Shoot The Puppy, Shin Yoosung. You Need To Pass The First Scenario

thinking about how you cannot gender yhk in a way that matters. kdj has millions of fragments of all kinds of genders, so you cant essentially call him a guy (?); i assume hsy is pretty much comfortable with changing gender, as she appears as a man in early orv at least twice. yjh is also fine with being the punisher and roaming around people he knows (except kdj, but thats another thing entirely,) like thats already a part of him he's accepted by now

I am not an emotionless monster It's so hard for me to push a knife in your heart but I know, I am the only one who can do it

spoiler rambles under the readmore

This line from the play stuck with me a lot, and I know its not particularly in the novel but I still enjoyed it because it makes you think about her being the one who wrote in dokja's death, in a way also dealing the final blow along with yjh in this moment, death by story, includes her as the killer too

yoohankim making me feel shrimp emotions rn

Yoo Joonghyuk being broken by everything having gone so well. It's never explicitly stated, but it's very heavily implied that someone always dies from Yoo Joonghyuk's team by the time the Seoul Dome is broken. Either that, or something terrible in general happens (Seoul being wrecked, etc).

In Kim Dokja's round, he had everyone. They were alive. Nobody was seriously hurt. Everything was going so well. This man who appeared in this round only was creating miracles, even if Yoo Joonghyuk doesn't like the self-sacrificing stuff (because he's realized he's come to care about Kim Dokja a lot. Enough so that he doesn't want to have to continue the scenarios without him, and the only reason he's willing to do so is because Kim Dokja told him that he had to. And Yoo Joonghyuk is good about following through on what his companions ask of him, even if he pretends he won't, and that's putting aside how deeply Kim Dokja's words impacted him) but Kim Dokja's actions had created the best story for them yet.

And then, seemingly at random, the Outer God descends and destroys everything and everyone.

It's like an unfair glitch in a game destroying all of your progress. Everything you had worked for, gone in an instant. But it's worse because he loved and cared for all of them. And the final straw was his worst fear coming true: Kim Dokja does not exist in this round. He doesn't exist in the next one either. He can't find him, and he can't do the things that Kim Dokja did. He never knew the man's plan. He lost his guiding star. Kim Dokja was the one person who had understood him, and that was someone he had been looking for for so long. Between the two things, he was broken, and desperate, and made many, many more mistakes than he would have.

It's a bad ending, plain and simple. And though the story doesn't say it, end game readers who understand the context also know that that Yoo Joonghyuk would be doomed to never reaching the end of the story and never getting the answers he wants. Because the man who had the key to reaching the epilogue was taken away by the cruel twist of the Star Stream.

ok ok the yoohan clock tower scene is rlly important to the narrative and all BUT

yoohankim clock tower!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LGY, LJY, and SYS as the three girls on google street for anonymous for @orv-gotcha-for-gaza thank you for your donation anon!

epilogue II

the beautiful days still didn’t arrive or at least not as i had imagined - there was no bright and early awakening, or a stretch towards the sun, no feeling of "i am finally worthy" and no lack of the familiar shadows. the beautiful days were disjointed and blemished, the streets were littered and the sun was too hot, the clouds too little, the breeze on my cheek not enough to ruffle my hair like the movies. the ancient cathedral was a modern art installation and the historical city was a street, but my heart was stirred all the same

my beautiful days were so ordinary i barely noticed, until the stroke of midnight, how much i loved them. come back to me, night spent in a hotel room playing mafia, come back to me exhausted laughter and charades and home-cooked pasta. come back to me, friends, and accuse me of being the mafia again and let me laugh and incriminate myself again, and let me love you in that moment, please, i didn't realise it then

my sweet forgiving days let me sleep in though the 8am alarm still woke me, perhaps my body had heard my desire to consume and conserve the daylight hungrily - summer sun, let's put aside our rivalry, you made our smiles glow so gently on the last day, i owe you

my sweet forgiving days, that i fear, that i fear are lulling me into complacency, i fear so much but i love you still. i love you still, i thank the heavens for you still, train delays and all. i'll trudge through the city on tired feet and sleepless muscles again, come back, i'll wear my short sleeves and you will make it feel okay.

come on, hurry, the train will soon arrive and the karaoke place will soon close, i heard my voice in recording and i'll forgive it, i sang you proud. the city is so alive, breathing me in and out, pushing me against the hand-grip of the subway and pulling me from bookstore to bookstore, up and down the stairs and up and down, and up once more because the apartment was always one floor higher than i hoped, though i already knew that from the blue flower prints i memorised, and the rainbow mat of the neighbour who must've cursed us out, let me send flowers to them, let me send flowers. thank you for allowing me joy and delirium and obnoxious laughter. happiness is so fleeting and easily questioned, forgive me, allow me your mercy of returning again and again, and again as i look into my friends' smiles and burst into giggles. 

my beautiful days were so short and spaced between the ordinary days (that were still beautiful, god, they were all so beautiful-) but you still fit so much inside; i battle time and memory to keep you with me, a little more, a little longer, let me linger on the memory of touch and sound and don't you dare take it away from me. my world and my people and my people's people and my world's planet, i love you so. 

and when that plane lands, and that shuttle screeches to a halt, and when i walk down that wooden hallway and hear the familiar roll of my suitcase, i know i'll forget you, i'll forget that i'm not alone. the past will beckon me once more and my daydreams will say so what of happiness when there is no success within it. but perhaps one fine morning of sleeping in again the world will forgive me as it always does, as i pray it always will, and i will be reminded that i have pockets of my heart beating gently around this stupidly large globe. maybe a smile or a joke will set it off, maybe a moment of sadness or even frustration, maybe i can be missed as i miss you so already, all of you, all of you, all of you who i remember and forget with the turn of the earth and the pilot's steady descent onto the landing. i love you so much even when i don't. i love you so much even though i will never be certain that you love me, i will never accept that you can love me differently or less or more, or perhaps not at all. not at all. not at all- 

but you did for a moment, right?

When your newest hyperfixation has no merch desperate time call for desperate measures

what does Yi Sunsin—who famously got shot to death—think of Lee Jihye using a gun now?