"formal" intro post now that i've determined the mysme hyperfixation is well and truly back lmfao
im haley, im 26, and my main blog is heeeere
uhhhh idk what to say about myself that you couldn't find just by clicking through to my main blog LMFAO
v stan but im insane about him. climbing him like a tree and biting him like a feral cat (i've been here since 2017 and have entirely lost the plot at this point)
im also a rika enjoyer so if that bugs you im sorry lol. i just think its cool when women are evil ๐ค๐ค๐ค
my original post tag is 100% stream of consciousness rn but maybe one day i'll post something real in there. maybe.
proposing a new genre of fiction called an anti-romance where u r presented w a couple at the start & the story is about their emotional journey towards a catastrophic break up
jihyun good end rewrite because man. i know the party scenes are usually short but i wanted moreeee. i also know that this has been done 2 BILLION times but oh well. two cakes, etc etc.
2nd person POV + generally gender-neutral MC.
T+ rating for some swearing, emotional catharsis, and one very inappropriately-timed sex joke LMFAO
wc: ~4k
---
"I've been waiting for this moment."
The moment you hear that voice behind you in the ballroom, you freeze. The glass of champagne in your grasp trembles as you allow yourself one full second to wonder if it's really him.
You've imagined that voice so frequently in the past two years that it's a fair question.
One deep breath in, one deep breath out. You finally turn around and lock eyes with him. Knuckles white around the glass stem, determined not to let the weight of the past seven-hundred-ish days crush you beneath them. He looks good. Different than the sunken-eyed, wild-haired version of him in your memories. But good, nonetheless.
"V?" you finally breathe out. It's a last ditch effort to check and see if the figure before you is really real. You've seen this face so often in the midst of particularly good (or, occasionally, particularly bad) dreams that you have the uncanny feeling that if you reached out to touch him, your hand would pass right through.
"It's Jihyun now," he corrects you, gently, and as if reading your mind, grasps your free hand in his own. He's warm. Tangible. Undeniably there. Then, he grins sheepishly. "Long time, no see."
You scoff, not out of malice, but sheer disbelief. "No kidding."
The longer you gape at him, the hotter your face feels. After allowing yourself another fraction of a second, you avert your gaze and finally let yourself express the one sentiment you've hardly been able to admit to yourself, let alone the other RFA members.
"I've missed you."
It's barely a whisper and, were it not for the way his gaze seems to visibly melt, you might wonder if he'd even heard you.
"I've missed you too," he matches your tone, eyes glistening, "so much, you can't even imagine."
At this, you snort, "I think I can, actually." You give him a watery grin in an attempt to reassure him that you harbor no bad feelings towards his absence.
A part of you wonders if, perhaps, you ought to.
He laughs, warm and whole in a way that the rare, breathy exhalations you had been lucky enough to experience prior to his departure had never been. You're struck once more by just how different this man -- Jihyun -- is from V.
"True enough," He scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Still, you don't know how often I thought of returning before now." The hand on his nape rises to anxiously card his hair out of his eyes. You remember thinking it had looked soft, before, but being too anxious to try. Your hand twitches now, as the thought resurges with renewed enthusiasm. "I must have booked and cancelled tons of plane tickets," he graces you with another laugh, this one more sheepish. Familiar. "I figure I can make a scrapbook out of all of them, once I finally settle in."
You take a beat too long to process that information, and the minute you open your mouth to respond, you're cut off by a boisterous (and more than slightly buzzed) voice from behind you.
"Oh my god -- is that V?!"
Both you and Jihyun whip towards the source to find Zen striding towards you, gaping.
"Hyun!" Jihyun grins, raising his arm in a facsimile of a wave. "You look well, it's good to see you again."
Zen takes an additional few seconds before he responds. "Damn, it is you! I should--" he looks around the hall before calling out in a voice that's far too loud: "Oi! Trust fund! You might want to come over here!"
Jihyun follows Zen's gaze, equal parts eager and apprehensive, having at least some idea of what his childhood friend must have gone through in the past two years.
You, having the full picture, wince despite yourself, hoping against hope that Jumin has paced himself tonight.
Jaehee winds up having to jostle the man in question, sublimating her own shock as she directs him towards Jihyun. Jumin picks up speed as he strides over, as if in a trance, the subtle sway to his movements the only indicator that he's drained more than his fair share of champagne glasses this evening. Standing a foot away from his best friend for the first time in years, he looks torn between embracing him and eviscerating him.
Jihyun, for his part, looks equally lost for words. Jumin, in spite of his current state, finds his voice first.
"You..." he begins, and Jihyun chuckles, a sort of telepathic communication reigniting between them. A shiver of envy runs down your spine despite yourself.
"I know," he whispers, extending a hand towards Jumin. The latter stares at it for a moment, seeming to any uninformed observer to be very interested in the various bracelets hanging off of his friend's wrist, before he grasps Jihyun's hand and pulls him into a crushing embrace.
Jumin isn't one for tears, and tonight is no exception, but the waver in his voice doesn't escape you as he chokes out "Have a drink with me at my home tonight. Non-negotiable."
Jihyun stills for a moment, locking eyes with you as though asking permission. You almost want to laugh. You may have waited two long years for his return, but Jumin has certainly waited much longer.
You nod, still half-dazed, and Jihyun seems to breathe a sigh of relief before returning Jumin's embrace in full.
Seconds slip by like honey as you exchange glances with Zen and Jaehee, equal parts awkward, exhausted, and relieved. The past few years haven't been easy on any of you.
It isn't until Saeyoung rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks that the scene shatters.
Despite his silence, the rage radiating off of Saeyoung is palpable. You feel the inexplicable urge to step between them before Jihyun steels himself and breaks the silence with a cough.
"Luciel--" He begins, darting his gaze back towards the entrance. You wonder for a moment if he's about to disappear again. The vision before you is ephemeral enough as is, and with how angry you know Saeyoung is, you don't know if you could fault such a show of cowardice.
"Saeyoung." His tone is beyond clipped, and each of you flinch. It's easy to forget that Saeyoung is a trained killer until moments like this.
"Saeyoung," Jihyun corrects himself with a sharp inhale, finally meeting his gaze. "I can only imagine how upset you must be--"
"Oh, you have no idea." He lets out a laugh entirely devoid of mirth and you can see how white his knuckles are from where you stand. If he clenches his fists much tighter, you're sure he'll break skin. Your eyes dart back to Jihyun, whose posture is equally rigid.
"-- if you'll permit me one last surprise," he tries again, choosing each word carefully, as though trying to soothe a wild animal, "I believe I'll be able to start rebuilding some of the bridges I've burned."
Saeyoung huffs and takes another step forward. "Fat chance," he spits out. A flash of hurt crosses Jihyun's gaze before he collects himself again.
"Please. Just hear me out. I'll be back momentarily--" all of you freeze as he moves to step away and he hesitates, grimacing "-- I promise."
The five of you sit, frozen as he exits the hall. Jumin and Saeyoung keep their gaze fixed on the door, waiting to see if Jihyun is truly coming back. Meanwhile, you share nervous glances with Zen and Jaehee, each of you searching for something to say and coming up short.
A few minutes in, Yoosung rounds the corner, sighing in relief at the sight of everyone. He moves to speak before the tension radiating off of each of you hits him. He closes his mouth, sidling to Zen's side and asks what's happening.
"V's back," Saeyoung grits out, before Zen can venture a more gentle explanation, eyes still locked on the hall door. Yoosung yelps in surprise before covering his mouth, gaping at the rest of you in astonishment. Zen shrugs helplessly at him.
Another minute ticks by before the door finally opens, and you catch sight of Jihyun once more. He's smiling gently, leaning down slightly in order to offer gentle reassurance to someone out of sight, blocked from view by the ever-shifting tide of party guests.
They finally break through the throng, and you catch a glimpse of white hair.
The world stops.
Then, an instant later, Saeyoung breaks out in a dead sprint, spanning the length of the entrance hall in seconds and nearly bowling over his brother as he pulls him into a bone crushing hug. You issue a silent prayer of thanks that, among other things, Saeran looks significantly sturdier now than he did two years ago.
Your head spins and your legs move independently, slowly pulling you back into Jihyun's orbit. You vaguely register Jumin trailing behind you, the others in lockstep behind him.
Jihyun's back.
Saeran's alive.
There's a buzzing in the back of your mind that amplifies, slowly growing until it drowns out Zen, Yoosung, and Jaehees' excited chatter. Drowns out Jihyun and Jumins' low conversation. Drowns out the frenetic whispers and sobs of the twins' reunion.
For the first time in over a year, you find yourself feeling like a stranger who's mistakenly stumbled into this little family. It's all too much, and the warm weight of Jihyun's hand on your shoulder, certainly meant to be reassuring, instead brings the buzzing to a crescendo.
You have to get out of here.
You turn back towards Jihyun and Jumin, now their gazes searching you intently, analyzing your reaction in a way that makes your skin prickle uncomfortably as you stumble your way through excusing yourself to the terrace outside.
You don't allow yourself the space to acknowledge the murmurs of concern that follow you as you make your exit. The hall is so stuffy and, god, you just need some air.
---
Once outside the cloying atmosphere of the party hall, the weight of the past ten minutes -- of the past two years -- finally hits you like a freight train. You heave a desperate, dry sob into your hands and it's not so much sad as it is emotional. The feeling is raw and powerful and overwhelming as it crests over you. You gasp for air in between sobs as you finally, finally collapse in on yourself.
You're not sure how long you've been sitting there when Jihyun presses a handkerchief, soft and satiny, into your palm. You meet his gaze through watery, irritated eyes and all you can think is how this is not how you had wanted this night to go.
It's silly, you think. You've just received everything you've wanted over the past few years -- Jihyun is back, healthy and (you hope) finally ready to love again. Saeran is alive, something you hadn't dared let yourself even consider as an option. The RFA is finally whole again. You've wanted this for so long, imagined it over and over again so frequently that having it -- finally having it -- feels strange in a way that you're wholly unprepared for.
And, as you open your mouth to even begin to explain any of that to Jihyun, you choke on your words and what comes out instead is --
"Fuck," half strangled, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "This is so embarrassing!"
Jihyun rubs circles on your back, soothing and understanding as ever. You feel like a child. You want a hug. You want to be left alone. You want him to never leave again.
"You've done so well," he whispers, his other hand gripping your own, "I know how hard it must have been, and I know you must be tired of hearing it by now, but I'm so sorry."
You laugh, only slightly bitter, as you wipe at your eyes with the handkerchief. "You don't need to be sorry," you finally manage to get out, voice scratchy and embarrassingly wet-sounding. "I know you needed to leave. I'm glad you found yourself again. I'm glad you found Saeran." It sound more like you're reminding yourself than reassuring him, and maybe you are.
"I did need to go," he concedes. "Still, I'm sorry that I had to ask you -- ask all of you -- to bear that last burden for my sake. I've already asked so much of you."
"It's not --" you sniff, ungracefully, words still jammed in your throat. "It's not the burden itself --" you canโt bring yourself to deny that it was burdensome, and you catch the slightest flinch from the corner of your eye. "It's being told that I can finally put it down. I think that's what's getting to me now." You sigh, face finally dry and body sagging with exhaustion.
"I'd gotten so used to carrying it, I don't know how to exist without it now." You laugh, humorless. "Am I making any sense?"
Jihyun smiles gently, his hand shifting from its spot between your shoulder blades to pull you against his side. He's warm. Alive. A tremor passes through you once more.
"Perfect sense," he murmurs against your forehead.
As if he's granted you some sort of permission, you finally relax against him fully. It's a wonderful blend of contradiction -- familiar and new, comfortable and strange all at once. You can still feel the barely-there brush of his lips on the crown of your head and a shiver runs through you, despite yourself.
"I'm so glad you're back," you whisper against his chest. "I'm excited to actually get to know you -- without the whole..." you snort, wrinkling your nose and waving your hand in a vague gesture that has him shaking against you with silent laughter.
"I'm so glad to be back," he tilts your chin up to meet your eyes head on. "And I cannot wait to get to know you either."
Still embarrassed and feeling decidedly uncool, you flush and shift away from his gaze. "I feel like I haven't made a great impression so far," you sigh, picking idly at the handkerchief still clutched in your hand.
He laughs softly, sympathetically. "You have nothing to worry about." His hand wraps around yours and gently works your fingers loose from the silk scrap. You grimace a bit. The handkerchief is slightly damp and definitely a bit gross, and the whole thing doesn't do much to reassure you that you're not completely ruining this as he gently sets it aside, idly playing with your fingers as he continues:
"There were times where I was certain that you would reject me outright when we met again -- it would have been understandable."
That makes you snap your gaze back to his and you're unsurprised to find the beginnings of tears there. What takes you off guard is the steady confidence that underlies the admission of self doubt. The man before you is so familiar and so different all at once that for a moment you're overcome with a devastating curiosity. You want to probe further, to explore the person before you until you've categorized every junction where the fractured, familiar pieces of him meet the bright new ones to form the vision you see now.
It's unfathomable that he could have ever thought you would turn him away.
He steadies himself, inhaling deeply and snapping you back to reality as he continues. "I was prepared for that. I spent a long time making sure that I was strong enough to handle potentially having to start over. Reminding myself that I shouldn't expect your patience to last forever."
He squeezes your hand, gently, reverently. "Just being able to be here with you now is more than I could have hoped for."
A beat of silence. You feel your heart fluttering against your ribcage and suddenly you're moving towards him as if pulled on a wire. He doesn't flinch. You draw yourself up slightly to meet his height more easily and your eyes flicker down to his lips once, then twice. It's a request. It's a prayer. It's a promise.
He closes the gap himself.
His mouth is achingly gentle as it moves against yours, but his hands are sure and warm as they cup your face. You wrestle with the urge to fist your hands in his shirt and pull him deeper into you. The only thing preventing all two years of your longing from bubbling out at this point is the faint awareness that one of you is crying. Maybe both.
It's perfect, and imperfect, and over far too soon. He pulls away with a soft noise of regret, face flushed and eyes scanning your face like you're something rare and lovely. Your face burns hot under his stare and you're suddenly very aware of the fact that you probably still looked wrecked from your earlier breakdown. You untangle your hands from his shirt and brush your hair out of your face. He replaces them with his own, thumb brushing your temple as he smooths a stray lock behind your ear before his hand falls back to his side.
"I've had so many dreams of doing that. Nearly every night, you know," he whispers as you settle down next to him. Your face burns even brighter and you habitually scrub the last few tears from your cheek.
"Were they usually that wet?" you laugh, slightly embarrassed to have been crying through a moment you've dreamed about just as much as him.
He chokes, and you turn to him confused, only to find him looking slightly caught out as a new flush creeps up his neck. Your mind spins for a moment before the pieces finally snap into place and you catch your accidental entendre.
You cough, whipping away from his gaze. A laugh escapes you, higher than usual and slightly hysterical as you try to course-correct.
"I didn't mean--" you begin, just as he chokes out --
"-- Ah, sometimes?"
You snap your head towards him and watch as his eyes go wide and he claps a hand over his mouth, mortified.
You can't help the peal of laughter that escapes you after that, doubling over for a moment before coming back up to gasp for air. You pry his hand away from his mouth and find him shaking with a helpless, embarrassed giggle of his own. For a moment, you feel lighter than you have in years.
You steadily relax against him again as your laughter subsides into steady, even breaths. You chance a glance at his face, still slightly pink, and revel in the easy grin you find there. He's beautiful. He's wants you, you think, still a bit giddy with the realization.
The two of you sit like that for a few moments more, until the guilt from the neglect of your duties as party coordinator begins to creep in. Jihyun heads in first, at your request, allowing you a few minutes to gather yourself before you join him.
One breath in. One breath out.
---
When you finally reenter the hall, it's Saeran who runs into you first, pacing anxiously outside the balcony doors. When you lock eyes with him, he blanches, and you register that he's clearly spent the past few minutes drumming up the courage to talk to you.
Like you, he seems to have come up with nothing.
Instead, you find yourself once again moving independently of your brain, lurching forward to pull him into an unsteady embrace. You feel him seize against you, freezing for just a moment before he hesitantly wraps his arms around your waist.
"I'm so glad you're here," you say, at the same moment he whispers an apology in your ears. You laugh, despite yourself.
He tries again, eyes searching your own with a desperation that, like Jihyun's embrace, feels strange and familiar all at once. The man who called himself "Ray" flashes in your mind for a moment.
"I put you through something awful," he admits, seeming to be very interested in the patterns on the carpet.
His statement is objectively true. You'd be lying if you said you didn't still dream of your too-pink room at Magenta. The drafty hall of the mountain hideout. The chemical odor of Jihyun's hospital room. An involuntary shiver wracks your body.
But, looking past Saeran at the rest of the RFA -- at the slope of Saeyoung's posture, more relaxed than you've ever seen him. At Jumin's serene smile as he offers Jihyun a glass from a nearby table. At Jihyun's own gaze, locked onto yours across the hall...
You can't bring yourself to feel too bad about any of it, all things considered.
Instead, you pull Saeran in tighter. You revel at the feeling of his heartbeat, hummingbird-fast, against your chest. "Forget about that," you tell him, shifting your grip to his shoulders and forcing him to meet your eyes. "Are you happy?"
Though he trembles in your grip, his voice doesn't waver as he replies: "More than I ever thought I could be."
You pull him into one final crushing hug at that, wet and messy -- god, you're crying again-- before you take him by the hand and ask if he's ready to join the others.
With his nod of assent, the rest of the night becomes a blur.
---
When the hall is finally emptied, you find yourself crowded around a too-small table with the rest of the RFA. You're nearly pressed to Jihyun's side as you recount the highs of the past few years.
Jaehee blushes as you brag about her new cafe on her behalf, only letting up once Jihyun and Saeran promise to stop by as soon as they're settled in.
Zen graces you all with the performance of an excerpt from his latest show. Jumin rolls his eyes, but Jihyun catches the soft smile that plays on his features despite himself. He points this out to you and the two of you snicker like children until Jumin demands to know what's so funny.
Yoosung excitedly shows off his graduation photos, babbling at Saeran in particular, excited to make their newest member feel as welcome as possible. Saeyoung, uncharacteristically quiet, sits as close to his brother as he can, grinning like a madman and interjecting only to poke fun at Yoosung's dark roots coming through in some of the photos he shows.
The feeling of separation from earlier fades. Though you can still feel your earlier melancholy clinging to the periphery of it all, you can't help but lose yourself in the warmth of the moment. For the first time in two years, you're unbearably excited for the future.
---
It's over all too soon. The emotional and physical exhaustion finally wins out over the adrenaline around 11 o'clock, and Yoosung is the first to crack, stifling a yawn as he endeavors to keep his gaze focused on Saeran's story about seeing the northern lights for the first time.
Jaehee, who has been slowly propping more of her weight against you on your other side, is quick to suggest they call it, smiling regretfully as she reminds you that the two of you have a long day of drink testing ahead of you in the morning.
Zen sighs in agreement, murmurring something about beauty sleep under his breath. He and Yoosung are the first to leave, the former bolstering Yoosung's exhausted gait as they stumble out of the party hall and into their cab home.
Saeyoung titters with nerves as he asks Saeran where he's been planning on staying, now that he's back. His relief palpable as his twin reassures him that he plans on staying by his side for as long as possible. Following another bone-crushing embrace, the two of them quickly shuffle out of the hall, intent on making up for two decades of lost time as soon as they can.
Driver Kim comes for Jihyun and Jumin shortly after. Jumin smiles guiltily at you before he slips into the the car, torn between feeling grateful to you for giving him his best friend for the remainder of the night and acknowledging the part of you that craves Jihyun's company just as badly. Jihyun, for his part, gives you a warm smile and a sly wink as he slips in next to Jumin, and you guffaw in giddy disbelief as the door closes behind him.
You catch a ride home with Jaehee, sagging in relief as soon as you feel the road moving beneath you. Her gaze flickers between you and the road for several minutes, her fingers tapping at the wheel, before she finally gets the courage to ask how you're doing.
Your response is a shaky exhale and a tired smile, before you finally muster up the strength to reply.
"I think the worst is finally over."
She hums in reply as you turn onto the street leading to your apartment. When she hugs you goodbye, she squeezes your shoulders tightly as she pulls away and whispers, "I think so too."
i know it's important to choose your words wisely lest you water them down and dilute their meaning but i do need you to realise when i call myself a broken marriage pervert i mean that i get a sexual thrill out of bearing witness to the rise and fall of ruinous unions
If Jihyun and Rika were a same sex couple they would have been the most popular ship in the Mystic Messenger fandom especially given how people especially in animanga and animanga adjacent spaces (such as otome games) find toxic doomed same sex relationships very appealing (and I am no less guilty of it) especially given the fact that both of them are quite toxic when it comes to how they view each other and treat each other.