#but all the members are so charming and naturally themselves which is so refreshing to see!

[wishingyouback]

been currently obsessing over the new boy group boynextdoor and i can't get over how lovely all the members are! i'm quite literally addicted to their songs; they've been on repeat & im half expecting to grow tired of it but that's not happening anytime soon i feel hahaha

[dreamersworldduh]

INSUFFERABLE

• DAMIAN WAYNE x MALE READER

SUMMARY — Damian Wayne is infamous for his arrogance, icy demeanor, and undeniable lethality—a product of his strict upbringing and assassin’s training. In stark contrast, Y/N Prince embodies optimism, determination, and an infectious positivity that lights up any room he enters. On the surface, they couldn’t be more different—two polar opposites in every way. Yet, beneath it all, they share one undeniable connection.

WARNING! Swearing.

WORDS! 9.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! This is for @dwelkisses— it was going to be a oneshot, however, I got an idea, so don’t worry this is only part one out of three! The next one is definitely spicy…i hope you enjoy!😉

NEXT PART! TWO.

Damian Wayne has always been defined by his personality—arrogant, cold, and undeniably lethal. From a young age, he carried the deadly discipline of an assassin, a legacy inherited from his upbringing in the League of Assassins and sharpened under his father, Batman. This demeanor didn't fade as he matured into adulthood; if anything, it became more pronounced. Damian was never one to engage in idle small talk or seek companionship outside the tight-knit circle of individuals he considered family. One of the rare exceptions to his guarded nature was Jon Kent, the son of Superman and Damian's closest friend.

Damian and Jon's friendship began when they were just kids—Jon was 10, and Damian 13. Despite their contrasting personalities, the two quickly became inseparable. Jon's optimistic and good-natured demeanor served as a counterbalance to Damian's stoicism and intensity. Over the years, their bond deepened, evolving into a brotherhood that Damian fiercely protected. To Damian, Jon wasn't just a friend; he was family, someone he trusted implicitly. Nothing—and no one—could shake the foundation of their relationship.

That is, until Y/N Prince entered their lives.

Y/N, the son of Wonder Woman, was a force to be reckoned with. By the time Damian and Jon were in their early twenties, both were firmly established as heroes in their own right. No longer sidekicks, Robin and Superboy had proven themselves valuable members of the Justice League, earning the respect of their legendary predecessors. It was during this time, as Damian and Jon were navigating their roles as newly minted full-fledged heroes, that Y/N stepped onto the scene. Taking up the mantle of Wonder Boy, Y/N joined the Justice League with a striking presence and a legacy just as formidable as theirs.

Y/N's arrival would alter the dynamic between Damian and Jon in ways neither of them anticipated. What began as an exciting addition to their world would soon challenge the unshakable bond they had shared for nearly a decade.

When Jon Kent first met Y/N Prince, the connection between them was immediate and undeniable. Jon, with his open heart and innate kindness, found himself drawn to Y/N's charisma and strong-willed nature. Y/N, much like his mother Wonder Woman, carried himself with a regal confidence and a sense of purpose that was hard to ignore. He had a sharp wit and a warmth that made him effortlessly likable, even among the most intimidating of heroes. The ease with which Jon and Y/N fell into conversation—playful banter one moment, deep discussions the next—only solidified the natural chemistry between them. It wasn't long before they began forming a close bond, one rooted in mutual respect and a shared passion for justice. Jon saw in Y/N someone who could inspire him, challenge him, and understand the complexities of their unique lives as the next generation of superheroes.

Damian Wayne, however, had an entirely different reaction to Y/N. From the very first moment they crossed paths, Damian found himself bristling at Y/N's presence. To him, Y/N was everything he couldn't stand in a person: confident to the point of arrogance, outspoken, and unapologetically bold. While others might have found Y/N's charm and light-hearted attitude refreshing, Damian saw it as infuriating. Y/N's tendency to challenge him, both in strategy and personality, grated on Damian's nerves. He viewed Y/N as reckless, overly self-assured, and too quick to speak his mind without considering the consequences—a stark contrast to Damian's disciplined and calculated demeanor. It didn't help that Y/N seemed to have a knack for pushing Damian's buttons, often meeting his cold glares with a smirk or a sharp comment that only fueled the tension between them.

To Damian, Y/N represented an unwelcome disruption. He had spent years cultivating his role as one of the most respected and feared heroes of his generation, and the arrival of Wonder Boy felt like an intrusion into the dynamic he and Jon had built. Worse, Damian couldn't ignore how quickly Jon had taken to Y/N. Watching his best friend laugh and bond with someone Damian found utterly insufferable only deepened his resentment. Every interaction with Y/N felt like a battle of wills, a constant clash between their polar-opposite personalities.

What Jon saw as chemistry and camaraderie, Damian saw as an unnecessary complication. And while Jon was blissfully unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface, Damian's simmering dislike for Y/N threatened to become a fault line in their once-unshakable friendship.

Y/N often found himself tagging along with Jon and Damian during their downtime, something that seemed natural given his growing friendship with Jon. Whether it was meeting up in the Watchtower's communal areas, training together in the Justice League's facilities, or teaming up on missions, Y/N's presence became a regular occurrence in their lives. To Jon, this was a welcome development—he enjoyed Y/N's company and appreciated the way their personalities meshed so effortlessly. But for Damian, Y/N's inclusion felt like an unwanted intrusion. Every moment spent with Y/N only solidified his dislike for the newcomer.

Damian, never one to mask his feelings, made no effort to hide his disdain. At first, it was subtle: curt responses when Y/N tried to engage him in conversation, a cold demeanor whenever they were in the same room. But as time went on, Damian's distaste became more pronounced. He began to act as though Y/N didn't exist, outright ignoring him in nearly every setting.

During missions, Damian treated Y/N as if he were invisible. He would issue orders to Jon, coordinate strategies with the team, and even acknowledge the input of lesser-known members of the Justice League, but never Y/N. If Y/N offered a suggestion, Damian would dismiss it with stony silence or carry on as if he hadn't spoken at all. It wasn't just Damian's words—or lack thereof—that stung; it was the way he refused to even look at Y/N, as though acknowledging his presence would be a waste of effort.

The cold shoulder extended beyond the battlefield. In the Watchtower's common areas, when Y/N would enter the room and wave in greeting, Damian would pointedly avert his gaze, pretending not to notice. If Y/N sat down across from him during meetings or meal breaks, Damian would remain stoically focused on his food, a datapad, or whatever was in front of him, blatantly ignoring Y/N's attempts to spark conversation. Even the simplest acts of civility were beyond Damian's reach—no nod of acknowledgment, no casual glance, no sense that Y/N was even there.

For Y/N, this behavior was both baffling and frustrating. He couldn't understand what he had done to earn such hostility, and Jon, ever the peacemaker, often tried to downplay Damian's actions, insisting that his best friend would warm up eventually. But the longer this dynamic persisted, the clearer it became that Damian's animosity toward Y/N was deeply rooted, and it wasn't going away anytime soon. Y/N wasn't just dealing with the coldness of a teammate—he was facing the icy walls of a man determined to freeze him out entirely.

Growing up as the son of Wonder Woman, Y/N had always believed that handling difficult personalities came with the territory. He had spent his entire life watching his mother navigate tense situations with poise and grace, including her unique dynamic with Batman. If she could deal with Bruce Wayne's brooding intensity and unyielding attitude, surely Y/N could handle Damian Wayne's coldness. At least, that's what he thought at first.

However, as time went on, Y/N found Damian's hostility more grating than he'd anticipated. The constant dismissiveness, the refusal to even acknowledge his presence, and the palpable tension during every interaction wore on him. Initially, Y/N tried to brush it off, reasoning that Damian's attitude wasn't worth his energy. But after weeks of icy silence and blatant disregard, Y/N's patience began to wear thin. He wasn't one to take disrespect lying down, and while he admired his mother's diplomacy, he also inherited her fierce sense of self-respect. If Damian wanted to play this game, Y/N was more than ready to meet him halfway.

Gradually, Y/N's demeanor toward Damian began to shift. What had once been attempts at friendly conversation turned into curt, one-word responses. If Damian was going to act like Y/N didn't exist, Y/N saw no reason to extend him the courtesy of warmth or kindness. Around Jon, Y/N was his usual self—friendly, engaging, and full of camaraderie. But the moment Damian entered the room, his tone would shift. He spoke only when absolutely necessary, and even then, his words were clipped and to the point. Any attempts Jon made to involve both of them in a conversation were met with polite but firm refusals from Y/N. It wasn't outright hostility, but it was clear to everyone in the room that Y/N was no longer interested in bridging the gap with Damian.

Still, Y/N wasn't entirely closed off to the idea of resolving their differences. Deep down, he knew that tension between teammates wasn't ideal, especially since they were both members of the Justice League and often worked together. He told himself that if Damian ever chose to act like an adult and address the issue, he'd be willing to have a civil conversation and bury the hatchet. But until that happened, Y/N decided he wouldn't waste his energy trying to fix something Damian clearly had no interest in repairing. For now, as far as Y/N was concerned, Damian didn't exist either.

Caught in the middle of this silent war was Jon, ever the peacemaker. Jon hated seeing his two closest friends at odds, especially since he could see the potential for them to get along if they would just make the effort. He often tried to mediate, encouraging Y/N to give Damian another chance and urging Damian to stop being so difficult. But both were stubborn in their own way, and Jon's efforts seemed to fall on deaf ears. Still, Jon felt it was his responsibility to fix the situation. Whether they liked it or not, Y/N and Damian were going to be working together for the foreseeable future. And if they were going to continue hanging out with him, Jon was determined to find a way to get them to at least tolerate each other. For now, though, he was stuck playing referee in what felt like an endless standoff between two of the most strong-willed people he knew.

Jon, ever the optimist and a firm believer in the power of friendship, decided that he'd had enough of the cold war between Damian and Y/N. Watching his two closest friends silently bristle at each other every time they were in the same room was exhausting. No matter how much he tried to smooth things over, Damian's stubborn pride and Y/N's growing indifference made it impossible to create any kind of harmony. It was clear to Jon that if things were ever going to improve, he would need to take drastic action. That's when the idea hit him—a bold, perhaps reckless plan that could either bring them closer together or completely blow up in his face.

Jon's plan was, in a word, devious. It was the kind of thing Superman would probably shake his head at, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If Damian and Y/N weren't willing to break the ice on their own, Jon would force them into a situation where they had no choice but to work together—or at the very least, talk to each other. The idea was risky, but Jon was confident in his ability to execute it. After all, he knew both Damian and Y/N better than anyone else. If anyone could pull this off, it was him.

The first step of Jon's plan was to engineer a situation that would leave Damian and Y/N completely reliant on one another. He knew that forcing them to cooperate under high-stakes circumstances might break down the walls they'd both built. Whether it was an "accidental" team-up during a mission or a carefully planned training exercise gone awry, Jon was determined to create an environment where they couldn't avoid each other. His goal was simple: put them in a situation so challenging that they'd have no choice but to set aside their differences and start seeing each other as allies.

Jon spent hours crafting his strategy, carefully considering every detail. He knew Damian would see through anything too obvious, and Y/N wouldn't take kindly to being manipulated. The plan had to feel organic—like fate or coincidence rather than a deliberate setup. He toyed with the idea of isolating them in the middle of a mission, perhaps arranging for an "equipment failure" or creating a scenario where they'd need to rely on each other's unique skills to succeed. Alternatively, he considered a more personal approach, such as tricking them into spending time together outside of work, under the guise of a casual outing. The possibilities were endless, but the goal remained the same: force them into a situation where they couldn't ignore each other.

As Jon finalized his plan, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbled within him. He knew this could go one of two ways. In the best-case scenario, the shared experience would break the tension between Damian and Y/N, helping them see each other in a new light. In the worst-case scenario, it could escalate their animosity and make things even worse. But Jon was willing to take the risk. Damian and Y/N were two of the most important people in his life, and he wasn't about to let their stubbornness ruin what could be an incredible friendship.

With his plan in place, Jon couldn't help but grin. Whether they liked it or not, Damian and Y/N were about to be thrown into the deep end of this manufactured bonding experience. All Jon could do now was hope for the best—and maybe prepare for the fallout if things didn't go according to plan.

It was a quiet afternoon when both Y/N and Damian were immersed in their civilian lives, enjoying a rare moment of normalcy away from their heroic duties. That peace was abruptly shattered when they each received an encrypted video message from Jon. The message was short and jarring, filled with static and tension. On the screen, Jon appeared disheveled, his usually calm and composed demeanor replaced by clear distress. "I'm in trouble," he said urgently, before the video abruptly cut out.

A second voice, cold and unfamiliar, replaced Jon's. "Catch him if you can," it taunted, before leaving behind a cryptic clue. The video ended abruptly, leaving both Y/N and Damian frozen with the same realization—Jon was missing, and he needed their help.

Y/N reacted immediately, his heart pounding with worry for his best friend. He raced to the Watchtower, intending to alert Superman, Batman, or even Wonder Woman about the situation. If Jon was in danger, they would surely have the resources and experience to track him down quickly. Damian, however, took a different approach. True to his calculated and independent nature, he focused on the clue. He knew Jon better than most, and he trusted his own ability to solve the mystery without needing to involve anyone else.

When Y/N arrived at the Watchtower, he was met by his cousin, Wonder Girl, who delivered disappointing news. Most of the Justice League, including Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman, were off-world dealing with an intergalactic crisis. There would be no immediate backup, no cavalry to call in. Y/N realized he had no choice but to handle the situation himself. With determination fueling him, he turned his attention to the clue left in Jon's message. If no one else was available to help, then he would figure this out on his own.

Meanwhile, Damian had already begun decoding the riddle. He pieced together fragments of the message, tracing Jon's likely location with methodical precision. As always, he worked alone, fully confident in his ability to solve the puzzle faster than anyone else. He hadn't even considered the possibility of teaming up with Y/N—or anyone, for that matter.

Their paths inevitably crossed when the first clue led them both to the same location: a desolate warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Y/N, frustrated but determined, had tracked the lead on his own, and the last person he expected to run into was Damian Wayne. The former assassin was already there, standing amidst the shadows of the abandoned building, his arms crossed as he glared at Y/N.

"You've got to be kidding me," Damian muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Y/N shot back, equally annoyed. "I'm trying to find Jon. You know, our friend?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "I don't need your help. I've got this under control."

Y/N bristled but forced himself to remain calm. "This isn't about you or me. It's about Jon. If we waste time arguing, we might miss something important."

Despite their mutual dislike, both knew Y/N had a point. The tension between them was palpable, but neither was willing to let their animosity get in the way of finding Jon. Reluctantly, they began to compare notes, realizing that their separate investigations had led them to the same conclusion. The first clue was a riddle referencing a hidden location within the city—a clue they would need to solve together if they had any hope of finding Jon before it was too late.

As they pieced the puzzle together, the friction between them remained, but so did an unspoken understanding. Neither would admit it, but deep down, both Y/N and Damian knew that working together—however reluctantly—might be the only way to save the one person they both cared about.

Inside the abandoned warehouse, the dim light flickered above as Y/N and Damian combed through the surroundings for any sign of a clue. Their search led them to a dusty table where an old projector sat, wires trailing to a small screen mounted on the wall. The machine whirred to life as they approached, displaying a haunting image that made Y/N's breath catch in his throat.

It was Jon—unconscious, his head slumped forward and his hands bound tightly behind his back. His normally vibrant face was pale, and a trickle of dried blood could be seen on his temple. The sight made Y/N's chest tighten with worry, and he clenched his fists at his sides. Next to him, Damian's sharp eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as his mind raced to assess Jon's condition.

Before either of them could fully process the image, the familiar chilling voice echoed through the room, distorted and mocking. "Ah, you're quicker than I expected," it said with a sinister chuckle. "But Jon is slipping further from your grasp. Can you save him before it's too late? Let's see how clever you really are."

The image of Jon flickered and disappeared, replaced by a second clue. This time, it was a cryptic riddle accompanied by a fragmented map. The voice laughed once more before the screen went black, leaving Y/N and Damian standing in tense silence.

Y/N was the first to speak, his voice laced with urgency. "We don't have time for this. We need to figure out this clue now." He leaned over the table, studying the map intently.

Damian, already annoyed by Y/N's presence, scoffed. "Don't state the obvious," he said coldly. "I'm more than capable of handling this without your input."

Y/N straightened, fixing Damian with an incredulous look. "Are you serious right now? Jon's life is on the line, and you're still acting like this is some solo mission."

"Because it would be easier if it were," Damian snapped back, his tone cutting. "At least then I wouldn't have to deal with distractions."

"Distractions?" Y/N shot back, his voice rising. "You mean the person actually trying to help you save your best friend? Grow up, Damian."

Their voices echoed in the empty warehouse as they butted heads, their tempers flaring with each passing moment. Damian's icy demeanor clashed with Y/N's fiery resolve, and neither was willing to back down.

"You're wasting time," Damian said, his voice sharp as a blade. "If you stopped talking and started thinking, we might actually make progress."

Y/N glared at him, stepping closer. "And maybe if you weren't so full of yourself, we'd have figured this out already. Newsflash, you're not the only one who cares about Jon."

For a moment, it seemed like their argument might escalate further, but the sound of the projector powering down snapped them out of it. Y/N exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he said tersely, pointing to the riddle. "Let's focus on this."

Reluctantly, Damian turned his attention back to the clue, his eyes scanning the words with sharp precision. The riddle referenced a "silent guardian of the city" and "a beacon in the darkness," cryptic phrases that seemed to point to a specific location. Damian muttered the lines under his breath, analyzing each word with practiced skill. Meanwhile, Y/N focused on the fragmented map, trying to piece together the missing sections to get a clearer picture of their next destination.

Though they worked in tense silence, the underlying friction between them remained. Every now and then, Damian would scoff at Y/N's suggestions, dismissing them with a cutting remark, while Y/N would respond with an exasperated sigh or a pointed glare. Yet, despite their clashing personalities, they slowly began to make progress.

"Wait," Y/N said suddenly, pointing to a section of the map. "This part here—it's an old signal tower. It matches the 'beacon in the darkness' part of the riddle."

Damian glanced at it, his lips pressed into a thin line. "And the 'silent guardian' could refer to the gargoyle statues near the tower. It's a stretch, but it fits."

Their eyes met briefly, a reluctant acknowledgment that they were finally on the same page. Without another word, they grabbed their gear and prepared to head to the next location. The tension between them was far from resolved, but for Jon's sake, they managed to set it aside—at least for now. As they left the warehouse, the image of Jon's unconscious form lingered in their minds, driving them forward despite their animosity.

Y/N and Damian raced through the city streets toward the old signal tower, the weight of Jon's plight pressing heavily on their shoulders. The abandoned structure loomed in the distance, its silhouette cutting a stark figure against the setting sun. Despite their mutual animosity, the urgency of the situation forced them to move in tandem, their shared determination to rescue Jon driving them forward.

The signal tower, long out of commission, was eerily quiet when they arrived. Its rusted exterior and cracked windows spoke of years of neglect. Y/N and Damian exchanged a wary glance before stepping inside, their footsteps echoing in the vast, hollow space. The interior was dimly lit by beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows, casting long shadows across the dusty floor. The air smelled of mildew and rust, and every creak of the floorboards seemed louder than it should have been.

"This place is a dump," Y/N muttered, scanning the area for any sign of the third clue.

"Stay focused," Damian snapped, already moving toward a set of stairs leading to an upper platform. "They wouldn't lead us here without a reason."

As they searched the area, Y/N's frustration grew. There were no obvious signs of a clue—no markings, no hidden compartments, nothing that pointed to their next step. Meanwhile, Damian methodically examined the room, his sharp eyes scanning every corner. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the occasional shuffle of boots on the dusty floor.

Then, Damian's eyes narrowed. "There," he said, pointing to a small console embedded in the wall. It looked out of place among the decayed equipment, its sleek design suggesting it had been installed recently. Y/N followed Damian over to the console, and together they examined it. A faint glow emanated from the screen, displaying a single phrase: "Enter if you dare."

Before either of them could react, the floor beneath their feet shifted. There was a loud metallic groan, and suddenly the ground gave way. Y/N and Damian plunged downward, landing with a heavy thud in a dark, enclosed space.

The room they found themselves in was small and suffocating, the walls lined with reinforced steel that shimmered faintly in the dim light. A thick, mechanical hum filled the air, suggesting some kind of power source nearby. Y/N groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, brushing dust off his jacket.

"Great," Y/N said, his voice tinged with irritation. "A trap. Just what we needed."

"Obviously," Damian retorted, already examining the walls with meticulous precision. "Stay quiet. I'm thinking."

Y/N rolled his eyes but held back a comment. Instead, he stepped toward one of the walls, his frustration bubbling over. Without a second thought, he drew back his fist and unleashed a powerful punch, his super strength making the air ripple with the force of his strike. The impact reverberated through the room, but when the dust settled, the wall remained completely intact—untouched, as if nothing had happened.

Damian turned, one eyebrow raised in a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Impressive," he said dryly. "But if brute force worked, don't you think they'd have planned for that? This isn't just reinforced steel. It's likely lined with a composite that absorbs kinetic energy. You're wasting your time."

Y/N clenched his fists, his frustration mounting. "Well, excuse me for trying to get us out of here while you stand there doing nothing."

Damian ignored the jab, running his fingers along the wall's edges, searching for any hidden seams or mechanisms. "The people behind this aren't amateurs," he said coolly. "They've thought this through. If we're going to get out, we'll need to find the weak point in their design—not punch blindly like an idiot."

Y/N bit back a retort, his jaw tightening. "Fine. What's your brilliant plan, then?"

Damian didn't respond immediately, instead focusing on a faint indentation in the corner of the room. "Here," he said finally. "This looks like an access panel. If we can pry it open, we might be able to disable the locking mechanism."

Y/N moved closer, his super strength finally useful as he pulled at the panel's edges. With a metallic screech, the panel came loose, revealing a tangle of wires and circuits. Damian knelt beside it, his sharp eyes quickly identifying the control system.

"Just don't touch anything," Damian said as he began to work. "One wrong move and this whole room could collapse on us."

Y/N crossed his arms but held his tongue, silently watching as Damian's deft fingers worked the wires. Despite his irritation with the former assassin, Y/N couldn't deny Damian's skill. He had an uncanny ability to remain calm under pressure, a sharp mind that seemed to thrive in moments like this.

As Damian worked, Y/N's thoughts drifted to Jon. The image of his unconscious friend flashed in his mind, spurring him to action. "Hurry up," Y/N said, his voice tight with worry. "Jon doesn't have time for this."

"I'm aware," Damian replied curtly, not looking up. "If you stop hovering, I might be able to work faster."

The tension between them remained, but their shared goal kept them focused. Whatever lay ahead, they knew they would have to rely on each other to escape this trap and save Jon before it was too late.

Damian's hands moved with practiced precision as he worked on the wires inside the access panel. His brow furrowed in concentration, his sharp mind racing to bypass the security system and unlock the door. Y/N stood nearby, arms crossed and eyes trained on the former assassin, silently willing him to work faster. The room's faint hum grew louder, as if mocking their predicament, and the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Suddenly, the sound of static filled the air, making both Y/N and Damian freeze. A distorted voice, the same one that had taunted them earlier, crackled through hidden speakers in the room.

"Nice try, Damian," the voice sneered, dripping with amusement. "But you really think I'd make it that easy? This isn't about hacking or brute strength. No, the two of you have a... different challenge to overcome."

Y/N's head snapped toward the ceiling, his expression twisting in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice echoing off the steel walls. "What challenge?"

The voice chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. "You've both been running around, bickering like children while Jon's life hangs in the balance. It's pathetic, really. You're supposed to be heroes, yet you can't even hold a civil conversation."

Damian's jaw tightened, his hands dropping from the panel as he glared upward. "If you think this is the time for games, you're sorely mistaken," he said coldly. "Release us, or I'll—"

"You'll do nothing," the voice interrupted, sharp and mocking. "The only way you're getting out of here is if you two start acting like normal human beings for once. Talk. Get to know each other. Drop the egos and actually communicate. Until you do, this room will remain your prison."

Y/N blinked, his brow furrowing deeply. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You want us to... what, have a heart-to-heart?"

The voice laughed again, the sound grating on both their nerves. "Exactly! You're not leaving until you prove you can work together. Think of it as... team-building."

Damian's glare darkened, and he turned his attention back to the panel. "This is absurd. I'm not wasting time playing your ridiculous games."

"Oh, you'll play," the voice said with a knowing edge. "Because if you don't, Jon won't be the only one in danger. And don't bother trying to override the system. This room is designed to outsmart even you, Damian Wayne."

Y/N looked between Damian and the ceiling, his frustration boiling over. "This is insane," he muttered, pacing the room. "We don't have time for this. Jon is out there, and we're stuck here because someone thinks we need to 'bond'?"

Damian growled under his breath, refusing to acknowledge Y/N's comment as he crouched back down to inspect the panel. "Ignore the voice," he said coldly. "It's just trying to manipulate us."

The voice chuckled again. "Oh, you're so predictable, Damian. Always trying to brute-force your way through a problem. Newsflash: that won't work this time. You both need to figure out what's more important—your petty grudge or your best friend's life."

Y/N stopped pacing, his fists clenched at his sides. He looked over at Damian, his frustration warring with the nagging sense that the voice might have a point. "This is ridiculous," he said, exhaling sharply. "But if this is what it takes to get out of here and save Jon, then fine. Let's talk."

Damian didn't respond immediately, his fingers still working at the panel's wires. But the futility of his efforts was becoming increasingly apparent. The walls hummed ominously, as if to emphasize the voice's claim that there was no escape without cooperation.

"Damian," Y/N pressed, his voice firmer now. "We don't have a choice."

Damian's hands paused, his jaw tightening in frustration. He hated being backed into a corner, and even more, he hated the idea of bending to someone else's demands. But as much as he despised admitting it, Y/N was right. With a reluctant sigh, he stood and turned to face Y/N, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Fine," Damian said tersely. "Let's get this over with."

The voice cackled triumphantly. "Good. Now, let's see if you can play nice. The clock's ticking."

Both Y/N and Damian exchanged uneasy glances, their mutual dislike momentarily eclipsed by the weight of their predicament. Neither knew exactly what was expected of them, but one thing was clear: they had no choice but to confront their differences and figure it out together.

Y/N stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, his jaw clenched as he stared off into the distance. Damian, on the other hand, had returned to studying the panel, though his movements were slower now, as if he were only going through the motions. Neither of them seemed willing to speak, the weight of their shared animosity hanging thick in the air.

Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. The silence wasn't peaceful—it was sharp, like a knife poised to strike. Y/N could feel his frustration building, his patience eroding with every second. Damian's cold, aloof attitude grated on him, and the absurdity of their situation only made it worse. They were trapped in a room because someone thought they needed to "bond," and Damian's stubborn refusal to engage wasn't helping.

Finally, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. He straightened up, his eyes locking onto Damian's rigid form. "You know what? This is your fault," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Damian didn't even look up, his focus seemingly fixed on the wires in front of him. "I don't have time for your whining," he said flatly.

Y/N scoffed, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "Oh, I'm not whining," he shot back, his tone sharp with irritation. "I'm just pointing out the obvious. We're stuck in here because of you."

That got Damian's attention. He turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as they met Y/N's glare. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"You heard me," Y/N said, crossing his arms. "This whole situation—us being trapped, Jon being in danger—it all comes back to you and the way you act. We're supposed to be adults, Damian, but you act like a child every time we're in the same room."

Damian stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, his eyes cold and calculating. "I act like a child?" he repeated, his voice tinged with mockery. "That's rich coming from someone who can't stop blaming others for their problems."

Y/N stepped closer, refusing to back down. "You ignore me, dismiss me, act like I don't exist—and for what? Because I had the audacity to show up and be friends with Jon? That's why we're here, Damian. Because instead of acting like a mature adult, you've been throwing this petty grudge around like we're still in grade school."

Damian's jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he said icily. "You don't know me, and you don't understand anything about the dynamics at play here."

"Because you won't let anyone get close enough to understand," Y/N countered, his voice rising. "You've spent so much time building walls and pushing people away that you can't even see how ridiculous this is. I'm not your enemy, Damian, but you sure as hell treat me like one."

The room seemed to grow even smaller as the two of them stared each other down, the tension crackling like static electricity. For a moment, it looked as though Damian might lash out, his expression hard and unyielding. But instead, he turned away, his shoulders stiff as he tried to bury himself in the wires again.

"This conversation is a waste of time," Damian said coldly, though there was a faint edge to his voice now, a hint of something more vulnerable hidden beneath the surface.

"Yeah, because God forbid you admit you're wrong about something," Y/N snapped, his frustration boiling over. "We're trapped in here because of your ego. If you'd just been willing to act like an adult from the beginning, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Damian said nothing, but the silence that followed was heavier than before, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Y/N exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, his anger giving way to exhaustion.

"Look," Y/N said finally, his voice softer now but still firm. "We don't have to like each other, but we're stuck here. And Jon's out there, counting on us. So maybe, just maybe, you could stop acting like the world revolves around you and try actually working with me for once."

Damian didn't respond immediately, his head bowed as if he were still focused on the panel. But Y/N noticed the subtle shift in his posture, the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give Y/N hope that maybe, just maybe, they could start moving forward.

Y/N wasn't done. The frustration that had been building inside him for months spilled out like a flood, unchecked and relentless. His voice echoed off the steel walls as he paced back and forth, throwing pointed words at Damian with every step.

"You know what really gets me, Damian?" Y/N said, his tone sharp and unwavering. "It's not even that you're rude or dismissive—though, trust me, that's annoying enough. It's the fact that you act like this for no reason! You can't stand being in the same room as me, you ignore me, you snap at me, and for what? Because I exist? Because I'm friends with Jon? Because I dare to breathe the same air as you? It's childish, Damian. It's ridiculous."

Damian stood rigid by the access panel, his fists clenched at his sides. His jaw was so tight it looked like he might crack a tooth, and his usually impassive face was marred by a storm of emotions he couldn't fully suppress. But Y/N wasn't stopping.

"I tried to be nice," Y/N continued, his pacing quickening. "I tried to get to know you, to be civil, even when you made it clear you couldn't care less. But no matter what I do, it's never good enough for you. You just shut me out and act like I'm some kind of nuisance. And for what? What did I ever do to you?"

Damian's glare sharpened, his hands twitching as if he wanted to lash out—but not physically. No, this was something deeper, something he'd been trying to keep buried. He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again, his pride battling with the emotions he was so clearly trying to contain.

Y/N stopped pacing and turned to face Damian directly, his frustration boiling over into an exasperated shout. "Just say it, Damian! If you hate me so much, just say it already! Because I am sick and tired of trying to figure out what your problem is!"

That was it. Damian snapped. He whirled around to face Y/N, his green eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something raw and unfiltered. "You want to know why I hate you?" he shouted, his voice louder than Y/N had ever heard it. "Fine! I hate you because I don't hate you!"

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off by Damian's words. "What?" he asked, his voice softer now, confusion replacing his anger.

Damian took a step closer, his fists still clenched, his breathing uneven. "I hate you because I don't hate you," he repeated, his tone filled with a vulnerability he couldn't hide. "Because I like you. More than I'm supposed to."

Y/N froze, his heart skipping a beat as the weight of Damian's confession hit him. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. For the first time in the endless argument, he didn't know what to say.

Damian let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his dark hair as he looked away. "You drive me insane, Y/N," he said, his voice quieter now but still laced with emotion. "You're loud, you're impulsive, you're always trying to make everything about teamwork and feelings. And for some reason, I can't stop thinking about you. About how you always seem to be in my space, how you somehow get along with everyone—even Jon. Especially Jon."

He turned back to Y/N, his expression a mix of anger and vulnerability. "It's easier to push you away than to deal with this—whatever this is. Because if I don't, I might actually... I don't know. Care too much."

Y/N's breath hitched as he processed Damian's words. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as he stood there, staring at the man who had spent months pushing him away only to admit that it was all a cover for something deeper.

"So, yeah," Damian said, his voice breaking slightly. "That's why I've been acting like a 'child,' as you so eloquently put it. Because I'm trying not to feel something I know I shouldn't."

Y/N was silent for a long moment, his mind racing. He hadn't expected this—not even remotely. The Damian he knew, or thought he knew, was guarded, cold, and impenetrable. But now, here he was, standing in front of Y/N, exposed in a way that made him seem almost... human.

Finally, Y/N found his voice. "Damian," he said softly, his tone devoid of its earlier anger. "You could've just told me."

Damian huffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Right. Because you would've reacted so well."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. "Honestly? Probably not. But this?" He gestured between them. "This whole war you've been waging? It's exhausting. For both of us."

Damian's gaze softened slightly, though his defenses were still up. "I didn't ask for this," he muttered. "I didn't ask to feel this way."

"Maybe not," Y/N said, taking a tentative step closer. "But it's there. And I'm not saying I know what to do with it either. But maybe, instead of ignoring it—or me—we could... figure it out. Together."

The room fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn't the suffocating kind. It was heavy with possibility, an unspoken understanding passing between them as they stood there, neither sure of what would happen next but both unwilling to take another step back.

Y/N stood in the silence that followed Damian's startling confession, his mind racing as the weight of the revelation sank in. Damian liked him—not in the begrudging, "I can tolerate you" kind of way, but in a way that ran deeper, more personal. The sheer thought of it was enough to throw Y/N off balance, but as he let the moment settle, something strange began to happen. He started to think back, piecing together little moments, subtle actions, and things Damian had done that, in hindsight, might've been signs all along.

The first thing that came to mind was how Damian always seemed to find reasons to be near him. At first, Y/N had thought it was just coincidence. They'd end up on the same missions, sit in the same meetings, or cross paths in the Watchtower's training rooms. But now that he thought about it, there had been too many of those "coincidences" to ignore. Damian wasn't the type to linger around people he didn't like—he went out of his way to avoid them. And yet, he'd always been there, on the edges of Y/N's space, as if he couldn't bring himself to completely stay away.

Then there were the glances. Y/N hadn't noticed them at first, but now they stood out in his mind like neon signs. Damian had a habit of watching him—not in an obvious or creepy way, but in fleeting moments when he thought no one was looking. Y/N would catch him sometimes, those sharp green eyes studying him from across the room. Whenever Y/N noticed, Damian would quickly look away, his expression shifting to one of annoyance or indifference. At the time, Y/N had written it off as Damian silently judging him. Now, though, it felt different, like there had been something unspoken hidden in those glances.

Y/N's thoughts shifted to their arguments. Damian had always been quick to snap at him, his words cutting and precise. But looking back, Y/N realized that Damian's harshness had always been oddly personal. It wasn't the kind of casual indifference Damian showed toward people he didn't care about—it was sharp, heated, and filled with an intensity that Y/N now recognized as something else entirely. It was as if Damian had been trying to push him away on purpose, as if keeping Y/N at a distance was the only way he could deal with his feelings.

And then there were the rare, fleeting moments when Damian's guard slipped. Y/N remembered one mission in particular, where he'd been injured in a fight. It wasn't anything serious, just a nasty gash on his arm, but Damian had been uncharacteristically insistent about treating it. He'd hovered closer than usual, his hands steady but his tone sharper than necessary as he muttered about "not being reckless." At the time, Y/N had thought it was just Damian being his usual bossy self. But now, he wondered if there had been more to it—if that had been Damian's way of showing he cared without actually saying it.

Y/N's mind kept turning, pulling together a series of small moments that, individually, hadn't seemed significant but now painted a much clearer picture. The way Damian's tone would soften, just slightly, when Y/N was upset. The rare times Damian had defended him in front of others, even if he did so begrudgingly. The almost imperceptible hesitation before Damian delivered one of his usual sarcastic quips, as if he were holding something back.

And then there were the times Y/N had caught Damian staring at him—not with judgment, but with something quieter, softer. Those moments had always been brief, gone as quickly as they came, but now Y/N realized they might've been the most telling signs of all.

Standing there, Y/N felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him—confusion, disbelief, and, oddly enough, a strange warmth. He'd spent so much time being frustrated by Damian's behavior, by his coldness and dismissiveness, that he'd never stopped to consider what might be hiding beneath it. Now that he saw the bigger picture, it was almost overwhelming.

"So, all this time," Y/N said slowly, his voice breaking the silence as he looked at Damian. "All those arguments, the glares, the snarky comments—that was... you trying to hide this?"

Damian's jaw tightened, his face unreadable as he averted his gaze. "I told you," he muttered, his voice low and almost defensive. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't want it."

Y/N studied him for a moment, his frustration giving way to something softer. "Maybe you didn't," he said quietly, his tone gentler now. "But it's there. And, honestly... I think I've been too blind to see it."

Damian didn't respond, but the way his shoulders stiffened told Y/N that his words had struck a chord. As the silence settled between them again, Y/N couldn't help but wonder how things might've been different if he'd noticed the signs earlier. Still, one thing was clear—this moment, as unexpected and messy as it was, was a turning point. And neither of them could turn back now.

Y/N stood there, staring at Damian, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of Damian's confession lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, yet undeniable. For months, Y/N had been convinced that Damian's coldness was born out of dislike or resentment. But now? Now everything felt different. The idea that all of it—every glare, every snarky comment, every cutting remark—had stemmed from something deeper left Y/N both stunned and strangely intrigued.

And then there was the other thing—something Y/N had never allowed himself to dwell on until now. Damian Wayne was, objectively, one of the most attractive people Y/N had ever met. He was sharp, confident, and carried himself with an intensity that few could match. It wasn't something Y/N had actively acknowledged before, but standing here now, the realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

"So," Y/N began, his voice lighter than it had been moments before, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. "You have feelings for me, huh? You like me." He stepped a little closer, his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I mean, I guess I can't blame you. After all, I am pretty amazing."

Damian's glare snapped up to meet Y/N's, his cheeks faintly tinged with red. "Don't push it," he muttered, his tone clipped but lacking the venom it usually carried.

Y/N's smirk widened as he continued, undeterred. "Oh, I'm just saying it makes sense. I mean, look at you—you've got the whole brooding thing going on, the perfectly messy hair, and those stupidly sharp cheekbones. Not to mention, your dad is Bruce Wayne, so it's kind of unfair that you also got the genes for being ridiculously good-looking."

Damian rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the wall as if to avoid the conversation altogether. "Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere," he muttered, but the slight flush on his face betrayed him.

Y/N chuckled, stepping closer still until he was barely a foot away from Damian. "I'm just being honest," he said, his tone dropping to something softer, more genuine. "You're attractive, Damian. I'd have to be blind not to notice. But that doesn't mean I believe you have real feelings for me."

Damian stiffened at that, his jaw tightening. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, turning his head slightly to glance at Y/N out of the corner of his eye.

"It means," Y/N said, tilting his head, "that you've spent months pushing me away, acting like I'm the most annoying person on the planet. And now you're telling me you've had feelings for me this whole time? Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical."

Damian's lips pressed into a thin line, and Y/N could tell he was holding back a sharp retort. But instead of letting Damian retreat into himself again, Y/N decided to take a risk—a big one.

"Alright," Y/N said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "If you really have feelings for me, prove it."

Damian's brow furrowed, his confusion evident. "Prove it?" he repeated, his tone wary.

"Yeah," Y/N said, stepping even closer until they were practically toe-to-toe. His voice dropped lower, more challenging now. "Kiss me. If you really feel something for me, then kiss me."

Damian's eyes widened, and for a moment, Y/N saw a flicker of panic in his expression. But just as quickly, Damian's face hardened into a mask of composure, though his faintly reddening ears betrayed him. "That's ridiculous," Damian muttered, his voice quieter now.

"Is it?" Y/N countered, leaning in slightly, his smirk still in place. "I mean, if you don't have feelings for me, you've got nothing to lose. But if you do..." He trailed off, letting the weight of his challenge hang in the air.

Damian's hands clenched at his sides, his internal struggle plain as day. Y/N could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was trying to weigh the risk against the reward. Finally, Damian let out a sharp exhale, his green eyes locking onto Y/N's with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

"Fine," Damian said, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his hands. "If that's what it takes to shut you up, then so be it."

Before Y/N could respond, Damian closed the small distance between them, his hand reaching up to cup the back of Y/N's neck as he pulled him into a kiss. It wasn't hesitant or uncertain—it was bold, confident, and full of all the pent-up emotion Damian had clearly been holding back for months.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at first, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands instinctively gripping Damian's shoulders. It was like everything around them faded away—the tension, the argument, the very room they were trapped in—and all that was left was the fiery connection between them.

When Damian finally pulled back, his face was flushed, and his breathing was uneven. He met Y/N's gaze, his expression carefully guarded, though his eyes betrayed the vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide. "Satisfied?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, his lips still tingling from the kiss. Then, a slow grin spread across his face. "Okay," he said, his voice a little breathless. "You win. You definitely have feelings for me."

Damian rolled his eyes, though there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "You're insufferable," he muttered, but the faint curve of his lips hinted at a smile.

"And yet, you like me anyway," Y/N shot back, his grin widening.

For the first time, the tension between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something warmer, something that neither of them could ignore anymore.

“Well, I must admit,” the voice began, “this is… unexpected. It seems the camera in your little room went out at the most inconvenient moment. How tragic—I didn’t get to see whether or not you two actually talked like I instructed. Still, let’s see if you’ve earned your freedom anyway.”

Y/N and Damian exchanged a glance. Before either could respond, the mechanical hum of the door unlocking filled the room. Slowly, the heavy steel door creaked open, light spilling into the confined space. And there, standing in the doorway with a wide grin on his face, was none other than Jon Kent—perfectly fine, looking as though he hadn’t been in any danger at all.

“Hey, guys!” Jon greeted cheerfully, his hands stuffed casually into his jacket pockets. “Glad to see you survived my little… experiment.”

For a moment, neither Y/N nor Damian spoke, both too stunned by the sight of their supposedly kidnapped friend. Y/N was the first to recover, his confusion quickly giving way to disbelief. “Wait—what?” he said, stepping forward. “Jon, what the hell is going on? You’re fine?”

Jon laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he admitted. “The whole ‘kidnapping’ thing? That was me. Well, sort of. The voice and the clues? All part of the plan.”

Y/N blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “You planned this?” he asked incredulously. “The video, the clues, the room—everything?”

“Yep,” Jon said with a grin. “And honestly? It worked out even better than I expected.”

Y/N turned to Damian, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Damian, however, was glaring at Jon with a look that could have melted steel. “You’re telling me,” Damian said, his voice low and icy, “that you orchestrated this entire charade? You wasted our time, made us think you were in danger, and locked us in a room—all because you thought it would be fun?”

Jon raised his hands defensively, though his grin didn’t falter. “Okay, maybe ‘fun’ isn’t the right word,” he said quickly. “But I had a good reason! You two have been at each other’s throats for months. I thought, ‘Hey, maybe if they’re forced to spend some time together, they’ll work things out.’”

Damian’s glare only darkened. “I should have let you stay in that room,” he muttered under his breath.

Y/N, on the other hand, couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” he said, leaning against the wall. “It was a ridiculous plan. But… it wasn’t all bad.”

Jon tilted his head, looking curious. “Oh? Does that mean you two actually talked?”

Y/N shot a quick glance at Damian, who was still glaring at Jon with murderous intent. Then he shrugged casually. “Yeah, we talked,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I mean, if it weren’t for your little scheme, I never would’ve known about some… interesting developments.”

Damian’s glare snapped to Y/N, his eyes narrowing in warning. Y/N just grinned, thoroughly enjoying Damian’s discomfort.

“Interesting developments?” Jon asked, his curiosity clearly piqued. “What kind of—”

“Nothing,” Damian interrupted sharply, his voice cutting through the conversation like a blade. “It’s none of your business, Kent.”

Jon raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. There was an unmistakable tension in the air—one he couldn’t quite put his finger on—but before he could press further, Y/N clapped him on the shoulder.

“Let it go, Jon,” Y/N said, still grinning. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Jon frowned but eventually relented, though the suspicion in his eyes didn’t completely fade. “Fine,” he said, his tone reluctant. “But hey, at least you’re not trying to kill each other anymore. That’s progress, right?”

Damian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “If I ever find out you pull something like this again, Kent, you’ll be the one locked in a room.”

Jon chuckled nervously, clearly unconcerned by Damian’s threat. “Noted,” he said, turning to leave. “But hey, you can’t argue with the results.”

As Jon walked away, Y/N glanced at Damian, his grin softening into something more genuine. “You know,” he said quietly, “he’s not wrong. I mean, I still think the whole plan was insane, but… I’m glad it happened.”

Damian’s gaze shifted to Y/N, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Whatever,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind the words.

Y/N laughed, bumping Damian’s shoulder lightly as they followed Jon out of the building.

Neither of them mentioned the confession or the kiss. It was their secret for now, something too raw and new to share with anyone else—especially Jon. But as they walked side by side, the unspoken understanding between them felt like the start of something neither of them could deny anymore.

[swanwonyoung]

ATTITUDE

𝔦'𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔢 — how to embody this energy ?

1. What Is "Attitude" and Why Does It Matter?

"Attitude" is not just about how you look; it’s about the energy you carry. It’s the aura of confidence, effortless charm, and self-assurance. Think of idols like Wonyoung, Yujin, Gaeul Rei, Liz and Leeseo—they don’t just walk into a room; they own it. This energy makes people gravitate toward them, and you can cultivate it too.

Why? well, who doesn't want to feel better about themselves ? Who doesn't want to change their realities and be a better version of themselves than before? Like waking up on a random day and feeling like you own the world even if we all own it at the same time ? having confidence is a very good feeling and cultivating it is very important.

2. How to Embody This Energy?

— I will be analyzing the response given by chatGPT.

Posture & Expression: Stand tall, shoulders back, maintain a soft but confident gaze. Your expressions should be intentional, never over-exaggerated but captivating.

My analysis on this point: Since I started doing this, everyone started to notice how much I've changed, and if I already received a lot of compliments before? Now I receive even more and it's actually true, which further improves this point.

Aesthetic & Fashion: Always look put together, even in casual outfits. Hair, nails, and accessories matter—think "effortless elegance."

My Analysis : that's actually so true, you don't need to do a lot if you don't want to, if you take good care of your nails (you don't need to paint or design them), take care of your hair, keep your clothes clean and iron them before leaving your house, It already has a huge result, after I started paying more attention to it, even my mother praised my dedication to it.

Mindset: You are the prize. You don’t seek validation; you attract admiration effortlessly. No over-explaining, no unnecessary apologies—just pure confidence.

My analysis : I have always looked for validation from everyone, and that never did me any good, but the moment I started caring more about myself and didn't accept people putting me down, many turned against me! and that's not even a bad thing, removing bad and fake people from my life helped me a lot and that made me open my eyes and see that I MATTER A LOT.

Behavior: Move with grace, speak calmly, and never seem rushed. Confidence is about control, not arrogance.

My analysis : i'm actually hyperactive (ADHD) so sometimes i speak too fast, I move a lot and without stopping, and if that tires me, imagine all the people who talk to me? So I started to control myself a little, and that not only helped me, but it made people understand me better.

3. "Attitude Routine" – Inspired by IVE & the Song Lyrics

Written by AI, This routine is designed to align with the confidence and mindset of IVE members while capturing the essence of the song.

☀️ Morning:

Wake up at a time that makes you feel refreshed, not rushed.

– if you have school, college or work, sleeping early is recommended.

Skincare + subtle, glowing makeup to look naturally flawless.

– a 3 basic steps routine (washing your face, moisturizer & sunscreen) already gives a boost to your appearance.

Wear something that makes you feel confident, even at home.

– i stay at home most of the time, so i personally recommend this one.

Listen to empowering music (If you're a dive, IVE’s discography is a must).

🌟 Afternoon:

Engage in activities that boost your self-esteem (exercise, stretching, practicing good posture).

– if you stretch, watch hinafit's video "wonyoung pilates", i do this one often and it's easy but makes me feel refreshed and ready for the day.

Study or work on something that enhances your skills—knowledge is confidence.

– i love studying so this one is perfect for me, if you want to start doing this, i recommend it 100%.

Take mirror selfies, practice your best angles, and refine your body language. (Optional)

🌙 Evening:

A luxurious shower or bath to end the day on a high note.

– or at any time you want fr.

Skincare + haircare to maintain that glow.

– as i keep saying, basic works ! less IS MORE. quality over quantity. you don't need a lot of products to look nice, that's totally optional (+if you actually have money for all that).

Journaling: Reflect on your progress and write down affirmations.

– my fav habit, it's so good for my mental health.

Plan the next day—organized people radiate power and poise.

– you don't need to write a whole essay, if you write just the 3 main goals for the day, it's already good.

[cruisinmississippin]

Saw this interview Linkin Park did with Zane Lowe and its so refreshing how boring those guys turned out to be.

Not a backhanded compliment haha. I grew up with their posters, CDs n everything all around the house as early as kindergarten so yeah I did enjoy watching them just do their own thing even then.

Its cool seeing them in a diff light like that now, seeing each of the members talking n just realizing that most of them are not as articulate, or charming or even engaging as most ppl who are in the limelight as much. Ya know? Theyre STILL not comfortable putting themselves out there. Lol. Can you believe?

Buncha nerds, thats what. Jk.

Which is cool la because it must mean that theyve completely stayed out of certain aspects of fame, which can be as detrimental as it is enriching sometimes.

Theyre awkward af. Some of them la. Mike Shinoda ofcourse is more comfortable w speaking compared to the rest (cause hes been doin that since idk Hybrid Theory days? Hes always been quietly confident but not too much as in he knows when to stfu).

Zane Lowe as always is really good at his job n has this natural ability to get everybody to talk to him because he asks really good questions n insights. In fact, hes probably the best in the gsme out there rn. You could tell hes not tryna get clickbait titles on his videos, he genuinely cares about the process n the artists behind all tht. Thats why people trust him.

All in all, im just proud of them for not getting fcked in the head too much from all the fame, money n girls that came w the job at 1 point. Its a good sign to be hella uncomfortable with getting attention I think. Means u been busy with other things tht are far more important.

[greysfall]

My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

-        Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

-        The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

-        The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

-        Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

-        The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

-        Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

-        Still good music

-        Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

-        Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

-        The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

-        The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

-        Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

-        Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

-        The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.  

-        I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

-        The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game��

-        The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

-        Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

-        Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

-        Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

-        Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

-        Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.  

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.  

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.  

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild.  Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.    

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.        

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.  

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.  

[kitkatixx]

kirukiyo headcanons (long ish)

If you haven’t noticed-- these two are my otp, and v3 did them both dirty... both in terms of plot and their few interactions (hi, utdp, i’m surprised they didn’t have an event with direct interaction)

I haven’t done these formally but figured I’d drop a few of my headcanons as of now, since the ideas I have for these two are fluid, but the base nature of their relationship remains about the same. You’ll see below the cut, they’re fairly in depth and give some flavor to the characters (especially Kirumi) 

general summary 

Subtle, subtle, subtle. 

These two are experts at keeping their relationship under the table, and it takes the rest of the class--perceptive ones included-- quite a bit of time to figure out they’ve been together, even though many a student (Kokichi, Miu, Rantaro, Kaede) have made jokes about their likeness to a married couple. 

While they are more than capable of adapting to the scenario, both of them are private individuals at heart, in spite how their talents require them to be around people nearly at all times. So for Kirumi especially, she prefers someone mature who can respect her desire to keep the limelight out of her personal life. After all, she prefers to keep her home and (incredibly taxing, chaotic) work life separate... 

That being said, it is no secret to Class 79 (what I’ve dubbed the v3 cast in my HPA AU) and the upperclassmen (SDR2, DR3, THH) that the Ultimate Maid is a stubborn workaholic.

Thus, it takes a specific type of person to ‘get through’ to her-- specifically requesting her presence at refreshments, politely stopping her in the hallway for a conversation, all as cleverly disguised ‘breaks’ without infringing upon her time and duties. Even if it’s only momentary, small steps, persistence, and patience are key with her, as there is a fine line between obligation and devotion to one’s craft. 

Korekiyo happens to be able to see past the professional ‘selflessly devoted’ front that Kirumi maintains nearly at all times, having had the opportunity to observe numerous types of people in his time as an anthropologist, and given what was seen in canon, it’s fairly evident that he was intrigued, speaking highly of her post trial (he even has a FTE in her lab!) 

Initially, her insistence on wholeheartedly embodying the values of a proper maid piqued his attention, leading to him to take an interest in getting to know her more-- what makes Miss Tojo who she is, exactly? What motivates her to behave in such a way? And what of the human side of the Ultimate Maid? Such were the questions he wished to answer, and as any good researcher would do, it was necessary to approach this in a straightforward, concise manner.

Because of this unorthodox approach to getting to know her (indirectly) for a scholarly reason, Kirumi had no reason to decline his invitations to converse or shoo him away from observing her everyday duties as she would have done under normal circumstances. This in particular gave Korekiyo an advantage over many of his other peers, who would have had difficulty a) approaching her b) maintaining a sizeable conversation with her before moving onto her next task. 

Eventually, the two would find they share similar interests (Victorian customs, tea preparation, etc), and get along well with each other; the meetings that began as strictly for research evolve into moments where two friends are talking. 

Down the line, someone catches feels. 

Now as for who that could be... let’s move to the next section to answer that.

a few typical who does/is relationship headcanons:

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Korekiyo does. While Kirumi eventually does develop feelings for him first, she won’t act on them out of concern that the quality of her work will be compromised, and stays quiet. Korekiyo, however, takes a little longer after mulling over whether his emotions can be chalked up to his general adoration for all of humanity or genuine feelings for her. He does pick up on small changes in her behavior and routine-- serving his preferred meals and tea at just the right temperature, being especially open to assisting him even when she’s terribly busy, and so on, which motivate him to make the first move. Very small, but incredibly thoughtful of her. He’s always liked the details. 

The anthropologist is quite capable of being romantic if he so desires, but decides that with her in particular, it would be best to be polite and to the point. Of course, this is Korekiyo we are talking about, so he’ll still put his own twist on it-- so most likely discreetly slipping her a letter with a proper wax stamp on it expressing his feelings and a carnation, which in Japanese flower language is associated with fascination and distinction. 

The letter’s contents include notes of the uniquely human aspects of her he finds especially beautiful, and are highly specific: the faint curve of her mouth that appears for a split-second (when she thinks no one is looking) after someone receives retribution for their antics, her deft, graceful movements as she slices into vegetables and pours tea, the glint in her eye that appears after a particularly challenging request is given... the list could go on and on, he writes, but it would be far too long to be appropriate for this letter, yet Kirumi Tojo’s identity is so much more than only the Ultimate Maid. 

Lastly, it finishes with an attached sketch depicting one of the moments ‘when she is the most beautiful,’ showing her in her element... broom in hand, small frown on face, and scolding someone (read: Kokichi) After all, while many miss it, Korekiyo has picked up on the angry micro expressions that flit across her face after something particularly irritating has just occurred, and he loves them-- they make her humanity shine through. 

Subsequently, it would prompt her to meet somewhere secluded in the evening if she reciprocates-- her missing presence would be more than enough for him to take the hint. Not that she intended on doing so.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

You’d think it would be Kirumi, but no, Korekiyo is, beneath his unusual charm and charisma, by a margin. After the passing of his sister, it left him hesitant to get close to people at a personal level, which contributes to how he ended up choosing anthropology-- not only to travel and experience the world when she could not, but because it allows for one to be ‘close’ to humans in a removed manner. So while he can easily wax poetry about nearly anything about humans, cultures, or a person, he does this in a very ‘scientific manner’ at times, preferring to view things as an observer rather than a participator. Of course, this aspect of him was integrated into his identity long before HPA, but it is this distanced nature that contributed to his initial indecisiveness about whether his feelings are organic, and the occasional concern about how much emotional intimacy he is obligated to show in a relationship. Luckily, Kirumi isn’t the type to absolutely need direct communication in a relationship, and is more subtle in demeanor as well.

Having been in the service industry for years and hiding her own emotions (from herself as well), Kirumi is proficient at recognizing others’ needs, and picks up on these issues seamlessly. She isn’t exactly the best at opening up either (this is an area of improvement for both of them), but still makes attempts to directly talk to him about this. Generally, their form of communication is largely nonverbal, being highly in tune with each other-- to this couple, actions speak louder than words, but issues like these are best addressed face-to-face, with words, before they fester. 

3. Who is the most romantic?

The anthropologist takes the cake here by societal standards-- his love language is giving gifts and words of affirmation, whereas Kirumi prefers acts of service (no surprise there!) but both share quality time as a commonality, and are very attentive towards each other. Regardless of the gift, Korekiyo is always sure to pick something thoughtful and practical, the way she likes things-- though now and then there’s something more material with emotional value in the mix, which she secretly likes. Kirumi is not used to people being so direct in this department with her, so while she’ll politely cite her preference for gifts as something useful, the silk gloves and other paraphernalia he gets her are a nice way to validate she has an identity outside of being a maid.

Not to mention that he has a way with words, and is incredibly proficient at finding 50 unique ways to compliment her in public, much to her chagrin (and hidden embarrassment,) but he takes pride in, citing that she should be more proud of her accomplishments. Nevertheless, Korekiyo still finds her indirect way of showing affection endearing, especially when she attempts to politely deflect compliments as ‘doing what any maid worth their salt would have done.’ 

Some things never change... even though he and the other members of Class 79 have slowly gotten her to be more open about accepting assistance from others (she’s overworked herself and passed out once!) 

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Again, while both of them are capable of (and prefer) being lowkey in public, it’s free real estate in private, so once again, this goes to Korekiyo. His official love language isn’t physical touch, but he embodies all five of them quite well, this one very much included. 

Kirumi, on the other hand, doesn’t like PDA out of professionalism, which makes her a bit hesitant, even in the privacy of his or her room to be comfortable with it. This isn’t to say she isn’t curious or won’t even consider the possibility, but it takes her a considerable amount of time to warm up to it. Initially, the most you’ll see from them in public is subtle touches on each other’s hand-- little playful taps here and there-- which then morph into holding hands when no one’s around to see it. In private, they’re more willing to be physically close (think head in lap while reading), and Kirumi’s brushed his hair on more than one occasion. It should be noted that one of the most intimate moments the two have had was holding hands in private without any sort of fabric acting as a barrier. 

However, Korekiyo does have a cheekier side that slips out (more slyly playful to incite something interesting/fluster her) and is known to slip an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. If you squint, you might catch a faint flush on the usually unflappable Kirumi. Bonus points if this is during the evening, and a breeze blows by. Bonus bonus if this is in public, during broad daylight. 

The ‘class dad’ has to assert his dominance every now and then over the unruly children, no? 

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Love comes in a lot of different forms and of course, at each person’s pace. Both of them circle around this topic and have essentially said it nonverbally before, but the first to vocalize it is most likely still Korekiyo. It’s not in Kirumi’s nature to be direct about her emotions (but for duties and professional matters, absolutely), so it’s up to him to say he loves her first. 

It’s most likely uttered in private, accompanied with a small kiss, and very quietly-- so quiet you can barely catch it, but that doesn’t matter, because only the one who needs to hear it the most will. 

conclusion

Three words best describe this relationship: mature, meaningful, and synchronized.

Both of these individuals are aloof and formal on the surface level, but if one takes the time to truly get to know them, there’s quite the intense fire burning underneath in the form of being utterly devoted to each other every step of the way. Of course, this is all done in a very reserved manner, and if they don’t want you to know about it, you won’t. 

Well, if you got here, thank you for reading all of this. I’ve liked this ship for a while, and I remember being nervous to create content-- I’m sure know how volatile fandom life can be, no? Hope you enjoyed my take and spins on their relationship, and I might post more later. 

Feel free to request or drop something in the askbox for these two.

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Our Nightly Confidant 9

Lightest before Dusk

Her dresses flutter as she strides into her throne room. The hushed whispers die down at her entrance, her courtiers startled and her guards standing at attention.

When they had mentioned a tear in space, Zelda's heartbeat had picked up. There were only so many explanations, and some of her agents had already confirmed that they felt no hostile power in the spell. Was her Hero back? He'd been gone for weeks now. It seemed only right that he returned to her sooner than later.

(She forbid herself the thought that it might have been-)

But on her way, another servant had come to greet them. Link. Link had returned. And so she had entered with her queenly mask in place and her thoughts light.

A few of the heroes still groan as they try to get back their bearings. By the looks of surprise, it might not have been a very graceful landing. Her people shuffle about, nervous by the presence of armed strangers, and those that recognize Link amongst them... stiffen. She makes a mental note of their faces and allegiances, for later review.

The hero with the blue scarf notices her first, and he goes on one knee with a smooth, practiced motion. A knight, that one, she immediately knows.

The rest imitates the motion or pay her respect in whatever custom their era holds. The youngest is amusingly the stiffest, his eyes not on her but the knight. A touching bond, she imagines.

With pose, she greets them all, until Link's nearest companion – scarred, a little younger, naturally sticking close to Link in the middle of a crowd – seems to realize that she is Queen over Link. His expression turns from respectful to impish, mischievous and far too triumphant.

Link cringes as if he realizes exactly what goes through that one's mind.

… And he put that one's neck in a sidehold, trying to stifle the barks of laughter without much success.

“Oh, hey, your majesty, did you know what Twi sa-?”

Link's hand slaps on top of the exuberant one's mouth. A tad desperate for his silence, and though she knows no words her Hero had spoken would be truly damaging, she cannot resist the urge to tease him. With her best, coldest mask, she arches a single eyebrow. Link's face takes on a cherry red color, one she had yet to see from him.

Muffled and swallowed snickers abound from the group of heroes. Poor Link shushes them, and it is when the knightly one reminds them of her presence that they settle, somewhat. Link looks grateful, and a little torn. What relationship does he share with this hero? One of surface level friction, she muses, that cannot reach the core of their trust in one another.

Link schools his expression into a solemn look.

“My Queen,” he says, a hand over his chest and his head bowed.

“My Hero,” she replies, so perfectly even. “Have you travelled well?”

He has a dark glare for the scarred hero.

“It's been... an adventure.”

Yes, she pictures it nicely now. And part of her warms to the image of her Hero so well looked after.

“Is there need of my assistance for any of your companions, My Hero?”

Link pauses, then quickly glances back. “Right this second? No, we could use a moment to rest,” he says, and rolls his shoulder for show.

She allows herself a small smile.

“I bid you all welcome into the kingdom of Hyrule, brave heroes of time past and to come. Accommodations will be arranged for all of you tonight. Refreshments and food will be brought to you. You need only ask. The Royal Family does not forget the debt owed to its saviors.”

“We would be thankful for such generosity, My Queen,” he says, and the relief in the others is badly hidden.

She gestures for her guards to show them to chambers being prepared by some poor, rushing maids. Circumstances oblige. They'd be compensated in some way later. As the heroes move to obey, however, she raises her voice once more.

“My Hero, I would have you share some tea with me. We have much to discuss.”

A few of them misstep, and shoot Link curious glances.

The one-eyed soldier lifts an eyebrow.

But Link shakes his head at his commander. He lands a strong clap on the man's back and juts his chin at the exit. Silent words are exchanged without even a twitch, and, on cue, eight heroes leave the throne room through the front doors, led by an honor escort. Link, however, breaks the distance between them and offers a second bow.

“I am at your service.”

That you are, she thinks to herself. Her courtiers do not notice. Not the irony of her thoughts, nor the displeasure she must hide from them every other week.

They disappear together through the passage only the royal family may take, and together they climb the staircase to the highest point of the castle. Few members of her forces patrol the area, all of which pay her their respect, and try to hide some contempt for Link. It cements her plan in her mind.

She waits two heartbeats after the doors to her chambers close, then rushes into his arms.

“Zelda,” he whispers, at first, his arms strong around her, “it's not proper.”

She knows. Of course she knows. Many like to remind her. But queen she might be, she is also Hylian, and she missed him. Him and his lack of decorum, care for propriety. She never asked it of him. Not as themselves.

“Farore has blessed many of my court,” she replies, pulling away from him.

Tea and biscuits have been laid out at her orders, and she invites him to sit.

“To think they would still suggest you to be too lowly for any association with me.”

Link hums in his teacup. “They do say Farore loves her fools.”

Zelda shoots him a sharp look. “Do not insult yourself so.”

For all of a second, her knight looks sheepish. Then: “But...?” he asked, his fangs shining in the corner of his mouth.

She lets out a sigh. “But those people specifically are, indeed, fools.”

His chest rumbles with an unspoken hum, a melody from home. Ordon. Zelda has rarely visited, and not once in recent memory. For all Hyrule rules over Ordon, that province is marginal at best. Out of sight and out of mind to most her subjects, she knows. How ironic that the Golden Three would pick their Hero out of this forgotten corner of Hyrule. A reminder, it would seem, that none of her subjects deserve to be neglected. She took it seriously; she wonders more often than not if her nobles have.

Link does not speak right away. He samples the biscuits, always a little wary of food he cannot identify at a glance. A remnant of the life of the traveler, she had long guessed. But after the first bite, he nearly swallows the next two whole. They must have gone without rest for some time before the portal brought them to her. She is glad the kitchen had been forewarned to cater to their whims.

Her first sip of tea coats a floral flavor on her tongue. It is one of Link's favorites, and she can appreciate its subtle qualities beneath the light, almost perfume-like fragrances. She had not cared for it before, but now she is away from public eyes, she is quite famished herself.

Link looks at her like he knows, and it prompts her to, in more delicate words, play with him.

“The scarred, insolent one,” she starts, her tone neutral to hide her teasing, “he is the one the goddesses sent you to help, isn't he?”

Link pales a bit. “My Queen, he meant no-”

“Peace,” she says with a smile. “I care not, My Hero, for protocol beyond its use in social gatherings. Least of all for one I see dear to your heart.”

Reassured, Link relaxes, settling back into his seat with an equally tender smile. His eyes flit to her window, to the rolling clouds and the splatters of rain on the glass. So many tears from the heavens.

(They do not shatter two hearts.)

She banishes the thought. Her Hero is here, and followed by eight others across time and space. The very idea fascinates her. Makes her wish for time to speak with them and show them what records the kingdom has kept. The Chosen Hero, the Hero of Light, the Hero of Time. Hyrule only remembers so few, and there is temptation all on its own, to know that some may come from times yet to come.

But her desires do not weigh enough for the indulgence. Other matters are of greater import.

“Those heroes of legend. You trust them, then?”

“With my life.”

No pause. No consideration. Yes, she had thought as much. If no one else, Heroes of Courage could only be trustworthy. The Goddesses would never tolerate otherwise.

But in truth, that judgment, she had already decided upon witnessing the easy manners Link displayed around them. Link suffers no false-faced turncloaks. There had been nothing begrudging in their interactions. Rather, the brotherly banters they had shushed upon her arrival had amused her as much as it had enlightened her.

“Can you tell me about them?” she asks, gently. Not an order, but a request from a curious mind.

He lights up, and his earnest joy shines above the drab atmosphere of the late afternoon. He speaks exuberantly, familiarly, as if they are old friends. He even manages to snatch a laugh out of her, something she is well aware her court desperately tries ever still. Ice queen, they murmur out of her sight. A few hinges their courtship on their charm, and for the life of her, Zelda knows they cannot equal this simple man speaking of the love he has for these newfound brothers-in-arms.

He speaks of them like Ordon, like home, and perhaps it is what emboldens her to ask, after a delicate bite of her biscuit: “Do they... like their Zelda?”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile smaller and somehow more mysterious. Puzzling. It is not a mannerism he used to have. She wonders which heroes he picked it up from. Perhaps the scarred, one-eyed hero. Link had stood by him with a deference he is loath to show any he doesn't believe deserve it. And that man had been the stoic sort, at least on a surface level. If her suspicions about their respective identities proved correct...

Well. It matters not, she supposes.

Link takes the time to swallow another swing of his tea, the impudent farmboy that he is, and looks at her knowingly.

“The Chosen's smitten.” Link wipes some breadcrumbs from his mouth, which then turns upward into a smirk. “You should hear him when he tries to write her songs. It's adorable.”

“Yes, adorable,” she repeats to herself, willing her cheeks not to burn.

Quick as it came, the amusement drains out of him, and he sounds more apologetic next. “The truth is, I don't know, my Queen. Some of them are fond, some are a bit like strangers, and some are like us.” He points at her and himself a few times. “In-between. What do you think of that?”

“In some ways... reassuring, I would say. Part of me worries that I have not done enough for my kingdom in its time of need.”

He opens his mouth, indignation naked on his face, and she preempts him with a raised hand. He silences his reply, and she does not back down from his glare.

“She was always more important to your quest than I.”

With a grimace, he sits back down.

“True.”

He does not lie to her. She appreciates that, on the heels of a meeting with courtiers who are never honest with her. When they had barged in this very room, during the Twilight Invasion, one cursed, one mortally wounded, she had known that it would be her choice. Her choice, and her chance to save her kingdom. When Link speaks of her, he softens at this part, at the sanded out edge of her wits and quips.

There's a faint hurt in Zelda's chest. A longing, phantom, mere daydreams that do not belong to her. To give part of one's soul is to accept part of someone else's in return. In that way, it is quite like love. She had known it would hurt, and had done it anyway, for her hero needed another princess. But Nayru, at the very least, blessed her too much to let those visions of a brave wolf and braver man cloud her reason. No union could be successful from a pair of fools chasing shadows.

“You were important though, My Queen. Don't underestimate yourself.” He holds out her gaze with the strength that let him challenge the King of Evil. “You were our goal, our salvation – more than once, the last one to give me strength against Ganondorf. You brought the Light Spirits' blessing to that battle, and the Three know I wouldn't have managed without it.”

She finishes her cup. “One's advices are so much more convincing when equally applied to oneself.”

“Fair. We were meant to do it together, My Queen. Believe me, it's like history told me eight times over.”

Her lips curl up faintly. “Only eight times? And to think you could be told a hundred times without moving before. Nayru has finally seen you fit to receive some of her blessing,”

His indignation flashes in his eyes, and settles in his innocent, wolf-like grin. “Aww, shucks. Your Majesty, don't you be using big words to insult lil' ol' me.”

“It was no insult. Your determination often forces admiration, My Hero.”

He chuckles under his breath. He says something that might be 'wolf boy'.

This is what they are to each other: a way to remember one they do not wish to forget and whose hearts long to, so they may at last heal. They are. Healing. She knows this. Just as she knows the process is slow and grueling, but every meeting they hold in her chambers, every teacup shared by the window, their gaze overlooking Castle Town... she feels closer to it.

And by the gentleness in Link's eyes, she thinks he feels the same way. That even away from her, gallivanting through time and space, he has progressed as well.

Naturally, with none of the terrible awkwardness that plagued their early conversations, their words drift away to more casual topics, the health of the servants, the network of the resistance, the state of the kingdom. Easy words for her to speak. They drift from anecdotes about the castle's kitchen to the latest nobility gathering to her bemoaning of the state's newest budget.

At his request, she produces the copy for him to skim, which he does with a ferocity that is rather inappropriate for questions of maintaining bridges and holding the annual solstice celebrations. And therein lies the problem. He begins his commentary.

Link, it must be said, is also a miser of the worst sort. He would never let her exceed budget and does indeed question anything but the strictest necessity. It is as useful an attribute in an advisor as it is prodigiously irritating.

“My Hero, whilst the people can survive perfectly well on a tight purse, they do not want to. I must consider... certain sensibilities.”

“Why?” he finally asks, standing and disturbing his cup on the desk. “Why must you when it seems none of them ever do? How can they bow to you and then demand? You're their queen! Everything you've done has been to help Hyrule recover and thrive. Why can't they put their darned wants aside for one season?!”

If only her nobles could be half as loyal, she might actually enjoy the administration of her council. “It is my queenly duty, Link.”

His stubborn, darkened look recedes. “Aye, aye, I know. Big part of why I believe in you, Zelda, but...”

Her hand catches his, and through her glove and his gauntlet, warmth reaches from and to the divine mark they share.

“You wish it was not so. That others might be willing to sacrifice for the good of their brethrens.”

His ears droop.

To be a hero is to walk a lonely road. To have the world at your feet and its weight on your shoulders. And Link is strong, so strong to have done it.

In her hearth, the fire crackles and spits out dying ember. The dregs of tea in her cup have gone cold. They have been at this long, long enough for the gossip to come back to life, and momentarily, she dares imagine the ribbing Link will be subjected to when he meets back with his companion.

But, Zelda regrets, that would come to a quick stop, once they notice.

She has delayed as much as she could. But, again, duty demands it of her, of him.

“Forgive me, my Hero, for what I must ask of you.”

She sees it in his gaze. The surety, the sturdiness that is a man of the land. Stubborn and decisive. Less delusions than most. He knows, then, that she means it. That it is no idle speculation, and that he will suffer in the course of his duty.

Yet he nods, once, a short thing. “You already are.”

There is no doubt in him.

Not yet.

She names the place she must send him to, and so rises the shadows of his regrets in his sky blue eyes.

He does not hear much of her explanation. She proceeds as if he does, as gentle an offering of time for him to gather his Courage she can afford to give.

“My Hero,” she whispers to him at last, her touch light on his chin, “Link, return to me whole.”

It's as much an order as she dares give, and the ghost of his smile lets her know he understands her feelings.

“As long as you need me, My Queen.”

Need me forever, don't let me go, not you too, is the prayer he will never voice. Nayru help us both.

***

Flecks of sand grates against his skin as harsh winds pick up. He wants to say he doesn't notice, but it would be a lie. He'd rather focus on the irritating grit, on the whistle of scorching dry air. On the glare of the sun even as the shadows of pillars inch closer to them.

Yet, he can't quite manage.

He stares ahead at the place he most hates in his Hyrule.

He loves his country. Loves the beauty he found in every corner, in the smile of strangers and the purr of beasts. From start to finish, Twilight had simply loved the world he was born in. But this place, he can't bring himself to feel anything for it.

(he would be swallowed)

(torn from the inside, darkness spreading, a mask with tendrils forced on his face like those poor people he couldn't save)

“Sky... You probably don't want to get inside that place,” he hears himself say.

The patient wait twists into a knot of tension. The ring of silent question bears on his back, and he turns, comes face to face with a Sky that is stone-faced, all but daring to be left behind. His eyes are more steel than the sword in Twilight's hand.

A nod.

It was a futile hope. Sky was the first to incarnate the Hero's Spirit. He never lacked in Courage. But this will hurt. Hurt so bad to show Sky a glimpse of the darkness that the dream shared with his love will unleash.

(it's not on him, never was on Sky, their sweet knight from above, but Twilight knows too much about heroes not to predict what one feels about responsibilities)

Time stalks forward, diffusion some of the tension.

“Is this one of your world's temples, Pup?”

A temple? He wants to scoff. This place is no temple. Nothing sacred, not anymore. It's a place of misery and pain and grudges never allowed to rest. It's a testament of sin and it's the place he wakes up to in his nightmares, one prisoner amongst many, chained with a spiked collar, Hylian or wolf.

The others wait after his words, and he hates the honest curiosity he sees in their gazes.

He should find a gentler way to say it.

But simply standing in the shadow of this place drains him of his energy. He already feels the weight of memories pulling at his limbs. It takes a mild effort to look back to the old man.

“... No, but I believe it is where one used to be. This is the prison they built when they exterminated the Gerudo.”

Blood rushes out of Time's face. He looks pale, horrified. There's no real need to elaborate, is there? The Hero of Time knows why and how Hyrule and its Gerudo neighbors would go to war.

Something like guilt and disgust twist inside Twilight's stomach. Why did he say that?

“Twi!” Wild shouts, his objection all too obvious.

“Those that stayed died. The warriors. The zealots. Those that didn't believe the kokiri seer had been truthful about Ganondorf's reign of terror.”

Time looks on the verge of being sick. “They weren't meant... ” he trails off, his one good eye staring at the torture complex.

Twilight puts a hand on his shoulder. “I don't know the details. You'd have to ask my Queen for the records of the kingdom's history.” – He sighs, squeezes gently. – “But peace didn't last, and that's why this place was built out of the ruins of a sacred place. A desecration of the worst kind. To let the torments of the regretful last.”

He wants to ease the pain on Time's face so bad, but... he can't. Whatever else happened, Time had been a child at the time. He'd saved the kingdom. The cost...

Twilight fumbles with a match to light his lantern. He can't think of costs right now. It's not the place. The flame from his lantern illuminates the first few steps into the broken doors of the prison complex.

“Be careful inside. This place is haunted by more than just the horrors of Hyrule's dark past. Lost souls and living corpses are trapped inside.”

“Gloom and doom, much?” Legend snarks.

It takes effort not to snarl.

“Just don't get paralyzed by a scream when you're standing on quicksand, Bunnyboy.”

The others straighten at his uncharacteristical snap. That, or the image he suddenly conjured of them, slowly engulfed by torrents of sand, unable to move but all too aware of what was happening. Back then, if it hadn't been for...

Not the time to be losing himself in old memories.

His chest pangs with guilt. The way the others look at him. The surprise. The shock for his poor manners. He mumbles an apology. Turns away quickly to face the dried out shadows of the unlit tunnel.

Farore, he hates how the Arbiter's Grounds empties him from the inside out.

***

There were, to Twilight's knowledge, two likely locations for what his queen asked him to investigate. He had been silently praying when he'd opened the gates to the inner sanctum. Had come close to begging as Hyrule and Legend examined the dusty remains of the paper talismans, and though repulsed confirmed their power long lost, alongside what they had been made to restrain. The Lense of Truth hadn't revealed anything else, and

– he couldn't turn into a wolf, not here, not where she –

it had been a waste of time. Unsurprising.

“Why go for the least likely first then?” Warriors had demanded, his stance a bit more defensive.

Because the Death Sword had been sealed in the middle of the prison complex, and if he was wrong, then Twilight would rather avoid having to backtrack through this accursed place. Upon that reasoning, the rest conceded that he had a point, even if they had some complaints.

“If the source of that dark magic flare wasn't in that creepy cell, why are there some many monsters here?” Hyrule asks, off-hands, as he locks swords with a stall captain.

There's no reason to worry, not quite.

“This place is never empty of monsters!” he shouts over his shoulder, crushing some of the smaller skeletons under a broad swing of his sword. “It's been soaked in blood and torment. No one rests in the Arbiter's Grounds.”

Legend, balancing on a near sunken platform above sinking send, kicks away a moldorm with trained ease. He seems pleased for all of a few seconds, before Wind points behind him at a shambling shadow emerging from an alcove in the walls.

Legend's sword seizes midswing, a piercing shriek tearing through the air with the force of a waking nightmare. The scream bounces in their heads, bites into bones and wraps around flesh. It strikes and tempers, and leaves all nine of them fighting their own bodies for the right to move as it inches ever closer to its target. He hears strangled grunts from his left, clatters of metal on the ground from his right. Struggles to break free.

And all Twilight knows is he'll be damned if this place steals another loved one from him.

He stumbles forward, amongst the first to do so. He doesn't waste precious time thinking, assessing. The shadows swallow him, and he dashes on four legs.

Paws stomp over sand, bugs and spikes as he bounds and leaps.

His fangs tear through the rotten flesh with ease. The revolting taste used to make him retch. The decay, the dry leather, the sandpaper texture of bandages. He's not sure if he's imagining it right now, so numb his whole body feels.

He gnarls on the monster's throat till he hits bone, then leaps off. The thing can't scream anymore. It's barely a threat without that power. It's slow, cumbersome. It drags its claymore through sands, but it doesn't get a chance to swing. He steps out of shadows with his sword in hand.

The mummified head rolls on the quicksand, soon sunken and no more than a troubling memory. The rest collapses, and they can breath again.

He's not sure what his are called. They have elements of both Gibdos and Redeads. The massive sword is only in his Hyrule though. Lucky him.

He spits to the side, the glob black and green, and the taste, worse. “Vet, you good?”

Legend's pale, his fingers twitching, and his feet pull him back closer to the center of the platform. Startled is the word that comes to mind. It comes, and goes. Legend's too – wearied – seasoned to let a mere close call shake him.

“Yeah. Thanks, wolfboy. That beast's out of the bag now,” he says, leaning toward the rest.

Despite the spill of sand, the room feels oppressively silent. Tension knots into his back. He's had nightmares of this exact moment, he suddenly realizes. The moment when the secret is out and it is time to face their judgment, be it words, disgust or drawn swords. But the silence doesn't press onto him, doesn't stifle. Warriors gauges the others, Sky looks about ready to speak up, the same way Wild does. Time looks the most wary, and Four sighs with something like relief. An incredulous chuckle building in the back of his throat, it occurs to Twilight that he never told anyone which of them knew his secrets. He's never been one to parse them out, after all. And now...  

Now, Wind's shock simmers into something else as he looks to the other Links and sees little surprise or even wonder.

“Oh,” Hyrule says, the only one dazed, “I had a feeling.”

It's too muted a reaction. It sparks the flurry of feeling boiling just under Wind's skin. “Really?! We're the last two to learn?”

The way he glares at him, at the others. The accusation is clear. He thinks they don't trust him. That Twilight doesn't trust him. That... that he tricked him. Got the feelings out of him, then mocked him behind his back.

Twilight quiets the 'beast!' his mind screams. “It's not like that, Sailor. I never sought to reveal it to anyone. I” – fear – “dislike talking about it. It just happened.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Wind bites out.

“I mean it, Sailor,” he tells the kid, hoarse. “I'm sorry.”

His tone gives Wind pause. The teen frowns, looks up at him with suspicion. “This isn't over. I'm gonna ask for more later.”

“Of course.”

“Twi,” Wild suddenly calls, his eyes flashing with worry, “are you okay?”

They can't do this inside the Arbiter's Grounds. The traps alone would be too much of a risk.

He shakes his head, then wipes the congealed blood off his blade. “I'm fine. I just hate this place.”

Warriors, with deliberate timing, clasps his hands. “Great. Finally a point in common between the two of us, Rancher. How about you lead us out of here?”

“I'd be more at ease somewhere with less chances of an ambush,” Time adds, still scanning their surroundings.

He nods. Wrestles with himself. They need him. Him, he can't fail now.

“It shouldn't be too far. Let's go.”

Sky's face twists, something like guilt, something like determination. Twilight doesn't regret following his queen's order, but he does bury the sorrow he feels at seeing his brother's dreams further crushed. Hyrule was... is... a country with a long history, and some of it unworthy of the glory it received.

There's frankly nothing Sky can do to prevent this outcome.

The thought flares with guilt. Look at him, giving lessons about making peace with the inevitable.

He ducks his head and turns back to the traps they will need to navigate.

“We'll need some creative solutions, heroes. This place is best travelled with a very specific item, and I only have the one...”

But though Warriors is the only one to share the spinner item with him, the others all have access to impressive resources to play around the traps that litter the Arbiter's Grounds. And even for the few that look perplexed, Sky's whip, Wind's hookropes or their hookshots allow them to swing back and forth over dangerous obstacles to link the groups together.

All that being said, he will keep a closer eye on his spinner for the next couple of days, because Wild's starry eyes at the sight of Twilight bouncing around on complex rails had left him chuckling for the first time today. And he wasn't blind to the intrigued glances Legend and Four had had for the item either.

Were he in a generous mood, Twilight would advise Warriors to keep a close eye on his stuff too. Kleptomania was apparently a shared trait of the Hero's Spirit.

The skull's fragments are unmoved, and their path takes them past even the boss chamber.

Light washes over them, wonderful thing that chases half the ghosts that linger in his mind after a trek through the cursed prison. Cooling winds makes him want to shout after the dusty, heavy air that mummifies every corpse down there. He wants to celebrate with the others, but in the corner of his eyes, he sees the monolith.

Tears spring to his eyes unbidden. Why? Why is he like this? He tried so hard to heal, to get over it! He's an adult, not a lovesick teenager. He's done his best to deal with the pain. So why is it that he can go months right as rain and then, one day, he just hears the wrong thing, sees the wrong shades, and his whole chest crumbles on him?  

On a shaky breath, he attempts to steel himself, to dry the tears. In vain.

He is, Twilight decides there and then, pathetic.

***

How long does he sit in front of the black stone?

The sun started to set whilst he was here. Red light over sand cast lengthening shadows, and it's too easy for him to get lost in his scrutiny of them. None ever came to life. But he still looked, wondered, ached.

With no real hint to direct their searches, the group had commonly decided that they ought to rest for now, with double watch tonight to make sure they weren't taken by surprise in an ambush. Twilight had agreed, and pretended not to feel Time's insistent stare when he slipped away to...

To do what, exactly?

He's not even sure. He's been sitting there, legs hanging by the edge, scrutinizing the stone as if it would come to life.

Eh. A callback to a bitter period of his life. Damn it! He's over this. He is!

So why aren't you facing the others? Didn't you tell Wind you'd explain everything?

He knows his conscience is right. He still doesn't stand. It seems, on top of everything else, Twilight might also be a hypocrite. Goddesses, why did Farore ever look his way?

They're eating, he tells himself. He can smell the hints of Wild's spice mixes from here. Can hear, vaguely, the conversations, and could even guess the contents if he strained to catch the words. He'll have to apologize. To come clean. And that's enough to root him in place. Just a few hours longer, before they can no longer bear his presence.

The idea sends pricks of ice under his skin. Any of them would be a stab wound, but it's when his mind lingers on Wild, that silly brother of his, that the rage hits.

He doesn't know many tricks, not yet. He's still learning, but on anger alone, he feels as if he could suddenly disintegrate the black stone from his glare alone. He wants it gone. He wants to be freed of it, and it's that thought that flashes last when on the canvas of ink flashes shifting oranges and yellow.

Twilight's already upright. That glimpse of fire... It hadn't been the setting sun!

He wishes he could have said he moved with purpose, his mission still in mind, not a short walk that had his heart beating out of his chest. The closer he gets, the easier it becomes to define the impression. There is someone looking back at him from beyond the stone's reflective surface.

His stomach drops when he reaches the steps.

Only himself.

He knows his queen would have something to say if she knew he felt disappointment at his own reflection. With a surly, self-deprecating smirk, he lets his fingers run over the sharded texture. Presses his palm against the ice cold material.

Imagines that the skin is a paler, greyish shade, splattered black instead of his tanned pink. The fingers would curl into his, intermingles. He holds onto the feeling.

Then yanks.

A hand cut from starless night emerges from the stone, and Twilight throws down a dark copy of himself onto the ground. The doppelganger blinks in shock, momentarily dazed.

The expression hardly improves when the Ordon Sword skewers it to the ground.

“The Prison Gate?” he drawls. “Did you think I wouldn't see a temptation coming?”

That you'd be the first one I faced here? he doesn't say. Twilight has always been good at connecting with accursed things. With forbidden practices and tricks played out in the dark. Even before his quest, before all the things that turned him from goatherd to hero, there had been the book he'd taken a fancy to. The mirror in his basement. Old dreams of a dead wolf and a dead hero.

There's a lot Twilight doesn't say, not in front of some dark apparition.

“Queen's dog,” it spits, ink blood sprayed from the corner of its mouth.

Twilight watches, unmoved, as the shadowed being melts back into the sand by the black stone.

They both know which queen it referred to. Twilight, with a faint smirk, shakes his head. Despite his heart's desires, despite the pangs of the chains in his chest, he is the hero of the Light Realm. And his queen will be pleased to know that her Wolf took care of the problem with the Arbiter's Ground.

He casts his gaze over the desert, the setting sun. It's a shame then, that they will have to spend the night anyway.

***

Time gives up pretense. He has polished his biggoron sword and unclasped some layers of armor and fiddled with his ocarina, and none of this let him clear his mind enough to pretend he wasn't worried out of his skin.

Their evening routine is off. Even in dangerous circumstances, they had always managed to build an atmosphere of safety, of care. The ideal that none of them were at risk so long as they looked after one another.  

Tonight's akin to the long nights he spent with Hyrule watching over wounds and illnesses that he knows he could have prevented somehow. Everyone is of a second mind, and it boils over right after Wild finishes scrubbing his pots.

There's one bowl still full, untouched, a little to the side of their campfire.

The last of the pots vanish in a flash of blue lights. Wild knocks over his bedroll standing. “Okay, I'm done. I'm going to check up on him.”

“I'm coming too,” Four jumps to his feet, a split second faster than Sky, Warriors and Hyrule.

“Like hell I'm getting left out again,” Wind says fiercely.

Time wants to sigh and smirks. Goddesses, he never signed up to feel so much pride for these insane boys of his. Even if one of them takes the route of the electrified chu-chu instead, whom Time has to nudge with the tip of his boot.

“Probably doesn't want to see anyone,” Legend explains, arms stubbornly crossed over his chest, but he ends up on his feet too.

“We'll tell him you were worried too, don't worry,” Warriors drawls, and gets flipped off for good measure.

They find Twilight almost immediately. By common consensus, they'd agreed to begin their search with the chained black stone. Twilight had gazed upon it with the melancholy of an old man reminiscing about his lost wife and children. It had to be a direction, if nothing else, they reasoned. More so from the dark vibes Hyrule picked up from the strange object.

But for all their speculations, they find Twilight as soon as they set out to do so, sitting on some small steps in front of the monolith, facing away from them.

“You don't need to be here,” he says, not looking back.

“I think we do,” Wild snipes back, his stubborn expression eerily familiar. (Twilight's.)

“Thank you, but I'm fine.”

“You sure seem fine to us,” Legend can't help snark.

“I. Am. Fine.”

Clipped words against the bars of a cage.

“Don't bullshit us, Rancher.” Warriors calls out, worry too sharp for calm.

The sand near the pedestal swirls against the wind, then dies down.

Behind Time, Hyrule's breath hitches up. Time understands. He knows enough magic to recognize it and its flares when emotions run high.

“Enough. All of you. We're not here to corner him. Pup, we just want to talk with you. You haven't been yourself since we arrived here and we want to know how we can help you.”

Twilight whirls around with a feral snarl. “I SAID I'M FINE!”  

For the first time since meeting Twilight, Time feels the urge to take a step back. He doesn't give in, never has, but part of him is shocked that a hero gave him the feeling.

It's wrong. So very wrong, to see softness sanded away by pain. The glare sent back is raw, unfiltered, untempered. A sliver of flame through a cover of shades.

And... quick as it flashed, the fury drains out of him, the edges gone and the scowl lifted into a guilty grimace. Shades cup around the flames like hands on candlelight, to protect others from its rays. Twilight's ears droop slightly. The look alone is an apology, and it's so obviously the word on his tongue.

But Twilight says nothing, huffs a little breaths and turns away from them.

It can't be a coincidence that he dangles his cursed amulet just far enough from himself that they get a glimpse of it. He's still not looking back.

“It's dark magic, Wind. I take the form of a wolf by using dark magic. And that stone...” They can see his fists clench. “That stone was the pathway to their world. Not the gate, not the key, just... the path.”

Time wants to urge Wind to err on the side of caution, but he can't without tipping off Twilight, and even the casual confession seem too important to mess up.

Wind only looks thoughtful for a split second. “So where's the key?”

“It's gone now. Goddesses know I've looked.” The admittance sounds like old shame. “But the sages of old used it often enough that the mirror left its mark on it.”

“You're...” Hyrule starts, getting looks from the rest. “You're connected to it.”

Twilight hunches, just enough that it's visible. “Yeah. Collected the shards in the sand, bled on the stone, prayed to the Goddesses. Anything that wouldn't hurt someone else, I guess.”

The glaring omission in that statement makes Time's heartbeat accelerate. What did his pup do?

“Anyway, it was foolish. The path can only open for the true ruler of the Twilight Realm, and boy, is it not me. But the experiments did have a few side-effects.” – a hand gestures vaguely to his forehead – “Uli did say the tattoo fit, in a rugged, strong man kind of way.”

That forced cheer gets a cringe out of Four. Time has to file the observation for later. He cannot turn his focus away from the pup now. Not when he's bleeding pain right in front of him.

“A mother's love is blind,” Wild croons.

“Brat. She'd love you all.” They can hear the grin on his voice. “Not that she wouldn't pull your ear to teach you good manners, but she would love you anyway. Her, Rusl, Colin, even little Lumi, they'd love you guys. I'm so lucky...”

His sigh floats away, forlorn, like a love letter on desert winds. Time instantly thinks of the ranch, of the horses and the singing they all clammer to. It makes him remember the sunlit smile Sky had worn when they found themselves surrounded by clouds and enormous birds, the whooping cry Wind let out when he recognized black sails on the horizon, the relief Legend had hidden at the sight of his rabbit-hooded friend.

Time wants to meet Twilight's family. Wants to know those people that raised this remarkable young man. Wants to help them make him understand he is cherished back.

Because he sees the slight shaking that wavered wolf fur on his shoulders. Almost misses the sob. The admiration, the awed tenderness had grown twisted, uneven from a darkened fondation. It builds in Twilight's frame, builds in the thicker shadows on him and the shifting sands at their feet.

And Twilight's fist strikes the pedestal beside him, and something Time cannot see passes into the sand by the pedestal. Hackles raised, Four's skin is paler. He is staring so intently, his eyes almost a different color entirely in the dusk. More worryingly, Time notes with a grimace, is the faint chime he thinks he hears rising from the Master Sword.

“Pup, just tell us.”

And Twilight does.

He looks them in the eyes, a scowl on his face. “Why am I so selfish?” he rasps in disgust. “Why am I so fucking greedy? Why do I demand more than what I've been fucking blessed with?!”

Aren't they allowed a little selfishness? Time bites back. The goddesses gave them each a war. Why was it so wrong to want their peace once they'd won?

“I was lucky. Incredibly lucky. I found the children of my village, not one hair on their heads harmed. I rescued my childhood friend and restored her memories. I proved myself worthy of my teacher and let him rest. I... I saved Hyrule, Queen Zelda, the Twilight Realm. I didn't lose anything.”

It's like being stripped off a mask he had forgotten he was wearing. Twilight's cry reaches deep, and it's too easy to see why it's spoken like it was a flaw rather than a magnificent triumph. How can he make his boy understand?

Wild shakes his head. “You lost things too.”

“Nothing that mattered,” Twilight adds, under his breath, a cruel bite at the truth. “Most of a village gone, half the army dead, Zora's succession in shambles. All before the Light Spirits told me my destiny. But I'm fine. I'm great.”

“I can say with complete sincerity, Farmhand, that it doesn't help.” Legend juts his chin, then shrinks back, somber and restrained. “What you're doing. Don't salt your own wound. It mattered to you. It was real enough.”

Something about that strikes Twilight silent.

“She's not dead, Vet. She's not even hurt. She just had to leave to fulfill her duties as her people's rightful ruler. I knew that. I always knew that.”

And, strangely enough, Warriors speaks up, his voice soft. “Midna misses you, Rancher. She...” An hesitation. A chuckle. “Let's say she didn't say so in as many words, but sometimes, she'd get this look, as dusk falls.”

Wind's head snapped up at him. “Aw hell... you mean...”

“You weren't kidding,” Four muses, looking a bit embarrassed by the late realization.

And Wild hovers, looking so ready to rush forward toward his mentor. “Your scars are worse than mine.”

“There it is...” Twilight scoffs, or maybe sniffs. He's not looking at them, he seems determined to avoid all their eyes. He's staring right ahead, at the black stone that seems to weep in the settling cold of night. “There, there's my tragedy. A fucking broken heart. One... one person I wasn't allowed to keep.”

Time's heart ache. One person. So little, most would say, but his pup makes his sound like he had indeed lost his world.

“It's NOTHING compared to you all!”

The shout echoes over the winds of the desert. They don't say anything.

They can't say anything. Not when the core of Twilight's pain bristles at hints of their sympathy. Shame convinced him he isn't allowed to receive it. A witness to their woes no longer feeling adequate by his good fortune. It's all Time wanted for his successors.

Nayru, forgive me for my lack of perspective.

“Why are you all here?” Twilight hisses, rubbing at his eyes. “You don't need to hear my whining. Goddesses, I hate feeling like this. I'm fine.”

Fine, is what he repeats. It's enough to make someone hate the word.

“You're not fine,” Wild says, firm.

The answering chuckle bites. “I should be.”

And Time suddenly loses all his words, because his heart just skipped a beat. Farore be good, of all things to bequeath his eldest, it had to be this reluctance. Malon would have a field day with him.

“No one asks that you be invincible,” she speaks through him.

Twilight gives a full body flinch. Finally, he stands, stumbles as if drunk – on anger, on sadness, on self-pity – and he faces them all, red-rimmed eyes and a smile that makes them wince.

“I'm the furthest thing from that. Her last words to me were 'See you later'. See you later, as she destroyed the only way to connect our worlds together! Wolf boy, dog boy,” – they pretend not to see Legend wince – “she used to call me that, patting my head or my back. Good boy. Wolf boy.” Twilight's scoff is brittle, shattered glass. “That's what I am. That stupid dog tied to a tree that waits with a big grin for a master that's never coming back.”

His head jerks to the side with a clap.

Legend pulls back his hand, stern despite the worry. “Don't insult yourself like that, Twilight. You're a Hero, a real one, you hear me?”

The pendant around Twilight's neck suddenly pulses with pitch black light. The markings on his face darken. He straightens with some erratic, wild motion, fangs gritting as he lifts Legend with one hand.

“Then why does it still hurt so much?!”

Legend slips through shaken fingers. He does not flinch or back away.

“Why, Vet?”

“That's the life of a hero,” Legend says, not unkindly. “Lots of scars that don't really fade.”

“A hero? How can I be a hero when she thought the only way to keep our worlds safe was to break them apart? We'd just won, but she still... How can I be when even the person that led me to my quest knew better?” Emptiness reflects in Twilight's watering eyes. “I thought she trusted me.”

Time's hand goes to his sword. Every instinct in his body demands that he fights off what torments his eldest this much, that he proves that princess wrong, that he makes her explain and sooth the injury she inflicted.

“She was wrong, Twi!” Wild screams, clearly aching the same way.

Time reaches forward, and, without hesitation, brings Twilight's face into his shoulder. Runs gentle fingers through the gentle brown locks. His boy shudders, then melts. Grips him with desperate strength. It's not long for the wetness to soak into Time's clothes, and he has rarely cared so little about it before.

“I'm sorry, Pup,” he whispers. “I'm so sorry.”

It's a long time before Twilight pulls back, sniffling.

“Pops, the heck ya talkin' about? Didya punch me when I wasn't lookin'?”

Wild and Wind immediately pointed accusing fingers at him, booing.

“Shush you,” he orders, stern, before softening for his eldest. “And no, I didn't sneak a hit on you, Pup, but I wronged you all the same. Sometimes, you're so good at helping others that I forget you can need help too. I should have asked earlier.”

A hand goes to the back of Twilight's head, and his lips pull into a boyish smile. “Ah, not sure I'd have sang, Old Man. Not for something this... childish.”

“It's not childish, Twilight,” Wind says with a sad, half-grin. “If it hurts, it hurts, right?”

Hyrule jumps on the line and wrestles Twilight's hands away from him. “Sometimes, you have to care for yourself too. Even if it's silly, even if it's a little thing...” And there's the shine of green magic dancing between them. “Brighten up your day.”

“Guys, please,” Twilight begins, red flushing his cheeks.

Four slips right beside him and pokes, which was unexpected enough to get a yelp. “No, no, you said your part, Twi. It's our turn.” The smirk is impish, but subdued. “We're on your side. And we do need to apologize.”

Twilight throws his arms up in frustration. “What for? This is just my problem! Nothing that you need to be concerned with. Nothing that you did.”

“Wrong.” Time doesn't notice who says it. Mostly, because he's heard more than just one voice. (It could have been eight.)

“Because... because we let you take it all on. More than your share.” Warriors crosses his arms, huffs. “It's a leader's role to care for his men, and the soldiers to take on something for their brothers. It's how units work.”

Time ignores the pinch of guilt. The Captain hadn't meant it for him, but he'll take the advice to heart anyway. It should be fine. He can see the plans being born behind Warriors' eyes. For once, he's rather convinced that none of the younger ones will protest whatever rigid protocol Warriors' cooking.

“It's not like that,” Twilight mumbles. Weaker, less stubborn. “I love helping y'all.”

“Makes you feel useful, doesn't it?” Legend scoffs, but it is soft enough that Time can't even bring himself to chastise him.

“No. You deserve it!” he says with sudden heat, eyes clearing. “All of you. You all deserve someone willing to listen and help you. I... I just wanted to help you walk through your troubles. To help you find reasons to smile again...”

He sees it, and he wants to laugh. How fitting, that it's words like these that bring soft smiles on all their faces.

“Well, mission accomplished?” Four smirks.

“Darn it, Rancher,” Warriors grunts, giving Twilight a warning look that goes ignored.

“Can't wrestle that one away from me.”

“Oh, we shall see about that. But first,” – Warriors plops down on the sand, not a care for the time and place – “we're not leaving this unsaid. Spill already so we can smile you.”

It's absurd, but Twilight's gaze flares for a short moment with competitive spirit. Those two would never cease to amaze him in the strangest ways. Twilight kicks a little sand at the captain before letting himself lean in Time's grip.

“I hate her...” he whispers, and the shame shrouds him smaller. “Why did she do this to me? Why did she tie my heart to a promise that she never intended to fulfill? I hate her...” he whispers again, near inaudible. “And I hate that I love her still...”

“So?” Wild slides in.“You know me. You know how I feel about those people from my past.”

'They were friends with me. The whole world told me I was friends with them. Sometimes, it's like I can't escape it. Even if I don't remember what food they liked, when we met, what secrets they had besides what a few glimpses told me...'

“Remember what you told me?”

Twilight huffs, looking sullen and trapped. It takes a little sigh, and then knocking their foreheads together for him to admit. “S'fine if you don't know.”

Time nods, chasing the feeling he usually avoids. The bittersweet triumph at the cost of so many friendships. The lack of recognition meant for strangers on familiar faces.  

“It can be difficult, to share people's joy when the same reason brings us pain. You can be of two minds on the same topic, Pup. People aren't that simple.”

“I feel weak.”

“You're not weak, Twilight,” Sky said with a sad smile. “If I lost my Zelda... I'd shatter.”

“Need I explain what losing Malon would do to me, Pup?” Time adds, rueful.

“But they're... you're couples. Real couples. We were never...”

Legend smacks his shoulder. “'What if's can be more painful than a clean break,” he says, and the two of them look like mirror images, lost to their dreams for the span of a heartbeat. Then, sharper, “Don't apologize.”

Twilight's mouth clicks shut.

“We're in your corner,” Four says with a private smile. “As long as it takes to make you feel better.”

The blush returns. Time will be asking for context later, though he has an inkling. Wind shuffles to one feet, then swears and pats Twilight on the back without looking at him.

“And, you know, there's nothing shameful about crying. Or missing people. Or, you know, strange sadness.”

The pup breaths out a watery giggle, and a whimpered 'brat!' Wind smugly croons to the others, saying that was how it was done. Right until the laughter turns into a shudder, and they gather round again.

“It's okay, Twi,” Sky cooes, bringing him into the folds of his sailcloth. “Let it all out.”

The pup's fight left him. Too drained by the confession. Too raw from unbinding the wraps around his wounds. It's up to them to take care of it, and there's not one of them that hesitates. They're not in the habit of leaving suffering ignored, besides their own. Not anymore.

They promise to be better.

They have to be, for each other's sake. And they will be, Time will do everything in his power to ensure it comes to pass. Their group will come out of it reforged by their own inner fires. Their bonds unbreakable, their trust rewarded.

Thank the Goddesses for the pup.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: “Romantic Rail Getaway” Lu Jinghe Route, Day 2

Translation Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Lu Jinghe Route: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

Videos, where applicable, are hyperlinked on the headings in the post.

See under cut!

Part 1: Mangrove Forest Scenery – “The Beauty of the Mangrove Forest”

The dense mangrove forest meandered into little parts, and the rich green assaulted our senses, stretching to ends beyond our sight.

MC: The mangrove forest is so beautiful…

Lu Jinghe: Mhmm, it feels really good to breathe in fresh air.

In this sea of trees, I felt like I had become one with the clear, free air, making me particularly relaxed.

Lu Jinghe: Right! It said on the guide that the special events of the Mangrove Forest Park were canoe rafting and forest exploration.

Lu Jinghe: Which do you want to try?

Do you even need to ask? Only a kid would bother choosing. An adult would, of course…

MC: I want them all!

 Park Inquiry Hut

Staff: Hello, which event would you two like to try?

MC: We want to experience canoe rafting and the cableway adventure.

Staff: The canoe rafting location is at the forest dock. The two of you can follow the leftside pathway to the end.

Staff: The cableway adventure location just happens to be near the end of the canoe rafting event.

Staff: The two of you can try the canoe rafting first, and after you arrive to the end on the boat, you can follow the riverside forest path to go to the cableway adventure location.

MC: Okay, thank you.

Staff: No problem. If there’s anything else you want to know, you can ask me.

--

INTERROGATION START

Park Attractions

MC: May I ask, aside from the canoe rafting and forest exploration, what other fun attractions are there in the Mangrove Forest Park?

Staff: I’d recommend that the two of you check out the Pathway of Reverie and the root-carving art museum.

Staff: These two spots are also popular attractions in our park, and they’re worth the trip.

Pathway of Reverie

MC: What’s the Pathway of Reverie?

Staff: The Pathway of Reverie is a forest path, formed from specially-shaped mangrove wood.

Staff: We’ve designed a specific shape for each mangrove tree. Visitors who walk on the path will feel like they’ve appeared in a fairy-tale world.

MC: (A fairy tale world path? Sounds pretty charming.)

MC: When we have time later, let’s go see.

Root-carving Art Museum

Lu Jinghe: Where is the root-carving art museum located?

Staff: It’s near the art display area on the south side.

Staff: Over a hundred root-carving works meticulously designed by Tambuyani’s root-carving artists are collected there.

Staff: I’m sure visitors will definitely feel the charm of the root-carving art.

Special Events

MC: I’ve looked over the guide recommendations before. It seems like the mangrove forest park has some special events?

MC: What kinds of events are they? Could you give us a simple intro?

Staff: If we’re talking special… it’s probably the park’s tree-root carving experience and the mangrove bug barbeque taste test that the dining area just put out.

Mangrove Bug

Lu Jinghe: Do mangrove bugs taste good?

Why does Lu Jinghe look like he’s looking forward to it?!

Staff: The mangrove bug is a type of parasitic bug that lives in mangrove trunks.

Staff: After the chefs use their special methods to deal with it, and when Tambuyani’s special local dipping sauce is added to it, the taste is refreshing, with a special hint of fruit tree wood.

Staff: I recommend that daring guests try it out.

Lu Jinghe: Jiejie, how about we…

MC: Nope, nope. I… I can just watch you eat.

Root Carving Experience

MC: Whoa… I’m pretty interested in the root-carving experience!

Staff: The tree-root carving experience is on the first floor of the root-carving art museum. Visitors who would like to try can head there.

Staff: We provide mangrove tree roots for free to visitors who participate in the event, and the visitors can also take their carved works for themselves.

MC: (This one really tests hands-on skills. Hm… although, with Lu Jinghe here, I should be able to try!)

INTERROGATION COMPLETE

--

Staff: Do the two of you have any other questions?

MC: None left, thank you.

Staff: No problem, I hope you two have fun.

--

MC: Canoeing, the cableway, the Pathway of Reverie, and the root-carving experience… they all seem pretty interesting.

MC: Hm, looks like today’s itinerary is already full.

Lu Jinghe: It’s not full – it’s rich.

Lu Jinghe: Let’s go – our rich, fun day starts now!

 Part 2: Forest Exploration

[Gameplay]

Part 3: Pathway of Reverie

[Gameplay]

 Part 4: Root-carving Art Area – “Unexpected Indigenous Peoples”

Mangrove Forest Park

After we finished visiting the Pathway of Reverie and the root-carving art museum, we eagerly followed the path towards the next attraction – the canoe rafting.

But before we neared the path, thick smoke came from the shrubs, assaulting our senses, making me cough repeatedly.

MC: Ahem ahem… something’s caught fire?!

Lu Jinghe: Yeah, someone’s burning something in the forest!

Mangroves grew on the edge of the tidal flats, and the surroundings were all very wet. It was unlikely for a fire to occur naturally.

It was very evident that someone was intentionally burning something on the tree borderline.

Lu Jinghe: I’m going to contact the staff first, and then we’ll go see.

MC: Okay!

--

There were scorch marks all over the shrubbery and plants, and the further we walked, the more choking the smoke grew.

In the middle of a mess, several people wearing Tambuyani indigenous clothing had gathered up closely amid the trees.

Some people, holding torches, lit up the shrubbery and incinerated the grass. Some people, holding axes, were chopping off tree branches and clearing up the excess.

MC: What are you doing?!

My voice caught the attention of that group. A man that looked like the leader walked out.

Indigenous Leader: We’re plowing the land.

Lu Jinghe: Friend, don’t your words sound kind of wrong? You all are clearly burning the trees and cutting at random.

Lu Jinghe had just spoken when one of the indigenous people started to shout.

Indigenous Person A: Leader, drive them away!

Indigenous Person B: Exactly, exactly. What do foreigners know – don’t get in our way!

[Gameplay]

Indigenous Leader: We have a reason behind why we’re doing this. Foreigners, I’d encourage you to not concern yourself where you shouldn’t.

The indigenous leader’s tone downplayed the situation, as if cutting down trees that had grown for so long was as simple as pulling up weeds in a courtyard.

That’s way too awful. We absolutely can’t compromise so easily!

I thought about it, then decided to talk to them to delay time, until staff members arrived.

--

INTERROGATION START

Reason for Incinerating Trees

MC: Then couldn’t you tell us about the reason?

Lu Jinghe: Yeah, you’re keeping us foreigners in suspense by only speaking about half of it.

Indigenous Leader: You foreigners are so annoying!

It seemed like our questions had annoyed him. He put down the tools he was holding and started explaining to us.

Indigenous Leader: It’s such a waste to grow these useless trees on such a large tract of land. Might as well make space for us to grow parrot-tail fairy flowers!

Parrot-tail Fairy Flower

MC: Y-you’re going to plant parrot-tail fairy flowers?!

Aren’t parrot-tail fairy flowers a rare plant that Pax’s researchers only noticed recently?

It wasn’t just me – Lu Jinghe also had a stunned expression.

Although, he changed to an extremely professional business smile very quickly.

Lu Jinghe: The flower you’re talking about… what is it? How come I’ve never heard of it?

Indigenous Leader: That’s the sacred flower of Tambuyani. If you eat its petals, you can get rid of the diseases you have and live healthily and peacefully forever.

Lu Jinghe: If you eat this flower, is it that you’ll never get sick again?

Indigenous Leader: Yeah. Otherwise, how could we call it a sacred flower? Foreigners, want to buy some and try?

Lu Jinghe: Sure, how are you selling it?

As expected of Lu Jinghe. His tone was absolutely that of a foreign visitor that knew nothing and was easily fooled.

The indigenous leader gradually let down his guard, becoming quite eager.

Indigenous Leader: For our friendship, the price is negotiable!

Indigenous Leader: We’ve got flower fields at other places. How about I take you two there to see it?

Location of the Flower Field

Lu Jinghe: Where is the flower field? If I buy a lot, can you give me a discount?

Indigenous Leader: Hah, don’t worry! We’ve got a large parrot-tail fairy flower field in Imana Forest, and I guarantee that supply will be sufficient!

Indigenous Leader: As for discounts… we’ll have to see how much you buy.

INTERROGATION COMPLETE

--

MC: (If we keep asking, these indigenous people might actually take us to their flower field to see their supply.)

We’d delayed time for so long, so the staff members should probably almost be here.

I surreptitiously tugged at the opening of Lu Jinghe’s sleeve, hinting that it was about time. He turned around and winked, receiving my hint.

Indigenous Leader: Now that we’ve said this much, are you two going to buy the parrot-tail fairy flower?

Lu Jinghe: I thought about it seriously… and I feel like this situation still isn’t that reliable.

Lu Jinghe: Also, before you start conducting business so warmly, you should consider the current circumstances first.

Indigenous Leader: What?!

Not too far away, we heard the faint sounds of screeching sirens and the rolling movements of tires.

Seeing their plan dissolve away, the indigenous people showed expressions of fury, one by one.

Indigenous Leader: So goddamn annoying, you hindering foreigners!

However, it was pointless no matter how furious they got. Staff and police arrived very quickly and got the situation under control.

The end of the matter here could be considered a temporary moment of peace.

 Part 5: Wetlands in the Forest

[Gameplay]

 Part 6: Unexpected Interference

Mangrove Forest Park

The sky grew gradually darker, and the clamoring turmoil in the mangrove forest park also gradually died down.

There were only the remnants of burnt-smelling air from the incinerations, reminding of us the disaster that this mangrove forest had endured, not too long ago.

In this sort of atmosphere, neither I nor Lu Jinghe had the heart to have fun.

We sat by the river and randomly ate a few things, ending the day’s itinerary carelessly.

MC: I didn’t think that this much stuff would happen today.

Lu Jinghe: Ugh, the canoe rafting and the mangrove forest cableway adventure plans all went up in smoke.

Lu Jinghe dejectedly held a tree branch, drawing circles on the ground.

Seeing the mangrove branch in his hand, the scenes of the indigenous people roughly cutting down the trees and setting fire to the forest emerged before my eyes.

MC: The most troublesome issue right now are those indigenous people… what if they continue wreaking damage on the mangrove forest park tomorrow?

Lu Jinghe: I’ve gotten someone to let the local people in charge know about the situation, to have them dispatch people to supervise and manage this place.

MC: Hmm… that’s all we can do for now.

Lu Jinghe: I’m just afraid that they can manage this place for a while, but they can’t manage it forever.

Lu Jinghe: It seems like those indigenous people don’t know that burning and cutting down trees is a bad thing at all…

MC: That’s what I also felt… maybe, to them, we’re the interfering rascals.

Lu Jinghe: They even said “We’ve got a large parrot-tail fairy flower field in Imana Forest, and I guarantee that supply will be sufficient”…

Lu Jinghe: If I didn’t learn about the parrot-tail fairy flower situation in advance, I definitely would’ve thought that this is a medicinal herb panacea that’s always ready in the households of the indigenous.

MC: Maybe they truly believe that the flowers they’ve planted are the “parrot-tail fairy flowers” that can bring wealth.

Tambuyani’s economy was undeveloped, and the gap between the rich and poor was significant.

The indigenous people were mostly simple and pure. If they were to believe that there was something that could bring them greater wealth…

They would simply finish off this matter without considering any consequences.

If so, as we don’t know how many forests would encounter unacceptable disasters, what should we do?

>Mention your own suggestion >Ask for help from Lu Jinghe

MC: Should we go to Imana Rainforest and take a look at the flower field that the indigenous people mentioned?

MC: Just listening to them say these things isn’t enough for us to confirm the situation… we have to see it to believe it.

Lu Jinghe: No problem. Tomorrow, the train is going to drive near the Imana Rainforest tribe. We can look around on the way.

MC: Mhmm, let’s do that for now!

 >Mention your own suggestion >Ask for help from Lu Jinghe

MC: Lu Jinghe, do… you have any ideas?

Lu Jinghe: Let me think… the train will drive near the Imana Rainforest tribe tomorrow…

Lu Jinghe: How about we take a look at what’s up with that flower field that the indigenous people mentioned, on the way?

MC: Sounds reasonable… seeing is believing, after all. Only when we get our hands on the detailed situation can we think up of a way to solve this.

MC: Then tomorrow, we’ll figure things alone the way at the rainforest!

[generallypo]

“I heard your voice, so I came... Aoba-san.”

Hooo-boy, if that doesn’t get me emotional every single time. Call it my bias for eccentric bundles of sunshine and softness, or my crippling weakness for the secretly-handsome-and-devastatingly-earnest type, but you can’t change my mind: Clear is, hands down, DMMD’s best love interest. Character development-wise, thematically, romantically, he nails every trial thrown at him, gets his man,  and proceeds to break your heart in the tenderest, sincerest way possible. I am hopping with Huge Fan Energy, so this post is gonna be unapologetically long and self-indulgent and grossly enthusiastic. Yeeeee.

———— 

Look, DMMD meta analysis has been done to death, I get it. This game is old. But I think it stands as testament to its excellent production that it’s still a game worth revisiting years later — especially during these times when social contact is so hard pressed to come by and we all rabidly devour digital media like a horde of screeching feral gremlins. (Have you seen Netflix’s stock value now? The exploding MMO server populations? Astonishing.) It’s pure, simple human nature to want to connect, to cling to members of our network out of biological imperative and our psychological dependency on each other. As cold and primitive at that sounds, social contact also fulfills us on a higher level: the community is always stronger than the individual; genuine trust begets a mutually supportive relationship of exchange and evolution. People learn from each other, and grow into stronger, wiser, better versions of themselves.

Yeah, I’m being deliberately obtuse about this. Of course I’m talking about Clear. Clear, who is a robot. Clear, who is nearly childlike in his insatiable curiosity regarding the human condition.

And it’s a classic literary tactic, using non-human entities to question the intangible constructs of a concept like ‘humanity’ — think Frankenstein, or Tokyo Ghoul, or Detroit: Become Human, among so, so many works in various media — all tackling that question from countless angles, all with varying measures of success. What does it mean to be human? To be good? Who are we, and where do we stand in the grand scheme of things? Is there even a scheme to follow? … Wait, what?

Jokes aside, there are so many ways that the whole approaching-human-yet-not-quite-there schtick can be abused into edgy, joyless existential griping. Nothing wrong with that if it’s what you’re looking for, except that we’re talking about a boys’ love game here. But DMMD neatly, sweetly side steps that particular wrinkle, giving us a wonderfully grounded character to work with as a result. 

Character Design — a see-through secret

Let’s start small: Clear’s design and premise. Unlike so many other lost, clueless robo-lambs across media, Clear does have a small guiding presence early on in his life. It takes the form of his grandfather, who teaches Clear about the world while also sheltering him from his origins. It means he learns enough to blend sufficiently into society; it also means that Clear has even more questions that sprout from his limited understanding of the world.

Told that he must never remove his mask lest he expose his identity as a non-human, Clear’s perpetual fear of rejection for what he is drives much of his eccentricity and challenges him throughout much of his route. As for the player, the mystery of what lies underneath his mask is a carrot that the writers get to dangle until the peak moment of emotional payoff. Even if it’s not hard to guess that there’s probably a hottie of legendary proportions stuck under there, there’s still significance in waiting for that good moment to happen. And when it does, it feels great.

His upbringing contextualizes and affirms his odd choice of fashion: deliberately generic, bashfully covered from the public eye, and colored nearly in pure white - the quintessential signal of a blank slate, of innocence. Contrasted with the rest of DMMD’s flashy, colorful crew, Clear is probably the most difficult to read on a superficial scale, not falling into the fiery, bare-chest sex appeal of a womanizer, or the techno-nerd rebel aesthetic that Noiz somehow rocks. Goofy weirdo? Possibly a serial killer? Honestly, both seem plausible at the start.

And that’s the funny thing, because as damn hard as he tries to physically cover himself up from society, Clear is irrepressibly true to his name: transparent to a fault. He’s a walking, talking contradiction, and it’s not hard to realize that this mysterious, masked stranger… is really just an open book. By far the most effusive and straightforward of the entire cast, his actions are wildly unconventional and sometimes wholly inexplicable. But given time to explain himself, he is always, always sincere in his intentions — and unlike the rest of the love interests, naturally inclined to offer bits of himself to Aoba. It doesn’t take the entire character arc to figure out his big, bad secret — our main character gets an inkling about halfway through his route — and what’s even better is that he embraces it, understanding that his abilities also allow him to protect what he cherishes: Aoba. 

So what if he doesn’t fit into an easily recognizable box of daydream boyfriend material? He’s contradictory, and contradiction is interesting. Dons a gas mask, but isn’t an edgelord. Blandly dressed, but ridiculously charming. Unreadable and modestly intimidating — until he opens his mouth. Even without the benefit of traversing his route, there’s already so much good stuff to work with, and sure as hell, you’re kept guessing all the way to the end.

Character Development — from reckless devotion into complaisant subservience, complaisant subservience into mutual understanding. And then, of course: free will, and true love. 

At its core, DMMD is about a dude with magic mind-melding powers and his merry band of attractive men with — surprise! — crippling emotional baggage. Each route follows the same pattern, simply remixing the individual character interactions and the pace of the program: Aoba finds himself isolated with the love interest, faces various communication issues varying on the scale of frustrating to downright dangerous, wanders into a sketchy section of Platinum Jail, bonds with the love interest over shared duress, breaks into the Oval Tower, faces mental assault by the big bad — and finally, finally, destroys those internal demons plaguing the love interest, releasing the couple onto the path of a real heart-to-heart conversation. And then, you know, the lovey-dovey stuff. 

Here’s the thing: as far as romantic progression goes, it’s really not a bad structure. There’s room to bump heads, but also to bond. The Scrap scene is a thematically cohesive and clever way to squeeze in the full breadth of character backstory while simultaneously advancing the plot. In this part, Aoba must become the hero to each of his love interests and save them from themselves. Having become privy to each other’s deepest thoughts and reaching a mutual understanding of each other, their feelings afterwards slide much more naturally into romantic territory. They break free of Oval Tower, make their way home, and have hot, emotionally fulfilling sex or otherwise some variation on the last few steps. The end. 

That is, except for Clear. 

Clear’s route is refreshing in that he needs none of these things — the climax of his emotional arc actually comes a little after the halfway point of his route. When Clear’s true origins are revealed, he comes entirely clean to Aoba, fighting against his fear of rejection but also trusting that Aoba will listen. It’s a quiet, vulnerable moment, rather than the action-packed tension we normally experience during a Scrap scene. 

That doesn’t mean it’s prematurely written in — it simply means that he reaches his potential faster than the other characters. Because of that, he’s free to pursue the next level of his route’s development much, much sooner in the timeline: he overcomes his fears of his appearance, he confesses his love to Aoba, he leaves the confines of a largely dubious master-servant relationship and allows himself to be Aoba’s equal. Clear’s sprite art mirrors his emotional transformation all the way through, exposing him to the literal bone — and Aoba’s affection for him doesn’t change a single bit. Beautiful.

The whammy of incredible moments doesn’t just stop there, though. I don’t exactly recall the order the routes DMMD is ideally meant to be played in, but I believe Clear’s is meant to be last. And if you do, I can guarantee that it becomes a hugely delightful gameplay experience — in order to achieve his good ending, you must do absolutely nothing with Scrap. It doesn’t just subvert our player expectations of proactively clicking and interacting with our love interests; it grabs the story by its thematic reins and yanks it all back to the forefront of our scene. 

In every route besides Clear’s, Scrap is a tool used to insert Aoba’s influence into and interfere with his target’s mind. Using his powers of destruction, Aoba is able to prune whatever maligned thoughts are harming his target; in any conventional situation, using Scrap is the right choice. 

But one of the central problems in Clear’s route is his conflict between the impulses of his conditioning and his desire to live freely as a human would. Breaking free of Toue’s programming is what initially made him unique; growing beyond the rules imposed by his grandfather is what makes him human. In the final conflict scene, Clear’s decision to destroy his key-lock is an action of true autonomy, made with perfect understanding of the consequences and a sincere, selflessly selfish desire to protect someone he loves. In order to receive his good end, you have to respect his decision. It doesn’t matter which option you pick — by using Scrap, Aoba turns his back on every positive choice he made with Clear and attempts to exert his authority over him. This is Aoba becoming Toue; this is Aoba trying to reinstate himself as ‘Master’ right as he approved Clear as his equal. That’s blatant hypocrisy, and it doesn’t matter if Aoba is trying to do it for Clear’s ‘own good’ — that’s not Aoba’s call to make. If you truly wish to respect Clear’s free will, you will stand by. This is the truth of the moment: Clear has no emotional blockages that Aoba needs to fix. Believe in him, just as he believed in you.

The path to his heart is, and always has been, clear. Scrap was never needed from the start.

While Aoba might be the main character, Clear is undeniably a hero in his own route just as much. Tirelessly earnest and always curious, he leaps headlong into the unknown and emerges with his newfound enlightenment. He’s unafraid of weathering trials, even to the point of accepting death, and returns anew from oblivion to a sweet, cathartic ending. That’s about as textbook hero’s journey as it gets — if that doesn’t make him unquestionably, certifiably, unconditionally human, then I will scream.

And only finally… there is the free end. The final CG is like a throwback to our first impression of him: indistinct, purposefully obscured from proper view. But this time, we know better — and so does Aoba. Looks were never what mattered in Clear’s route. If you were patient, and you were open-minded, and you listened… well, what we realize now is that Clear was doing the exact same thing for you, too.

From a carefree, aimless robot-man with only the gimmick of “eccentric ditz” to carry him forward, we get a supremely more interesting character by the end: a man who has graduated from the well-intentioned but claustrophobic conditioning of his childhood; a weapon who has defied the imperatives placed on him by his creator’s programming; a wanderer who has, through unconditional patience and empathy, discovered love, and striven to become a better person for it. Who was it that ever doubted Clear’s character? He’s the goddamn goodest boy that ever wanted to be a real boy. Of course Clear is human. And in fact, he does it better than every single one of the actually human love interests. You can’t change my mind.

The Romance — kindness is really fucking attractive, okay.

Like I’ve said earlier, I have my Big Fan Blinds stuck on pretty tight. I might be conjuring sparks from thin air. But I think every choice was a deliberate creative decision on the writers’ part, and they deserve all the kudos for it — I’m just the lucky player who gets to enjoy it. But aside from Noiz (who I also think is a perfect darling as well — I could go on and on about him), Clear’s route is a model example for consent and healthy relationships in VN storytelling. This is reciprocated on both sides: never does Aoba infringe on Clear’s boundaries, and neither does Clear. They’re sensitive to each other’s needs and concerns; they ask for permission and stop when it isn’t granted (and when it is, boy do they get frisky — I’m not complaining!) I don’t need to say much more, because I think that consent is both fantastic and yes, incredibly hot (the scene in DMMD is tons more sad, go play Re:connect!). Good writing shows off the massive erotic potential enthusiastic consent puts into intimacy, and Aoba’s and Clear’s relationship is honestly a dream playground. The point is, I think Aoba and Clear genuinely do find equal balance in their relationship by the end of his route (and certainly through Re:connect). If you follow through Re:connect’s storyline, there’s even more thematic richness that comes through in the form of Clear’s greatest asset: communication. The couple get to discuss the long-term implications of them being together; they both offer concerns, points, and assurances to the other, and it’s just a soft, honest moment not so unlike the worries of a real relationship. Hearing is kind of Clear’s motif sense, but it’s really great to see that Aoba also subtly picks it up, really flexes his own communication skills to better engage with Clear. 

Point is, Clear’s route spoke to me on a lot of little levels. Design-wise, he’s already got a ton going for him, and his story builds upon it rather than against it, enriching his development and grounding him a little more solidly in the DMMD universe (and in my heart). His route, aside from being emotionally ruinous, carries a pretty solid chunk of world-building (only beaten out by Mink’s and Ren’s, probably), and the romance feels organic, healthy, and realistic. He’s not the only one with an excellent route, but he’s my favorite. If you read through all of this, you’re a real trooper and I’m extremely impressed. Thanks for tuning in. Peace.

[vagrantblvrd]

Random FAHC scenario where Gavin and Fiona meet up in the Europes before joining the FAHC AU and it’s like.

Gavin is this Cool Hacker and Fiona’s just...Fiona? Like. Fighty, but also a horribly human being/kindred spirit with Gavin and they’re like :DDDDDDDDDDDD when they realize they’re horrible human beings?

Sniper buddies on the side, too, because of course.

And they pal around for a while until there’s this Shiny they want to steal because reasons, only it’s been confiscated as evidence or is just taking up a place of pride somewhere with ridiculous amounts of security around it and they’d need all these resources and the whatnot they don’t have access to.

But then they’re vegetating somewhere and watching tv shows and on comes some detective show with the police consultant who is Super Sleuth not unlike Sherlock Holmes and they’re rolling their eyes because wow, terrible writing and worse execution of premise and the acting.

But.

It percolates in their brains for a while until they thing about the Shiny again and one of them is like “Hey, remember that asshole from that show?”

Because police consultant and such, privy to all kinds of things other people aren’t and somehow that translates in a Brilliant Idea of them pulling a Brilliant Plan.

One in which Gavin (because British) plays the Super Sleuth with Fiona as his assistant.

(The thing where she’s younger and, you know, a woman, which hahaha, the police/authorities they’re planning to fuck with are horrible mysoginists and it works to their advantage.)

ANYWAY.

It’s a long play, this plan of theirs in which they wow the cops with Gavin’s Super Sleuth-ness, which is just him and Fiona with the computer hacking and intel gathering and also, maybe, paying off some randos to help make them look like totally legit Super Sleuth and Assistant looking to become police consultants and so on.

Gain trust and respect and all this, and working their way to getting better access to the Shiny.

Actually put some legit criminal-types behind bars, naturally making new and exciting enemies along the way. Said criminal-types were real scumbags or potential hindrances or something along those lines.

After however long they manage to steal the Shiny and the police never figure out it’s them behind it?

But England/Europe is dangerous for them with the enemies they made or maybe they’re just bored of it or there’s a new Shiny for them in America, so!

Off to America they go, leaning hard on the Super Sleuth thing they’ve got going and work their way towards Los Santos building up this reputation for themselves as they go?

Like.

Minor celebrities kind of thing while stealing all the Shiniies that catch their eye along the way.

And then Los Santos, right?

Not exactly ideal for their shenanigans in which the cops don’t want people like them sniffing out all the corruption and the whatnot, but there’s this big Thing, some special Shiny and its owner has heard ever so much about the two of them.

Wants them helping keep it secure and all that - which, okay??? - and they’re like okay???

Plan to steal the Shiny and make a run for it before anyone catches on?

But the night of the big gala/party whatever where it’s meant to be on display there are all these suspicious characters wandering around.

Gavin flirting with this one guy who waltzes up to him at the refreshment table, all southern charm and pretty blue eyes and such a gentleman?

Fiona’s off to the side like jfc, just bone already because it’s ridiculous?

And then!

The power cuts out and when the lights come back on the Shiny is missing!!1!

The owner of the Shiny lets out this shriek and ~faints and it’s up to Gavin and Fiona to Super Sleuth who the culprit is?

ALSO.

This totally takes place on a  cruise ship because of course it does and is basically Clue but on a big, big boat. (I know, I know, ship, but whatever.)

Gavin and Fiona are joined by Mystery Blonde Man (whoever could it be, I wonder???) as they Super Sleuth their way along.

Occasionally there’s a Murder (defs mysterious circumstances) and More Tension!!!1!

Paranoia as party-goers suspect the person next to them of being the murdered and petty disagreements and such coming to light (Also confessions of adultery and bribery and just waaaaay too much Drama for anyone’s comfort? AND YET.)

Gavin and Fiona are like jfc because this is NOT what they signed up for when they came up with this farce of a con way back when?

Because of course there are the moments in which Gavin is Investigating - alone, because seperated in the dark - and gets attacked and knocked unconscious and Mystery Blonde Man is the one to discover him, because of course he does.

(And of course there’s that moment of Staring Into One Antoher’s Eyes and Unguarded Thoughts and Fiona standing right the fuck there, you assholes, Christ.)

ANYWAY.

Shenanigans (and light murder) until Gavin figures it out.

Realizes Mystery Blonde Man was behind it the whole time along with his associates. The bald bastard posing as a waiter, and the crewman with the Jersey accent and the Flashback Of Realization as Mystery Blonde Man pulls a gun on Gavin and Fiona and does the rueful apology thing because he really did like Gavin, you know?

Meanwhile Gavin is holding Fiona back from going for the asshole’s throat, or really, his ankles because she’s goddamned vindictive like that, and trying to make it look like he’s not? (Because Assistant!Fiona is sweet like angel and would never, you know?)

Maybe one of the security guards runs up to stop Mystery Blonde Man from absconding with the Shiny and about to shoot him?

And Gavin, like the idiot he is, jumps in the way to take the bullet for him.

(Because kevlar vest under his tuxedo and all the way Fiona’s wearing one under her ensemble - gorgeous dress or incredible tux of her own, idk both work great for me.)

 Mystery Blond Man is like :O!!11! because he doesn’t know about the kevlar vest thing and Gavin’s not moving (because he still got shot and that hurts like a mofo and also Drama and Angst) but it’s too dangerous to stick around so he escapes along with his associates not realizing Gavin’s going to be fine?

AND THEN.

Gavin and Fiona are still in the LSPD’s good books, not to mention the city at large and don’t know what to do about it just yet?

BUT.

Gavin’s Intrigued about Mystery Blonde Man and his associates and does his hackery mcgic while Fiona goes out to gather what intel she can from their contacts.

AND THEN.

Gavin goes out to some bar somewhere one night, dressed like the horrible little hacker gremlin he is in regular street clothes and sits down at this table in a darkened corner?

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks, because someone’s been sitting at the same table for a bit now.

Big, scary looking bastard in a leather jacket and ridiculous skull mask. (This close, Gavin can make out what looks like face paint under it??? Something like that anyway.)

Ryan, because of course it’s Ryan, freezes.

About to take a drink of his diet soda and sets it down slowly because reports about what happened on the cruise ship were way confused/conflicting and he thought Gavin died, you know?

Was out of town on a job for Geoff and the crew when the corrections were made and no one thought/knew to tell him because he’s kind of dumb about that shit and just bottled everything up, insisted on working through it. (Also, he barely knew Gavin and they were on opposite sides anyway and just. A whole slew of excuses.)

Gavin of course, doesn’t know any of that, just blithely goes on and on about the weather and the shitty band playing on stages. Kids looking to make it big and desperate for it and not really good but not terrible either, just. You know how it is.

And then he switches tracks, brings up the Shiny and the cruise ship and this whole Super Sleuth deal he put together afterwards.

Hackery magic and Fiona’s intel and the two of them with a murder board figuring everything out?

“Should ahve expected the Fake AH Crew wouldn’t be able to pass it by,” he says, referring to the Shiny, while Ryan’s just !!! because what is going on right now?

Worried he might have to kill Gavin now since he knows who Ryan is and all that? (Lol, try to, or at least look like he’s trying to, because FEELS)

And then Gavin gets onto the bit where he reveals the thing where he and Fiona are totally criminals in their own right.

Big deal, that, because it could blow up in his and Fiona’s faces so badly? But Fiona was tired of him moping around because of Mystery Blonde Man/Vagabond/Ryan and was like.

“Fucking tell him, what the hell do I care?”

So Gavin seeking Ryan out and this whole Thing and Ryan being so, so confused?

Like.

Why is Gavin telling him all this? (Why did he bother to track him down and such?)

And Gavin’s just like.

Looking at Ryan’s drink where the ice is all melted with the whole exposition dump that happened taking a bit and all.

“I’d like to buy you a drink, if you don’t object?”

At which point Ryan realizes Gavin has gone super nervous and awkward and it takes him another moment or two to realize why?

Because FEELS and weird date experience? But also criminals and weird everything anyway, and he’s just.

This little smile (because awkward nerdface) and says that would be nice, but maybe not here? If Gavin’s hungry he knows a decent place not too far away and they can get something to eat, and anyway, anyway, awkward dorks and their first date???

Which of course turns into more, with Fiona giving Gavin so much shit for his smushy feelings for Ryan???

The two of them keeping their Super Sleuth and Assistant con going and stealing Shinies here and there.

And then!

Some shenanigans in which members of the crew get caught, arrested, and taken to whatever precinct Gavin and Fiona are in good with?

Gavin and Fiona being like oh, shit when they see the Vagabond and whoever paraded past them headed to the holding cells?

Realizing nothing good can come of this because of course not, and then overhear some cops talking about planning an accident to make sure the Vagabond and whoever else is in there don’t make it to the morning?

So of course they have to break them out, almost certainly burning their Super Sleuth con in the progress, but that’s not important because FEELS? Also right thing to do, so!

They finagle their way to get access to Ryan and whoever and run into this FIB agent.

Stern woman who is all HMM when she meets them and gives them ALL the shit because of course she does.

Total asshole and Gavin is like :) and trying not to snap - Fiona is weirdly quiet about it, but whatever.

The FIB agent trying get Ryan and whoever transferred to FIB custody, but pissing contest with the LSPD and Gavin and Fiona planning a jailbreak?

FIB agent and her partner/team marching the Vagabond and whoever out through the parking garage and Gavin and Fiona about to break out the jailbreak plan, only for FIB agent to be like,

“You owe me, assholes, so fucking much,” as she unlocks the cuffs on Ryan and whoever because of coruse it’s Lindsay, you know?

Either running her own long play of being an FIB agent or just this one-time production, who knows, and Gavin and Fiona are like???

Because they kind of stumble into it, all ready with guns out and the like and Lindsay is like, “Took you guys long enough,” :DDDDDDDDDDD when she sees them, and idk, I’m losing the thread here yet again.

All of them having ot escape when the cops come down to try one more round of being assholes about things? But uh, wow, ALL the criminals and just a lot of yelling and shooting and Daring Escapes.

Gavin and Fiona being like shit because they just burned the Super Sleuth con for basically nothing? (Don’t regret the intent behind it? But wow, what a waste?)

Lindsay’s just :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD because the crew could use people like them, and what do they say to a trial run with these assholes of hers?

(Ryan is trying not to be all hearteyes over the realization of what Gavin and Fiona did for him and whoever, and failing miserably because Ryan.)

Gavin and Fiona agree to the trial run, and it’s kind of great because ALL the assholes like them and fun criminal activities?

Also, bonus for Gavin in which he makes Ryan’s life the absolute worst? (But in a loving manner, and vice versa.)

Fiona is totes hearteyes over Lindsay because why wouldn’t she be?

Michael is off to the side like , jfc, because that asshole Gavin, but also that asshole Fiona and goddammit, what is with this city?

Geoff is like oh, God, now there are more of you assholes???

And then shenanigans, I guess, idk anymore.

[ltleflrt]

Hnnngh *bites lip* so hard to choose. Dragon/Wedding planner AU for your prompts game? I‘ve loved all of the ficlets that came out of this so far!

I fracking love this prompt, thank you :D

“This isn’t even my wedding, how did I get roped into this?”

Sam casts Dean an unimpressed look as he opens the door to the meeting room and gestures for Dean to precede him inside.  “There’s more to being the best man than planning the bachelor party, Dean.”

“Since when?” he demands, just to be stubborn.  He doesn’t really have a problem helping out with anything Sam and Eileen need, it’s just weird to him that they’d hire someone to do all the hard work for them, and still need Dean’s input on stuff.

Sam’s answer is lost to him when Dean’s eyes fall on the room’s stupidly sexy occupant.  His feet glue themselves to the floor, and it takes a nudge from Sam to get moving again.

“Hello, Castiel,” Sam says brightly as he crosses the meeting room.  “Thank you for coming here to meet us today.”

“It is my pleasure, of course.” The man–he’s certainly male, if not human–smiles graciously as he accepts Sam’s hand to shake.

Dean’s eyebrows feel like they’re trying to launch themselves into his hair.

Touching a Phoenix is an invitation for third degree burns, but Castiel doesn’t even flinch as his hand is engulfed in Sam’s much larger grip.

“Castiel, this is my brother Dean,” Sam says, gesturing for Dean to come closer.  He casts Dean a look that says get over here idiot, which works because Dean’s on auto pilot.  “He’s going to be helping out when Eileen and I are unavailable.”

It’s been trained into him since birth not to touch anyone.  His nature as a Phoenix puts most creatures in danger of burns from standing too close, much less initiating skin to skin contact.  So it’s a surreal experience to feel a hand that doesn’t belong to someone of his own species slide against his own.  His fingers brush the edge of a cool scale and it sends a shiver up his arm.

Flame-blue eyes stare up at him, and Dean’s brain experiences a mild short circuit when Castiel smiles at him.  “Hello, Dean.”

“You’re a dragon,” Dean blurts.

When Castiel laughs, his whole body gets in on the motion.  The wings draped over his shoulders flutter, and his tail whips left to right.  The sunlight pouring in through the wall of windows lining one side of the meeting room glints off the iridescent scales along his neck and hairline.  “I believe I am, yes.”

Dean blinks and shakes his head.  Castiel’s voice is like thick smoke, and it’s going straight to his pleasure centers.  He needs to get a grip on himself before he does something really embarrassing.  He pastes on a charming smile.  “Sorry. I’ve never met a dragon before.”

“And I’ve met very few Phoenixes,” Castiel counters with a teasing smile.  “My people do prefer the view from their mountain tops, but I find that sometimes the rest of the world holds much more pleasurable views.”  His eyes trail down Dean’s body, lingering on their clasped hands, before coming back up to lock their gazes together again.

Is that a flirtation?

Dean hopes it’s a flirtation.

Sam ruins the moment by clearing his throat.  “Eileen’s sorry she couldn’t be here today.  She’s needed in Oberon’s court.”

“I understand.”  Castiel turns his attention to Sam, a professional facade coming down over his expression as he releases Dean’s hand.  “She’s a very busy woman, and I’m here to take as much stress and work off her shoulders as possible.”

Dean misses Castiel’s touch as soon as it slips away.  But he’s suddenly looking forward to all his extra Best Man duties.

***

As ambassador to the land of the Fae, Sam is a pretty busy guy, and his engagement to Eileen, a high ranking member of Oberon’s court, means even more rounds of social events.  So Dean ends up doing a lot more of the work on getting the wedding set up than he expected.  And that means spending a lot more time with Castiel than the bride and groom do.  

Which, to be completely fucking honest, is awesome.

Castiel insists on meeting in person often, sometimes multiple times a week.  And it isn’t always to visit bakeries and flower shops.  They spend an equal number of meetings in coffee shops, or cozy restaurants, with Castiel’s binders open on the table between them to keep up the appearance that what they’re doing isn’t dating.

Because it hasn’t been said out loud yet, but Dean’s pretty sure that’s what this is.  Why else would their discussions veer from business to personal so often?  Why else would Castiel touch him whenever he can, like he can’t help himself?

Dean could be way off base.  Maybe dragons are touchy-feely by nature.  It’s completely possible that Castiel is always staring at Dean’s lips because he’s hard of hearing.  Eileen stares at Dean’s mouth all the time, and it certainly isn’t because she wants to jump his bones.  And the intense eye contact when Dean’s not speaking?  Well that could just be Dean projecting.  Eye contact is normal, right?  It’s not all eye fucking.

It certainly feels like eye-fucking though.

He could ask.  Hey, Cas.  Is this thing between us all in my head?  Maybe write him a note, and ask him to check yes or no if he likes Dean the way Dean likes him.

Or he can continue to be chicken shit about it, and just bask in Castiel’s presence.  Treasure every look, every gentle slide of Castiel’s fingers against his hand or his arm.  Soak in the cooling relief of his presence, because Castiel probably doesn’t understand the concept of Personal Space, and isn’t standing shoulder to shoulder with Dean in the print shop because he craves that contact as well.

Over the months they gravitate closer and closer.

Dean never asks why.

***

Never in his life has Dean seen a wedding so beautiful.  

Sam and Eileen stand together under an arch of orange and yellow irises.  Bonfires flank the raised dais, and torches line the aisles.  Light and shadow from all the flames dance across Eileen’s flowing white dress, making her appear to be bathed in her own fire.  Both the bride and groom are displaying their wings proudly, Eileen’s sheer and rainbow shimmery, Sam’s fiery feathers arched over his shoulders.  Only clever spell work keep them from sparking fire in his clothing and the nearby flowers.  And Eileen’s fairy blood protects her from Sam’s burning touch.

The priestess bonds them together with a rope of pure gold wrapped loosely around their clasped hands.  She repeats the sacred ritual in three languages, including sign.  And when she announces them Bound, the torches and the bonfires roar higher, adding more noise to the cheering of the gathered crowd.  

Petals from orange roses are tossed over the wedded couple’s heads as they turn to their guests, and raise their tied hands up high to display them to everyone present.  

Dean’s vision blurs, maybe from tears, maybe from the heat haze of so much open flame.

After the ceremony it’s hours before Dean gets a moment to himself.  He sneaks away as soon as he finishes his Best Man speech, to a quiet corner of the palace gardens.  The marble bench he finds is cool, and the gentle breeze rustling the surrounding bushes is refreshing on his cheeks.  Even as a creature of fire, it feels good to get away from the hot press of bodies packed into one place.  

And out here, he doesn’t have to pull himself in tight to prevent brushing too close to someone who might suffer injury on contact with his skin.  He lets his head fall back on his shoulders and looks up into the starry sky, smiling at the unfamiliar constellations of the Fae realm.  With a sigh and a slight relaxation of his concentration, he lets his wings slip free.

He can’t spread them, for fear of setting the garden on fire, but having them out in the open is relief enough.

“Lovely.”

Dean’s wings flinch, but before he can slip them away, Castiel stops him with a touch to his shoulder.

“No, don’t,” Castiel murmurs.  “Your flame poses no danger to me.”

Dean looks up at the dragon, and thinks the reflected gleam of his wings in Castiel’s eyes is far more beautiful than the stars.  “Uh thanks.  They were getting a little cramped.”

Castiel flares his own wings slightly.  “I can imagine how uncomfortable that gets.”

Of course he does.  As a dragon, Castiel is squeezing his whole body into a smaller form, not just hiding his wings.  

“Yeah it’s not the greatest.” Dean slides over on the bench to give Castiel space.  “Join me?”

His heart thumps almost painfully behind his ribs when Castiel accepts his invitation and settles on the stone seat.  Even though Castiel is safe, Dean still pulls his wings away out of habit.

Castiel notices the gesture and smiles gently.  He lifts a hand, but hesitates.  “May I?”

Among his own kind, touching wings is an intimate gesture.  Most people of other species would start to feel the burn before even getting close enough.  Phoenixes aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, and Dean’s a little too rough around the edges to attract a mate from the Fae, so it’s been many years since he’s felt another’s touch in his feathers.

The urge to allow it is overwhelming.  Only a lifetime of discipline keeps him from shoving his wing right into Castiel’s waiting hand.  But his feathers ruffle up with anticipation anyway.  

Unable to speak around his heart in his throat, Dean nods.

Castiel’s fingers sink into Dean’s flaming feathers, and they both let out a sigh.  Dean in utter satisfaction, and Castiel in what looks like wonder.

The yellow flames turn the iridescent blue scales lining the back of Castiel’s hand a deep metallic green.  He strokes through the feathers, threading them between his fingers, and Dean can’t help pressing his into the touch.

“Lovely,” Castiel says again, low and soft, smoke rising from embers.

Dean loses track of time as Castiel gently grooms the areas he can reach.  His eyes nearly slip closed in pleasure, but he can’t look away from the awe gracing Castiel’s features, so he watches the dragon through drooping lids.

“You know,” Castiel says after a long silence broken only by the soft crackle of Dean’s flames.  “Now that my work for your brother and new sister is completed, I’ll be visiting other realms for new contracts.”

Dean’s feathers dim with his disappointment.  “So, I guess this is probably goodbye then?”

Castiel’s eyes flit from Dean’s wing, to lock on Dean’s gaze.  “I was hoping that we could continue our relationship without the barrier of professionalism.  If you don’t mind that I have to travel a lot for work.”

It takes everything Dean has not to burst into a pillar of flame.  He manages to keep his excitement contained to a grin, and maybe a little extra heat under his skin.  His clothes stay intact, even if he does catch a whiff of hot wool.  Thank the gods for whoever invented spells for fireproofing.  “I don’t mind at all, Cas.” He flutters his wings.  “It’s not like I don’t have means of traveling to see you.”

Castiel’s smile is brighter than a flame.  “I’m very happy to hear that.”

“Can I kiss you, Cas?” Dean blurts.

He receives his answer as a soft press of lips against his own.  The kiss is gentle, almost chaste, but it’s more than Dean usually dares to hope for.  

Dean doesn’t know what his face is doing when Castiel pulls back, but it’s probably something goofy and love-struck.  “That was awesome.”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees.

And then they kiss again.  And again.  They kiss and touch and murmur endearments to each other under the rotating stars, until edge of the sky begins to fade from black to blue and the stars blink out of view.

[fy-kimjihun]

In Conversation with KNK, a South Korean Idol Group

KNK, a South Korean idol group, first saw the light of day in 2016 when they debuted on the domestic market. They relatively quickly made a name for themselves with their mature and serious looks, music and gentlemen attires. In 2017, a huge crowd welcomed their performance at the Feel Korea concert in London and even then, KNK showed potential to stand the test of time as long as they kept their future performances at the same level.

After the departure of You-jin, an immense vocal talent, the group welcomed Dong-won, a rapper who added his own charm to KNK; the group now consists of him, Ji-hun, In-song, Seo-ham, and Hee-jun. After successful performances in the US, KNK are now about to embark on their 1st European Tour called Sunrise, which will include 6 cities: Berlin, Warsaw, London, Lisbon, Madrid and Paris. KNK will play the O2 Academy Islington in London on August 18th. Tickets are now available to purchase via Ticketmaster and Ticketweb.

Ahead of KNK’s European Tour Sunrise, we caught up with the group and chatted about K-pop, their newest release KNK S/S Collection and life in general.

2016 was the year you officially debuted. Prior to your debut, you obviously trained to enter music industry, but was it your dream to become a part of a boy group?

Ji-hun: Yes. I wanted to become a ballad singer when I was a student, but afterwards I became determined to be a dancer as well as a singer.

In-seong: Yes. I am so happy to make my dream come true.

Seoham: Yes. As I started practicing as a trainee, I really wanted to debut as a singer, so I practiced hard to achieve my dream.

Dong-won: As you know, I became a new member of KNK in 2019. I always had a dream in my heart of becoming a singer, since I was a student, but I didn’t have any chance to do it, so I was in fact preparing to become an actor. Fortunately, thanks to KNK members who called me to be a part of the group, I was able to make my debut as a singer.

Hee-jun: Actually, I wanted to be a football player.

Your most recent album [KNK S/S COLLECTION] was just released. What was the creative process behind it and – as your lyrics are in Korean – would you mind telling our readers which themes your songs represent the most?

Ji-hun: This time, we tried for new sounds – compared to our previous songs – and we will keep working hard to make good songs in the future.

In-seong: For our new album, we tried for a dynamic and exciting concept which is reflected in the music. When you listen to it, it’s like being in a fashion show.

Seoham: Visually, it’s a new concept that we hadn’t tried before: KNK members as fashion models. The lyrics, however, tell the story of a man in love.

Hee-jun: Also, we wanted to express love and melancholy through the colours used in the music video – like the feelings you have when someone leaves.

What were your feelings when preparing for this video (SUNSET)?

Ji-hun: In my case, when we were preparing the video for SUNSET, I just wanted to show it to our fans as soon as possible.

In-seong: I remember that although the group dance scene was very hard this time, the on-site atmosphere was really good.

Seoham: The shoot itself was very difficult because there are several scenes that include all of us dancing at the same time, but the shooting session was different from the ones we had done in the past, so it was a lot of fun.

Dong-won: The shooting of my personal scenes took longer than expected, so it was very burdensome at first, but I think I did well. I am getting used to the hard choreographies by now.

Hee-jun: It was exciting because we were able to show different styles of KNK.

Your image comes across as a very mature one, including your music. Are there any other concepts, or certain music, you would like to try out with your future releases?

Ji-hun: I love songs that feature dancing and complex choreographies; however, given the chance, I would like to sing lyrical and moody songs.

In-seong: Vampire concept!

Seoham: I would like to keep exploring trendy music styles like SUNSET since it features a new concept for KNK. Summer-like songs would be great as well!

Dong-won: If I must choose, I want to try hip-hop. Even though I’m not confident enough about my skills just yet, it would be great to try! Also, bright and refreshing music!

Hee-jun: More than trying new concepts or styles, I would like to keep promoting KNK and become the world’s favourite artists!

Is there music you like, which never fails to make you feel good? Who really inspires you as an artist?

Ji-hun: I’ve been listening to Night That Reminds of You by 20 Years of Age a lot lately.

In-seong: Since I’m a singer, I was inspired by VIXX and TVXQ.

Seoham: KARD is the best! Listening to their music gives me energy!

Dong-won: I really like rapper PH-1! He is famous not only as a rapper but as a singer as well. I’ve been listening to him a lot these days.

Hee-jun: I would say that one of the artists who inspires me the most is Coldplay.

What’s the hardest thing about being in a group? As there are five members, there are also five different personalities. How do you make it work as a team?

Ji-hun: Probably, the hardest thing about being in a group like KNK is the choreographies. As we mentioned before, they are very complex and physically demanding. Luckily, since we have very similar personalities, we can get along and overcome the tough moments.

In-seong: I think the most important aspect to consider in order to make a group like KNK work is the understanding of each other’s points of views and personalities.

Seoham: Personally I think there are no difficult moments because being together with all the other members is fun and because we support each other every single day. So, everything works just fine!

Dong-won: Since I am the new member in the group it seems natural to feel lost at times, especially among members who already have quite an impressive teamwork skill. Fortunately, the guys took good care of me as a new member, so I think I was able to get used to KNK’s pace quickly.

Hee-jun: [Referring to Dong-won’s previous answer] I think it’s because we have the same dream as KNK members.

When you are not working, what do you do to get away from it all and relax?

Ji-hun: I really like watching YouTube videos when I have some spare time. I can just spend my day with something to eat and YouTube!!!

In-seong: I usually go fishing. I like games, too!

Seoham: Rather than going out, I prefer to stay at home and have a good rest. There, I enjoy eating delicious food.

Dong-won: My favourite hobby is fishing! Since In-seong also likes it, as he mentioned previously, we go fishing together. In fact, it is not only a hobby, but a way to heal and relax.

Hee-jun: If I’m not sleeping during my free time, I try to do some activities to keep my body active. Just like football or working out.

Which would be your dream collaboration, if you could choose any singer or a group?

Ji-hun: I would love to collaborate with 20 Years of Age and sing a track like Night That Reminds of You.

In-seong: A duet with Jooheon of MONSTA X!

Seoham: KARD!!

Dong-won: I would like to collaborate with PH-1, that’s why he is on my playlist nowadays!

Hee-jun: It would be great to work with Coldplay and Camilla Cabello. I really like them!

K-Pop is huge nowadays, and with various groups (BTS, EXO, BlackPink etc.) pushing through into the foreign markets, how do you feel about your own career abroad?

Ji-hun: I’m so excited about the positioning of K-pop in foreign markets nowadays. Just like BTS, EXO and BlackPink, we want to keep working hard in order to become a popular group everywhere.

In-seong: Me too, I’m so excited. Having the opportunity to meet our Tinkerbells [KNK fandom name] when touring abroad is a great experience. We really want to meet all of our fans in Europe during the next tour.

Seoham: I’ve always wanted to visit different countries. My dream is to have as many concerts as possible and meet more fans all over the world.

Dong-won: I’m so grateful to the fans who are welcoming us from all around the world. We’re always excited when we go on tour overseas. I would like to go to even more cities and meet our fans.

Hee-jun: Since our senior colleagues [referring to more experienced K-pop acts] paved the way for us, we’ll do our best to meet fans expectations wherever we can go!

What’s next for you as a group?

Ji-hun: We will keep working hard to strengthen our music style. Personally, I would like to improve my singing skills in order to become a popular singer not only in Korea, but around the world!

Seoham: What’s ahead of us is an active promotion of our most recent single SUNSET. Also, we are preparing for our upcoming European tour which will start very soon. Right after that, we should start working on our next album.

Dong-won: What’s next for KNK? We will stick together as a group making songs that our fans will love. Many more concerts and why not – perhaps we’ll get the 1st place on one of the Korean music shows. I want to be with the other KNK members and do the music that our fans want. Also, I would love to win the first place on music shows and want to have concerts often!

In-seong: 1st place!

Hee-jun: I want to let everyone know about KNK and I hope people get impressed by our music.

[SOURCE]

[popcultureoverdosed]

Youthful Dystopia of Narutaru

Narutaru was beneficial enough to have been made in an era where deconstruction series was gaining traction. If it were to made now, it'd probably be labeled as edgy without any mention of the actual quality of the story. Notably, the genre being deconstructing is the Mon( Digimon, pokemon, etc) genre. Unlike magical girl and mecha shows of today, Mon anime are still generally fluffy and childish so a darker take on the genre was definitely in order.

To give a little backdrop on the creator Mohiro Kitoh, he's pretty much a nihilist that rivals gen urubuchi in cruelty. His other works include a giant robot that steals the life force of children to destroy the multiverse and a psychic teen whom mass murders anyone who drives irresponsibly. He's that type of guy.

The main appeal of the story comes from the interactions between the children and their shadow dragons, rather than actual plot progression. Shadow dragons are mysterious creatures who bond to the characters with a psychic link, sharing their pain and inner thoughts. The names of the shadow dragons are often reflective of their user's psychology. For example, Norio's dragon is Vagina dentata representing his feminine appearance and inability to become intimate with the man he loves.

Our first real look into the world of Narutaru comes in the form of Tomonori Komori. The first few chapters spend time lolly gaging and establishing a vaguely foreboding mood, but, Komori establishes how this world operates. He a textbook level sociopath. A charming young boy who is revered by those in his neighborhood. All that charm is simply a facade he puts on to hide his true sinister views. He wants a Darwinistic world where all of the educated and well to do members of society are killed off, leaving the world in a survival of the fittest state. " Those who are weak and can't fend for themselves deserve to die," he says despite having a sick mother to take care of. He's ironically killed off by hoshimaru, one of the weaker dragons.

Komori is far from the only disturbed child in the series. The children have few qualms with murder and treat it casually. What sets this mon series from those of the same genre is that it treats its children character like actual humans. They aren't saints who only use their abilities for good. They're selfish and use these dragons to suit their own needs. It seems that being psychologically damaged is a requirement for having a dragon. Even upbeat Shiina has her hang-ups about her identity. This theory of trauma giving birth to shadow dragons is more or less confirmed with Hiroko.

She's a shy girl who's constant physical and emotional abuse from her bullies and parents allow her to awaken Oni. Her parents are representative of a common problem in Asian society. They only value their daughter for her academic status and chide her for being anything less than perfect. Her bullies torment her for being too smart and standing out during class. Both parties have opposite reasons for hating Hiroko, but, they both wish to strip away her individuality and turn her into a submissive slave of society. Awakening her shadow dragon allows Hiroko to finally get revenge on her tormentors, even if it means becoming a serial killer in the process.

The manga is definitely a character-driven tale that dwells deep into the psyche of highly disturbed children. You have Akira who has depression and suicidal tendencies, Aki Honda who raped a girl with a test tube and the girl in question who snaps and goes in a killing spree. You could say that all of this bleakness is a bit too much but honestly, it felt refreshing. Mon series are generally really cheesy with bland one-note characters and a story that only exists to sell merchandise. Narutaru breaks the mold and presents characters who are multi-faceted and lifelike. Contrary to popular belief, children aren't always innocent and they can be just as cruel as adults.

One major gripe I have with the manga is the art. Mohiro sure can write but his art isn't winning any awards, that's for sure. Character designs are bland and minimalist. I admit the military paraphernalia is drawn in extensive detail and the dragons have cool designs but that's about it. Other manga artists can do sketchy manga art perfectly but Mohiro isn't one of them.

I also wasn't too particularly fond of the second half of the manga. It drops elements of deconstruction and character drama to replace it with military affairs. I understand the writer is a military nut but having chapters littered with walls of text of JSDF members reacting to the shadow dragon was just so tedious. It would've been better if the plot focused solely on the children and how their actions affect their environment. The second half of the manga lost what made Narutaru so special. It started as a character study of how immature kids react to newfound power only for the story to get Monopolized by adults. some characters like Mamiko Kuri, Norio Koga, and sudo desperately needed more screentime and character development. Mamiko is the worst offender as she only exists to be overtly cryptic until the final volumes.

I highly recommend anyone curious to please read the manga. It's ultimately a story of children thrown into an adult world of violence with little room to grow up. It's a thought-provoking social commentary on the nature of humans and how far their cruelty can go. There's an anime adaptation that isn't as good but is still a fun watch. Even if it's unlikely I'd to see the anime get a remake with a bigger budget and completely adapt the manga. If it did get a remake, here's whom I'd want to work on it:

Studio Mappa/ Geno studio- They seem more willing than other studios to work on nontraditional anime. They also tend to have high production values, something the Narutaru anime desperately needed. Producer twin engine would probably need to be involved

Sadyuki Murai(scriptwriter)- His work on boogiepop Phantom and Juuni Taisen has shown he excels at character drama and psychological thrillers. His style would work perfectly with the narrative and maybe even give the side characters some much-needed development. Taku Kishimoto would be my second choice

Takahiro Kishida( Character designer)- He has a sketchy and rough art style that can perfectly encapsulate the feel of the manga. I'm sure he'd improve on the demure character designs and make them more dynamite.

Takahiro Omari( Director)- He directed Durarara and Baccano which tells me he knows how to work with an ensemble cast. He also directed Hell girl, which had heavy social commentary poised at Japanese society, something Kitoh would love.

Yugo Kanno(Composer)- This guy knows how to how to Composer dark and suspenseful tracks that can amplify the intensity of the manga.

Be sure to check out these two other blogs that went far more in-depth than I ever could.

https://hanagasaitayo.wordpress.com/2019/08/05/analysis-narutaru-mukuro-naru-hoshi-tama-taru-ko/

https://manymanytoes.wordpress.com/2018/10/17/narutaru-shadow-star/

[edelgoth]

Hi! I'd love to be sorted into a house! It might be difficult tho because I have DID so I'm quite multi-faceted. Since I'm the host and out the most I'll just list my traits. I am diligent, good with managing people and projects (as I've always been used to it), but also quite reclusive but will respond to food and games. Sweet and cute, with an angelic voice (so I'm told). I can be a bit mischievous and silly. But usually reliable and dependable. I love animals and am quite the cat whisperer.

thank you for your patience!! pls lend me your ability to manage things fdsjlkdfs

i would place you in… 

the black eagles!!

i’ll be honest, you were very difficult to place in a house!! i think you’d fit into all three houses quite well, and you’d have good chemistry with many of the students. but your balance between the fun and more responsible sides of your personality strike me as quite black eagles?? you also share traits with quite a few of them, which makes me think you’d fit in quite well. and, as you’ll see as you read on, i think you’d have some delightful friendships with a lot of them, too!!

edelgard: first and foremost, edelgard would admire your diligence. edelgard likes hard-working people, and that sounds a lot like you. she also admires how well you manage people and projects; knowing she can trust you with your duties is a big relief. she may struggle to comprehend your sillier, more mischievous side, finding it to be in direct contrast to how she tends to think of you. she may also contend with your reclusiveness, and reluctantly relies on food to coax you out into the world (that was after finding out that straight demands won’t work). also, i’m pretty sure she’s a cat lover, so she’s quite grateful that you’re so good with them. it makes them easier to charm over and pet. 

hubert: you’ve got very different vibes. but, similarly to edelgard, i think he’d appreciate having you around because you’re good at what you do. you’d work well together, and hubert knows what he can trust you to handle. i feel like you two would be unintentionally hilarious; there’s a strong contrast in your personalities that ripe with comedic potential (i say this, believing that the bernadetta-hubert supports are some of the funniest in the game). overall, i think you’d have a good “working relationship”, if that makes sense?? 

ferdinand: the term ‘choir buddies’ popped into my head when i thought about you two. once he finds out that you have an angelic voice, he is dragging you along to practice no matter what. that being said, i think the two of you would have a surprisingly close friendship. like edelgard, ferdinand admires people who apply themselves, and therefore he’d be impressed by you. at the same time, he just finds you so cute; sweet and silly, while also a dependable ally?? it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat. am i saying he’d have a crush on you?? it’s hard to say, and i think that would depend on how you interacted with him – if it was obvious you weren’t interested, the thought likely wouldn’t cross his mind. at the end of the day, he just finds you to be an immensely likable and respectable person. 

bernadetta: i think you two would be best friends!! you get what it’s like to be reclusive, and bernadetta needs someone to take that seriously. at the same time, you might be able to help her feel more comfortable with putting herself out there; with your help and guidance, she just might be able to tackle the outside world. at the same time, i think she’d enjoy being friends with someone who’s sweet, cute and silly; it’s such a difference from what she’s used to. i think she’d also feel quite comfortable in your friendship because of how dependable you are – bernadetta wants to let her guard down around someone, to feel safe and understood. you’re that person!! you can be recluses together, or you can face the world together – and i think that makes for a precious friendship. 

dorothea: she would find you adorable!! i feel like dorothea would be drawn to sweet, cute people, and you’re no exception; she just finds that sort of temperament refreshing to be around. she loves your voice, and she’s always trying to get you to join choir or do performances with her (although, in a much calmer way than ferdinand). she also loves your mischievous and silly side; it’s a nice reprieve from the nobles, after all. she also admires how reliable you are, making you someone she feels comfortable coming to for support and help. and, of course, she’s willing to offer the very same to you. dorothea’s a very loyal friend once she knows she loves someone, and you two would be as thick as thieves. overall, dorothea is just deeply fond of you, and you’d be one of her favourite people to spend time with. 

petra: i think you two would get along really well!! like you, petra is diligent, reliable and dependable, and you’d probably work quite well together. you’d probably be a bit of a dream-team whenever you were paired up to complete a mission or task. i feel like petra would always be finding ways to draw you out of your seclusion (much like in her paralogue with bernadetta), and always seems to be coming up with new and interesting ways to do so. i get the feeling that petra would enjoy your more mischievous side, too, and is capable of being quite silly herself when the occasion calls for it. also, a little friendship trio of you, petra and dorothea might just be too wholesome to handle. 

lindhardt: he might find you a bit baffling, to be quite honest. he only applies himself to things that he’s interested in, so seeing you be diligent and dependable just doesn’t make sense to him. he might “rebel” a bit if you try managing him, but he’s comfortable in the knowledge that he can rely on you to cover his back if he needs you to. he does enjoy seeing someone pull tricks on caspar (i’ll expound on that later), but i do see you more as good friends than close ones. 

caspar: i think you two would have a fun contrast!! where you’re reclusive and cute, he’s loud and brusque. but at the same time, you’re both diligent and capable of being silly. i get the feeling you might fun it fun to “trick” caspar every now and then; he’s lovably dense, which just seems like it could be a field-day for someone more mischievous. on top of that, i think caspar’s the sort who’d enjoy a bit of mischief, and your other house members need to be mindful to watch their backs. but on the other hand, you might be able to help him get in order when the time calls for it due to your management skills, and the rest of the black eagles are grateful for that. overall, i think you’d be great friends, and you would have a lot of fun together!!   

other notable connections 

flayn: you two would have the cutest friendship!! flayn primarily appeals to your sweet, cute, mischievous side; flayn herself is all those things, and it makes your friendship feel quite easy and natural. i can see the two of you having a lot of fun together, and your relationship would be full of laughter. i feel like you can keep up with flayn’s energy and dramatis, and you’d keep each other entertained. seteth’s a bit exhausted by it all, but he’s also deeply appreciative that flayn has such a good friend by her side. 

ashe: this’d be quite the wholesome friendship, tbh. like you, ashe is diligent, dependable and sweet. i think you’d find each other very easy to be around, and it’s the sort of friendship where you can really relax. ashe would understand that from time to time, you just need to be a recluse; but he’s always ready to coax you out with a well-cooked meal. i think ashe is another one who’d enjoy your mischievous side; he’s not much of a trouble-maker himself, but that means it’s refreshing for him. 

leonie: leonie’s quite different from the other two, but i think you’d have an surprisingly close friendship!! leonie likes the fact that you’re reliable and dependable, and that’s the main thing that draws her to you; you’re on her level in that regard. she’s yet another person who admires your diligence (she’s quite the hard-worker herself, after all), and i can see her seeking you out in moments of strife. she’s much more likely to just,,, drag you out of your room than others, but it’s well-meaning. but other than that small hiccup, i think you and leonie would have a very solid, equal friendship!! 

[bbq-hawks-wings]

King of the Roost

Mediocrity had odd places of hiding itself at times. Anything or and category always had its own “average” which never truly managed to stick out from the rest. There would always be the best of the best, the worst of the worst, the best of the best, etc.; but rarely did anyone ever notice how mundane the center of the bell curve was. Usually, if you didn’t notice it was probably because you weren’t the average of whatever you were observing at the time. If you were, though, you noticed how you were glossed over, never talked to, and never even talked about save in passing comments. Anyone could be the average anywhere, and for you it was being a lone daughter of a Marquis at the royal palace at the summer ball.

Actually, it wasn’t like you received no attention at all. You were young and single, so naturally anyone seeking an advantageous marriage pestered you as suitors; but you couldn’t help but note how all who approached you were men and families below your station seeking to climb up the ladder, inadvertently pulling you down. In this society where station was everything it was suicide on one’s reputation to marry below your own station less you be talked down upon because you were foolish enough to be swayed by “the first suitor” or “had exhausted better option and had to settle.” The fact that women were often seen more as bargaining chips for their families instead of people also made the ordeal all the worse.

Yet, here you stood, alone along the edge of the ballroom, fan in hand as you watched the cliches mingle amongst themselves. There were decent characters among them, but overwhelmingly were there simply psychological and political warfare to be had among these occasions. It could be fun if you were able to find at least someone to talk to or dance with, but alas, there was always someone to talk down about or to brownnose to; and you were stuck somewhere in the middle. All this melodramatic moping only served to bring to mind how the maids had tightened your corset too tightly in attempts to get you into that too small dress in attempts to turn heads and your feet hurt from the newly cobbled shoes on marble. What a bore!

The only upside to these events was watching the procession of the commissioned officers from the army presented and decorated before the nobility. Sometimes there was one or two characters that really caught everyone’s attention. One in particular stood out.

Most officers were noble-born, given station as a right of birth over merit. Over time a soldier could manage to work his way up the ranks, but so much politics on top of hard work had to be played in order to win any sort of title that it often took years to garner any respect, and by then their most eligible years had passed them by making them targets for some of the most desperate or infatuated women in the court. This year, though, among the grizzled veterans and the widely-known young officers was a fresh, young face no one had ever seen before. He was fair and not a particularly imposing figure; but there was an aura about his person that radiated an earned confidence and his golden eyes showed a fire burning up from the depths of his young, wild heart. He was born a commoner among the fishing villages to the south, but at eighteen he had joined the ranks of the royal army and left waves of astonishment in his wake.

He was knighted and decorated this summer in front of the entire nobility for the speed and skill he showed in mounted combat, his leadership in some of the more desperate battles, his bravery in the face of danger, and his overall outstanding contributions to the campaign; and he earned the nickname “Hawk” for the deathly speed and accuracy of his wartime accomplishments. Impressed “ooh’s” and “ahh’s” echoed throughout the hall at the exhaustive list of achievements as well as several stiff and glassy-eyed applauds from members who turned up their nose at his station who so dared upstage their own lackluster merits. This man was exceptional and anything but ordinary, so far removed from the concept of average - an exact opposite to you, born to nobility with not a single notable merit to your name. You deeply admired his tenacity, but something in your heart ached at feeling like at this rate you were only a few years away from falling into obscurity and forgotten amongst the surge of emboldened youths sure to follow his lead.

You tried not to look too bored or glum as you stood there fanning yourself thinking about it. It was simply too depressing and your energy was better spent wallowing in the privacy of your own estate later.

“Pardon me, my Lady.”

The foreign voice startled you, and you turned to find none other than the source of your intrigue and current misery, bowing to your general direction with an unassuming smile.

“Y-yes,” you managed to compose yourself quickly “How may I help you, Sir Hawks?”

He straightened out and held himself at a respectful distance. “Forgive me for startling you, my lady. I merely approached you in hope there might be room on your dance card for me.”

There were no names on your card which was an embarrassment as that meant not a single gentleman had approached you so far to reserve a dance. Perhaps that was partially your fault as you could always be a little more forward, but then again you wondered about your reputation and didn’t wish to be seen as overbearing.

“Ah, please forgive me.Where are my manners? I haven’t even properly introduced myself.” Some part of his complexion actually seemed nervous though he hid it well. “I am Sir Astor O’Seighin, knight to the crown.”

Despite feeling like he may already know who you were, you were obliged to introduce yourself in kind. “Miss (Y/N) Clark, eldest daughter of The Most Honorable Marquis Clark.”

“Miss Clark, I am most happy to make your acquaintance. Again, please forgive my lapse in decorum. I would still very much wish to dance with you.”

You pondered a moment and offered him your dance book and pencil. He graciously took the book from you and didn’t say a word as he perused the dance list and penciled his name on his choice.

“Thank you, my lady. I hate to flit by and leave you so soon but I believe I’m being called away, though I’ll be sure to find you in time to dance.”

You nodded, but your heart sank. Was that all there would be to this interaction? You thanked him and let him be on his way. He was charming, all things considered - perhaps well in over his head. That was quite the slip-up, but you weren’t willing to let that completely spoil your impression of him. You continued to tell yourself that you weren’t just saying that because you couldn’t help but find him handsome.

You hadn’t long to wait for the dance he’d penciled in - you took note that he had claimed the next one on the roster, and all too soon he was making his way towards you again this time making sure to follow every proper step. He was a good dancer it turned out. His posture and form were excellent, and he knew the steps better than you did. He always kept eye contact and a smile, but these were considerably more comfortable than some other past partners you’d had the unfortunate pleasure of dancing with. It felt like a shared moment, something intimate but unobtrusive and fun between two in a room full of people; and when he offered you a refreshment afterwards you couldn’t help but accept.

“Thank you for the dance, my lady, you were a pleasure!”

You noticed yourself smiling considerably more openly than you were used to at these events which was a welcome, albeit disarming change.

“As were you, sir. Thank you for approaching me.”

“I’d like to come back for more, but unfortunately as this is my debut I feel like I should make a point to continue to introduce myself. Perhaps I’m being too forward after only just meeting you, but I hope I’ll at least have the honor to dance with you again at another occasion.”

“I’ll be sure to leave a slot open for you.” You offered beneath your eyelashes. He was doing well if he was a commoner, but you decided to test him. “I hope the other guests are treating you well?”

“Besides you?” Good aside, sir. “I’ve only just begun making rounds, but I hope I can make the best impression upon them in my pitiably short time here.”

He was clever. He avoided putting anyone down or singling anyone out. If he could really navigate the shaky court politics he might actually stand a chance.

“Well, then let me introduce you to my father. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to introduce you to more people than I presently can.”

“I’d be delighted, but more so if you’d be willing to accompany me.”

You led him across the crowd as you’d promised and he kept you in close enough company for a large portion of the night though you’d ended up separated eventually. You didn’t know what became of him, but you couldn’t help but hope you might see him again soon and that he might ask for another dance.

[rknak]

                  *·—————   𝕄𝔾𝔸 SEASON 5 !!

                                                            ( TRIOS ROUND )                                       feat. LEE CHAERYEONG and PARK WOOJIN                                                     — @rkchaeryeong & @rkpwj                                                            ♡   FIRE TRUCK   ♡

she doesn’t end up in the top 3 this time but it’s what she expected. her partner left much to desire this time around so nakyung could only pray they wouldn’t end up in the bottom end which meant sending both of them home. that’d be extremely embarrassing and a level of humiliation the girl wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle. had her been eliminated that day, it’d mean the win last episode was solely minho’s, but she proved them wrong. she was just as much part of that duo as he was.

sitting now between chaeryeong and woojin put her in a weird spot. they’d eliminate the weakest member between the worst ranking trios and she isn’t too sure where she’s standing. chaeryeong had already been repeatedly complimented for her skills by the judges themselves, and even nakyung was aired leaving good comments for woojin’s performances. she’d really rather not risk it. they better all work hard and stay safe instead of playing to figure out who the judges already got tired of.

from way before she even joined the show, nakyung had ideas she’d like to use for different situations. none of them quite fit this situation. they didn’t really have a main vocalist so any idea that required a bit more power had to be thrown away. all of her girlish fantasies were also turn into dust due to woojin being the third name called. there was no time to be upset, however. they were all dancers and that meant they could easily grab attention if they wanted to. part of the results came with voting, and maybe they could even charm some of the judges too along the way.

chaeryeong is the one who suggests the song, and while at first, the other two weren’t too sure about it, it’s what they agreed on. it was already originally under three minutes so they didn’t need to cut it and not only did it have a good amount of rap for chaeryeong to show off, the dance was intense enough for all of them to keep up with and make a good show out of it. nakyung had barely shown any rap on the previous episode, but she was assigned some more proper ones this week. it was still the ones done by the members who don’t normally rap so she should be able to keep it up.

with a song titled ‘fire truck,’ their group name came easily: firefighters. their catchphrase: we’ll burn the stage. no one seemed to see what was wrong with it until a few minutes later when they realize firefighters normally put out the fires. the three still decided to keep it. maybe it’d be a bit funny.

it still pisses her off that, out of all the five companies, they had landed on royal grounds. nakyung had always been very vocal about her dislike towards the company on her stan account and if the staff didn’t know about it then it was probably a good sign. she just couldn’t stand the fact that luxe could possibly be under the same roof as her but somewhere higher, probably. her only wish was that they’d change things around like last year and nakyung’s presence there would only be limited to a week.

she wasn't quite sure what to feel when it came to sharing a room until the two groups were put up to the test. it had all started nicely with them simply introducing each other and being friendly. it's what she would have expected of people who knew there were cameras around them. it's only when they all have their songs chosen that it really becomes trouble. gone were the memories of offering each other snacks with a proper smile on their face.

the other group's song is about just as loud as theirs and that means the air gets messy if they're both playing at the same time. from what she saw on tv, or from her impressions of him on the set, suwoong wasn't a bad guy. maybe a bit too loud but it was doing him good in terms of popularity so nakyung wasn't going to be the one to stop him. yet, with the two together in a room, things became difficult. when he turned up his song, nakyung was the one who turned theirs even louder. she should be able to listen to her own song while practicing, right?

it pisses her off by the second time he does it and the pissed off look on her face that she'd normally try not showing to the public could be more easily seen. it was different going prepared for a day of filming and being provoked in the middle of practice. suwoong should have known better, too. even with her young age, nakyung wasn't surprised by the immaturity of certain boys. when he offers some help she still smiles, thankful, and listens to his words. it's probably the same situation to him, that is all on the surface.

it's more refreshing to go out with her own teammates. it's easier to get to know two other people she had to work together with than adding three others nakyung shouldn't really bother about until further notice. she's the one who suggests going out for shopping. she is a girl of fashion and it never really got brought up before apart from her coat-throwing tendencies (thank you suwoong?) so she wants to make sure at least her teammates know about it and hop along. woojin doesn't look as interest as the girls, but it's cool of him to go anyway.

she helps them choose outfits that match both the concept and each other. some of the official clothes worn by the artists were a bit doubtful so she believes she played it safe and perhaps even a bit cooler than some stage outfits out there. they decide to stop for food after and it's the one time they can actually talk about something that isn't practice-related. the three don't know each other well enough to talk about fears and regrets, but anything new is refreshing to her, at least. from funny stories of their past to interesting facts that came up to mind, they made themselves comfortable. returning to the practice room, the air felt much more clear and practicing each movement didn't feel as hard anymore. for someone stubborn like her, asking for help here and there didn't come as that much of a challenge either.

                 *·—————

they're told to sit side by side as they did with duos before. this time they're second to last and she's unsure if that's good or not. since their song has such a strong presence it could actually be good to stick to the judges' minds. maybe it'd even make the following group sound worse by comparison.

with each episode having fewer performances nakyung is bound to pay more attention to them. there are only three episodes left with this one included which meant surviving this round they went straight to the semi-finals. anyone in that room could be serious competition and she isn't ready to lose quite yet. she had won one challenge already so all that was left to do was go for the big prize.

when they call their name, the three contestants make their way to the center of the stage which is slightly modified but not too much. the greeting they decided on may not make too much sense, but hopefully, they could manage to get some attention with it. "we'll burn the stage! hello, we are the firefighters!" nakyung bows to the judges in front of them who always look so damn serious. she wonders if they'll have a stronger eye on her due to her using a few of their songs last week, which means she also hopes she'll do better this time around an make them proud.

they take their initial positions with their back to the front of the stage. they had planned a strong start and nakyung is ready to deliver it.

GET IT LIFTED!

they all shout in unison, showing only the first of their cards. it gives them power right at the start, and if their obnoxious of a song wouldn’t be enough to grab some attention then maybe this could make some sleepy eyes focus.

chaeryeong is the first to start as their main rapper. this is one of the parts she had practiced the most to perfect. while the other girl is busy being the center of the stage, nakyung and woojin need to work on the floor. if she did anything loosely then it’d be much more visible than just messing up a hand movement. while it is complex, it’s also at the very start. she’s well-rested and her moves come out clean before it’s her time to take over.

Don’t try to get out of it I don’t like lukewarm moods, no thanks My back seat is shaking, getting hot After I burn it up, we get lit

due to the nature of the song, she’s given rap portions. she doesn’t mind it, personally. if anything, it could only help her image. from a cute girl maybe nakyung could finally get some points towards her versatility which is something she had already shown up to this stage and she wants to keep on showing it until the end of the show if they let her. thankfully, the girl already comes equipped with cocky expressions in her portfolio. she doesn’t want no lukewarm moods that the previous performances had put on the set. instead, she’ll make sure this performance will be her best so far.

woojin had shown no problem having fewer lines, so the ones that classified as singing were all given to him. nakyung and chaeryeong stay in position and deliver strong movements to accompany his part. she had worked hard for this. the last thing she wanted was for her to disappear in this performance instead of showing what she really got. maybe her teammates were all great performances but she was one too.

the chorus of the song is a dance break. none of them could really do what the original artist could, so that meant they were all a little bit modified to fit their set of skills. she thinks it’s for the better. they got to show something that they can do other than failing at following the original. just like the start of the song had gone, chaeryeong starts by rapping her part before nakyung hops in.

Just hold up If you keep pushing, you’ll get hurt, get higher It’s hot as a rocket This place is about to explode in 10 seconds

she walks forward swiftly, taking on the front and center of the stage. nakyung follows the movements precisely which are mainly making sure her arms are at the correct angle before stepping to the side. the format of the song remains the same, but she thinks it always feels a little bit different. the chorus by itself already brings something new to the table. it’s longer and with a new vocal line on top of it. even if by now she should be feeling some level of tired—maybe from the constant spotlight against the top of their heads—she keeps on going with the intenseness she had started with. it’s probably the adrenaline.

the song slows down only briefly to accommodate the bridge. the girls dance behind woojin to allow him getting the proper attention. it’s right after it that comes the final dance break, but, just like they had done for others, things changed a little bit from the original.

DANCE MY PARTY PEOPLE!

they scream together once again, leading towards the final portion.

the trio split the end into three parts and distributed it between the three of them. since they were all dancers, each got to choreograph their own solo dance performance at the end of the song. although nakyung had never really thought of choreographing things herself before the start of this show, her partnership with minho during the first round of duos really gave her the confidence to do it, and she’s glad she gets to do it again.

when they’re each done with their part, they repeat the final movement of the original song, lowering themselves to the sudden silence of what was once loud music. she holds her position until one of her teammates decides to move and thanks the judges before returning to her seat. nakyung’s really proud of what they got to do and she honestly believes they won’t go to the bottom. she’d get to shine again, she’s sure of it.