#definitelyhuman10

[yersina]

Um. For the writing prompts, how about Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunjae slow dancing? They’ve already danced once, so why not again :)

Yoojin’s not hiding, really. It wouldn’t do for the first prince of Haeyeon to be hiding at the birthday banquet of the crown prince of Seseong, so Yoojin isn’t hiding.

Naturally.

There just happened to be a lot of people in the banquet hall, and all of them wanted to talk to Yoojin when they really should be talking to Yoohyun, and none of them took the hint when Yoojin tried directing them away… So obviously, the solution was to hid—beat a strategic retreat to the gardens. Obviously.

There’s a conveniently large hibiscus bush further down the path—not so far that Yoojin could be accused of running away from his princely duties, but far enough that he won’t be spotted by anyone giving a cursory glance out the windows of the banquet hall. The flowers in the gardens really are meticulously kept, Yoojin notes, and blooming magnificently even in the cooling autumn air.

“Prince Yoojin,” a voice comes from behind him. Yoojin lets out an embarrassing yelp and even more embarrassingly tries to hide behind the hibiscus bush, even though he’s obviously been spotted. “Oh? I came out here to ask Prince Yoojin for a dance, but it seems he wants to play hide and seek instead?”

Yoojin wants to go back five minutes and tell his past self to completely abandon his idea of hi—retreating to the gardens. “Prince Hyunjae,” he says, dusting off his clothes with stiff movements. Of all the people that could’ve found him, why him? “Your flowers are beautiful.”

The crown prince of Seseong’s eyes twinkle in the moonlight, which is not information Yoojin ever needed to know, nor ever wanted. “Thank you. I grew them myself.”

“You did not.”

“I could have.”

“But you did not.”

“I sailed to the port of Anyeong and bargained with one of the most renowned hibiscus botanists to have these bushes planted in my garden.” Hyunjae punctuates the lie with an angelic smile.

Yoojin refrains from rolling his eyes, in the same way that he is not hiding in the gardens. “Surely the crown prince of Seseong has better things to be doing than personally buying flower bushes.”

Hyunjae’s smile ticks up a notch. “Well, it was worth it in the end if Prince Yoojin was able to appreciate them.”

It’s all a lie, clearly, so there’s no reason for the heat in Yoojin’s cheeks. “Why is the crown prince out in the gardens during his own birthday banquet?” He changes the topic for the sake of his blood pressure. “Surely it’s much more important for you to stay inside?” Even if Yoojin plans on leaving the political efforts to Yoohyun, he knows that deals and alliances are made at these types of gatherings.

“Like I said, I came out here to ask for a dance.”

Yoojin eyes Hyunjae suspiciously. Obviously, it’d be better for the other prince to dance with a princess or a lady, or—or even Yoohyun before trying to spend time with Yoojin. “If you’re looking to strike a deal with Haeyeon, I’m not the person to talk to anymore.”

“And if the deal is for a dance?” Hyunjae takes a step forward. Yoojin inches back. “Yes, like that.”

Yoojin’s not sure if he wants to spend the effort to try and untangle whatever plan the prince of Seseong must have devised. There’s no amount of mental knots that lead to a dance with Yoojin. “It would be better for you to find someone else to dance with, wouldn’t it,” he says as he tries to round the other side of the hibiscus bush. Unfortunately, right as he tries a step to the side, Hyunjae reaches out and pulls him into the open. “Prince Hyunjae.”

“Prince Yoojin.” He still hasn’t let go of Yoojin’s hand. “Dance with me?”

The crown prince of Seseong is much taller than Yoojin, which is not something Yoojin would’ve cared to notice unless he were standing next to him like he is now. “There isn’t any music,” he tries.

Hyunjae cocks his head to the side. “You can hear the court musicians from here.” This is true—Yoojin doesn’t even need to strain to hear the notes of the slow song currently being played.

“I don’t know how to dance.” Yoojin has suffered through too many dance lessons as a child to not know how to dance. The raised eyebrow he gets for that protest tells him Hyunjae knows this as well. “We can’t both dance the male part.”

Hyunjae tugs him closer—the kind of close where Yoojin is suddenly aware of the space that Hyunjae takes up, and also the space that his own body takes up in relation to Hyunjae’s—and after a moment of consideration, he guides Yoojin’s other hand to his waist and sets his own on Yoojin’s shoulder. “There,” he says, eyes curved into infuriating crescents. “How’s that?”

“Bad,” Yoojin deadpans over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Hyunjae hums and adjusts their hand hold so that it’s more of a clasp than a grip, steps closer to Yoojin, and oh. A part of Yoojin, raised by court scholars and strict teachers, is aware that this is a more proper dancing form. The other part is too busy thinking about how Hyunjae’s hand is quite warm.

If he tips forward just a few degrees, his head will be resting on Hyunjae’s shoulder. The same part of him thinking about Hyunjae’s palm against his also wonders if that’ll be equally as warm.

“Has Prince Yoojin danced with anyone else at the banquet yet?” Hyunjae asks idly, taking a step back and pulling Yoojin along with him. Yoojin is fairly certain he’s the one who’s supposed to be leading, but Hyunjae’s movements are firm and confident, so he lets himself be swept along.

“No.” There's a certain amount of dedication and attention needed to dance with strangers, and while there are guests at the banquet who are more than happy to blindly stumble their way through conversation and a dance, Yoojin would rather not. “Have you?”

Before Hyunjae replies, he directs Yoojin in a more complicated series of steps in time with a trill in the music, before returning to the more basic, rhythmic swaying they were doing before. Yoojin wants to point out that they’re moving too slowly for the music and their steps are too simplistic, but every time he thinks about mentioning it, he’s distracted by how close their shoulders are to touching. “Prince Yoojin is the only one for me, of course.”

Craning his head up to look at Hyunjae is a bit inconvenient from this position, but Yoojin hopes that his disbelief is conveyed loud and clear regardless. “What’s that supposed to—”

“Spin.”

Yoojin spins under Hyunjae’s outstretched arm without particularly meaning to, and he finishes tucked loosely into Hyunjae’s embrace. Any chill from the night air has been driven away long ago by Yoojin’s flush and the feeling of Hyunjae’s arm against his back. “I think this was supposed to happen the other way around,” is the only thing he can think to say, voice barely louder than a whisper. Though he doubts that he’d be able to lead Hyunjae in a spin, even if he tried.

Hyunjae smiles. “Was it?” When he unfurls Yoojin from his hold and returns them to their previous positions, he preemptively claims Yoojin’s waist, hand gentle but no less present for it. “I believe this happened exactly as intended.”

Yoojin spends a moment contemplating the indignity of having to stretch to reach Hyunjae’s shoulder, before consigning himself to defeat and settling an uncertain hand on his arm instead. They’re still so close. “Prince Hyunjae is too tall,” he says, because it seems like the safest topic compared to everything else that’s been brought up so far. “How will you ever dance with anyone else?”

A tightening of the grip Hyunjae has on his waist is his only warning before the music picks up and Yoojin has to fall back on muscle memory, moving together in a circle between the hibiscuses until the music settles down again. Yoojin nearly trips over an uneven patch of land, but Hyunjae catches his weight neatly and hardly misses a beat. “I’m doing so well dancing with Prince Yoojin that I don’t need to think about anyone else,” he answers. Yoojin thinks that he should perhaps save those lines for his future wife.

He falls quiet after that, not brave enough to try another line of conversation, but even silence isn’t safe with the crown prince of Seseong. Silence means that Yoojin’s attention is drawn to every point of contact between them—only three, but there’s potential for more, and Yoojin’s attention is drawn there too. Silence means that Yoojin can focus on whatever heady scent is lingering on Hyunjae’s clothes, noticeable even over the smell of the flowers around them. Silence means that Yoojin can hear footsteps crunching towards them, fast.

He disentangles himself from Hyunjae just in time for Yoohyun to round a corner of the path and spot them next to the flower bushes. “Hyung!” he calls, inexplicably glaring at Hyunjae. “I noticed you were missing.”

They couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes. “Oh, Prince Hyunjae was just… graciously showing me the flowers,” he says, trying not to feel like a scolded child. “They’re quite beautiful.”

Yoohyun doesn’t let up on his glare. “Is that all?”

“That’s all, Yoohyun, stop worrying.” Yoojin steps forward and pushes Yoohyun back in the direction of the banquet hall. When he turns back to bid goodbye to Hyunjae, his words die in his throat as Hyunjae reaches forward and tucks a freshly-plucked hibiscus flower behind his ear.

“Since you liked them so much,” Hyunjae explains, eyes crinkling with an amount of mirth that belies just how much he’s enjoying Yoohyun’s exponentially increasing anger.

“Sung Hy—”

“Come on, Yoohyun,” Yoojin interrupts, forcefully shoving Yoohyun down the path back to the building and vehemently avoiding everyone’s gaze. “I’m thirsty. Let’s find something to drink.”

Later, he pulls the flower out of his hair and tucks it into a fold of his clothes instead, the pale petals stark against dark fabric. It visibly annoys Yoohyun whenever he happens to look at it, but Yoojin can’t bring himself to throw the blossom away. It’s a visual reminder of gentle touches under the moonlight whenever he glances down, and, perhaps, a silent suggestion that there could be more.

#definitelyhuman10 #sina writes #sctir #s classes that i raised #fanfiction #jinjae #this post is sponsored by my two lessons of ballroom dancing ten years ago #writing shj without his last name is so weird like he’s meant to be full named like a naughty cat #alas that’s what felt Right for this scene #the hibiscus referred to here is the mugunghwa (national flower of korea) bc I have no creativity #also anyeong is completely made up if it’s a real town that was unintentional haha #originally intended this to be in the same au as two of swords but it kinda grew into its own thing lol

[sctir]

i actually have a deep solidarity with all the sctir novel readers. i see u guys in the notes of manhwa reader's posts recommending the novel to them. good job guys keep it up

#wei.post #me seeing definitelyhuman10 reccing the novel in the replies of that hyj art like: *points* i do that!

[readeridentity]

tagged by @necropopolis

tag 9 people you wanna get to know better

last song: VITA - KANKAN

last show: ughh probably Death Parade (?)

current show: none !! I actually don't have the capacity to sit & watch any video more than 10 mins right now

currently reading: I am reading a manga right now and has SUCH an amazing atmosphere— "Veil"

current obsession: poetry, I am trying to pick back up my writing !!

tagging: @luccy-sb11 @crimsonmyre @definitelyhuman10 @murasaki-cha

#readeridentity #tag meme

[butterfirefly]

WIP Word Search Tag Game

Tagged by @sctirs (thank you! ^_^)

rules: search for the words given by whomever tagged you within your wip(s) and post them for us to see! Then tag as many people as you want and give them five words to find in their works.

pour

It was a peaceful spring afternoon when Seri opened the fridge, poured herself a glass of chocolate milk, and promptly poured the contents of her stomach all over the kitchen floor. Yoojin had been quietly doing his homework in the living room, and so he was able to hear his mother retch, arriving in the kitchen with a crayon still in hand before she could even put the glass down, his young face scrunched up in worry.

shiver

“Han Yoohyun.” He paused in his steps. Like an animal that had just heard something foreign to it, Han Yoohyun tilted his head, and this one small action was enough to send shivers crawling down Donghoon’s spine.

sweet

He sees his eyes dance with mirth and trepidation blooms in Yoojin’s chest. “The world is changing, Yoojin-ah, and your family with your kind hearts will not survive it. Darkness will spread in the land, and soon it will swallow your family whole. And sweet, innocent little Yoohyunie will be-” Metal sings as Yoojin whips his blade out of its sheathe.

attempt

“Anyone who tries to step past me will be killed.” He honestly hoped someone would, just so he could have another excuse to earn 100 coins, but it seemed as if no one even dared to breathe too loudly now, let alone attempt to do anything to anyone. Letting out a put-upon sigh, Yoohyun lightly gestured with his chin. “Continue.”

snap

Once it was clear that the group of students viciously kicking his seatmate had no plans of stopping, Yoohyun calmly pulled his tie off his neck and got up from his seat, sauntering towards them with all the confidence of a tiger among sheep and looping the long strip of fabric around his hands as he went. He picked the most vicous one among the attackers—the muscular teen who incited the others to act—and looped his tie around his neck. Before anyone could even react, Yoohyun spun on his heels and pulled the student over his shoulder, causing him to land on the floor face-first with a bang. He braced his knee on the boy’s back and jerked his arms upwards, breaking his neck with an audible snap that froze everyone in their tracks.

Tagging my dear mutual @definitelyhuman10. Your words are light, lost, survive, darkness, and life. But of course, only if you want to ^_^

#pour shiver attempt and snap all come from grab it with both hands #sweet comes from eternally #all of these are published on ao3 since for my writings it's basically debut or die #sctir #orv #sorry I submitted the assingment late professor wei I just now got access to a device that isn't a tv asldkfjgldalsjf

[chrisrambles]

hey y’all!!

so it’s about an hour and 40mins into the new year for me and i just wanted to thank you all for not making this year as absolute shit as it could have been :D

this year was truly something, but i have enjoyed every second of being here and meeting so many of you!!

Being here and the support I have received has been incredible to say the least!

thank you to all my friends, mutuals, followers, and partner for making this year okay <3

Let’s get through this next one together!

...

OK YOU KNOW WHAT  FUCK IT THAT WAS GOING TO BE THE END BUT HELL NO

let’s make some positive shit! 

either tag someone/people that helped you though this year and/or tell me about something epic that happened this year!! 

i shall go first under the cut!! :D

first of all. imma just shout out some of my incredible, lovely, and talented friends, @heir-of-the-chair @caramelvogel @definitelyhuman10 and @maxandcheese123  you all have been so great for as long as we’ve been friends. I love you all so incredibly much!! You all are epic as hell and i’m so fucking lucky to have friends like you <3 (and max, i’m glad we obducted you this fine halloween! you’ve been very epic B)

some people I’ve met/im so happy to be my mutuals are @filmcityworld1 (I’VE LOVED working with you and your stories, and when you send me gifs and things that i love! you’ve been very awesome!) @geronimo-scamander-spd (you gave me SO MANY BOOTS.  BLESS YOUR HEART YOU’RE SO SUPPORTIVE AND I LOVE YOUUUUUU ;U;) and @finally-done-thinking (you seem to have come out of absolutly NOWHERE but oh my goodness you have been fun! you’re like my #1 in my ask box and I adore you showed me Sink the Awesome Oposum! I hope to be friends for a while, you’re very epic to talk to!)

AND FINALLY. THE BEST PERSON AND THING TO HAPPEN TO ME THIS YEAR. i am sure you all know who this is (drum roll please!)

@betelgeuseirl

my partner, my baby, my bug, my absolute love.  You are so fucking incredible.

it still blows my mind we’re together, but it blows my mind more that it hasnt been longer than we actually have.

I love our (just about) daily calls, i love our dreams of the future, i love our silly pfp’s on discord and tiktok!  You make me so incredibly happy, words cant describe.  Thank you for coming into my life and being apart of it.  I long for the day we are to meet, and i can not wait to smooch your gorgeous face!

I love you, Bug! And I want everyone to know it <3

OK MY HANDS HURT FROM TYPING BUT YEAH I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AND WOWZERS IF YOU READ ALL THIS CUDDOS TO YOU!

I’m excited to see what you write you write/tag, y’all!

keep being awesome! let’s survive together!

#Chris rambles #I love you all so much #tag people who make you happy and got you through this strange year! #write about a happy and/or epic moment you experinced #bring positivity into this new year!! #anyone can join in!! not just the ones i tagged <3

[maxandcheese123]

Y’all really like tag games huh. Well I’ve decided to make one of my own. What are y’all’s theme songs? Like, what songs can best describe at least one aspect of yourself? You can have as many as you want I’m not judging (but 3 seems like a good limit)

I’ll start with mine

https://youtu.be/F90Cw4l-8NY

https://youtu.be/C7EGMBS6nXI

https://youtu.be/qF-BGHhEpk8

Didn’t say it would have to have lyrics :)

(Also I know undertale blah blah blah shush I like the ost now leave me alone)

If y’all tryna find the meaning I’ll give you one hint: conflict

I’m tagging @chrisrambles @betelgeuseirl @definitelyhuman10 @heir-of-the-chair @shoehorn-with-teeth @caramelvogel

#Youtube #theme song #music #tag game

[yersina]

If you have the time, there’s this no powers soulmate AU idea that I have. In a regular world, where everyone has a red string around their finger, that connects to their soulmate at first contact, Han Yoojin has a pink string. Anyway, I think it’d be funny if regular construction worker hyj got stuck together to CEO/stupidly rich Sung Hyunjae by the hot pink string forcing them to be around each other, and all the fights and funny things that happen because of it. Neither of them can catch a break, and I think it’d be hilarious.

(I headcanon Han Yoohyun as aromantic, so in this AU he doesn’t have a string, but idk how relevant it it would be if you decided to write it)

Yoojin doesn’t actually figure out what the strings mean until he’s out of high school, because for a long time there doesn’t seem to be any pattern to them. His own dark blue string connects him to Yoohyun, but not all of the siblings in his classes have the same string. Sometimes, he sees a golden thread connecting a classmate with their parents, but neither he nor Yoohyun have any tying them to their own. He sees red strings most commonly, which sometimes connect parents or married couples, but sometimes the strings lead away from the person’s spouse. Not a single person who boasts that they’re dating in his class has a red string that connects them to their significant other of the week.

Yoojin hasn’t seen anyone with a bright pink string like his, either.

Despite the ambiguity, though, he does work out a few rules:

Strings that float off into nothingness and disappear a foot or two away from someone’s body means that they haven’t met the person on the other side yet. The entirety of Yoohyun’s string stays visible no matter how far away Yoohyun goes, but even when his end of the pink string bobs and moves, it never seems to point anywhere specific.

The whole string materializes when the people on the two ends touch. It doesn’t have to be skin-to-skin contact—as far as Yoojin can tell, it’s more about the symbolism of the meeting than the actual touch.

The color of the string is related to the relationship. Yoojin hasn’t worked out all of the colors yet, but he knows the blue string connecting him and Yoohyun has to be for siblings. Gold seems to be parental and red is romantic, but there are other, rarer colors that Yoojin still has yet to puzzle through.

For a while, Yoojin worries about Yoohyun’s lack of strings. Yoojin is already at the low end with only two, and Yoohyun has even less than him. But Yoohyun never seems to be worried about it, even when Yoojin tells him about the strings, and Yoojin gradually stops asking. Maybe Yoohyun is happiest with his one string, and whatever being is tying the strings between people got it right for him.

He does wonder, sometimes, what the pink string means for him. He doesn’t trust the red strings, not really, not when one tied his parents together and didn’t leave room for a single golden thread between them and him or Yoohyun. But the pink… Maybe it’s something better.

-

Yoojin boards the bus that’ll take him home, squeezing in between the people already on board until he finds a space around the middle of the bus, standing next to a row of seats.

He’s prepared to spend the ride staring out of the window like he usually does, watching the blur of buildings and trees pass by outside, but this time, when he lifts his head, his eyes catch on the strings tied to his pinky finger. More importantly, his eyes trace the pink one, which no longer drifts off into space like it used to.

Instead, it’s attached to the man in front of him.

What.

Yoojin stares in disbelief at the businessman sitting in the seat in front of him, pale hair slicked back perfectly and dressed in a neat and obviously expensive suit, even to Yoojin’s inexperienced eye. A leather briefcase is propped up in his lap and Yoojin is pretty sure that the watch he spies on the man’s wrist costs more than Yoojin’s monthly rent.

Their shoes are touching.

Yoojin has never seen a person that he is more convinced doesn’t belong in his life. How is Yoojin connected to this man? The whole idea seems absurd.

For the first time, Yoojin doubts the accuracy of the strings.

“Can I help you?” Yoojin winces. Apparently his staring has caught the attention of the man.

“I—” His breath catches in his throat as he abruptly becomes overwhelmingly aware that this is his chance to get to know the person on the other end of his string. This person, who wears uncomfortably expensive clothes, looks proper and put together in a way that Yoojin will never be able to manage, and looks like he hasn’t done a second of menial tasks in his life. “No, sorry. Excuse me.”

He dips his head hastily in apology and spends the rest of the bus ride staring out of one of the windows to his right, refusing to take a single glance at the man. He thinks he might feel a gaze on his face during the ride, but the man never speaks up, and Yoojin steps off the bus at his stop, convinced that he’ll never see the man ever again.

-

“No, you don’t understand, he was wearing a suit,” Yoojin emphasizes. “Can you imagine me with someone wearing a suit?”

“Hyung.” Yoohyun’s exasperation is loud even over the phone. “I wear suits.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” Yoojin tests the ripeness of a tomato carefully. Hm. He sets that one down and picks another one up. “I look at you and all I see is the kid who used to pick his nose and wipe it on my shirt.”

“Hyung!”

“It’s true! My clothes went through the wash at least twice as often as yours did because of it.” Yoojin puts the third tomato in his basket and moves on to the green onions.

“Hyung, that’s not true.”

“You can’t tell me it’s not true because you never did the laundry.” Yoojin manages to browse through the selection of green onions and make his pick without a single word from Yoohyun. “See, you know I’m right so you’re not saying anything.”

“No, I’m speechless from how wrong you are.”

“You just won’t admit it—” Yoojin’s attention snags on the way his pink string suddenly jumps in the air, pulling taut just in time for the businessman to walk through the sliding doors of the grocery store.

“Hyung?”

Yoojin turns his back to the door, heart pounding. “He’s here,” he hisses.

“Who’s there?”

“The guy!”

“What guy?”

Yoojin groans. “I’ll call you back.”

Yoohyun hums a note of confused agreement. “Talk to you later, hyung.”

Yoojin ends the call right as the businessman joins him near the produce. The businessman is still dressed too formally—he isn’t wearing a suit jacket anymore, but Yoojin doesn’t know anyone who would wear a dress shirt and slacks to poke through the green peppers available at the nearest grocery store.

Whether it’s out of innocent or morbid curiosity, Yoojin stays rooted in his spot, watching the man pick up a cucumber and turn it in the fluorescent lighting like it’s a scientific specimen. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it,” he can’t help but say when it looks like the man is about to put a bruised zucchini into his basket.

The man turns to him, eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

Yoojin, cursing himself all the while, reaches over and points at a scratch in the skin of the zucchini. “It’ll go bad more quickly if you choose one with scratches. Also, it’s better if you pick one with shinier skin.” Yoojin inspects the available zucchini quickly and picks one that he’d buy for himself. “See, this one is better.” He presents the zucchini to the man.

The businessman slowly puts the one in his hand back on the shelf and reaches out to take Yoojin’s. “Thank you,” he says. Yoojin feels the brush of the man’s fingers against his palm down to his bones.

“If you want to buy good cucumbers, you should choose the ones that are more firm,” he adds, not sure what else to say. He subtly shakes his hand out by his side, trying to rid himself of the lingering sensation of fingertips on his skin.

Thankfully, the smile growing on the man’s face pulls his attention away from his hand. It’s the kind of smile that people use when they’re trying to hide amusement, and Yoojin’s hackles automatically rise at the thought. “This fellow customer has been so helpful,” he says amicably, tucking the zucchini that Yoojin handed him into his basket. “Perhaps you’d be willing to help me with the rest of my groceries as well?”

Yoojin makes a face. “I have my own things to shop for.”

“Then we can accompany each other.”

“There’s no need—”

“Where do you suppose the aisle with noodles is?”

His pink string is, Yoojin finds, a complete asshole.

Unfortunately, Yoojin can’t figure out a proper excuse before the man begins herding him in the direction of the opposite side of the store, so he resigns himself to his fate. “You’re going in the wrong direction,” he says once they pass the noodle aisle.

The man hums with interest. “Am I?”

Yoojin revises his assessment. His pink string is actually insane.

The man ends up dragging him down the sauce aisle. Yoojin leaves him to stare blankly at the array of soy sauce while he grabs another container of gochujang and a bottle of rice syrup. Yoojin watches him stare at the shelves of bottles for a very amusing twenty seconds before reaching out and snagging the brand that he uses at home. “Here,” he says, pressing the bottle into the man’s hands. This time, it leaves less sparks. “Have you never cooked before?”

“Knowing how to cook and shopping for ingredients seem to be two different skills.”

Yoojin snorts before he can stop himself. “This ahjussi is good at talking around the topic. Whatever he means, he should say.”

The raised eyebrow is back. “And this customer isn’t very polite to his fellow customers.”

“The other customer was impolite first, so it seems both are at fault.”

The man rolls his shoulders in an aborted shrug, like it’s true but he can’t be bothered to acknowledge it. “What is this impolite customer’s name?” The interest in his expression feels genuine.

“If that’s what you want to know, then you should give your own.”

“I’m Sung Hyunjae,” the man says easily, though the way he looks expectantly at Yoojin afterwards makes Yoojin think that he should recognize the name.

“I’m Han Yoojin,” he says, despite the very Yoohyun-like voice inside him that says he shouldn’t give his name to strangers that he’s known for all of two minutes.

“Would Han Yoojin-ssi like to help me choose a bag of somyeon to buy as well?”

And Yoojin should say ‘no’ and continue with his own grocery shopping, but he feels the incorporeal weight of the string around his finger and finds himself saying, “Will Sung Hyunjae-ssi be able to choose without my assistance?” instead.

Sung Hyunjae smiles.

When they go to check out, Yoojin finds out that Sung Hyunjae already paid for his groceries when he goes to hand over his card. “That was unnecessary,” he protests once he’s caught up to Sung Hyunjae at the entrance.

Sung Hyunjae hardly even blinks. “What if I wanted to pay for Han Yoojin-ssi?”

“It’s still unnecessary.”

“Then see it as someone paying for their junior.”

Yoojin pauses. “Should I call you hyung, then?” he says, trying not to laugh. It feels unwieldy and informal in his mouth, and even without asking, he knows that Sung Hyunjae would agree.

“Let’s get closer first,” he says, as expected.

Yoojin chooses not to linger over the choice of words—when are they ever going to meet again?—and instead nods politely to Sung Hyunjae. “Thank you for your assistance today,” he says, even though he was the one to help Sung Hyunjae choose his items and having him pay for Yoojin’s groceries felt more like a favor to the other man than himself.

“It was my pleasure.”

Yoojin leaves Sung Hyunjae at his car and heads towards the bus stop, doing his best to convince himself not to look back as he walks away.

(He gives in eventually while he waits at the bus stop, watching the pink string bob and shift as Sung Hyunjae drives back to wherever he must live. It’s much more active than it ever had been before, and unfortunately just as attention-grabbing and annoying as the person it’s connected to.

Maybe that’s what the pink color stands for, Yoojin thinks wryly as he boards the bus. Annoyance.)

-

Yoojin really, really expects to never see Sung Hyunjae again. Seoul is a big city, and it looks like they run in completely different circles. Why would he ever meet the man again?

Unfortunately, Sung Hyungjae does not seem to have gotten this memo.

“Ah, Yoojin-gun,” Sung Hyunjae greets when he steps up to the counter. He’s wearing his full business suit again, and Yoojin has a brief flash of worry that his workplace is near this coffee shop. Will he have to see Sung Hyunjae all the time from now on?

Yoojin shoves this impending spiral to the side in favor of giving Sung Hyunjae a dry look. “If Sung Hyunjae-ssi will call me Yoojin-gun, then I will continue to call him ahjussi.”

Sung Hyunjae, the bastard, just smiles. “Would you prefer Yoojin-ah?”

Yoojin can’t help the shudder that runs down his spine, face twisting like he just took a bite of a lemon. Coupled with that expression… “Yoojin-gun is fine,” he says reluctantly. “What does ahjussi want to drink?”

Sung Hyunjae just orders a black coffee, which seems terribly in-character for him. “Does Sung Hyunjae-ssi not have a coffee maker to make coffee for himself at home?” Yoojin asks, handing Sung Hyunjae’s card back to him and beginning the incredibly arduous task of filling a travel cup with coffee that has already been brewed.

Sung Hyunjae follows him around the counter. “Either way, I’m here to see Yoojin-gun, of course.”

Yoojin frowns. Sung Hyunjae would’ve had no idea that Yoojin works here, if this is his first time visiting the coffee shop. Has Yoojin just not seen him?

He fits a lid over the cup and hands it over to Sung Hyunjae. “Have you been here before?” he asks curiously. It’s possible that he came in during a rush hour and Yoojin just didn’t have time to register who he was, though that seems unlikely.

Sung Hyunjae smiles and takes the coffee. “No. Thank you for the coffee, Yoojin-gun. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Yoojin frowns at Sung Hyunjae’s retreating back. Surely he’s just imagining how foreboding that sounded.

-

“No.” Yoojin stops in his tracks and gapes.

Sung Hyungjae waves. “Hello, Yoojin-gun.”

“You—” Yoojin looks around wildly, not sure what he’s expecting to see, but it’s still just the walking path next to the Han River that he was strolling along before, and still just Sung Hyunjae sitting on a bench to the side of that path. “Are you stalking me?”

“Why would I stalk Yoojin-gun?”

“That’s the question I should ask my stalker.”

“I’ll wait here until you’ve contacted them.”

“Then I’ll ask again: why are you here, Sung Hyunjae-ssi?”

Sung Hyunjae just smiles. Yoojin wonders how he always manages to make the expression so that it perfectly gets on Yoojin’s nerves. “I’m just here to enjoy a walk along the river.” It’s a completely reasonable explanation, but somehow Yoojin doesn’t believe him. “It would be more enjoyable if I could join Yoojin-gun.”

Yoojin doesn’t even pause to think about it. “No.” He spins on his heel and heads back the way he came, never mind the fact that he really did come out here to take a walk.

Walks can happen any time. Avoiding Sung Hyunjae takes priority.

-

A week later, Yoojin spots Sung Hyunjae standing outside of a high-rise building, looking down at his phone.

Yoojin crosses to the other side of the road.

-

“No,” he whispers to himself, looking in through the window of the coffee shop he was prepared to step into, and resigns himself to going without caffeine for the morning.

-

“I cannot believe you.” Yoojin frowns at Sung Hyunjae.

They’re back on a bus.

He resolutely does not make conversation for the entire, twenty minute commute to the stop that he gets off at. He also resolutely does not look at Sung Hyunjae, who, based on what Yoojin can see out of the corner of his eye, spends that time smiling at Yoojin.

He does see a young woman sneaking peeks at the handsome businessman sitting a few seats down from her and wishes that he could live in her blissful ignorance.

-

“So you’ve never spoken?” Yoohyun frowns and puts a hand out for the bowl of cut potatoes that Yoojin passes to him for the pot of doenjang jjigae simmering on the stove.

“We spoke once,” Yoojin corrects. “Twice, if you count the coffee shop. Wait, three…?” But do any of those meetings really count as talking to Sung Hyunjae?

“And you know for certain that he’s the one who’s connected to you?”

Yoojin shakes his hand at Yoohyun even though he can’t see the string dangling from his pinky. “It’s hard to miss.” It’s actually rather eye-catching when Yoojin is standing next to Sung Hyunjae, since it contrasts so sharply with the man’s entire look.

Yoohyun shoves Yoojin’s hand out of his face with an exasperated look. “Fine, fine. I just thought I’d ask. Can you get the eggs from the fridge while I cut the mushrooms?”

Yoojin does as he asks, grabbing the container of gyeran jangjorim and bringing it over to the table where they’ll be eating. “Like I said, I see him around everywhere, but I don’t want to talk to someone I don’t know.”

“You don’t know anything about him, then?”

“He’s probably rich,” Yoojin says, wrinkling his nose. “He said that his name is Sung Hyunjae. He drinks his coffee black.”

Yoohyun stops in the middle of putting mushrooms in the pan to turn around and stare at him. “Sung Hyunjae?”

“Yes?”

“You’re sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoojin impatiently gestures for him to turn back to the stove. “Yah, Yoohyun-ah, if you have something to say, just say it.”

Yoohyun slowly turns back around and gives the mushrooms a few half-hearted swipes. “Hyung, if you’re right, the Sung Hyunjae that I’m thinking of might be one of the richest men in Korea. Top one hundred, at least.”

That can’t be right. “He rides the bus,” Yoojin points out reasonably.

Yoohyun gives him a look. “Rich people can’t ride the bus?”

“Why would they?” Sung Hyunjae does seem like the type to have a chauffeur drive him around everywhere. It fits his arrogant, handsome chaebol look.

“Hyung, can you…?” Yoohyun gestures vaguely to the pan before raising his phone. “I’ll see if I can pull up a picture of him.”

Yoojin sets his hands on his hips in indignation. “You’re asking your brother, the person who raised you, so rudely?”

“That only worked on me the first two times you did it,” Yoohyun says, raising an eyebrow. “Eventually you have to run out of ways to guilt me into doing things for you.” Yoojin keeps staring. Yoohyun sighs. “Hyung, could you please make sure the mushrooms don’t burn while I look up this person to help you?”

“Sure, Yoohyun-ah.”

Yoohyun snorts and steps to the side so Yoojin can take over at the stove. “Whoa, he has a lot of overseas investments, apparently,” he hears Yoohyun mutter after a few moments. “Mostly in technology—oh, here we go.” He tilts the phone in Yoojin’s direction. “Is this him?”

Yoojin’s not sure what he was expecting when he looks over at Yoohyun’s phone, but it’s still not a professional picture of the same man who may or may not have been stalking him for the past month. “Huh. Yes, that’s him.” He returns to cooking the beoseot bokkeum, but for some reason, the only thought that runs through his head at that moment is that the Sung Hyunjae he saw once in the grocery store, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and looking confusedly at the shelves of soy sauce, looks much better than the one that smirks at him through the screen of Yoohyun’s phone.

Yoohyun elbows him out of the way of the stove so he can begin adding seasonings to the pan. “You said that you’ve never seen a thread in the color that you’re connected with before?”

“Pretty much.” He has seen the pink before once or twice, but it’s hard to tell what it might mean when it connects two strangers. He catches Yoohyun’s concerned look and shoves him gently on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it so much, Yoohyun-ah. Let’s focus on dinner, okay?”

If his current track record with Sung Hyunjae is any indication, he’ll be forced to figure it out soon anyway.

-

When Yoojin next spots Sung Hyunjae at a crosswalk intersection, the most he can muster is a deep sigh of resignation. “I’ve seen Sung Hyunjae-ssi more often than my own brother recently,” Yoojin says, waving to him in greeting. It’s somehow reassuring to see Sung Hyunjae look equally startled to see him this time, rather than infuriatingly smug. Of course, his version of startled is a delicate raise of both eyebrows rather than just one, but Yoojin takes it as a victory.

“Yoojin-gun,” he greets. Unfortunately, Yoojin has no other option than to join him at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Yoojin-gun does seem like an older brother type.”

Yoojin eyes the man next to him and tries to imagine him with any siblings. Not any younger siblings, surely, but perhaps one that’s older? Though the thought of Sung Hyunjae calling anyone hyung or noona… “Sung Hyunjae-ssi is an only child,” he declares.

“Yoojin-gun seems very confident about this.”

Yoojin is, strangely. “Yes.”

“Hm,” Sung Hyunjae hums. “I have a sister who’s older by thirteen years.”

“Do you?”

“Certainly.”

Yoojin narrows his eyes at Sung Hyunjae’s guileless expression. “Sung Hyunjae-ssi doesn’t have any siblings,” he decides.

The light changes. “My sister will be so disappointed to hear this when I tell her,” Sung Hyunjae says mildly as they cross the street.

“Sung Hyunjae-ssi shouldn’t lie to strangers.”

“Yoojin-gun is so cold for calling me a stranger when he said himself that he sees me more often than his brother.”

“Don’t make up strange meanings to my words, ahjussi. I can always just look up the real answer on Naver.” Once they reach the other side of the crosswalk, Yoojin takes two steps before he realizes that no one is following him. “Oh, are you headed somewhere else, then?”

Sung Hyunjae’s pause lasts for another second before a corner of his lips lifts. “The best place for me to be is by Yoojin-gun’s side.” It’s a statement, but there’s a question buried beneath it as well.

Yoojin throws his hands up in surrender. Perhaps if he and Sung Hyunjae get sick of each other, the universe will grow tired of pushing them together. “Fine. Fine! If you do anything suspicious, I will call the police,” he threatens. “I’m going to go eat dinner at that restaurant over there. Come on.”

The dinner, surprisingly, goes no worse than any of their other interactions. Sung Hyunjae, in his collared shirt and slacks, should look out of place amongst the worn tables and chairs of the family restaurant that Yoojin and Yoohyun have been going to since they were children, but instead he looks… comfortable. Softer.

Yoojin glances down at his string once during the dinner, throat crawling with some thick, unnamed emotion. It’s still there, swaying gently in the air between them.

Maybe he can give Sung Hyunjae a chance. Maybe there’s something more to their chance meetings, a reason why the string connects them.

When he looks up again, there’s a there’s a split second where he’s convinced that Sung Hyunjae’s eyes are unerringly trained on the base of Yoojin’s pinky where the string is tied, but between one blink and the next, he has his infuriating smile plastered back in his face and Yoojin uneasily brushes it off as his own mistake or a trick of the light.

Strange.

“Ahjussi,” he says once they’ve finished their food. “You’ll be paying, right?”

“I should get something in return for paying for Yoojin-gun so often, shouldn’t I?” Despite his words, though, Sung Hyunjae puts down his card without waiting for a promise.

“Sung Hyunjae-ssi seems like he has the money to spare.”

“Is Yoojin-gun so confident that he’s what I prefer to spend my money on?”

“I trust that Sung Hyunjae-ssi is polite enough to pay for the person in need in front of him instead of waiting to purchase another unnecessary accessory.”

“Yoojin-gun should be my next accessory, then.”

Yoojin makes a face. “What nonsense is this ahjussi saying?” Is he just an item to this rich person? Thankfully, one of the restaurant employees interrupts to return Sung Hyunjae’s card and that line of conversation is dropped.

Yoojin takes a deep breath once they step out of the restaurant, feeling like there might be something different, something changed in the air. The sun is just starting to set on the horizon, and the rays of golden light reflecting off of metal and glass are equal parts warming and blinding.

“I’ll see Yoojin-gun again, hm?” Sung Hyunjae hums, turned away from the direction that Yoojin will be going. He still doesn’t know anything about Sung Hyunjae, much less have his contact information, but he believes it. He’ll have time to unravel all of this man’s mysteries in the future.

They’ll meet again.

“See you, Hyunjae-ssi.”

#definitelyhuman10 #can I just say that I find your username so funny #sina writes #sctir #s classes that i raised #red string of fate au #I hope you don’t mind that I kinda played around w the universe concept a bit? #this is really only abt half of what I originally planned to write #but I was reaaaallly starting to struggle w the story towards the end so you get this halfhearted cliffhanger instead orz #my headcanon is that pink is for qprs #but that doesn’t have a huge bearing on the story as it is rn lol #also btw it’s fun to hear that someone else headcanons yh as aro haha #happy pride month from this aroace fanfic author to you all #I’m still working on prompts btw!! it’s just taking me a bit to get thru them

[yersina]

If you’re still looking for fic requests, how about Han Yoojin’s experience with his leg? How becoming newly disabled for the first time and having people look down on him not only because of his F class status, but also because he physically can’t work for that long before needing a break. His struggles to do simple things like walk to the bathroom, or running.

Then there’s the little things he does after regression because even with his leg healed he still operates with that mental pain. Leaning on things he’s next to, being amazed every time he runs after Peace, or a little sigh of relief every time he’s allowed to sit down.

(Sorry for being long winded, it’s just I always feel like canon could go more into Yoojin’s disability and how it affected him, because he had it for years and it definitely shaped how he currently interacts with the world.)

Yoojin sits in his hospital bed and thinks about his options for a long, long time.

See, this wouldn’t normally be an issue. Yoojin is very careful about budgeting his money: he makes sure to look up any existing information on the dungeons he’s planning on going into, he estimates how much he needs for the week or month or however long he’ll need to last until his next dungeon, he makes concessions for any armor or weapons that he’ll need to buy, he adds in whatever recovery items he’ll need afterwards, and he ensures that he meets that threshold while he’s in the dungeon.

And yet, here he is sitting on a hospital bed for the second time in as many months, almost too woozy from pain to properly sort through what his choices are now.

After all, no one pays a hunter that goes down at the beginning of a dungeon.

“Han Yoojin-nim,” a nurse greets, rapping politely on the door. After checking his IV and vitals, she nods to herself. “Your recovery is going as expected,” she says with a smile. Yoojin can’t bring himself to return it. “We usually try to operate as soon as possible, but it says on your records that you’re a hunter.”

“Yes.”

“We generally encourage hunters to purchase healing potions. They heal much more completely than conventional medicine now.”

Yoojin grits his teeth. He knows. “That’s… not an option for me right now,” he admits reluctantly. He bought a new weapon for this dungeon—he’s out of extra funds for at least a month or two.

There’s a downwards twist to her lips as she continues looking down at his file, one that tells Yoojin that she understands the situation that he’s in right now. “Surgery is the only other option then.”

It’s the answer that he expected, the conclusion that he’d come to a few moments before she’d walked into the room, but it’s still not what he wants to hear. “Fine,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. Surgery will be cheaper than a healing potion, even if the recovery period afterwards is much longer. He doesn’t have the money to support himself while he’s recovering. He’ll probably barely have enough to cover the surgery itself.

Fuck.

The nurse nods once perfunctorily. “We’ll schedule you for the surgery right away then. Have you already been briefed on all of the operations that we’ll need to do?”

“Yes.” And hadn’t that been a fun packet to read through. A comminuted break in his lower leg and a broken kneecap. Recovery might take anywhere from a few months to a year. Just his luck.

“If you need anything, you can always hit the call button.” She points to the remote on the bed next to his arm.

“Thank you,” he says, mostly too tired to be any ruder, and watches her shadow leave the room.

After another moment, he slowly reaches up and balls his fists into his eyes, needing the pressure to keep him grounded. Fuck. Fuck.

Someone had left his cellphone on the bedside table, and he can feel its presence mocking him even with his eyes closed and hunched over on the hospital bed. He knows it’s there, and he knows what he has to do. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even entertain it as a possibility, but he’s genuinely not sure what he’s going to do once he’s out of the hospital.

Oh god, what is he going to do?

After his breathing calms down to a more reasonable tempo, he leaves one hand knuckling his eye ridge and uses the other to fumble for his phone. His thumb pauses over a contact that he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

He taps the contact.

The line rings for much longer than he expects it to. Not that that’s surprising anymore. The line connects. “Hyung, I told you to stop contacting me.”

Ah, the voice that he’s so missed hearing.

“Yoohyun,” he says. He wonders what he must sound like to Yoohyun. He wonders if Yoohyun can even hear the nuance in it anymore. “I need your help.”

The pause that comes is painfully long. Yoojin works on unraveling the hem of his hospital-issued blanket. “What happened?”

Yoojin takes a deep breath. “I was in a dungeon—”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop going into dungeons?” Yoohyun interrupts sharply.

Yoojin glares at the opposite wall. If Yoohyun just listened— “Regardless of whether you did, it’s not any of your business anymore.”

“Doesn’t it become my business when you call me to ask for help?”

This was a mistake. “Never mind,” Yoojin bites out, resigning himself to finding some other avenue of procuring money. He can try taking out a loan at the bank. If nothing else, he’s sure that there are people out there willing to lend to someone dripping with the sheer amount of desperation that Yoojin is.

He hangs up without waiting for any other acknowledgement from Yoohyun and ignores the one attempt at a call back afterwards.

-

Seok Simyeong unfortunately finds him a few hours after his operation. “Han Yoojin-ssi,” he says, like the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Yoojin huffs as much of a laugh as he’s able to. The painkillers make him feel much better, but he’s also so tired. “Seok Simyeong-ssi,” he greets. It’s perhaps the most polite he’s ever been to the man, and it shows in Seok Simyeong’s expression. “Why are you here?”

“The guild leader told me that you called him recently,” he says, still lingering unpleasantly at the entrance of Yoojin’s room. Yoojin hopes that he gets chastised by a nurse for doing so. “I came to find out what you wanted.” And make sure you don’t bother him again goes unsaid.

Yoojin wheezes out another laugh and turns his head towards the window. Maybe if Seok Simyeong had showed up a day or even a few hours ago… Well, there’s no use in dwelling on ‘what if’s. “My surgery went smoothly,” he says, raising an arm as if to say ‘you see?’ “If Yoohyunnie wants to give me a few hundred for the next few months so I can eat, that would be good.” He’s not even being sarcastic. “Maybe throw in another hundred for delivery fees.”

Seok Simyeong presses his lips together like he’s trying to hide a frown. Yoojin wants to tell him that he ought to work on hiding his annoyance better, but that’s not really his problem, is it? “I’ll let him know,” he says stiffly. And then, just like that, he leaves.

Yoojin gives a mental shrug. Well, if he got what he came here for.

Sometime during his physical therapy in the weeks afterwards, Yoojin decides to wander over to the financial administration department of the hospital and finds out that his bill has been transferred to a different party and that any of his out-of-pocket costs will be covered. Yoojin looks down at the paperwork and can’t suppress a laugh.

So, good enough to pay for his hospital costs but not good enough to come and help his hyung with recovery, huh?

-

Recovery takes forever.

Yoojin hates every single second of it. Each moment that he spends languishing in boredom and pain is another moment he feels himself getting weaker and another notch on his anxiety towards going back to dungeoning. He has enough for now to keep himself afloat in relative comfort, but sooner or later he’ll have to return to being a working hunter, and there’s nothing that he dreads more.

Some days, he almost wishes that the pain never stops.

-

“Hey, Yoojin-ssi,” Kim Minchul booms, clapping a heavy hand to Yoojin’s shoulder enthusiastically. Yoojin hisses a curse when his knee buckles under the weight, enough that he stumbles over the even ground outside the dungeon gate. “Whoa, there! Still getting your feet back under you?”

Yoojin gives him a weak smile. There’s no furtive way to rub his knee to ease the ache, so he just leaves it, even though the pain is almost driving him to distraction. His doctor technically hasn’t cleared him for heavy physical activity yet (which, on a scale of fitness, probably lies somewhere below dungeoning), but Yoojin can’t wait any longer. “Not enough to keep me away.”

Kim Minchul beams. “That’s the spirit!” He gives Yoojin another painful slap on the back and wanders off to talk to the other party members.

Kim Minchul is one of the good ones, Yoojin thinks, wobbling over to the nearest chair-height surface and sitting down. It’s why Yoojin chose him as the leader of his first foray back into a dungeon. Yoojin needs someone who won’t mind picking up his slack—or, even if he did mind, be polite enough to not point it out.

The dungeon goes… fine. Painfully. Yoojin is usually flexible enough to switch between the watch group, which checks for any stragglers that the initial dungeon clearing team might have missed, and the mining group, which collects any items that might be valuable, but this time he’s firmly assigned to the mining team. Even that’s harder than it should be, and Yoojin begins lagging behind after an hour of work.

Three hours in, and he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Yoojin-ssi,” Kim Minchul says with a frown. “I think you should stop.”

Yoojin is drenched in sweat and is wishing desperately for some painkillers, but he can’t stop here. “I can keep going. We still have over half of the job left.” No matter how slow he’s going, it still has to be better than being down a person.

“We do, but I’m worried about your health.” Kim Minchul looks him up and down critically before nodding decisively. “I’m sending you home.” He must spot the look on Yoojin’s face because he adds, “I’ll make sure to send you your share, okay? Just go home and rest.”

So Yoojin goes.

A week later, he gets a check in the mail. It’s definitely less than he should’ve gotten for completing a job of that size, but it’s more than fair for the amount of work that he did. Fair, but still not enough.

Yoojin manages to stick it out for another month before he’s back to dungeoning, this time with someone who’s less likely to step in out of compassion.

-

Yoojin’s leg heals, eventually.

Yoojin’s knee does not.

“Post-traumatic arthritis,” his doctor explains after Yoojin finally gives in and schedules an appointment. “It’s not uncommon after knee injuries. It seems like you have a relatively mild case, thankfully. Try to keep your movement to a comfortable level, and come in again if the pain gets worse.”

And Yoojin tries, he really does. The idea of chronic pain for the rest of his life terrifies him whenever he stops to think about the possibility, and he wants to avoid it if at all possible.

He starts to learn his tells, the way his knee is sometimes stiffer than usual in the morning, or is more prone to buckling under his weight, or pops uncomfortably if he sits or walks for too long. It’s a slow, uncomfortable process, relearning his body like this, but he doesn’t have any other option other than to live with it, so he does.

It gentles, eventually, or maybe it becomes so familiar that it fades to the back of his mind. He learns to budget around his lower income, preferring to err on the side of whole and healthy than richer but debilitated. It sits between his shoulder blades like an itch, the idea that he’s not doing enough, but he grows used to the habit of letting his body decide what’s enough instead of his mind, and he tentatively decides that he’s healthier for it.

-

And then Yoohyun fucking goes and dies for him.

What the fuck.

-

The fact that he literally went back in time doesn’t really sink in until Yoojin’s second day back in the past, when he wakes up and shuffles to the bathroom, and doesn’t get an ache in his knee from standing in the shower.

Even then, he brushes it off as the start to a good day until it’s nearing bed time and he realizes that his knee hasn’t so much as twinged the entire day. Oh, right, he thinks faintly, hand clasped over the knee that fractures three years from now. That hasn’t happened yet.

Still, that moment of enlightenment isn’t enough to break years worth of habits. Yoohyun looks at him concernedly when he chooses to sit instead of stand most of the time, but he never comments on it. Yerim calls him an old man for holding on to the railing whenever they have to go up a flight of stairs. The first time that Yoojin goes for an entire day training (playing with) Peace, he’s genuinely shocked at the end from how good he feels. Tired, but bearable. Normal.

It takes no time at all to accumulate new injuries and wounds to make up for the ones that were washed away by time, but even after weeks and months, he never quite forgets this one that his body doesn’t bear anymore.

#definitelyhuman10 #sina writes #sctir #s classes that i raised #fanfiction #ngl I 100% forgot that was a thing that happened and was like ‘yoojin’s leg???’ when I got this ask #even tho I reference it in like every pre-reg scene that I write for the extra angst #i did a decent amount of research on the medical side of this #not only have I confirmed that I definitely do not want to be a doctor #this is also (probably mostly) medically accurate #probably. #my suspicion is that canon yj either had a comminuted (multiple) leg fracture that healed really well #or he used a really nice healing potion afterwards #for him to be able to brush it off this easily

[yersina]

Okay so. I know in canon that Bak Yerim, Moon Hyuna, and Kang Soyoung + Riette (occasionally) all hang out together and are friends. They go out for game night and go to restaurants together.

I think it’d be really funny if you wanted to write a mini thing where this group goes to an arcade together for game night and just demolish the place. Figuratively or literally! Who’s better at the claw machine? Who’s a sore loser? Who breaks the most things? These are all fun questions you can answer!

(This is obviously if you’re still taking requests. I love all your writing so much, have a nice day!)

One day after meeting up for dinner, Hyuna is walking Soyoung and Yerim to their respective bus stops. The two younger girls are a step ahead of her, chatting animatedly about a dungeon Soyoung cleared earlier that week (“There were wyverns, Yerim-ah! Almost dragons!”), when Yerim breaks off with a gasp and presses her face to the window of a dark building.

Hyuna peers inside. “An arcade?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to one,” Yerim says, and there’s more than a small trace of wistfulness to her voice.

“You’ve never been?” Soyoung asks curiously, pressing her nose to the window next to Yerim and knocking their heads together gently.

“Never had the time or money.” Yerim says it with a nonchalant shrug, but Hyuna has some suspicions, pieced together from different fragments of their conversations and dinners together.

Well, there’s no time like the present.

“Let’s go,” she declares, and pushes open the doors without waiting for agreement.

1. Skeeball

“Oh, I remember this!” Soyoung makes a beeline for the back of the arcade, dragging Yerim with her, while Hyuna pauses to pay for some coins. “You just throw the balls into the holes over there,” she’s explaining when Hyuna joins them again.

“And you just have to get a high score, right?” Yerim bounces on her toes, giving her arms a stretch for show. “Should be easy!”

It’s not until Yerim has already slotted the two necessary coins into the machine and she’s winding up her arm like a baseball pitcher that Hyuna realizes that maybe they should’ve explained the concept a bit further. “Wait—”

A loud crash answers her as Yerim throws the ball full force at the target with the highest points. The new point total flickers on the screen for a brief moment before the machine croaks and completely dies.

All of them stare at the broken skeeball machine.

“Oops?” Yerim squeaks.

“You’re suppose to toss it underhand,” Soyoung chimes in helpfully.

Hyuna pinches the bridge of her nose and thanks whatever dungeon gods or higher beings might be out there that she’s an S-Rank and can afford to pay for a little property damage.

2. Basketball

“Here, let’s try this one instead,” Hyuna suggests, steering Yerim in the direction of the basketball game after several reassurances to the arcade proprietor that she fully intends on compensating any damage that they cause. “This one’s overhand—it’s just basketball but miniature. You know basketball, right?”

“Of course I do, eonni,” Yerim whines. “There’s a basketball court at my high school, you know.”

“Let’s see who can get the higher score!” Soyoung chirps excitedly and quickly goes to claim a machine for herself.

Hyuna, as much as she’d like to join in or wander off to find her own game to play, figures that having at least one person on guard duty to do damage control probably wouldn’t be remiss. “I’ll be referee.”

The first half of the game goes well. Hyuna alternates between cheering for Soyoung, who’s obviously played before and is making most of her shots, and Yerim, who picks up the movement quickly and doesn’t lag too far behind. “Fighting, Yerim!”

And then, with about fifteen seconds left on the timer, Yerim takes a glance at Soyoung’s score and lets out a wail. “Eonni, you’re beating me by so much!”

“Twelve seconds left!” Soyoung screeches in return.

The next ball that Yerim picks up audibly crunches beneath her fingers. Hyuna stares. Soyoung pauses in the middle of throwing a ball. “Game over,” the machines declare within seconds of each other.

“Uh.” Yerim hesitantly presents the squashed ball to Hyuna. “Sorry, I got excited?”

Hyuna sighs and mentally adds it to her tally of damages.

3. Air hockey

“Maybe let’s stay away from ball games.” Hyuna pushes them in the direction of the rest of the arcade. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices that the few other arcade patrons still lingering around are openly staring at them, and bares her teeth at them in a smile. All of them, satisfactorily, immediately flee.

“Oh, oh!” Soyoung grabs Yerim by the hand and pulls her to a neon-lit table near the middle of the hall. “Air hockey! This was one of my favorites as a kid.”

Yerim runs a hand over the dotted surface skeptically. “Air hockey?”

“Yeah! Hyuna-eonni, wanna play a game with me to help me demonstrate?”

Hyuna cracks her knuckles with a grin. “Get ready to go down.” She doesn’t care that Soyoung is almost ten years younger than her. Hyuna doesn’t plan on showing any mercy.

Unfortunately, Soyoung ends up winning the air hockey game too, if only because Hyuna hasn’t stepped foot inside an arcade since she was in college. “That was fun, eonni!” she says with a wide smile. “Usually people can’t even score a single point against me, but you got two in.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and hands her spot over to Yerim. “Yah, Soyoung-ah. I’m up for a rematch anytime.”

Yerim steps up to the table, a comically focused expression on her face. “Go easy on me, eonni.”

“We can start slow.”

Yerim plays her first game like most beginners do, just protecting her goal without much thought, too focused on keeping track of the puck. After Soyoung wins that game, Yerim immediately tugs on Hyuna’s sleeve. “Again!”

Hyuna obligingly slots a few more coins into the machine and starts up another game . This time, Yerim is able to get a few more attacks in and, to Hyuna’s relieved delight, doesn’t even cause major property damage while she’s at it.

And then, while she’s bending over to add even more coins for a third game, she notices grooves in the side of the plastic rink that definitely hadn’t been there before. Grooves that, if she checked, she’s certain would match the side of an air hockey puck.

Hyuna might as well buy the entire establishment at this point. “Actually, how about let’s try something else?”

4. Punching bag machine

When Hyuna spots the punching bag machine, she does a few mental calculations and decides that it’s perfect. It’s made to be hit. “Here,” she says, slapping the machine. “We can punch the bag and see who’s stronger.”

Yerim’s hand shoots up. “Oh! Let me go first!”

In hindsight, Hyuna really should’ve anticipated the way the bag completely flies off with the force of Yerim’s punch.

5. Claw machine

“Okay,” Hyuna says, grasping Yerim by the shoulders and leading her around the arcade until they’re situated in front of a claw machine. “This one takes patience, okay? Delicacy and patience.”

“And money,” Soyoung chimes in, scanning the variety of claw machines available. “Oh, this one’s cute, with all the stuffed animals!”

Yerim joins her, nose pressed against the plastic. “Oh, hey, that one kind of looks like Peace, doesn’t it? Ahjussi’s horned lion?” There is indeed a particularly red lion plush with yellow tufts of fur making up its mane that reminds Hyuna of Yoojin’s horned lion pet lying near the drop area, though it’s unfortunately buried beneath another stuffed animal.

“Oh, the lion? That one’s cute, but I think that dragon over there is even cuter.”

“I’m gonna win the lion,” Yerim declares determinedly. “I’ll give it to Ahjussi.”

Hyuna hands the necessary coins over to Yerim and both she and Soyoung watch as Yerim puzzles through the controls and positions the claw over the dog plushie lying on top of the lion plushie with the utmost of care.

“More left, I think,” Soyoung suggests.

“More forward,” Hyuna chimes in.

Yerim cranes her neck and squints. “Are you sure? I feel like it should be more towards me.”

“No, I think it’s good where it is,” Soyoung says.

Hyuna gestures impatiently at the controls. “Just push the button already.”

Yerim pushes the button. They all watch as the claw sways downwards, weakly grasps onto an ear of the dog, and fails to move it even an inch. “Well, at least you touched it,” Soyoung tries.

“Eonni, another try.”

The other ear slides out of grasp this time.

“One more time.”

A foot.

“One more time.”

The same foot.

“Please?”

The claw misses the dog entirely this time.

“You know, the lion is underneath the dog plushie,” Soyoung points out helpfully. Yerim groans.

“Well, this is your last try,” Hyuna says, handing over her last two coins.

Yerim takes them sullenly. “I’d have to get both of them at once with this.”

“You never know until you try.” Soyoung pats Yerim’s shoulder. “You can do it.”

They all watch with bated breath as Yerim pushes the last of the coins into the claw machine and once again positions the claw over the dog plushie. “And… go!” A slap of the button and the claw begins to descend.

Down… down…

The claw once again grasps a leg of the plushie and begins to valiantly tug it upwards. The dog is raised maybe halfway out of its slump before the claw gives up and it droops back to sit on the lion’s face again.

Yerim turns to her with teary eyes. “Eonni.”

Hyuna manages to hold out against that expression for a valiant ten seconds. “Don’t… do this when you go to an arcade again,” she tries, channeling her inner ‘Yoojin when he’s talking to the Haeyeon guild leader’ energy. Yerim gives her a confused look. “Don’t do what I’m… Y’know what, never mind.”

She gives up and moves to the back of the machine with a sigh. She spends a moment trying to puzzle through the cords and wires coming from the back of the claw machine, before giving a mental shrug and lifting the whole thing, dangerous creaking and popping be damned, and gives it a gentle shake.

“Oh! Oh! Eonni, you’ve almost got it, do that one more time!” Yerim calls, and cheers when Hyuna does just that. “Okay, I think I can reach it now!”

She sets the claw machine back down as carefully as possible, wincing when the whole floor shudders at the impact and the metal buckles. Just another thing to add to the bill, she supposes.

When she peeks around the side of the machine, Yerim has amassed a small pile of stuffed animals, no doubt also shaken loose, and is in the process of pulling her prize out of the flap. “Eonni,” she crows, presenting it to her proudly. “Look, isn’t it cute?”

“Very cute.” Soyoung nods in agreement.

The beaming smile that Yerim gives them both is definitely worth the hefty bill that Hyuna is no doubt going to have to pay.

Mission success.

#definitelyhuman10 #sina writes #sctir #s classes that i raised #fanfiction #i have been to an arcade two (2) times in my life I am vastly underqualified to write this asksjdks #hyuna has unofficially been regulated to babysitter and occasional partner in mischief when it comes to these two #I’m pretty sure it’s canon that there are game centers made specifically for awakened ppl #hyuna makes the financially wise decision of switching to one of those after they start making the arcade a recurring thing