#but like i’m so sorry yunho is prime soulmates fic fodder

[honeyhotteoks]

i genuinely can't stop thinking about yunho as a fallen angel... like...

yunho’s catholic confirmation name is stefano, which is i believe a reference to saint stephen. saint stephen is the patron saint of several different things, but the one that caught my eye was the patron saint of coffin makers. ive had that knowledge churning around in my brain for a long time, especially after watching the kdrama doom at your service, but after seeing these pictures my mind is absolutely spinning with fallen angel soulmate yunho brain rot……… so come along with me

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fallen angel yunho. he's been wandering the earth for years, passing through life and people and history and he's never known the reason that he was cast out until he meets her, you. he hears you first, a distant voice in the back of his mind, a prayer to his saintly name, a name he hasn't heard in what feels like a millennia. a whisper to saint stephen, the man he used to be, many years and many bodies ago.

no one prays to him anymore, not really. certainly not a voice like yours, ringing clearly and angrily in his ear, a bitter request for a coffin to be ready in early spring. he thinks about the way it's almost winter now, the air turning crisp, and he wonders what in your life has you so angry and yet so practical about death.

he thinks of you for days, weeks, idlily waiting to hear the voice again. he dreams of it, sometimes wakes from a stone sleep to your bitter tenor, the clear catch of tears in your throat, but it's always a memory. he finds himself wandering the city for you, searching through churches, reverent houses of worship that you might be hiding away in. he doesn't expect to find your voice ringing out clear as day across the crowded room of a museum, full of life and joy and the picture of health.

he finds a way to speak to you, he's practiced in the art of conversation, of seduction even when the end goal isn't sex. he just wants to know you, to hear your pretty prayer in person, to understand your voice just a little and why in the world you were praying to him and not god himself like everyone else. in the midst of many, he makes a space for you both alone, the connection and the pull immediate and essential.

for a while, you make him smile, laugh, relax, he feels more at ease and more like a person than he ever would have expected. he doesn't understand you or your prayer though, not until you cough painfully, fitfully into your sleeve and he sees the bright kiss of blood at the corner of your lips. he never imagined you sick, but he supposes it makes sense. in all the versions of meeting you he imagined, this outcome wasn’t one he ever entertained.

he's never watched someone he's loved die before, at least not since his first life, and shamefully he barely remembers the names of his family from then. but somehow he knows he'll remember yours, the way he aches is altogether new and even though he knows it would be better to watch over you from afar, he just can't. and it doesn't help that you keeps finding your way to him around every corner of the city, coincidence after coincidence. so easy to joke about how it must be fate when it is in fact fate, pulling you tightly together and tying the knot tight.

he allows himself to love you then, and you allow yourself one last, good thing. he never lies about who and what he is, and you never really believe him, for all you know he's just a figment of your imagination. a hallucination from one of your tumors like the doctor warned you about. you think if cancer can give you one gift before dying, at least it's him.

for a little while yunho thinks his purpose in falling from grace was to love you, after all you prayed to him, no matter how bitterly. but he understands the truth the moment he meets your daughter, the moment he realizes his purpose for you is much more than momentary, final happiness.

and so he carries you forward through those final months, easing your pain and your giving you one last chance at real, lasting love. and he helps ease you into the other side, his promises whispered tearfully into your hair, that he'll see you again but only after he stays by her side. your child's own guardian angel, happy to watch over her and guide her until it's her time to come home too.

and of course, that means he has to wait. you both do, but he's already waited, even when he didn't know what he was waiting for.