lie to motivate you! NO MEANING IS PRESENTED! JUST DO IT! TO DO THE CONTEST I GUESS! WHY? SHUT UP!)

So 90% of the game time you're not doing anything meaningful. So what about the islands? Any small narratives to keep things moving?

NO!

NOT AT ALL!

So you go 90% of the game having no real objective, just kinda wandering forward mindlessly- and then the game suddenly goes "Oh! Guy who seemed sus! He's evil! He's gonna unleash the calamity that you were 'kinda but not directly' working towards with your dog! You know, that plot point that's kept vague and paid 0% attention to the entire game? Yeah it's happening! Aaaaand you're done! GG!"

Basically there's just nothing going on in this game, it's all background noise until the last 10% of the game. And that's lame.

DQM1 had a light story- but from the very intro cutscene you have a clear objective which makes every action you do seem relevant as you are working towards that goal.

From the start of the game you know "My sister is gone! The king says a magic wish can get her back! I'll go do that!" and then you do!

DQM2 has a much better story!

You have a goal from the start (The kingdom is physically dying and you have to save it by getting a new plug!) AND it has stories for each world you visit!

THAT'S MILES BETTER! THIS GAME COULD HAVE DONE THAT FOR THE ISLANDS!

Anywho. Story is lacking and empty and lame especially when DQM2 has a similar format but does every part better- you have a clear objective you're working towards AND side stories to keep the light narrative moving!

WTH!

The spy plotline doesn't matter! It could have been used to build suspicion on who's the good guy!

The islands are so empty of story!

DQM2 has a fun mix on how a rival character works which makes every world interesting to see how they get involved!

This game has a rival that does NOTHING!!!!!!!!!

It's just such a step back from the previous games, it's weird to see DQM 1 land a solid simple story and DQM 2 build a great format to expand the story going forward- and then DQM:J just slams its head into the dirt and wipes out.

> Game's slow.

The engine switch is a good thing overall, but it makes combat slower (a lot), adds loading screens to combat (primarily), and they didn't bother speeding up the grind from previous games.

Because of the grind still existing which isn't a problem in and of itself- the game becomes SLOW AS HELL because the engine makes that grind take longer.

Also world exploration is slow which is to be expected when moving from 2d to 3d, but this is countered by adding things to the world to find or do- and Joker tries but it's still noticeable. The world exploration isn't a problem, it just stands out alongside the combat being slow as hell.

The engine change was a great thing- but it feels like they should have put more work into speeding up combat to counter the slowdown of load times and flashy animations.

A GOOD WAY TO FIX THAT MIGHT BE XP!

> Music ain't great in my opinion.

DQ has amazing music. This game has some weak renditions in my opinion. The CELL HQ theme song is a pretty good poster child for the worst there is, but just in general even the better music is lacking compared to the chiptunes of the GBC or the better mixes of the main series.

Maybe it's unfair, it's a DS game, I don't know, I just know I ended up just muting most of the game because it didn't sound great. I played the GBC games OSTs instead for a large portion of my playthrough. I listened to videos instead for the bulk of the game.

It's just not pleasant to me, sorry to say.

> XP!!!!!!!

I'm being a spoiled ass on this but yeah!

XP SUCKS IN THIS!

There aren't good placed to grind until you beat the game! (apparently)

The first level blatantly has too low xp which makes you grind before you can tackle the boss of the island- and the late game has you mindlessly grinding low xp rewards in order to be ready to face the final boss.

It's WEIRD!

Why is it so low!

> Tech is weird!

I could ramble on this alone but here's the short version:

DQ has a unique fantasy world aesthetic that each game has explored in its own way. It's basically "swords, magic, monsters, and charm- things feel light but aren't afraid to get scary sometimes :)"

This game... doesn't.

This game has fuckin' tech watches, jet skis, TOWER PCS????

This ISN'T dragon quest on a world building level.

It's like, contemporary modern world but with slimes.

And that could be good I guess, but it feels so fucking weird to see PCs right alongside swords and axes and a dracky.

Like... why?

It's a poor aesthetic according to my tastes. Maybe I'm an ass for that. The tech is weird.

All to say, in a poor rambling "I gotta get this out of me" kinda way, is Joker was fine.

I enjoyed breeding. I enjoyed seeing the engine. I enjoyed the unique additions like a 'hero monster'.

But I also had to grind mindlessly on a slower game.

I had to endure a story that forgot to show up until the very end.

I sat there thinking about replaying the older ones the whole time.

It was fine.

It's mediocre.

I'm glad I played it.

I'm done now :)

[streets-in-paradise]

I want to talk about some of the main family relationships in Troy

As I already told once in one of my posts, I adore to overanalyze family relationships in the media I consume. I’m still in the process of writing another one as a second part to my sibling relationships post talking of more family relationships from various of my fandoms but, since that one is taking me too much time to finish, I'm writing now this shorter one for my Troy appreciation series. 

I already started this ramble in the same post I referenced. There I talked about my favourite family bond in the entire film, the sibling relationship of Hector and Paris. Still, there is a lot to discuss about family dynamics in the story this movie tells. Even since I was writing that post I kept thinking on how many family related story arcs this movie has and how, if you pay close attention to those, you can capture the essence of the characters. Because of this, I decided to dedicate a separate post to the main family relationships portrayed there and the important role they play in the development of the story. I will try to skip the ones i already talked about before. This are, for most part, the relationships inside the trojan royal family. Since i already discussed those, most of this will be about family bonds of the greek characters. 

As i stated in previous posts, this is a talk about the characters and actions in the movie. I’m not talking from an adaptation” movie vs book” point of view. I can occasionally mention some of the differences but there would be more references than comparisons. 

As always, i apologise for any possible mistakes in my writing. I’m still in the process of getting used to writing long texts in english. Also, I give proper credits for the images to the original sites hosting them. 

Agamemnon and Menelaus 

The movie establishes them clearly as the main antagonists. Precisely, one of the many scenes I love in this movie is the one in which they show up to the gates of Troy commanding the greek army and they argue with the trojan princes over the terms of the combat between Paris and Menelaus. The first thing I always notice in that one is how alike Hector and Paris look when they get down from their horses, it reminds me of the actual part of the Iliad in which it is said that Paris gets confused for a brave man because of his looks. Going back to my point, in that scene I get the vibe of opponents these characters have just by the display of the dynamics between siblings. 

Agamemnon is using his brother’s problem as an excuse for a war highly profitable for him. Menelaus is aware of this and he doesn’t care because he is too consumed by his wish for revenge and, it seems that this mutualistic beneficial goal is what sticks them together. Their first scene together, when Menelaus goes to Mycenae asking his brother for help, summarizes their relationship in a great way. Menelaus seems to have a rather servile attitude towards his brother and Agamemnon clearly takes advantage of that, having in that particular time a perfect excuse to attack an enemy he had wished to conquer for a long time. If you think about it, this is the exact opposite relationship of Hector and Paris. I love how well this scene fits as a contrast to the argument in the ship scene of Hector and Paris . In both, Menelaus and Paris are basically asking for the help of their older bros, one doing it on purpose and the other one half aware. Their family relationships are established so well by those two scenes. 

Going back to the one scene I mentioned first, the exchanges between characters are awesome. Not only because you can appreciate directly how this differences play a role in the conflict, but also because you can totally appreciate how every character involved is the exact opposite of the one who challenges. The exchange between Hector and Agamemnon is fantastic. I love how Hector cuts the crap on Agamemnon’s cocky bullshit, their short interaction is priceless.Also, i almost feel bad for Paris because “ the sun was shining when your wife left you” is his best line in the entire movie and he gets his ass kicked by Menelaus immediately afterwards. I like how, despite being a coward, Paris is a sassy little shit. 

Something i need to add about these brothers is that the Director’s Cut adds a better perspective on Agamemnon’s care for Menelaus. There are many short hints, especially after Menelaus’s death, that show how he actually cared for him. I think that this small glimpse should have stayed in the final version. Even when Agamemnon is a piece of shit of the worst kind and his brother was not very different, it is nice to see him caring for something else than his own imperialist desires from time to time and to get a real family vibe from those two.

Achilles and Patroclus 

Before starting with this two i want to clarify that i am fully aware of the very different interpretation their relationship got in this movie. I heard that the romantic approach was explored in Troy: fall of a city. I haven’t watched it yet, it is on my to watch list and at some point i will do it. Now, speaking of what we have seen in the context of the movie, i have to say that i love the adorable family bond they have since the first scene they share. This is by far my second favourite family bond in the film. 

As i said before i have a weakness for family relationships and tragedies regarding them are the biggest pain i can imagine. I don’t have anything against romantic Achilles x Patroclus, i just enjoy a lot the family approach it took here. First, i think it happens because i saw the movie far before reading any piece of trojan war related fiction and second because I happen to enjoy seeing family bonds more than romantical ones. My basic example for explaining this is the complaint I had over Kili x Tauriel and how it kinda shifted the focus of the previously established family story of the Line of Durin. If i have to choose between  a family or a romance story of any kind, I will always end up more interested in the first option because i relate to and enjoy those better. 

In this version, they are cousins with a very brother like relationship. I feel like here Patroclus acts like a little bro that hero worships Achilles. We know that his parents died and Achilles took care of him but we don’t know when that happened. What we do know is that his protection is the only aspect Achilles feels responsible for in his life. His bond with him reflects the best and the worst of him. It displays his softer and his most terrible side. Without paying close attention it looks like the romantic subplot with Briseis is the part of the plot that is supposed to show his soft side and, partially, it does but i think that job is already done earlier with the introduction of Patroclus. The story with Briseis serves mainly as support of what was already established there. The kindest, more human side of Achilles is clearly there when you look at his interactions with Patroclus. 

One of the main reasons why i enjoy this relationship so much is because, plotwise, it serves as a perfect point of encounter for the two main heros’ characterizations. Despite all the effort the storytelling makes in pointing out the many differences between Hector and Achilles, these two apparently opposite men share the same limitation. Hector’s goal is to protect his country, Achilles’s goal is immortality through fame, but both find themselves lost when their reckless younger relatives endanger themselves and both react the same way. When Paris was at instants of dying by the hands of Menelaus Hector had to choose between saving him or letting him get killed for the good of Troy. The man who serves as paradigm of honesty and sacrifice, the most noble hero of the story, broke the agreement and killed Menelaus. He broke a pact and gave his enemies an even better excuse for war that will doom Troy because his brother’s life was at risk. Achilles’s madness over grief for Patroclus fits so well family related in this particular narrative because it originated in the same feelings. Paris and Patroclus may be opposites, one being a coward and the other the embodiment of reckless courage, but both become the limit of tolerance for Hector and Achilles. At the end, both heros are driven by love for their families. In this version where Hector and Paris have this strong bond that works perfectly as a mirror for Achilles and Patroclus, it fits so well for them to be family. The chain of deaths unleashed with Patroclus’s death becomes a natural response to the bonds previously mentioned between the four characters involved. Everything becomes a big family tragedy and that is devastating. 

One more comment i will make about them is that i also love how some of Achilles’s friends add some more sweet or happy hints to some scenes. Eudorus, despite the formal servant-like way in which he speaks to Achilles, gives me a long time friend who is almost family vibe. Of course, i have to mention Odysseus here as well. Patroclus and Achilles sparring scene has an amazing chill domestic fun tone and he adds even more fun to the moment once he arrives. They are the most likeable greeks of the movie and you get such a friendly feeling of them. I live for these guys. The main scene they shared is the happiest of the film. 

Bonus mentions 

The Director’s Cut has a lot of scenes that help you understand some of the characters' motivations and lots of them are family related. One small scene I wish really hard the should had kept is the one in which Priam explains the reasons for his deep religious devotion. He listens to the high priest’s terrible advice and ignores his son’s wiser words not because he is a nice but dumb and inept king. He believes Apollo saved Hector from a disease when he was a baby boy. There is a reason for his blind, sometimes naive, faith in Apollo’s protection.Other cut out moment with a similar meaning is the one in which Andromache tells Hector she lost seven brothers in a previous war. She is tired of losing people, her husband is all she has. Having this in consideration her story turns even more tragic. 

I could mention a few more characters and moments but this is getting too long so i will end it here. I think it is enough for the topic i wanted to write about and the only main character i feel i skipped a bit here is Priam but i had talked enough about the trojans and how much i love them so i think it is enough. 

I enjoyed writing this, as fast as i can i will upload the general post for family relationships i’m working on and i’m thinking of making a special one like this for lotr.  @hrisity12​  I tag you as i always do in all my Troy content. 

Thanks for reading this ramble i intended to keep short but, as always, ended up longer than i expected. 

[justgottafinishthischapter]

Deciding on a POV

There are many ways to tell a story, and each one comes with a benefit or a downside. Still, I figured it’s worth going over the different ways each can be effective.

First Person

Reliable Narrator: A story with a reliable First Person narrator is one of the most common narrative styles. What this means is that the reader can trust what the narrator is telling them is the truth as it actually happened. Think Percy Jackson in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series.The reliable narrator is far more common than the unreliable variety. The benefit of this narrative style is that it mirrors how we tell stories verbally. If something happened to me, and I tell my friend what happened, I am going to use First Person narration to explain the events that transpired. Thus, this can feel like the most organic option. It also allows for total access to the POV character’s thoughts, allowing readers to see how they reached a conclusion, or why they’re acting a certain way. However, this can come with the problem of not being able to get inside the head of anyone except for the narrator. Now, while it’s standard for the First Person narrator to be the main character, it isn’t always the case. If the narrator is some sort of omniscient, bystander, or divine presence, whether they interact with the characters or not, it technically falls under First Person if they voice their opinion using I statements. The figure of Death in The Book Thief is a good example of this, as Death uses I and me in the narrative of the story. Because the story is set in Germany during World War II, the narrator of Death sees the protagonist, Liesel, frequently, and thus we’re able to get a narrator who is observing a protagonist from outside of her immediate story.

Unreliable Narrator: An Unreliable narrator is going to be the exact opposite. They tell the story, but take their story with a grain of salt. Whether their perception of reality is distorted, they’re using metaphors and symbolic imagery to tell the story, or they’re telling the story from a very narrow viewpoint, the unreliable narrator can be a good choice to get the reader to engage with the story and think critically about the work. Rugrats is a good example of this type of storytelling, as the main characters are babies, and therefore often mistake things for something else, making them unreliable narrators. This type works well if you want to tell a more abstract story. For instance, an entire story is about a boy chasing after a red balloon, but that red balloon itself represents accepting his mother’s death. Suddenly everything experienced becomes unreliable, leaving the reader wondering if the foes he defeated or the desert he crossed was literal, and he went on an actual journey to come to terms with his mother’s death, or was everything figurative, and the journey was more symbolic and allegorical? An unreliable narrator can play with these questions, blur the lines between reality and fiction, and leave their readers asking questions.

Third Person

Omniscient: Lemony Snicket is a perfect example of a great omniscient narrator. Mr. Snicket knows everything about every character, knows what’s going to happen before it happens, and comments on everything. Lemony Snicket himself is not a character in the story. Rather he recounts the story much like the First Person style, but from an outside perspective. Instead of being part of the story, Lemony Snicket is telling us about the Baudelaire children through the lens of the all-knowing and opinionated narrator. It’s not entirely uncommon for this type of narrator to be some supernatural force, a wise old sage, or someone who lived through an experience recounting the tale many years later. In fact it could be rather fun to play with this last one, having the story almost be told like a myth or legend, but having the narrator constantly side track to discuss how historians know and gathered the information for this story, only to reveal the narrator isn’t some omniscient being, but just a docent in a museum giving a tour and explaining an old myth to the patrons.

Limited: With a Limited POV, the reader learns things as the narrator does. Even though the narrator is the one telling the story, their information is only up to date with whatever is currently happening on the page. This and First Person are the two POV types most likely to appear in a mystery novel, or any novel where a mystery or unanswered questions drives the plot. Harry Potter is a series written in Limited Third Person. The story follows Harry, and the reader only learns information as Harry does. And every year, Harry is faced with the recurring mystery element of figuring out what’s going on, and stopping whatever their plan was. However, because the narrator only knows what the protagonist knows, this can allow you to play around with giving the narrator a personality, and having them comment or react to things as they happen, perhaps even mirroring the way you hope the readers are responding.

Objective: Think of Objective Point of View as watching a tv show. Anyone who’s into shipping has to read into objective romantic coding. Two characters held eye contact for five seconds? You the reader have to interpret that as you will. Objective is strangely both the most human and the most robotic point of view. At its most human, Objective treats the narration like a normal person. They can’t read the thoughts of other characters, they don’t know more than the hero or reader, and you’re effectively just a bystander in the crowd watching things happen with no context clues about what’s happening inside a character’s head. On the opposite end, it can also be the most robotic because it is the most lacking in human connection, as it leaves the reader detached from the characters themselves. However, a liberating or perhaps crippling aspect of this POV style is that it frees the author of show don’t tell because this type of POV can’t enter anyone’s minds or go on a rant about a character’s feelings about someone else. You just have to take what you get at face value and all information has to be conveyed through your characters and story, whether directly through dialogue, or subtly through background details.

Switching POVs

Most stories tend to stick with a single narrator. Stories can be complicated when one person is giving an opinion, but when multiple people are talking, it can be hard to find a voice and plot for each of them. And if you’re planning on writing a series, you may run into the problem of some characters having meatier plots than others. It’s for this reason that when it comes to watching Game of Thrones, I always groan internally whenver the story cuts back to Bran or Jon at the Wall. It’s a scene or two of people standing around being cold or talking about being cold and something something three-eyed raven and then we finally get back to the part I’m more interested in: the political games of manipulation and intrigue. But that’s also a strength of changing POVs. With something like Game of Thrones, you might not necessarily like every storyline happening, but you’re more likely to enjoy one. In a sense, Game of Thrones is like 11 novels stitched together, and because each is so different, you’re more likely to find something in the series that speaks to you. Conversely, when there’s multiple POVs experiencing the same thing, such as with the Heroes of Olympus series, having shifting POVs can be a good way of exploring each character. In The Lost Hero, Piper knows more about the giant waiting to fight them than either Jason or Leo, and because we have shifting POVs, we the reader get access to this otherwise Limited Third Person information from the character who already knows it, thus building dramatic tension of when the others will find out. Another benefit to this is giving unique encounters to the characters. Percy has already met Aphrodite in the past, but through Piper, Aphrodite’s daughter, we’re able to see a different side of this goddess, the goddess as a mother to someone else. This could also manifest in differing opinions of the same things. This is also part of why it works so well in Game of Thrones. Game of Thrones is a civil war story with multiple sides all vying for the same end goal. Because there are so many sides and players in the game, having so many different points of view is valueable to the story being told. If Eddard Stark was the sole protagonist, the only thing that we would know is whatever he knows. Everything Danny is doing across the narrow sea would need to be told to Ned for it to matter. And the same with Jon at the Wall. And if Jon or Danny was the sole narrator, the reader would miss out on everything happening in King’s Landing because neither Danny nor Jon are connected to that part of the plot. An entire element to the story is lost when a major POV character is dropped, which goes to show how strong George RR Martin’s writing really is. Something I like doing with multiple POVs is describing the same character in two different ways from two characters who would see them in a drastically different way. One description might paint a character as dark, alluring, and attractive, while another person might describe them as a rat-faced shifty-eyed snake that stinks of booze and dead fish. It’s the same character, but two different people see that character in entirely different ways. However, this also comes with a major backlash. It can be an absolute nightmare juggling not only so many plots, but trying to make them fit together nicely. You’ll notice this a lot with shows that emphasize drama and interconnecting storylines. They’ll be really strong in their earlier seasons, then peter out once they’ve hit the creative brick wall. It happened to Once Upon a Time and to a lesser extent, Glee. Both shows had tightly knit and compelling drama in season 1, but by season 4, both shows felt like they were just going through the motions and had lost the edge that made them interesting. Even with something as well-written as Game of Thrones, it’s still possible to have someone’s story be weaker than everyone else’s. Arya Stark for instance spent the first couple of seasons focused on learning to sword fighting, then once the Hound died, she went to Braavos, but it always kind of felt more like a detour than really what Arya’s story was supposed to be about. She was a little girl out for vengeance, she went to Braavos for a season or two, didn’t really learn much, and then she came back to Westeros and pretty much went right back to exactly who she was before going to Braavos. Now granted, I’m going by the TV show, but it always felt to me at least that Arya’s vacation in Braavos was just kind of George not knowing what to do with her as he built up to the big climactic battle. So if you’re going to use shifting POVs, it’s important to weigh the pros and the cons carefully.

[atamascolily]

more CotJ meta, because apparently I cannot be stopped

I don't understand how essence transfer works in Children of the Jedi.  It seems... wildly inconsistent depending on what is narratively convenient at the time.

I don’t know why Callista is able to make the jump from her original body to the Eye of Palpatine’s gunnery computers and then from the computers to Cray’s body without (much) issue, while poor Nichos couldn’t. Maybe it's because Callista had received secret Jedi training from her master that Nichos didn’t have access to? Or because it would interfere with Hambly’s plot to give Callista Cray’s body? 

(I think we all know the answer to this, but I’m gonna go through all the arguments anyway.)

Luke does float the idea of Cray creating a droid-body for Callista to inhabit, which Cray and Callista both reject, but for wildly different reasons.

   “You said Djinn Altis showed you—taught you—to transfer your self, your consciousness, your … your reality—to another object. You’ve done it with this ship, Callista. You’re really here, I know you are …”

   “I am,” she said softly. “There’s enough circuitry, enough size, enough power in the central core. But a thing of metal, a thing programmed and digitalized, isn’t human, and can’t be human, Luke. Not the way I’m human now.”

So Callista’s argument is basically that a giant ship is big enough to contain her spirit, but a droid wouldn't be? How did Exar Kun manage this, then? I mean, granted, he was evil, and had low standards for ethics, but still... I don’t get it.

I get her main point here: she believes she's more "human" as a ghost than she would be as a droid, or with her spirit somehow “translated” as a series of zeros and ones, as Cray was somehow able to do with Nichos. And I can see why she wouldn’t want that kind of existence for herself. But I still don’t get how consciousness works in this novel, and why Callista can’t transfer herself--her real self--into a different object, the way she did before, instead of being “translated” by Cray into a digital copy.

This also begs the question of how much Callista's HUMAN spirit is influenced by thirty years in the computer core, which the novel doesn't address, but fics like Deaka's "Blue Screen" on FFN are fortunately there to fill the gap.

Here’s Cray’s take on Luke’s request to “fix” Callista:

   “To turn her into what Nichos is? To cannibalize parts from the computers, wire together enough memory to digitalize her, so you can have the metal illusion around to remind you what isn’t yours—and can’t be yours? I can do that … if that’s what you want.”

   ...“Not the way you and I are human.” Cray came over to them, her blond hair catching fire glints in the greasy light. “Not the way Nichos was human. I should never have done it, Luke,” she went on. “Never have … tried to go up against what had to be. My motto was always ‘If it doesn’t work, get a bigger hammer.’ Or a smaller chip. Nichos …”

   She shook her head. “He doesn’t remember dying, Luke. He doesn’t remember a switchover of any kind. And as much as I love … Nichos … as much as he loves me … I keep coming back to that. It isn’t Nichos. He isn’t human. He tries to be, and he wants to be, but flesh and bone have a logic of their own, Luke, and machinery just doesn’t think the same way.”

   Her mouth twisted, her dark eyes chill and bitter as the vacuum of space. “If you want me to, I’ll make you something that’ll hold a digitalized version of her memories, her consciousness … But it won’t be the consciousness that’s alive on this vessel. And you’ll know it, and I’ll know it. And that digitalized version will know it, too.”

So Cray rejects it because she doesn’t want Luke to make the same mistake she did: of seeing a replica as the original. And she makes a point of calling herself out on her attachment to Nichos, so much so that she warped and twisted her life to try and hold onto to him when she couldn’t. And she’s telling Luke not to do the same thing with his own life--which he will of course ignore.

I'm used to thinking of identical digital files as interchangeable, but that's not the case here when you're downloading human consciousness. There's also this idea that the droid/digital versions isn't "real," which is also worth chewing on, but a whole 'nother philosophical debate in and of itself.

But Cray's other point is also worth considering: the body we inhabit has qualities of its own that are impossible to deny; they shape our experiences of the world. This is why I'm absolutely floored that nobody ever follows up on Callista's experiences in Cray's body--how she's able to just smoothly take over, and the only issue ("software bug"?) is that she can't access the Force. This is... probably not how it works. I wrote a fic about this, but it only scratched the surface of the story possibilities for dysphoria and "body-as-a-character".  

(I solve this problem of essence transfer in other fics by arguing that it only works smoothly--i.e., with minimal dysphoria and a complete transfer of Force powers--if your spirit jumps to a physical clone of your original body. This explains why clone!Palpatine can access the Force, while Callista can't, because Cray's body 'recognizes' Callista's spirit as foreign to itself and is continually fighting her, so much so that all her Force abilities are tied up in holding her in that body--which is also Force-sensitive.)

Also, re: robot bodies and human consciousness, I’m reminded of a passage in Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium” here:

   Once out of nature I shall never take    My bodily form from any natural thing,    But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make    Of hammered gold and gold enamelling    To keep a drowsy Emperor awake...

"Sailing to Byzantium" is all about what it means to be old in a failing body, right from the opening line--"That is no country for old men". And while it's poetry and there are a lot of ways to interpret, one valid take is that it's about shedding your bodily form to become a robot/artificial construct so you can live forever, and I have a lot of Feels about that in relationship to Star Wars. (Paging Anakin Skywalker!) But I digress.

Going back to CotJ.  an additional problem is that any physical components will be carrying the malvirus of the Will:

   “Thank you, Cray. And don’t think I’m not tempted. I love you, Luke, and I want … I want not to have to leave you, even if it means … being what I am now, forever. Or being what Nichos is now, forever. But we don’t have the choice. We don’t have time. And any components, any computers, you take from this ship, Cray, will have the Will in them as well.

I don’t know why she can’t jump to an object unconnected with the Will--like, say, her lightsaber. Isn’t Exar Kun using a big statue of himself as an anchor? I mean, it’s kinda of impractical compared to being inside a computer, but maybe it could be a temporary thing until Luke is able to build her a ship of her own??

(A lightsaber would be a really good choice as an anchor because of the kyber crystal inside, which Callista may or may not have a working relationship with if you hold them to be sentient or partially sentient beings...? There's fic potential there, that's all I'm saying.)

(As a further aside, in my Star Wars/Portal crossover “Testing Limits,” I postulate that the Will is a GLaDOs-like uploading of a human consciousness into digital form. I still believe that holds true for canon, even though there’s not much supporting evidence other than that the Will is set up as foil to Callista and it adds to the incredibly Gothic atmosphere. Either the Will is human consciousness, or it’s modeled after human consciousness for maximum Uncanny Valley effect because Luke is always describing it as having a presence and malevolent intentions, and Callista is always fighting it.)

So Barbara Hambly spends a lot of time establishing that Cray's body is the only viable (hah!) option for Callista, which will be important later on. But let's get back to Nichos for a minute, and his failure with essence transfer. 

It's weird because at the beginning of CotJ, Cray talks about Nichos transferring his SPIRIT to the droid body using the Force and Ssi-ruuk entechment--which sounds eerily identical to what Callista did thirty years earlier--but they know something's wrong right away when Nichos can't use the Force. Cray's all "I can fix that, it's a technical difficulty!" but Luke knows better. Everyone knows, except for Cray.  

I think THAT is the moment where Luke and Cray should have had a Talk, when it was absolutely clear to everyone that whatever Cray was doing hadn't worked--that she'd succeeded in making a digital copy, and the original Nichos was actually dead.

Instead, Cray buries all her considerable energy into "fixing" Nichos mechanically. She believes with enough research, she can shape the droid Nichos into a human being... which doesn't solve the fundamental problem and misses the point entirely.

He heard her voice, its usual brisk sharpness honed to the brittleness he’d heard in it more and more in the past six months...

“It’s really just a matter of finding a way to quadruple the sensitivity of the chips to achieve a pattern, instead of a linear, generator. ... Hayvlin Vesell of the Technomic Research Foundation spoke in an article of going back to the old xylen-based chips, because of the finer divisibility of information possible. When I return to the Institute—”

“That’s what I’m trying to impress on you, Dr. Mingla—Cray.” Tomla El’s voice was a murmuring concert of woodwinds. “This may not be possible no matter how finely you partition the information. The answer may be that there is no answer. Nichos may simply not be capable of human affect.”

“Oh, I think you’re wrong about that.” She’d gained back the smooth control in her voice. She might have been speaking to a professional colleague about programmatic languages. “Certainly a great deal more work needs to be done before we can dismiss the possibility. I’m told also that in experiments with accelerated learning, at a certain number of multiples of human learning capacity, tremendous breakthroughs can occur. I’ve signed up for another accelerator course, this one in informational patterning dynamics …”

Her voice faded down the corridor. A great deal more work, thought Luke, hurting for her, pressing his hand to his brow. It was Cray’s answer to everything. With sufficient effort, sufficient maneuvering, any problem could be surmounted, no matter what the cost to herself.

And the cost to herself, he knew, had been devastating.

I actually really like Cray's arc in this novel--that she's forced to drop the perfectionism and workaholism she uses to block her considerable pain, and comes to accept the situation as it is, and finds peace in doing so. I just wish this realization didn't culminate in assisted suicide, that's all.

(That said, this scenario gets 100% creepier if you imagine flipping the genders here--if “Dr. Mingla” was a male scientist resurrecting his female lover in a droid body. I wonder if Luke would have intervened sooner in that case, instead of just assuming Cray had everything under control because she was an expert?)

While we're on the subject of "by any means necessary" and "avoiding one's problems": in contrast to Cray, Callista's original decision to transfer her spirit to gunnery computer to watch over it is framed as laudable. But even there, there are hints all is not well:

“It wasn’t … so bad, after a time. Djinn had taught us, had theoretically walked us through, the techniques of projecting the mind into something else, something that would be receptive, to hold the intelligence as well as the consciousness, but he seemed to regard it as cowardly. As being afraid or unwilling to go on to the next step, to cross over to the other side. Once I was in the computer …”

I.e., there's a reason why essence transfer is mostly practiced by the Sith--because it's a kind of clinging to life, or a version of life, rather than embracing what is and moving on...

Also, I don't see anything in this explanation that requires computing capacity, as Callista will claim later, so... *shrugs* I don't know what's happening there. CotJ has this weird relationship between the Force and tech, where Luke can physically manipulate objects with his mind, even though the Force is only generated by "life", but Irek remote-starting the Eye of Palpatine or controlling Artoo-Detoo is seen as "impossible" and novel. And yes, Irek does have special training and tech augments to help him, and I like the implication this is a specialized skill, but...like I said at the beginning, I don't get how this all works except for “narrative convenience” and “authorial fiat”. 

Anyway, CotJ strongly implies that Cray was misguided to cling to Nichos and to pursue "life" for him at all costs, for both Nichos and herself. Yet somehow when Callista does it, it's okay, because Luke loves her... even though Callista herself is way more ambivalent about what she's done, and her acknowledgment that

“Everything has to be paid for... I should have known there would be a risk... I might have guessed there would be a price.”

And I think that's one reason I like Children of the Jedi so much: that there IS a cost, that there ARE consequences, and not even magic space wizardry can fix or solve every problem. I like that Callista pays a price for the ethically dubious act she does--somewhat, but not entirely mitigated by circumstances, and by Cray's eagerness to participate in this (unprecedented?) experiment.

Also, you want more nightmare fuel? I just realized last night we only have Callista's word for what went down on the ship in its last moments--that, and it seems 100% in keeping with Cray's state of mind leading up to this, to the point where Luke was afraid to leave her alone because he was worried she was going to hurt herself. It gets even creepier when you realize Callista's ghost immediately volunteers to sit with Cray after Luke realizes this,  and I can't help but wonder what happened between the two women when Luke isn't around to witness it.

Callista's account at the end makes it sound like Cray realized at the last minute that she wanted to follow him--that it was an impulsive decision, somewhere in between stunning Luke and stuffing him into the shuttle and the destruction of the Eye of Palpatine--but I wonder. I really wonder. Cray and Callista clearly had time to plan a "what if Luke doesn't cooperate?" scenario and leave a recording for him to find in the shuttle, so I wonder how exactly the whole "you can have my body, I don't want it" conversation went down. There's a fic in there for sure.

But even taking Callista 100% at her word, I like the irony that she chooses to go along with Cray's scheme in part because she's so in love with/emotionally attached to Luke (just as Cray can't let go of Nichos and Luke can't let go of Callista)--only to eventually realize that there's something she values more than her relationship with him, namely her own life, and her own relationship to the Force, which has always been a part of her life and is now "missing". Cray chooses to die for love, Callista chooses to live for love... only to set it aside, because LIFE is more important to her than her love for one specific human being... just like she sacrificed her own life to destroy the Eye, and left her first lover in the process... PARALLELS, Y'ALL. I LOVE ME SOME NARRATIVE FOILS, YO.

Anyway, this got long and rambling, but I believe my initial thesis that essence transfer is wildly inconsistent and the results depend almost entirely on narrative convenience still stands.