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runariya · 17 days

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My Beloved Villain (JJK) • Chapter 6

pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: DDDNE, foul language, denial, a little bit of fluff, drugging, detailed description of r@pe, blo0d, gore, punch!ng, carving, cum, anger issues, shur!ken, kick!ng, f!ghting, realisation, wishing of being d€ad, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4.2K

a/n: pls don't hate me—hate the characters instead 🙂

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • masterlist • 07

Two weeks go by, and with each passing day, you find yourself and Jungkook drawing nearer, though you had always believed, in the depth of your long friendship, that there was no further closeness to be gained. Yet still, there you are, sharing not just your days but, more often than not, your nights as well. There’s a certain way in which time fades into insignificance when you’re together, and though the light of day holds nearly no barriers for the way he maps your body, it’s the cloak of night that allows you to strip down more than just all of your clothes—it is there, in that twilight intimacy, that you feel you might finally be able to touch the entirety of his soul and him yours. He rearranges you completely in those moments, a cartographer of your flesh and spirit alike.

Taehyung, on the other hand, has had that difficult conversation with you far too many times to count—each instance his eyes filled with that same uncertainty, the struggle not only on his face but yours too as he questions whether telling Jungkook the truth, baring your past and present alike, is truly the right course of action. You’ve known for a long time it isn’t fair to leave Jungkook in the dark, not when this darkness is part of who you are, tethered to you in ways you sometimes wish it weren’t. It’s not easy to admit that parts of you have been moulded by decisions you never wished to make, paths you walked out of necessity rather than real choice. You can almost see how Jungkook might listen, his usual patient, understanding self—but with every moment you imagine his reaction, you also see him turning away, running when the truth becomes too much to bear.

And so, though you know you can’t be selfish in love—especially not when it’s him—each time you try to tell him, the words seem to stick in your throat like glue. You’ve tried so many times, only to falter at the last moment, unable to bear the idea of that carefree, incandescent smile slipping from his face. So, you promise yourself that you’ll tell him tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Always tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow, each new day bringing with it a fresh round of procrastination and a fresh wave of guilt for the secrets you continue to withhold.

Gradually, you convince yourself that your relationship hasn’t yet reached the point where it can withstand such a confession, blinding yourself to the reality that the beginning of love is precisely when such truths should come to light. And yet, deep down, you know you’re deceiving yourself, creating a shelter of denial in which you hide from the storm that must eventually break.

At the same time, you’re beginning to sense that Jungkook too harbours his own secrets. There are nights when he quietly slips away, his reasons vague and evasive. He doesn’t share everything, and you’ve noticed it. Sometimes, he avoids your bed, though he never quite admits why, sidestepping your questions with a soft smile or a gentle touch. It’s something you don’t press him on—those absences leave you with the solitude you need to focus on the darkness you still carry and use to scheme, to map out your next move, like a chess player preparing for the final play that will topple the board eventually.

Those nights, while Jungkook is elsewhere, you roam the shadowed streets and buildings around Dojin’s office, gathering information about him, timing Sangwook’s weakest moments too, plotting when and how both will fall. And sometimes, on those nights, you catch a glimpse of Pulse, who never comes close, but you feel his eyes on you, the burning of his gaze a silent threat to dare make a move. He watches from a distance, still a spectre lingering on the edge of your plans, and his presence haunts you—his gaze lingers on your skin and mind since two weeks ago, like a thorn embedded too deeply to remove.

But when the nights are spent in Jungkook’s arms, curled against his warmth, the world feels different—quieter, almost safe. You listen to his soft, steady breathing as he sleeps beside you, utterly unaware of the poison bubbling inside you. Yet even then, as his embrace cocoons you, your mind remains restless. You lie awake, feeling torn between two worlds, wondering whether the path you’ve chosen is worth the price you might have to pay. Are you wasting precious time revenging your beloved parents? Or are you, in some twisted way, moving closer to the freedom you crave?

You let yourself dream, if only for a moment, that perhaps the happy ending is simply the softening of your being, the ability to remain gentle despite the rough hands life has dealt you. Perhaps it is a calm nervous system, a peacefulness that cannot be threatened. Perhaps the happy ending is you moving on with Jungkook by your side, where you finally reclaim the love you’ve lost, but always wanted back. Perhaps the happy ending is you embracing change, is you going in the direction of the person that grows you and moves you and magnitates your spirit.

But even as you entertain that hopeful vision, a darker force pulls you back. It wraps around you like it’s one with you, refusing to let go, as though with every step you take towards Jungkook, it drags you back three. For every word of love he whispers to you, a thousand doubts rise in your mind. Each time he brings you to the peak of ecstasy, it only pushes you deeper into a chasm you fear you’ll never climb out of.

The silence that followed Chulsoo’s death—the way it was wiped clean from the media, hidden from view so as not to tarnish Dojin’s image—only served to feed the fire of your revenge. That burning desire for justice, or perhaps just for release, is still there, gnawing at you like an unquenchable hunger of thousand starved demons. And so, despite everything, you find yourself returning to your plans, hoping that, in the end, they will finally give you the salvation and freedom to carve out the future you so desperately desire with Jungkook.

And now, two weeks later, it’s all set. Every piece has fallen into place. You called in a favour with one of Seokjin’s IT specialists, a man who owed you a debt for helping his daughter years ago with her SATs. It was a small thing back then, but now, that kindness has ripened into something vital, something almost fated. He fabricated a message, making it seem as though Dojin himself had ordered Sangwook into a night shift at the office. You thought long and hard about how to exact your revenge, and the answer came to you like a whisper in the dark—a plan perfectly devised to balance the scales that tipped over so many years ago.

So here you stand now, darkness flowing through your veins like it never has before, alive and pulsing and fatal. You’re in Dojin’s office, with Sangwook before you, drugged and unconscious in the chair, his head lolling to one side, bound by the anaesthetic you pilfered from the lab days ago. Everything is ready—the second scene has been set. And the only question that remains is whether, when the final scene comes to an end and all is said and done, will the path truly be cleared for the future you dream of with Jungkook by your side. But you lock that thought away, deliberately procrastinating again until your demon screams ‘action’.

Sangwook hovers in the haze of barely held consciousness when your boot collides with his side, sending him sprawling to the floor with a graceless thud. His face catches the weight of the fall, and though a pained groan escapes him, you find yourself devoid of sympathy, feeling nothing but the cold resolve that fills the room like silent smoke. The office is as barren as you anticipated, a hollow shell of corporate sterility, its emptiness bearing silent witness to the reckoning about to unfold, a ghost of a place where no one will hear the echoes of what you are about to do.

“You know,” you murmur, your voice a dangerous lull that barely masks the venom beneath, “I saw you smiling while he raped her. Perhaps it’s time you discovered how it feels to be on the other side, hm?” You crouch beside him, your fingers ghosting over his cheek, now wet with drool and slack with stupor. His eyes, bleary and unfocused, swim beneath heavy lids, his breath a sickly rasp that rises and falls in broken stutters.

You kick him again, flipping him from his side to his stomach with the ease of someone handling dead weight. His groans are quieter now, more distant, but you pay them no mind. You’ve come prepared for this moment, the cable ties rigid in your hands as you bind his wrists behind him, securing them with an efficient brutality. Once the ties are tight enough, cutting into his skin with a satisfying snap, you shift his body once more, forcing his hips up so that he kneels with his face pressed into the cold, indifferent floor, his knees scraping against it with a dull sound.

With a nudge of your foot, you spread his legs apart, widening the space between them as you reach into your hidden pocket and retrieve one of your shuriken. The blade gleams faintly in the low light as you slice through the fabric of his trousers and boxers, leaving his exposed ass an ugly, vulnerable thing that turns your stomach. You swallow the disgust, pushing it down, focusing instead on the cold fury that hums inside you like a living thing.

From another concealed pocket, you pull out an oversized black vibrator, letting it dangle in the air between your fingers like a grotesque trophy. You wave it lazily in front of Sangwook’s face, his glazed eyes flickering with some faint recognition. “Oh no,” you say, voice dripping with a mocking faux-innocence, “I think I forgot the lube.” You pout, a cruel smile twisting your lips that aren’t hidden by your mask. “Looks like history repeats itself more than I thought.”

You move back behind him, your heart beating calmly despite the anticipation of what you have prepared next. And with a force born of all the pent-up rage you’ve carried for so long, you ram the vibrator into his exposed asshole, not bothering with gentleness or care.

The effect is immediate—Sangwook’s scream tears through the silence of the office, a visceral sound that cuts through the fog of drugs clouding his mind. His body convulses, buckling against the intrusion, but you press your hands into his hips, forcing him to remain in position as you reach for the duct tape from your pocket, securing the vibrator firmly in place. His flesh resists, bleeding around the object, the blood flowing freely, but you push it deeper still, the tape tightening until you’re certain it won’t budge.

The blood, the pain, his broken sobs—all of it comes together to create an image that stirs something dark and primal within you, something that has long been caged but now finally feels liberated. His pitiful sounds mirror the cries you remember, the cries that haunt you from this distant, unbearable night, and for the first time in so long, you feel a strange, twisted sense of peace begin to settle inside you. It’s a perverse kind of satisfaction, seeing him brought low, powerless, humiliated. His sobs fill the room like symphony meant for masses, and with every tear that falls from his face, with every tremor that wracks his body, you feel your breath coming a little easier, feel that demon within you finally soothe itself into something manageable.

You stand back, watching with a detached sense of curiosity as snot and tears pool beneath Sangwook’s face, mixing with the blood that drips steadily from his ass. His humiliation is complete—the blood, the shame, even his unwanted orgasm staining the floor beneath him, the fluids mingling into a sickening mess. He can barely withstand it anymore, and you sense that his endurance is nearing its end, the agony almost enough to make him pass out. Almost.

You step forward and rip the vibrator free from his body with a vicious yank, taking the duct tape with it, peeling away skin and hair in the process. The sound is gruesome, the ripping noise followed by another hoarse scream from Sangwook, his head lolling against the floor. The satisfaction swells inside you, filling the space in your chest that has long been empty, and for a brief, shimmering moment, it feels as though you’ve finally taken something back from the world that once stole everything from you.

But this isn’t the end—not yet. You can’t let this be another act buried by Dojin’s power, another silenced death hidden from the eyes of the world. So you push Sangwook’s slack body back onto the chair, his head rolling from side to side in drugged disorientation. You calculate the dose just right, ensuring that though his body is weakened, his mind remains painfully clear, aware of every agonising second.

“It felt good, didn’t it?” you mock, your laughter low and dripping with menace. You step closer, forcing his face upward until his dulled, tear-filled eyes meet your own, your gaze lifeless as steel. “You remember what happened after, don’t you?” His silence is met with a sneer as you push his face aside and reach for your shuriken once more, the blade glinting in your hand as you rip open his shirt, exposing the heaving rise and fall of his chest, every breath laboured and uneven. Blood still pours from the wounds you’ve already inflicted, but you don’t care. “But first, let me leave a note, yeah?” The blade hovers for a moment over his skin before you press it against him, carving deep, big letters into his chest with more force than necessary.

‘Father, don’t forgive them, for they know what they do.’

The blood spills over your writing, cascading down his body in thick rivulets, pooling once again on the floor beneath him, mingling with the other stains of his disgrace. You step back and admire your handiwork, feeling an odd, almost surreal sense of fulfilment as you gaze upon the wreckage you’ve created.

It feels like freedom—like the release you’ve been chasing for years. You don’t care if anyone else understands it, don’t care if Jungkook would understand. In this moment, the world shrinks to this room, to this man, to this beautifully orchestrated vengeance. And for the first time, you feel as though this is the right path, the only path that could ever set you free. You toss the bloodied shuriken to the ground with a resounding clang, the sound echoing in the hollow space like a final punctuation to this violent symphony.

And then, you strike—fist meeting flesh again and again, until Sangwook’s face is nothing but a pulpy mess of blood and bone beneath your knuckles. Each punch sends a wave of release through you, every hit drawing out the grief that’s lain dormant inside you for so long. Tears blur your vision, and you let them fall, unheeded, as you continue to rain down blow after blow, releasing years of pain in a single, savage outpouring.

But suddenly, the sound of faint movement is heard through your frenzy, and your instinct kicks in. You spin on your heel and release a shuriken in one fluid motion, sending it hurtling towards the intruder behind you. It misses its mark by a hair’s breadth, embedding itself into the wall beside Pulse’s head. He stands there, watching, his eyes wide with shock, his expression stricken. But despite everything, despite the violence, despite the blood, his gaze remains—soft, empathetic, as though he can still see something within you worth saving.

“What the hell do you want?” you scream, voice raw, feeling too close to madness, eyes narrowing at the sight of him standing there, his presence alone an irritant to your senses. The sight of Pulse—of this man, this moron—makes your blood boil with a heat that consumes every rational thought, every shred of patience you might’ve had left.

“You can still stop Stasis,” he says softly, his words slipping through the chaos like a breeze through fire, and there’s something infuriatingly calm in his tone that makes your fists curl tighter. “It’s not too late.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, voice dripping with venom, “I don’t have time for your bullshit.” You spin back to Sangwook, channeling the surge of anger into your fists, striking him again—he groans, barely a sound escaping his bloodied lips, but it’s enough to quell the fire in your veins, if only for a fleeting moment.

“This isn’t the right way,” Pulse insists, his voice still thick with that maddening compassion, that softness you cannot bear to listen to any longer.

“Oh, fuck off!” you spit, turning back towards him, seething. “What the hell do you know about anything?”

“I don’t need to know everything,” he replies, his voice unwavering. “I only need to know that it’s not too late.”

“Not too late?!” you bark, flinging your arms into the air, exasperation dripping from every word. “Do you even hear yourself? Don’t waste my fucking time with this fuckery—go fetch some petty pickpockets if you’re feeling heroic.”

You start to turn away, fed up, ready to pour all your anger back into Sangwook’s trembling body, but Pulse’s voice hooks you mid-step, tugging at something inside you, and despite yourself knowing better, you pause, facing Pulse once more. He stands there, almost pleading with you, a figure so at odds with the carnage around him. “I can help you,” he says, voice much gentler now. “You don’t have to do this.”

A low, biting laugh slips from your throat, raw and empty, more like the growl of something wounded than the echo of any true amusement. “Help me?” you sneer, the corners of your mouth twisting into a cruel smile. “Oh, I’m doing just fine helping myself.”

“That’s not helping,” he says quietly, and there’s a softness to his words that feels like nails on a chalkboard, like he’s trying to pierce through the layers of darkness that have long since engulfed you. “If you could just—”

But you don’t let him finish. You spin around again, but this time something’s different. Something cold and sharp slashes through the air in your mind, halting you in your tracks. Sangwook sits still, the rise and fall of his chest no longer there, his eyes now glassy and fixed on nothing. It’s as though the world shifts beneath your feet. His wounds, they’ve finally claimed him, and you missed it—the exact moment when life left him, when that miserable soul slipped away.

“He’s dead,” you whisper, though the words are nothing more than a breath, laced with an anger so potent it seethes from your pores. The demon inside you roars with a feral intensity, its presence so loud, so overwhelming, you reckon the entire city must hear it. But your blood, it doesn’t run cold—not in the way people speak of fear or regret. No, your blood burns hotter than ever before, an inferno raging through your veins, pushing you beyond the boundaries of reason, of sanity, into a space where you never been before.

“He’s dead!” you shout, the fury shaking your body and walls, vibrating through every nerve as you reach for your shuriken. One after another, you hurl them towards Pulse with reckless, unrestrained violence, each throw fuelled by the white-hot rage that blinds you to everything else but this freak standing before you. Most of them miss, slicing through the air uselessly, but one grazes his side, drawing blood and a sharp hiss from his lips. You see the pain flash in his eyes, but it’s not enough. “You fucking idiot!” you scream, voice cracking under the weight of your fury. “You had to ruin everything!”

You launch yourself at him, driven by that blinding fury, your body moving faster than your mind can comprehend. The force of your kick catches him squarely in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground, but Pulse—fuck him—manages to scramble back to his feet, dodging and deflecting every punch, every savage blow you aim at him and his stupid face. He’s skilled, a professional, and you can see that now in the way he moves with ease, with a calm that only makes the inferno within you rage hotter, more fiercely.

You land a hit against his face, a sharp crack against his cheekbone, and for a moment, his composure slips. His eyes narrow, the warmth in them replaced by a cold anger, a frustrated irritation that mirrors your own. And then, for the first time, he strikes back. His fist connects with the side of your head that makes your vision blur for a moment, but that’s all it is—a moment. You recover quickly, shaking off the dizziness, your lips curling into a smug smirk as you catch the flicker of disbelief in his gaze.

“Jealous it didn’t faze me?” you taunt, your voice dripping with poison ready to take him down, your breath coming fast and shallow, though you force it to remain steady, to keep the superiority alive.

“As if,” he growls, his tone clipped, though there’s a flicker of frustration behind his words, a crack in that calm façade he wears so well.

The fight escalates, a brutal dance of fists and kicks, bodies slamming into walls and furniture bruising you both more than the actual hits. He throws you around like you weigh nothing, a mere doll, but you hit back with equal force, aiming for his weak spots with precision born from years of knowing where it hurts most. You’re both panting heavily now, bruised and bloodied, but where his strength begins to wane, your twisted advantage of feeling no pain holds firm.

“Give up Stasis,” Pulse gasps, his voice ragged with exhaustion, but still, there’s that damn plea in his tone, that maddening refusal to break.

“Never,” you spit, a wicked smile twisting your lips as you fling your last shuriken towards him. It grazes the edge of his face mask, slicing through the straps with a clean cut. The mask falls to the floor silently, in slow motion, leaving his face exposed to the dim, flickering light of the room.

And in that moment, the world stops last.

The air is sucked from your lungs as you stare at him, your heart plummeting into an abyss that you thought you’d already reached the bottom of. His face—his face is the face you know so well. A face you’ve kissed, a face you’ve held in your hands, a face that, until this moment, you believed belonged to someone pure, someone who hadn’t been touched by the darkness that now consumes you. Jungkook. It’s Jungkook standing before you, bruised, bloodied, and trying to stop you.

You take a step back, your limbs trembling with the force of the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but more than that, they tremble with the force of your breaking heart. “No,” you whisper, barely audible, the word slipping from your lips like a plea to the universe itself. But Jungkook doesn’t hear it, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t see the devastation in your eyes, the cracks forming in your soul as the reality of this nightmare sinks in.

“You’ve finally had enough, haven’t you?” he taunts, voice cold, cutting, as he steps towards you, uncaring that his mask has been stripped away. His steps are slow and menacing in a way you’ve never seen from him before.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t seem to make sense of the world anymore. Jungkook—your Jungkook, your friend, your lover, the man who filled your life with light and warmth for years—is standing here as Pulse, the man who’s tried to stop you, to save you, from the path you’ve chosen. It breaks you, fracturing the remaining parts of your soul, and for the first time since your parents died, you feel as though you’re drowning all over again.

There’s nothing left to do, nothing that could possibly fix this, fix you both, nothing that could make the universe undo its cruel joke. So you do the only thing you can think of and what you should have done years ago—you run. You turn and bolt, fleeing from this nightmare, desperate to escape the truth that has gutted you so deeply you wish you had died with your parents.

You run, hoping the darkness will swallow you whole before the pain can.

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • masterlist • 07

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! MBV-Game Part II:

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @jksusawife, @jayhoneybeecomb, @kookienooki, @hagridshaircare

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frownyalfred · 3 months

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i am on my hands and knees oh my GOD if u do write something on clark/one of the supes accidentally hurting one of the batkids by, yk, being a supe, id actually lose my shit in the best way possible. no pressure ofc, writing is hard and so is life, but pls know that u do have a (very captive) audience . i hope you're having a good day btw

Aghh, you know I really want to write it. But also I've been up since 4 am and work is killing me. I'm a big fan of writing grey scenarios where stuff happens but it's not on purpose, yet the humans still have to bear the brunt of powers.

I've always wanted to write a fic about the hidden costs of super powers Bruce covers up for the JL, but the last time I posted about that on here I got SO many angry messages about how OOC that was for Clark etc...which I totally acknowledge, it's just a what-if scenario. What if those powers caused accidents every now and then (highly likely in a more realistic/grounded AU) and Bruce tried to hide most of those costs in order to preserve the function of the team (also likely, depending on the severity of the accidents/injuries and if they could be avoided/trained away).

I think what I like about this idea (aside from the Damian or Tim & Bruce angst/hurtcomfort) is the fact that 1) it wasn't intentional 2) it's preventable 3) it's not something Supers think about routinely, because why would they? But Bruce trains his kids to be hyperconscious of it. Maybe even to the point of sacrificing themselves to a kickback of powers instead of letting civilians get hit by accident.

#anyway #words are beginning to blur so i'll shut up soon #asks #anon #batman #bruce wayne #dc #myfic #clark kent #batfamily #theresurrectionist #fic ideas

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ronancecats · 3 months

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pls tell me more abt hockey player robin and supportive sports wife nancy,

and literally if u want to just converse abt this idea and stuff i will grow a pair and message u bc i love this idea sm

Holy shit I love this au so bear with me. (And yes I would love to message with you about this cause the brain rot is real)

-so Robin plays for a fictional team called The Hawks in a fictional women's hockey league. Obviously, Nancy is a journalist but she focuses more on sports so she can watch Robin's games.

-Nancy supports Robin like crazy and she supports Nancy like crazy too. They love each other so much and are always so loud about it.

-Everytime Robin scores a goal she blows a kiss to Nancy or gives her heart hands. Nancy always blushes like crazy because everyone flips out (the fans love them)

-nancy starts genuinely enjoying hockey and watches the games with Robin, who explains to her what everything means, which makes her an even better journalist.

-Nancy always comes to the after parties and Robin keeps her on her arm the whole time and shows her off to her team.

-In hockey, fights happen all the time and Robin is no stranger to that. Nancy always scolds her after as she wraps Robin's knuckles up even though seeing Robin kick ass is really hot.

-speaking of, since Robin's an athlete, she has some muscles and Nancy is obsessed with them. (She always comes to each game early just so she can watch Robin warm up)

-also, that means they have an athlete salary AND a journalist salary so when Robin proposes, the ring is far from small.

-their pets all have many jerseys of Robin's number. (In my mind she's number 7 and The Hawks colors are gold and red.)

So those are all for now, but like I said I would love to message you about this au because it's one of my favorites I've come up with lol 😭

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance hockey au #request

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wonwoonlight · 2 years

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there’s not a single star in the sky | xu minghao & kim mingyu

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader // not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 12k

➝ notes, warnings: my sorry attempt of an angst <//3, it doesn't end badly i promise, curses, food, mentions of death, OC is trying to hold back her tears for like.. 80% of the fic, probably some grammatical errors and typos, not beta-ed D: i purposefully write some stuff vaguely. that's it, tell me if there's more!

➝ summary: he’s your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he’s not the one you’re going to spend your forever with?

or, alternatively:

Minghao was there to fill the space Mingyu left behind; but you'd never expected to what extent he was meant to do it for.

➝ A/N: it's late and i didn't mean this to be your bday fic but.. happy bday hao!! i'll shut up and say more at the end. pls enjoy and tell me what you thought!!

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건 the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마 is probably because it has traces of you [Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

When you first met Minghao, he was there to be your roommate.

It's been months since Mingyu left, almost a year, really, and as much as it still hurts and the thought wells up tears in your eyes, Jeonghan is right when he said it's time you need to pick up the pieces broken by the love of your life.

–the first step being moving out of the place you had bought together with him. Saying it hurts is starting to get repetitive at this point, but it really does and you have no idea how many times you’ve broken down crying the more you pack, your eyes red beyond measure and your chest physically aches that it’s hard to breathe.

The apartment is practically empty except for the furniture, nothing inside screams you or Mingyu anymore except for one single photograph and it sends you into a spiral of sadness that you can’t comprehend how to handle. Your eyes wander to the empty wall on top of the TV, already rid of photographs Mingyu had taken and decided to frame because “angel, this is a masterpiece!” like he didn’t say it everytime he decided to frame more pictures and hang them on the walls (mostly of you both together).

You close your eyes and exhale a deep breath at the memories, hating the way your lips still tremble at the thought of him, then gently wipe the tears lining up your eyes before they turn into yet another waterfall.

There’s only one big picture left on the wall, a photograph of a daffodil field you both had gone to two years ago and is easily the most beautiful place you’ve ever stepped your feet on. You insisted that the picture stays though Jeonghan said it’d be better to take everything down. But as much as you know his memories hurt you, you don’t want to erase him just because you’re struggling; that picture is the one Mingyu loved the most and you think it’s only right to let it be.

So it can guard your home once you’re no longer there.

Kim Mingyu is still the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in your life and you want to keep his memories with you no matter what.

“When is your cousin moving in?” Jeonghan asks as you put the last of your belongings. Most of your stuff is already in your new place, and while you couldn’t bear to sell the apartment, you heard from your mom that your cousin is looking for a place in your area because she’s starting university soon; so she’s going to move in and rent your place at least until she finishes her study.

You’re not that close with her, but know her well enough to know that she’s nice and isn’t the type to mess around. Which is good, because if you’re close with her then you’d be finding reasons to visit just to be in the apartment. This way, you know your place will be in good hands and, for now, that’s the only thing you can ask for.

“In two weeks. She’ll start moving her stuff next week though.” It’s weird to be talking about someone else living in a place where your love bloomed, but it’s really for the best and you understand that it’s getting more unhealthy for you if you continue your way of living the way you do. Even one year is already pushing it.

“You’re still moving tomorrow though, right?” your best friend nudges you, and you nod as you try to shrug the weight lingering on your chest. Your silence concerns him despite your nod, so Jeonghan takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“It’s okay, Han.” You smile weakly. As much as you want Jeonghan to hold you through the night because you know you’ll be crying, you want to spend your last night here by yourself. You want to cry one last time so you can let everything go. You want to bask in Mingyu’s memories, in his fading scent, and in the place where the love you shared with him grew the most.

And as you cry yourself to sleep that night in your empty bedroom, screaming for Mingyu’s name into your pillow again and again like it’d bring him back to you, you think you can feel his arms holding you once again the moment your consciousness gives up, almost like a dream you wish you never wake up from.

Your new roommate is perceptive and you’re not sure yet whether you like it or not.

“You look tired.” He smiles politely, though you can tell that the look in his eyes is closest to what you’d describe as pitiful.

Of course you look pitiful, you woke up with your head pounding due to your excessive crying the night before and you could barely open your eyes because of the very same reason.

“I was going to talk to you about rules and all that but I think that can wait.”

“Thank you,” you say without offering any reason, you don’t owe him any explanations anyway. “I just need some sleep though, can we talk about it later tonight?”

Minghao nods, the smile on his face so warm that your heart would probably skip a beat if not for your current predicament. You wince at the way your heart clenches, Mingyu’s name once again echoing in your head. Feeling heat creeping up against your neck, you reach up to touch the skin behind your ear, a habit you always do, something Mingyu teased you about since the time you went on your first date together.

Ah, fuck. You really should stop yourself from thinking about him too much.

“It must’ve been hard moving all that stuff. Have a good rest,” Minghao ushers you before you can say anything, which you thankfully nod at, and you immediately bolt to your new room before you embarrassingly cry in front of him out of nowhere.

You don’t need to know Minghao hears your cry because you didn’t close the door properly, his concerned eyes rooted to the floor as he closes the door for you, the soft click barely even a noise upon your heart silenced sobs.

It’s later that night that he sees you again, already fresh in new clothes and looking comparably better than earlier though your puffy eyes are a dead giveawa. Minghao has never been one to pry, but his heart is made to care for others and he’s trying hard not to ask if you’re okay, to pretend like the sound of you crying didn’t tug something in his heart.

Xu Minghao is born to care for those around him but he’s not sure why you crying hurts him this much when you’re practically a stranger renting the available room in his house.

“Want to order something?” He forces himself to say, wondering if he’s crossing any line; do you even have any intention to befriend him? He’s still not sure why you’re moving into his place, the most he has heard from you was you’re simply looking for a new environment, and Junhui, a mutual friend of the both of you, has only told him that you’re going through a lot so he might want to be careful overall.

When Minghao asks if there’s anything he should know out of concern, the older guy has simply said it’s not his story to tell and reminds him to be mindful if you’re ever visibly struggling in front of him.

“I was wondering what to eat for dinner. You can join me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, though.”

Unexpectedly, you send a soft smile his way with a nod, then make your way to sit on the single sofa next to him and hug the cushion on your lap. “Sure. What’s good around here?”

“Mmm. What do you feel like eating?” He turns to look at you, only to find your fingers playing with the skin near your ear as you purse your lips in thought. It’s the first time he has the chance to actually look at you, and he scolds himself for being a teenager when it pops into his mind how soft your skin looks followed by the question of how it’d feel under his touch.

“Anything’s fine except for pasta.”

“You don’t like pasta?”

“I do. I think they’re too heavy if we eat them now though.”

Minghao hums in agreement, but you say he can order whatever he feels like eating because you can eat just about anything as long as it’s not too creamy at the moment. “Surprise me,” you tell him, your voice a little too cheerful for someone who was crying a few hours ago. He tries to get it off his mind though, because it’s none of his business and you’re not even friends yet at this point.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him that much. Perhaps he’s been thinking about Junhui’s words too much, be careful and be mindful. As someone who’s used to catering to other’s feelings, Minghao finds it hard to stay still when he knows someone near him is struggling. It’s obvious from your body language though; the way you’re internally exhausted but are trying your best to look okay.

Maybe moving to his place is your first step to overcoming whatever you’re going through. Whatever it is, Minghao decides that’s where he should stop assuming and reminds himself once again that it’s none of his business.

“So,” he starts after ordering food. He figures he should at least talk about the house rules if there’s no other topic at hand. “I’m not very strict about rules, to be honest. Some of the rules I always tell people are just basic ones like: let me know if you’re going to have friends around, though I’m not too comfortable with anyone staying overnight, so just make sure to ask me first before you let anyone stay over; don’t be too loud; and let’s clean after ourselves? These apply to the both of us though, so I promise I’ll stand by them too.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod in agreement. He’s right. Those are basic rules, he’s just asking you to have manners and be aware that you’re living with someone else. But you can tell from his first impression alone that Minghao is the kinda person that’s considerate and proper. He didn’t ask for anything too personal when he first met you to talk about your possible coliving situation, and it was easy to tell that Minghao was just looking for someone that’s…, well, also proper.

He was just the right amount of friendly. You didn’t talk with him for that long that day, but you could tell that you both passed each other’s vibe check and you were glad when Minghao called a week later to say you’re welcome to move in anytime the month after if you’re still looking for a place to stay.

“I don’t have that many friends so you don’t have to worry.”

He chuckles at that, glad that you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. "We'll get along just fine then."

The silence after that is a bit awkward, though it's not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. You wonder if you're simply imagining Minghao's extra careful words and gestures or if he’s simply that type of person to begin with.

He does seem the type to be certain with his lines.

"You're home a lot, then?" He tries to stay on the housing topic, a very safe topic that hopefully wouldn't cross any line.

“Yeah. I really mostly go out when my friends invite me or if I want to take a walk, else I’m basically holed up in my room.” You shrug then return the question, though from the few times you dropped by the house when you moved your things over you can already tell that Minghao is about the same.

“Mmm. I enjoy both my time inside and outside,” he purses his lips in thoughts, a tilt of his head accompanying his words. “Depends on the day, I think. Sometimes I actively try to find places to try out, sometimes I’m happy to be in my studio and paint for the whole day.”

“You paint?” Your tone is more excited than you intend it to be, though it really makes sense because you notice there are a lot of paintings throughout the living room. And now you wonder if those are his own paintings, which Minghao shyly nods to, the sheepish smile on his face growing the more you sing praises to his talent. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to paint, you know? But my hands are not made for art so…”

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise.

Minghao brushes the mark near his collarbone, its jet black color reminding him of things he’d rather not remember anymore. It used to be so vibrant with color, then they bleed out at once one day, turning into such a dark black it contrasts against his skin.

There’s something else Junhui said that has been bothering him, something that he thinks is the main reason why he’s more attentive to you than anything.

‘I can’t say much. But if there’s anyone who understands her struggle, it might be you. Just… don’t push her, yeah?’

He’s not sure how close you are exactly with Junhui. But if the older guy is able to say that, he supposes you’re either closer than he’s assumed, or you’re related in more ways that he could imagine. You did find out he had an available room from Junhui.

It doesn’t feel right to go through yours or Junhui’s social media just for the sake of it. But, from what he remembers, you definitely don’t appear enough on Junhui’s account for you to be in his close circle. Plus, if you’re actually close, the older guy would’ve probably brought you to hang out with him a long time ago; Junhui likes to blend all of his friends, after all. So you’re probably a friend of a friend, or there’s a situation that Junhui happens to know.

Whatever it is, it bothers him. Are you struggling like he was?

Minghao bites his lip and grazes his soulmate mark again, why is he talking like he’s over it now? As much as he’s coping, said that he’s okay now because that's all he’s managed to be, he’s still far from acceptance.

He’s still far from making peace with it.

His eyes flicker to you again as you return and sit back down on the sofa. You force a perfect smile, one that would fool anyone into thinking you’re actually fine. Not him though, because if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s the emptiness in your eyes despite the way they turn into crescents. He’s practiced the same exact smile way too many times not to recognize it on others.

If there’s anything Minghao knows, it’s the eyes of people who are hurting.

And if there’s anything else he understands, it’s that they don’t always want to talk about it. That everyone hangs on differently and he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you cope and how you hurt.

So he does what he usually do: offer comfort in the subtlest way possible by change the topic.

“But, then again, it’s not for everyone,” he shrugs almost nonchalantly. If anyone else is in the room, he’s sure they would notice the way he’s blatantly staring at you in worry. But, fortunately for Minghao, there’s no one and you’re too busy calming yourself down to notice. “What do you do in your spare time?”

“Actually,” you shake your head like you’ve made a resolve, like you didn’t even hear his question. Your voice falters a little as you say your next words, but Minghao listens attentively as he pretends not to notice the quiver in your gaze. “I would like to try painting. I did it a long time ago but… maybe it’s time to try doing it again.”

“You sure?” he questions, something weird stirring in his heart at how determined you look. It’s most likely the romantic side in him; he’s always liked seeing people doing their best. There’s just something so beautiful about people who try, and he supposes it’s the fact that he knows the look in your eyes, recognizes a similar kind of pain reflected in them, then knowing that you’re doing your best to be okay again.

It’s almost like he’s seeing himself a few months back (has it really not been a year since he’s started to learn how to accept?), and while his heart warms at the fact that you’re trying, it makes him wonder if this was how people felt when they saw him before.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun,” you say vaguely, knowing that your tone itself sounds unsure. Still, you’re thankful that Minghao doesn’t say anything about it as he nods and says that he’d send you the address of a cafe that allows their customers to draw on a paper and turn the result into a keyring; that he thinks that would be casual enough for you to try and have fun because an actual painting studio might feel suffocating if you’re not into it

You falter at the mention of the familiar cafe, one that you haven’t gone to but remember Mingyu had mentioned before. You can probably still find its name and address somewhere on your phone, because Mingyu had insisted you make a list of places you should go together to, though you gave up updating it along the way

“It’s the one with a sloth mascot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you been?” Minghao bites his lip at the slight tremble of your lip, did he say something wrong again?

“No, actually.” You force a small smile, one that looks sad, if anything, and Minghao’s heart is so close to breaking that it’s almost stupid. Why is he so emotional today? You’re just his new roommate, for God’s sake. “But I… I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

A heavy silence envelopes the room after that; you, deep in your mind, and Minghao, unsure what to say. Considering Junhui’s words and the way he sees himself in you, he dares to jump into conclusion and wonders what could possibly happen to your soulmate for you to be this way; to be constantly in and out of your memory in the span of thirty minutes he’s been talking with you.

Did they leave you like his soulmate did? He winces at the thought of her, the urge to reach for his mark makes his fingers ball into fists. But he waves it away and, thankfully, the bell rings indicating the arrival of your food.

Fortunately, the food is enough distraction for you two. You hum in delight once Minghao opens the packaging of the food, the smell filling the room immediately that your stomach growls a little. You’re both more hungry than you thought also, because the food is gone faster than the time it takes to arrive, and the both of you wish each other good night after cleaning up.

You’re not exactly sleepy, but you’re mentally drained and you’re afraid at how many times you almost poured your struggle to Minghao. You don’t like crying in front of anyone but Jeonghan, don’t like the feeling of anyone looking at you in pity or even concern. You really don’t.

But there’s something about Xu Minghao that makes you feel okay about being vulnerable; something about him that makes you want to open your heart and serve all its content on a platter for him to see. Or perhaps you’re just more emotional because you’ve officially moved out of your place and it’s your first day in your new home.

You hope that’s really the case.

Because the first scenario scares you a little too much.

You don’t want to feel that way.

So you spend your night talking with Jeonghan until you fall asleep, talking about nothing and everything so you wouldn’t think of Mingyu or how easy it is to be off guard in front of Minghao.

You tell Jeonghan you want to go to the sloth cafe and he offers to come with you, his voice wavering when you mention you want to try painting.

You dream of Mingyu in front of an easel that night, painting a field of yellow flowers with a smile on his face and the stars in his eyes.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Minghao asks when he sees you all dressed up on the sofa, though the way you’re slumped against it makes him doubt his question. “Or did you just come back?”

You scrunch your nose at the question, then sit up and hug the cushion against your chest. “I meant to go to the sloth cafe today. But Jeonghan is suddenly called for a work emergency, so…”

The words come out before he thinks it thoroughly, and Minghao almost hits himself in the head once they escape his lips. “I can go with you if you want?”

Unexpectedly, your face lights up as your eyes meet his, making him a little taken aback at the enthusiasm.

You really do want to go there, but the thought of going there by yourself scares you a little but you know that if you don’t go now when you’ve made up your mind, you’ll push it back over and over again until eventually you decide you’d just not go.

“Will you, really?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind going with me.” Minghao shrugs. It’s too late to back out and he’s glad if he could help you one way or another. It’s been quite some time since he visited that cafe and he doesn’t have anything to do, anyway. At your nod, he asks again. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m free the whole day, if you don’t mind going today…” You trail off, feeling a little awkward if you’re being completely honest. It’s been two weeks since you’ve moved in, and while you’ve passed the awkward phase, you’re still not there yet when it comes to favors.

“Let me change real quick then.” He definitely didn’t expect you to say yes when he offered, but now that you’ve asked him… Might as well, right?

The ride to the cafe isn’t as awkward as you suppose it would be, the radio filling in the silence between the two of you when you’re not talking. Minghao asks if you have anything in mind you want to draw already, and you say you actually have no idea, that you want to see if there are any easy examples you can follow because you’re not gifted enough to draw anything by yourself.

“What about you?”

“Hmm… Any requests?”

You laugh at this, and then hum to yourself to see if there’s anything you’d like to see. For a second, you wonder if you’re crossing the line by asking him to draw for you in a way, but if it’s Minghao himself who asks, it should be okay, right?

“Flowers?” Your voice falters as you think of the last dream you have of Mingyu. Yellow flowers, wasn’t it?

You hear his smile before you see it, and when you turn to him curiously, Minghao offers you a nod and asks again if you have any flowers you prefer. But you don’t really know your flowers, so you tell him you want to see anything vibrant, that it’s up to him whatever flower exactly.

“Vibrant, huh?” You wonder if you imagined the slight curt in his tone, but Minghao nods once again and says he’ll see what he can do.

“You don’t have to, though!” You say, suddenly conscious that you’re making him draw something for you.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what to draw, anyway.” He grins to assure you, but you can tell that there’s something going on inside his head that you don’t dare to ask.

“Alright… But don’t feel bad if you want to draw something else, okay?” You manage to say, hoping that you don’t sound like you’re putting a distance between the two of you. Minghao changes the topic from then, and it’s not long until you find yourself arriving at the cafe.

It’s weird, what you’re feeling. You’re both afraid and excited, as art has always been something that you associate with Mingyu. You never do it with anyone else, or even by yourself, for that matter. Mingyu was the only reason you’re even interested in it, and you’re pretty sure you would never even try if it wasn’t for him.

And now you’re here. About to go to a cafe where you can draw at, a cafe you had promised Mingyu you’d go together with…

And now you’re here.

With someone else.

“Let’s go?” Minghao’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, something you’re incredibly thankful for because you’re just about to spiral into a hurricane of emotion otherwise.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting side by side with Minghao as the busy sound of the cafe fills the silence between you two. You straighten your back as you exhale a deep breath, the sound of it makes Minghao chuckle from beside you.

“What flower is that?” You glance at his drawing, intrigued by the amount of details Minghao pours into it despite not having any reference whatsoever. He’s drawing by memory, you assume, as you can’t see his phone anywhere near him, and now that you really look at his drawing, you think you’ve seen the flower before.

Minghao pauses before he answers you, his gaze fixated on the paper in front of him. “Forsythia.”

You hum as you take out your phone, looking up the flower to see pictures of them. It’s when you quietly mutter to yourself that Minghao turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees you admire the flowers.

“You know them?”

You shake your head, then close your phone and return to the paper in front of you. You’ve drawn nothing but the night sky, poorly drawn hills, and a few street lamps along the street. It’s nowhere near good drawing, but at least you can tell for sure that those objects are identifiable and that’s enough win for you.

Like going here trying to draw.

Like going here without shedding a tear even though your lips trembled when you step into the cafe.

That’s enough win for now.

“Can I ask something?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts, and when you nod, his voice is hesitant despite your okay. “Why… is it so dark?”

“What is?”

“Your drawing.”

Huh. Is it?

“Is there any reason you’re not drawing the moon or stars?”

You blink at the question, then look again at the night sky you’ve been drawing the past thirty minutes. The constellation mark behind your ear suddenly stings a little; have you come to hate astronomical objects so much that you end up drawing nothing but the sky without even realizing?

“It just… didn’t occur to me.” You offer him a small smile, your colored pencil hovering upon the night sky. “I can’t draw them now though, can I?”

He hums as he skims your drawing, then his eyes glance at the pack of colored pencils next to you.

“Yeah. It’d be hard to draw the moon because you’ve colored most of the night sky.” He nods and smiles your way, one that you return with a tilt of your head. “It’s okay though. It’s still pretty as it is. Some nights we can’t see the stars and the moon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, right?”

…Doesn’t really matter, huh? You bite your lip as you ponder over his words, your mark feels like it’s tingling behind your ear.

“Can I ask something too?” You say after some time, eyes still focused on the flower he’s drawing.

“Sure.”

“I notice there are a lot of flowers in your paintings back home. Is there a reason why you like painting flowers so much?” His movement pauses at your question, and, for a second, you wonder if you’re intruding. But Minghao answers before you can retract your question, his hand moves again to fill in the color in the petal.

“It’s my soulmate mark.” His tone is much too nonchalant for such a topic, but as much as Minghao can tell you’re hurting by the look of your eyes, you can also tell he’s hiding by the tightness in his voice.

It’s very subtle, but from your point of view, it can’t be anymore obvious that Minghao is also struggling, presumably about something along the same line as you. Soulmate isn’t a sensitive topic for most people, but now that you’ve seen him this way, you can tell at once that you both share the same reluctance towards the issue.

At least it’s also clear that he’s coping far better than you are. Whatever’s happened between him and his soulmate, you hope it’s not as bad as what befell you.

“You wouldn’t know which one though,” he jokes to divert the topic. It’s more for your sake than it is for him, you feel like. He probably knows you’re not sure what to comment on that.

“I’m sure they’re pretty either way.” You comment vaguely, suddenly itching to touch the constellation behind your ear. You hesitate before you continue, unsure if it’s okay to bring it up again, but you also feel bad and you let your feelings override yourself for once. “I’m sorry I made you draw flowers.”

Minghao completely stops at that, and even though you’re not sure what you were expecting, you surely didn’t expect amusement clouding his face when you meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry though?”

“Just felt like I needed to apologize.” You shrug, your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue. “Seems like it’s personal to you.”

“It’s fine. Like you said, I do paint a lot of flowers.” His smile is genuine, and you’re glad that he really does sound amused if anything.

Your conversation shifts from there, the two of you swift through light-hearted topics as you finish your drawings. You watch as the staff turn your drawing into an acrylic key ring, a happy smile on your face as you look at the result in your hand.

It’s definitely much better than you expected, and you think it’s good that you went with Minghao because, had it been Jeonghan, you would’ve cried thinking about Mingyu the whole time. You’re glad you went with your roommate, someone between a stranger and a friend, someone that you need to be careful with but close enough that it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yours is so pretty…” You mutter in fascination as you peek at Minghao’s, happy to take the key ring from him when he asks if you want to look closely.

“You can take it.” He says with the entirety of his heart, the grin on his face painted with pride. It’s one thing to have people sing praises to his work, but it’s another story altogether when he sees someone like you who looks at his creation like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. When you ask if he’s sure you can have it like it doesn’t make sense for him to just give it away, he chuckles and nods. “You look like you’d appreciate it. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you!” You clutch the keyring between your palms, telling him you’d take good care of it. “I’d offer you mine but…”

“I’ll take it.” He offers you his palm, and then chuckles some more when you ask again if he’s sure about his choice. “You doubt me a lot, huh?”

“It’s just… Mine isn’t as pretty though.” You scrunch your nose as you hand him your result. Yes, it’s better than you expected, but still…

“I saw how much effort you put into that.” He begins, his thumb caressing your keyring. “And I did say it looks pretty, no? I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

Whispering a small thank you, Minghao almost laughs at how shy you look at his compliment. He looks at the keyring again, a picture of street lamps beneath the night sky. Then his mind pictures your focused frown when you were drawing them, and then to the conversation he had with you almost two weeks ago about this very cafe; how you were holding back tears and how you had reacted when he brought up the cafe.

And now here you are, talking animatedly about how the experience has been much more fun than you expected it to be. And even though he did catch you spacing out from time to time, he notices how determined you are from the beginning. Determined to do what, he can only guess.

He thinks he’ll think of you now everytime he looks at the night sky.

He gazes at the keyring yet again, and then at you next to him.

He thinks he has never seen an effort so beautiful.

Mingyu loved seeing you with your hair up; a pony tail, a bun, anything that let him see your whole face and didn’t cover your soulmate mark if only a little. The location of your soulmate mark doesn’t really allow you a lot of hairstyles that won’t cover it, but if you have your hair up, you’d at least be able to see half of the constellation that stops just a little below your ear.

That said, you wear your hair down most of the time after he’s left, having developed a habit of hiding the black constellation scattered there. The most you’d do to your hair is to tie half of it, which doesn't happen a lot.

“I have a question.” Minghao says as he pours your empty glass of wine once again. Minghao was chilling by himself when you returned from the convenience store, and when you saw the wine bottle on the coffee table, you had been quick to ask if you could join his little routine.

“Shoot.” Undeniably, you’ve gotten closer with him the past few months. You hadn’t expected to find a friend when you first moved in, but Minghao clicks with you in ways you haven’t really clicked with others that you can easily say he’s one of your close friends now.

It’s different, what you have with him.

Jeonghan is your voice of reason as much as he is the devil’s advocate; he’d push and push and push but he also knows when to pull you back when necessary. He cares for you like a best friend and an older brother, having his own way to change between the two roles accordingly.

You’re not the closest with Lisa. She’s not the kind of friend you’d look for first when you need someone to talk to, but you only have good memories with her since high school and it’s always laughter filling your cheeks everytime you meet up with her. You trust her when it comes to it, and she’s a token of happy memories you keep in your life.

Mingyu… Mingyu is–was your soulmate. He understood you without you saying anything, he knew when to leave you alone and when to coax you into telling him what’s bothering you. He spoiled you like there’s no tomorrow, listened when your rambling didn’t make any sense, and held you in his arms on nights you didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’s loud with his affection, never hesitated to show you his love even though he knew you’re never insecure when it came to that.

But Minghao… he observes and hypothesizes. He’s calculated and he’s silent with his concern. He doesn’t always ask when he thinks something might be up, simply leaves you be and you’d find a cup of iced chocolate or an ice cream with a note that lets you know they belong to you the next day. He pretends he doesn’t know you’re crying even though you’re sure you look like a mess, he’d just ask if you want to eat something or if he should just order online.

You don’t have a lot of friends, but from the few that you have, Minghao is the most like you.

And now that you think about it, you somehow gravitate towards those much different that you are; people who are loud in the best way possible. Which is why your friendship with Minghao feels different in ways that you can’t really describe.

“Why do you never tie your hair?” You have expected Minghao to ask this question sooner, if you’re being honest, as you’re sure that he’s noticed this since before. You’ve caught him eyeing your long hair from time to time, mostly when you two are out and it’s hot outside while you stubbornly let your hair down for the sake of covering your ear.

“Does it bother you?” You ask while sipping on your wine. It’s your fourth glass already, and even though you’re not usually a fan of alcohol, there would be days like this when you just feel like letting loose and crave for some.

Minghao shakes his head and changes the song playing in the background, finding something softer than the jazz instrument he played earlier. It’s another lazy Saturday night for the two of you, and between liking to stay at home and your somewhat similar personality, it’s really not surprising how easy it was to be close to Minghao in the span of five months.

How could you not when the two of you almost always spend your days together, even more your weekends? Jeonghan would join you from time to time, or he’d drag you out and there would be days when Minghao also tags along.

So, really, it’s safe to say you’re with Xu Minghao almost 70% of the time except for the time when you’re at work.

“Not really. Just wondering because it looks hot to go around like that all the time.”

You hum as you contemplate your next words. You could’ve just brushed it off like you always do when people ask, but a part of you has finally arrived at a place where it wants to let him know about Mingyu even only a little.

After all, there are days when you share your pain with him. None of you really talk about it, but you’d both vaguely mention about sad romance from time to time; enough for the two of you to be almost sure that, yes, there’s something wrong about the soulmate situations upon you both.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system. Or perhaps it’s the dream you had of Mingyu last night, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

That’s probably why you feel like drinking today.

While moving in with Minghao proves to be a good step towards moving, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped crying when Mingyu appears in your dreams, which no longer happens quite often. There are still days when you’d read his old messages and stare at old pictures. When you’d open his Instagram account that’s no longer active and scroll through his aesthetically arranged feed.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still get choked up for obvious reasons.

At least he no longer resides in your mind on a daily basis, though the thought also weighs like a boulder upon your heart.

You… want to move on from him, but you also don’t.

The amount of love you hold for Mingyu is more than you think possible, it’s overwhelming and it’s a burden at times. You didn’t think you could love someone like you did Mingyu, soulmate or not.

You don’t mind though. Even though the love is heavy and you don’t think you can ever love anyone–anything as much as you love Mingyu, you don’t mind and you still want to do it.

You still want to do it now even if he’s no longer with you. Even if his scent has completely faded from every single belonging of his that you bring with you to your new place.

The fact that you’re actually getting used to a life without him hurts.

It hurts almost as much as the day you lost him.

It hurts because you’re close to forgetting how he even sounded if not for the hoard of videos of him in your phone.

Aren’t you supposed to be together forever? To hold each other every night and spend the rest of your life basking in each other’s warmth?

Aren’t you supposed to be soulmates? What the fuck went up there that decided you’re not going to have a happy ending with your soulmate?

You want to be okay without him.

You don't want to be okay without him.

Minghao’s concerned voice brings you out of your trance, and it’s only when you taste something salty in your lips that you realize you’ve been crying.

For all the time Minghao pretends he’s never noticed you crying, this can’t be one of them. Not when your tears come out of nowhere when you were spacing out for a few seconds upon his question. And when he asks in a hushed whisper whether you want him to hold you, you don’t even answer as you dive straight to his embrace, your tears refusing to stop now that you’re in someone’s arms.

He doesn’t seem to mind though and, for some reason, the way his arms gently circle around you makes you cry even harder. It’s such a contrast with Mingyu’s tight embrace, he always made sure to hug you hard, something to remind you that he’s there and you have him with you.

Minghao's hold is careful but sure, the way he hugs you is almost ticklish, like you’d break if he hugs you just a little too tight. Except for the few times you fell asleep on his shoulder upon movie nights, this is the first time you’ve ever been this physically close with Minghao.

You end up telling a gist of Mingyu that night, tying up your hair to show him your soulmate mark. If Minghao’s surprised at its color, he doesn’t show it, and it’s you who gasp in shock when he tugs the neckline of his shirt to show you his own blackened soulmate mark near his collarbone.

IMinghao starts talking first, as he figures it might be easier for you if you know he’s been through something along the same line. He never really likes talking about his soulmate, doesn’t really have any reason to do so either. But looking at you like this, it’s the urge to comfort you that overrides his usual reluctance.

If his pain can be anything other than pain… if it can even help someone in some way, perhaps it’d be better to share the story he’s been holding to himself.

“She left me for someone else.” You want to wipe the weak smile off his face, want to tell him that he doesn’t have to act like he’s okay because you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Minghao went through. “Said she found someone better and she doesn’t believe in soulmates. That we’re too different and believed the fact that we’re soulmates just proved that fate is nothing but stupid games.”

You know whatever words you offer him wouldn’t be enough.

You know.

You know because nothing anyone says would be enough to comfort you.

So you share him your pain, show him that he’s not alone and you know how it feels to be left behind.

The story you tell him is a very oversimplified version of the whole thing, that your soulmate is no longer with you and it’s still hard even though you’re coping. Though you do tell him that you did move into his house due to the same person.

Minghao’s gaze doesn’t falter as you tell him a very small part of your story, just enough to know you’re both hurting in the same way. That you’ve both lost the people who're supposed to be your destiny regardless of the reasons why. He doesn’t hesitate when he wipes your tears with his thumb, the look in his eyes is anything but pity.

Your lips still tremble despite your tears stopping, making it hard for you to continue talking even if you’re not sure how much you’re going to tell Minghao that night. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze falls to his lips the same time his eyes fall to yours. And when your eyes find each other a second later, you have no idea who makes the first move and how your lips end up upon his.

The kiss you share with him is soft; your lips upon his over and over again, your palms firmly planted on his shoulders as his stays on your waist. You have no idea either how long the kiss lasts for, but the kiss is sad as much as it is comforting, your fingers balling into fists as you grasp his shirt to get yourself together.

You wonder if Minghao can also taste the salty tears falling from your eyes upon his lips.

It’s him who pulls away first, and he doesn’t give you a chance to meet his eyes as he pushes you into the juncture of his neck and kisses the top of your head.

For the first time, Mingyu’s smile is sad when he appears in your dream.

He’s trying to tell you something, but there’s no sound coming out of his lips and your eyes are too blurry to make sense of his words. You’ve missed him so much, and you hate that he looks concerned when it’s been so long since you’ve dreamed of him.

You can still feel the fluttering warmth of Mingyu’s lips on your forehead when you wake up, only to find Minghao holding you to his chest as you both lay on the couch, his eyes closed and his protective arms firm around your figure.

You're not avoiding Minghao.

You've honestly just been plagued by the last dream you had of Mingyu that you’ve been a little dysfunctional for the past week. You haven’t got the chance to tell Jeonghan about the dream nor what went down that night, and you plan on telling him tonight in the comfort of your bedroom just in case you’d be crying again.

You’ve texted Minghao Jeonghan might be sleeping over that night, though he might also go home if he suddenly decides otherwise. You stare at your phone as you bite your lip, hating how you can even tell how awkward you two are even over texts.

[14:22] Hao, is it ok if Jeonghan stays the night? He might also suddenly decide to go home tho!!! I promise we’ll stay quiet

[18:45] Minghao 🍀: Sorry, I thought I replied already.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: And sure. You know I don’t mind Jeonghan.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: Thanks for the heads up.

Minghao doesn’t usually answer late, and it’s worrying you a little that it takes him almost four long hours to answer you. Isn’t he working from home today?

You really need to get back to your senses and fix whatever weird situation between you and your roommate. Though, truthfully, you know it’s just you making it weird because Minghao has been acting like usual. The smile he gave you when you both woke up in each other’s arms still haunts you among other things.

And while it’s true you’re not avoiding him, it’s also true you don’t know how to face him after that day.

“When’s Jeonghan picking you up?” Lisa snaps you out of your trance, sipping the last of her coffee. It’s been quite some time since you met up with her, and her text has come right when you need a happy distraction so you’re more than happy to accept the invitation and meet her after work, which is why your hang out with Jeonghan has been pushed accordingly.

It’s the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

“In a bit.” As usual, spending time with Lisa means having a good time. Usually, it’s followed by a good night sleep on your part, but as much as you love spending time with her, the thought of Mingyu, Minghao, and wanting to talk to Jeonghan about them clouds your mind to the point where you’re sure you won’t be having a good night sleep tonight. “He’s stuck in traffic.”

It’s about fifteen minutes later that Jeonghan comes in, and he sits down next to you to talk with Lisa for a bit before you part ways with her. You listen to him talk about work as he drives, offering your thoughts on the matters that you think would help.

When he pulls into Minghao's driveways you stop him from getting off the car, ripping the bandaid with one go because you don’t know how to do it otherwise.

“Me and Minghao kissed last week.”

Jeonghan looks at you wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“Just telling you now because I… well, there’s a chance Minghao might catch it if I tell you later.”

He stares at you in what you’d describe as worry, but before you can ask him to explain, he grabs your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “But you’re okay?”

“Somewhat.” You squeeze his hand back. “I’ll tell you everything after dinner.”

Surprisingly, Junhui’s voice greets you the moment you open the door. He’s speaking Chinese, your mind registers, and if his tone indicates anything, he’s upset and he’s nagging. You don’t see Minghao anywhere though, and you find Junhui by himself in the kitchen, hanging up on whoever’s on the other line before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Jun?”

“Oh. Hi. Want some soup?” He says like it’s normal that he’s here cooking without the owner of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Minghao’s down with a high fever.” He shakes his head as he stirs the soup in front of him. “He’s sleeping now.”

Minghao’s sick? Is that why you didn’t see him at all this morning? Why didn’t he tell you, though? You could’ve brought him something had you known.

“Can I… talk to you for a bit?” Junhui asks, his eyes flickering to Jeonghan behind you. The older guy seems to get the message, quickly leaving the kitchen and into the living room before you even answer. “Something happened between you and Hao, huh?”

For all it’s worth, you know Junhui has always been a protective friend. You’ve never been particularly close with him, but he’s close with Mingyu and you know what kinda person Junhui is courtesy of Mingyu’s words. He’s playful and he’s caring. Mingyu used to say Junhui isn’t the kind of person he would want to be enemies with, that he’s glad he’s friends with the older guy.

So to have him look at you with a piercing gaze, it’s hard for you not to deflate under his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. He didn’t either.” He starts, and then hesitates before he continues. “I… How are you?”

Your eyes prickle with tears at his question, because you know he’s not just asking about you in general. It’s there even if he doesn’t say it outright: how are you coping without Mingyu?

You try your best to blink the tears back, but fail when Junhui reaches out and pats your head. Your palm blocks the sob out of your mouth, and it’s when Junhui says his next words that your sobs turn into pathetic whimpers.

“Don’t think about it too much, okay? I know it’s hard without him. But if there’s anyone who can take care of you like he did… I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to take that chance.”

It’s hard to listen to him and not cry. Not when you know how close Junhui was with Mingyu. They’re not the bestest of friends, but were still close enough to spend nights drinking with each other to talk about life and the problems that came within.

Between all of Mingyu’s friends, you knew Junhui was one of the people he respected most.

“Mingyu used to say you always think about him before anything.” His voice trembles as he says it, and that’s when you realize you’ve only spoken about Mingyu once with him after the whole thing. As much as you’re hurting, you know they are too, to certain points. “But I think… I think it’s okay not to think of him first now. You don’t need to forget him. But try to think of yourself too, alright?”

You nod, not being able to say anything to that. While you haven’t actually dwelled on what you’re feeling for Minghao, it’s true that you’ve always stopped yourself from even thinking about it because of Mingyu. He’d come into your mind everytime Minghao does, and while it helps a little to know that at least you’ve both lost your soulmates, it’s still hard for you to think that you’d be replacing Mingyu somehow.

You don’t want to replace Mingyu.

You don’t want Minghao to be a rebound.

But is he, really?

“I’m not saying you have to decide now whether you want to give Minghao a try or not. But… you deserve another chance at happiness, okay? And whether it's with Minghao or not, I hope you'll take it when the chance presents itself to you.” He whispers softly.

It’d be a lie if you say you’ve never tried to think about Minghao in that light. Because you have, you have since that day you went to the cafe and drew with him. But Mingyu clouds your mind, and a part of you always feels like you’re betraying him and his memories if you even think about being with someone else.

“I promise Mingyu wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from a chance of another happiness.” You cry harder at this, palm still covering your mouth to stop your sob from echoing throughout the house. “I know it’s still hard to accept that Mingyu is no longer here. I know, trust me, I do. I lost my little brother too that day, and if it’s hard for me as a friend, I can only imagine how hard it is for you who lost your soulmate. But you can’t trap yourself in his memories forever, right?”

It’s then that you cry, cry, and cry.

It’s one thing to think to yourself that you’ve lost him, that he’s not with you anymore and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s another to hear it from someone else’s mouth right in front of your face.

It reminds you of that night a year and a half ago in the hospital, the words ringing in your head over and over again until it’s the only thing that echoes in your mind.

Mingyu is gone.

He’s gone and he’s not coming back to you.

He can’t come back to you.

No matter how much you’ve cried into your pillow and cursed at the gods to bring him back to you, it’s nothing but a futile attempt because he’s not here.

He’s no longer in this world and your heart still aches everytime you think about the fact that he’s dead and you can’t see him anymore.

What’s the use of having a soulmate if he’s going to leave you first out of nowhere?

What’s the use of having a soulmate when you couldn’t even do anything to protect him from the accident that took his life?

What the fuck is the use of having a soulmate if you’re not going to end up together with him for the rest of your life?

It’s then that Jeonghan rushes to the kitchen, immediately kneeling beside you on the floor because you don’t have any energy to even stand on your feet at this point. You don't even realize you're wailing, your palm doing nothing to help stopping your broken cry.

Jeonghan can't hear anything but your sobs since earlier, but he knows your talk with Junhui is long overdue, which is why he’s been holding himself back from barging in even though he’s been worried. But how can he stay still if he's heard you let out a loud cry followed by a thud?

Junhui follows and kneels next to you, patting your head once again as he wipes your tears to no avail.

“Think about it… okay?”

You’re spacing out as you lean on Jeonghan’s shoulder when Junhui knocks on your door. You’ve spent the last hour telling your best friend everything, from the way you’ve been suppressing your thoughts about Minghao to the talk with Junhui earlier. In a true Jeonghan style, he has offered you a piece of his mind followed by saying he agrees with Junhui though he doesn't fail to remind you to take your time thinking about it.

“Do you mind taking care of Minghao or do you want me to stay over?” It’s almost ten in the evening, you look at the clock on your wall, and you suppose Junhui is trying to figure out if he should go home now or not. “He gets a little needy when he’s sick but doesn’t say anything.”

You look at Jeonghan for some reason, and when he offers you nothing but raised eyebrows, you turn to Junhui and say you’d take care of Minghao for him.

“You sure?” He asks one more time. “I can just stay over if you don’t want to.”

Junhui chooses those words for a reason. He didn’t ask if you can do it, he makes sure to let you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to.

But you do. As much as you’re conflicted, you can’t deny the worry bubbling in your chest the moment you heard Minghao’s down with fever to the point where it's hard for him to even get out of bed.

“I’ll take care of him.” You say with a determined nod, your arm squeezing Jeonghan’s for support.

“Then I’ll trust you with him.” You’re probably looking too much into it. You have no idea if Minghao has confided Junhui in what’s transpired between the two of you, but his words seem to mean more to you regardless of his real intention.

“I’ll take you home then.” Jeonghan surprises you both, patting your cheek before he gently lets go of you. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be with tonight.”

It’s silent once the two went home, and you’re left on your own in the living room. You try to think about your talk with the two men, but your head pounds a little from all the crying. Your eyes are probably puffy too, though at least they’re not red and you probably just need to drink some water to help your headache.

You close your eyes and exhale as you lean your head back against the sofa head. Has it really been one and a half year since you lost Mingyu?

It's funny, grieving. You never really get over it, and as much as you claim you're okay and you've accepted that he's no longer with you, you know you'd never entirely accept that deep down in your heart.

Some days Mingyu doesn't cross your mind at all. Some days you can suddenly cry in between conversations because his name rings across your head for no apparent reason.

Time seems to be too fast and too slow when it comes to memories of Mingyu. You never really thought about finding a new romance before, if only because you live in a world where soulmates exist and Mingyu took your heart with him the moment he left this world.

It must be some sort of twisted fate too for you to find Minghao, another shattered soul whose soulmate left him by choice. As much as it hurt you to lose Mingyu the way you did, you couldn’t imagine how Minghao picked up the pieces of his broken heart because the person who’s supposed to be his forever left him for selfish reasons.

You can’t imagine how his heart can still be as pure as it is with the pain it went through.

While you don’t know yet what exactly went down, what you know for sure is how beautiful of a person Minghao is. He probably knows you’re struggling since the beginning. He’s been considerate in more ways than you could’ve imagined, in his own soft, subtle way to the point where you didn’t realize he’s taking care of you.

It took you quite some time to realize, but it makes sense because you can recognize the pain that flashes through his eyes too from time to time. As two owners of broken fate, it’s not surprising that you recognize one another.

The sound of the door creaking brings you back from your head, and you see Minghao looking a little lost when the door opens, probably wondering why the house is dark and quiet.

“Why are you out of bed?” You scold him softly as you make your way to him. You usher him back to bed, but Minghao insists his body hurts from laying down too much and he needs to stretch a little.

So you make him sit on the sofa instead, which he whines at because it’s not that different, but his heart softens at your concerned whine so he decides entertaining you shouldn’t be too bad even if he feels like walking around the house.

“Drink some water.” You hand him his usual mug, then plops beside him as your palm automatically reaches for his forehead, cheek, and then neck. Minghao doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, though he shivers at your touch because your palm is cold when it meets his skin. “Your fever has gone down, I think."

“Were you worried?” his voice asks softly. Almost hopeful, even. None of you bothers to turn on the lights, though the light peeking from the kitchen helps just enough for you two to see each other albeit dimly.

You think Minghao might be a little delirious, but Junhui did say Minghao gets needy when he’s sick, so you do the least you can do and decide to throw away all of your thoughts for the night. What matters right now is that he’s sick and you want to take care of him.

“I was. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” It’s funny the way you’re both talking like it’s a secret. Your soft voices barely heard throughout the house even though it’s loud enough just for the two of you.

Minghao shrugs, not offering you any explanation. But you see it in his eyes, in the way he hesitates and shakes his head. He probably didn’t think it was okay to tell you.

“Tell me next time, okay? Though it would be better if you don’t get sick again.”

He hums and it’s silent after that. Minghao turns to the window, looking at the dark night outside. “Did Junhui go home?”

“Yeah. I told him I’d take care of you.”

“Did you?” His voice gets even softer when he says this, both hopeful and afraid. But before you can say anything, he cuts you off and asks again. “And Jeonghan?”

“Took Junhui home.” You pause before you continue. Is it a good time to bring it up now? Would it be better to do it when you’re both awake and well? Listen to your heart, okay? It’s okay to put your guard down sometimes. Jeonghan’s words from earlier ring in your head. “Said that it’s not him I need to be with tonight.”

If he’s surprised, Minghao doesn’t show it. But his stare seems to pierce through the dark and you can’t find it in you to look away. Mingyu appears once again in your mind, but you try your best to suppress the thought before you find yourself deep into it.

“Is there anyone you need to be with tonight?”

“Mmh. Maybe.” You try to be nonchalant, very conscious of the way your heart is beating loudly against your chest. You look out the window before you start talking again, a pensive look on your face as you contemplate your words. “It’s weirdly dark tonight, huh?”

Minghao follows your sight and nods, waiting for you to say more. You gather your hair and move them to your right shoulder, and from where he’s at, he can see the black stars peeking behind your left ear.

“It’s Cassiopeia, my mark.” You start, your eyes still locked on the night sky. “I tried looking them up once, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to actually understand the story. Mingyu did though, and he’d pop up a quiz from time to time to see if there’s anything I retain from all the time he babbled about our identical marks.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, but his hand finds yours and he’s glad you don’t pull away, simply holds his hand tighter as if you’re looking for something to keep you going. His heart cracks at your weak smile, but he knows you have more to say and he’s more than willing to listen.

“I ended up liking them though; the celestial objects. The moon, the stars, planets, everything that’s up there in the sky. I found fascination in them and I’d find myself buying stuff with their patterns.”

Minghao can’t see you clearly because of the dark, but he imagines your eyes are watering up by the slight tremble of your voice.

“And then it stopped when Mingyu died. I don’t hate them, but it hurts to see them and… if you remember my drawing those months ago, I suppose that’s why my drawing was so dark even if I did it unconsciously.”

You pause to take a breath, your hand tightens around Minghao’s. “I think he took all the stars with him the night he left. That selfish jerk.”

His heart clenches painfully at your weak chuckle, at the way your hand reaches up to wipe your own tears, and at the way you take a deep breath in determination.

“But… But it’s okay even if we can’t see the stars, right?”

Minghao gapes at his own words from that day you drew together, words that he said without much thought but seems to hit you in ways that he would never imagine. He tightens his grip on you, and then pulls you to his shoulder before taking his turn to speak.

“You probably don’t recognize it. But forsythia is my soulmate mark.” He says as he caresses your knuckle, his mind taking him back to the exact day you referred to just seconds ago. “I knew it took a lot for you to be there. And even though I didn’t know exactly why, I could tell it was hard. But you pulled through and I thought I should do the same. So when you asked me to draw a flower, I knew I had to draw the most beautiful forsythia I could ever draw in my life.”

“I used to hate them, you know?” You can hear him smile even though you’re buried in his shoulder, his arm that has made its way around you pushes you more into himself. “But you saw that drawing like it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I saw you carrying around that keyring everyday and it’s… something. I’ve heard a lot of people compliment my works, but I’ve never seen someone appreciate it as much as you do. It wasn’t intentional, but I think you helped me get through it without even meaning to.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes, and for someone who claims you don’t find beauty in stars anymore, you almost want to dive into Minghao’s eyes that seem to twinkle with all the stars Mingyu took with him.

“Do you know what forsythia symbolizes?” You know he’s not expecting you to actually know, so you shake your head and urge him to continue. “Anticipation, apparently. Because they bloom in spring and signal the beginning of one. I’d like to interpret it as the flower of a new beginning.”

You almost cry again at what it implies; at what it can imply not only for him but for the two of you. Is it too early to jump into that? Is it too fast? Weren’t you just crying about Mingyu hours ago?

“We don’t have to figure it out now.” His voice rings through the night, his fingers caress your arm to shield you from whatever’s in the dark of night. “The morning will come eventually even when the night is long, right?”

“Yeah.” You succumb into his embrace as you smile through your tears. But how can you not when Minghao says those words like Mingyu did many nights ago?

“Don’t think about it too much.” He kissed your cheek and hugged you close to his chest, to shut you up more than anything, really. “It’s not like the morning won’t come even if the night is a little too long. Focus on what you have in front of you, instead okay?”

“But what if–”

“No.” He cut you off, his palm covering your mouth as he laughed at your glare. “No what if. Let’s enjoy the night while we’re at it.”

“You sound stupid.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance despite the way your heart swelled in affection.

“You love me anyway.” He grinned cheekily, which you laughed at out of embarrassment because if there’s one thing you could never do, it’s to deny your love for him even jokingly.

“Hao?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll hold me through the night, right?”

He smiles like it’s not even a question, his fingers intertwining with yours as if to make a point.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s a long one?”

He clasps your hand tighter, his thumb caressing your knuckle.

“Yeah.”

A/N 2: hi!! it's been quite some time since i write anything along this genre. i've always wanted to write soulmate!au and while this isn't exactly heartfluttering like soulmate!au usually is, i hope you enjoyed it one way or another. this fic got longer than i originally planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it and please do send me your thoughts through anything you're comfortable with. i know it sounds repetitive at this point, but it's truly your feedbacks that keep me goin<3

A/N 3: did any of u guessed gyu di*d btw

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly

also tagging: @joonsytip

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erivroom · 5 months

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MDZS Shapeshifting Cultivation AU plans

this is mostly just a note for my future fanfic writing, because I have a lot of fic ideas surrounding these ideas and plan to link this post in their notes. posting this publicity for any feedback (pls i beg any ideas) and if anyone wishes to use this as well for fics go ahead!!

Non-cultivators do not have animal traits. These traits come through by learning shape-shifting cultivation.

Not only is it extremely difficult to learn to hide their traits, it is extremely rude to do so for many reasons. The main and biggest reason is hiding your traits as a cultivator is like a big “fuck you” to your ancestors.

While there is A LOT of genetic factors, that is not always the case. The genetic factor is usually just upon the main clan families. A cultivator can never gain traits from the main clans, so they are seen as mythical beings even within this universe.

For rogue cultivators it’s USUALLY random, and can even be from the outer clan types. This is because somewhere in their family tree far back there would have been someone from this clan.

Cultivator children born within a main clan branch have their animal traits from a very young age, and they do not typically change beyond a FEW exceptions. If these changes ever happen, even to outer branching families it’s seen as negative, as they have “abandoned” their clan.

Qishan — Wen family are wolves, outer branches are based on house dogs

lmao wwx is scared of dogs it’s perfect

Wen Rohan — Black wolf (like a Tiangou)

Wen Chao — Brown wolf

Wen(Zhao) Zhuliu — Asian Black Bear, often confused as a dog bc he was taken in by the Wens and all that

Wen Ning — Siberian Husky

Wen Qing — German Shepherd

Wen Yuan — Rabbit (??? i’ll explain it in the fic. maybe. maybe it’s better to just leave it a mystery LMAO)

Yunmeng — Main Jiang family wild/big cats, otherwise house cats

Jiang Fengmian — Leopard

Yu Ziyuan — Spider

Jiang Cheng — Lynx

Jiang Yanli — Tiger

Wei Wuxian — Black Fox

Wei Changze — Maine Coon

Lanling — Main Jin family are Peacocks, otherwise birds

Jin Guangshan — Peacock, normal coloring

Jin Zixuan — Peacock, normal coloring

Jin Guangyao — Peacock, white coloring

Qin Su — Peacock, Red coloring, was thought to be a phoenix so… yeah that. happened.

Mo Xuanyu — Peacock, Charcoal/Black colored, often called a crow to belittle his heritage

Jin Ling — Qiongqi

Xue Yang — an actual crow

Qinghe — Main Nie family are Qilin, others are other horned beings (deer, moose, sheep, ect.)

Gusu — Only main family are Dragons, others are bunnies (how does this make sense? it doesn’t but it just is how it is.)

Also, eastern dragon, not western. Wormji.

Lan Wangji’s mother was a White Long-tailed weasel.

Other

Song Lan — Black bat (it’s funny bec–)

A-Qing — a mole

Baoshan Sanren and her disciples become Nine-Tailed Foxes through cultivating. One of if not the only exceptions to changing attributes the cultivation world has ever seen. Nobody knows how it’s done, and only her disciples have ever become nine-tailed foxes.

This pisses off the Wens no doubt, because they think as canines the Nine-Tailed Fox should belong to them.

Cangse Sanren was a grey nine-tailed fox

Xiao Xingchen was a white nine-tailed fox

Fics based on this post

none yet, I’ll add my links when I post them though if anyone else uses this post and wants me to add their fic link feel free to let me know!

You can use the ideas in this post without credit, I’m fine with it ^^

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs headcanons #fanfic #mdzs fanfiction

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

Okay okay okay, now that you have ventured into the territory of Ghost x König I finally have to find the courage to send you a request. I need more of this ship.

I don't have many specifics, enemies to lovers is always great, but Monster (any type, werewolf/bear, your avian soldiers, other unique folklore related creatures etc.) König and Handler Ghost? A combination/variation of the two? Ooooh, in general I am in love with your fantasy AUs. So whatever strikes your inspiration, if you have a completely different idea that comes up in regards to this ship I will probably eat it up, so feel free to venture away from the ideas provided.

If you do this I will kiss- oh wait I heard threats are the social norm in this ask box so uhm... yes... if you do this I will refrain from stealing your teeth. Yes, yes.

Werebear Koenig werebear Koenig werebear Koenig. I got you. Enemies to lovers? No problem! Also Ghost is a werewolf :)

I rewrote this six times before i liked it so pls... let me keep my teeth... I know it's short but I'll make a part 2 or something 😭

Ghost considered himself a selfish person generally. He also genuinely did not believe he was a good person. But with König, he tried to be better. König was polite and skilled, he saw no reason to be mean to him. They were only paired up because Ghost could overpower König, a feat not many people on base could boast. More accurately, no one but Ghost could boast. König was paired to him because Ghost didn't need a handler in the typical sense. It meant König didn't have to worry about it. He was new from KorTac, still adjusting to this. They both hated each other.

Ghost wasn't even sure he knew why. Neither had "punished" the other. They shared section of the base, a room, bathroom and hallway due to Ghost being a lieutenant and requesting the privacy, but they had quickly found rules that meant they never, ever saw each other unmasked unless it was on purpose. It meant they avoided each other pretty much constantly as a bonus.

Occasionally, when they did happen to be in the same area at the same time, it was a fragile truce. Their ranks were ignored and so was their work. Instead, they just continued doing what they were doing in as non awkward of a silence as they could manage.

But König slipped up. During a mission, he had shifted without being told and the wrong people got hurt. Luckily, the friendly fire was mostly just hurt egos and bruises, no casualties. He didn't think König would survive if he had genuinely hurt anyone.

Said shifter was angrily crossing his arms, looking at him with frustration. "They weren't moving fast enough. They needed to get to exfil and I didn't think they could make it at the pace we were going. I was trying to prevent anyone from getting hurt."

"I understand that. But you have to ask for permission, König. People could've gotten hurt." Ghost understood the frustration. Nonshifters could be annoyingly slow at times. Personally, he even agreed it was the right call, but he couldn't tell him that.

"Unlike you, I don't go feral when I shift." König hissed. "I'm in control. I was fine." Low fucking blow. It took a lot for Ghost to shove the initially angry reaction down.

Ghost stared at him and sighed. "I believe you. But the point still stands. You should've asked."

König scowled at him fiercely and Ghost just shook his head. "I know you're used to being a mercenary with no ru-"

"Fuck you, Riley." König suddenly got closer, towering over him. Ghost's heart did something funny that he blamed on fear. Nothing else. His breath moved the cloth over his face.

"König. Stand down."

"And what are you doing to do?" He growled at him.

Ghost growled back and stepped closer, ignoring the height difference. He hooked his ankle around König's knees and sent him to the floor, kneeling in front of him. "Don't ever. Ever."

"Ever what? Growl at you? Disrespect your authority?"

Ghost yanked König's hood up and guilt immediately flooded him. König shied away from him, all the fury going out of him. He looked away, ashamed. There were scars across his face, but they weren't too bad. It was the thick scarring around his throat, like he had been wearing a spiked collar or had almost been decapitated.

Ghost dropped his hood. The silence followed like a shroud. It ached and groaned between them.

König let out a shuddering breath. "I... I do not want you to do that again."

"I wont."

"I promise not to shift without your permission again, sir." Sir. ah.

Ghost wanted to apologize. It was funny. He did worse things to other people and never felt this problem and yet, he wanted to apologize. To König.

"Good. Don't let it." That's what he said instead.

König didn't look at him. The silence stayed. Neither slept.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #König x ghost #König

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talesofesther · 2 years

Text

alright I have a total of zero limits and already started on the Wednesday soulmate au

I don't know when I'll finish it, don't know how many parts it'll have, but I think it's promising

So I'll give you guys the first paragraphs (zero editing, pay the mistakes no mind pls) because I quite liked them, and you'll have an idea of what's to come;

Many people - most of them - saw the existence of soulmates as something good, the world's compensation for its cruelty with humanity; they see it as a reason to look forward to the next day, a reason to believe in a happier future.

Wednesday had a clearer vision. She knew, from the moment her parents broke the news for her that there was someone out there who had a soul that complemented hers perfectly, that it was just another devious move of this universe. A trojan horse that presented itself as a salvation only to torture you - for some people to the point of insanity. Because the world doesn't give you anything on a silver platter and this was no different.

The thing about soulmates, is that each one of the pair is born with an identical mark on their skins; a mark that aches the closer you get to your soulmate, like a faint burning sensation. And once you touch them for the first time, the ache is gone, never to happen again.

You could be on a train, walking a busy street or watching a concert in the middle of a raging crowd and simply bump into the one who bears the other half of you; only to never cross paths with each other again.

So really, if anything, Wednesday respected the boldness of the universe, to come up with something so enticing, so desirable yet so out of reach.

She heard stories of people who felt the burning ache, ever present as they chased it more and more and then suddenly... nothingness. The realization slowly sinking in as they looked frantically from one side to another and watched the people walk by, along with their chance at a happy ending.

Over time, less and less people found their soulmate. If you did, you could be considered one of the lucky ones.

Wednesday considered herself lucky that she hasn't ever felt what others described as the sweetest pain.

Please please let me know your thoughts yeah?

#wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader

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chronicallyday · 7 months

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Okay so because Jena Malone made a TikTok video to respond to the question of what makeup was worn for the Pride & Prejudice movie, I came up with a crack au idea that I shared on discord with friends for post-mockingjay (Finnick lives ofc). It was me telling them my thoughts on how the victors probably all wanted to live privately away from the spotlight even though people like Plutarch wanted them to continue having public personas (like when he asked Katniss to sing for a show)

But what if Johanna Mason one day out of boredom and annoyance decided to do some behind the scenes reveals, just unhinged stuff and she like broadcasts this live and Plutarch has no idea how she’s streaming it. It’s Beetee ofc.

Johanna: oh you wanna know why you never saw me shit? Oh it wasn’t Capitol censorship. You see bears when they hibernate they eat a whole bunch of stuff to clog themselves up before hand and—

Plutarch: make it stop make it stop make it stop

Beetee: I’m gonna need a while to fix it. I did my job too well when I gave her access

Johanna: —and I was 17 of course I didn’t want anyone to see me shitting on national television and then someone sneaking up behind me to kill me while I was doing my business

Haymitch watching with Katniss and Peeta in D12: I should have asked Blight (most likely her mentor) more questions when he was alive

Finnick: pls pls someone be recording this somewhere

Annie: genius. I was too stressed to think about needing to go I just held it in most of the time

Johanna hearing about that later: you held it in for how many days??

Annie: pretty sure the first time I peed that whole time was during the flood

Finnick would try to be supportive with head pats but he’s slowly losing it. Boys had it easier when it came to relieving themselves and he was her mentor so he knew she struggled T^T

But also

Finnick: The real reason the Career pack exists is so we can use the facilities and not be killed with our dicks out

Enobaria just agrees with what he says for the laughs

And honestly I wonder about the bathroom situation cuz Katniss mentions one time that her urine is brown from dehydration in THG but in CF there is not a single mention of any of them needing to use the bathroom

I’m going to assume they were all peeing in the salt lake whenever they were swimming in it

Dr. Aurelius is probably so fed up with the victors at some point cuz they decide to meme their own lives and laugh through the pain

#the hunger games #odesta #johanna mason #crack #crack au #day’s rambling #thg #thg memes #finnick odair

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alexandraisyes · 2 months

Note

No pressure if you don't want to, but Kill Code ship ratings? I already know Solar Flare and Sun get a good positive rating with him... and (old) Moon probably gets a interesting rating since fictional toxicity is fun~

KILLCODE BELOVED OUGH I LOVE KC AND HE NEEDS KISSES. He's literally been shipped with basically EVERYONE by me and my friend group like we are insane about this eldritch man

Killcode x Solar Flare: 100 Stars - THEY ARE THE SHIP THEY ARE THE HYPERFIXATION THEY ARE THE ULTIMATE HUSBANDS THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH THEY WILL GET FUCKING MARRIED BECAUSE SOLAR FLARE IS SO DEVOTED TO HIM

Killcode x Sun: 5 Stars - HE LOVES HIM AND HES GOING TO FUCKING MAKE SURE HE KNOWS THAT HE IS LOVED AND THEY ARE SO SWEET AND WHOLESOME (and completely fucking feral bc KC doesn't give a shit about personal space, modesty, or privacy)

Killcode x Moon: 5 Stars - God the angst potential I love exploiting them. Moon was willing to do whatever it took to get KC under control and it left both of them with a lot of trauma every time

Killcode x Nexus: 4 Stars - They could and would be so wholesome like. Ough. I can't even explain it because I have so many different ideas but-

Killcode x Earth: 4 Stars - I was gonna say two stars again like I did on the earth ships but THEN I REMEMBERED MY RAMBLES AND IM LIKE HOLY SHIT NO I DID THEM SO DIRTY BECAUSE KILLCODE WOULD MARRY THAT WOMAN IN A HEARTBEAT

Killcode x Monty: 0 Stars - I have them paired for specifically one AU AND ITS NOT A GOOD PAIRING

Killcode x OG Computer: 5 Stars - No one who doesn't know the RESET AU understands this but they're so everything to me

Killcode x Ruin: 4 Stars - My friends really like them, and I have an AU where they're best friends (with benefits) so I also like them.

Killcode x Foxy: 4 Stars - Pls pls pls someone see the vision

Killcode x Miku: 2 Stars - He chose death over her

Killcode x Golden Freddy: 3 Stars - Old man yaoi real? Real.

Killcode x Glamrock Freddy: 4 Stars - Bearcode. I'm telling you. It's gonna be big and it's gonna be great and I'm gonna explode

Killcode x Solar (Nice Eclipse): 3 Stars - I'm still so curious about the logic behind this and so intrigued I wanna knowww

Killcode x Lunar: 4 Stars - No one understands my need for them they are so canon in Twisted Celestials and they mean everything to me they're silly little eldritch creatures and they're so curious about each other (they're also so canon to me for my bm and kc QPR AU where they're a couple of feral cats fr). Tall massive gentle giant x tiny little angry twink how the fuck can you not love it

Killcode x Helios (Dark Sun): 4 Stars - This could be so twisted and toxic and Helios could encourage him to be evil again I'm-

Killcode x Nyx (Evil Lunar): 5 Stars - His big guard dog that will tear his enemies to shreds and always come back at his call

Killcode x Gaia (Evil Earth): 2 Stars - She's the kind of person he hates to be honest. He'd kill her with no remorse.

Killcode x Crescent (Solar's Moon): 5 Stars - No one understands I have a MIGHTY NEED that has arisen from RESET AU. They're so so so ough I need them and I need them now he's KC's little mate he's so fucking playful and a little fucked up in the head but KC loves him anyways and jakl;fsdj;a

Killcode x Kronos (Lord Eclipse): 4 Stars - Objectively correct

Killcode x Crius (Servant Sun): 5 Stars - A SWEET LITTLE SUN FOR HIM TO DOTE ON AND LOVE AND KISS IM-

Killcode x Styx (Lord Lunar): 5 Stars - Thoughts about how possessive Styx seemed to be he would ask Killcode to stay so sweetly and of course Killcode would say yes (Styx is so fucking lonely bro KC feels so much sympathy)

Killcode x Moros (Servant Eclipse): 3 Stars - I am so intrigued but also I think Moros is too devoted to his Lord

Killcode x Icarus (Star Holder Freddy): 5 Stars - Bearcode but the bear is traumatized and that makes it better

Killcode x Eos (Lonely Sun): 5 Stars - ANOTHER SWEET SHY LITTLE SUN FOR HIM TO LOVE IM EXPLODING

Killcode x Khonsu (Feral Moon): 5 Stars - KC can fix him

Killcode x Angel (Solar's Sun): 5 Stars - ANOTHER SWEE-

#alex answers #answer ask #thanks for the ask!#tsams ship #tsams killcode #tsams

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narabea06 · 6 months

Text

Guys pls

Pls consider this fic idea im begging you

c!Aimsey-oriented Modern AU fic where Aimsey is cursed with the ability to see and talk to spirits, and uses the ability to talk to Beep and Ranboo, two ghosts haunting two separate apartment buildings she stays at

Bear SMP lore is the first apartment building, Dream SMP lore is the second apartment building :>

Pls somebody hear me out, i have so many ideas for this and i never see c!Aimsey oriented fics like anywhere, pls pls pls hear me out

#aimsey tv #aimsey #c!aimsey #dream smp #bear smp #aimsey and guqqie #aimsey and beep #tubbo and aimsey #aimsey bear smp #sunshipduo #ranboo and aimsey #ghostboo #aimsey the angel of death #the haunting of apartments b42 and d23 #dsmp fic #fanfic #beep bear smp

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nageki-the-friendly-ghost · 1 year

Note

Tell us everything

Welcome to the Hitori fucking Dies AU

Okay so I don't have pretty much anything plotted out yet but the concept is "hatoful boyfriend except hitori managed to save nageki in the fire and died in the process"

Tw for all the usual hatoful boyfriend topics (suicide, familial death and grief, medical malpractice, likeable characters making pretty awful choices)

Also spoilers for if I ever make this for real. I'd want it to be structured similarly to hatoful boyfriend where most major plot reveals happen late, so by explaining the ideas from the start of this AU I'd also kind of be spoiling every major plot twist. But I don't know how far I'll get into the project (I have had a REAL hard time focussing on writing recently) and I want to share all my ideas immediately lol

Obviously there are many logistical issues in this au that would need to be worked out- why bbl wouldn't just happen immediately if Nageki was alive, for instance. Bear with me pls

Also please note that I haven't consumed every single piece of hatoful media, mostly just the two games and sections of one of the manga. There may be some things I missed out on that.

But here are the ideas I have thus far

The first sticking point is that I think there's a high probability that if Hitori died in the fire Nageki would just attempt again because he still believes he needs to sacrifice himself and would just feel even guiltier. BUT I also think it could be equally in character for Nageki to refuse to let Hitori's sacrifice be in vain and find enough resolve to escape and keep living and find a better solution

But of course, Nageki could never have a normal life while infected with the charon virus, nor would he be content with one while he's aware of the Hawk party's plans

He'd have to go on the run, obviously. Here's where you get another interesting possible choice of Nageki somehow managing to join the Doves. But frankly I don't think an incredibly sick 15 year old with extremely limited life experience is going to be good at going on the run. I think he'd manage to stay hidden for long enough. For the purposes of this au he doesn't die from his sickness immediately but it was definitely a risk. (Let's assume that Shuu originally planned for Nageki to live much longer than he did in canon so he received some genuine medical care in between the experiments)

However. Nageki is homeless and unable to tell anyone about what was done to him or get help. He can't go to any birds because the Hawks are searching for him, and he can't warn any humans because they'd just die if he spoke to them

Surprise! This is where this also becomes a Kazuaki lives AU!

I think Nageki meets Kazuaki mostly by random chance in the street. Now, in canon I'm not sure if Kazuaki was kicked out of college at this point and that's why he was out there in the rain or if he was out there for some other reason (edit: been informed that he IS still in college when he meets Hitori in canon, which works great for me). I'm choosing to believe it's the latter for the purposes of making this au work- Kazuaki is living in a dorm at this point but is close to failing his classes and is out in the rain for some reason. Roll with me here.

Nageki stumbles across Kazuaki. He'd probably be hesitant to approach due to the aforementioned danger

But Kazuaki is obviously not in a good state, and if there's one thing Nageki hates its feeling like he can't do anything when people are struggling. And part of Nageki is purely running on What Would Hitori Do mode right now. So obviously Nageki tries to figure out what he can do to help

I think suddenly being shown kindness by some random kid who is clearly in a similarly awful state might draw Kazuaki out of his head enough that he could end up trying to help Nageki instead, out of genuine concern, a sense of understanding, and a desperate need to be important to literally anybirdie on earth

This is the first time Nageki has talked to anybirdie since Hitori's death, as well as the longest Kazuaki has talked to someone in weeks

Nageki needs a place to stay that no one would think to look for him and where he's slightly less likely to immediately die. Kazuaki needs to interact with another living being regularly, and has an empty dorm room and a meal plan he's barely been using

cue incredibly dysfunctional found family slowburn- They feel obligated to each other (which eventually becomes genuine care and protectiveness) and end up functioning better as a result

(This could possibly end up being very codependent, because what relationship in hatoful doesn't have a LITTLE unhealthy codependency. Staking the whole of your recovery on another person's wellbeing is NOT sustainable. But overall WAY healthier for both of them than Hitori and Kazuakis canon dynamic in that they both make it out alive with no deception necessary.)

Kazuaki starts attending classes again so that they can stay housed. He struggles and still can't thrive, but he just barely stays afloat with Nageki's support and renewed motivation. Nageki does what he can to make the dorm more habitable without leaving. Nageki's presence is a secret for obvious reasons, but it's a pretty easy one to keep since Kazuaki is so isolated to begin with. Nageki's trapped again in a different way, but Kazuaki's awful living space may honestly feel like a relief after the sterile lab. Months, maybe even a full year, pass

Eventually, Nageki trusts Kazuaki enough to tell him about everything- the charon virus, St. Pigeonations, Hitori's death, all of it. He tells him that one day, if he can live long enough, Nageki will find a way to expose what's going on at St. Pigeonations to the world and bring an end to it

Nageki likely tells him out of a sense of guilt- this is what he's gotten Kazuaki into, and he deserves better than all the extra trouble Nageki comes with.

But Nageki also won't be talked out of his plan, and when Kazuaki realizes this, he's not going to let Nageki be in danger by himself, not when it means Kazuaki would be left completely alone again

Kazuaki hasn't dreamed about his future in years, had no plans past college for how his life could go. What difference would it make if he started working towards becoming a teacher?

Kazuaki had no significance to the Hawks whatsoever. And teaching is completely in character for Kazuaki when he's in a slightly better mental state (see: shrine au) so no one would likely question it. No one EVER pays attention to Kazuaki or takes him seriously- which could make him a very, very good information gatherer

(And Nageki IS still sick, and maybe, just maybe Kazuaki can find out if the doctor wasn't COMPLETELY lying about doing research into curing it– if only as a contingency plan to keep his bioweapon from getting out of his control. Maybe if Kazuaki poked around enough, he could find it and hand it over to a non-evil doctor. He doesnt tell Nageki about this idea though- Nageki would refuse it outright, and Kazuaki couldnt bear the dissappintment if he told him and then failed)

Nageki... is apprehensive about this plan. But it's the only one they have, the only influence he can possibly exert to try to stop the Hawks without walking immediately into their clutches. His need to do what's right overrules his need to do what's smart.

But he begs- Kazuaki can't do too much for him, can't sacrifice his own wellbeing to keep Nageki hidden, and he can't do ANYTHING that might get him caught. If Kazuaki ever doesn't come home, Nageki is flying in right after him. Nageki has lost three families now- he WON'T lose a fourth, no matter what.

Kazuaki promises. We'll see if he's able to keep it.

WOO okay that's the main part I had planned out. But here's a little more.

I haven't thought as much about ghost!Hitori yet but. Oh man. Ghost Hitori

I think he'd be a lot less bitter than canon Hitori since he achieved what he set out to do (save nageki) but I do think he'd still have regrets enough to not be able to move on (leaving Nageki completely alone, not rescuing him earlier, knowing that there's still danger and being able to do nothing to help it)

I think he'd be less detached from the world and more driven to help others- especially the students, the kids, who were being used unawares of the horrors of the school. If only, if ONLY one of them could hear his warnings

(eventually, years later, Hiyoko can hear his warnings)

I'm also curious about how Shuu's plans would change with Nageki alive- with a burnt medical center and no liver cells to work with, he doesn't have samples of the charon virus. Would he still plan on turning Ryouta into the new carrier when the original carrier was still out there and needed to be recaptured? Lots to think about.

How I'd want to present this, ideally is as a fan game of alternate routes based on these changes

In true hatoful boyfriend fashion all of this is just the backstory to get to where all the characters are at the start of the game. The main plot is about all of the butterfly effects that occur in Hiyoko's experience due to entirely new plot threads occurring

#echos personal rambles #hatoful boyfriend #nageki fujishiro #kazuaki nanaki #kazuaki kun #uzune hitori

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rontra · 2 years

Note

Pls tell us more about ur summer/salem rare pair cuz I'm so interested

ok ok stupid ass post incoming its also at least a couple thousand words long so be warned

like i CAN yes, but it'll be rambling and inconveniently longwinded!

this is because my thoughts on this and the context for the pictures i drew actually hinges on a bunch of rwby analysis that has to be established First for any of my conclusions to make sense. i actually thought about making a comic about them to lay this stuff out in a more convenient format…maybe i will do it, but until then, umm. i'm sorry about this level 9000 nerd wizard post. it's the autism and passion for women kissing (the 2 reasons behind everything i do)

as an aside before i lose my lucidity, i'm not claiming the stuff i'm about to set up is 100% absolutely indisputably true and if you disagree you're wrong. it's just sort of my interpretation of a bunch of different stuff. it's fine if you disagree or have your own reading! but for the purposes of this specific content we're discussing, in the context of the women kissing AU if you will, these are presupposed "truths" . idc if you think i'm wrong as hell in real life! but in the world of the pictures i drew/my feelings on this ship, this is the list of Things That Must Be True.

(the salem/summer torment nexus is built on a bunch of overthinking rwby and then a little bit of lesbian high romance, so we do reach a point where we finally veer off from "analyzing rwby" and into "and that is why women kissing women", but that is, all i can do . because just putting down the "here's why they should kiss" conclusion makes me sound insane. so before we go into why they should kiss in the way i've depicted, here are some points that must first be true)

Summer is alive and well, and

Summer is Salem's unseen lieutenant at Beacon, and is working for her by her own free will, because

Salem is right (caveats about being evil rn notwithstanding) and

Remnant treats them in similar ways, for opposite purposes (thus in the women kissing women world, they are not only women who should kiss, but foils who should kiss: a far more powerful gameplay unit that inflicts a Brainrot DoT on its target (me))

i'm not going to be completely thorough here: i'm omitting anything that doesn't feel immediately important to understanding me, so if it feels like i skipped something, i definitely did. please bear with me bc this post's existence is already hilarious. the omissions probably aren't me missing things (depending on what it is) i'm just genuinely trying not to get derailed by factoring in every nuance and perspective (which rwby has, A Lot, of,). do not tweet at me

1 and 2 are almost self-explanatory, so they're quick: scenes about summer are nigh-universally conspicuous in how they talk about her, and there are too many questions raised about her/her fate that only she (and salem) could answer. her just being dead is too straightforward for all this effort, so something else is surely going on. in v8, the "Hound Summer" idea is raised, but i don't think they would let a character onscreen spill the beans ahead of time if it was actually the truth. (additionally, salem herself describes the hound as "an experiment", indicating there isn't like a bunch of them running around or anything...)

HOWEVER, letting ruby draw the "hound summer" conclusion on screen leads me to believe the actual truth is not FAR away: it'll be a knife-twist on what ruby said. the More Harrowing version of "my mom is alive but a tool for salem against her will" feels like it's naturally "my mom is alive and working for salem on purpose".

for 2, salem has an additional lieutenant that we have not been shown; being at beacon working on the Beacon Relic Puzzle ever since the Fall. we see salem contacting this agent to give them verbal instructions over the grimmphone, which is…not typically how she directs grimm, suggesting it is a person. we aren't privy to any further information about this person except their station being Beacon, which…i hate to say it but that's a "dramatically seeing summer rose alive" ass place….

the REASON for summer being salem's lieutenant as opposed to A) dead, B) a tool, C) a double agent, D) literally anything else, is because of 3 and 4.

this is where things are gonna get really cringe and potentially deranged but i need you to stay with me. let's go in order and focus on 3 first: salem is right.

saying this will cause some immediate pushback from some people, but to those people, please set that gut reaction aside for now and play in the space with me; i'm not saying that her current plan of action is like, nice, or Good, but i'm saying she is ideologically the one in the right. like Thematically. it took a lot of work for the world to make her be evil (across quite literally millions of years, potentially hundreds of millions) and now she's like "fine i'm about to be hilarious", but in the fundamental conflict rwby is about, she hasn't stopped being RIGHT.

just before this, someone on twitter asked me what i think salem's goal is, because a lot of people jump to assuming it's planet-destroying stuff; i had to make it a twitlonger just to answer them because (in case it wasnt obvious already) im head FULL thoughts SALEM mouth RAMBLING. instead of spending time and wordcount rehashing all of that i'll just relink it here because all of it is important to THIS discussion too: http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1ss7lck

You Have To Read That Post Because I Won't Re-Type It. But It Is Important For This Post. TM.

ok. you're back? hi. sorry about that. let's continue

okay so we have the "disquietingly genocidal if carried out to its natural conclusion, which is that we should surrender ourselves to the complete custody of the World Destroyer" guy, and the "humanity inherently has a right to exist and doesn't need babysitting from someone who believes otherwise" guy. One of these sides is currently in control of remnant. and it's not the one you'd hope! and it's not the one the show agrees with.

(sidenote before it's too late I should clarify i have a Lot of thoughts about ozma's side of all this and like i said rwby is incredibly rich when you begin to mine for nuance and in-universe perspectives; i love that guy to bits and pieces. there are a lot of angles to this dangle. it's just that neither the twitlonger nor this post is About Him, so if it sounds like im dismissing his own nightmare situation i'm NOT im just not posting About Him Right Now. love you oz sorry you're also in the bullshit swamp etc amen)

i mention this very briefly in the twitlonger, but ozma has a vested interest in A) wiping salem from history/humanity's knowledge, and B) making sure the people who DO know about her see her as completely incapable of being reasoned with, the source of all evil, and so on. he's been pretty aggressive in these efforts, successfully paring salem's perpetual existence in remnant down to a spectrum ranging from "i have never heard of this woman in my life" to "exaggerated fairytale image that can be safely ignored" and maybe like "scary witch story to keep kids from wandering into the woods (FAKE, NOT REAL)". and to his circle, she's evil incarnate, and nothing more—still the fairytale witch, just an actual threat this time.

there seems to be a belief among some of the characters in the show that if you stop salem, you win; you've Fixed The Problem. in this way of thinking, salem is the one thing holding remnant back from being Normal And Good. she is the single cog not turning in time with the rest of remnant, and she is Fucking Up The Machine For Everybody. obviously this is a very simple and easy way of looking at her, and it is also desperately encouraged by ozma's version of the story. for his story to work, salem MUST be the source of all evil, the well it all springs from, the clear villain who's behind every bit of suffering and wants to destroy humanity; if she is NOT, his own comprehension of his trauma falls apart, his life's work and mission loses meaning, and the world he's built on them falls apart too.

(unfortunately, you cannot fix a dysfunctional world by destroying a single woman (no matter how much some certain gods try to tell you otherwise) if the dysfunction is systemic and foundational the way remnant's is)

with that in mind, summer rose (aw hey girl i forgot you were in this post) seems like a pretty stark opposite to her. but i would like to argue the…opposite. opposite double reacharound combo: They Are The Same edition. aka 4

okay, so, another facet of ozma's ideology that goes pretty visibly hand in hand with his own baggage (rip) is the fixation on this, idea of, a Hero. a Guardian. a "simple soul". specifically, he tends to nominate a Lone Hero, who must shoulder an unfathomable burden—usually a secret one—with little to no support (because they cannot share the burden). and this is, demonstrably and in no uncertain terms, a practice that breaks heroes.

(without getting too distracted: this is pretty obviously what was also done to HIM, and ozma continuing this pattern is not surprising with that fact in mind; i do sympathize. but girl…<3 you are crafting the crux of an insane post on rontra.tumblr.com and you dont even know it)

the Lone Hero is perfect. they fight alone, carrying humanity's light, and when they die they do so heroically, righteously, bravely. they are a symbol, praised and exalted even into their own deaths. their torch doesn't burn for long, but it's beloved whilst it does! the superhero dies young, but dies well.

this idea is a motif that recurs in rwby; all four Maidens are historically isolated, working alone, their very existence a secret except for when they swoop in to save the day. Huntsmen can become Lone Heroes if they're exemplary or unlucky enough. it was done to Pyrrha on-screen, by backing her into a corner and nominating her for an unfathomable burden she could not possibly refuse—and it lead to her death, alone, in a fight she knew she could not win.

of course, it also intersects with the Silver-eyed Warriors, who are (like Maidens) secret and largely isolated, but (especially when combined with being Huntsmen) make extremely powerful Lone Heroes. THERE'S our girl we've been waiting for! summer came out of the extremely notable team STRQ, and she's got silver eyes; with her pedigree we've got another legendary Grimm Reaper on our hands!

ha ha…

the weight must be crushing.

i can't say for sure why summer left; maybe she really thought going in guns blazing could finish this. maybe she had encountered a piece of information that alarmed her, or even seemed to corroborate something Raven tried to tell her team years prior. maybe it was something else that drove her to take the fight to salem on a solo mission. maybe being a Hero from a broken team just does that to your brain. we don't know yet! but she went out alone and she met up with salem.

this was never going to work, and not ONLY because salem can't be killed: it's doomed because rwby, the show, does not give praise to self-sacrifice. it is opposed to the very idea of the Lone Hero. when characters break the buddy system and face the bullshit alone, they usually don't get out unscathed, and usually don't succeed in accomplishing much of note. if anything at all, they usually attain something temporary or minor that isn't at all worth the sacrifice they made. because how can anything be worth that? rwby so far is pretty against the idea of both a lone hero and of "good death"; you can't die heroically, because you only ever die tragically.

but the Hero, Lone or otherwise, is needed. it's a twisted hope, but it is hope: there are people, real heroes, who will do anything to save us; including die, over and over and over and over and over again. remnant runs on hero blood. the academies are major arteries that pump out more of it, and even while you're at an academy you're not in the clear, because the students are included as a layer of protection around the relic. if something comes for the school, you are intended to die for it.

Like it or not, the people that hired me are going to change the world! You can't stop 'em, I can't stop 'em! You wanna be a hero? Then play the part and die like every other Huntsman in history!

and the selected Lone Heroes, even more so, are intended to die fighting an unwinnable fight, bearing unfathomable burdens. proverbially speaking, it keeps the lights on: keeps the fight going. keeps humanity from losing its grip on faith. and it completely robs each Hero of their humanity.

this kind of hero is not human: it's romantic like a fairytale and reduces a human being to a symbol. one of hope, sure, but a symbol nonetheless. the perfect hero isn't permitted to doubt or fear or hesitate. they're something distant, something else, something beyond humanity, something conceptual. and THIS, (points at it) is BAD

but it is the other side of the coin. the Lone Hero who represents all of humanity's hope has a natural obverse: the Sole Evil responsible for all of the world's darkness. the Single Enemy who springs forth all the things the Single Light stands against. these two concepts together pull an astonishing amount of the weight to make ozma's ideology function. without them, the wheels do not turn.

it's important how successfully ozma has eradicated salem's humanity and cast her as a force of blind evil. you can't reason with her, it's futile to try… but we know that salem may be very fucked up indeed to people, but she's also plenty willing to talk; essentially the only reason no one even thinks to try it is because her carefully designed reputation precedes her. the ruling world ideology prominently features the bastions of humanity, the bulwark against evil, the Lone Hero figure; the Guardian…and it hinges almost entirely upon the Sole Evil of salem, who can't be reasoned with but must be destroyed, even though the war against her is eternal, impossible, unsustainable.

by design, neither one is permitted any humanity at all.

Summer Rose and Salem are both ideological work-horses. in the world of remnant, neither of them can retain their humanity: they are conceptual existences that pull ozma's world through the motions, step by agonizing step. they are both yoked to the same plough.

if those two TALKED—and salem is very much willing to talk—i think a lone hero with a passion for humanity and way too much skin in the game would be repulsed by the system she lives in. she would recognize that she (and huntsmen as a broader institution) would be in the Wrong to support ozma—and by extension the gods, who look at humanity as a thing to be corralled and punished, something that must actively justify its own right to exist—

—that she's got two kids in this world, and she suddenly hopes to high heaven that they never get pulled into the same cannon fodder machine that created the Guardian summer rose, who bleeds and bleeds so that all humanity can cling to a hope that is bound to be false because the arbiters of their worth do not find them inherently worthy of life—

But, baby, please don't do what I did; I don't want you to waste your life in vain.

the reason women should kiss is that there is a mutual understanding that they are both beasts of burden to this world: two less-than-human icons, unpersoned on purpose, merely representing a concept. they perform roles in a narrative written by somebody else. they are not human! they are bearing unimaginable weight in service of an idea!

and they don't want to see humanity's fate be shackled to that idea for a moment longer.

i think when i say summer/salem most people think im trying to conjure like a dark spicy image full of like, power and control, and tension, and stuff. and there's nothing wrong with those, i do make a lot of those. but in reality im picturing the most tender secret in all of remnant. could you imagine?

...they are both yoked to ozma's ideology in these weird twisted ways so theres a lot of understanding and sympathy there, even if their Functions are different. opposite even. perhaps like foils one could say...

it's a ship built on that kind of understanding. the theme tying it together is that grueling dehumanization and the tenderness of seeing that you're both human to the core regardless. remnant yearns to grind them both up, one in service of the other, for a horrifically cruel ideal they can't just lie down and surrender to. humanity deserves better. so do they.

salem is right. summer rose knows it.

in the pictures i made, there's a protective angle to their poses and interactions: sort of a knightly, HER Warrior, type thing. "NOT YOUR SACRIFICE". etc. i guess salem is a lady with a tendency to attract the heroic knightly type (rimshot)

and that's why summer and salem should kiss. i dont know. i know im the one that locked you in this room but we should get out of here before i transform like a werewolf. wanna listen to Until The End in the car?

to live free or die, it’s all the same the enemy was right, there’s no reclaiming in waves of shame, we’re desperate to make amends but through a simple soul we lie complacent.

awoo...

#what have i done. sweet jesus what have i done.#mlem

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