#THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH WARNING HANGS OVER ME CONSTANTLY. HAUNTING MY NIGHTMARES

[cmedics-hell]

chapter 9 update:

[chalkrevelations]

WELL. Episode 3 of Word of Honor.

First of all: If you are NEW or JUST VISITING, this is a re-watch, so there are SPOILERS not just for this ep, but for the ENTIRE SHOW. A lot of them, actually. Scroll away and come back later if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled.

So, this ep feels a little disjointed. I don’t think it actually is, not in the way the back nine are a speedrun where the writing starts to feel like it’s thisclose to coming off the rails, but it feels like it, in that we’re now getting a double handful of threads thrust at us that are only just starting to be woven together into a plot, and it’s the kind of hot mess that any fiberwork looks like before the pattern starts to show itself, particularly when you’re using 15 different color threads from jump. There’s generally a major theme or issue or overriding concept that stands out to me in each ep that, you may have noticed, gets primacy of place in these reactions, but honestly, y’all, I really struggled to figure out what that might be for this episode, because a lot of this, on re-watch, strikes me as groundwork for later developments. Wen Kexing gives us an “as you know, Bob” speech about the Amory and the Glazed Armor, we meet approx. 3.2K new characters, and I feel sort of like I should start keeping a chart of who’s supposed to have a piece of the Glazed Armor and who actually does have a piece of the Glazed Armor, but it’s already so confusing that it might be too late.*

ANYWAY, on re-watch, I can absolutely see the value of spending Eps 1 & 2 on introducing us to Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing and getting us pulled into their orbit, because then we have scenes we’re already invested in to maintain our interest as the background politics begin to frustratingly play out with a bunch of people we don’t know or have any investment in yet. I mean, y’all. I forgot just what an ill-tempered gremlin ZZS was in these early eps. He is so fk’n put out that these people will not let him drink himself to death in the gutter in peace! Or, you know, in occasional Nightly Nails Torment. And the exasperation from both ZZS and Chengling over WKX’s antics – both of their faces are priceless in the scene when they discover he’s the one who’s bought out all the rooms at the inn. I literally lol’d. Again. Even knowing it was coming. All of this interaction is so delightful. This is actually the ep that provoked my very first WoH keysmash flailing Tumblr post and inaugurated the “wen kexing’s thirst is practically a third character” tag. I guess the biggest throughline for this ep is that we can continue to see how everything changes when we know about their previous relationship – things like WKX’s insistence that they have a “deep bond through fate” take on additional layers of meaning rather than just sounding like some dude who’s trying to pick you up at last call. Interesting that ZZS describes WKX at one point during their push-pull conversational dance as “like a wretched soul that keeps haunting around.” You mean, like a GHOST? Like a Ghost Valley ghost? Like the almost forgotten memory of a past life ghost? ZZS wants to know why WKX keeps following him around, and it would be nice if WKX would just come clean, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

ZZS, re: Chengling: I do my best to ensure what was entrusted to me.

WKX: :makes (already! in ep 3!) yet another in a series of bad decisions not to say anything about the fact that he, himself, was in fact entrusted to ZZS:

Show: Here’s the first of many helpings of heartache to come. EAT IT. EAT IT ALL.

(Me: Well, here’s another AU idea: What would the course of this relationship be like if WKX flat-out asked ZZS what ZZS’s relationship to Four Seasons Manor was, and bare-faced claimed sanctuary as long-lost shidi Zhen Yan at this point? Because I bet there are plenty of ways that could actually go wrong. Not to mention the deliciousness of just watching them navigate a relationship shift that sudden. I feel like, at this point, WKX would have to be actively confrontational about it, would have to throw it in ZZS’s face – it would need to be something he did in the heat of anger, in order to have this pushed out past all of his fears. Like, you say that, but where were you when I needed you? Also, you think so, well what if your responsibility actually turned out to be the TERRIFYING GHOST VALLEY MASTER, what then, huh? And ZZS, still pretty actively suicidal over all of his failures, having to deal with what’s now being presented as YET ANOTHER FAILURE.)

Also, the theme of “knowing” (zhiji, the one I know) is starting to slide in sideways – we’re seeing a lot of back and forth between them asking about seeing the other’s “true face.” WKX says that he’ll tell ZZS what he (WKX) wants from him once he gets to see ZZS’s true face (LIES, it’s going to take a lot longer than that). ZZS asks to see WKX’s figurative true face, and WKX looks kind of sad and contemplative as he warns that it may be unappealing or terrifying. So, you know, we’re starting to poke at all the softest, most tender places and the issues that are going to stab me repeatedly in the heart for the rest of the show. We’re also already seeing the way Xiao Chu just layered in references throughout the script when she wrote it that call back to each other – it’s like almost any line of dialogue references three other lines of dialogue (and that’s without even getting into all of the literary references that I’m missing because I don’t have cultural context). You get things like WKX’s little speech right at the end that it’s hard to tell a ghost from a human, which on its face might be referring to the two “ghosts” that were coming for Chengling that he took care of and act as an admonishment to ZZS not to be so quick to assume they’re actually from Ghost Valley, but it also refers to WKX, himself, and specifically lays the groundwork (“someone wearing a ghost mask is not necessarily a ghost”) for his conversation in a later ep with ZZS when he asks if ZZS thinks he’s a good person, and also calls back (“someone who looks human may not be human”) to the line from earlier in this ep, itself, when WKX tells ZZS that perhaps WKX’s true face is terrifying. And so we get a nicely little wrapped package of the dichotomy of WKX and his issues. (As a somewhat related aside, A-Xiang’s little face when Zhou Zishu says all of the ghosts of Ghost Valley are full of evil (at 6:55). D: This reaction is obviously for herself, but also may be the first time she acts as proxy for Wen Kexing, as well.)

What else, what else?

So, nobody has a good opinion of the jianghu. WKX is going to be constantly all, “You killed my father, jianghu, prepare to die,” but ZZS also goes off about how it’s just about greed, hatred and ignorance, and yeah, I guess he’d have a pretty bad impression of it, when Prince Jin and Tian Chuang seemed like a better option than the pressure he was facing, trying to keep Siji Manor Sect alive back in the day. We talk a lot about WKX’s childhood trauma, because it’s so awful and right in our faces, but I don’t know how much we actually talk about the fact that ZZS was a teenager not much older than Chengling when he inherited a sect and tried desperately to keep it from being torn apart by the rest of the jianghu. I think we see some bitterness come out in the first few episodes – frankly, in this ep, he doesn’t seem to make much of a distinction between Ghost Valley and the rest of the jianghu. Also interesting that the metaphor he uses about the jianghu’s and Ghost Valley’s greed for the treasures of the Armory is “reaping without sowing,” given what we find out is actually in there in Ep 36.

We see our metaphor of light get pulled out again – this throughline strikes me as more like beads on a string than a thread, at this point, but maybe I’ll notice it more on this second time through … Anyway, WKX’s comment at 9:11 that it’s almost dawn is notable. Indeed, but is it because your plan is beginning to work and you can see the destruction of Ghost Valley and the jianghu coming down the pike, or is it because you’ve found your shixiong?

I notice WKX has color-coordinated ZZS and Chengling in the robes he bought for them, has already grouped them together, marked them as belonging to each other – he’s already subtly treating them as each other’s family. The show, with a particular lack of subtlety, also will have ZZS there to wake up Chengling from nightmares later in the end of the ep, as Chengling calls out for his dad in his sleep.

OK, Deng Kuan is the guy in charge of the Yueyang sect contingent that arrived in time to see the Mirror Lake chaos in Ep 2 and has taken charge of cleaning up the bodies in this ep. I actually overlooked him, pretty much, the first time around, but here, he’s already got Shen Shen yelling at him (in a completely ridiculous fashion) for not getting there in time to save the Mirror Lake Sect, so he’s just going to be a punching bag through the whole show, apparently. Shen Shen is wu-di, fifth (little) brother, and he refers to Chengling’s dad as si-ge, fourth (older) brother, so Shen Shen appears to be the youngest of the Five Lakes sworn brothers, leading me to believe that some of what makes him so insufferable through a lot of the show is baby brother syndrome. Also, Shen Shen and his group find the Soul Winding Threads of the Hanged Ghost … supposedly. I mean, the Hanged Ghost was the guy who we saw get got in Ep 1, soooooo …. (remember these Soul Winding Threads, btw).

*This got super long so I’m’a put this last bit under a cut, but I did try to start a running tally of who’s holding a piece of the Glazed Armor:

Each of the Five Lakes Alliance sects is supposed to have a piece of the Glazed Armor, yes? So, as of the end of Ep 3 (hierarchical bro-titles are from didi Shen Shen’s POV):

- Yueyang Sect, led by Gao Chong (da-ge) - presumably still has his

- Tai Hu Sect, led by Zhao Jing (er-ge) – presumably still has his

- Danyang Sect, led by Lu Taichong (san-ge, presumably) – apparently the sect has already been attacked off-screen (by “Ghost Valley?” and WHEN?), as we learn in Ep 3 that Lu-zongzhu has been killed and his remaining two tiny disciples have fled to the protection of Ao Laizi and Tai Shan Sect, one of the lesser sects, and are believed to have taken Danyang’s Glazed Armor with them. We learn this from Tao Hong, Lv Liu and Begger Gang Chief, but I notice that Gao Chong only mentions the Mirror Lake massacre as the precipitating event for the Hero’s Conference and total war on Ghost Valley – he doesn’t even mention Danyang Sect, so does Five Lakes not know about this yet?

- Mirror Lake Sect, led by Zhang Yusen (si-ge) – Zhang-zongzhu killed by “Ghost Valley” in Ep 2, Glazed Armor “missing” and speculated POST EP 2 to have been taken by Ghost Valley (but will turn up in a few eps, thanks to our little Goldbean)

- Dagu Shan Sect, led by Shen Shen (wu-di) – presumably still has his

And then we move to:

- Tai Shan Sect, led by Ao Laizi – in-world speculation is that he now has the Danyang Glazed Armor. We do see him near the end of the ep with the two tiny Danyang shidi, where he makes the intriguing comment that he’s going to follow their shifu’s last wishes and keep their Glazed Armor from falling into the hands of the Five Lakes Alliance, so what exactly was going on between San-ge and his sworn brothers at the time of his death? This group also is apparently being pursued by Shen Shen to get their Glazed Armor, and they make him sound awful. You need better PR, Shen Shen.

- Ghost Valley – POST EP 2, speculated to have taken the Mirror Lake Glazed Armor (FALSE)

NOTABLY, “Ghost Valley Master” set a lot of this chaos in motion in Ep 1 when he claimed that Hanged Ghost (who got got a scene earlier) had stolen HIS piece of the Glazed Armor, although he shouldn’t have a piece (supposedly) until after Ep 2, when he’s believed to have taken Mirror Lake’s. So, what piece would that be, exactly, Terrifying Ghost Valley Master? You wouldn’t be lying in pursuit of chaos would you? (Somewhere, WKX gasps theatrically behind his fan, and he doesn’t even know what motivated it, this time.)

[starlocked01]

And at Last I See the Light

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary:  This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting. Content Warning: Major Character Death, Cussing, Kissing, Crying, Panic and Anxiety

Day 21 Analogical- (Combined AUs)  You see the world in black and white until you first touch your soulmate, Everyone is born with a gift or power that is nullified in the immediate presence of your soulmate, You have until midnight of your 26th birthday to find and identify your soulmate or else you both die.

This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting.

I should explain. This man was my soulmate in life and his gift was one of renewal. Flowers drooping in a vase would spring up at his touch. People nearing death found their ailments eased a while longer so they could say goodbyes. Wounds healed quicker for him and the weary found new strength at his encouragement. It was a gift that brought more beauty to the world; one I failed to appreciate.

Perhaps you will not repeat my mistakes.

Virgil yawned and stretched awake. The bright grey of the morning dawn made him squint in annoyance as he rolled out of bed and thudded to the floor. He could dream in color and frankly preferred dreams to the living world.

Today especially Virgil would have preferred to roll over back asleep. Today marked the beginning of the end as most people saw it.

Virgil had one year left to find his soulmate or they both would die.

That was of course unless his soulmate was older and had less than a year of their own. Frankly, Virgil thought the universe had a rather twisted sense of humor. It withheld color and life from those who most needed a reason to push forward each day. And gave them a freaking time limit to fall in line.

Soulmates were bullshit.

He'd already been touched by every kid at school and from the surrounding districts. Normally, when kids graduated high school and hadn't found their soulmates, they'd go to college to find a wider selection of people their age to try and match with, but Virgil had decided against college. He'd been called crazy but frankly, he didn't much care.

Virgil shrugged on what appeared to him as a black hoodie with drab grey patches and ran his fingers through his hair. His bangs fell right back in his face as he headed down the stairs. He brushed his hand through the vase of flowers his grandmother constantly forgot to water and watched as petals and leaves in various shades of grey perked up, ready for another day of neglect.

For his birthday, the atmosphere in the kitchen sure felt like his funeral.

"Good morning, Nana," Virgil murmured, grabbing the box of cereal from the table and reaching in to grab a handful.

"Get out," she spat at him, "either find your soulmate or die in obscurity so I can pretend you found a lovely woman and settled down in the country."

"Love you too, Nana," Virgil sighed and grabbed his messenger bag.

"Why are you the only one who doesn't want to be happy?" she asked, voice choked with sadness.

"I don't need a soulmate to be a complete person. If I find someone I find someone. If not, oh well. I've had friends and family I was happy with and soulmates tore them away from me. It's a broken system and if I die being myself, I'll come to haunt you until you join me in the afterlife," Virgil smiled softly and kissed her on the cheek.

She laughed dryly, "you don't scare me, little verbena. Please, try to find them. I love you." Virgil saluted as he left the apartment for work.

The great thing about working in the library was the quiet shuffle of people reverently browsing through the shelves piled high with more words than they could possibly read. Virgil enjoyed the calm and helping people find what books they were looking for. Except when the only fact they knew about the book was the color of the cover. When those people asked he would flash his grey eyes at them and smile sweetly before saying they all looked the same to him. Most people would act horrified and apologize profusely. Some would get angry and demand assistance he couldn't provide. Roman usually stepped in at that point, and despite having met Janus a year ago, rarely was able to locate books by color. At the very least he always offered Virgil sympathy when the guest walked away.

"You just have to go where the young people are, Virgil. They come to the city looking for soulmates, you need to spend more time with people your age. I'm sure your soulmate is out there looking for you!" Roman grinned, "Jan and I go to this great bar-"

"Let me stop you there, Princey," Virgil chuckled, "I don't do bars or crowds. Even going with you two sounds like a nightmare. I'm not going to subject myself to that for what? Some strangers to touch me and change the whole world to color? Lame," Virgil rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week.

"Um, excuse me. I need assistance logging on to your computer system. If I need to register for a card to do so I would like the forms to start that process," Virgil swiveled in his seat towards the man's voice and lost his own.

He looked like a man out of an old black and white film, (to Virgil every film was black and white, but Nana insisted there was a difference when pictures changed to color) his hair was slicked back and face was punctuated by thin black glasses frames that accentuated the stranger's cheeks and nose. His silhouette was sleekly defined in a black polo and grey jeans, with a slightly more saturated grey tie. Virgil felt as though the man's presence had taken his breath away.

"Can you help me?" the man cleared his throat and Virgil snapped back to present.

"Sorry, of course, sir. Do you have a form of identification to apply for a library card? The card is required to access the computers, unfortunately," Virgil rattled off the spiel from memory while pulling out the form and a new card. The stranger handed him his driver's license.

The first thing he noticed was that it was an out of state ID. The second was the birthdate, just a month before his. The third was the man's name.

"Thank you, Logan. If you would just fill out this form, I just need to make a copy for our records."

"Certainly, thank you- what's your name?"

"His name is Virgil and he's single," Roman slid in with a wink at Logan. Virgil quickly turned and walked to the photocopier, heat rising in his cheeks. He could just hear the man's reply.

"Thanks? I don't really do relationships. Do you have a pen?"

Virgil took several deep breaths. He'd had crushes like this before. It would go away as he learned more about this Logan. He grabbed the copy paper and the ID and returned to the front desk.

"Here's your ID back," he traded Logan the ID for the paperwork and scanned through it quickly, "looks like you forgot to put down a phone number, what was that?" Virgil realized a second too late how that would sound to literally anyone as Roman snickered at him, but there was a blank space on the form.

Logan looked incredibly confused, "no, that's- I couldn't have forgotten. The number is- wait," he pulled a cellphone out of his back and read the number off to Virgil who jotted it down in the correct space.

"You're looking kinda pale there, Logan, do you need to sit down?" Roman looked concerned and even Virgil could see what he was talking about.

Logan shook his head, "I never- ever- forget anything. Ever."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess," Virgil shrugged and slid the library card across the desk.

"You don't understand, my gift is perfect recall. A permanent eidetic memory. I don't forget. I should know my own phone number like I know the digits of pi."

"Nerd!" Roman coughed to hide his laughing and both Logan and Virgil glared at him.

"That is pretty strange.. I hope it gets fixed for you soon? Anyway, you're all set, Logan. Let me know if you need anything else," Virgil smiled.

"Thank you-" Logan snapped his fingers a few times before giving up trying to remember, head hung in defeat.

"Virgil," Virgil supplied softly.

"Thank you, Virgil. It was nice meeting you two," Logan walked away from the desk and straight toward the nearest open monitor.

"You better ask him out or I'm breaking up with Janus for a chance at that," Roman said in a low voice to Virgil.

"No, you won't. He's out of both of our leagues anyway," Virgil smirked at his coworker's offended gasp and returned to checking in returned books.

"His tie was blue, by the way," Roman winked and turned to find another patron who needed help.

Logan came back to the library every day except the holidays for the next few weeks and always made a point of asking Virgil when he had questions or needed help. Roman insisted it was mutual pining but Virgil held fast to the comment that Logan doesn't do relationships. Unless he heard otherwise from Logan himself, Virgil refused to imagine a relationship was possible.

He was completely blindsided when Logan asked if he would like to hang out after his shift.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"I would like to spend time with you when you are not otherwise preoccupied with your duties. Is that not acceptable?" Logan was always so direct. Virgil felt his heart flutter just a bit, nowhere near as intense as it had the day they met.

"I mean yeah that would be cool," Virgil smirked.

"So do you do bars or-?" Logan looked put off even making the suggestion.

"I know a cafe that has decent decaf; if you'd like we can walk there from here. I'm off at 6," Virgil watched as Logan nodded decisively.

"Excellent, I look forward to it," Logan grinned and Virgil found himself grinning back.

Roman slowly inched closer in his rolling chair, eyes wide with excitement and jaw dropped in disbelief, "Virge, do you have a date after work?"

"No! We're just hanging out," Virgil turned to ignore Roman.

"'Hanging Out' is code for a date. Maybe he's your soulmate! Brush his hand or something and find out!" Roman was bouncing in his chair now.

"No! That's so rude! Did you do that to Janus? Don't answer that- I bet you did," Virgil rolled his eyes, "it's not a date to the extent of my knowledge."

"Oh my god, you're mirroring him. You like him so much! Virgil, this could be it!" Virgil glared at Roman and shushed him in true librarian fashion before standing to grab the cart and collect used books from the tables.

Virgil picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to leave but was surprised to see Logan waiting for him by the door. He had been certain Logan would have either forgotten or changed his mind and left by now.

Roman gave Virgil a huge cheesy grin and a thumbs up, "good luck on your date!" his whisper could probably have been heard in Russia.

Virgil felt the heat rising in his cheeks and shrugged his hoodie on tighter over his shoulders, waving off Roman and walking over to join Logan by the door.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Are you ready? If you need more time-" Logan started.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here before Roman starts taking pictures," Virgil turned to leave, taking purposeful steps to the door and flipping Roman off behind his back. Logan followed briskly. Virgil led him to his favorite coffee shop, quiet on the walk there.

The question was burning in his mind though. Was this supposed to be a romantic date? Or worse a soulmate test. Virgil had gathered that Logan was rather frank, but he really didn't know the man at all.

Both of them reached to grab the door to the shop at the same time. Virgil snapped his hand back.

"Please, allow me," Logan opened the door and ushered Virgil inside. Virgil wanted to shrink until he was invisible. He tried a quick controlled breathing exercise to calm his nerves. They each ordered and Logan excused himself.

"Virgil! Come help me out over here!" the owner, Mr. Dolenz, looked rather put out by a droopy speckled grey potted fern by the front door.

"Oh no, not Tabitha," Virgil walked over, surveying the damage to the plant. Each leaf he fingered grew stronger and healthier until the whole fern was practically an inch taller. Virgil smiled as Mr. Dolenz thanked him profusely, "maybe keep an eye out to make sure people aren't dumping drinks on her. That could really mess with the soil pH."

"You're a miracle worker! You and your boyfriend's drinks are on me," the owner clasped Virgil hard on the back. He couldn't respond before the man was already bustling back towards the kitchen. Virgil turned to see that Logan had apparently returned in time to hear just enough. It was difficult to tell, but Virgil thought Logan might be blushing.

"What was that about?" Logan cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"Oh, people like to dump drinks they're done with on the plants and it kills them. So I just use my gift to restore the plants before they're dead for Mr. Dolenz. I think he made a few too many assumptions tonight," Virgil scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, what is your gift?" the look on Logan’s face was fascinated with Virgil’s claim.

The barista called their names and they collected the drinks before selecting a table by the windows in the corner, "I can renew things. Makes sense that I'm a librarian," Virgil laughed dryly at the tired joke, "basically I can bring a little bit of life back before it's gone. Can't really raise the dead though," he took a sip of his decaf mocha.

"That must be at least fairly useful. Is there a reason you didn't go into a medical profession?" Logan sipped his iced black coffee, looking intently at Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t take the internal tension in his mind any longer and blurted out, "is this a date? Are you trying to figure out if I'm your soulmate?" his eye went wide and he bit his tongue.

"No, did I give off that impression? I didn't want to seem too cold but-" Logan looked crestfallen.

Virgil smacked the side of his head and cursed Roman for planting the thought in his mind, "Logan, I'm sorry. You didn't- Roman- I- ah… I'm sorry. I'm just so used to everyone trying to force me into romantic scenarios that I did it to you when I knew that's not what this was- I'm so sorry. I made it awkward and now I'm rambling and you're probably just going to stand and leave-" Virgil felt a tear slip down his cheek as Logan cleared his throat.

"Actually, I understand what you mean. I too haven't found my soulmate, nor am I interested in finding them," Logan took a long sip of coffee, "I've accepted this is my last year alive. I actually moved to the city because my family wouldn't stop trying to force me into relationships as well."

"Really? Wow, that's… it's so messed up!" Virgil was worked up now and Logan was going to get the rant whether he wanted it or not, "why cut short someone's life just because they haven't found one person out of billions on the planet? And yet somehow for 99% of the population, it works! But where does that leave people like us? Discarded by the universe. It's asinine," Virgil huffed and Logan listened calmly until he was done.

"I agree," came Logan’s simple reply.

"You do?"

"I do. It's asinine. But it's how life works. Life is an ass," Virgil tried to hold back a laugh.

They talked about everything until the cafe closed. Logan talked about his research and writing and Virgil listened in wonder. Virgil talked about his interest in flowers and their symbolism while Logan nodded along. Virgil learned about Logan's previous job as an Astronomer and Logan listened to Virgil's rants about library patrons. They were joking and laughing for the whole walk back to the library. They agreed to go out for coffee at least once a week and it quickly became Virgil’s most anticipated evening each week.

Roman teased him to no end, but Virgil was comfortable in his growing friendship with Logan. His initial crush had faded into nonexistence and he simply enjoyed the man's company.

The months flew by and soon it was fall again. Virgil was so busy with the library's Halloween decorations that he almost didn't notice that Logan had not come in all day. He tried to shrug it off but the voice in the back of his head told him he needed to worry about this or he'd probably never hear from Logan again.

When Logan was nowhere to be seen the next day, Virgil texted him, asking if everything was okay. The response was sobering.

L- I apologize. I've been feeling too weak to get out of bed for the past few days. I hope you find your soulmate before your birthday, Virgil. Dying is less peaceful than I had calculated.

Virgil stared at the screen, scanning the words over and over. He could feel panic screaming in his chest, trying to drown out the world. There had to be something- he texted back.

V- can I come over? Maybe my gift will make it easier for you?

The reply was nearly immediate.

L- There is no need. I will rest today and be back to my research tomorrow. This book has a rather final deadline.

L- No pun intended.

Virgil couldn’t focus for the rest of the shift or the rest of the night. Worry for his friend gnawed at his stomach and kept him up late into the night.

True to his word, Logan arrived at the library at his usual time the next day. Virgil felt overwhelmed with relief that was quickly replaced with deep dread. Logan looked terrible. He had dark bags under his eyes and gaunt hollow cheeks. He carried himself as tall as he always had, but there was a new looseness to his movements.

Logan smiled as he approached Virgil’s station at the front desk, "I'm sorry I worried you, Virgil. Are we still on for tonight?"

Virgil nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Great, thank you," Logan turned toward his usual workspace. Virgil kept an eye on him all day. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. It was like seeing his own future, but instead of watching himself dying, he was watching the man he'd come to consider his best friend waste away.

At 6 Virgil signed out and waited for Logan to make his way to the door. He suggested he drive them over to the cafe and Logan readily agreed.

Virgil held open the door and insisted on picking up the tab. Logan wouldn't let him help physically but he would do everything he could for this man.

They sat quietly at their corner table. Virgil’s mouth was dry but he couldn’t bring himself to drink.

"Virgil?" his head snapped up hearing his name, "I have a bit of a surprise confession to make," Logan fiddled with his cup, not making eye contact, "I recently discovered that I am demiromantic. I had assumed I was aromantic but it seems I have developed feelings for you," Logan's laugh sounded hollow, "that must be pretty frightening coming from a walking corpse."

"Logan, when we first met, I had a huge crush on you. And I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other this year. I- don't have those feelings anymore, but I'm flattered, knowing you," Virgil hoped honesty would be the best policy.

Logan nodded, deep in thought, "that's fair. I'm sorry for imposing on you."

"No! No no no. You haven't. I- I understand- one-sided feelings hurt and you look like you're in so much pain. I'm not upset or weirded out. You're my best friend, Logan, and I love you platonically."

"I have less than a month until my birthday," Logan groaned softly, clutching his stomach, "I probably won't be coming in much anymore."

Virgil nodded, understanding, "can I try to use my gift on you?"

"No. I knew this was going to happen. There's no sense hiding from it now," Logan smiled weakly.

"Can I at least visit you after work? I don't want you to be alone," Virgil could sense Logan wanted to make this a goodbye but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He felt desperate to be there for Logan every minute he could afford.

Logan could see the panic in his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to be alone either.

Virgil showed up every night after work. He cooked and cleaned and did anything he could for Logan in the time they had. After Halloween, Virgil started to feel the effects of the deterioration himself, but he pushed the pain down to focus on being there with Logan.

The night before Logan’s birthday was quiet. Logan laid in his bed and Virgil sat in a chair beside him. The clock ticked audibly, much louder than it should have been. Virgil picked up the nearest book and began reading aloud. Logan visibly relaxed. After a while, Virgil turned to face Logan and whispered words of encouragement and strength. Logan wouldn't let him try anything else but it usually helped people who were tired. Nothing changed.

Logan started crying. It was barely noticeable at first (Virgil noticed) but grew in fear and pain.

"Logan, I'm here. You're not going to be alone. I promise," Virgil wanted to grab his hand, to physically comfort him in some way, but when he tried Logan pulled his hand away from Virgil's reach.

"Virgil, I love you. If I had a soulmate I would have wanted him to be you," Logan's voice was a rasp, paper-thin.

"Just, wait for me in the afterlife, I won't be long," Virgil tried to laugh but he sounded hollow.

The clock ticked louder, midnight was minutes away. Virgil wiped the tears from his cheeks and tried to smile for Logan, pulling every fiber of his being into being strong.

"Maybe it was you and I've been running from the truth," Logan reached out his hand and the clock struck midnight just before he touched Virgil’s cheek, "I think it was, but that doesn't matter anymore. I lov-" the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle finishing a wick. Logan’s body fell back to the bed and Virgil shattered.

Logan was gone. And Virgil knew that his dying breath was right. They were soulmates but it was too late.

Virgil collapsed on the bed, sobbing and holding Logan close. He was so light at the end, almost incorporeal to the touch. Virgil cried over all the pain he could have prevented, the sleepless nights dreading this one, for the friend he'd never talk to again. Logan was the only one who had ever understood, who had accepted his choices, who had believed in him when everyone else pitied him. And he was gone.

He was gone.

As if possessed, Virgil kissed his soulmate’s body on the lips and then leaned to whisper in his deaf ear, "I love you too, Logan. I love you too. You were my soulmate. I'm coming," with that he collapsed in a fresh batch of tears, crying until he was exhausted and his face was contorted and purple from the exertion.

Virgil opened his eyes. Blue. Blue eyes stared back at him from the face he'd often dreamed of in color like this. This had to be a dream. A dream of lovely blue confused eyes and disheveled brown hair. The room hadn't changed except it was morning and everything looked just like a dream. Because it had to be a dream if Logan was looking back at him with deep brilliant blue eyes filled with more questions than answers.

"Virgil?" Logan's voice croaked. Why couldn’t he dream of his soulmate how he wanted to remember him? "Virgil, what happened? What day is it?"

"It's a dream, it can be whatever day we want it to be," Virgil replied, his throat raw and voice cracking as if he'd been crying. This was rather on the nose realistic for a dream.

"Check a phone, Virgil, this isn't a dream," Logan pleaded.

"I wish it wasn't a dream. I don't want to wake up and find you cold," Virgil sighed. Kinda a stupid dream if it wasn't going to be a happy one.

Logan reached over and pinched Virgil hard on the arm. With a yelp, he jerked back and fell out of the bed. Most dreams would have ended there but as he stood, Virgil could see those blue eyes focused on him. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was on low battery but he could still read the date.

"It's November 3rd," Virgil read of the screen just before it went black.

"My birthday. I shouldn't be alive… why am I alive?"

"You can't be, that's why this is a dream?" Virgil wasn't so sure of himself anymore. Nothing in the room had changed from the night before but everything was bright and colored like his dreams.

Virgil smacked the side of his head with his palm. It hurt and Logan jumped at the sound. Dream Logan would have expected the sound.

"What was that for? Are you okay?" Logan looked alarmed. He tried to sit up in the bed. Virgil walked over and offered him a hand up. After glancing around the room, Logan accepted his hand and pulled himself up with Virgil’s help.

"So…" Virgil started.

"So," Logan answered.

"This isn't a dream."

"Not likely."

"The world is in color?"

"Yes. Your hoodie is purple and black, nothing like how I dreamed of it."

"Your eyes are blue."

"My dad always said they were. Yours are brown."

"Yeah, Nana always said she loved my eyes and hoped I'd see them someday."

"Why am I alive?"

Virgil shrugged, "miracle?"

After a long back and forth, Virgil and Logan came to the conclusion that Logan had indeed died that night but somehow had been brought back.

Virgil described how he'd tried to use his gift on Logan before midnight, how he'd broken down and cried over his soulmate for most of the night. Virgil vaguely remembered the kiss and whispered confession.

"That's it, your gift worked on me because I was dead. I wasn't spiritually present so you were physically able to bring me back and the soul followed," Logan's eyes were aflame with the complexity of the situation.

"Promise this isn't a dream?" Virgil sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Logan’s hand.

"I promise," Logan took his hand. It felt warm and good and solid and real.

Because it was real. Logan was real. He was here. To stay.

This is the story of how I died. Thank the stars I didn't stay dead.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[seokoloqy]

Guilty / kth

Genre: angst?

Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N

Warning: major character death

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Taehyung is in trouble, and he needs you to help him.

A/N: I wrote this at 11 PM yesterday while bopping along to S.O.S by the Jonas Brothers. Whoops. I did not edit this. Sorry if it sounds weird and too fast paced. 

Taehyung was your longest kept secret. He was a murderer, but you could never part with him. He was a secret you could never keep.

The day he came to you for help, begging on his knees with blood on his hands, you knew you should have turned him away. You should have given him up and rid yourself of the trouble he was worth the second you laid eyes on him. Instead, you welcomed him into your home, snuck him past your occupied family, and dragged him into the basement. It was the only reasonable place to keep him. Your nosy parents would demand answers if they ever saw Taehyung bloodied and sitting on your bed. There were only crates filled with old, family antiques no one cared for anymore and aged wine in the basement.

“Who did this to you?” You worried, pressing your cold fingers to his bloodied cheek. You wiped away the fresh blood splatter with your thumb to reveal no wounds underneath. Your breath caught in your throat and he looked at you with desperation. If he wasn’t hurt then where did the blood come from? You could only assume the worst of your best friend. The temperature in the room fell as a chill ran up your spine and fear crept up behind you.

“Please, Y/N, you have to help me. I couldn’t stop myself this time.” He cried out, grabbing your hands. His blood covered hands stained yours as he held on tighter, refusing to let go. You were his best friend and he was trusting you to save him.

Ripping your hands away, you say, “What are you talking about?”

“H-He did it again. He hurt her again and I couldn’t help it. I-I was so angry and I just grabbed the bottle…” He fell to his knees weakly and sobbed into your shirt. The river of tears kept falling as he struggled to get the rest of his confession out. “I killed him, Y/N, I killed him. He begged me not to do it and I just looked at him with a blank face. I felt nothing.”

You finally understood what had happened to Taehyung. His brother-in-law was dead because of him. You were glad that man was dead for the kind of abuse he put Taehyung’s sister through, but you were scared of what kind of consequences Taehyung would now have to pay. His brother-in-law was an important man and the man responsible for his death would have hell to pay. They would not stop until Taehyung was caught and punished.

You tried reassuring him by telling him everything would be alright, but you weren’t sure if that was to convince him or you.

After every meal, you snuck your leftovers into a napkin and brought them down where Taehyung would devour it as if he were dying. You remembered his starved expression the next several meals and began eating less yourself to save more for him. He took notice of your lack of energy and refused to eat until you had your fill.

“You should eat more. You’re getting pale.” He would mutter, pushing the napkin of leftovers back into your hands. You tried refusing saying he needed it more than you, but he was so insistent. “You shouldn’t starve because of me. I brought this on myself.”

“Don’t say that, Tae. Please just eat.” You repeated, trying to put the food back into his hands. He was paler and weaker than you. It hurt to see him that way but the guilt of what he had done weighed down on him, crushing him until he could not bear to help himself.

“No.” He said. And that was the end of the conversation.

Weeks passed and he was getting restless and frustrated, having not seen the light of day ever since he arrived. He hadn’t been sleeping either, admitting to you he stayed awake unable to sleep from his haunting nightmares. He often paced between the four, cramped walls of the basement and began rummaging through your family’s collection of China to calm the uneasy feeling he kept. You would constantly remind him that the police aren’t letting up in the search for him. They scoured through town, hanging up posters and questioning people. They had even stopped you on the way home to ask if you had seen him recently because he was known to hang around your house with you. You lied through your teeth to the officer and ran home while taking quick glances behind you in case they were following you. The stress of his ordeal had caused you to become paranoid. It seemed like everyone was watching you and would catch on eventually.

“Why can’t I just go out at night! I’ll be fine!” He argued and you tried silencing him, your family was asleep and anyone of them could come and investigate the strange noise in the basement.

“Please keep your voice down, Taehyung.”

“I can’t stay here anymore. I have to go.” He declared, ripping the door open and walking out into the darkness. You choose not to chase after him. Maybe he would feel better after a bit of fresh air.

You worried about him that night. Tossing and turning in your bed wouldn’t help anyone and going out to look for him would be foolish. Anyone walking late at night would certainly be questioned and you were on the verge of spilling your guts out to the police. Hours passed and the sun was rising over the sea, emitting a soft yellow glow from your window. You were still staring at your ceiling in wonder. How long could you keep up the lies? When would Taehyung be safe to go? What if you slipped up and he’s gone forever?

There was a tap on your window as you wondered and at first you were startled, but seeing Taehyung waving at you through the window calmed you. You scrambled from bed to let him in.

He crawled through the window and settled himself on the floor. You tried asking him where he’d been but he shushed you before you could finish questioning him. He told you he was tired and it didn’t matter anyway. You watched him try to find a comfortable position on the wood floor and feeling bold from lack of sleep, you invited him to bed with you. You could see the rising blush on his face as he stared at you with horror. But the circles under his eyes and hard floor forced him to agree and he climbed into bed.

You both stayed at opposite ends of the bed facing opposite ends of the wall, fearing accidental touches and awkward apologies. You were still restless with him in your bed, you fiddled with your sheets and willed yourself to sleep. You assumed Taehyung couldn’t sleep either as you felt him shift towards you. The bed dipped behind you and a warm arm snaked its way around your waist. You said nothing and he replied with silence. You were okay with it. All those nights you spent carelessly dreaming about him with you were a fantasy coming true. His breath tickled the back of your neck as you curled yourself to fit perfectly against him. You let yourself drift asleep, listening to the sound of his rapidly beating heart.

This became a routine. At night when everyone was sound asleep, you would bring him to your room and you would fall asleep in each other’s arms peacefully. You felt safer, knowing he was close to you. You believed as long as he was next to you he wouldn’t disappear. You spoke in soft whispers about nothing just to pass the time with each other until someone fell asleep. Before the sun rose, Taehyung would slip away to the basement once again.

Staying up all those nights with him brought you to the conclusion that one day he would have to leave, either by force or because there was no life to live trapped under your house. You convinced yourself that when that day comes, you would be ready to let him go.

On the day he left you for good you woke up screaming. The door to your room had burst open and your brother, Jimin, barreled into the room with his lips set in a snarl as he lunged for Taehyung. He grabbed Taehyung by the collar and threw him off your bed onto the floor and began punching and yelling.

“You son of a bitch! What are you doing with my sister!” He hollered, relentlessly throwing punches across Taehyung’s bloodied face. You ran to Taehyung’s defense, trying to throw your brother off to no avail. Jimin’s violence only increased as you cried for him to stop. Your mother and father came in after, wondering what the commotion was about.

“Jimin, what are you doing!” Your mother yelled, pushing your father forward to pull Jimin away. She covered her eyes at the sight of Jimin’s bloody knuckles and the strangers bruised face. You rushed to Taehyung despite his haggard features. Jimin had his hands wrapped in Taehyung’s dark hair and forced his head up.

Your mother dragged you away from tending to Taehyung with a shriek. “That is the boy from the posters! Stay away from him, Y/N.”

Jimin looked at you, disappointed, and turned an accusatory finger to Taehyung. “What the hell was he doing to you?”

“Nothing, I swear!” It was the truth, for once. You never imagined your family would ever find out.

Your father came forward, staring at Taehyung for a while. You could see the wheels turning in his mind. Taehyung was worth a lot and his capture would be rewarded handsomely. You often overheard your father drunkenly confessing how badly the family business was doing. There was no doubt he had already made up his mind about Taehyung.

“Bring him to town, Jimin.”

“No!” You broke away from your mother and shoved Jimin away from Taehyung. “You can’t turn him in! Please!”

“Why not?” Jimin asked, crossing his arms. His eyes never left Taehyung’s bruised face.

You struggled to find an answer. Why were you doing this? You were protecting him and defending him from what was bound to happen in the end. You said you would be ready to let him go when the time came, but now that it has you couldn’t do it.

Taehyung managed to cough out the words, “It’s okay. Let me go.”

For some reason his calm smile and reassuring voice allowed you to let him walk through your doors one last time. You never went to his hearing because you knew what they’d do to him. He would talk about his death so casually.

“They will probably kill me once they find me.” He would laugh, twirling your hair around his finger. His responses were what made you even more determined to keep him safe.

You heard around town afterward what had become of him.

“They killed that bastard too quickly if you ask me.”

“Oh, they hung him the second they laid eyes on him.”

“He didn’t even apologize for murdering that innocent man.”

“His neck snapped as soon as he went down. He didn’t even get to suffer.”

“Why would a little girl like you want to know something like that? Did you know him?”