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Prompting is currently open. Prompting is open from 28 December 2024 to 19 January 2025.
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"the poem begins not where the knife enters, but where the blade twists"
"beauty is terror"
"you'll just have to taste me, when he's kissing you"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy a hit tweet.
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- Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above;
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[REMIX] my will across the sky in stars
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: fire emblem three houses AU, self-denial, pikachu meme if pikachu understood the human condition
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghan has always been easy to love.
He was his mother’s favourite, because he always paused in his path when she reached out to run her fingers through his hair. He was the servants’ favourite, because he rarely made requests, and only did so with a polite lilt to his voice and the most courteous of words. To the local lords, he was by far the favourite of the younger generation, for he sat quietly during church and listened to the sermon with a small smile.
It was easy to be loved, when one knew what people wanted. His mother wanted reassurance and attention, for his father was either absent from home or preoccupied by business. The servants wanted peace and gratitude, for they were kept busy by people who never looked them in the eye. And the local lords, they wanted to see obedience, to know that the next generation was devout to the same goddess, faithful to the same cause.
Jeonghan is young when his father takes him to the Choi estate, but not too young because he is able to think: this is my father’s friend. And when he meets Choi Seungcheol, the five year old snotty-nosed, cherry-lipped boy with heavy lashes and a heavier pout, Jeonghan thinks — and this is my friend.
And then later, as Seungcheol wrestles him into the grass in the Choi estate gardens, ruining Jeonghan’s braided hair and throwing one of his shoes into the fountain, Jeonghan thinks, I suppose we could be friends.
And then later, as they both learn to how to curry a horse, to polish a sword, to twist a lance into a straw man, Jeonghan thinks —
Here is a boy who needs to win.
Here is a boy who needs me to see him win.
And then later, as they learn to twist the neck of a hare so that it dies in an instant, when Jeonghan wipes the tears from Seungcheol’s eyes and the blood from his hand, Jeonghan thinks —
Here is a boy who contains no darkness.
Here is a boy who must defend the weak.
And then later, as Jeonghan talks him into running away from their governess, from the reason class which Seungcheol hates, as they hide together in the reading room which no one uses, as Seungcheol grasps his hand with both of his own and looks at Jeonghan with an earnestness so bright, it feels inconsolable.
You’re an angel, Seungcheol says.
And Jeonghan thinks —
Oh.
And then, oh no.
Jeonghan had always found it easy to see through people.
Seungcheol’s father sends him briefs on each student enrolled at Garreg Mach. Seungcheol brushes it aside in favour of shopping for new axe handles. Jeonghan picks up the pages from Seungcheol’s breakfast table.
Jeon Wonwoo. Empire noble, oldest son, but his father was the youngest of three. Jihoon had seen him at the harvest day feast, reading a book half hidden under the table. Jeonghan knows his type. Born into responsibility, but preferring to avoid it. He will be impressionable and eager to defer to authority.
Kwon Soonyoung. Alliance commoner, son of a steelworker, danced so well at the solstice festivities that even Kingdom peasants heard of his hips. But new money is fragile money, and Soonyoung will be pressured to succeed and cement his family’s fortunes. Being a commoner, he will not have the same education of the noble children, and will struggle in class. A weakness Jeonghan will exploit.
Wen Junhui. Stateless. Little was known of him, except that he is currently a guest in the Kim estate. The Kims had adopted Xu Minghao a decade prior, a war refugee who bore the crest of Indech. There was a motive there, but the grander ambition Jeonghan needs to sniff out, for the Kims was an old Empire family near the Kingdom border.
One month into the semester, Jeonghan overplays his hand in a fishing competition that leaves Xu Minghao teary-eyed, Kim Mingyu hard-pressed, and Wen Junhui turning on his heel and striding the other way.
Fine, Jeonghan thinks, espionage can wait a few more moons. He decides to forsake his duties entirely and indulge in the freedom of academy life, lounging in the sun by the fishing pond, reading books stolen from Professor Jeritza’s desk.
But curiosity maintains the habit of pilfering the reports from Seungcheol’s father. Reports of changing political winds, shifts in voting blocs in the Emperor’s cabinet, a new student enrolling abruptly.
Hong Jisoo. Bastard son of a margrave, raised as a commoner. Mother was a prominent figure in the western church but recently assassinated by separatists, Jisoo to be transferred to Garreg Mach as a ward of the church. Diplomatic hostage, Jeonghan reads between the lines. He knows how the cards fall when the greater powers wrestle.
Every sentence is a collection of troubled traits Jeonghan is gleeful to analyse. He expects Jisoo to be broody, resentful. Raised on the edges of privilege but never a beneficiary of it. It would sting, to be perennially aware of the much you can never have. Kids like Jisoo tend to be outcasts, fated to recreate the exile they were born into.
Jeonghan catches a glimpse of Jisoo when Mingyu takes him on a tour of the grounds. Jeonghan gives a light wave and his friendliest smile from his perch by the pond, but Mingyu purses his lips and hurries Jisoo along, face darkening as he whispers in Jisoo’s ear.
But Jisoo’s face does not change, he smiles back at Jeonghan, pleasant as the summer wind and shallow as an hour’s frost. The crinkle by his eye is impermeable, suggesting amicability and nothing further. The tilt of his head exactly enough to be kind but not inquiring. The perfect pilgrim, Jeonghan thinks. A face you could confess to.
They shared faith classes, Jisoo far more proficient than Jeonghan ever will be, spells practised into mantras. But Jeonghan has a habit of keeping his eyes open during the Archbishop’s prayers for he was neither devout nor conformist. And so he sees amidst the bowed heads, Hong Jisoo with his chin held high, mouth hard and eyes even harder, staring into the stained glass with a bitterness that could only belong to the unbelieving.
Jeonghan thinks — Here is a boy who hides his darkness.
Here is a boy I want to befriend.
It takes Jeonghan a few attempts to wriggle into Jisoo’s spheres. Jisoo is busy after their faith class, Minghao steers him away from Jeonghan’s table in the dining hall, and Jisoo is a stellar student who should be tutoring rather than tutored. It takes a fortuitous assignment of stable duty before Jeonghan is able to talk to Jisoo proper. Like most students born of the common class, Jisoo has never been taught to ride or groom. Jeonghan takes the curry brush from Jisoo’s hand and teaches him how to brush a horse, how to carry gentleness in a hand and home in a voice. And then later, Jeonghan teaches him how to sneak into the saunas without a teacher, which of the stray cats were the friendliest, and when the kitchen serves the best meals.
And then later, Jeonghan introduces Hong Jisoo to Choi Seungcheol, and sees the way Jisoo’s breath catches, how his eyes linger on Seungcheol’s face and hold a hurricane of longing beneath a practised smile. Jeonghan thinks —
Here is a boy who wants a boy who wants me.
Here is a boy I can teach to be wanted.
And so, Jeonghan teaches Jisoo everything about Seungcheol and watches the adoration bloom in his eyes. How Seungcheol’s favourite meal were the meat skewers and least favourite was the peach sorbet. The tribulations of Seungcheol’s first hunt and first ride. How Seungcheol was driven to win at all costs yet refused to fight needlessly. How he was a boy who contained no darkness and could not see the darkness within people.
And later, Jeonghan teaches Jisoo when to watch Seungcheol’s practice, how to time his praise so that Seungcheol is the proudest, what to say and how to say it. Which classes Seungcheol detests, and would inevitably ask to copy homework. Which merchant sold Seungcheol’s favourite whetstone and when they restocked. All details which Jeonghan knew like the contours of his own hand, retelling with the familiarity of his own life. It was Jeonghan’s joy, to share his stories with Jisoo, to sit with him in the lazy sunlight on stolen afternoons, his own head resting on Jisoo’s lap and gazing upwards at the boy who was so beautiful it puts the heart in his chest on wings. Jeonghan thinks
I want you to be never lonely again. I want you to be safe. I want you to understand me as I understand you.
And Jeonghan thinks —
Oh.
And then, oh no.
Re: [REMIX] my will across the sky in stars
well first the structural elegance of this fill, the parallelism! i think you are so strong at these kinds of big picture questions of structure/form (i want to use the language of composition/value/shape design as an artist) and i love how you set up the contrast between what is expected of jeonghan and what he himself wants. i love how jeonghan’s thoughts go from this is my friend > i suppose we could be friends regarding seungcheol, and the almost counterintuitive phrasing there is really effective in illustrating how even as a child he’s painfully aware of the slippage between expectations vs reality – but also the gulf between them.
you do a great job of drawing out the irony in that respect: jeonghan sees himself as easy to love, which is why seungcheol loves him; he's exactly what everyone expects and needs him to be. so not only is it unexpected that jeonghan comes to love jisoo, in terms of the expectations surrounding his social class/position as academy noble, but it's a breath of fresh air to find someone immune to his charm and opaque to his understanding! someone whose love and companionship he has to work for and even then never fully attain. and then, jeonghan’s realization at the end is suchhhh a great counterpoint to the first one: the lazy sunlight of his companionship with jisoo vs. seungcheol's inconsolably bright adoration.
and i SO love that you leaned into jeonghan as spymaster too and used that to sketch out some of the other seventeenies’ roles in this world. yes unwilling heir jww! new money alliance commoner ksy! obsessed with whatever is going on with gyujunhao here and the fishing competition!! i'm so looking forward to ur full writeup of fe3hteen profiles ^_^ thank u so much for remixing hwa, it's truly a gift to play in the space with u
Re: [REMIX] my will across the sky in stars
Thank you for being such a wonderful reader (and writer)! You’ve pinpointed the reasons why I’ve set up the fic this way ;____; I wanted to write something short before the flame of inspiration burned out, so I wanted the structure of the fic, and the comparison between the cs/js to set up the irony, and thereby the agony within jeonghan’s circumstances. This was a story that I probably spent thrice as much time thinking compared to writing. I also reread [the dust of our years] over and over again, scouring for the details, looking for the gaps where another story could fit. I wanted to be faithful to /your/ jihancheol, and most especially /your/ jeonghan (although in the scheme of things we both come back to his empathetic clarity and martyr tendencies!)
Right after reading, I knew the points I wanted to hit:
Funnily enough the profiles of wonwoo/soonyoung/junhui I wrote first because I’ve just been thinking /so much/ of fe3hsvt and in writing it didn’t quite fit the parallelisms nicely but I /needed/ to throw it in because it was so fun to think about, the wider universe where they exist (and suffer).
In writing and thinking, I lead myself into my own devastation:
Thank you for reading and enjoying!! I love playing in this sandbox with you as well!!