darling, as long as i’m with you i’ll walk through the dark. call me crazy, so what? i breathe because of you. i follow where you are. we transcend any kind of goodbye.
rolls in here and falls. hello! it’s luyi (mun of hwaryun) again, and this time i have a rather different and difficult guy as a humble offering. (..◜ᴗ◝..)
for starters: a “good-for-nothing”, “carefree”, and “average” fourth year compsci major — kim seol, with the label of the gilded liar. he’s so normal (not really). but here is his profile, and his background!
so what’s up with this guy? he’s pretty charming and friendly, great at keeping up with conversations. pretty nice first impressions and all that, then you find out he’s a lazy scumbag who does the bare minimum in life. irritatingly, seol’s charisma and sweet talk makes up for that. that being said, he’s a liar, so maybe everything’s a lie.
want to find out more? hit that like and i’ll be in your dms (or discord upon request!), under the cut will be a short introduction and some very general plot ideas to get the ball rolling!
— short introduction.
born ‘ahn eunbyul’, legally changed his name later in life.
grew up with violent and abusive parents; in one of their fights, they killed each other. seol was then thrown from relatives to relatives, they were afraid that the boy would end up as a bad influence to their kids so he never stayed in one place for long.
at his depths, seol is extremely detached as a person. he doesn’t feels anything. or to be more exact, he doesn’t wants to. to seol, he’s just acting out someone else’s life and using their name for himself. he’s just here, floating listlessly and playing a role that doesn’t belongs to him.
— plot ideas.
the usual classmates and fellow club members! (photography/modern dance) your muse can get along with him, or not. he’s pretty charismatic, and yet it’s also hard to notice whenever he slips out of gatherings.
ophiuchus fellas please… what the hell is this guy even doing here? how did he get here? no one knows. he’s sort of a waste of space, and yet he’s here, for some reason, with a sleazy smile. (be a little careful, he takes note of everything)
alcoholic /hj he’s found in a lot of drinking parties, bars, clubs etc. he drinks soju in broad daylight (spoiler: he doesn’t gets drunk easily but pretends he does sometimes). so perhaps this could be a conversation starter for your muse!
old classmates or schoolmates before the university life. your muse vaguely remembers him by a different name, or a different personality entirely. seol doesn’t confirms it.
something negative… rivals? enemies? it’s easy for seol to get these kind of connections considering how scummy he can be. he’s not the one lighting the fire, but he could be the one adding fuel to the fire bit by bit.
exes! you know how it goes, and it never ends well. he’s also most likely to be the one dumping first, he would dump your muse over his potted plant. (m/f OK) he can be really romantic, but he also believes romantic attachments are redundant.
your muse is really curious about why he’s a little sensitive to scents, but it turns out it’s not that he’s sensitive to the scents itself. seol has olfactory-visual synesthesia and usually doesn’t finds a need to bring it up.
he talks to his potted plant like its his girlfriend, does it weirds your muse out?
your muse picks out his lies. yay. now roast this guy! /lh
these are just plot ideas, im only scratching the surface! i believe a lot of stuff can happen with seol — his character has many layers to it despite being self-acclaimed “average and normal”, so he’s someone who works better with brainstorming plots instead. let’s plot!
seol had always been someone able to blurt such embarrassing words straight out of his mouth. touma knows why, has learned how to ignore every bit of it, allow them to bounce off of his ears like a protective shield. none of the intimate phrases seol says is uttered in a serious manner, simply practiced sentences seol could say to anyone. touma's usual response would be to brush him off, or to shove seol into the practice room and tell him to start rehearsing. he never once entertained the notion — until now, that is. there's no dignified reason why touma decided to throw caution into the wind. if seol doesn't take it seriously, why should touma?
"lukewarm kissing...? there's a hierarchy to kissing now?" touma snorts, glossing over his lack of experience, even though seol oh-so-graciously points it out regardless. "have i ever confirmed anything with you? you're just making assumptions that i'm a prude! you don't know that for sure," touma responds with a roll of his eyes — big mistake, considering how dizzy he's already feeling from the alcohol he's taking into his body. whatever notions seol has decided to believe doesn't matter to touma in the first place, because seol is just using these facts to tease him.
often times, seol's prying can be embarrassing — but the buzz in his head diminishes any sort of concrete thought. it's pleasant, actually. "you're such a liar," touma rebutts, tapping the centre of seol's chest with a laugh. "i never had any space in here, so why would it be empty now?" touma's presence in seol's life had been like a torn on his side, dragging him to places he probably doesn't care to go to. back then touma would say it's for the greater good, seol's skills would be a waste if no one were to see and appreciate them — nowadays, it's touma who became difficult to find, like fading into a ghost story that teachers can tell as a cautionary tale.
"if it truly had been a secret admirer, then he must be disappointed right about now." he takes a breath, before letting go. "there's nothing left to admire." touma admits, catching a glance in seol's direction from the corner of his eyes, wondering how the other boy would react. "i always wondered what type of person would just come in and stare, say nothing, leave no trace, except for a gift basket with no sender card." touma chuckles, reliving the memory, the nurse's excitement from encountering such a handsome fellow. who could it be? touma has no solid evidence to prove one way or another, just a gut feeling that he's keeping close to himself. "i wonder if he'd still stalk me afterwards. a part of me wants him to."
only once seol pries the bottle away from him does touma fully face his friend, eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. it's a little disorienting, but it's made worse when a cold and hard sensation is placed against his lips — it's the bottle, with seol's face by the other side. seol's next set of words echoes throughout the dark night in messy fragments, all thanks to the alcohol numbing his barely functioning brain. you're really pretty, fall in love, want to kiss you. lies — touma hears himself say, unsure whether the words properly came out of him or not.
and then, seol's lips reaches the opposite end — a gentle, soft touch that touma can't feel, the bottle acting as a transparent barrier between the two of them. foolish, stupid touma — he chastises himself, his flushed cheeks turning even redder once the reality of the situation had caught up to him. "ah, what?" it slips out of him, falling back to his native language out of surprise. processing, confirming. it takes a while, but even in that pause, touma makes no move to pull away.
maybe he really is an idiot.
i missed you dearly, touma. he blinks, lets out another breath. "that's not fair," touma finally replies, laughing, his throat tight. "i don't want to believe in a lie, seol. so don't make me."
eventually, touma takes the bottle instead of pulling away, setting it back down. "we shouldn't waste a good bottle. should i bring this with me as a keepsake?" he questions, lighthearted, setting the mood. "the first time kim seol kissed me." his eyes flash towards seol, quick, unfocused. "it was lackluster, wasn't it?"
he doesn't need an answer.
"you must've been disappointed. just like my secret admirer."
“haha~ so, someone else has touched you before?” seol hums in respond. strangely, the thought irked him. he could have made fun of him even more. asakura touma not a prude? who has touched him anyways? “you don’t react like someone who’s been touched,” said softly. if touma catches it, it’s up to him however to interpret it.
does the words that oozes out of seol’s mouth drips like honey or poison? no one knows. seol does not care, nor does he care about the consequences of his words. they’re merely meaningless sweet nothings he would say to anyone. there is no love or fondness laced in those words; an existence like him cannot love anyone.
seol only exists in the shadows, otherwise he’ll get burned by the light. he would only watch that blazing fire from afar, just like when he was just passing by a crowd, wondering why they were making such a ruckus—only to see a performance danced with fervent passion. so full of life, like he was having the time of his life, like it was his everything. seol had never forgotten that the glimmer in those eyes, and for a brief moment…
he was enchanted.
but even then…
even the sun can die.
those days of being dragged to places, of touma’s burn on his supposedly empty soul—since when? since when had asakura touma had a place in his heart? no matter how much he tried to tear him out, the more he tried to destroy his memory of him… he’s still there, like a curse. it’s as if seol is possessed, and this unnamed emotion is suffocating him, strangling his neck to breathlessness.
“if i’m a liar, what do you believe then? maybe i’ll become that figure who keeps visiting you and leaving you gifts. would you be happy if it turned out to be me this entire time?” don’t answer me, say no. reject me. push me away. be disgusted with me. “hm~ disappointed? i’ll say that secret admirer of yours… oh, if it was me, i think i would had been really sad that you disappeared without a trace. i would had been more worried than disappointed. i would had wished you told me about it.” i don’t care, i only care that you left your stupid responsibilities to me.
seol almost wants to laugh at how dumb touma looks right now, cheeks flushed from the bottle kiss. he’s getting there, isn’t he? one step closer to his heart? if he pushed even more… then would touma still accept him? would he break their friendship? to what extent, would touma let him? “the bottle was in the way, wasn’t it?” a murmur. the distance between their faces wasn’t that far, who told this dumbass to not pull away? “i’m sort of offended you think that was a kiss.”
something overcame him, with how distracted touma is. it makes it easy for seol to lean in, tilt his head and push his lips against the other boy’s. nothing else. plain and simple, but it’s a proper kiss, isn’t it? a prude like touma would explode, perhaps.
“so? was it lackluster?” he throws the question back at him, smiling.
there’s some days when seol feels like taking out his a5 sketchbook to draw something with charcoal. somehow he’s developed an interest in it enough to sketch every once in a while. after all, charcoal as a medium is something that’s easier to him. there’s no need for accuracy or precision, instead focusing on the depths of the shadows to create an picture.
his drawings are usually still lifes; whatever his eyes sees. be it the flowers on the field, the clouds in the sky, or even benches in the park. sometimes, he’ll add the patterns that he sees if he has the colour pencils with him.
yet, it always seems as if… something is missing. seol is never satisfied with what he’s drawn, no matter how much he tries to copy what he can see. even the pile of books on the table that he attempts to bring to life in his page seems hollow, somehow.
but of course, an empty soul isn’t capable of creating such humanly things. seol can never be a artist.
tossing away his charcoal stick back into his little case, he gives a stretch to loosen his muscles up from staying in the same position for too long, and then cleaning the charcoal residue on his hands with a sanitising wipe. time to go home… or not.
“oh? fancy seeing you here, hyung~” seol flashes his usual cheeky smile at the younger boy who happened to be around. he wonders when dj would realise that he’s actually older than him. dj is hilarious and stupid, and he’s definitely going to bring up his sketchbook. it’s not everyday people gets to see a different side of seol—if anything, it’ll be less annoying if they didn’t. “what’s up? missing me already~? ♡” the usual heartless tease.
october monthly prompt ／ 002.
› lament in pure white.
cws: mentions of child abuse and death threats.
it always seems as if there is nothing seol is afraid of, with how lightly he carries himself throughout his life like a ghost wandering through the mortal realm. in the face of even death, seol would still continue to smile as if there’s nothing extraordinary before him.
his heart had long been frozen to such things since that fateful winter day.
bloody red against pure white; a tragic sight that had been engraved in his memories for eternity. even if he changed his name, even if more than ten years had passed since then—it replays in his mind again and again, like a haunting curse. he would never forget trying to pray to the god he’s heard in passing as a kid, clasping his hands that perhaps, it was all a terrifying nightmare.
the stench of rotting bodies accompanied by the crimson veins that no one else can see, said otherwise.
even as an adult, seol still sees those bloody patterns whenever his nose catches a whiff of any meat that is raw, causing his stomach to curdle. it’s getting worse these days even, there’s some days when he’s become disgusted by consuming cooked meats, throwing up afterwards alone in the bathroom, where no one can see.
no one, is supposed to see this side of kim seol.
he doesn’t wants anyone to see it, so he pretends that none of it exists. he doesn’t wants to have anyone’s pity.
a son of murderers should not be graced with such a pure emotion like that. his blood is ugly and sinful—was what his relatives told him.
eunbyul’s first stay with his relatives was a little more special than the others. he remembers their eyes; full of disgust and contempt, even though they were smiling to him. it was never difficult for the boy to discern the emotions of adults, he always had to navigate through even the smallest habits when his parents were still alive. he knew, he was a burden to them.
and he knew, they were a little afraid of him.
all the boy had with him was his little potted plant, and his relatives made an attempt to use it to their advantage seeing his close affection towards a silly plant.
“don’t get too close to seojoon-ya, got it? otherwise i’ll throw your plant away,” they’ll point fingers at him. “and remember to eat all of your food, don’t be ungrateful and waste anything,” even though there wasn’t much on his plate to begin with.
of course, to not have his last memory destroyed or to not get hit, eunbyul complied silently.
then one day, they tried to push his potted plant off the table.
he knew this would happen, but he didn’t blinked. instead, he calmly took a pair of scissors out of his pocket and held it against the neck of his baby cousin, vulnerable and unaware of what was going on.
“if you ever break her, i’ll just kill him. you wanted me to be like appa and eomma, right?”
perhaps in that moment, ahn eunbyul looked like a monster to them with how serene he looked as he threatened his relatives. his hands weren’t trembling, looking as if they could truly cut through flesh at any moment.
but he didn’t care.
he didn’t cared if he looked like a monster, if what he did was a sin.
if he didn’t did this, he wouldn’t be able to protect his last memory of that house.
if he was weak and stupid, he would die.
so, why does kim seol has to think about living an honest life, or living life to the fullest? things like human beliefs or reasons to live? it’s all meaningless. in the end, everyone will die anyways.
everyone will rot away like the fallen leaves in autumn, and kim seol will melt into nothingness like the falling snow in winter as if he’s never existed. there is no heaven or hell, god or devil for him. at the endpoint of lives, there is only a void.
he’s never forgotten how his relatives called him a monster that day, or cursed him that he would surely, end up like his violent parents one day. the boy was immediately passed on his other relatives shortly, they were told to be wary of eunbyul’s supposed “violence”. none of them seemed to question why he was like that. they all knew why.
he became numb to sentiments like love, hatred, and passion—all that’s left in that empty husk of a soul is a trace of lingering sorrows that belonged to a boy once called ahn eunbyul.
“being dead or alive… what difference is there to it?”
when seol sleeps with only a pillow and a blanket on his bed, he curls his body, hugging himself to nightmare, or a dreamless night if he’s lucky. he closes his eyes and shuts away everything that happened to him that day.
even if love is trying to bloom in his heart, he swallows it like an abyss.
beautiful flowers shouldn’t cannot bloom in the abyss.
phone screen lights up with a glaring reminder: ophichius meeting in five minutes. he briefly considers slamming his head against the table he's sitting at, but ultimately decides against it. no need to draw any attention to himself before he walks on down to meet with this 'secret society.' — eugh. that made him cringe.
there is no pep in his step as he trudges on over to the elevator, things haphazardly shoved in his backpack, headphones slung around his neck. he's literally walking as slow as humanly possible— anything to put this off for just a little while longer. the doors slide closed in front of him, and he moves to pull his headphones back up, ready to block out everything until the very last second.
but then the doors are opening again, just one floor down, and he's glancing up to sneak at a glance at who's joining him in his descent to hell the basement. seol. a pleasant surprise. a small smile blooms on his face, reaching out to dap him up. "running late today, hmm?" he lilts, as if he's not in the exact same boat. yohan's lateness is definitely on purpose though— he can't say the same for seol with confidence. he gets along with seol well enough, but he can't help but feel like he doesn't really know him.
"i so do not want to go to this stupid ass meeting right now." it's sighed out— borderline exasperated— as he leans up against the wall of the elevator. at least he's honest? "i'd actually rather do literally anything else. and i'm hungry. you think joon would be pissed if i gave a delivery driver instructions on how to get to our secret meeting room?"
he pauses for a beat, watching the numbers tick down as the elevator moved. "or..." yohan looks at seol, eyebrows piqued in interest. "we could be really late." shoulders lift in a noncommittal shrug, "or not show up at all... i dunno, i think grabbing a drink sounds infinitely better than sitting through this..." he's prodding— waiting to see if seol's willing to completely skip out on a meeting. "just a thought."
whether or not seol is late to a ophiuchus meeting, he doesn’t cares. without notice, he would shamelessly waltz in the meeting room even if he were thirty minutes late with an obvious, sheepish smile on his face as if he’s never done this before and throw a lame excuse.
he has one of those off white uniqlo moon bags slung over his shoulder, filled with his essentials while carrying an ipad and a herbal inhaler with his hand. when the elevator doors opens before him and he sees kang yohan with a smile on his face, he almost sighs, but his lips curls up instead into a small smile too, taking his steps in. “they could just wait for us, we’re all buddies aren’t we?” it’s hard to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not, from the way he speaks so gently and politely.
kang yohan, another one who doesn’t contributes much to ophiuchus in general. temperamental with a sharp tongue, but someone who cares more than he lets on. seol’s just making assumptions, he’s never quite seen past the surface before—but he knows, artistic people who loves music and arts like him carries a genuine soul with them.
seol thinks for a moment, tilting his head slightly to the side with a mischievous grin on his face. “is it destiny? i’m hungry too. should we grab a bite?” he’s going to be missing the meeting, but he could just look pathetic in front of sungha and get his notes. that guy takes notes on everything, what a freak.
when the elevator arrives at their oh-so-secret floor, the boy instead taps on the main lobby floor button, then closing it. “we were hungry, and then the food took too long to come… what to do? it isn’t our faults then?” it’s his turn to lean against the wall, look into yohan’s eyes, as if peering into him. ”we never hung out together, didn’t we? i always wanted to ask you out and get closer, yo~han.”
"oh no...," she whines in disappointment out into the void. for a split second before leaving her dorm that morning, harumi debated on whether or not to take an umbrella with her. she usually carried one, for the just in cases, but something inside her told her not to. the weather had been so pleasant the last few days. who would have thought rain would come out at a time like this?
harumi braves the few drops of rain that blow in her direction as she steps out through the sliding doors of the hall, hands rising to form a makeshift cover for the top of her head. should she go further? risk getting soaked and possibly sick? waiting it out was also an option, but who knows how long the sudden rain would last. she could message a friend! ...if her phone wasn't on the verge of dying.
she's seen taking a step forward, then back, then forward again, and once more back. almost a dance, minus the background music. with a final breath, she's about to give up and just make a run for it, when a soothing voice halts her motion. her whole body turns to face him, her hands still held up above her head, as she looks up into the other's eyes. there's a sincerity behind his gaze, the kindness of this stranger causing a wide, thankful smile to appear. within a matter of seconds, harumi had been saved from enduring a sprint in the rain.
"oh! are you sure? i don't want to cause a burden or anything." she's seen him before, or at least she believes she has. she tries to remember from where or when, but regardless, something tells her that he's one of the good ones. after all, it's not every day a random stranger offers to share their umbrella with you.
seol doesn’t particularly dislike the rain or anything, but it’s one of the only few things he enjoys smelling. the patterns that comes with it are more subtle and clear, like deformed glass pipes. it’s something he could easily tune out of his head.
it’s comedic how the girl was battling herself mentally whether or not she should run in the rain, judging by the worried expressions on her face and how she stepped back and forth over and over again. he almost laughs.
instead, seol nods as he opens the umbrella and hovers it over their heads. it’s your typical transparent umbrella you can get at the convenience store. “it’s better than getting sick in the heavy rain, right? it’s big enough for the two of us.. as long as the winds are nice to us,” he glances at the downpour before them. so far, it’s not windy yet? he wouldn’t like to get soaked in the rain either.
“where are you heading? you could lead me the way,” he tells the girl as he waits for her to get ready before stepping out with her, raising the umbrella a little higher. “i feel like i’ve seen you around, which department are you from? should i take a guess?”
why are you here?
present - day 2 satruday late night
event starter for kim seol ( @snowsorrow )
it is already too too late into the night. agatha doesn't even know what time it is, if she is being honest. she left her phone in her dorm earlier when she tucked in yerim for bed and she hadn't thought about it during her whole interaction with jinyoung.
she's grabbed another can of beer at this point and is trying to finish it as she looks onto the black expanse of the water before her. she managed to find her way to the lake and sit by the docks. it was only yesterday that she's neck deep into the same lake she now surveys but after such a long day today, she just wants to sleep it off. but there are too many things going on in her mind. from her morning with joon, her time at the lake with eunwoo (she smiles to herself as this memory passes), her talk with yerim, jinyoung being drunk.
it was all too much that her brain is actually hurting. so she takes another big gulp of her beer. she never liked the taste of beer, generally preferring it with paired with soju, but she doesn't want to get more drunk now that she's sobered up a little.
then she hears it, a rustle and she turns her head slowly. a part of her thinks to be ready if it is some kind of wildlife, but the inebriated part of her remained seated, craning her neck to determine if the shadow before her would bring her harm. it wasn't until the moonlight shifted and that she sees who the figure was.
agatha turns back around after assesing the situation. her usual facade already down, from the alcohol and because this person knows her through their ophiuchus meetings.
"stalking me, seol? don't tell me joon put you up to it."
the days are the same to seol, just with a scenery change and a tighter schedule. he never wanted to come along, it’s a pain in the ass and this was supposed to be optional. alas, he was dragged here by his friends and couldn’t say no. he’s barely participated in any of the activities, doing just the bare minimum. he was called out for it, and all he did was to awkwardly laugh it off. he particularly hated the part where they had to cook dinner together, the variety of patterns gave him a headache.
he’s usually wide awake at these hours, but due to the tight schedule he’s forced to follow he ends up yawning and rubbing his eyes. for once, seol has some sort of a proper sleep schedule—that’ll change when he gets back after this MT though.
still, he’s too used to being awake at ungodly hours. seol grabs a bottle of his usual soju as he heads out, already popping it open and taking sips as he walks around aimlessly. unexpectedly, he spots a familiar girl.
ah. annoying. it’s that girl from ophiuchus and the student body. he almost rolls his eyes when agatha turns around, instead giving her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. they’ve never had a reason to talk to each other like this outside of ophiuchus meetings, but maybe it’ll be slightly interesting to get to the snake more.
“yeah? i’m stalking you alright,” seol casually plops down beside her. “he wanted to see if you’re snooping around secretly or something,” lie after lie. he wonders how agatha would react to that, especially now since she’s a little drunk. “drinking all by yourself? how lonely~ i’m lonely too, aggie~” he coos, but if the girl notices it—his tone is flat.
memories that feels like a movie scene means that those memories are somewhat unreal like a dream, right? to seol, perhaps for the most part of his life is like a movie scene. he only sees himself as an audience to his own movie, watching and observing silently like a ghost.
perhaps, the closest one seol could say is when he watches someone—bright, burning with passion as he chases his dreams with fiery devotion. shining so brilliantly that it could burn him, so dazzling that seol almost felt something ( he probably did. he rejected it. ), and thought that maybe... he could be like that too.
alas, light will dim down. that grand fire eventually faded into a small candlelight, wanting to be burnt out.
there's not a specific page that feels blank. if anything, the entire book is.
the words, scribbles or pictures in it—everything is created by the hands of someone who cannot give meaning or life to it. they are only there to make it seem as if it's a book that belongs to the individual known as "kim seol". nothing is genuine or authentic in there, there is nothing beautiful or meaningful if someone flips through it.
a blank person is incapable of filling the canvas with colour and beauty, only imitating the beauty of life.
if it's absolutely necessary to pick one then perhaps, the page that feels the most blank is a picture of seol and his friends. seol has never felt anything with them, or he doesn't wants to.
We know it sounds repetitive at this point, but when we first opened we never imagined the community would grow into what it is today. Thank you for your continued support, creativity, and dedication to making this space thrive. We’re so grateful to everyone who has been with us since the very beginning, and to all the new faces who have joined along the way.
For the three month anniversary, we’re introducing the Scrapbook Meme. Think of it as a keepsake for your muse: fragments, doodles, and little memories gathered from their time at Yeonhwa so far. By reblogging this post, you’re opening the door for others to send you emojis from the prompt list, and you can answer however you’d like: through writing, headcanons, edits, moodboards, whichever way you’d like. It’s open-ended and meant to be as creative as you want!
This meme will run from September 20th to October 4th, which will give you about 3 weeks to reblog. If you choose to participate, please ensure that you send a question to everyone who has reblogged the post as well, whether this be on your character’s account or on anon. Once again, thank you so much for the amazing three months and we hope you have fun with this meme!
📸 — A candid photo or photos.
🧸 — A doodle or margin note they’d make.
🍜 — A favorite food memory worth recording.
💌 — A letter to your “day one” self.
🖇️ — A receipt, object, or little thing you’d keep as a memento.
🌙 — A late-night moment you’d scribble down.
📝 — A secret written and then crossed out.
📷 — A snapshot of your favorite campus spot.
🎂 — A wish written for the next three months.
☕ — A drink order that defines you right now.
💡 — A random idea or half-thought scribbled down.
✨ — A memory that feels like a movie scene.
🐇 — A superstition, ritual, or lucky charm.
💤 — A dream or daydream you’d jot down.
🔮 — A prediction for what’s next.
🕊️ — A page that feels blank. Describe why.
✈️ — Something that made you feel far from home.
🏠 — Something that made you feel at home.
🥂 — A celebration.
📂 — Something you’d want to hide between the pages.
🧷 — A messy scrap, something torn or crumpled.
🍭 — A small indulgence or guilty pleasure.
📍 — A map, doodle, or set of directions to somewhere important.
📮 — A letter you’d never send.
🎁 — A gift from someone.
💭 — A freeform slot. Sender can come up with their own prompt!
seol’s phone is nothing extraordinary. it’s an iphone 16, plain silvery white with a transparent phone case over it. it’s so boring, and tells nothing about his interests and life. though, he always keeps his phone pristine clean and sanitises it everyday whenever he can. his lock screen and home screen is the same — a picture of the sky with clouds.
what is your muse's favourite and least favorite social media app? why?
he doesn’t exactly has a favourite app but he does enjoy playing rhythm games a lot. seol gets to turn off his brain for a bit, and tap away on his phone. he’s really good at it. osu, cytus, voez… he plays whatever. his least favourite, would be tiktok. he simply doesn’t understands the appeal of videos in vertical form.
what time of day are they most active online?
the night, dead hours. seol’s sleep schedule is pretty much messed up so he’s usually seen online at very odd hours. everytime he’s in a group project, he makes sure to emphasise on not being able to attend meetings during the day but he’ll catch up at night.
what does their camera roll look like?
unexpectedly neat and tidy, sorted accordingly into albums. there’s more pictures of real life (landscapes, food, etc.) than pictures of people. seol is rather good at photography, so his pictures’ compositions and angles usually comes up well.
how does your muse decide what/what not to post on social media?
nothing in particular; there’s no theme either. seol posts whatever he likes depending on how he feels that day, but usually his posts has a bit of an achromatic filter to them. a little gloomy and solemn, yet somehow manages to capture the essence of it. again, it’ll mostly be landscapes pictures. even if he posts a selfie, it’s usually blurred, as if he doesn’t wants to leave his digital footprints behind.
how often does your muse delete or archive old posts? What's the thought process behind those decisions?
once in a while, if seol feels like he doesn’t likes seeing his older posts — he deletes them. there’s nothing in his archive; there’s no point in keeping something he wants to conceal, so he’ll delete them without a second thought.
does your muse use their real name and image online? if not, how different is their online persona from their real-life persona?
seol’s bio is empty, though his image is a picture of his plant. his username however is just @__seol___. plain. boring. nothing unique.
how do they choose to express themselves online in spaces that are curated and where they know they will be perceived?
he’s more lowkey in online spaces, he’s not often seen in forums or anything so he doesn’t bothers to keep track of how he expresses himself online. though he does chat quite often in dms and gcs, and he’s more aware of his words online more than he lets on.
touma never knows what seol is thinking. filth comes out of seol's mouth easier than air does, breaths substituted by playful remarks that mean nothing to the beholder. it has been a while since allowing himself into seol's space, purposefully avoiding the rehearsal rooms and the responsibilities that comes with them. he doesn't actually know how seol is faring, but he never imagined seol would stray too far from how he usually presents himself. always an enigma, hiding underneath piles of trash.
"if you wanted a kiss that bad, you should've volunteered for that weird kissing booth. or would that be too easy for you?" his words come with no malice, but he does pucker his lips as if he's going along with seol's weightless whims. "unfortunately for you, such tactics won't work on me! can't you flirt better? or is that too much effort on your part too?" asakura touma of some-months-ago would have shoved seol away, tell him to get serious, but his long-gone mannerisms have become relics of the past. there isn't anything to work hard towards anymore.
his gaze linger at the soju bottle calmly perched between the two of them, the only wall that stands in-between. "you don't even have a cup? are you going to force me into an indirect kiss?" touma questions, eyebrows dramatically furrowed as he tilts his head. regardless though, he picks up the bottle and brings it to his lips, taking a few sips before seol could even answer him—his sense of self-control effectively halted by the white noise in his head; muted, but persistent nonetheless.
"this feels like the first time you've stared at me so intensely. it feels like you're going to burn holes into my skin." he comments, swirling the bottle in his head, listening for the audible swish of its contents like he's measuring hoow much more toxin he can take into his body. "i never thought you'd realize i've been gone! you're surprising me more and more today. to what do i owe this utmost pleasure?"
bullshit upon bullshit—that's basically one way to describe how this conversation is unraveling. "you can look at my face all you want, seol. you might even fool me into thinking i look pretty tonight if you keep it up," touma laughs, hushed and lulled. "just kidding!" he adds on, setting the bottle back down after another sip, the color of his cheeks slowly turning a darkened crimson.
"you're curious about my wellbeing?" he smiles, delivering no precise answer to seol's pressing question. "look at me, i'm alive! isn't that what matters the most?" his reply provides no satisfaction, but he does lean his head to seol's shoulder, humming as if he is procrastinating coughing up an answer. "i've had a visitor, you know." touma reveals, with no other context explained. "he would leave me with a gift. no sender card. no nothing. i wonder who it is, and i wonder why i'm telling you. maybe i'm starting to get drunk."
another laugh escapes him, a little more wretched than the last. "the nurse kept saying he's handsome though. it was kind of funny. wonder how he looks like!" he sneaks a glance at the other boy, still smiling.
there’s nothing particularly spectacular about dancing. seol had always been like this; trying out new things on a whim, and then going onto the next the moment he gets bored. he’s never stayed in the same club for more than a semester, and yet here he was, dumped with responsibilities he never wanted. he could simply leave, there’s nothing to gain out of this stupid position. but isn’t it pitiful, if the dance club crumbles just like that? and wouldn’t it be more fun to see how long the guilt-ridden asakura touma can keep this up?
a laugh comes shortly afterwards when he listens to the boy’s response. it’s what he’s expected. except that this time, touma has given him an opportunity to flirt back. strange. “that’s lukewarm kissing, even i have my standards. i guess french kissing would be too much…~ especially for someone as prudish like you.” seol relaxes his shoulders, tilting his head as he glances at the soju bottle that touma eventually picks up. before he could say anything, touma is already drinking it straight from the bottle.
so stupid, he thinks to himself. what a stupid look. none of these thoughts are translated to his face. “look, we had an indirect kiss~” he leans in closer with the usual sleazy smile he always has on his face. “if only that was a direct one, huh?” a jest, or maybe not. who knows? kissing touma would be both hilarious and unsatisfying. “mmh, missed you so much that i have to burn the memory of this into my brain. it’s like there’s an empty space in my heart now~” he knows that this entire conversation is nothing but absurd nonsense, that touma is taking none of this seriously. he was a little more passionate back then, and now that light has dimmed.
he remembers that pale, sleeping face in a room of white. ghostly, even. a body laying there with a human melancholy he could not understand. when touma leans into his shoulder, his heartbeat remains unchanged—until the mention of that peculiar visitor he brings up. heartbeats cannot lie, can they? but it’s not like the other boy would detect the slightest change in heartbeats. seol swallows it away, he’ll need to shift this topic away.
“huuh? that’s odd… a secret admirer of yours then? it’s not impossible.” he pretends to ponder. “or maybe he’s a stalker… you should be more careful, then.” seol catches the glance. yet again, looking absolutely stupid with the reddened cheeks. he smiles an insincere smile back. “getting drunk already? that was quick. you kinda suck, touma-san.”
so pathetic, it’s irritating him. amazing, isn’t it? how touma could pull out such an emotion for him. he wants him to burst into flames, leaving not even ash behind.
very gently, seol pries the soju bottle away from the latter. he pushes the cold neck of the bottle against touma’s lips, “i think you’re really pretty though.” you aren’t. “i might fall in love, for real.” i won’t. “it makes me want to kiss you right now—“ he dips his head down, pressing his own lips against the opposite side of the glass, closing the distance. his eyes doesn’t smile as they pierce into touma’s, there’s no glimmer of light in them, only a dark shadow looming over.
“just like this,” a whisper, soft and mellow. “i missed you dearly, touma.” i don’t miss you.
their paths don’t cross often, they’re in different clubs and majors, but seol remembers remarkable people. they don’t have to be particularly outstanding in terms of social status, their grades, or whatever; it could be their personality. the girl named harumi was one of them. an angel, too kind for her own good. a saint, even. it’s remarkable how in such a place, someone could be so innocent. people like her could be easily taken advantage of, but that’s only what seol sees on the surface. he doesn’t knows her, only ever the silent observer to those in the light.
“stuck? need an umbrella?” the earlier sunny weather had abruptly turned into pitter patters of rain, and it looks like it’s only going to get heavier. seol noticed the girl was stuck in the building, and it didn’t seemed like the girl has an umbrella with her. his umbrella is big enough for two people, why not offer it to the pitiful girl? so he gives a small smile, tilting his head to the side. “i don’t mind sharing it, i’m not in a rush to get to anywhere.” it’s a funny coincidence that now, he has an opportunity to speak with her.
IT'S ME..!! and this is a starter call :D
i'm still on hiatus but please like this post if you'd like a random starter from me, and i'll get to them after my hiatus! seol is in dire need of threads... i may come to you for a bit of plotting if necessary!! hwaryun may need new threads too but i'll post a plot/starter call for him when im officially back!
there's quite an amount of new people im seeing around as well so i'm going to quickly link his profile and background (..◜ᴗ◝..) see you guys soon!
july monthly prompt ／ 001.
› theatrical mundaneness.
nothing has changed as seol drifts through the mundane semester listlessly. knowing what results he’ll get from his exams without being informed about it, then quietly watching as a variety of colourful emotions spring around him, be it ambition, stress or conflict.
such dazzling things that could burn him away, he sometimes wonders how it feels like.
“they called me weird, it’s funny, isn’t it?” seol softly talks to someone. “well, i was expecting something worse. like getting slapped, or something.”
the rays of dusk peeks through the curtains, barely touching the leaves. the boy continues to talk about the meaningless things that happened in his life, with her always listening to him silently.
“i saw a girl studying hard recently, carrying a mountain of books with her. i wonder, if that’s the backbone of her life.”
the boy pulls more of the curtains for more shade. the summer sunshine isn’t good for her, otherwise she’ll burn.
“the dance captain still hasn’t come back. even then, he had the guts to approach me earlier. tragic, right?” a heartless laugh erupts from him as he plops down on his bed all alone. he wants to get a smoke, but he’s too tired for that.
“i kissed a girl yesterday, she liked it, but told me i reeked of alcohol. was i suppose to stop? so i refused her, a little harshly to see how she responded… and she looked at me like i was trash.”
whatever that came to his mind, anything ridiculous or pathetic—seol tells her. each time, he’s greeted with silence.
“the end of the month is coming soon too, i have to write another one of those monthly reports to that person…” seol mutters on as he lays his back on the back, looking at the empty ceiling. “at this point, i don’t know what to write. remember last month? i wrote just two sentences, but seems like they’re fine with it.”
a mysterious stranger who allowed him to live his life like this in yeonhwa university, he always wondered how that person benefits from this. he’s never seen their face, and everytime he sends his monthly reports, he never gets an answer back.
he has an inkling it’s someone he knows, but seol has never found out who it is.
“what am i doing with this pointless life?” a question that will never be answered, for as long as he lives. kim seol has applied for multiple clubs, quitted them, joined new ones—yet he’s never found anything that stuck with him. he picked computer science because he thought it’ll be hard, but it wasn’t. he went into theatre and performance to actually act out roles to vaguely figure out his sense of identity, and yet he still feels nothing.
like a cloud in the skies, yet there’s nothing there when you reach out for it.
“do you think i’m pitiful?” if she could answer him, what would she say to him? what does she think about him?
not like it matters, does it? it’s better to live not knowing anything, or loving anything.
this is how he’s lied to himself his entire life.
seol slowly drifts off into a dreamless sleep, uncaring if he naps for too long. he’ll wake up at night, perhaps join one of those ridiculous drinking parties again, pretending to get drunk while making merry. he’ll come back to his room in the morning, and perhaps, write his monthly report if he feels like it.
Hello to my strange sponsor,
I’m in my fourth year now, and I completed my exams a while ago. If you send me something back, I’d be in the top 1% for you. I think I’m going to get a mark above average this time, don’t expect anything great though, I’m not smart.
Yeonchella happened, it wasn’t fun it was fun I guess? I didn’t do much other than eat, and drink. I didn’t cared. There was this weird kissing booth too, but it was for charity. Sounds like they’re doing something good. It’s stupid.
Do I get a ‘thanks’ this time? It’s been years, aren’t you tired of hiding from me?
See you next month.
From Ahn Eunbyul Kim Seol.
would you rather be perceived as mysterious, funny, or hot? (you can only pick one)
“what are these questions? haha~ i don’t want any of these, if you want me to be honest. being perceived as mysterious will pique people’s curiosity, it’ll be annoying if they came flocking to me like flies, won’t it? so that’s out of the question. that goes for being hot. when you’re visually attractive, people’s eyes will remain on you no matter where you go, and they’ll approach you for shallow purposes. isn’t that a pain in the ass? that leaves ‘funny’, it has a positive connotation to it no matter what i do that causes you to think i’m ‘funny’. the other two has more neutral perceptions to it, that could easily blur into the negatives. so why wouldn’t i pick the most positive one?”
