#than i thought. bc this translation leans way too hard into the 'direct translation' of words and phrases and slang

[vynegar]

help i have such Opinions on translation now

[hideyseek]

okay well i was doing something else (liveblogging me watching guardian episode 23) and i started writing a post that "quoted" the show, then second-guessed my translation, and then spent literally two hours thinking about how to translate the preceding sentence. oops. this post is so long but also was SO fun.

ok so the full ... thing that zhao yunlan says is: 他这个人呀，个性太深沉. 喜欢哑巴吃黄连. 所以我只能等着了, 等到他苦到心头, 苦到他自己说出来为止. i'm only actually translating the first sentence, bc it took me like two hours and i need to go to bed. that first sentence is: 他这个人呀，个性太深沉. the 他 (he) in this sentence refers to shen wei.

uh. direct translation (literal translation? idk what this is called) would be something like: he, this person, personality too [adjective]. just to give some sense of structure, bc i have translation opinions about this later.

first off, this adjective. 沈沉 (shen1 chen2) means both "deep, profound" and "undemonstrative, reserved", according to pleco. i'm willing to bet that the line is meant to describe shen wei with both meanings. my best translation includes the word "fathom". "hard to fathom" or "fathomless" — i think that leans toward both the "depth" part and the lack of knowing/understanding, though describing someone as "fathomless" conveys the distance of "reserved" from the other direction: a distance to breach rather than a distance created. i'll accept this only because zhao yunlan, rather than shen wei, is the one speaking (well also becaue there is not another english word i know that can do this lol.) also, the bit i'm most thrilled about with this word choice: both characters (沈沉) in the original phrase have the water radical, and 沉 used as a verb means "to sink" (as an adjective it means "heavy"). historically (but modern-day in usa english only apparently), a fathom is a unit (equal to 6 feet) used to measure water depth, which pleasantly mirrors the deep water that the original phrase invokes to me.

and then the matter of preserving the cadence of the original line. lol. lmao, even. in my mind, part of what i'm valuing as a translator is giving an actor the same amount of time to work with when speaking. does this matter to other people? probably not. if this was written down i would probably value something else. but i'm the one writing the world's longest post about this, and bai yu said it, so.

initially i thought something like: "he's— he's too fathomless a person." the added dash because i couldn't think of another way to give the reader or actor the space of "这个人呀", which directly translated is like "this person" and here in the line i think is just a way to lend emphasis to "他" (he). but the dash could also force an actor into playing hesitation on the line when it's not originally present -- the way bai yu says this, it comes across meandering/pondering. (screams)

ok fast forwarding to after i chewed on this stick for way too long, bc it got late and i wasn't that structured about thinking about it anymore. it became a sort of "brute force it and then identify what i dislike about this translation and try to fix it." i'm going with: "he's such a fathomless person, that guy." (admittedly, this is without translating the other sentences of this bit that zhao yunlan is saying. in full context / going into the next sentence i might tweak it later.) analysis (justification? lol) follows:

the addition of "that guy" emphasizes the "he" of the first phrase and lengthens the whole line without making it more formal (more difficult than i expected!) in a way that mirrors the "这个人呀" of the original line. this is the "giving an actor enough words to work with" thing. just "he's such a fathomless person" is much more direct than the original line. but with this translation, there is an added distance between the speaker and the object of the sentence. in the original line, zhao yunlan says "这个人", meaning literally "this person", but in the sentence i feel like it's being used as more like, "this example" ("he", shen wei). either way, to me there's a nearbyness/presence conveyed. but it didn't feel right to maintain the use of "this" when shen wei isn't in the room (actually i have no idea if he is even in the building), and also in english when speaking generally about a person, i feel like it's more ... fluid(??) to say "that guy" than "this guy" (though truthfully writing this post has made me doubt my grasp of english about seven times so i'm really not so sure anymore). anyway, the point is, i compromised with "that guy".

we also lose the directness of zhao yunlan commenting specifically on shen wei's character/personality, since the original line is phrased as, "his personality/character is too [adjective]", but i'm satisfied with how much of that idea is retained with this translation. i also don't want to prioritize including the word "personality" over mirroring the cadence of the translation (when this would also cost us the secondary meaning of "character"). and, when including an extra word to capture this meaning (ie, the word "personality"), i couldn't figure out a way to juggle both the "too/overmuch" meaning of 太 and the natural-sounding two-part structure to the original line. "his personality is too/so fathomless" / "he's too fathomless a person" both don't sound quite right to me, but "he's too hard to fathom" emphasizes this idea of difficulty/prior attempt that both isn't present in the original line and doesn't really feel in character for zhao yunlan at this point. by now shen wei has already described zhao yunlan as the one person who has attempted to/partially succeeded in understanding him.

i wanted a third pros/cons paragraph bc two felt like too few but i think that was already my entire rant about "fathom" above. the third pro is: this translation achieved ... basic translation, lol. it conveys roughly the same meaning as the spoken lines and as far as i can tell (not far) is roughly the same level of casual/formal-ness. it doesn't include any additional metaphors or similes not present in the original.

ok that's all lol. goodnight ✌️

[multifandomhaven]

Pairing: Lalo Salamanca x reader Word count: 1.7k A/N: So my love for Lalo has suddenly slapped me in the face and I can’t get enough of him. I couldn’t find any Lalo x reader fics so I decided to let my mind run wild with this one. I figure he’d be a flirty guy bc have you seen this man? He oozes charm and his mouth never stops, so it’s pretty much a given.

Also, I speak zero Spanish and used Google Translate for this, so please don’t hold the translations against me if they’re wrong.

The woman watched as the children mingled among the elderly - boys running amok while the girls spoke with the older ladies about their snowy hair and the rings on their fingers. It was controlled chaos - they were, of course, under the watchful eye of the staff, but it was chaos all the same.

She was kept constantly on her toes. Just as she finished ushering a group of children out of the cafeteria she noticed a few of the students approaching a man in a wheelchair. She watched for signs of discomfort on his face, knowing that kids weren't some people's cup of tea, and found that and more when she saw his eyes. They were hard and he seemed like he didn't want to be a part of the rambunctious activity, so she stepped over to the children crowding around him and quickly directed them elsewhere.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, her smile genuine as she spoke to him, "I'll try to reign them in."

He hardly moved, his eyes scanned her as they sat there in what she felt like was a standoff, but she could tell by the breath that heaved out of him that he wasn't pleased. His lips twitched and she waited for him to say something, but he only continued to stare. He moved his arm only slightly - almost undetectable -until his finger hovered over what looked to be a bell that had been tied onto the arm of his chair by a string. The digit shook for a moment before he flicked his wrist and a shrill ding echoed throughout the room.

Some of the children looked around for the sound while others ignored it completely. The teacher, not knowing what the sound might be indicating just gave him another quick apology and scurried away, snapping gently at one of the children as they reach for an elder gentlemen's glasses, eager to try them on.

"No," she reprimanded him, pointing her finger so that he'd understand she was speaking to him. "We don't need to be sharing personal belongings with these nice people, okay?"

Sneaking in a quick moment she leaned against the wall and sighed heavily - pleased that this was one of the last field trips of the year. She didn't know if she could handle many more with this group - as sweet as they were they were also just as rambunctious. She pushed off the wall and herded the group of tiny humans onto the stage to perform the song they'd been practicing for weeks.

They settled on the stage, the teacher in the middle and the children surrounding her in a circle.

The residents gathered around, eager to hear what they'd prepared - even the wheelchair bound man watched them from his corner of the room. Glancing up, the teacher looked in his direction and was mildly surprised to see another man with him, younger, but older than her still. He spoke to the man with the bell in hushed whispers, his words shared between only them, before his eyes, too, were upon the stage.

The new man's inky gaze found her own and she held it as he made himself comfortable in his chair, sitting back like he owed the place, legs spread and one elbow propped up onto the table, his eyes shining with interest. His free hand ran through his dark hair before he raised his chin to her in acknowledgement.

Tearing her concentration away the woman cleared her throat and then quietly started their count - the agreed upon count of three - and then strummed the guitar in her lap.

The children watched her, mesmerized as always when the notes came together, blending into the beloved song. She'd strummed through the beginning once and when one had began to sing the woman took it upon herself to get them started. She opened her mouth, the words dancing from her tongue as easily as she breathed. Her voice was soft, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

"I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself what a wonderful world"

She glanced around at the children, her bright smile encouraging some of them to join in. Some began to sway while they sang and in just a few moments they'd finally found harmony. Their voices melded together into something beautiful, bringing a tear to many of the resident's eyes. Most of the watched, their hands clasped together in happiness, while some of the others locked hands and swayed gently to the tune.

Almost as soon as it began, the song was over.

The class stood up, locked hands and gave a small bow. They waved and made their way to the door, the teacher checking her list as they passed her one by one to gather on the school bus. Once she was sure she had everyone marked she glanced back inside the double doors and caught the mysterious man's eyes once again. She could feel the weight of his stare even before she turned, and she gave him a small wave.

He returned it with a great smile - his teeth even whiter against the mustache on his lip.

The entire ride back to school she thought of the dark eyed man's stare - his predatory gaze and his grin that was so big it looked like it hurt. She was an independent woman, she was strong and she knew that she should be above such juvenile thoughts, but she couldn't help but blush when she thought of his demeanor. He was shockingly confident, even they way he sat was like he was offering a challenge to the world around him, his shoulders were back and his held held high. His interesting choice in shirts was also something she'd picked up on quickly - she hadn't met many men that wore what looked like such a delicate fabric - not to mention the dizzying design printed on it.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and went about her day - her mind drifting from the man back to her work.

Until a few days later in a restaurant on the other side of town.

Work had drained her and instead of preparing her own meal she'd decided to stop by and get a quick meal - El Michoacáno was on her route home and she was suddenly hungry for some Mexican cuisine, so she pulled into the parking lot and stepped out. She straightened her shirt and smoothed down her hair before she grabbed her purse and went inside.

Upbeat music blared overhead and the smell of spices and the sizzling sound of the grill was nearly enough for her to begin to salivate. Her eyes were glued to the menu ahead and she stepped forward.

The man behind the counter greeted her quickly and she ordered back just as fast - the number six looked amazing. She reach into her purse and fished for her wallet when suddenly there was a warm hand on her arm.

"Please," a happy voice came from beside her. "Allow me."

She glanced over and was once again met with a blinding grin from the man at the retirement home. He wagged his eyebrow at her once and then reach some money over the counter. He leaned against it, looking down at her with the same curiosity he had watched her with only a few days earlier.

"You're the teacher that performed at Casa Tranquila , no?"

The woman bit back a grin. "That's right. And you're the guy with the colorful shirts."

A chuckle tore out of his throat. "Si, si. I enjoy this particular pattern," he motioned to the floral design that decorated his chest. "I've got to admit, senorita, you've been on my mind for the last few days."

"Oh?" She grinned, looking down at the flowy white shirt and then down to her simple blue jeans. "The lack of color in my wardrobe keeping you up at night?"

"No, no, no," he smiled. "Your clothes suit you. It would be a crime for you to wear such a thing."

She raised a brow and joked, "so you've claimed all patterns then?"

"You misunderstand." He raised his hand and motioned to her face. "Why try to take the attention away from such a beautiful face?"

It was like a fire was lit beneath her - her cheeks burned, all the way to the tips of her ears, and she found herself tucking her hair back - something she hadn't done since middle school. She inwardly cursed her actions, but was able to mumble out a quick, "thank you."

"No, what I've been thinking about is your song," he told her. 

She laughed and grabbed her order when the man behind the counter held it out to her. She gave him a quick thank you and turned back to the man still leaning against the counter. "The kids love it, too. It's a classic."

"Si," he agreed once again. "Forgive my manners, señorita, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo."

"Lalo," she repeated. "I've got to admit it's better than calling you shirt guy."

He chuckled again, his eyes never leaving her. "You're a peculiar woman."

"So I've been told," she admitted. She held her free hand out to him, offering a proper handshake. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N," Lalo said, taking her hand in his own. His hand was large, warm and oddly smooth. Her name rolled off his tongue like honey and she had to fight the tingle that shot down her spine, sending heat straight to her belly. "And now I don't have to call you Profesora de canto."

"I guess not," she agreed. She glanced down to the food in her hand. "Thanks again for the food."

He shrugged. "Of course."

"Maybe sometime I can pay you back," she offered slyly.

Lalo grinned, this time brightest of all. "I'll hold you to it."

*Profesora de canto - singing teacher (again, this is according to Google Translate)

[enzo-zzz]

A vent on the fandom + cg

If you dont wanna hear any negativity, please just ignore this post. It includes dissatisfication on the yttd fandom and ongoing belief in it. I'm not going to use very kind words here, so just ignore this post. 3b spoilers included.

I like yttd so much, but the english fandom, i cannot interact because how toxic it is. Even the smallest different of which route you choose, will attract anyone to abuse, harrass, ridicule or humiliate you. And to be truth, there are many of them who are so judgemental, to the point that there is only one thing that are right and the other are wrong. Black and white mindset. The term "canon route" is what fans created itself. I guess there are many of them who are teens or kids, since most of kids who havent grown up yet tend to lean towards black and white mindset, even if they believe they are not. If you find people who keep arguing especially on social media, you can bet that its teens. Adult are too tired to involve in things like fighting with strangers. There is one time when the poll asked your age and the age range quite small to teens age. I guess thats why i think so.

OTHER THAN THAT, THERE'S ONE THING I'M ANNOYED WITH. ABOUT THE CG AND HOW THE FANDOM DECIDES THAT THE MORE CGS, THE MORE CANON IT IS. To be perfectly honest, i'm the one who came up with the analysis that on certain route 2-2 ending the cg is more. But people really use it the wrong way and now thought that anything that has more cg is the canon route. The word canon route is wrong in itself, who tf come up with the term canon route in yttd? Is the reason for creating two route is for one to be canon only, or for sparing different characters, or for having different storyline? (I personally think that on different route, the story will change and the ones who got to live at last is probably different ). Now i see those who misuse that information everywhere. "In sou route 2-2 ending evil joe AI dont even have new cg but in kanna route he has. See how biased the devs are? he should have drawn more if he really meant the route to be the canon one. Kanna route will get happy ending, sou route is bad ending." I think thats stupid. B*tch, he keep reusing his old art here and there. You can check for yourself. Joe and midori has same hand based on the cg? He's just reusing the hand art. The arm in 3b and 1-1 is the same arm he reuse. Sou and kanna 2-2 ending basically use the same sou drawing, he just changed it a bit. Sara in 2-2 kanna ending use the same cg as when keiji try to calm her in front of computer, he just changed the face. Midori and sara on the 3b game screen cg basically use the same cg in the 3b content, but changed a bit. So i can think why need to create new cg when joe is still malicious as the hallucination in 2-2 sou ending? If i want to create something i will also reuse this to save my time.

So if you wanna really use this cg argument, then maybe you can consider why alice memory game got so many more cg than reko's? and how ranmaru gone insane has so many new sprite and pose with the hair like that. And why when dummy is dead they got cg's. Especially the ranmaru dying one, he got moving cg's and how it was put more effort into that. Then that means dummy dying is actually the canon route since when they alive they got no addtional cg? This is my assumption, but i think the devs just do as many cg as it takes depends on how impactful the scene he's working on, not because its canon, thats really a lazy take if he is actually unwilling to do extra route but still forcing himself to do it anyway. Imagine if dummy is dying but no cg, instead a message " ranmaru/mai/anzu died ". Do you think that will really give impact to you? This game clearly hinting that joe is going to be the spotlight of the game, even in 3b. So when sou set the real joe ai in kanna route for sara, the script is written for the real joe to genuinely react to sara. of course thats going to be heartwrenching since joe himself is the very important part of sara's life. When the script is made that way, lacking of cgs will hamper down the storytelling nankidai genuinely want to deliver. All i can say is it come from the heart of the author himself. If it is just only text for something as tearful as that moment and no cgs, it wont really touch the feeling isnt it? It is the same with alice memory game that tells about how alice "kill" midori. I'm not sure how many it is but atleast there is 3 cgs with one of them has variant. The story of how alice kill midori is also important and should have impact, thus the extra CG's. I can say its about being passionate and indulged in the storytelling.

I dont even know if joe will ever heal sara in sou route, but based on how the story still keep joe relevant til the end, then there must be something that need to happen between them in the end right? Nankidai even made sure that sara see the dog keychain in 3a if player probably choose to not ask gin about the dog keychain he's hiding in ch 2. Its also for relating ranmaru and joe. Having closure or conclusion with joe in the middle of game is still valid, and having a closure with joe at the end of the game is still valid. Imo, having closure with joe at the end of the game after all of those suffering involving him makes the better climax or impact for sara chara development since the game build up to highlight joe and mr. Policeman, it can be even better if all of it are to be pull together in the ending.

Even if the devs has route he prefer, he's not abandoning any route he less prefer, only if its true that he ever have a route he prefer. Plus you dont know which route he's prefer if any. He's taking his work seriously, it just some "fans" looking down on him, even to the point calling him biased, he's punishing the one who take another route, treating like he only use his career for egostatiscal reason (it somehow clearly mirrors that you are the one who egostatiscal to the point of wanting to find any excuse to punish other, you just using the devs name to validate your mindset). If he's dislike people who chose that route that much, then why create that route? If he know its tiring to make alternate route, then why still make the choice to let 3 dummy alive route at the end? It will make more work. I can only assume its out of passion, or just that he deep down wants the character to be alive atleast in a route ( idk if this is correct, i just read google translated version of his public fanbox that he's actually very reluctant at first when the time comes and "crying" so hard when he had to kill joe in chapter 1. So the part where he wants to spare some character is only my assumption ). By this punishing logic, shouldnt he not make alice die when you push reko ai to spare gin, and only do it to those who dont push the ai to save gin by killing real reko? I am more sure that the variants is to tell a different story or who to spare, and specifically for who sara actually was.

Happy endings? I'm not sure. I've expected that once from story with a lot of deaths, wishing for atleast the protagonists alive. Anime or story with a lot of death is definitely my jam, but from what i see, most of them has bittersweet ending, it depends on how the author wants it to be. Some author dont mind killing them all till the end, and some author just easily kill them all because they plan to revive them later. And everyone sense is different. Some japanese people sense in storytelling is a bit different imo. As the one being the audience, happy endings is the most common wish the audience wants. But its all up to the sense of the author. This is why i'm annoyed with some kids from overseas who rarely watch or play many things that involves a lot of death from japan suddenly says that this "one happy ending, this one bad ending! Everyone will survive in this route, everyone dead in this route"

Just play any route you like, nothing wrong with that. Whats wrong is to start this war of ridiculing others or have that irritating attitude towards those who play their own first route and start bad mouthing or desperately throwing bad assumption that one route will end very bad just for the sake of feeling better for your choice and to scare others.You do know that when you read a book, you'll only know if the overall story is good or bad until you know the ending right? The ending will conclude everything that happened. What happening in the fandom is now like, you only read 3/4 of the book and already expecting that this one will have good ending and bad ending. What if its not about the binary, but for the difference in direction? Its not that bad if the story of the book is kinda predictable, but with how plot twists become the main part of yttd's charm, its getting more difficult to predict how it will end. There's a lot of story which was masterpiece in every part as seen by fans, until the ending hits. Its what the author wants, but its not what the fans wants.

If you pick fights with others, even passively, the consequence is all on you. Good luck taking care of your mess.

Thats why i'm reluctant to publish any theory because the fandom will always use it as an excuse to pick fights with other and say " i'm more right bcs i got this proof" . U see in my caption i dont want any of those harasser to even digest my theory. If you are one of them get out of my blog.

[godrics]

NCT DREAM BEYOND LIVE CONCERT!RORY

gif made by x

NCT DREAM BEYOND LIVE CONCERT!RORY

UNDER READ MORE  (bc it’s actually really long now that im on tumblr)

okay so the concert started with the vcr/video from the dream show ..

rory's little scene was her as a teacher !!! so cute

OOH and then the transition into her into her teacher clothes into a suit .. thats my girl

her hair is still like this. much more vibrant than it was because she redyed it oops

first song was GO!! change ur ways

she was wearing this [ black cargo pants, a black crop top, belt, along with chains lmao idk how to describe. oh and black boots ] for go, drippin', we go up, and stronger performances!

it was kind of awkward at first but then she saw nctzens' faces so she was happy

"to the world, this is the nct! we are nct dream”

she clapped excitedly, jumping up and down

"beyond the dream show~"

when haechan asked the time where the fans were, she read the comments, squinting funnily at the screen before gasping

"one of the czennies said it was 3am!"

the other boys gasped in shock before clapping slightly

"thank you for watching us even though it's 3am!" rory said to the fans. "but go to bed as soon as this is over~ or whenever you're feeling tired, that's okay too!"

"for our global fans, we prepared something special, right?" haechan said and rory nodded, smiling

"so we prepared our greeting in various languages"

rory's greeting was in french! fans went crazy bc she sounded SO good and her pronounciation was good too

after that she says, "renjun took english from me" in english and playfully glared at the older boy who laughed.

she turned to the fans and said, "but um, wendy-unnie taught me that so .. if it sounds bad it's all her fault." she claps as the other boys laugh

when they were talking about how they felt, rory said "i watched superm and wayv's concerts so i was excited because i knew we'd hear from the fans just like they were here with us in person. they were really loud, too" and laughs

when renjun told them to scream, she hit him lightly and said "yah, don't you remember what i just said? some fans it's 3am there!"

"oh dont scream then," renjun laughed, making her laugh before she went back to waving at the fans as they waved their lightsticks

when the fans appeared behind them, her eyes widened and she immediately ran to the screen, waving in all directions

she noticed when she got close to a fan's screen, they'd start waving their hand/lighstick even harder and it made her laugh

"rory, come back!" jaemin laughed, tugging her with him back to where the other 5 were

"wow, pretty grass" rory mocked mark as she stared at the lightsticks where the audience were supposed to be and on the screens

haechan had to hide a laugh

then there was we go up performance

woo fun

then stronger! she loves that song is2g

okay for the next vcr

she was in a school uniform standing in between jeno and jaemin

"you guys suck," rory laughed, watching the boys try to succeed

when renjun comes over and succeeds in under one minute and one hand, she gasped in shock lightly before watching him walk away coolly and put his head back down on the desk

jaemin nudged her as she laughed, "you guys are just losers!"

and then it ends on her walking over to renjun and bending down to face him and tapping him on the shoulder

he jumps from how close she is and she laughs, grinning at him, "that was cool" before going back over to the boys and he watches her

next video of the vcr oo

she gets hit in the head by the basketball(she's after chenle) and luckily saves it before it falls to the ground and throws it towards the basket, renjun jumping up to hit it in

why is she always getting hit in the head rip rory's head

next performance is dunk shot!!!

she hated the outfits tho jfc

she was wearing white loose shorts that ended midthigh and a pink button up over a white t-shirt

yeah super plain im so sorry rory that the stylists did you dirty like that

(to be fair the boys looked bad too like what was that matching .. there was NONE)

NEXT IS CHEWING GUM!!

AND THERE WERE HOVERBOARDS

SHE MISSED THE HOVERBOARDS SO MUCH

she hyped up jisung so loud during his solo dance

and had a huge ass smile on her face during it

she was in the middle of renjun and chenle at the bottom

AND THEY LEFT A SPACE FOR MARK IN BETWEEN JAEMIN AND JISUNG SHE ALMOST CRIED

"i think chenle changed the most" rory laughed, talking about the difference from now and almost four years ago when they debuted

"you changed a lot, too" chenle poked her and she huffed out a laugh, choosing not to respond to him and shook her head

when it was time for the interactions, she had to hide her wince because since she watched wayv and superm's, she was worried about how it would go because some fans' wifi connections were bad(so were sm's but anyways--)

oh luckily the first fan spoke korean !!

"hi!" she waved excitedly at the fan

when the fan said her name, she quietly repeated it to herself but it was still heard from the mic

"there's a song called 7 days in your album. what do you guys mean to each other?"

rory's mouth went dry at that question as she rubbed her hands together, looking at the boys silently as they ahhed and oohed

she smiled slightly as she saw how big their smiles got at the question

chenle said that the members were his family. they're literally siblings

she laughed at that

hyuck said that the members were apart of himself and that he grew up with all of them

jisung said bc they're older than him, they're like his younger siblings

rory had to look away in order to not laugh at his answer LMFAO

she couldnt contain how big her smile got when jaemin said that he couldn't live without them

she literally almost cried from tears of laughter from jeno's answer "onion"

renjun said that the members are youth to him

and him bringing up the stupid bottle to his face . i s2g she quickly yanked that from him so quick while laughing

and then finally it was her turn

"um, thank you for the question, siyoung!" she clapped slightly before continuing. "to me, the members are .. my childhood" she nodded slightly as she spoke. "we all grew up together so each of them have a piece of my childhood that i dont want to leave"

renjun pulls her into a side hug as jeno says "cute~"

wolfies(rory's stans) cried

when the fan said she'd stick with nct dream seven days a week, she laughed from the sudden overwhelming feeling at her words and bowed towards the fan, keeping her eyes to the ground so the camera wouldn't catch her teary eyes

too bad the camera did once she looked back up

"nct dream have 8 members--" when haechan said that, rory smiled big and nodded her head

"infinity" rory cheered, the members following behind

the next caller was up!

"ooh, poland" rory smiled

the fans question was "what are your biggest dreams" which she translated for them

rory's answer was "i have no doubt that nct dream will stay together forever so ... i my biggest dream is nctzens staying with us forever. even when we all grow up and have our own lives, i hope nctzens will some day think of nct dream and smile"

jaemin literally walked over and pinched her cheek, cooing at how cute she was

rory rolled her eyes playfully but let him

ah yes to this day he's still the only one she'll allow to give her skinship in public

rip other boys

she felt so sad when the third caller's connection was bad

"ah ... difficult technicalities"

she put a thumbs down

anyways next was don't need your love!!!

she LOVES this song so much guys its unreal

her place at the start is right in between renjun and jisung again lmao

shes leaning against chenle and jaemin

she loves hearing the boys' english btw

also in this version she has more lines but im not gonna tell which ones that's too much work

and next is we young!!

watching the part when they take a pic .. made me cry so it made rory very nostalgic

rory's wearing a professional suit but like . with a skirt i forgot what its called rip

she's standing in between hyuck and jeno

when jaemin laughs she laughs

she has that pic in her phone case btw

along with an ot8 pic

when they're talking abt the 50 years later OO im gonna . cry again

"so we can see how we change"

"um, we're gonna look older" rory laughed

btw grandma rory literally still looks good as hell sorry i dont make the rules

rory: "chenle would look like steve jobs but like .. chinese"

chenle was so offended bye

rory: "jisung if you grow a mustache i will never forgive you"

"wHY DOES IT MATTER?????"

"bc you'd look stupid i cant be seen with someone looking stupid"

the other pic where renjun jumps .. her face is literally so genuinely shocked in that pic LMAO she didnt expect that

NEXT IS BEST FRIENDS OH MY GODD I LOVED IT SO DID SHE

SHE JUST WISHED MARK WAS THERE .. AND HE KINDA WAS

btw she was wearing a black blazer but it was shorter .. and another black skirt with a white crop top underneath rip

OKAY HYERI MADE NCTZENS CRY SO HARD

so theyre uneven rn right?

so instead of her being a third wheel(not really)

when it's her part, she's backstage and as she's doing her part, she reached into an open closet and .. pulls out a cutout board of mark :((

yeah she cried too when she thought of it and luckily sm let her!!

at the end of her part towards the end of the song, she smiles and says, "right, mark-oppa?" and forms half a heart up to the camera

(taeyong later sends her a video of mark reacting to her parts and when she does the heart he puts half a heart up next to hers <3)

next is candle light! they dont really have a choreo to this one either

anyway candle light wouldnt have been her first choice bc she'd prefer to perform dear dream .. BUT ANYWAY

next is PUZZLE PIECE and 7 DAYS!!

the camera catches her and jisung doing their little handshake . so cute

she then hugs chenle so he wouldnt feel left out

end posing of puzzle piece, she's in between chenle and jisung AGAIN SLDJDJL

they form a heart with her doing the bottom and chenle and jisung doing the top/sides

when they read the comments after performing jeno reads one that says "rory is so talented, her vocals are so good"

and then hyuck read "rory's parts in best friends was so cute"

she blushes so cute

when they talk abt the album

rory says in english, "thank you for supporting us and we hope you guys enjoyed listening to the album as much as we enjoyed making it .. think of it as our gift to you for always loving us!!" cute baby. and then gives a little finger heart

special guest is mark, jungwoo, and doyoung!!

she expected mark but was surprised about jungwoo and doyoung

she couldnt stop smiling the whole time because literally all she had to do was see 127 and smile immediately like they dont even got to do anything

the technical difficulties .. rory said in english again "i think you need to get your wifi checked, mark"

"no mark-oppa?" he teased and she laughed

when they were complimenting them, jungwoo said that mark really enjoyed rory's parts in best friends and she full out giggled from nervousness, blushing from embarrassment

doyoung complimented her vocals and rap and shes never been so proud of herself

compliments from 127? her greatest achievement

jungwoo then said she was so cute wow more blushing

she found the challenge boring and wouldve preferred if 127 picked the damn challenge themselves bc then it wouldve been funnier and more fun but alas .. sm >:(

she picked puzzle piece tho

THE FUCKING NEXT VCR .. so emotional when she watched over it

she literally just watched her and her friends grow up in literal seconds

there's a clip of her from chewing gum on mark's back while he's riding the hoverboard

.. also somehow they got a clip of her hugging jaemin when he came back sigh

emotional manipulation!! she was kinda pissed that was in there bc it was supposed to be private but what can she do .. it's sm

there's a video of her chasing jeno during we young era while on the mv set

and another one of renjun literally dragging her on the ground because she wouldnt let go of his legs in mfal era

in mfal era she's seen running over chenle when he's out of their little cars

its funny he almost fell if jeno didnt catch him LMAO

but its ok dont fret he was in the grass

mfal era where hyuck tries to make a basket but fails and she steals the ball from him and makes it in .. he pouted FOREVER after that

the video of them in chewing gum era and then goes to ridin' era ..

her clip is her smiling shyly at the camera WITH HER CUTE PIGTAILS OH MYGODDD SO SOFT SO BABY

and then it goes to her in ridin' era with her leaning against the car and a lollipop in her mouth, staring dead straight at the camera somehow intimidatingly

n then ofc the music changes and the videos go more recent

theres clips of her behind the scenes in we young, go, dnyl, and boom

also some of her at that dream show concert

the ridin' stage was prerecorded but anyway she's wearing the same outfit she does in the mv

she saw a clip of the car cg and she yelled at the members jokingly saying it almost ran her over

wearing same outfit for quiet down which was live

they had one more song after :( she was really sad and she made sure nctzens knew that

"i wish we could perform more songs for you guys but .. only one more :(" and then sighed really loudly

"i wish you guys were here in person as well but your health is way more important and until then .. well, hopefully we can see each other again in the future! i miss seeing all your pretty faces" she then pouted as the other members oohed loudly and she laughed

after the other members continue she then reminds them all to "wash their hands and wear their masks over their noses if they have to go out"

when renjun says bonjour her eyes widen and she says "wow, so you stole my english and now my french?" she jokingly raises her hand to hit him but all he does is laughs and grabs her hand to 'stop her'

last is boom!

they shouldve performed dear dream or mfal but i guess booms good too not like they havent had to hear that song for 9 months

anyways

at the end she sneakily gives the camera a finger heart

[frywen-babbles]

Sounds of Silence pt6

"They shouldn't send you messages like that. You've done nothing wrong."

"It's okay. It'll die out soon enough when they realise I won't make any of this public. I just want to move on with my life." She shoved some cake into her mouth before she continued. "Enough about me. How have you been?"

"Studying," he replied before he thought of something. "I'll visit mother tomorrow... I thought... maybe you'd..."

"I'd love to come. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

He nodded in response and took a sip of his tea. Why was the situation suddenly so... awkward. What did people talk about in dates... non-dates anyway?

"Um... What's the new job you got?"

"The same old. Shelving in a grocery store, just in a different one than before."

"That must be... interesting."

"Please, it's boring as fuck. But it's a job."

Mitsunari regarded her carefully. Once she had talked about wanting to become a teacher and he couldn't but wonder what had become of those dreams. Now she seemed content at working in a grocery store, her dreams seemingly forgotten. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he remembered how fondly she had talked about her dream. Had she given up on it completely? She wouldn't, would she? He worked so hard to achieve his dream and proving himself it seemed almost unthinkable someone would just give up.

"Earth to Manju-boy, are you even paying attention to me?" Mitsunari was woken from his thoughts when she tapped his arm gently.

"Just thinking about my studies."

"How are they going anyways?"

*****

Miraculously, their non-date had ended well and way less awkwardly than he had feared. They had ended up talking about his studies for way longer than he had planned, but she hadn't seemed to mind.

He was just about to go to sleep when his phone blinged with a message.

<i wntd 2 apologise> <i hd no rght 2 b that mean 2 u>    <What do you mean?> <thse mssgs i swd u> <i thgt ud say th same> <thnk u> <it rly mns a lot ur on my side>    <Of course I am.>

She didn't reply so he put his phone down and closed his eyes ready to sleep. But just as he had drifted off his phone blinged with a new message waking him up.

<it tk me 2 long 2 admit wht ws gng on. nd aftr thn i wnted 2 stay bc i lved him. i blievd it ws nly once. twice. i thght if id jst chnge myslf he didnt hve any rson 2 gt angry at me. i trd so hrd 2 be the prfct wife i feel like i lost myself. Ths isnt how I thght my life wld be.> <im scred> <i have no1 I cn rely on> <im sorry im blathering u must be thinking abt ur mom> <i shldnt cmplain evrythng is fine im sry>    <No, it's okay. It's understandable to be scared.> <sry> <im jst so lost> <nd scard> <all of ths is nw 2 me> <we gt mrried whn i finishd hgh school. i rlied 2 hm on evrthng> <nd nw its jst all gne> <sry 2 nght evrthng jist cmes rshing dwn> <ill go 2 bed now night>    <Don't apologise. Being scared of the unknown is part of human nature.>    <Good night.>

***

The next day he waited for her in front of the hospital. He had come way too early so his thoughts turned into the previous day and to his... non-date. She had looked very pretty. Beautiful. He looked at his watch when he felt a light tap on his arm and turned around to find her standing next to him.

"Are you sure you want to come?" he asked.

"Of course! I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't want to."

Mitsunari sneaked into the first bathroom in the ward and a moment later when he emerged he expected her to laugh or... something. Instead, she looked at him earnestly, her expression serious.

"Are you ready?" she asked before she reached to straighten out a hair on his wig. He gave a firm nod before he headed out towards his mother's room.

"Mitsunari!" He stopped when he heard his name and sighed before he turned around to greet one of the nurses. "I see you brought your girlfriend today, how nice of you. Why haven't you told us before you have a girlfriend?" the nurse winked at him and he resisted the urge to either roll his eyes or facepalm.

"We're friends," he said at the same time she bowed.

"Thank you for taking care of Mitsunari," she said aloud. It was the first time Mitsunari had heard her speak. He missed completely when she introduced herself, his mind focused only on the sound of her voice, on the way she slowly pronounced each word, on the melody of her voice and he couldn't help but want to hear her voice again and again. He wanted to hear what she sounded like when she was happy, when she was excited, when she was sad. He felt selfish in his want, but still, he wanted her to show all sides of herself to him.

Mitsunari tugged on her arm and bowed to the nurse, repeating his earlier words of them being just friends, but it didn't wipe the knowing smile from the nurse's lips.

Just when he was about to knock on the door of his mother's room, he felt her take a hold of his hand and give it a firm squeeze. He held her hand a bit tighter too and knocked on the door.

"Mother? It's me, Saki."

"Saki! My beautiful, darling Saki!" He heard her voice before he saw her.

"Mother, I brought a friend with me." He stepped inside and gently pulled her in with him and introduced her.

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs Ishida." She bowed and his mother beamed at them. He didn't even remember when he had seen her looking so happy.

"I'm so happy Saki brought a friend with her! Come here, sit." His mother patted the bed beside her. She glanced at him and when he nodded she sat beside her.

"Thank you."

She paid close attention to his mother, turning every now and then to him for clarification. He felt like his mother recited every embarrassing thing he had ever done, his face burning hot with embarrassment under the makeup. A small (well, a big) consolation was hearing her laugh aloud, something he hadn't heard since the day after he had rescued her from her ex.

When his mother started to look tired he got up and nudged her arm.

"I think we should go now, mother. I'll come back soon."

"Please bring your lovely friend again too! It warms my heart to know you have such a good friend."

"I'll have to ask her..." he mumbled giving his mother a hug.

When he took her hand to lead her outside he could feel her hand tremble. He glanced at her, but her expression was a calm, calculated mask. As soon as they were outside of the door he let go of her hand.

"Your hands are trembling."

"You're imagining things," she replied with a smile which didn't quite reach her eyes.

"But-" he started, but was cut off when she turned away from him.

"Excuse me..." she hurried to the nearest bathroom leaving him to stare after her. He was still staring at the door when she emerged a moment later her eyes red and puffy.

“Sorry...” she forced a smile and as much as he wanted to ask, he decided not to pry was probably the best option.

“I’ll go change. We could... You could come for tea... if you want.” How did people ask others to hang out? It was apparent he was terrible at it.

“I’d love to.” This time the smile she gave him was genuine.

Their trip at his place was mostly filled with comfortable silence. She leaned against his shoulder on the train, dozing off every now and then. He concluded she must be tired but didn’t want to pry the reason why. She would tell him if she wanted to.

When they reached his apartment, Hideyoshi was already there, half asleep watching YouTube videos in the living room.

“Oh, heeey... I didn’t think you’d be back yet, you okay?” he mumbled waving his hand at his general direction without turning around.

“We came to make some food.”

“We? I thought you went to- oh hi!” Hideyoshi turned around to look at them and as soon as he saw her he waved at them awkwardly.

He laid over the handrest of the sofa looking at them while they unloaded the groceries and prepared the food.

Mitsunari sighed and turned to look at Hideyoshi, who had a bright smile on his lips as soon as he looked at him. “Do you want something? If you don’t, stop staring like a starved puppy. The mutt next door does a good enough job on that already without your help.”

"I thought you'd never ask me to join! It smells so good."

Hideyoshi made the table and they sat down to eat.

"So, what were you up today?" Hideyoshi asked filling his bowl with food.

"None of your business."

"So it was a secret date!"

Mitsunari was just about to reply when she coughed and reached for a glass of water her face starting to turn an adorable shade of red.

"Are you okay?" he asked her when she managed to gulp down some water her face still bright red.

"Why does Monkey think we went on a secret date?"

Mitsunari felt his cheeks start to burn out of embarrassment too, her embarrassment only increasing his own.

"I don't know! Stop inventing stupid nicknames to my friends."

"Shut it Manju-boy! You better tell Monkey-boy he has it all wrong. We are friends, nothing else."

Mitsunari translated her words to Hideyoshi who had been grinning knowingly at their mutual blushing, but he couldn't help the pang in his heart at her flat out refusal of them being on a date.

It must be so terrible to her to even think him as a man after what she had seen of him today. After all, she knew of him.

She would never see him in any other way than as a friend and realising that hurt way more than he thought it would. It hurt so much for a while he couldn't even think straight, yet alone be a part of the conversation.

"Mitsunari, did you hear what I said?" Hideyoshi's words brought him back to himself and when he glanced at her, even she was staring at him with a small frown between her (very beautiful) brows.

"No, my mind was elsewhere."

"In the gutter, I imagine?" Hideyoshi winked at him but all he could do was roll his eyes.

"You had *something* to say, so spit it out."

"Um, yeah, Nobu wants us to go play Wii next Sunday, why don't you two come too?"

"And he expects us just happily spend a Sunday dealing with utter torture?"

"There will be free food! Nothing beats free food."

"Fine..." he grumbled and turned to her, but her eyes were already sparkling. "A friend of ours wants us to go play Wii at his place on Sunday. Do you want to come?"

"Only if I get the promised free food you were talking about!"

***

The next Sunday they found themselves in front of a grand downtown building where Nobunaga's personal apartment was. She was staring at it her mouth agape.

"Your friend lives here?"

"Yeah."

"Wow..."

She held onto his sleeve when they entered the building, her eyes wide at the sight of the doorman and the security.

When the doors opened at the top floor she was stunned. He had to nearly drag her forward to meet their host.

Not that that went any better. As soon as she saw Nobunaga, she yanked at his sleeve until he was sure it would rip off.

"That's- that's O-da No-bu-na-ga!"

"I know. Now stop pulling my sleeve!"

"But... how?"

"Blame Hi-de-yo-shi, he always wants to drag me along..."

"Wait how does Monkey know him?"

He was about to reply when Nobunaga seemed to get bored of not being a part of the conversation.

"The least you could do was to introduce her."

As soon has he had managed to introduce her, Hideyoshi, who had come at the same time with them leant towards Nobunaga with a conspirational grin.

"You know, she's Mitsunari's 'special friend'"

"Oh, is she now?" Nobunaga had an amused smile on his lips when he eyed her.

"Stop making it sound so dirty," he huffed at them and took her hand to lead her away from the two men determined to misunderstand their relationship.

They found Hanbei huddled at a corner already, his nose deep in a book. He didn't pay any attention to them so they sat on the sofa next to him. She was tense, eying her surroundings like a caged animal before she turned to him.

"Just... how? You do know he's very famous, right?"

"Yes. But Hi-de-yo-shi keeps dragging me along every time..."

"You're playing Wii with the famous O-da No-bu-na-ga..." she repeated it to herself as if to make sure she understood correctly. Suddenly, she lifted her head and grasped his arm. "How did he know who I was?"

"It was him who offered to let you stay in the guestroom in the house. It's only used when someone in the Oda family has important guests over."

"Wait what? I thought that was where miss Oichi lives?"

"No, she was just staying over so you wouldn't have to be alone."

She buried her head in her hands for a while before she looked at him again, a hints of despair in her expression.

"How can I ever repay them?"

"You don't have to. Everyone wanted to help."

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Even though it ate him alive he’d had to ask for their help there was no way he would tell her that. He would repay them as soon as possible.

The atmosphere relaxed as more people showed up. She didn’t leave his side until her gaze shifted to all of the snacks Nobunaga had brought out.

"What a nasty little piggy you have found for yourself."

There were people he’d be glad if he never had to see ever again. Tokugawa Ieyasu was one of them. Even the existence of him made Mitsunari’s skin crawl with disgust, let alone hearing whatever hideous thing he had to say. Why Nobunaga kept inviting the man was beyond him.

"Shut your mouth, filthy tanuki!" he spat back at Ieyasu, his eyes on her. She kept happily showing a snack after snack into her mouth until she glanced at him.

She froze, her eyes travelling from him to Hideyoshi and back at him.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing."

"Why won't you tell me?" She looked around the room, at everyone staring at them and she shrank back, averting her eyes to the floor. She made a quick bow and fled the room.

He followed her to the entrance hall, where she was desperately hitting the button to call the elevator, her face turned away from him so he couldn't see her expression. She cast a quick glance at him before she averted her eyes again and dug out her phone.

<i dnt blong hre ill jst go> <tll evry1 im sry>

The doors slid open and she took a step towards the elevator, but he took a hold of her arm to stop her. He needed... wanted to know what was wrong with her. Why did she suddenly decide to run away from him.

She froze, standing completely still. He slowly let go of her arm and she quickly hugged herself. He was at loss at what to do. He followed her to the elevator, but she kept her eyes on the door, completely ignoring his presence.

Had he done something wrong? If he had, he had no idea what it might be or why had she reacted the way she had.

When they reached the ground floor he followed her out of the elevator but reached for her arm again, this time just to gently touch her. She turned to look at him, tears glistening on her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away, her lips pursed to stop the quiver of her lower lip.

"What happened?" he asked. She took her phone and fiddled with it for a moment and soon he heard his phone alert him of a new message.

<i dnt blng>

She turned around to walk out of the door, but he reached for her again.

"What do you mean? Explain." She was just about to look at her phone again when he tapped on her arm again. "Talk to me."

She turned her head away from him and he was just about to reach for her arm again when the security guard interrupted them.

"Is everything alrigh, miss?" he asked. She jumped a bit and looked at his face, a small frown between her brows.

"...sorry...?" she whispered.

"Is everything alright, miss? Is this man bothering you? Do you need a taxi to get you home?"

"Thank you, we're fine," Mitsunari interrupted.

"I was talking to the young lady, sir." The security guard gave him a stern look. She looked from him to the security guard, her expression guarded.

"...fine... no... taxi..." she mumbled.

"Could we talk somewhere a bit more private?" Mitsunari asked the security guard, who pointed them at a bench at the side of the entrance hall, hidden from the view by a large plant. He guided her to sit down and sat next to her touching her hand gently to get her to look at him.

"Talk to me, please?"

"This... everything was a bad idea. I should have listened to Yoshi, I’ll never fit in..."

@masamunesmistress @han-pan @you-mass-effect-my-dragon-age @honeybeelily @dreamfar628

[junghelioseok]

Not sure if ur taking req.This came to me as I read catharsis, I loved their friendship.Ur hired as a choreographer for the group, & ur in Korea on a work visa.JK just gets you like no one else does. You are bff, then it turns romantic.U keep ur relationship secret, & when U travel with the group he always sneaks to ur hotel room. He wants to take the relationship public, but u know the company will fire you, & you need your work visa to stay in Korea (to stay with JK). happy ending please. 😊

so i don’t take requests, sorry! however i have also been thinking about this idea nonstop since i got it so! i’m gonna not ignore it for once and lay out exactly what i would do if i did write it (which i refuse to actually do bc more jk ideas is the absolute last thing i need, lolol).

that being said, if any of my writer friends want to take this on, please do so!!! and tag me in the finished fic bc i would read the hell out of this shit. i fucking love this idea and i need it to come to fruition one way or another. (but like, obviously you should take it in whatever direction you see fit. please don’t feel the need to follow my outline, lmao.)

anyway, without further ado, here is my abbreviated version of this, ft. the frankly absurd, stream-of-consciousness way i plan every fic i write, ahaha. 

let’s get it!!!

you weren’t ready

you weren’t ready when the email from bighit came, asking for your help choreographing the dances for love yourself: answer

(you thought it was a joke, tbh)

you weren’t ready to get a korean work visa on such short notice

and you definitely weren’t ready to actually live and work in a different country

two years of college-level korean and a month’s worth of nightly cram classes couldn’t have prepared you for life in seoul

and no amount of researching bts - whether that was binging music videos or going over every dance practice vid or repeatedly listening to the albums - could have prepared you for your first meeting with the boys

tbh you kinda thought they’d be jerks, being so wildly popular and whatnot

but you couldn’t have been more wrong

one month into your time at bighit, and you finally understand the undying adoration army has for the boys

they’re just seven big soft nerds in stupidly handsome bodies

you’ve been subjected to hundreds of dad jokes, courtesy of seokjin, and plenty of clingy hugs from jimin

you’ve grown to love hobi’s screaming laughter and yoongi’s quiet grumpiness

but no matter how well you get along with all of the boys, nothing compares to your budding friendship with jeon jungkook

admittedly it’d taken a while for him to get comfortable enough to speak to you directly, especially when namjoon isn’t around to act as a translator

and likewise, it took a while for you to become accustomed to speaking korean every day

but once you both get past the language barrier, it’s like you’ve known each other your entire lives

you bond over your mutual love of dancing, of music and flow and rhythm

and watching him dance is a dream

every move is the perfect mix of grace and power, and he’s a joy to teach choreo to

hardworking and perseverant and more than a little bit of a perfectionist

but so are you, and that just means that you spend plenty of late nights in the studio together

working through the bits of choreography that just aren’t clicking yet

prepping for the upcoming ly tour

helping him with the choreography for euphoria

you were shocked when he approached you about his solo stage instead of sungdeuk, but you can’t say you weren’t pleased that he trusts you

and the first time you heard him open his mouth and sing euphoria in person, you were blown away

after that, you spend even more time together in the studio, long after the other boys and sungdeuk have left

late night after late night, dancing and laughing and ordering takeout at 1am when you’re both starving and need a break

one night you’re both hanging out in golden closet, snacking on ice cream and fried food you know you’ll regret later, listening to the setlist and talking big picture stuff for the ly tour 

and jungkook suddenly pauses the music and pulls up a new, different audio file

“um, i’ve been working on something and i was wondering if you wanted to listen to it?”

surprise, it’s his mixtape

it’s a work in progress - just a short collection of songs and a few random snippets that he admits he’s been working on for almost a year now

but every single one is so heart-wrenchingly lovely and emotional

your eyes may or may not well up a little during the last song - a soft, sentimental ballad that has you longing for something you didn’t know was missing in your life

“jungkook… this is beautiful”

“… i wrote it for you”

“…”

what are you gonna do, not kiss him?

lmao unlikely!

so you kiss him. a lot.

and then you do a lot more than that

you end up straddling him in his chair, your knees on either side of his thighs as his hands curl around your waist and find their way under the hem of your shirt

it’s sweaty and hurried and he tastes like the strawberry ice cream that he was just eating but it’s perfect nonetheless

afterward you are both in a happy haze, your head leaning on his shoulder as he strokes your back fondly

but then reality comes crashing back down

“jungkook, oh my god, we can’t do this!”

“but noona”

“but nothing! i’m only here temporarily, and if word gets out that we’re dating i’ll be fired!”

it’s so hard to tear your gaze from those pretty doe eyes when they’re staring up at you so beseechingly, but somehow you find the strength to wrench away from him and out of golden closet

you can still hear him calling for you as you run away, but you don’t turn back and he doesn’t chase you

needless to say, things are a little awkward from that point forward

you still see him every day at rehearsals

but you stop having one-on-one sessions with him late at night and tell yourself that it’s for the best

the other boys aren’t dumb; they notice that something is amiss straight away

but they don’t press too hard and you’re grateful for that

just days later, the international part of the ly tour starts and you are all jetting off to north america

by that point, it’s been almost a week and a half since you’ve spoken more than two sentences to jungkook

and you have no intention of changing that anytime soon

you can feel his eyes boring into you on the plane and in the car on the way to the hotel

but you escape to your hotel room and don’t see him again until dress rehearsal later that night

they’re running through the setlist, and you can’t help but admire how he looks in casual clothes

no one else could pull off a matching gray puma tracksuit, tbh

but he can, and he’s got the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows to expose the rolex on his wrist

and his sweatpants are juuuust tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs

but! you’re a professional, and you can’t be looking at him with anything more than a critical eye so that’s what you do

even when he keeps glancing your way during euphoria

and stares right into your eyes as he nails the high note

afterward, you go onstage to give the boys your notes

you have a lot to say to hobi about just dance, and you can just feel jungkook’s hot gaze lingering on you the entire time

and then…

(thanks a lot for this shit, @puellaigmotum istg i have fucking nightmares about this bit of dialogue and it’s 10000% your fault)

… he corners you backstage

“noona, why are you paying so much attention to hobi-hyung… when i’m right here and ready to be on my knees for you”

he’s so close you can’t even fucking breathe by this point, his lips right at your ear and ruffling your hair with every word he speaks

when he begins kissing a trail along your jawline you finally regain control of your lungs 

and all you can manage is a shaky “jungkook, not here”

and you press the second copy of your hotel key into his hand

he comes over that night, of course

(and just like he promised, he does end up on his knees)

(head nestled between your thighs, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder to keep you spread open for him)

but a n y w a y

when you wake up in the morning, jarred awake by your alarm at far too early an hour, he is curled around you with one arm draped over your waist

he’s bleary and a little dazed and has the cutest bedhead you’ve ever seen

but when he sees you still in bed with him, his entire face splits into the brightest bunny smile

he pulls you in for a kiss and you could happily spend the rest of your life tucked away under the blankets there with him

but he’s got a concert to get ready for and both of you know it

the last rehearsal before the concert goes off without a hitch, and if anyone notices how you and jungkook are on good terms again, no one says anything about it

the concert is incredible. the boys smash it.

you are beaming when jungkook comes off the stage after his solo, ready with a bottle of water and a towel and plenty of congratulatory words

he beams right back, scooping you off your feet and twirling you in a full circle before putting you back down again

(his stylists are a little dismayed by the rumpled state of his clothes, but they can’t say much when namjoon destroys everyone’s outfits daily. they’re used to it.)

besides, all the staff can see just how happy he is around you

afterward, you all go out for a celebratory dinner, toasting to a successful tour kickoff

jungkook sits beside you and cracks inane jokes the entire time, and you spend the entire evening laughing your ass off with him

naturally, he finds his way back to your hotel room that night

and pretty much every night after, from la to hamilton to london

you’re in berlin when he first broaches the topic of taking your relationship public

“jungkook, we can’t! i’ll be fired!”

“no you won’t”

“how can you be so sure?”

“i’m negotiating my contract renewal right now, and i’m making sure that nothing prohibits me from dating. i want to be with you, noona.”

“but jungkook…”

“don’t you want to be with me?”

“yes, of course i do-”

“then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

he kisses you before you can speak again, and all your protests and arguments fly out of your head the moment his lips meet yours

the very next morning you agree to gradually make your relationship public, first to the other boys and then bang pd and the rest of the bighit staff

(most of them already knew though)

everyone’s happy for you, even the company higher-ups, because it’s so easy to see how happy jungkook is these days

(and like, lowkey, sungdeuk has already decided to spoil rotten any kids you may have in the future)

but no one is happier than you and jungkook

as soon as the tour ends, you extend your visa so that you can stay in korea longer with him

jungkook is yours and you are his, and life is good ♡

[forever-rogue]

Falling

Request: Can you please do Tom Hiddleston x y/n where they’re doing an interview for their new movie (Crimson Peak). The interviewer is asking y/n questions, while answering, she says “it’s really easy for him to make you believe he’s in love with you” and then at the end, backstage he tells you it was easy bc he’s actually in love with you (so sorry if this is too specific)

A/N: I always think Tom would just be such a doll all the time! I hope you guys enjoy! Taglists and Requests are open! xx

Pairing: Reader x Tom Hiddleston

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: so much fluff!

MASTERLIST

“So, what was it really like working with Tom?” the interviewer gave her a big smile as she looked between Y/N and Tom, both of whom had grins plastered on their own faces. Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up at the question. She always dreaded questions like this, fearing that they would discover her secret and out her real feelings to Tom.

“It was a lot of fun, there was definitely never a dull moment on set,” she replied leaning back in her chair, noticing how close his body was to her. She cleared her throat before continuing on, “but really, it’s been an amazing opportunity to work with someone who has a range like Tom. When you’re stuck working with someone so closely for so long it really makes it nice to have someone like him alongside you.”

“You speak very highly of your costar,” the interviewer laughed as she looked between the two of them, keenly aware of how intently Tom was watching Y/N and hanging onto her every word, “now I know this is your first time really doing a romantic film - was it harder to do this kind of role compared to others you’ve had?”

“It was a change of pace, to be sure,” she answered, casting a quick glance in Tom’s direction, “I thought it would be a lot harder, but it actually wasn’t too different. Plus it’s really easy for him to make you believe he’s in love with you, so going along with it was a snap.”

“Tom, what about you? What was it like working with Y/N? It’s both of your first times working together, correct?”

“Indeed it was,” he said in his smooth drawl as leaned forward in his seat and patted Y/N’s knee softly, “and I definitely hope it won’t be the last. You know, it’s hard to find someone you genuinely enjoy working with and then it all comes together, it’s really quite marvelous.”

“Well, I know I speak not just for myself but with everyone else, cannot wait to see the film,” she told the two of them as they nodded and thanked her in response, “it’s been lovely, thanks to the both of you for your time!”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled at her as she shook her hand and the two of them headed back stage. Tom followed behind her, hand on the small of her back. Once they were in private, she let out a long sigh of relief, “man that was a long one. I hope I came across well!”

“She was a talker,” Tom agreed, “but you did well, as always. Sometimes I wonder if they’re actually interested in the film, or more so about us.”

“You know how people are,” she rolled her eyes dramatically, “they love gossip and drama more than anything else. But I think we kept it from becoming a train wreck, don’t you?”

“I would agree,” he nodded as he looked at her intently for a few moments, “hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course Tom, you know you ask me anything,” she said as she tilted to her head to the side as she looked at him with mild suspicion.

“Yes, right, well-”

“Y/N!” they were suddenly interrupted by their handler, “Tom! We’ve got to get going, your next interview is coming up soon and we need to go!”

“Ugh, so many interviews,” she sighed as she gave him a light shrug of annoyance, “I guess we should go before they get too annoyed with us.”

“Wouldn’t want to do that,” he reluctantly agreed, “do you think we can continue this conversation later?”

“No problem,” she promised as she grabbed his hand and pulled him again with her, “now let’s go before we get yelled at!”

Y/N and Tom were stuck doing interviews for the rest of the afternoon. Each one grew progressively more redundant and repetitive the longer the afternoon went on. It seemed that, indeed, most reporters and members of the press were mostly interested in their personal relationship. They kept throwing pointed questions at both Y/N and Tom, but they just smiled and kept things strictly professional.

Anytime they had a moment to breathe and collect themselves, Tom attempted to approach Y/N and speak his peace to her. The moments were fleeting however, and he grew increasingly frustrated as the day wore on. Y/N sensed that something was off about him, but couldn’t quite place it.

As they were being shuffled to their next to last interview of the day, Tom decided he was done trying to get a word in edgewise and was determined to just go for it, “Y/N?”

“Yes, Thomas?” She asked as they waited backstage, getting ready to go on at any moment. He smiled at her before crossing his arms and adopting a serious expression.

“Listen, what I was attempting to get across earlier-”

“Y/N! Tom! You’ve got 2 minutes before some time,” Y/N waved a hand in acknowledge at the stagehand. Tom sighed as he nervously ran a hand over his beard.

“Go on,” she encouraged him.

“Back in that earlier interview, you said it was easy for me to make it seem like I was in love with you,” he started, and Y/N wondered where he was taking this. Was he making fun of her?

“Tom, I don’t know follow,” she said with a confused expression.

“You guys, it’s time to go on!” Y/N looked at Tom with an apologetic expression.

“Y/N. I have to get this off of my chest or I’ll never say it,” he reached for her arm and stopped her from walking onto the stage, “Y/N, it’s been easy to make it seem like I’m in love with you because I am I am in love with you.”

“What?!” She asked as she was sure her jaw dropped and hit the floor. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, “I love you, Y/N L/N.”

“Guys! You need come on stage now!” They were drawn out of their conversation and back to reality as the stage hand hissed at them.

“Let’s go, we’ll discuss this afterwards,” Tom promised as he took her and pulled her along with him to the stage. Y/N was dumbfounded and just blindly followed him.

“Ladies and gentlemen: Y/N L/N and Tom Hiddleston!” The cheering from the audience was deafening, but everything seemed so far away as she processed what Tom had told her. How was she supposed to act normal when he had just confessed his love to her?!

The whole time the two of them were on stage with the interviewer, Y/N’s mind was anywhere but on the questions they were being asked. Luckily enough, most of the questions were targeted at Tom and Y/N could just smile and nod at the appropriate times. Her mind was in a haze the whole time until-

“Y/N?” She blinked a few times as she snapped back into reality. She looked at the interviewer in surprised as she let out a minuscule sound of surprise.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She asked as she tried to sound like she had been somewhat invested in what had been going on.

“I was asked what it was like playing Tom’s love interest?”  She repeated with a bemused smile on her face. Y/N felt her cheeks heating up but cleared her throat nonchalantly.

“It was an amazing experience,“ she said as she snuck a quick glance at Tom, “he’s a really talented actor and I think a lot of us would be lucky to enough have a fraction of the talent he has. It was a lot of fun and when you have a whole crew and cast that get along so well it makes it even better.”

“Was it hard to pretend to be in fall with someone, did it take some getting used to?” Of course the interviewer would ask that.

“No, it wasn’t too bad at all. He’s really easy to get along with and I think we clicked well, and I hope that translated just as well in the film,” Y/N worked her way around the question as best as she could. The interviewer gave her a smile before turning her attention back to Tom. Y/N didn’t mind at all, and continued to get lost in her thoughts. 

As soon as the interviewer thanked them for their time, Y/N practically rushed back stage, trying to catch her breath and clear her thoughts, Tom struggling to keep up with her.

“Y/N!” Tom said as he reached for her hand and she looked at him with an unreadable expression, “are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” She asked in an amused tone. How would he have felt if she had just confessed she loved before they went on!?

“Y/N,” he interrupted her but she kept on rambling, trying to get out a coherent sentence. She wasn’t making any sense, so he decided to stop her by leaning forward and kissing her softly. It definitely got her attention; she stopped trying to speak and kissed him back. It wasn’t the first time they had done, no, they had probably done it at least several dozen times before, those just happened to be in front of the camera. But somehow kissing him in private, no on around watching, was even better, “now I’ve finally gotten your attention.”

“I-ugh-Oh,” she said as she ran a hand thorough her hair, “you got my attention to say the least. Thomas William Hiddleston, you can’t just say something like that right before we go on stage. I’ve gone and made a fool of myself!”

“Y/N, I had to say it, otherwise who knows when I would have gotten the chance,” he said as he touched her cheek gently. She blushed but leaned into his touch nonetheless, “and you were anything but a fool.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d had plenty of times and opportunities to tell me before you silly man,” she chuckled at him, “we’ve been stuck working together for quite some time.”

“I know,” he agreed, “but I wasn’t sure how you felt about me and I would have made a pretty big fool out of myself if I had told you how I felt if you didn’t reciprocate the feelings.”

“What made you finally realize I felt the same?”

“I had inklings that you might have,” he admitted and she groaned at her transparency, “but earlier told you pretty much all but confirmed it during that first interview this morning.”

“But I didn’t admit to anything,,” she said as tried to thing back on earlier in the day.

“You didn’t have to, but I could tell,” he said as he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I know you well enough by now, Y/N. I knew I had to take my chances. It was now or never.”

“Oh,” she said as she shook her head at herself, “well I’m glad you did. I don’t know if I ever would have.”

“And why not?” He asked her gently and she looked down at the floor in mild embarrassment.

“It’s silly really,” she admitted, “I would just never assume someone like you would ever like someone like me. You’re so accomplished, worldly, and sophisticated. Meanwhile I’m over just...me.”

“And? You’re just as amazing as you think I am,” he reassured her, “trust me, darling you’re absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She looked at Tom’s bright blue eyes, and could see that he wasn’t lying. How could someone as wonderful as him fall for her? Whatever the reason was, she decided she wasn’t going to question it. She gave him a small smile, before deciding to be bold and plant a kiss on him in return. He smiled into her kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist in the moment.

“Wow,”  he said when they pulled apart for some air, “I’m hoping we can do that more often?”

“I think that can definitely be something we do,” she agreed, “it’s even better in real life than in the movie.”

“That’s probably because we don’t have people watching our every move, and cheering,” he suggested.

“Probably, but you know, sometimes the cheering was nice,” she said with a shrug and they both shared a laugh.

“Let me ask you one more question for you, if I may?”

“Anything, Tom.”

“Will you do me the favor of having dinner with me this evening?” She couldn’t believe her luck. She had spent plenty of time with Tom, but this was all different and seemed new again. They were finally getting to be with each other, one on one and in private. 

“I would like nothing more,” she agreed happily, “but just promise me one thing, Thomas.”

“What would that be?”

“Never tell me big bombshells like that again right before an interview. Next time I won’t be as forgiving,” she said as she gently hit him on his arm. He let out an amused chuckle but nodded and promised.

“I’ll just make sure to kiss you,” he shrugged lightly. Y/N was definitely not going to argue with that suggestion.

Permanent Taglist: @ruinerofcheese @courtneychicken  @santa-crew @supernatural508 @ssweet-empowerment @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @wearegoldeninthenight @mannatgalhotra @prxttybirdz @piensa-bonito @mightyhemsworthy @shewalksinanotherworld @jems8241 @bookaddic @fairyxxfighter @asguardiansoftheavengers @esoltis280 @the-bright-lights @artisticlales @loislp @dixonsbugaboo @sleepylunarwolf @patzammit

[feynites]

Scum Villain AU

Welp, fell down a rabbit hole of translations for novels written by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and my brain would not let go of the idea for a Scum Villain sharkbait AU. I blame @pyrrhy also for being a fantastic enabler.

So, this is a thing now! But first, on Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, the general synopsis is that a book reviewer dies suddenly with his last thoughts being of how unsatisfied he was with the harem/stallion novel he just finished reading. He finds himself subsequently transported into the body of a minor ‘scum’ villain from said book, with the task of fixing/improving the story. Of course, the character he’s currently been cast as was, in the original novel, dismembered and killed by the protagonist.

In the interests of not having that happen, our intrepid hero immediately starts trying to suck up to the protagonist. He does a good job. In fact he does such a good job that the protagonist ends up falling in love with him, and therein lies the core of the story’s shenanigans.

If you wanna read the translations, it’s ongoing here at bc novels. For other works by the same author, there’s Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi, which also has an animated series) over here at Exiled Rebels Scanlations, and Heaven’s Official Blessing is being translated here at Sakhyulations. Translating is hard work so if you read and enjoy any of ‘em, it’s nice to consider donating to the sites, too!

Some of the above stories definitely fall into problematic pitfalls of the slash genre, though. While I am a big fan of the pacing and storytelling Mo Xiang Tong Xiu pulls off and love her characters, I’ve been forewarned on some issues too. As I’m still reading my way through I can’t give my personal assessment on a lot of that stuff or offer more in-depth warnings for everything. But it should probably be mentioned.

Warnings For This Fic in Particular: At the outset of our story, Uthvir is underage. No romance is gonna take place while they are, but when they meet Thenvunin is an 18 year-old posing as their teacher, and Uthvir is 15. This is a slow burn. I also follow the original plot points of the story pretty closely but change up the order/direction of some things, too.

Additional Notes: In the original novel, the story that the lead character gets sucked into is a fantasy/cultivation novel hybrid with elements from a whole thwack of other genres, too. I’m leaning more heavily into the fantasy stuff because I don’t have much experience with cultivation novels, just for reference, but it should be noted that a lot of the story elements draw expressly from Chinese culture and I can take no credit for them - just in case anyone who’s totally new to these genres reads along. Also, I took some liberty with the names of things, because just throwing in Chinese words seemed unfitting and I’m not following the entire script on world-building elements. (Plus, in the novel, the story’s author is notoriously bad at naming things anyway.)

Alright, my apologies for the huge stack of notes/explanations! Please enjoy reading. The characters Calain and Jhe’andal (not seen in this chapter but bound to appear later) belong to @pyrrhy, who’s graciously loaned them to me so I can mess around.

“Stupid author, stupid novel!”

  Thenvunin was not entirely surprised that those ended up being the last words he uttered in life. Though he is rather regretful about it. But at the time, processing the sudden failure of his ongoing health treatments had been harder than just fixating on the fact that, probably, the last book he was ever going to read in his life had been that terrible trainwreck of a harem fantasy novel.

  That popular disaster of a book, ‘Immortal Demon Way’. With records broken on copies sold, but most critics more or less agreeing that it was mindless dreck. Except, the problem was, it wasn’t really ‘mindless’ dreck. There had been parts that were really promising. That was the real tragedy of the entire mess. The story had plenty of interesting side-characters and concepts, some intriguing world-building, even the promise of genuinely engaging content. But all of it had been tethered to a truly terrible main plotline. A black hole of a plot that managed to be boring and offensive by turns, even if the protagonist did manage to come across as somewhat compelling once in a blue moon.

  Because ‘Immortal Demon Way’ was pure self-indulgent trash. The leading character, Uthvir, was one of those characters whose tragic life led them onto a dark path of retribution and conquest. Despite being pure-hearted in their youth, the constant mistreatment from people around them eventually blackened their heart, until they were the sort of person who wear a friendly smile while torturing a man to death. And naturally, over the course of the story, they managed to accumulate a truly massive harem, all filled with beautiful women. Even though the author - writing under an anonymous pen name of ‘Half-Demon Prince’, had come out and said that the character wasn’t exclusively attracted to women - that claim never manifested in the actual text. Which made the whole gesture feel quite performative.

  Honestly, Thenvunin probably would have never picked up the book if he didn’t need to review it for the site he worked for. He’d never been fond of harem works, where the hero collects love interests like they’re filling up a basket of flowers. It had less to do with the numbers involved, and more to do with the sheer fact that more love interests usually meant less development on any particular relationship. Plus, inevitably, there would be scheming plotlines within the harem, and Thenvunin had never liked reading about women causing one another to miscarry or murdering each other’s babies to try and keep ahead in ranking. Luckily, ‘Immortal Demon Way’ hadn’t included a lot of such content, and what was there had been easy to skip. Enough so that Thenvunin had found himself speed-reading most of the ‘romantic’ parts. A sure sign of failure, given that romance was his actual preferred genre.

  But yes, all in all, ‘Immortal Demon Way’ was one of those stories he would have been happy not to think about ever again. And instead, it had ended up being his last thought in life.

  Well…

  In his old life, at any rate.

  But somehow, after he had died, he had found himself hearing an odd robot voice in his mind. Sort of like one of those automatic screen-readers.

  <Request processed… final request accepted… Welcome, Participant, to the ‘Immortal Demon Way’ project! Your dying wish has granted you access to this system. Starting points are tabulated at 100. Story goals - to improve the overall quality, reduce plotholes, and revitalize interesting conceptual material that was overshadowed by [Garbage Main Plotline.] This system is now receptive to inquiries.>

  W. ..what…?

   “...What’s going on?” Thenvunin had asked.

  The obvious question, really. He had felt panicked, or rather, like he should be panicked, but also like everything he could feel was very far away. Shock? He’d gone into shock before. It was a similar sensation, but not exact. But then again, there could be a lot of variables with that sort of thing. Everywhere around him just looked blurry, and pale. As if he was standing in a very modern office and wearing smudged glasses. He wondered if he’d survived after all, and if this latest disaster in his health had damaged his eyes so badly.

  It was a chilling thought. Or, it should have been.

  <Participant has been accepted for the currently-operating ‘Immortal Demon Way’ project. Activation words ‘stupid author, stupid novel’. Combined with a death wish, the pathways have been opened up for Participant’s consciousness to be transferred to the world of ‘Immortal Demon Way’.>

  World? What world?

  “I don’t understand,” Thenvunin said. “Am I in the hospital? Where’s my mother?”

  That last question was perhaps more embarrassing than he would have liked, but it didn’t seem as if he was feeling embarrassment too keenly, either. And his mother always came whenever he was hospitalized. Thenvunin was only eighteen, and had been sick all of his life. Naturally, his mother worried a great deal about him, and the hospital staff knew to inform her whenever he had a serious incident.

  <Participant has been accepted for the currently-operating ‘Immortal Demon Way’ project. Participant is currently being housed in a waiting room. Acceptance of admittance will trigger consciousness-transfer to feasible candidate for accomplishing compatible story goals. Refusal will result in immediate transference back to the participant’s native world. WARNING: Refusal not recommended. Participant’s corporeal status in native world has been determined: Deceased. Probable outcome of refusal is fatality.>

  Deceased…?

  Thenvunin reeled, and even with his current level of detachment, struggled to process it all. He tried asking the “system” more questions, but none of them seemed to garner satisfactory answers. Asking who had created it didn’t get him anywhere. Nor did asking how it knew anything about him. Asking what this whole ‘Immortal Demon Way’ project was just prompt a repeat of the ‘story goals’ - it sounded like he was being moved into a story in order to fix it? Like a sort of virtual reality?

  He had a great deal of trouble processing the whole concept.

  But then, there didn’t seem to be anything for him to do but accept it in the end, either. It could all be a trick, but, Thenvunin did remember dying. Or something that felt close enough to it that he couldn’t bring himself to take that risk. He was afraid of dying; afraid enough that he could feel it, even as he drifted in that strange ‘waiting room’.

  It was a feeling that followed him as he woke up in another strange room. But this time it was one he could see. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt like he had a terrible headache. The room around him definitely wasn’t a hospital, however. As he sat up, he could see sunlight streaming through several beautiful, open windows. The air smelled fresh, like the mountains he had visited once, before his father left. He sits up to find himself laid out in a comfortable bed, with a clothe on his brow, and a very light but comfortable robe on his body. The pale green fabric is the same colour as his eyes, but he only stares at it for a moment before his attention is arrested by something else.

  His body.

  Which is… definitely not his body.

  There’s a curtain of long, wavy hair falling down past his shoulders. His chest is broad and… chiseled? How could he possibly have a chiseled chest? And his arms are muscular, and long, and utterly devoid of the scars he had gotten from his car crash eight months ago, when he had tried to drive himself to the hospital and veered into a lamppost instead. Thenvunin is almost too shocked to move, but after a moment, he finds himself hurriedly pushing back the blankets and looking at the rest.

  His legs - !

  His legs look… they look good! Moreover, as he moves, he’s startled to realize that he doesn’t feel any pain. None at all, apart from his headache. Under other circumstances he would assume he was on some heavy painkillers, but obviously, this might not even be the case? He moves his legs and marvels at the ease of it, swivels his hips and feels nothing, and after a minute he cannot help but leap out of bed and begin jumping around, amazed and entranced…

  …And more than a little disconcerted. This body is totally, completely different from his own. He looks down at it and intellectually knows that he’s inside of it, but it scarcely feels that way. After a few minutes of either celebrating or panicking, or possibly both, Thenvunin finally locates a full-body mirror next to a dressing station in one corner of the room.

  He stares uncomprehendingly at himself.

  His eyes are the same, and his hair is the same - if somewhat longer, he thinks - and there’s a certain congruity between his facial features. But the man staring back at him is undeniably, completely different. He looks both strong and elegant, somehow. More muscular than Thenvunin would have ever idealized himself as, but the strength in those muscles is making him feel slightly giddy as he moves. And he’s tall. He’s not stooping over in the least, not struggling to keep his shoulders straight, feeling no pain from his surprisingly trim waistline…

  It can’t be him!

  He’s still trying to reconcile the idea when he realizes he has no clue who this character is, either. From the system, he gathered that he was going to be transported into an existing character’s body. But there are a few who might match the description of this one, and even more who were mostly undescribed. The only thing he knows for certain is that he is not Uthvir; they would not be so tall.

  Right?

  System, who am I supposed to be?

  <Congratulations on beginning your Death Wish Journey! Participant’s assigned designation is: Thenvunin Thenerassan. Status is: Project Virgin. Would you like some Beginner Tips?>

  He freezes in place, at the sound of the response which he can somehow tell is purely in his own mind.

  Did the system just call him a virgin…?

  How would it know?!

  Although it seemed to know everything. Thenvunin paused in embarrassment, before the rest of the message finally registered. His character is Thenevunin Thenerassan…?

  Wait, ‘Thenerassan’? That villain? The corrupt instructor who was always taking time to abuse and harass Uthvir, when they were still young and full of hope for the future? He’d never even realized the character had a first name! Though admittedly, he hadn’t read all of the author’s shared notes and ‘tidbits’ on social media. For a moment he is thoroughly offended. How dare this horrible character share his name!

  And then he remembers.

  Thenerassan…

  Thenerassan dies in this story!

  And not peacefully, oh no. After years of abusing Uthvir and then finally betraying them utterly at the grand tournament, the hero comes back seeking vengeance, with their heart blackened and ruthless. They utterly decimate Thenerassan’s reputation, until there is no one on earth who would pity him, and eventually end up taking him prisoner. Then they cut off his limbs, one by one, and blind him, and use their demonic blood to torture him until he can finally take no more and expires.

  And Thenvunin himself had once visited the story’s forums to express disappointment that this character wasn’t castrated, too. Considering everything he had done.

  He feels faint, going white as a sheet while he stares in the mirror. So consumed with terror that he doesn’t even hear the door to the room opening.

  “Brother?” an unfamiliar voice calls.

  Thenvunin whips his head around, and freezes in place. A new kind of fear gripping him, as he looks at this unfamiliar person. Presumably a character in the story. For half a heartbeat, he’s almost afraid that it’s Uthvir, come to drag him off for torture and death. But then his mind catches up with him. No, this is… that wouldn’t be right. This place, based on the descriptions, must be Thenerassan’s chambers on Quiet Peak temple. The author of ‘Immortal Demon Way’ had only very loosely followed the structure of a ‘cultivation’ novel, taking grand liberties with the various stages and processes of most established works. The Peaks, as he recalled, were little more than supernatural stomping grounds; like elite clubs for people who had attained immortality through cultivating their internal energies, and becoming incredible fighters.

  If he is at Quiet Peak, then he mustn’t be at a point in the story where this character has been ruined, yet. But that’s only one relief; he still finds himself looking at a concerned face he doesn’t recognize.

  “...Yes?” he finally ventures.

  The stranger comes into the room. He is a man. Handsome. Long dark hair, pretty brown eyes, middle-dark complexion. He could be any number of a dozen characters, really, but Thenvunin supposes he could narrow it down to the ones populating Quiet Peak. It was an early part of the story, so one he remembers fairly well.

  Before he can latch onto a guess, though, the stranger pauses and gives him an assessing look.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asks. “Your disciples said you collapsed out of nowhere on the practice fields. Compassion took a look at you but couldn’t see any problem, either with your health or internal mystic energies. She advised that we let you rest…”

  “Ah,” Thenvunin says. “Um. Well. Yes, I… fainted.”

  The stranger raises an eyebrow.

  “You fainted? Have you been neglecting yourself in some way, brother?” he asks. He seems cordial enough, which further limits the possibilities for who he could be. Dark hair, brown eyes, friendly enough to check in on the unlikable Thenerassan’s health…

  “...Venavismi?” he ventures.

  The man blinks.

  “Yes?” he asks.

  Oh thank goodness.

  “I. Um. I seem to be… not feeling well…” he says. It feels like an odd thing to say, since technically speaking, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so well before in his life. He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a soft ‘bing’ inside his head, though.

  <Warning: Impending Out of Character Behaviour Alert. Current Participant has OOC Restriction Locks still in place. OOC Restriction Locks can be removed once Achievement: Character Development has been obtained.>

  Thenvunin freezes in place again.

  What?

  <Please specify query.>

  What are OOC Restriction Locks?!

  <OOC Restriction Locks are a branch of Participant Autonomy Limitations. Violating locks will result in points penalties relative to the degree of violation.>

  Meaning… if he behaves out of character, he’ll be penalized?

  But Thenerassan is a monster! Thenvunin can’t act like that. It would be beyond the pale! And besides, how can he possibly change anything in this story if he has to act like an amoral reprobate the entire time? No, wait. There was more, wasn’t there?

  What’s ‘Achievement: Character Development’?

  <Certain limitations will be removed by the system once achievements have been obtained. To obtain Achievement: Character Development, Participant must earn points by completing actions that fall within the parameters of Participant’s behaviour as well as Character: Thenerassan’s.>

  What?! How am I supposed to do that, I’m nothing like that wretch!

  Thenvunin is still in the process of thinking furiously in his mind when Venavismi seems to decide that he must be rattled. He’s accustomed enough to being handled by nurses that being steered back towards his bed barely registers in his mind, until he finds himself being settled onto the mattress again.

  “...more rest, brother,” Venavismi is saying, genially. He seems to be about as nice as the impression his character gave off, in the story. Thenvunin always felt rather badly about his death. Which… he suddenly recalls, was Thenerassan’s fault. Retaliating in a fury after the accusations against him had landed, he had killed the first people who attempted to apprehend him, only for Uthvir to swoop in and put a stop to him. One of them had been Venavismi. Decapitated, as he recalls…

  He feels an inexplicable rush of shame. Not that he’s responsible for Thenerassan’s actions, but, well…

  “Thank you,” he says. “You are a very upright person, Venavismi, even if you can make terrible jokes sometimes.”

  <OOC Restriction Lock Violation. Point deduction, -15.>

  What? Just for saying ‘thank you’?!

  <Character: Thenerassan would not thank Venavismi without ulterior motive. -5 Deduction. Character: Thenerassan would not compliment Venavismi without ulterior motive. -5 Deduction. Character: Thenerassan would also not display weakness in front of a potential rival. -5 Deduction. Deductions reduced by 50% due to mitigating factor: Plausible Disorientation.>

  Internally, Thenvunin fumes. Plausible?! He is most certainly disoriented, of course he is!

  But Venavismi does look very surprised.

  “Um. Thank you, brother…?” he ventures. “I think I had better get another healer to attend to you. Do you remember hitting your head on anything when you collapsed?”

  “Of course not, I don’t even remember collapsing!” Thenvunin snaps, flustered and unhappy with having lost points. Even though he doesn’t know what the points mean. He lets Venavismi bow his way out of the room, the atmosphere awkward and disconcerting, and then finally just drops his head into his hands.

  What do all these points even mean, System?

  <Would you like to see Beginner’s Tips?>

  …Yes. Yes, I would, if that will explain this whole confusing mess!

  <Beginner’s Tips have been activated! Additional Mode: Character File Recognition has also been activated. New characters will now appear with their names provided by the system, in the event that Character: Thenerassan would be able to recognize them. For a cost of an additional 100 points, Easy Mode may be activated. Warning: current point levels insufficient to make payment. Regarding point system: actions furthering project goals generate points. Lock violations or insufficient story progress will incur penalties. Negative point status will result in Participant’s ejection from the project.>

  Ejection from the project…?

  In other words, then, if his points go into the negatives, he’ll be sent back home.

  Where he’s… dead.

  And what happens if I die during the course of this project? He wonders, thinking of the chilling prospect of Thenerassan’s canonical fate.

  Death of the Participant will result in ejection from the project.

  So… death, again.

  Thenvunin lets out a shaky breath.

  He would… yes, he would definitely rather avoid that, all things considered. But by the time a healer - whose name Thenerassan apparently would not have bothered to know - comes to his chambers, he doesn’t feel much closer to regaining his equilibrium.

   ~

   Thenvunin takes an entire day to rest from his ‘mysterious illness’. In the evening, one of his disciples comes with something more substantial for him to eat. Desire, or ‘Squish’, as the narrative had nicknamed her. She is a pleasant girl, and a teenager, though how old she exactly is would depend on when he’s arrived on this scene. Assuming it’s prior to Uthvir’s descent into hell, she could be anywhere between fourteen and nineteen. Thenerassan - the original - had lusted after this girl, behaving inappropriately the entire time. Seeing the girl come into his rooms, Thenvunin is appalled twice-over by that particular story element. Here Thenerassan was supposed to be her mentor, but he had scarcely seemed to teach her anything except that authority figures weren’t to be trusted! And then she had joined Uthvir’s harem, all full of scandals and intrigue, and… admittedly, Thenvunin had rather lost track of her character after that.

  He didn’t recall her has terribly complex. Mostly just sweet, and devoted, a simple ‘childhood friend’ style love-interest. Though he’s surprised when she comes in, and he notices that she lacks the typical ‘dainty’ appearance of such a girl. Instead she is heavy-set and… well, fat. With a round face and broad nose, and a tumble of curly dark hair. She is still quite beautiful, and obviously more than strong enough to handle the training at the peak, but Thenvunin doesn’t recall imagining her this way at all from her description.

  Then again, Half-Demon Prince, the author, hadn’t been as typically prone to describing the female characters’ measurements and ‘charms’ as most writers in the genre. There had been a lot of fanart… perhaps the standard interpretation of this character was based more on a popular fanartist’s work, than on all the possibilities contained in her description?

  But then, why should the ‘project’ choose an atypical interpretation, rather than the most common one?

  He supposes that all has to do with how the system even works, and on that front, it has remained entirely silent.

  “Teacher, will this meal do?” Squish asks him. Respectful, but a little distant.

  It suddenly strikes Thenvunin - Squish was Uthvir’s only childhood friend. The protagonist. If he is to survive this ordeal, it seems absolutely paramount that Uthvir not want to kill him.

  “This meal is fine,” he says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He focuses intently on Squish’s face. “Tell me, how old are you this year?”

  For a moment, he’s almost afraid that the system will tell him that was out-of-character. But it remains silent, and Squish’s expression turns somewhat reluctant.

  “Sixteen,” she tells him.

  Sixteen… which makes Uthvir fifteen. Three years. Thenvunin has three years to undo Uthvir’s hatred of him. But this also means that Uthvir has already spent two years around the Original Thenerassan. Being bullied, being starved, being beaten, being left out in the cold… Thenvunin pales at the thought of all the rampant child abuse. His only, minor consolation is that Thenerassan hadn’t liked to dirty his own hands. He had preferred to simply encourage the other disciples’ bullying, or to dole out punishments that simply resulted in Uthvir’s misfortune, by doing things like handing out complicated assignments too close to curfew. The other Thenerassan had been concerned with appearances, at least, and the reputation of his sect. It was probably the only reason why he hadn’t just immediately tossed his poor disciple off the mountain.

  “My parents have said that they will outright refuse all petitions for my hand until I am twenty,” Squish says, jarring Thenvunin out of his thoughts.

  He blinks at her.

  “Sensible of them,” he replies.

  <OOC Restriction Lock Violation. Point deduction, -5.>

  Oh, for-!

  He doesn’t bother to ask what that is about, realizing in a rush of nausea that this interaction must seem like he is digging into his student’s personal business to figure out if he can browbeat her family into handing her over to him. What a sick man the original truly was! He has to fight the urge to clarify things, knowing it will only cost him at the moment.

  How many points do I have left? He wonders.

  He isn’t entirely addressing the system, but it answers for him anyway.

  <Current point total: 80>

  Since he got here, he’s only managed to lose points…

  Squish stares mildly back at him. He lets out a breath.

  “Do you know where Disciple Uthvir is?” he asks, attempting to sound as neutral as possible. Neutral cannot really be out of character, right? If Thenerassan was always spitting furious every time he mentioned Uthvir’s name, surely the other mentors at the peak would have had to notice?

  Thankfully, that assessment seems correct, as there is no warning or ‘ding’.

  Squish’s expression turns wary.

  “They’re still doing the tasks you assigned them this morning,” she replies. “They’ve been working as hard as they can.”

  Thenvunin purses his lips. Scowling, but not at his student; he’s just trying to figure out how he can start to repair things, when one of the most concrete aspects of Thenerassan’s character was his ardent hatred of all things Uthvir.

  “Send them here,” he decides.

  <Warning->

  How can it be OOC? This is entirely self-serving! He argues. If I don’t get on Uthvir’s good side, I’ll die horribly. If the original Thenerassan knew that, don’t you think he’d start being nicer, too?

  <Beginner Tip: motives attributed solely to the Participant will not be considered in assessments of OOC Lock violations. Participant must also be advised of total points devaluation in the event of Character Identity Compromise. Revealing Participant’s nature as a transplanted outsider to non-Participant individuals within the project will result in Total Project Reset and ejection of all current participants.>

  Thenvunin swallows.

  The food on the lovely tray in front of him makes him slightly nauseous. Squish looks suspicious, but after a moment, she can only nod obediently and leave to go get Uthvir. She looks as though she might say something to him, for a moment. But after a moment passes, she only shakes her head, and then leaves.

  So now he needs to think of something that the original Thenerassan would do, that will put a stop to all these abuses - or at least, begin to - without losing him any further points. He has no idea how difficult it will be to regain points, since he hasn’t gained any so far. And that ‘Easy Mode’ that the system mentioned before seems like the sort of thing he might like to unlock, but he’s definitely not going to do so when it will bring his point total remotely close to 'zero'.

  By the time Uthvir shows up, the food has gone cold, but Thenvunin thinks he might have happened on a solution. He has moved from his rest bed to his desk, unable to sit still. But he finds himself somewhat frozen again when he finally sees them.

  Uthvir.

  The terrible demonic tyrant who will eventually slaughter hundreds. Who will build a massive harem of beautiful lovers, all vying for their affections. The sharp, dangerous, deadly protagonist of ‘Immortal Demon Way’.

  …But, they’re just a child.

  Or a teenager, but Thenvunin’s a legal adult and feels very adult compared to the tiny figure who walks into his chambers. They’ve cut their hair, he notes. He forgets what age they did that at in the story, but thinking on it, it probably wasn’t long after they arrived on the peak. Their uniform is ill-fitting but clean, pulled from standard storage. They have large, red eyes, and soft features. Really, they look younger than fifteen.

  But what catches most of his attention is the large blemish on the top of their cheek, and the ugly cut at the corner of their jaw.

  Thenvunin stares at them while they shift in place. Waiting to see what kind of torment he has in store for them, no doubt.

  I can’t do this. How can I be cruel to a child?

  <Warning: Impending Out of Character Behaviour Alert.>

  After a moment, Thenvunin clears his throat, and reminds himself of his plan. He makes certain his features retain a cold look, with great effort, as he reaches into a pocket of his robes, and retrieves a little jar of healing salve that the healer left with him. Uthvir’s wary expression does not abate as he tosses it to them; but with their reflexes, of course they catch it.

  “It is disgraceful for one of my disciples to go around looking like that,” he declares, lifting his chin and pursing his lips to keep from saying anything else. Poor thing, poor thing, oh you poor little thing… “From now on, there will be no more transgressions to call my good character and teaching into question.”

  Uthvir seems to pale at his assertions.

  “Teacher,” they say, hurriedly. “Please don’t turn me out. I swear, I will not - I will not provoke them anymore. I know I have been slow at learning how not to, but I think I have made progress... I will redouble my efforts! Please, I have nowhere else to go...”

  Thenvunin frowns at their fright, before realizing that Uthvir does not recognize what the healing salve is; they probably think he’s conjuring up an excuse to kick them out of the sect. But even Thenerassan couldn’t really do that - despite his best efforts, Uthvir’s acceptance onto the mountain was the doing of Mana’Din, the Peak Leader.

  “Don’t be foolish,” he snaps, and they fall immediately silent. “Do you not even know what a healing salve looks like?”

  The OOC Warning remains mercifully silent, but Thenvunin feels like he is dying on the inside.

  Uthvir stares uncomprehendingly down at the little jar he gave them.

  “This… is healing salve?”

  They don’t even know what it looks like! I can smell it from here, but they’re clueless?! They’ve never seen it before?!

  Come to that, Thenvunin hadn’t seen it before, either. But apparently he still has some sense memories from the Original… which would also explain why his coordination isn’t completely shot, even if he still feels like a ghost sitting in someone else’s body.

  Uthvir doesn’t have the excuse of transporting themselves between worlds, though. They should know what a salve smells like even better than he does. Or they would, if Half-Demon Prince hadn’t given them such a reprehensibly deprived childhood. The realization makes his heart crack in half.

  “I expect you to use it,” he says.

  He braces himself…

  At the ominous ‘ding’ in his mind he nearly dies inside; but to his surprise, the system’s tone isn’t its usual ‘points deducted’ one. It takes him a moment to really register what it’s saying.

  <Congratulations! Points toward Achievement: Character Development earned, +10.>

  ...How many points do I need to get the achievement?

  <Beginner’s Tip: Achievements are unlocked at 100 points gained, determined from the moment achievement challenge is set..>

  That’s… that’s not so bad, actually. Thenvunin would almost feel good about it, if he hadn’t just been unreasonably cold and cruel to an injured teenager.

   ...He's going to have to do this at least ten more times. He takes it back, this is terrible.

  But Uthvir looks uncomprehendingly at the salve for a moment longer. Before they seem to remember that they’re in the same room as their villainous instructor, and then quickly drop into a bow.

  “Thank you, Teacher,” they say.

  “Hmph,” Thenvunin replies. “You can go.”

  Uthvir doesn’t waste any time in getting away, probably grateful to escape without having something unpleasant happen to them. Once they’re gone, Thenvunin drops back onto his bed, and puts his face into his hands. His shoulders shake, as tears begin to form in his eyes, and spill through the cracks of his fingers.

  It’s just a story, he tells himself. Even if it’s different to experience it firsthand, all these people are just characters in a book. It’s not really real.

  Is it?

~

Thenvunin manages to knock his point totals down to 65 before he finally begins to feel confident in manipulating the OOC Locks. Though he still hasn’t managed to earn any new points, he’s figured out some things about the system, and how they seem to be lost.

 For one thing, witnesses are required. Thenvunin can do any number of out-of-character things in private, but the system will only notify him of a ‘ding’ if there’s someone present to see it. Which is a good thing, because Thenvunin finds himself breaking down in private quite a bit. The system will also generally warn him if there’s someone liable to witness his out-of-character moments - and whatever else might be said, he does appreciate that. Particularly when he’s been weeping in his rooms, and one of his disciples or another immortal from the peak is on their way to find him.

 It’s not that he’s thoroughly miserable, though. It’s just a lot to take in.

 Quiet Peak is a really beautiful place. Thenvunin doesn’t think he’s ever been anywhere so lovely before in his life. The peak is situated in a long chain of mystical mountains, and is one of several sacred peaks where spiritualists who have achieved immortality live and congregate. It’s a place replete with nature. Thenvunin’s home is one of several small buildings - almost a village unto itself - situated around a large main temple. It’s summer when he arrives, so the air is clear and warm, with the occasional cool breeze whirling its way around the mountain paths. Lots of small animals fill up the natural spaces of the area. Birds and rodents, foxes and stranger, more fantastical creatures from Half-Demon Prince’s imagination, like Phantom Lemurs and wolves made of branches and vines, held together by ambient nature energy.

 To a normal person, some of the animals would probably be quite dangerous. But Thenvunin’s body, as he ascertains, is more than just fit and healthy. He seems to have all the supernatural powers of the immortals in the story. Along with a mystical sword that the original Thenerassed would have pulled from the peak, a blade that was manifested from his own innate energies.

 Thenerassan - or rather, Half-Demon Prince - had called the blade ‘Swan’s Grace’. It’s one decision of the old Thenerassan’s that Thenvunin doesn’t mind. The name seems to suit the sword, which rests easily in his grasp, even though he’s never held a sword before in his life. It’s a beautiful thing. Pale and elegant, with a white handle, and a purple tassel tied with enchanted beads that help bolster spiritual energy.

 It’s one thing for Thenvunin to know that his body seems to remember how to do some things, though, and another for him to really feel comfortable doing them. The more Thenvunin thinks about upcoming events, the more he finds himself sweating under his collar. There are battles to be fought. Actual battles. Situations where making even the tiniest slip-up could result in death. Thenvunin doesn’t think it’s enough to simply rely on his reflexes, reflexes can’t provide strategies or help him think his way through more complicated situations, or really decide how to apply the skills that he - apparently - now has.

 So, when the Peak Leader, Mana’Din, comes to investigate his ‘recovery’ from his mysterious illness, Thenvunin doesn’t waste much time before requesting access to some of the secluded mountain caves that are used for those attempting higher levels of cultivation. Or attempting to regain spiritual equilibrium. He remembers the caves from the books; they were frequently mentioned, and Uthvir even retreated to them on occasion, when a difficult battle had depleted their strength.

 Mana’Din is, like Squish, quite different from what Thenvunin had expected, but still well within the bounds of her character description. The Peak Leader is a petite woman, dark-skinned and placid in her countenance. She wears a white half-mask, and an elegant white robe, and regards Thenvunin with what seems to be genuine concern. Almost immediately, he likes her. Though sensing the amount of energy contained within her aura is somewhat disconcerting; Peak Leaders are very strong, of course. Mana’Din is no exception.

 In the original story, she was yet another character who died at Uthvir’s hands. Though, more tragically than the original Thenerassan. Uthvir had challenged her for control of the peak. Mana’Din had fought gallantly, but in the end, after all that had led to that moment, the peak’s forces were so weakened that she was no match for a full-powered and determined Uthvir. She as one of the few female characters in the story who actually died, rather than simply falling into Uthvir’s harem after being defeated. Some readers had been quite unhappy about that.

 As he invites her to take his morning tea with him, Thenvunin feels another pang of inexplicable guilt. The original Thenerassan’s machinations were a huge component to the weakening of the peak - and to Mana’Din’s inevitable downfall.

 “Venavismi told me about your collapse. I came to check on you while you were still unconscious. Forgive me, I would have come to check as soon as you woke, but preparations in the valley took longer than expected.”

 Preparations in the…?

 Oh! Thenvunin’s pleased to realize that he actually knows what Mana’Din is referring to. The tournament, still scheduled a few years from now, will take place in the valley south of Quiet Peak. Because of the potential dangers of the event, the Peak Lords themselves oversee all the preparations, creating shields and checking the security, and making certain that all possible precautions can be taken. It’s a long endeavour, which is why tournaments are not held more frequently. As an expert in placing barriers, Mana’Din’s skills in particular would be required.

 The thought of how badly the tournament still goes puts another twinge of guilt in Thenvunin. He has to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning that extra security will most definitely be needed.

 “Are things going well?” he asks, instead.

Mana’Din waves dismissively.

 “Of course,” she says. “I’m more concerned over you. I don’t know whether it’s good news or bad news that the healers seem baffled by what’s happened. Do you think it was some sort of attack?”

 Thenvunin clears his throat, and shakes his head.

 “It did not seem that way to me, though it was… disconcerting,” he replies. Lifting his tea cup, he takes a slow sip. The warm liquid helps to settle his nerves a little, as he prepares his rehearsed lines. “My concern is for the equilibrium of my internal energies. Healers may not notice everything on such a front. If my leader is willing, I would like to retreat to the Secluded Caves, to better attune myself to what may be going on within my body.”

 He braces himself. But fortunately, Thenerassan had generally worn a mask of courtesy around his leader; there is no ‘ding’.

 Mana’Din makes a contemplative sound, and then inclines her head.

 “If you think that would help, then certainly,” she says. “I will gladly open the caves to you. But do you think there is a chance you could unbalance your energies? You should not be left to go alone, in that case.”

 Mana’Din is blunt. Thenerassan would have taken offense at the implication that he could unbalance his own energies via meditation, but Thenvunin can only see genuine concern in her expression. Spiritual unbalancing is very dangerous. It can lead to explosive and self-destructive behaviour, as well as lashing out. Left unchecked, it can, as he recalls, cause madness, permanently damage an immortal’s abilities, or even lead to death. And while the original Thenerassan may have been an immortal of indeterminate age, who was very accustomed to cultivating his internal energies, Thenvunin himself is… not.

 However, his inexperience could be glaringly obvious to any witnesses who see him try to practice. And if people start to become suspicious, then it could lead to his discovery as an intruder, and then the dreaded ‘project reset’.

 Thenvunin’s not sure what the bigger risk is. He hesitates.

 Mana’Din seems to read his silence as offense. She lifts a hand.

 “Please don’t mistake my concern for doubt. This is a mysterious situation, so, taking some exceptional precautions may be wise,” she tells him. When Thenvunin hesitates again, she purses her lips, and taps the side of her teacup. “Perhaps a compromise? There are certain segments of the cave system that are more open than others. Many of Battle Peak’s disciples are currently using them in early preparation for the tournament. In the event of some calamity, being in that system would probably make it easier to find help, rather than simply using the more traditional caves allotted to our peak…”

 The original Thenerassan would have found such a suggestion offensive, Thenvunin thinks again. But would he have protested to his leader? Complaining might seem uglier than just capitulating, or even taking advantage of the situation. Something niggles at the back of his memory. Something about Thenerassan and the caves and Battle Peak… but he doesn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it, as Mana’Din looks at him expectantly.

 He puts on a tight smile.

 “I suppose, under the circumstances, that would be reasonable,” he concedes.

 Mana’Din relaxes a little, and offers him a more genuine smile in return.

 “That’s a relief. I’ll worry a little less, now,” she approves. Nothing dings. Thenvunin lets out a silent breath, and sips more of his tea.

 Really, Thenvunin can’t help but think. How did it escape your notice that the original Thenerassan wouldn’t have been worth worrying about to begin with?

 He doesn’t ask that out loud, though, of course. Despite his repugnant nature, the original Thenerassan currently retains a spotless reputation, marred only by occasion rumours of his ‘harsh’ teaching methods. And that reputation is currently very useful to Thenvunin, who is not looking to ruin it by being an actual child-abusing monster. Even if the system is making that challenging for him.

 Mana’Din tells him he can set out for the caves in a few days’ time, after she has established things with Battle Peak. That’s a good development, he thinks, but it still leaves the matter of Uthvir up in the air.

 While Thenvunin has been doing what he can to try and mitigate the bullying going on, it’s an uphill battle with the OOC Locks tying his hands. The original Thenerassan had a lot of disciples, though, as Thenvunin recalls, most of them will die as cannon fodder during the tournament. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. Even if they’re mostly a gang of bullies, barring Squish and Uthvir, they’re still children. Well, teenagers. And they’re following the lead set for them by their teacher. Thenvunin is a bit lost at sea on what to do about it all. However, he knows for certain that if he leaves things just as they are, with the senior disciples in charge, it won’t go well for Uthvir.

 The trouble is figuring out how he can mitigate that without breaking character.

 He’s still turning the matter over in his thoughts later the same day, when he finally decides that, caves or no, he needs to get some practice in.

 Despite his lingering troubles with adjusting to having a totally new body, the fact that he actually has energy and a shocking absence of pain keeps making him antsy. All the beautiful nature around him, the strength in his limbs, the air in his lungs, it makes him want to do things. His fingers itch to see what the sword at his belt can do. His heart speeds up at the thought of actually being a warrior, a guardian, someone who can fight and protect people and be gallant and strong. The giddiness he feels over it is even enough to push back his worries about dying, and he finds he doesn’t feel any guilt at all in basically stealing all of these things from the original Thenerassan.

 With all that in mind, Thenvunin sets out before evening to find a more secluded spot on the mountain. He has to travel for a while to do it, heading down and into the woods, with Swan’s Grace on his person. The sword feels light, and he finds he often notices its absence more than its presence. He wears green robes that blend in with the pale leaves of the willowy trees that grown in the region, and passes over a woodland stream, before finally finding a good spot.

 After triple-checking to make certain that he’s alone, Thenvunin draws his sword, and takes a deep breath.

 He swings it.

 It slices elegantly through the air.

 Another swing. His body remembers motions that Thenvunin has never made before, and after a few more attempts, he finds himself falling into patterns that feel natural. Sword-fighting forms. He pays attention to the way his body moves, or tries to. But it’s exhilarating enough that he soon finds himself distracted by the sheer joy of it all. Swan’s Grace sings, metal through wind, and as his spirits rise Thenvunin finds flurries of air whip up around him. The original Thenerassan was strongly attuned to the wind element. It seems Thenvunin is, too, as the gusts of wind follow his movements, and make the fallen leaves around him dance.

 He is so enraptured, he never even notices the tiny figure who stumbles upon him. Arms burdened with firewood, eyes wide as they see their teacher practicing his forms.

  ~

  Uthvir freezes in place and stares dumbfounded for a moment.

 They have seen Master Thenerassan demonstrate techniques before, of course, but such demonstrations have tended to be very simple and mechanical so far. Put your feet here, hold your practice sword like this, sit this way, don’t move like that, and so on and so forth. They have yet to actually see their instructor fight - and of course, they still haven’t. But as they watch, they feel a sudden insight as to what that might look like, and it seems somehow wholly unexpected.

 If they ever had to guess, Uthvir would never suppose that Master Thenerassan’s techniques were so… so…

 Lovely?

 They feel almost like a voyeur, somehow. As if they have stumbled upon the man bathing rather than practicing. The most shocking thing is probably the look on his face, though. From their angle Uthvir can only see part of it, but it seems as if Master Thenerassan is smiling. Smiling as he dances with the wind and strikes out with his sword, moving through forms so complex that Uthvir can only even recognize half of them.

 Something in their chest aches with longing.

 They want to be that graceful, and powerful. They want to be a master who can rely on their own strength.

 They watch, fascinated, until it starts to occur to them that if Master Thenerassan is out practicing in the wilderness by himself, he probably doesn’t want to be seen. Maybe there are some secret techniques that he’s doing? Uthvir’s fear of getting in trouble gradually starts to overcome their interest, and they pull back, retreating the same way they came by and being careful to walk in the footprints they already made, to avoid stepping on twigs or crunching leaves. Every once in a while they glance back, unable to help themselves until Thenerassan is finally out of sight. Then they resolutely keep going, as their heart hammers excitedly in their chest.

 They feel as though they have just gotten away with some kind of mischief. Even though, taken at face value, they don’t even know what they mischief would qualify as.

 Master Thenerassan could probably enlighten them if he actually caught them, though. And probably assign them even more chores as punishment. Sneering at them from behind his fan.

 Although… he seems to be more patient with Uthvir than usual, these days. Maybe Uthvir is actually making fewer mistakes? They’ve found the thought very heartening, even if the other disciples still seem to hate them as much as ever. Except for Squish, of course. Master Thenerassan gave her a new training manual the other day, and she promised to let Uthvir look at it, too. They were going to go this evening, but then Elandaris cornered them and told them to go find firewood.

 A lot of the older students shirk their chores onto Uthvir. At first, they’d hoped doing things would be a good way to make friends, but it seems they’re always doing them wrong. Uthvir’s not entirely clueless, although sometimes it feels as though they are. They like to think that it’s the amnesia at fault. The first thing they can recall in life is running, confused, out into the road in one of the southern cities, and nearly falling straight into Lady Mana’Din. They don’t even know how they came by their amnesia; they were first brought to Quiet Peak as a mystery to solve, rather than a disciple to train. The only belonging of any real value that they can claim is the necklace they were wearing at the time Lady Mana’Din found them.

 Uthvir never takes it off. They’re deathly afraid of having it stolen. The simple leather cord it’s on is nothing special, but the amber-gold stone, rough and uncut, always feels a little warm against their skin. Lady Mana’Din thinks it might be a Spirit Shard. The only other person they’ve ever shown it to is Squish, and she likes it a lot, too. Uthvir knows she’d be thrilled if they gave it to her, but they can’t bring themselves to part with it. Even if they don’t know why, it’s… theirs.

 As if drawn to the current of their thoughts, the necklace in question slides out from under their over-sized collar. Uthvir pauses, shifting the firewood in their arms so that they can reach up and tuck it away again.

 “Hey!”

 They look up, startled, at the sound of an unwelcome voice.

 Elandaris!

 Hastily, Uthvir finishes shoving their treasure away again, and takes a wary step backwards. They nearly lose their balance, burdened with the firewood in their arms. Elandaris seems to be alone; they don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

 “I’ve nearly finished,” they say.

 “Took you long enough,” Elandaris replies, marching determinedly towards them. He points at their chest. “What’s that?”

 “What’s what?” Uthvir asks, playing dumb. “The branches…?”

 Before they can react, Elandaris reaches out, whip-fast, and yanks the piece of cord around their neck. Uthvir fumbles and their treasure pops back out of their collar, as their heart speeds up.

 Oh no!

 The older boy’s expression twists in a mix of anger and triumph as he reaches for the spirit shard. Uthvir manages to whirl away in earnest then, though, dropping the firewood they’re carrying. To their horror, the branches and logs fall directly onto Elandaris’ feet.

 A disciple of Elandaris’ level isn’t going to be as fragile as most mortals, so Elandaris is at little risk of having his foot bones broken. But that doesn’t mean it’s not still a painful thing to have an armload of wood dropped right onto his shoes.

 “I’m sorry!” Uthvir immediately exclaims. Elandaris reels back, cursing, before his face twists in anger and he lashes out and punches Uthvir clean across the face.

 The force behind the blow is more than enough to send them staggering.

 “You clumsy oaf!” Elandaris exclaims. “How dare you! You could have injured my feet. That would set my training back. Are you trying to sabotage me?!”

 “No!” Uthvir assures him, spreading out their hands. “No, of course not! I would never! It was an accident, you grabbed me and-”

 “Clumsy piece of shit!” Elandaris accuses again. “Either you did that on purpose, or you are a waste of training! Come back here!”

 Uthvir’s attempts to move further away are thwarted by Elandaris grabbing them. They try and counter his grip, but the older student is faster, and pulls at their treasure instead.

 “And where did you get this?” he demands.

 “It’s mine!” Uthvir insists, reflexively.

 “Yours? Where would you get a spirit shard?” Elandaris demands. “Even a cheap-looking one like this should be beyond the means of a beggar’s child like you. And don’t tell me someone gave it to you! I know no one would. You have no coin and you have no friends, so the only answer is that you stole it.”

 “I didn’t steal it!”

 Elandaris hits them in punishment. Uthvir knows they shouldn’t argue, but this is their treasure. If Elandaris thinks they stole it then he’ll take it away.

 “I didn’t steal it!” they insist, through the pain. “It’s always been mine, it was found with me, Lady Mana’Din knows!”

 “Liar!” Elandaris accuses. He tugs at the cord, and Uthvir struggles back. A few well-placed kicks send them falling backwards, though. Despite their efforts to train their skills, the extra chores that are always being given to them take up most of the time they would spend practicing. They are behind; they know it. And they don’t have much recourse, though their heart lurches in pure alarm as they feel the ties on their leather cord finally give out.

 Elandaris seizes their treasure.

 Uthvir falls down, and trips over the dropped firewood.

 “No!” they protest, scrambling to get back up. “It’s mine, it’s not-”

 “Shut up, you little liar!” Elandaris snaps back, and lands a kick against their stomach. Uthvir grabs his leg, too desperate to back down. They scramble to try and reclaim their necklace. The defiance makes Elandaris even more furious, however, and after a moment they are both rolling through the undergrowth. Uthvir loses track of where their treasure even is, if it’s been dropped or if the older student still has it, as Elandaris gets them pinned and begins pummeling them.

 “How dare you!” he snarls. “You sneaky little thief!”

 Uthvir tries to cover their face, finally going purely on the defensive. They brace themselves for the beating.

 But Elandaris only lands a few uncoordinated hits before he suddenly stops; crying out in pain.

 Bewildered, Uthvir risk looking again.

 Elandaris is holding his hands up. But there is a large, crimson gash on the back of one of his wrists.

 “How did you do that?” he demands, shocked at the sight of his own blood. “Did you stab me?!”

 Uthvir swiftly shakes their head.

 “How could I?” they ask.

 It must be the wrong thing to say, though, because Elandaris just looks angrier. Like he thinks they must be tricking him. Uthvir only feels confused as he lefts his fists again. They brace themselves, but this time they keep watching. So they see quite clearly as his hands come down, and…

 A leaf.

 A simple leaf, being carried on a swift wind, whips by and slashes Elandaris’ hands again, before he can bring them down to hit. He lets out another cry of pain, and finally scrabbles back off of Uthvir. Bleeding from both hands.

 “What are you doing?!” he wails. “You’ve cut me! You wretch! How did you cut me?”

 “It’s not me doing it,” Uthvir tries to explain, raising placating hands. “It’s…”

 The leaves?

 They glance down to the ground, and the two unbroken, perfectly-shaped, but blood-edged leaves lying not too far away. There are techniques that can make even flower petals as sharp as darts, especially in the hands of wind practitioners, Uthvir knows. They’ve read as much as they can, when they’re able to. But in that case…

 There’s only one person who could do this sort of thing.

 If Master Thenerassan wanted to stop Elandaris, though, he could simply come and tell him to stop?

 This must be a lesson, then. Or a test. Uthvir curses their own stupidity, as they wonder what the correct response is. They never seem to know the right answer with these things. But if Master Thenerassan doesn’t want his presence to be known, then… it’s probably better not to tell Elandaris?

 Maybe Elandaris is supposed to figure things out for himself? He is also a student, after all.

 Uthvir remains silent, and the two of them fall into a wary stand-off. After a moment, they push themselves back to their feet.

 “Give me back my treasure,” they demand, helpless to let the matter go.

 Elandaris’ expression twists. He looks down, but then, to Uthvir’s growing dismay, seems to realize that he doesn’t still have it.

 “I dropped it,” he tells them. Then he lifts his chin. “Which is just lucky for you, because if I hadn’t I’d be taking it to Master Thenerassan right now, and you’d be getting kicked off the mountain for thieving.”

 Uthvir balls their fists, but doesn’t dare make a move. The corners of their eyes itch.

 “I’m not a thief!”

 For a moment, they think Elandaris is going to try and beat them some more. But there’s blood still pouring from his cuts, and the sight of it seems to make him hesitate instead. After a tense second, he turns on his heel.

 “You just wait,” he says. “I’m telling Master Thenerassan all about this anyway, about how you tried to break my feet and bloodied my poor hands. And then that’ll finally be the end of you!”

 On that note, Elandaris races off. Uthvir thinks they would be terrified of his claims, except…

 Except, Master Thenerassan must alright know. Mustn’t he?

 And he… he stopped Elandaris.

 They just feel confused, as they pause and look around. No matter how they search, though, they can’t seem to see their teacher anywhere. They give up looking for him after a minute - if he doesn’t want to be found, they don’t suppose they stand much of a chance - and instead start searching for the necklace. Their ribs and stomach and face all hurt from Elandaris’ blows, but they can’t just leave it behind. They try and retrace things, but even though they search high and low, pulling aside plants and checking around stumps, and even looking in spots that seem unlikely places, they can’t find it before the sun begins to set.

 Their treasure…

 Uthvir is so disconsolate, they finally slump on the ground, and let a few tears escape.

 “I lost it,” they whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

 They aren’t even sure who they’re apologizing to. The words just seem to fly out on their own. They take a minute to cry, holding themselves upright on shaky limbs. Before they finally sigh, and resign themselves to the truth. They still have to bring the firewood back. And now that they’ve lost so much time, they’ll probably have to spend all of tomorrow making up the difference on their chores. The ones they can’t do in the dark, anyway. They sniffle, and brush off their cheeks. Trying to dry their eyes as they finally pick up the dropped firewood, and then stagger back towards the mountain path.

 Into their pockets, they tuck a pair of blood-stained leaves.

  ~

  Thenvunin feels like he must be the worst person in the world.

 He had been surprised when his practice had been interrupted by voices. Raised in argument, by the sounds of it. For half a second he was irrationally afraid that he had been caught, and that something about his practice had been so inherently wrong that he was on the verge of being discovered. But then he’d realized the voices were further off than that. And then he’d recognized them, too.

 Uthvir and… Elandaris.

 Oh no.

 As he hurried over, Thenvunin found himself recollecting the scene he was encountering. If it was the one he suspected, anyway. The one where Elandaris stole Uthvir’s precious necklace, the only remnant of their forgotten, tragic past. The one item that could still bring warmth to their cold heart, even when they were at the height of their dark ways.

 In the original story, Uthvir had eventually regained the necklace when Elandaris died in the tournament.

 Thenvunin watches as the two students struggle through the undergrowth, though, and sees the necklace in question stuck in the middle of a nearby fern. From his angle it’s quite clearly visible. The golden shard is a bright bit of light in the dark green foliage. Most of his attention is soon caught by the fight, however, and his first impulse merits several insistent warnings from the system.

 Thenvunin’s fists clench and unclench. Thenerassan wouldn’t have stopped Uthvir’s mistreatment.

 System, how many points will I lose for just marching out there and stopping it anyway?

 <Assessing factors… likely point deduction is 40.>

 What?! 40 points? He only has sixty-five as it is! That would… that would put him so close to complete failure…

 His mouth goes dry. Is he really just going to stand here and watch this happen?

 No. No, there has to be a way to interfere. Even if he can’t stop it directly, there must be something he can do. He thinks. There’s a technique, he remembers. It was one of the cooler things about the original Thenerassan, in with all his depravity and scumbag qualities. Precision was something he was actually good at. He could whip around tiny things with enough speed and subtlety to make even the most innocuous strips of paper or blades of grass into weapons.

 Of course, the original had mostly used this to inflict secret torments on Uthvir. Thenvunin can only hope it will work in reverse, as he plucks a leaf from a nearby tree. Keeping out of sight, he lifts the leaf to mouth, and blows. The first attempt goes wide of the mark, though. Drawing in a determined breath, Thenvunin grabs another one, and tries again. As Elandaris raises his fists, Thenvunin focuses precisely on where he wants the wind to carry the leaf. He feels the energy in his body, and the energy in the world around himself. And just like that, it feels as if he is remembering how to do something, rather than learning it for the first time.

 The leaf slashes Elandaris.

 Thenvunin is a little shocked at how much blood it draws. His bullying disciple pales, shocked in turn at the sudden blow.

 Even so, Thenvunin doesn’t hesitate to send the second leaf. Uthvir looks as though they’ve been through the wringer. Elandaris finally backs off at that, but Thenvunin frowns deeply at his tirade. Already wondering how to manage that upcoming situation. He thinks he can handle it, though, so long as he focuses on Elandaris’ own misconduct. After all, the original Thenerassan would have known that Uthvir had some possessions, and that accusing them of stealing such things wouldn’t hold any water. He probably just would have been annoyed that Elandaris was wasting his time with information that he couldn’t use.

 But then he hears an ominous ding.

 <OOC Restriction Lock Violation. Point deduction, -20.>

 What?! But - but, how? It was only a couple of leaves! Neither Uthvir nor Elandaris could possibly know who sent them!

 System, I object! There’s no way that should have counted towards a deduction!

 <Assessment accuracy is at 100%.>

 But no one even knows it was me!

 <Assessment accuract is at 100%.>

 Thenvunin feels sick. 45. He’s down to 45 points now, and all he’s earned so far is 10. This is a nightmare! He keeps still, fretting over having less than half his starting points, as Uthvir begins to search around for their lost treasure. It takes him a few minutes to even register what they’re doing. And when he does, he feels another lurch in his gut.

 There, he thinks at them. Keeping his hiding place, yet trying, at the same time, to mentally project some knowledge of the necklace’s location towards them. It’s right there! Look over there, Uthvir, come on, you can find it!

 He could just pick it up and give it to them. But he absolutely can’t, he knows. The thought of losing any more points right now just makes him feel sick to his stomach. So instead he stays locked in place, while he watches Uthvir search and search, their bruises purpling from where Elandaris hit them. Do they still have healing salve left? He tries to think of ways he could get them more, at least, to keep from cracking and doing something impossibly foolish. But he feels as if he is on the verge of it anyway, when Uthvir drops to the ground and begins to cry.

 Oh, no! Thenvunin thinks, swallowing hard as his own vision goes a little blurry. Oh, no, Uthvir, it’s alright, it will be alright…

 He doesn’t know how he manages to withstand it, until Uthvir finally gathers up the firewood, and limps off alone.

 It’s only when they’re gone that he moves himself. Walking quietly over to the fern, and plucking the spirit shard necklace up from where it had been dropped.

 <Congratulations! A pivotal scene has been completed. Important Item: Uthvir’s Treasure has been obtained. +100 points awarded. Achievement: Character Development has been obtained! OOC Restriction Lock has been removed.>

 Thenvunin is so struck by relief at the sudden, unexpected points gain, that he almost doesn’t notice the necklace vanishing from his hands. But an object just vanishing is actually strange enough that it almost immediately distracts him from the bizarre rush of success.

 Wait, system! He protests. Where did it go?

 He has to get that back to Uthvir, somehow!

 <Beginner’s Tip: Important Items may be stored within the system until Participant decides to use them.>

 Thenvunin blinks.

 So… you have the necklace?

 There’s no answer, but that seems to be the correct assumption.

 System, could you please give it back?

 He’s thinking he might just be able to sneak it back into Uthvir’s possession, somehow, before he gets a response.

 <Using an Important Item at this juncture will cost 100 points. Would you like to use Item: Uthvir’s Treasure?>

 What?! Thenvunin draws in a ragged breath, and then lets out it again. He lifts up a hand to rub at his face. What sort of system even is this? He only just earned those points! And without them he’ll be down to less than half again. And will it undo his achievement? He… he can’t…

 He swallows.

 …No, he finally answers the system. He can work this out. He’ll get Uthvir their treasure back, it’ll just… take a bit longer than expected. All he has to do is earn enough points to feel comfortable, and then he can spare the 100 points needed to return it. And in the meanwhile, he can focus on making things better for them, now that he can actually act with some freedom. He’ll make it up to them later, he vows.

 …Somehow.

 The situation still seems bittersweet somehow, as he finally dusts himself off, and makes his own way back.

~

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that the loss of their treasure leaves Uthvir disconsolate.

 When they get back, they can’t even bring themselves to tell Squish. She just thinks Elandaris was picking on them again, and it takes a lot of effort for Uthvir to convince her not to go try and break his knees. But they’re already in enough trouble as it stands, and Elandaris has a lot more influence with Master Thenerassan than either Squish or Uthvir. Though…

 In light of what happened with the leaves, Uthvir’s not sure what to make of the situation anymore.

 Master Thenerassan doesn’t like them. They’ve known that since their first week of training, when he more or less told them so. Most of the disciples at the peak come from good families. Quiet Peak is very well-respected, and the potential to ascend to immortality and prominence is enough to catch a lot of people’s interest. Of course, not everyone has the aptitude or discipline for it. Even a prince wouldn’t be able to join the sect if he lacked the potential for training. But while Quiet Peak looks after its residents, serving the region also doesn’t exactly pay well. So all things considered, most of the applicants who get accepted come from families who have enough affluence to spare them, enough connections to actually get them there, and who also have the potential needed to be considered for training to begin with.

 Sometimes, though, masters who are out on trips will cross paths with individuals who seem to have very noteworthy potential. These people can be of all sorts of backgrounds; what matters is just that they have the makings of a good disciple. According to the tenets of Quiet Peak’s sect, there shouldn’t be any discrimination of people based on where they came from originally. Once someone sets themselves to the path of ascension, then, one’s place along that path is more pivotal to rank and influence than their birthrights or privileges.

 That’s not really how it works, though. Uthvir is one of only a few disciples with a poor background, and the only one serving Master Thenerassan. When Mana’Din had decided to offer them a place on the peak as a student, Master Thenerassan had warned Uthvir not to expect that the idealism of the tenets would shield them from reality - that someone like them, regardless of their spiritual potential, was a pity case. A servant more than a disciple, not somebody who could actually learn and achieve full mastery someday.

 Uthvir wants to, though. Even if it’s unrealistic, even if it’s impossible, they want to be strong. They can’t help but think of what they saw in the trees, before they ran into Elandaris. Master Thenerassan, moving with the wind.

 A knock on their door startles them out of their thoughts. Their arrival at the temple was unexpected, so, when they were first set up they were given an old wood shed for a room. Lady Mana’Din told them it was temporary, but they’ve been there ever since. Uthvir actually likes it, though. The thought of sleeping in the barracks, with the other disciples, makes them feel cold dread down their spine. Even if it was the same barracks as Squish, they’d probably never sleep soundly again.

 When they call out to the knock, it’s Squish who opens the door. Uthvir relaxes a little, seeing their friend coming in with some clean bandages over one arm, and a lantern in one hand.

 “It’s late,” they say.

 Squish hangs the lantern up on the hook by the door, and shakes her head.

 “I only brought a few things,” she says. “I won’t get in trouble, it’s Venavismi who’s on the evening watch tonight and he’s a soft touch.”

 Uthvir swallows, but can’t really find the energy to argue. They cause a lot of trouble for Squish. She doesn’t say so, but the others have told them often enough. Even Master Thenerassan has said so.

 “Here,” Squish says, handing them the bandages. “Do you still have that jar of salve?”

 Uthvir reaches under their blanket, and grabs the little jar to confirm it.

 Another strange thing, they think. Master Thenerassan is often scolding them for not meeting standards, but he doesn’t usually give them the means to do so, either. The salve is really good, too. Uthvir has to fight the temptation to use it all up, rationing themselves and making sure to cover up any injuries that would be visible, first. But it feels warm and smells spicy, and makes the aches fade away. Squish takes the jar from them, which has them frowning.

 “Don’t use it all,” they warn.

 “I’ll use just enough,” Squish assures them, and then sets about helping them tend their wounds.

 It’s always been like this. When Uthvir first came to the peak, Squish looked at them like she’d seen a ghost. But then afterwards, she was always helping them. Even when other people were very clear that everything Uthvir did was wrong, Squish never turned away or stuck up her nose. They could only conclude that she was the kindest person in the world.

 That made them think on the strangeness of Master Thenerassan’s behaviour again, though. So far as Uthvir could tell, no one had really changed their attitude towards them since they had arrived at the peak. Lady Mana’Din was kind, like Squish, but she also very busy. She said hello to Uthvir whenever she saw them - which wasn’t often. The other disciples were either indifferent to Uthvir, or else actively disliked them. Master Thenerassan despaired of them ever showing any talent, and was just waiting for them to make the final, crucial error that would finally let him get rid of them.

 So why had he given them the salve? Maybe he really was just sick of looking at Uthvir’s bruises and thinking they were an embarrassment. What was going on with the leaves, though? And come to think of it… there have been other things, too. The past while he hasn’t given Uthvir any chores to do. The other disciples have, but not Master Thenerassan. He hasn’t snapped or snarled at them for a while, either, or boxed their ears for speaking out of turn.

 It’s nothing really big - but it’s why Uthvir has been hopeful that they’ve been doing better.

 So… have they?

 Are things different because they’re finally getting some stuff right for a change?

 The only trouble Uthvir can find with that thought, is that they don’t think they’ve been doing anything differently. It makes them anxious not to know what they might have done right, because if they can’t figure it out, then how can they keep doing it?

 “Squish,” they ask, as she carefully applies a thin layer of salve to their bruised cheek. The tip of her tongue is pressing out, just a little bit, as she concentrates.

 “Hmm?”

 “Have you noticed anything… different, about Master Thenerassan lately?”

 Squish pauses for a moment, frowning a little. She doesn’t like their chief instructor. Uthvir knows that, although she won’t tell them why. They’re almost expecting her to just tell them that she doesn’t want to talk about ‘that man’, like usual.

 After a moment, though, her brow furrows a little bit.

 “I have, actually. He seems less…” she trails off, and makes a face like she’s trying to think of a term suitable for a student referring to their teacher.

 This is a frequent problem whenever Squish talks about Master Thenerassan.

 “Shit?” Uthvir suggests.

 Mostly to make her laugh. They’re just in the wood shed, after all.

 And it works! Squish snorts, and grins a little. Then she seems to think about it, as she goes back to applying the salve, and shakes her head.

 “Don’t say that where the others can hear. Disparaging our ‘illustrious’ teacher will just get us into trouble,” she warns.

 “I know,” Uthvir says, quietly. “I was just joking. It’s a great honour to serve someone like Master Thenerassan.”

 Squish snorts again.

 “Don’t say that, either. It makes me want to point out all of his failings instead.” Switching to their other side, she starts rubbing some salve onto the bruises there. Uthvir holds still, and fights back a wince whenever her fingers brush over and especially sensitive spot.

 “Lazy,” she mutters. “Insincere. Vain. He barely teaches, I don’t think he can take credit for the success of any of his students, even partially. He just treats us like servants, unless someone else is watching. I wish he’d fall off the peak so someone else would have to take us on instead.”

 “Squish!” Uthvir protests. “That’s ungrateful!”

 She gives them a flat look.

 “I’m incredibly ungrateful for him,” she confirms. Uthvir wants to laugh, although they know they shouldn’t. It’s mostly her tone. Well, that, and the little voice inside their head that whispers that they’ve never liked Master Thenerassan very much either.

 They used to. When they first arrived they thought he was magnificent. Regal and handsome, like a portrait of everything a master of Quiet Peak should be. That impression lasted for about five minutes.

 Then he opened his mouth.

 “But,” Squish says, tugging their shirt open to get at the bruises on their chest and stomach. Uthvir tries to stop her - they’ll waste salve - but she just bats their hands away and starts applying it anyhow. “You’re right. He does seem different, this past little while.”

 Hmm.

 So if Squish has noticed it, too, then maybe it’s not that Uthvir has actually gotten better at things?

 “Do you think he had a revelation?” they wonder.

 Their friend shrugs.

 “I don’t know. I heard he fell down and hit his head. Maybe it’s a miraculous head bump situation, like in some stories? Something knocked a negative block out of his skull that’s gone unnoticed for decades, and now he’s finally able to channel ‘niceness’ again,” she jokes.

 Uthvir gives that prospect some serious consideration, though. It might not be as silly as she’s making it sound. Oh, it wouldn’t be exactly that, obviously. But what studying Uthvir has done has taught them that spiritual energy can behave in really unpredictable ways. If it didn’t, then it would be a lot simpler for people to train and deliberately control it, cultivating it at a steady and consistent rate throughout all individuals. It would be like working with uniformly sized blocks, always knowing the measurements and therefore knowing how many you need in order to build what you want. But instead, it’s like growing a forest full of trees. You can know what kind of seeds you’re putting down, can try and get the trees to grow in certain ways, but in the end, no two forests will ever grow exactly the same.

 And Uthvir has overheard a lot of stories, from everywhere around the peak, really. Things can get very quiet, so gossip is inevitable. One of the favourite topics of all the disciples tends to be stories about bizarre things that have happened to people during training, cultivation, meditation, or combat.

 There are a lot of stories about people whose erratic behaviour, odd quirks, or particular training struggles turned out to be the cause of some kind of spiritual block that was literally ‘knocked loose’ by something hitting them, or by them falling over, or getting struck by accident. Probably the most popular story is the tale of one ancient master who fell down the temple stairs and nearly doubled his spiritual potency.

 Uthvir thinks that one might be a dirty joke in disguise, though. There are a lot of references to ‘bouncing all the way day’ in a pointed fashion that tends to provoke giggles. They think it’s a pretty tame dirty joke, in that case - but that’s beside the point. Many of the stories sound like they’re supposed to be true, even if some of them are just rumours or have all the facts jumbled up.

 “...Do you think that really could have happened, though?” they ask Squish.

 She pauses. At first she looks like she’s going to just say ‘no, of course not’, and laugh. But then her face scrunches up, as the same thought process seems to occur to her.

 “Stranger things have been known to occur,” she finally concludes.

 The whole idea makes Uthvir feel strangely hopeful, and also a little bad. Has Master Thenerassan been having difficulties this whole time, then? And no one noticed? That’s sad. Now that Uthvir thinks about it, though, it doesn’t seem like very many people are close to Master Thenerassan.

 Squish finishes up, and puts some bandages over the salve to keep it from wiping off while they sleep. Uthvir offers to walk her back to her barracks but she waves them off, and only takes the lantern with her as she finally has to go. Uthvir lets out a long breath, finally feeling the aches from their beating subside; but also keenly feeling the absence of their treasure, and its usual, subtle warmth.

 Their blanket feels cold as they settle down. They stare at the moonlight through the cracks in the wood shed door, and think it might just be easier to puzzle over the ineffable ways of their teacher, rather than dwelling on the bitter sense of loss.

  ~

  The next day proves to be a very strange one for Uthvir.

 They wake up late. Which alarms them; they must have overslept, and they have so many chores still to do, they’re bewildered and at a loss that no one kicked open their door and dragged them out to get them. The possible reasons for why that might not have happened aren’t heartening; is Master Thenerassan going to declare that they’ve been neglecting their duties, and finally kick them out?

 Is that why no one woke them? Because there’d be no point?

 Or are they going to get punished for being lazy and sleeping half the day away?

 They hurry out, hastily securing their outer tunic, before they make themselves stop and tie their belt correctly. They can’t afford any more mistakes today! They think quickly, checking the time to find that it’s past noon, and then pelt towards the kitchens. Calling apologies, only to find themselves turned hastily away from their usual scrubbing jobs - jobs they’d neglected yesterday, in all the chaos and confusion.

 “It’s alright, Uthvir,” one of the older disciples tell them. Not one of their fellows. Uthvir comes up short, full of dread rather than reassurance, even as she pats their shoulder. “We’ve got it under control. Master Thenerassan sent word not to expect you today.”

 Uthvir’s heart sinks into their stomach.

 Oh no.

 Oh no.

 What if yesterday was a test? And they failed?

 In a flurry of anxieties, they head for the stables next. But again they find themselves turned away; cordially informed not to worry, that they aren’t expected. They think they even see Elandaris inside, mucking things out with a black expression on his face. Only for a moment. Then they’re shoo’d away. As they head for the temple steps instead, they’re getting ready to plead for their life - or, well, their life at the peak at least - when someone calls out to them.

 Uthvir stops, and then drops into a polite-but-rigid bow as they see Young Master Venavismi jogging towards them.

 Venavismi is the youngest of the currently ascended masters at the peak. His duties include guarding the grounds, and…

 …And escorting unwelcome persons out of the temple.

 Uthvir feels like their doom is cheerfully jogging towards them. Some part of them just wants to run, thinking that this must be it. They’re getting kicked out. They don’t even know where they’ll go, or what they’ll do. They’ll end up on the streets, and the other disciples have been very fond of telling them exactly what sorts of things that would entail. They’re as stiff as a statue by the time Venavismi catches up with them.

 “Hey, Uthvir!” he says, jovially. “Your master wants to see you. He’s at his studies, but he asked me to keep an eye out for when you got up.”

 Uthvir swallows, and takes a minute to register what’s actually being said. In specific, they have to blink, and realize that Venavismi isn’t talking about escorting them off the mountain.

 “What?” the ask. They’d been so convinced that disaster was on the way, now that it hasn’t come, they aren’t sure how to respond.

 “Master Thenerassan wants to see you,” the older disciple repeats. His expression turns towards worry. “Are you alright, little sibling?”

 “Of course,” they say, and manage another hasty bow. They’re still probably in trouble, but maybe… maybe if they’re being talked to, first, then there’s still a chance to salvage things. “Of course, I’ll go straight away. Thank you, Elder Brother.”

 “No problem,” Venavismi assures them. He still looks concerned. “Here, let me walk you. I’m heading that way anyhow.”

 Uthvir can’t exactly dissuade him without being rude. They go with him towards Master Thenerassan’s home. At a few points they pass some of Uthvir’s fellow disciples - the dark looks they’re giving Uthvir seem amplified, and it actually makes them grateful that the guardian is with them. Even if Venavismi likes to make a lot of inane small-talk.

 “So how are your studies going?” he asks.

 “I am progressing slowly,” Uthvir admits.

 “Oh. Well, everyone usually has to go at their own pace. When I was your age, Lady Mana’Din told me that it was better to measure one’s spiritual progress against their past self, rather than their peers. Look to where you have come from where you started, rather than concerning yourself with how you stack up to the other students.”

 “That sounds very wise, thank you for the advice,” Uthvir recites politely. Their thoughts are flying all over the place, though, and in truth, they barely hear most of what Venavismi says as he chats at them. All the way past the mountain garden and over the little bridge to the familiar grounds of Master Thenerassan’s home, and then even inside, as Venavismi is the one who knocks and loudly calls out.

 “Brother! I brought your little student!” he says. “Are you still reading?”

 There’s a rustling sound from the study.

 “Yes, I’m in here. Send them in, please. Thank you,” Master Thenerassan calls back.

 Venavismi gives Uthvir a pat on the shoulder.

 “There. Go on,” he encourages.

 They steel themselves, already rehearsing apologies as they make their way into the office.

 The windows are open, Uthvir notes. And the desk has been moved. They can hear some pleasant birdsong, although everything sounds rather ominous to them under the circumstances. Swan’s Grace, Master Thenerassan’s sacred sword, is in its wall stand. Their teacher himself is sitting so that he can face the window; closing some manuals that Uthvir doesn’t recognize. A small tray of snacks is resting on the desk. Though most immortals of Master Thenerassan’s calibre don’t require food for sustenance anymore, many still eat for the pleasure of it.

 Uthvir’s empty stomach rumbles a little, and they nearly recoil from themselves in horror.

 “Sorry!” they blurt.

 Master Thenerassan raises an eyebrow.

 However, to their shock and confusion, he then slides the plate of snacks towards them. Until it’s at the edge of the desk nearest to them.

 “Have you not eaten yet, Uthvir? I didn’t think Venavismi would bring you in such a rush. Have some of this, and take a seat,” he instructs.

 Uthvir hesitates.

 Not to be disobedient, but only because they feel like this must be some kind of trap or trick. They wait too long, and they see Master Thenerassan’s smooth expression shift towards something like irritation. Or what they think must be irritation, anyway. Hastily, they do as told, before they can get scolded. They fold themselves down across from his desk, and scoop up one of the sweet powdered rolls from the plate. In such a hurry to obey that they bite into it before they think about manners, and send a scattering of crumbs down their front.

 “Sorry,” they say again, through a mouthful.

 Their cheeks burn as they realize their second slip-up.

 But Master Thenerassan just leans forward, and pointedly sets the plate of snacks directly into Uthvir’s lap.

 “There,” he says. “No need to get crumbs anywhere, I had my fill of those anyway.”

 Uthvir swallows. Their mouth feels dry with terror and confusion, but asking for a glass of water at this point would be beyond idiocy. They feel like they should refuse the offer, to be obligingly polite and deferential, but Master Thenerassan hasn’t really give them room to. He regards them strangely for a moment. Unsure of how to react, they take a more careful bite of the powdered roll, with care to make sure all the crumbs on their shirt land on the plate.

 Master Thenerassan pulls a fan from his sleeve, and opens it. He lets out a long breath, and leans back. It looks as if he might be deciding something. Uthvir can’t escape the thought that he is, in fact, deciding their future.

 Their fate.

 “Uthvir,” he finally says, after what seems like a small eternity. The sweet roll tastes like ash in their mouth. “I owe you an apology. I have been a negligent instructor.”

 To Uthvir, Thenerassan’s words sound incredibly ominous. Like the beginning of a speech that starts with ‘I have failed you as a teacher’ and ends with ‘you are no longer going to be my student’. They swallow, and fight back a cough, and put aside the plate in their lap to drop into the lowest bow they can manage.

 “Master Thenerassan, please, you are the greatest instructor I could ever ask for!” they say. “I’m sorry I slept in. I didn’t mean to. I won’t make excuses, but I would never let it happen again, it wasn’t my intention-”

 “Uthvir, stop, stop,” Master Thenerassan gently interrupts. They look up to find him motioning at them.

 Warily, Uthvir straightens back up again.

 The smile he gives them makes them feel even more lost at sea.

 “I am not angry with you, Uthvir,” he says, firmly. “You are not in any trouble. On the contrary, if anyone should be punished, it should be the Master Thenerassan who has taught you these past few years. He has done disgracefully. And so, some things around here are now going to change.”

 Uthvir blinks.

 They are utterly lost. What is going on? What is this leading to? Is it a test? A trap?

 Master Thenerassan looks at them strangely again. Then he sighs, and puts his fan up to hide some of his expression once more.

 “The other students have been mistreating you,” their teacher asserts.

 Uthvir automatically shakes their head in denial.

 “Yes, they have been,” Master Thenerassan says, firmly. Angrily, they think. They swallow and duck their head. What’s going on? What are the right answers? For the past few years they haven’t ever been a favoured pupil, but they thought that they had at least figured out how to manage certain interactions. There were patterns that they could predict; that made it easier, even if it always seemed to end in something unpleasant for them anyway.

 But now all those patterns are gone.

 “I will not permit it to continue,” Master Thenerassan says.

 Uthvir bites the inside of their cheek, and keep their gaze averted. So are they being sent away, then? To stop it from continuing?

 Another long sigh reaches them.

 “...In a few days, Uthvir, I will be making a personal journey to attend to my health. While I am away, I do not think it would be very wise to leave you disciples under Elandaris’ charge. I know he is the senior among you, and that is ordinarily what I would do, but… I, ah. Have been burdening him with too much responsibility.”

 Uthvir blinks. The memory of blood-stained leaves beats through the panic in their mind.

 Tentatively, they look up at their teacher. But Master Thenerassan is holding his fan, still.

 Health? They wonder. Immortals don’t really get sick, but there are things that can injure, poison, or otherwise impeded them in ways similar to illnesses. And spiritual ailments can happen too, of course.

 Does this have something to do with his odd behaviour? And his fall? Is… were they and Squish actually right?

 But then, Uthvir thinks, maybe he’s going to reverse the process? Maybe he didn’t accidentally remove a block. Maybe he just addled his skull a little. They feel guilty for thinking that sort of thing could make an improvement on the man.

 Although… maybe Elandaris just did something to make him really angry? Maybe this isn’t about Uthvir doing better, but Elandaris doing worse?

 Master Thenerassan carries on, heedless of their thoughts and speculation.

 “Obviously, I cannot simply leave the training of my disciples to the wolves for several weeks. But it would be too much to burden any one Sibling of the peak with handling all of you. So I have made arrangements for you all to attend different teachers, while I am gone. They have generously loaned some of their time for this cause. I will tell everyone, of course, but for now you can know that you and Desire will be answering to Master Venavismi while I’m away.”

 Uthvir blinks.

 Venavismi?

 That’s… not bad? And they’re serving with Squish? Master Thenerassan put them together on purpose?

 “Oh,” is all they can manage at first, in their surprise. Then they remember their manners, and duck their head. “Thank you very much, Teacher.”

 “Hm. You should thank Master Venavismi for his time, but don’t worry about thanking me,” Master Thenerassan says. “All you need to do is make sure you go to him and tell him if anyone is bothering you. It is not good for the other disciples to shirk their duties onto you. Chores are distributed throughout the peak as part of training. Every disciple must learn how to balance the necessities of daily life with the pursuit of loftier goals. But right now, things are unbalanced. Uthvir does all of the chores, and barely has time to focus on their spiritual cultivation and practice. The others do none of the chores, and do not build up their characters. So don’t think you’re doing them any favours by keeping quiet about their mistreatment towards you.”

 Uthvir’s eyes are wide.

 Again, they flounder. Not knowing what to say. But the habit of thinking that if there’s a problem, then they must be to blame for it, is an old standby. They immediately start offering apologies again; and rendered uncertain, again, when Master Thenerassan makes them stop that.

 “You are not in trouble,” their teacher reiterates.

 “But I… hurt their training?” they venture. Isn’t that what they’re getting at?

 Master Thenerassan looks vexed.

 “No, Uthvir. I am saying that they have hurt your training, as well as their own. And that I have failed you by letting this go on so long,” he declares.

 Uthvir feels like someone just opened up the floor underneath them. They stare blankly ahead, and then blink a few times.

 They… he… what?

 “...Really?” they venture at last.

 Master Thenerassan’s expression vanishes behind a wave of his fan again.

 “Really,” he says, in a tone that brooks no argument. “But it falls to me, now, to try and fix this. That will take us some time, I fear. And some things cannot be endured; you can no longer sleep in that filthy wood shed, for starters.”

 “I don’t mind it!” Uthvir insists, hastily. Please, no, not the barracks…

 “The barracks are also unacceptable, in your case,” Master Thenerassan tells them. As if he could read their mind. They wobble in place a little, still missing the floor. Except, bit by bit, they’re starting to wonder if they’re floating rather than sinking. If this is a good feeling, rather than a bad one.

 “Fortunately, there is a room by my garden that I do not use,” their teacher continues. “It has its own door to the outside, so there is no need for us to disturb one another. I’ll expect you to have your things moved over there by the end of today. Otherwise, you should focus on your studies until I leave. There will be no more chores until Master Venavismi assigns you some, after I have gone, to try and make up for some of the imbalanced time.”

 Uthvir stares.

 …What?

 As Master Thenerassan looks back at them expectantly, they remember themselves yet again. Dropping into another hasty bow.

 “That is too kind!” they insist.

 “I think I have explained why it is not,” Master Thenerassan retorts, quietly. Almost more to himself than to him, they think. Before they can think of how to respond, he motions at them to sit up again, using his fan to gesture. “Stop bowing. And finish that plate of food, you are much too malnourished. I have some training manuals for you and Desire, I expect you to give hers to her before I go. Master Venavismi will give you guidance if you need it, but I should still point you in the right direction, so I expect you both to read these manuals while I am gone…”

 Uthvir listens. They really do, even though it also still feels like they’re floating away in shock and confusion. They sit in Master Thenerassan’s office, and eat sweets, and listen to birds, and are given two crisp new manuals to tuck under their arm, and a key to a room that leads onto Master Thenerassan’s own garden. They try the shed, first, thinking that makes more sense, but no. The key doesn’t fit there. Instead it opens a door to a quiet little space that looks like it was originally meant to be a meditation room. Uthvir doesn’t know why Master Thenerassan would dislike it enough to not use it; there is a lot of pleasant light and fresh scents from the garden. But someone has put a new bedroll into the corner, along with a chest for keeping clothes in.

 Uthvir leaves in a daze to go and get their things. It doesn’t take long, they don’t have very much. The little room still seems sparse and empty as they set down their blanket and put away their spare uniform, and use the extra drawers to hold all their training material and their little tin of healing salve.

 Moving their belongings reminds them of what’s missing from the count of items.

 It’s a sad thing in with several confusing-but-ostensibly-good things. So Uthvir’s not sure how it works out that they end up sitting on their blanket in a corner of the strange room, with their knees up their chest, crying as quietly as they can.

 And when they’ve finished, they feel tired all over again. Even though they overslept already. Their bones feel hollowed out, and the lack of comforting weight at their neck still seems wrong, but… but, as they settle their damp cheeks against their knees, a wave of relief washes over them. It feels the same way that the air does after a storm has broken. And so, with instinctive desire, and a strange sense of balance, they fold themselves into a meditative pose and settle more deliberately into their corner. Closing their eyes as they focus on their breathing, and then on the flow of their spiritual energy.

 Their teacher instructed them to practice.

 Even if nothing else makes sense, Uthvir supposes that this, at least, probably should.

  ~

  Thenvunin can’t help but fretting, when the day actually arrives for him to leave and head for the caves.

 It still seems like a good plan. Or maybe just the best he can come up with. But there seem to be endless complications to everything. He had assumed things would get simpler once he wasn’t getting ‘dinged’ by the OOC Lock anymore - and in a sense, that really is a benefit. What he’d failed to consider, though, was that there might still be consequences for acting ‘strangely’.

 Case in point - the first morning after the lock had worn off, no less than three of the original Thenerassan’s colleagues had asked if he was ‘feeling alright’. Master Tasallir had looked at him as if he might be having some kind of manic episode, one of the peak’s healers had just ‘swung by’ to check on the currents of his spiritual energy, and then Uthvir had seemed positively terrified during a simple interview where all he tried to do was fix their bullying issue and move them to a better place to sleep at night.

 He had scared them witless and he didn’t even know how.

 They still seem uncertain around him. Thenvunin has been giving them space - and that hasn’t been hard, at the end of the day. He has plenty to deal with in trying to wrangle the other disciples at the moment, who are even more confused that their ‘teacher’ has started behaving differently. At least that makes some sense, though, because Thenvunin isn’t particularly trying to be nice to them.

 Oh, he’s not being cruel. But being ‘too nice’ to Squish reads in a way that makes his skin crawl, considering the Original Thenerassan’s ‘niceness’ towards her. And as for his bully students, well, obviously there’s a need to backtrack on some of the damage that’s been done to their values and discipline. Which means actually punishing them for being vicious little beasts.

 Thenvunin’s never been a teacher. He went to school, once, for about four years when his health was good. Otherwise it was all homeschooling. So he even finds himself pouring through the Original Thenerassan’s notes, not because he thinks it would be a good thing to emulate the man on a lot of things, but because it… at least gives him an idea of what he’s working with? And what the general structure of things should maybe look like. Unfortunately, most of the Original’s notes just read like the diary entries of some kind of madcap social climber. Who has good connections, who has money, who has relatives who’ve ascended, and things like that.

 Otherwise, he didn’t seem to bother with a lot of necessary work.

 Thenvunin ends up going to Master Tasallir, who is an ascended scribe and the person in charge of the peak’s records and archives, and mustering up an excuse of losing some of his teaching materials in order to access back-up records in the archives. Tasallir still seems to think he might be deranged, but less than he had before, when Thenvunin had attempted to offer him an actual friendly greeting.

 The man does make him nervous, though. He can’t even remember reading about him from the original book, and yet for some reason he is… unreasonably good-looking? Like someone cast him out of precious metals and ivory and then brought him to life via wishes. He is quite possibly the most meticulously groomed person Thenvunin has seen on the entire peak, which is saying something, and every time her speaks to Thenvunin he looks like someone has jammed half a lemon in his mouth.

 Thenvunin cannot take it personally. He thinks he would look the same way at the Original Thenerassan, and has no idea what sorts of transgressions his alter-ego might have committed before Thenvunin pulled a body snatch on him.

 But the long and short of it is that he spends several days running around in a mad panic, earning no points and feeling as if he is somehow just making everything worse, as he tries to actually teach his students and beseeches the other mentors at the peak for assistance and is perpetually asked if his ‘spiritual equilibrium’ is alright.

 So on balance, despite his nervousness over leaving - and what could go wrong in his absence, if that little villain Elandaris gets his hands on Uthvir again - he thinks the trip will be good.

 He can study, He can practice his abilities. He can make plans. He can come back, and hope that any major shifts in his ‘general temperament’ might be attributed to a successful trip; like the way some people seem to come back from vacations with entirely new outlooks on life. Or maybe, if he gives them a few days, people will start to forget what the Original was really like. Even just a little bit.

 …That’s a long shot, but he can hope.

 One silver lining to the whole scenario that he hadn’t even anticipated is that, since he is going to a section of the sacred caves that is not typically used by Quiet Peak, Lady Mana’Din gives him a map of the cave system with his path outlined for him. She also gives him a special pass key, which is little more than a strip of paper with a password written on it. But when Thenvunin presents it to the waterfall opening of the cave system, the water parts, and the entrance is revealed to him; and every other path along the way is also opened by his innocuous-seeming strip of paper.

 Thenvunin begins to feel some unease about the situation as he makes his way to the cavern system of Battle Peak.

 He’s never been in a cave before. Only really seen them on television and in movies, which doesn’t really do the darkness of them justice. Not that there’s no light; openings up towards the surface let in bright shafts of daylight, but any time a cloud rolls past them, they darken. And there are some lanterns, but still, they don’t illuminate everything. Many passageways seem shrouded in a deep darkness, and the darkness feels strange to him.

 Old, somehow.

 It reminds him of the practice that some peaks have of binding cursed spirits and demons beneath mountains. Like the dungeons below a castle. Thenvunin does not see anything, or hear anything, or even feel anything more than the odd sense of the ‘energy’ in the place. There are pools of calm, and waterfalls of light, and there are small bodies of still water - clear, somehow - and there is darkness.

 Only the darkness bothers him, until he thinks about how much time he is going to be spending here.

 Then he is very glad that he brought along so many books.

 Every so often he passes a cave that he suspects is occupied, but he doesn’t see any occupants until he gets to the segment of the map that marks the Battle Peak system. He doesn’t get lost or turned around too many times, thankfully. The caves are supposed to be a ‘natural’ place, but they do still have markers for the pilgrims that come.

 When Thenvunin is the Battle Peak system, he passes by a small chamber. Filled, unexpectedly, with daylight. An unfamiliar figure mediates in the middle of the room. They do not seem to take note of Thenvunin’s passage, and after a while, he decides it would be best just to leave them to their self-reflection.

 Other than that, he doesn’t see anyone until he’s actually made it to the cavern allotted to him.

 The space is something of a relief. Though it’s still obviously a cave, it has light. Not as much as the one he saw the meditating disciple in, but enough to give him a glimpse of the sky through the high opening. Water trickles down one side of the cavern wall, and some moss is growing around the opening. Thenvunin can feel the air move a little.

 It startles him, how much of a relief that is. Like a friendly touch that he had missed without knowing, ever since he came inside the caves. He moves to the middle of the chamber, and takes a deep breath. Spreading his arms out and feeling the air across his face.

 I can do this.

 Though after a moment, it occurs to him that he isn’t entirely sure how to start.

 The meditation he witnessed earlier rises in his memory, and after a moment, he supposes that’s as good a place to begin as any. He sets the bag he brought into a corner of the cave - Master Venavismi had blinked at the sight of it before he left, asking if it wasn’t traditional to take nothing at all; but Thenvunin managed to say it was only for the trip - and then he settles in a good spot to feel the breeze, and begins.

 Once he starts in on things, he finds that, like with the leaves he had thrown at Elandaris, many things are more like waking up a memory than trying to attempt something new. Even though Thenvunin is sure he’s never done any of them before. He manages to pass several hours without feeling like he’s been in a hard stone cave for that long; not noticing the memory of hunger, or feeling pain from the cold stone floor. He alternates between mediation and cultivation, practice and pondering. He takes breaks to read some of the manuals he brought and makes notes, and notices the light changing from day to night, before the habit of sleeping catches up with him.

 But that just leaves him feeling antsy and uncertain. And in too much darkness to read anymore.

 Sounds from one of the other chambers draws his attention. Thenvunin considers that it might be wise to watch some of the other disciples here, to see what they’re doing. To figure out what he should be doing. He gets up, and dusts himself off, and heads back out of the chamber. A little wandering leads him to a side passage, that descends right down next to the cavern he was in. That’s where the sounds seem to be coming from, along with the steady trickle of running water. He makes his way down, hesitating when the distant lantern light fades, and he has to proceed in darkness. But it only lasts for a short while, before he sees a light at the end of the passage.

 The sounds become clearer. It sounds like someone… groaning? Sparring, perhaps? Thenvunin almost thinks for half a second that he’s about to walk in on something inappropriate instead, with the heavy nature of the panting that he hears, but… serious disciples of Battle Peak wouldn’t use the sacred caves for trysts, would they?

 That would be too scandalous!

 Thenvunin’s face feels hot at the thought, and he’s definitely hoping he doesn’t see anything untoward at all as he reaches the bottom, and takes a look around.

 The first thing he notes is that there is only one person in the chamber. It’s a wide space, bigger than the one he had been in, but with more dark patches. A lone disciple is standing just off to one side, with his back towards the passage. His shoulders are hunched; and he is the source of the heavy breaths.

 Thenvunin hesitates. Something niggles at the back of his mind, a sense of something he should know, but also a rush of reflexive worry. Thoughts of being in hospitals, of seeing other sick and injured and struggling people.

 This man is unwell?

 And then the system provides him with a name, hovering in text just below the stranger’s shoulder. Like a caption in a film.

 <Battle Peak Champion: Master Calain>

 Thenvunin freezes.

 All the colour drains out of his face as sudden recognition dawns.

 Oh no. Oh no. No, he remembers this now! From when the original Thenerassan was discredited in the story! Battle Peak’s champion was Thenerassan’s rival while they were students, serving under the same teacher. They had bitterly despised one another, and Thenerassan had nursed a grudge ever since the fallout of their constant fighting had seen their teacher hand his tutelage over to Mana’Din at Quiet Peak, in order to separate them. Bitterness at being the one chosen to leave rather than stay, Thenvunin had assumed.

 A spark of hatred that had bloomed into an opportunistic murder, when Thenerassan had gone to the sacred caves for self-reflection, and found Calain lost to the haze of spiritual imbalance. A training method gone badly awry. At the time, the murder was considered self-defense; Calain had lashed out and in defending himself, Thenerassan had killed him by mistake. But as the black marks on his reputation grew, it became clear that the murder was deliberate. Calain’s state only provided a plausible excuse.

 And Master Calain’s sister was a member of Uthvir’s harem. One of their favourite wives, even. So of course, Uthvir had taken great care to avenge the death of her brother, along with every other payment they drew from Thenerassan’s blood.

 I can’t be here, Thenvunin thinks, all at once. He turns to leave but in his hurry, and the dark, a loose pebble flies away from his shoe.

 Calain turns. Ragged and wild, like an animal. Thenvunin feels a rush of shock as he sees his skin mottled with darkness, as if covered in dozens of bruises. He can scarcely take in anything else about the man, as fear overwhelms him, and he moves to keep running.

 Calain makes a sharp motion. There’s a flash of warning. Reflexes alone save Thenvunin as he leaps back, and barely avoids the sword that cuts across his path.

 <Dawn’s Radiance>, the system helpfully tags it.

 I don’t care about the names of swords right now! What am I supposed to do?! Thenvunin wonders back. He doesn’t get an answer, isn’t even really expecting anything that helpful, before Calain roars at him and charges. His sword whipping through the air and flying to his hand, as his eyes gleam with wild, erratic energy.

 Thenvunin flees in the opposite direction.

 “Calain!” he tries, as the two of them begin to race in circles around the chamber. “Calain, it’s me, Thenvunin!”

 “I’LL KILL YOU!” Calain roars.

 Right, yes, no, the Original Thenerassan may have known him but they weren’t on good terms. Familiarity isn’t going to help. Thenvunin keeps running, and dodging the occasional onslaughts of Calain’s sword, as he tries desperately to think. I need to get help!

 He attempts to turn back up the passageway, but the sword blocks his path. And then it cuts towards him, and in a sudden, vivid moment of clarity, Thenvunin knows that if he doesn’t do exactly the right thing right this second, he is going to be speared on that blade.

 Before he can really think about it, about what he knows or what he can or can’t do, he turns, and in a smooth motion, draws Swan’s Grace.

 The blocking move comes effortlessly. Calain’s sword strikes against his own with enough force to push him backwards, but even though there’s a ton of energy behind it, it’s erratic and unfocused. Thenvunin narrows his eyes, and in a sharp, deliberate gesture, knocks the weapon out of the grasp of Calain’s distorted spiritual energy, and sends it clattering across the chamber.

 Right in time for the weapon’s owner to charge him like a zombie from a horror film.

 Thenvunin’s ready, though. He feels impossibly calm - like he’s floating out of this body again, like he’s just a director telling it what they need to accomplish - as he turns the flat of his blade to deflect part of Calain’s charge, and then smashes a palm up the underside of his jaw. The energy around them ripples, and Thenvunin’s own bats his attacker away with a rush of wind that howls through the chamber.

 Calain smacks against the cavern wall; Thenvunin immobilizes him quickly, enabled mostly, he thinks, but the pure chaos of the other man’s aura, and the incoherence of his intentions. He sits on his back to hold him down, while Calain bucks, and keeps Swan’s Grace ready to deflect in case he should manage to summon his sword again.

 But then, reality sinks back in, and Thenvunin is once again at a loss.

 What… what he should do?

 He can’t hold Calain down forever. But he can’t kill him, either. Even if it weren’t for the situation with Uthvir later on, Thenvunin’s never killed a person before. Trying to tell himself that Calain’s only a fictional character doesn’t seem to work very well. Not when he’s spasming and struggling like a very real, ill man, caught in some kind of terrible seizure.

 “Help!” he tries calling. “We need assistance! Is anyone there?”

 He thinks he hears something, or maybe a few things. But minutes pass and Calain is getting harder to restrain, and the bruising on his skin is looking worse by the minute, unless that’s just Thenvunin’s imagination. But it seems almost like… like he’s changing. Like the imbalance is…

 Oh.

 Oh, no. He remembers now. Imbalance one’s energies bad enough, and death can result. Calain body is being destroyed by the energies inside of it. Like a cancer.

 But as Thenvunin remembers that, he also finds himself remembering something else. One of Uthvir’s wives went through something similar, didn’t she? Sabotaged in her training by a rival. But Uthvir saved her. In the sort of novel that Immortal Demon Way was, not saving their own wife wouldn’t have fit the power fantasy bill. So Uthvir had used their own spiritual equilibrium to restore hers. Thenvunin even remembers the description of the technique, although he also recalls it being described as very dangerous and liable to damage both parties if it backfires…

 It’s seeing Calain spit up a mouthful of blood that finally makes up his mind.

 “For the record, I’ve never done this before. So if it doesn’t work, I am sincerely trying,” he says.

 Then he summons up his focus, and presses his fingers to specific points on Calain’s back. Digging in, and mustering up the energy he needs, and feeling out what the over-abundance of energy in the other man is. Then he starts channeling in a counter-balance from his own stores.

 It feels strange. Like bleeding, almost, but not quite. Thenvunin’s arms tingle and his focus blurs a little. But he takes calm, steady breaths. If there’s one thing he does know, it’s how it feels when something’s going wrong in his body. And this feels tiring, and risky, but not like he’s committed a disaster yet. A soft glow emanates from his touch. He’s so focused, that he doesn’t notice when Calain stops struggling.

 He does notice when the mottling on his skin begins to fade, though.

 Thenvunin keeps up the process until he feels like he’s starting to lose his own balance. And then he finally pulls his hand away, and stops.

 There’s a long moment of utter silence.

 Then the system chimes in.

 <Congratulations! You have successfully completed a character quest. +50.>

 Fifty points? Just fifty, for all that? Thenvunin doesn’t know if he’s more surprised that he got anything at all, or offended that this was somehow worth fewer points than just stealing poor Uthvir’s treasured necklace.

 Calain turns, and looks at him with eyes that seem bloodshot, but otherwise normal.

 “What?” he says. “Thenvunin?”

 He sounds simultaneously offended and bewildered. Thenvunin figures he can let the other man go, now, and does. Only starting to release him before Calain is shoving him off in return, and moving warily away from him.

 Thenvunin folds his arms, unable to fight back his annoyance. It might be understandable that almost everyone hates him, here, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t getting sick of it, too.

 “What’s that look for?” he demands. “I just saved your life! That was a risky move, you know. I’ve never done anything like that before. And you were trying to kill me the entire time, too!”

 Calain’s brow furrows. He looks confused.

 Thenvunin curses his luck.

 “Oh please don’t tell me you have short-term memory loss?” he snaps. That would be his luck, wouldn’t it?

 The comment seems to smooth out some of Calain’s features, though. The other man extends one arm outward, and Dawn’s Radiance flies back into it. Thenvunin stiffens; but after a second, Calain only sheaths the blade back at his hip.

 “I remember,” he says, clipped and obviously still wary.

 The two of them stare one another down.

 “...Why?” Calain finally asks, breaking the silence.

 Thenvunin straightens out his clothes, which had been sent somewhat askew by the fight, and hesitates on how to reply.

 “Why what?” he asks, in the end.

 It just seems to make Calain more annoyed, though.

 The effect is somewhat undermined by the fact that the man is bizarrely pretty, though. Thenvunin is beginning to wonder what’s going on with that. When he read the book, he had sort of imagined Master Calain as being a rugged, muscles-upon-muscles, thick-and-hairy warrior type. Barrel-chested and stocky and square-jawed, the sort of man who fought bears under waterfalls. But on reflection, he supposed that the man’s reputation had been described more than his looks. And his sister, Calantha, was a remarkable beauty; dainty and fair, and actually described in an atypical amount of physical detail.

 On that reflection, Thenvunin realizes that Calain looks essentially like a male version of her. He’s still obviously fit and broad-shouldered, taller than Thenvunin himself. But he’s delicate-looking too, with a princely sort of countenance. A pretty face, long eyelashes, soft mouth…

 The contrast between expectation and reality is a little unnerving.

 Still. Calain is glaring, and he does at least have the eyebrows to pull that off.

 “Why would you do that?” he asks, looking Thenvunin up and down. As if he’s half expecting some vipers to suddenly come soaring out of his pockets or something.

 Thenvunin sighs, internally, and reminds himself that there’s no point in getting annoyed. People are just going to be suspicious. The only person to blame for it isn’t here, because Thenvunin has taken his place.

 “I’ve been… thinking about a lot of things,” he says. “Things I regret. About the past. About who I’ve been. I don’t want to be that person anymore, Calain. I’m trying to bury the Thenvunin Thenerassan you knew, and do a better job with the future than he ever would have. I would like to turn over a new leaf.”

 Calain looks suspicious, still.

 After a few more minutes of staring contests, Thenvunin gives up. He feels bad, now. Tired. Here he was supposed to be building up his spiritual energy, and now he’s set himself back instead. Not that he regrets it. After a moment he finds himself looking Calain over again, and while the other man may still be expecting some kind of trick…

 Thenvunin just saved his life.

 Maybe he can be proud of that, even if no one else is?

 “I’m in the cave at the top of the passage,” he mentions, gesturing. “If you run into difficulties again, come and find me.”

 Calain’s expression wavers, while Thenvunin starts to head up. It’s only then that he finally hears the sound of voices calling. Battle Peak disciples approaching from the opposite end of Calain’s chamber, by the sounds of it. After a moment of considering, Thenvunin just decides to keep going. Let them look after Calain, now. They’re his colleagues and he’s probably more comfortable with that anyway.

 After a while he hears Calain finally turn and answer the calls, and then the voices move further than Thenvunin can properly hear. He finishes making his way back up the passage, and heads into his own cavern again. Settling down, reviewing the last manual he read, and focusing on figuring out just what all he did to himself, and how he should probably reverse it.

 It’s good practice, he tells himself.

 Come morning, he has changed his mind entirely. Exerting that much energy in such a strange way was absolutely not worth it. He should have just killed Calain. Maybe this sadistic system would have given him more points. Probably, he thinks. And then he wouldn’t be feeling like someone filled his head with bees and tied all of his muscles into knots.

 The second day he gives up on progressing a few times in favour of just quietly weeping in the corner of his cavern.

 Eventually, though, Thenvunin finds himself getting back on track. The buzzing in his skull abates, and he manages to smooth out all the aches in his own body, with a deliberateness that makes him envious even while he’s doing it. If only he could have done this while he was alive! Just - fix himself! Heal himself, oh, that would have been a dream come true. The number of nights he had spent awake wishing he could just will his bones better…

 It makes him a little emotionally unbalanced. He has to start some things over again, and switches to sword practice for a while instead.

 A few times, he thinks about going to check on Calain. But he hears no more strange noises, and after a while, he decides against it. He doesn’t want to jinx it, he managed to get away without killing the man this time, but what if testing his luck just means he ends up doing the whole thing over again?

 Sometimes he can tell, without really seeing, that there are other disciples moving around the caves. But mostly, things just stay quiet, and never sees anyone. Hears things, feels things, but doesn’t see things. He forces himself to put his attention to what he needs to do, what he came for. After a while he loses track of time entirely, but, he still has a strong sense that he should stay put for now.

 Until, one evening, he abruptly finds that he doesn’t anymore.

 Time to go.

 Without sparing much thought to question it, Thenvunin gathers up his things. He hesitates, warring with himself over it; but then he turns towards the passageway leading down to the big chamber. It’s still daylight outside the caves, and that makes him feel bolder, even though it doesn’t change the light levels in the passage any.

 When he makes his way down, he sees Calain sitting on a flattened stone in the chamber. Eyes closed.

 “Brother,” he calls. “I’m leaving. Just so you know. Good luck with the rest of your endeavours.”

 It would have been irresponsible, Thenvunin thinks, to just leave without letting the man know that a potential source of help had gone.

 Calain doesn’t give any acknowledgement of having heard him or not.

 After a minute, Thenvunin can’t help but sniff in annoyance. Muttering a little to himself about rude people and ingrates before turning on his heel and making his way all the way back up that damn passage again, before consulting his map to find the quickest route out.

 Once he’s out, getting back to Quiet Peak will be simpler than leaving it. He can just use his energy to fly his way there on his sword. A genre trope that always seemed a little odd to him, but when he tested it out during one of his attempts to master a few basic abilities, he suddenly discovered the appeal.

 Of flying, at least.

 The map leads him to an opening that heads straight up and out of a wide side passage. Thenvunin takes it, and lets out an audible sigh of relief as he finally comes clear of the cavern rock and breaks out into the trees and open air again. A slightly frigid wind blowing past him, carrying just the faintest hints of snow, while the trees sway. He lets his energy carry him up above the tops of them, as he stretches his arms out again.

 That was a success, he thinks. He does feel somewhat better about himself and his abilities now. Even if that whole debacle with Calain still feels vaguely traumatic.

 He turns towards Quiet Peak…

 …And halts, going cold all over again.

 Flames lick upwards from the direction of the temple. While the sky towards the opposite horizon is grey, closer to the peak, the air shimmers with an eerie red light. The next gust of wind that blows his way carries ash instead of snow, and right as he sees it, he hears the first distant chime of the temple’s alarm bells.

 He forgot.

 How could he forget?!

 The attack! The attack on the temple, when Uthvir was fifteen. One of the most formative moments in Uthvir’s pre-Hell development, one of the first ‘big’ fights, a pivotal moment before the tournament that actually seemed to make the story really kick off the ground.

 The attack!

 Demons have come to Quiet Peak.

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

↬ i wanna find myself.

date: various, 2018

location: a studio at bc

word count: 1,298 words

summary: n/a

notes: creative claims verification.

it comes together in small parts over the course of a few months--stray lyrics that he scribbles down on paper or types quickly into his phone before being dragged off to a schedule. it’s not unlike how many of his songs come together, but he struggles with this one more once he decides to make it real. he doesn’t know what it is he wants to convey. it’s a feeling, one he experiences so often it feels like it’s just part of him by now. draft after draft is scrapped, and it’s not unusual for that to happen when he’s working on a song, but it isn’t until another night (one of many) spent overnight in the studio that it starts to come together.

he’s felt lost for a long time now. it isn’t anything new; he’s not sure he’s ever felt truly found, whatever that would mean. would being found be understanding himself or would it be being understood by others? he doesn’t know and that’s part of the problem. he doesn’t know much of anything anymore, rather, he never did, but he’s becoming more and more aware of it by the day.

once upon a time, he was a thirteen year-old torn between piano and dance. he was a thirteen year-old boy torn between what he saw as near-impossible success in his home country or possible success in a country an ocean and a language away.

once upon a time, he was a trainee torn between giving up altogether or holding out for the chance to stand onstage as the performer and the singer and the artist he knew (he thought he knew) he wanted to be more than anything else in life.

and he wants to turn it into a storybook with his “once upon a time”s but a story needs an ending and he’s still in the middle.

once upon a time, no, now, he is a man who taught himself to feel alone in a group of people he was supposed to be able to lean on and alone in a crowd of people who both know him too well and don’t know him at all. and it’s a lot. it has been since day one, but he thought he’d find his way out of it.

truthfully, he’s not sure he ever found his way through anything. the burden of navigating his life had been placed on so many people and things other than himself. his own music would lead him to the answer. true love would lead him to the answer. more freedom would lead him to the answer. but none of it ever does. none of it has.

it’s crystal clear as he flips through his collection of thoughts and lyrical notes. spelled out as clearly as any one of the many words written down is that he doesn’t have any answers to anything. he’s a twenty-two year-old man more lost than the thirteen year-old boy his heart is still stuck on wanting to be.

does anyone see how lost he is? do they want to? does he want them to?

it’s a lot to take in as he sits there on the couch in his studio, leg begrudgingly elevated by doctor’s orders. he reads and rereads lines he’s written. he rearranges them and removes them and re-adds them. it sounds so dark and dreary, a little too much like how he feels. he doesn’t want the song to be a cry for help. he has too many songs like that, songs that sound, to his ears at least, too self-pitying. they’re real, but words are an art, in prose, in poetry, and in lyrics, and art can become too dire a reflection of the self-centered nature within its creator.

so, ash decides to take a different approach. it turns from a forlorn lament to a shout, still pleading, but reflecting a forwardness that perhaps he’s still too scared to make his reality. it’s not a reflection in the mirror this time, but a self-portrait. something he can change little bits of here and there to make it something more optimistic than the truth.

it comes easier after that, but translating the words into a real song comes harder as he falls into the same trap he’d thought he’d dug himself out of when he was writing the lyrics.

he ends the night (or rather morning--the sun has risen by the time he gives up) with an agonizing headache the first time he tries to combine everything. recording the vocals had gone fine, but now that he tries to lay them over the music, it’s like the words and the song itself are at odds with each other, each pulling in different directions and he returns to reflecting on the internal tears from all the different strings pulling at him.

many of the words that formed the initial draft of the song had been written out of confusion and desperation, but that didn’t mean it’s how he wanted to deliver it. he wanted this song to get approved and the producers and higher-ups in charge of giving him the go-ahead were probably tired of hearing demo after demo of sad song after sad song. he didn’t want to be untrue to himself (bc already asked for that far too often), but maybe, this time, he wanted to show a different side. not hopelessly love struck, or incredibly heartbroken, or aimlessly struggling, but something else.

when he calls one of the in-house producers into the studio one night, one he considers more of a trusted colleague than the intimidating senior he used to be, ash plays the song with nerves he hadn’t felt before. it’s not his usual producing style for when he sits down to make songs for himself. as the track plays out, he hears every production decision he’s doubted, each feeling more amateur than the last now that an actual professional is in the room. he stills feels so out of his league with production sometimes despite having folders full of fully produced songs saved on his computer, so the semi-approving nod he gets as the track ends sends a tiny swell of pride pumping through his bloodstream.

“you’re getting pretty good at this,” the older producer says with a glance over at ash. “you need to clean it up a little; it’s too busy still and some tweaks to the mix might give it more replay-ability, but with some more work, i think you should add it to your short list of things to show the big guys.”

ash nods respectfully. a timid look between the computer and the producer and he asks, “it doesn’t lean too hard on cliches?”

“for what it is, no. you worry too much about that; i keep telling you. good musicians don’t have to take a detour away from every single choice that’s expected. they’ve just got to know how to keep control of the wheel and keep the direction from becoming someone else’s.“

“okay... but how do i know if i’ve lost control?”

“trust yourself. you could use a lot more of that. don’t be afraid to be wrong. those guys have trained it into you so hard that you have to be everything at the same time, but i can tell you want to be taken seriously for this, so leave that behind. let me listen to it again when you’ve spent a little more time on it.”

ash tries to process everything he’s being told and he nods sheepishly. "i’ll figure it out.”

“good,” the producer looks at ash and he feels like he’s being analyzed deeper than just his production skills. “but you don’t have to figure it all out at once. you have time. don’t forget that.”

[littlecafe]

my suband thoughts pt. 2

(me trying to make this post for the 3rd time now) i realized i wrote like a 10 page dissertation instead and i refuse to post all that so i’m just going to copy over a few and keep the rest in drafts for when i want to reference them later

i will include results and elimination spoilers in this post so if you want to avoid those then don’t read this one...i try to keep things spoiler free but i just. have things to say about the results specific to round 2 :-)

jtbc finally striking down accounts on twitter and instagram for posting suband content....i think tumblr is safe bc this website is dead so i’ll continue posting i guess??? they haven’t done anything to that one youtube that’s been posting all the performance videos too so who knows

should i start with more contestant based random thoughts first

i was scammed by jtbc teaser editor bc they used a clip of jeongho “singing” into the mic in their preview and i waited 2 whole episodes (his team performed last in round 2) for me to find out it was a autotuned mic and a vocoder HELP MEEEE SAKJFDSKF at that point literally i could only laugh 

but he plays contrabass? he actually majored in contrabass? or maybe that was his old major, he’s still in school atm since wonsang said they go to the same one but he had educational training on it which is really cool

wait a minute......now that i think about it, that same teaser clip also spoiled the result of yeji winning bc they showed us that she was sitting in the waiting room during eliminations even though they haven’t performed yet (which means we knew her team won AND they already showed us all the matchups before so we also knew who she beat) WHO WAS EDITING THIS LMAO and it wasn’t even a accidental leak like she was sitting in the background, it was literally her reaction as the main focus and everything omg

hwang inkyu hello??? he’s movning’s bassist and he has a combined total of maybe 3 lines of airtime so far i wish he’d speak more bc i was so scared he’d get his ass kicked off the show bc he wouldn’t have been able to make a lasting impression but thank god hwanglin picked him up and seems like he’s going to be moving on with his team in the next round too (good for them the stage was so good i wanted to post it but haven’t yet..)

i used to really like movning’s music but their music direction went into a style i don’t listen to much so i haven’t checked into them recently, tbh i didn’t even know they auditioned until i looked at the full list of contestants later because their stage was cut out and only inkyu made it in

park dawool and hwang hyunjo both have galaxy brains and i would trust them with my life - yea i will not elaborate much because this post is already long even after i shortened it bc i talk too much but hyunjo making entire ppt slides? to present her theories and ideas? yea she’s absolutely ready for everything, for real she’s carrying her teams to victory

leenzy’s 2nd round team was so strong that i thought she got to pick really early (since they showed us all the team formations before airing the actual performances with the behinds for pickings and stuff) but she was actually the 2nd to last pair?? so all that’s left is her > the guy she chose to be her opponent, and then the poor guy that gets to pick from the remaining 6 or so and the final team of the ones unchosen

i was really shocked to find out no one wanted nakyung and ahkyung when i thought they were some of the best :-( i really still can’t tell if the mixing of male and female was a good idea esp since it was so skewed male in the first place ugh in round 2 it seems like the girls are getting shafted???

out of the 6 girls (that can be picked since 3 are frontmen!), 3 of them were not picked up until basically the very end when you don’t really have many choices left...nakyung (guitar), ahkyung (drums), and sujin (vocals)...and they’re all really good?? sujin ended up on the second to last team (basically the last team if we’re being honest since the actual last team is sadly the band of leftovers) and i just don’t understand why they weren’t picked up earlier...i can understand sometimes vocalists can get shafted because the show starts out with a loooot of vocalists so it’s hard to find a place for all of them but guitar? drums? u can definitely pick them...there’s literally only 7 or so drummers to begin with and one has been glued to crackshot the entire time

before the season started i was already terrified that the girls might get shafted because jtbc didn’t want girls auditioning in the first place but it was fine in the first round but now the second round made me think about that again.....it’s worse when they spin the whole “yes!! all girl band!! girl power!!!” when the reality was they weren’t picked up this whole time. annoying.

but this blame has to be shouldered by jtbc bc they wanted to keep it all boys but bc of public reactions (rightfully so) they decided to let female contestants audition but then it turned out that they barely pass any female contestants so it’s still terrible?!! i’ll just write this up that teams are still trying to figure themselves out and work with different people for now....maybe i’m just worried for nothing

not to absolutely curse myself but i think most of my favorites might make it at least to round 4 and i feel like a decent amount will make it to semis so haha /knock on wood but i really hope this stays true...i just need nokdu to continue taking care of hyunsang and make city pop bops together because the judges seem to like that so far

i’m just worried about demian....the judges keep saying he’s improved so much but why do i feel like they will cut him as soon as they need to eliminate more people.....i’m not as worried about round 3 (unless his team falls on their face) but round 4 is where i’m really scared...it’s the last round before the real deal and in season 1 the round 4 eliminations hurt so bad...they cut like 9 people or something

i mean he has his own career as a soloist so he doesn’t need a band like some of the other contestants but i think he really enjoys being in a team with others, honestly i don’t even know if his company would allow for him to be in a side band? even if he were to make it? like mone made it but all their members had solo careers and with the rose and woosung having problems it must be way they just decided to stop after the show unlike the other semis teams purple rain, lucy (they did have a vocalist change since joohyuk stayed with his current band gift), aftermoon (but i guess their dj dropped out i don’t know what happend with dpole??), and of course the winners hoppipolla all continued making music together under the same name

honestly if he makes it past the judges i don’t even know if the public would vote for him, atm his popularity with the public seems nonexistent? lol but to be fair, for most contestants it’s like that, but i do wish he’d become more popular

actually should i be more worried for haeun...she plays classic guitar and usually they don’t like classic leaning instruments but she showed she can sing so i hope she gets to stay

there’s danny too but i think i have given up on him making it until the end, the only way is if he manages to stay on teams that win so he’ll never be up for elimination but i feel like they’re out to get him TT_TT

but i’ve condensed my solid favorites to just demian, yeji, haeun, and jeongho...maybe i’ll pick a 5th eventually but i still like everyone i put in my first post! i really want hyunsang to make it far though bc the vibraphone brings me so much joy so he can be honorary 5th for now

about eliminations though, right now the judges have eliminated less than last season which is odd for jtbc because i feel they keep to their formats almost exactly so now i’m just ?????? if there’s still more people currently....what is going to happen? are they going to make the judges cut more during rounds 3 and 4? or they trying to equalize the semifinals teams since last year some teams had 4 people while others had 5? are they going to do the unthinkable and give us more rounds or semifinal teams? (i wish) anyways kinda scared to see what round 3 eliminations bring now...

the actual eliminations have been mostly as expected for me, still sad but i guess since i sensed it coming it became more a feeling of like “it couldn’t be helped” and also early eliminations hurt less in general because you had less time to get to know the contestants which is why i’d rather they just eliminate now than later if they were going to do it anyways like pls spare me the pain (but this is selfish and contestants probably want to stay as long as possible)

one surprising one was ludi??? he’s a dj but he’s literally done nothing wrong so far i was just wtf??!! when they eliminated him like it felt out of nowhere.....i feel like djs have so much potential on this show because of all the sounds they have access too but i guess the judges aren’t found of edm noise

also demian nation we rise at dawn, when he said “i’m not okay” like- this song really meant a lot to him too i hate thisssss

PLS I JUST WANT HIM TO WIN ONCE SO BADLY but next time, thanks to kfans detective work on the teaser, it looks like junseo (the smol piano child) picked him and jeongho to be on his team (maybe there’s a 4th member too??) and i am putting my faith into that team now pls help my winless boys

the fact that jeongho is winless is almost funny to me because it’s also obvious he’s a judges favorite but i mean that doesn’t translate to wins just i’m pretty sure he’ll make it to the end regardless (like bohoon the vocalist of purple rain lost all 3 /technically all 4/ rounds and still made it), he plays bass and no bassist has ever been eliminated on the show yet so cheers to that

round 4 was special since they switched over to a number format and no band versus band i don’t remember if the team with the top points were immune to elimination or not (or maybe just an unwritten rule bc why the heck would you do that to them after giving them the best score) but the rest of the teams were fair game - which is exactly why this elimination round is the scariest and not good for my heart especially after i had spent weeks watching them sing and have fun..........

ok now to complain about the judges AGAIN: why are the judges thoughts on what they want in a band so damn similar anyway?

i mentioned this in my first post already about how i dislike the judging atmosphere

but now i actually see it...in the numbers...like s1 there was a bit more taste diversity within the judges but now i feel like i’m seeing a lot of 4:1 or 5:0 scores so i went to see the breakdown out of the 15 stages we had so far

5:0 score - 6

4:1 score - 7

3:2 score - 2

compared to s1 (out of 14 only because they edited out one pair of battles completely so we never knew their score...)

5:0 score - 2

4:1 score - 6

3:2 score - 6

looking at that...it makes me feel sad....especially in the early 2 rounds it must be demoralizing to keep getting met with 5:0 loss and to be very honest and in s1 the number of 5:0 did increase in round 3 but that was when more teams started to figure themselves out so it makes sense that some would start pulling ahead

i’m really tired of listening to the judges agreeing with each other all the time, it makes it seem like the vision they have for the band was already set from day 1 unlike in s1 where everyone went in with no expectations because it was a brand new program, zero expectations, zero fans, just some kids wanting to make music and that’s what it should be like....music shouldn’t be limiting like this, the judges seem a little closed minded and now i’m 100% sure they have certain band styles in mind (i don’t know if it’s the judges only or if it’s jtbc producers too that’s causing this)

and i see other ifans saying this exact same thing on twitter now too so it’s not just me that picked up on this so safe to say we can’t all be extremely sensitive right

like the contradictory comments -

dongheon’s 2nd round team was told their original song was great and lovely but they brought nothing new to the table and that it was too standard, “just like any other rock/rock ballad song” when i thought the leenzy’s team (the one they went up against) also had a pretty standard? pop rock song? absolutely nothing wrong with it either, even the judges said that the song was not complicated at all but complimented them on their “band feel” so i guess as long as they enjoyed the vibe of the team and it suited the type of band style they have in mind it’s suddenly fine to make a simple song

i’m not saying her song was worse than his (i enjoyed both and seeing original songs performed make me very happy), i’m just a little confused at the judges comments for them both especially when one performed after the other, you really don’t see the bias in your words?

dawool was told his song composition in the first stage was a little too...nuanced(?) and that they wish he could just keep thing simpler even though he thought he toned down already and kept things simple, so round 2 he decided to just work with someone that makes mainstream music (davii) to fulfil what the judges want

seulong’s 2nd round team decided to go heavier on the instrumental side because they figured they didn’t want to go head to head with one of the favorite vocalists of the show (sorry yeji, ur my queen but ur also the judges’ queen too :---( ) but got criticized for a similar reason...yoo heeyeol saying that their composition was “fun for the brain” but if he were thinking about the general public he doesn’t think they would like this type of music, literally saying that the general public do not have the music knowledge or brain capacity to understand all the skill based playing going on musically and so won’t enjoy it because it wouldn’t appeal to their hearts................(ok sure call us dumb it’s true but won’t appeal to our hearts? music can sound intricate and fun? we can enjoy some funky strings guitar riffs without actually knowing all the details ya know)

they also kept telling them (seulong’s team) “oh i loved this” “i wish there was a band like this” “very cool” and gave them no votes??? if you wish a band like this exist then why? would? you? not? vote? for them??? like i can’t tell if those were consolation comments or what 

man judges rant ended up being long asf and i’m usually not affected by them and what they say but i was already feeling an odd vibe from the beginning and now seeing 5:0 after 5:0 after 5:0 really did it for me

overall, a not very fun post to read through it’s just more ranting than anything....i’m dying for a big pop off performance so i can successfully gauge the public opinion so far but i’ll refrain from posting my guess until at least the end of round 3, also i believe the team vibe usually outweighs solo popularity but we don’t know any teams yet (at least i can’t guess anyone yet like i could in s1) so we will still have to see!!

i’m pretty sure only i would look and read through these long ass posts of mine lol but if anyone makes it this far i hope you enjoy my crazy ramblings and see you in my suband thoughts pt.3 

[sequoiann]

❧ c.sc | bad fame

pairing; seventeen s.coups x reader

genre; angst, fluff, a bit of swearing?

synopsis; you knew it was going to be hard, but not to this extent. you never imagined that it would be even half as bad as it was now — the idol life. seungcheol is your senior under the same agency, and with your bubbling popularity in a bad light, he recognizes you as you two cross paths in the office building.

but he knows you aren’t what the media makes you seem to be.

word count; 2.8k 

notes; i’m so sorry that seungcheol wasn’t there from the very start of the scenario, but this one is much longer so the front is more of a build-up! this scenario is much longer than my usual ones so i hope you guys enjoy it !! i haven’t been posting bc i was working on this HAHA do let me know what you thinkk ;)

As soon as you stepped out of your hotel room, you hastily slipped on your grey mask and sunglasses, pulling your hood over your head as your hand clutched onto your luggage handle. The need to hide your face has gotten more and more prominent as days passed, and it almost became a habit for you to not show any facial features of yourself when you stepped out into public. Even though you knew no one was going to be in the hallways of the hotel room you stayed in, you still did it as a precaution.

Your stylist, Rachelle, came out after you, and used her fingers to comb through the odd strands of light brown hair poking out of your hoodie, smoothing them out and letting some flow naturally down past your shoulders, so you looked less like you just got out of bed. A small exhausted breath escapes your lips.

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, doesn’t it?” you said softly, head tilted downwards.

Rachelle furrows her brows and presses her lips together in disapproval. “Of course it does, love,” she coos gently, and you manage a small smile even though it’s not seen. “Don’t think like that.”

You assume she could see your smile through your slightly risen cheekbones, because she returned the smile reassuringly.

Your manager comes out of the room next to yours, and he grabs the heavier hand-carry luggage you were holding on.

“Let’s go, the car’s at the lobby. It’ll take us straight to the airport,” he mutters, walking ahead of you.

You mumble a quiet note of acknowledgment, glancing at Rachelle for a second before following close behind your manager.

The three of you took the lift downstairs, where your two other co-managers were already waiting. The two were often not with you; they were the ones who just settled admin matters.

You knew it was going to have to take more than just three people around you as you made your way to the car at the lobby area.

Just as you predicted, the second the lift doors opened, your were greeted with five (or were there six?) bodyguards who worked at the hotel, and they immediately formed a barrier around you.

Fans, or rather, a mix of anti-fans and fans, swarmed around you, but the staff around you made sure they couldn’t come in direct contact with you.

It is the agency’s responsibility to take care of the physical and mental well-being of their artists, they say. Of course.

Random words were thrown at you, and you couldn’t decipher much except for the usual “I love you”s and “Look over here”s. You politely bowed as you were slowly led towards where you were supposed to be.

A few hands reached past the guards and started flapping around, and some had hit you lightly, brushed past you, nothing serious.

Until someone throws a relatively heavy bag of something at you. You stumbled back in surprise, and you felt someone hold you to stop you from falling. Although there wasn’t exactly any space for you to actually fall to the floor — you were legitimately surrounded.

“Oops!” you heard someone call out, before snickers erupted from a group. The insincerity, sarcasm, and deliberateness were almost deafening. You felt bright flashes hitting past your sunglasses and onto your eyes. You blinked a few times, the repeatedly blinking lights blinding.

“Please put your cameras away and make way! We have a flight to catch!” one of your managers shouted over the loud chatters, and you felt yourself being nudged forward a little. You shook your head and quickened your footsteps.

After five long minutes, you finally get to your car, and you scramble to the back seat as your managers and stylist took the front ones. You thanked the guards before your manager closed the car door, and you leaned back onto your headrest, pulling off your mask so that you could breathe easier, and let your eyelids fall close.

Rachelle glances back at you, assuming you were asleep, then sighs softly.

“Shouldn’t we do something about those kinds of threats?” she asked your manager, her voice awfully soft. You could almost visualize him shrugging it off.

“What can we do? What’s happened has happened.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if it would block out your hearing at the same time — and was then driven to the airport; to head back to Seoul.

The minute you arrived at the airport, you checked in quickly so that you could avoid anyone who was finding trouble. You knew they’d come chasing sooner or later.

The plane ride back to Seoul was peaceful enough, and you managed to get some well-needed rest while up in the air.

When you landed, you geared back on, your usual hood, sunglasses, and mask back on shielding your face. You knew full well of what was ahead of you the moment you step out of the arrival hall.

The same scenario happens. Guards encircled you, and screaming people flocked to you, immediately sensing your presence.

This time, it was worse than whatever that had happened previously. You heard no positive words; no words that would’ve come from a fan’s lips. Instead, all you heard was —

“Get out of Pledis!”

“Don’t blame others for your wrongdoing, you shameless person!”

“You call yourself an idol?!”

And the next thing you knew, you see an oval egg flying in your direction. You raise your hand in defense and it smashes into your arm, cracking and leaking its raw contents onto your sleeve.

“Ooh”s and “Aah”s were heard, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. No, Y/N. No crying.

You let your hand fall to your side as if thinking nothing of it.

The guards became more aggressive after that, pushing everyone aside, and you briskly walked to the exit where the car that would take you back to the company building was.

You got into the car, your face still kept straight as you remove your sunglasses. The car drove off, back to the company building, and silence hung in the air during the drive. All that was heard was the light panting sounds from Rachelle and the managers.

The car reached the company building in approximately 30 minutes, and you grabbed your backpack, while your other luggage was handled by your managers.

“Go to the practice room and change into the spare clothing there. You have vocal training later,” your manager told you monotonously as if nothing ever happened.

“Right,” you answered, turning to Rachelle as you became aware of the worried look she was shooting you.

You shook your head as a translation of “I’m alright”. Rachelle wasn’t convinced, but you just went in first, to the lift lobby.

That’s when you felt yourself start to shake ever so slightly, and your muscles were aching as if you’d been holding yourself still the past hour.

Your unsteady hand hit the lift ‘up’ button, and you let your head hang low as you waited for it to come up from the basement. Your thoughts started to wander in flashbacks.

When you auditioned to become an artist under Pledis, you already knew being an idol wasn’t going to be easy. You knew the cons that would definitely come along with it, but you didn’t expect it to get so bad.

The debut album you released received a fair amount of positive attention. You were glad, you got off a good start. However, the second album you released was nowhere near that. The composer of the song had apparently plagiarized the introduction from another official soundtrack, but you were oblivious. No one knew, until your album was recorded, packaged, released.

Fans of the original soundtrack noticed the similarity, and it became your fault. When you tried to defend yourself by saying that you were not the one who had made the song you sang, it became a situation where you were trying to push the blame.

It resulted in horrible, unwanted fame.

You heard a soft ‘ding’, and the elevator doors opened in front of you. You sucked in a breath of air, stepped in, and noticed another person who was in there with you. You didn’t bother to check who, though.

You used your other hand to cover the stains that had been made on your sleeve by the raw egg, and teardrops started rolling down your cheeks.

“Hey.”

You flinched a little and turned to the person standing beside you, widening your eyes as your recognized him.

S.Coups. The leader of Seventeen. Your senior.

“S-sunbaenim,” you stammered.

Seungcheol — which was S.Coups’ real name — frowned, surprised at the sudden formalities you displayed.

“You alright?” he asked, cocking his head to a side as you looked ahead, naturally avoiding his eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you laughed a lightheartedly, surprised at how genuine-sounding it came out as.

You had signed in as an official Pledis trainee about six months before Seventeen had made their debut, so generally speaking, you had trained with them for that short period of time. You knew them well enough to hold casual conversations with them, but not to the point where you guys actually hung out.

It wasn’t supported by the company, after all. They didn’t like the male and females in the company to mix or to get too comfortable with each other. It sounded logical since you were aware of how fans outside easily misjudge and rumors would start floating.

Seungcheol was one of the trainees you talked to the most back then. When the two of you were still trainees. You were told that you suited debuting as a soloist, instead of being a member of a full group — which was what you aimed for at first — so you gladly accepted that position.

And you debuted a year and a half after Seventeen did.

Knowing that Seungcheol was the leader of the 13-member group, you often went to him for help and advice; since you knew you’d be all on your own.

Seventeen received a baffling amount of attention after they made their official debut, partially because of the promotions that they had been doing even before releasing their first album. Through all those, Seungcheol gained experience quick. He helped you tremendously, guiding you through what you should refrain from doing, and what you should daringly do. He mentioned the tiniest of details that you would’ve never thought about.

No matter how negative it sounded, he’d tell you. Because he knows if he doesn’t, it’ll be harder for you to handle when it happens.

He told you everything and anything — from how you should control your really hyper behavior to how you should never show your sadness to the public. He said that’s what they really wanna see. And you were aware that as an idol, you’d have to do what they want.

But Seungcheol never imagined that such a thing would happen to you at such an early stage of your debut. The online articles about what happened to you were endless, and unsightly videos of you were reposted and reposted, again and again until it went viral. Undoubtedly, Seungcheol saw them.

And seeing you in the lift, holding yourself up when he can see right through you and see your own walls breaking apart…

It hurt him.

He watched you more than you knew. He took care of you more than you knew. He peeks into your dance studio every now and then when he passes by to make sure you could cope. He even leaves random bottles of water by the door to make sure you stayed hydrated. He ordered food takeaways and anonymously delivers them to your photo shoots.

He silently took care of you like an older brother would.

Seungcheol’s eyes darted over to the discolored patch on your sleeve that you were uncomfortably trying to hide. That’s when his sense of smell kicks in and he effortlessly identified its origin.

“You need some new clothes,” he said, the elevator coming to the level that you were supposed to arrive at.

“Manager Do said there’re some in the practice room,” you told him, stepping towards the door that was going to open soon. “I’ll change into those.”

“They always say that,” Seungcheol mumbled softly, shaking his head. You didn’t hear him, though.

The elevator door finally opens, and you let out a quiet, heavy breath as you took stepped out. As soon as you did, Seungcheol grabs onto your arm from behind, pulling you back into the lift and pressing the ‘close’ button, and only letting you go after the lift doors closed shut.

You looked at him in annoyance. You weren’t in the mood to continue being polite and cheery like you usually was.

“I have practice, Seu—” you paused for a mere millisecond as you lowered your tone. “—sunbaenim.”

“That can wait,” he said easily, as if not listening to whatever you were saying.

The elevator proceeds up two more floors, before the doors open and you’re nudged out softly by Seungcheol. You unwillingly followed him to another practice room — the one you recognized as Seventeen’s. He pushes down on the door handle, opening it, and you catch a glimpse of the other members. You instinctively took a step back, your feelings mixed. You felt guilty, ashamed to see them in your state.

“Come in,” Seungcheol says, almost ordering you to.

“What for?” you questioned, your patience level running low.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, and, once again, pulls you in by your wrist. It wasn’t a forceful drag, but you weren’t happy with it.

You stumble in and the other twelve members turn to you. They recognized you instantly and wide, bright smiles formed on their originally worn out features.

“Y/N!” they chorused messily, Seungkwan actually running over to crush you in a hug. You smiled slightly — this time with it being a little more legitimate. Your clean arm wrapped back around him as you let your other stained arm hide behind your body. It was an awkward position, but Seungkwan doesn’t notice.

Seungcheol smiles at the sight,, but quickly tells them to get back to practice, and that he would join them in a while. They nodded and shot you a few last looks, before turning back to the mirror in front of them and returning to their practice.

Seungcheol then leads you to the vocal training studio that was connected at the back, and you lifted your wrist to check the time on your watch.

“Seungcheol, seriously, not now. I only have five minutes,” you deadpanned, getting more and more irritated as time passed.

He pays no attention to you as he grabs a beige hoodie from a chair, passing it to you.

“Change into these,” he said, and you declined.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t need it,” you said, pushing it back into his hands as you clenched your jaw. Your eye level was to the ground again.

“Y/N—”

And you just burst.

“I said I don’t need it!” you raised your voice. You knew at the back of your head that the vocal studio was soundproof.

“Stop being so nice to me! Stop asking me questions and looking at me like you actually care! I’m sorry I’m doing nothing for this company, I’m sorry I’m being a burden. I’m trying, I really am, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m guilty, I’m trying to avoid all of you, every single one of you, and you dragging me here isn’t making me feel any better! I don’t want to see any of you, don’t you get it!?”

You were screaming, your internal words just pulling themselves out of your throat without any sugar coating. Your tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down your face. There is static at the side of your head once more, the side effect of living with this constant stress and fear every single day. The muscles of your chin tremble like a small child’s, and you bit in your lips as you looked away from Seungcheol. Your fists balled so tight that you could feel your own nails digging into your palm, and then your fists, too, started shaking.

Seungcheol stands there, for a few seconds, just looking at you. Then he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, gently rubbing your arm as you just cried into his chest. You couldn’t hold it in any longer — you just couldn’t.

His embrace was warm, and his arms seemed protective around your frail self. He softly cooed you, swaying you side to side a little as an attempt to calm you down.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered. “It will be.”

For the first time in the past five months, you felt like nothing could hurt you. Nothing at all.