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#Reborn One Hundred
wabbitablet · 1 year
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a bit of skill building today!
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trashbinbackyard · 5 months
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I seek for the light that has flamed out I seek for the truth in the night
When I said his playlist is just Insomnium's entire discography i meant it
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hellishjoel · 6 days
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reborn
1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader
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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 
warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth
A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics
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There’s a new baby in Jackson. 
One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 
And she’s your little girl. 
She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 
This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 
But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.
Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 
Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 
You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 
One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 
Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.
“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.
“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 
“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”
Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 
“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 
“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.
Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 
Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 
That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 
As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 
“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 
“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 
“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 
“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 
Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 
“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 
It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 
“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.
He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 
You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?
“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 
“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 
“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 
He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”
“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 
Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”
“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 
Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 
In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 
During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 
Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 
You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.
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4dbarbie-archive · 10 months
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4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?
Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡
Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.
May we all realize our Self ♡
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There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2
The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6
A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7
Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9
Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10
You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11
Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12
Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8
Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13
Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14
You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41
A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)
HOW TO STOP?
The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj
You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17
You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18
I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20
Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21
You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20
Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22
What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23
Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14
Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14
If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24
One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23
You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25
Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23
Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26
The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27
She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.
By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29
Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30
There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31
All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17
Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16
Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33
Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16
To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35
All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36
What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37
Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38
Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39
If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2
Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40
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Got more questions? Recommended reading:
Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3
My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
All references from the remix post
Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson
*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book
What does this look like when applied?
Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.
From 4dbarbie students: see the tag
Other: 1, 2
Okay, what to do after reading all this?
Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.
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danytar · 1 month
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— 𝐴𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑒𝑛 𝐼𝐼 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝐿𝑖𝑠𝑡 𖧧
Your index which you need it during your trip in my blog, enjoy and have a wonderful reading let me know if you want to be tagged, the reqs are open don't hesitate to ask ✱̸.
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◟ 𖠗 𖠗 𖠗 𖠗𐐂̸፧ 🍸
ONE SHOTS
Keys: A!(Adult aegon), Y!(Young aegon).
“I will make them pay a hundred times over” A!Aegon X Reader
“The reason I believe in fate” A!Aegon X Reader
“What is mine is mine” A!Aegon X Reader
“Drowning in you” Y!Aegon X Reader
“The Midnight mood” A!Aegon X Reader
“My joy&pride” A! Aegon X Reader
“Things I do for love” A!Aegon X Reader
“My dragon's mother” A!Aegon X Reader
“My dragon's mother p2” A!Aegon X Reader
“Cold nights” A!Aegon X Reader
“His weaknesses” A!Aegon X Reader
“wrestling” Y!Aegon X Reader
“Making him happy” A!Aegon X Reader
“Always” A!Aegon X Reader
“Meet me at the highest heaven” A!Aegon X Reader
“The bond we share” Y!Aegon X Reader
“Home is where my dragons is” A!Aegon X Reader
SERIES
The series talks about Aegon II and his wives ( OC )
“ The Conquerors Reborn”
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shippyo · 25 days
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@kirbyoctournament
Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....
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Personality
She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.
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Powers
Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.
She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.
Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.
Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.
And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.
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Canon characters she knows or knows that exist
Morpho
Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"
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Necrodeus
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"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"
The void
A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.
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Lore
[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]
Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.
Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...
At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.
Life had died.
Or was it really like that?
Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?
Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?
But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories
" know you."
"But who were you?"
"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"
"Now, what are we?"
They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.
And it didn't matter anymore.
A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.
Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.
until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.
Nothing had meaning other than existing.
Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.
From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.
And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.
It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.
But there was no escape, no being could escape it.
After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.
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fancyfeathers · 3 months
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Yandere Pierro loosing his darling in the fall of Khaenri'ah, he broke and felt broken for so many centuries. Then one day when he was in the carriage, riding through the capital city, the tsaritsa sitting across from him. He glances out the window as they ride pass a random shop and his heart stops. Behind the frosted glass of one of the businesses he sees a young woman addressing a customer with a kind smile, it was his darling. No it couldn’t be, she died centuries ago, she was gone, was it her reborn again?
The truth is it was her, not reborn again, but she tried her hand in faking her death during the destruction of the nation. Now that she bore the curse of immortality she traveled for a period, along with Dainsleif. Soon she became tired of that life so she settled for staying in a region for about ten or so years at a time before moving on. Now she found herself settling in the snowy nation again, getting a job, making temporary friends before she had to leave again.
Later that evening when she is walking to her small home, hands grab her and drag her along. She glanced up to see Fatui soldiers dragging her along, per orders of the Jester. She is tossed into a carriage and by the time she processes what it happening, a hand comes to touch her face and guide her to look up at the man she tried to escape…
They have five hundred years of lost time to make up for.
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maeby-cursed · 5 months
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vampire!satoru who’s not used to being in the shadows. 
he gets turned very young and lives through every stage he could possibly live through; denial, starvation, a deep self loathing and a bitter feeling of acceptance. he was never too concerned about harming others but he was also not used to having his liberties curtailed.
vampire!satoru who begins to hunt others.
he needs the blood, quite literally, to survive. he’s also gotten even more vain in this new skin, this odd state of life between what was and death. he hasn’t found any others like him yet so he has no guidance, he hunts men and women alike and tries to figure out what he likes. he can’t help but admire himself though; this new glow of his skin, his elongated canines… he enjoys the blood dripping down his face, the only drop of color against the white of his hair, skin and eyes. 
vampire!satoru who gives up on morals entirely. 
he finds new victims easily and feeds on them, enjoying himself like narcissus in the lake. he buys a mansion by stealing money from every prey and works out a system to enjoy his life to the fullest even if he cannot see the sun ever again. he tricks and manipulates women and lies and slaughters men by the thousands. he feels numb with every drop of blood.
he never once kills a child.
vampire!satoru who meets you.
it’s a cold january night and a blizzard has struck the town he resides in at the moment. he could very well go out if he felt inclined to but he’s not forgotten his lazy ways, he doesn’t feel like chasing some poor victim in the middle of a snow storm just to get a drop of cold blood. he’s not that desperate. 
he spends his night reading, studying, turning the tv on and off and contemplating himself on every surface he can see himself reflected upon. 
he’s in the middle of admiring his eyes on a silver spoon when someone knocks on his door. he’s so startled he drops the utensil, and now he’s annoyed. no one startles the satoru gojo.
vampire!satoru who opens the door and sees your face for the first time.
you’re wrapped in a thick coat, hair floating around your visage due to the wind. he’s struck for a moment with a memory he can’t recall; a warm smile and a mane of black hair. 
“who the hell are you?” he asks. 
vampire!satoru who for an unknown reason decides to listen to you.
you explain how you were about to catch a flight when the storm hit, how you don’t know the town very well and cannot find your way to a hotel. a shy smile makes your cheeks soft when you timidly ask if you could stay for a night. 
vampire!satoru who is a predator, vampire!satoru who is an animal, vampire!satoru who is not human, not your friend, not kind, not good.
vampire!satoru who for a second feels greedy.
you trust him. you trust this creature in front of you who is very obviously not like you, who has the coldest eyes you’ve ever met and the longest canines you’ve ever seen. your instincts know – they must.
and yet… he can see it in your eyes, the kindness hidden behind the pupils that tell him you always expect people to be good, even when you shouldn’t.
vampire!satoru who feels thirsty for something that isn’t blood for the first time in a hundred years.
vampire!satoru who can’t remember who he was all those years ago.
he can’t remember the faces of those he used to love, can’t remember how he looked like or what he thought of the world. who was a human in a world of humans and now feels like a child who’s been told he has to hurt others to survive. 
he can’t remember what he’s done since he was turned, can’t remember the number of victims or what they looked like. who was reborn alone and has lived alone and will exist forever alone.
vampire!satoru who really truly doesn’t want this to be his existence. 
vampire!satoru who answers your question with an “okay” and lets you in.
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gojoidyll · 3 months
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Infinity
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Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader
Part 11 | new life, new beginning, new death
Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.
Infinity Masterlist
For centuries, a battle between Gojo and Sukuna raged on all because of one soul, one girl, one person who kept coming back.
In some lives, Sukuna would have her sitting prettily on his lap, one of his four hands running through her hair as the two would enjoy the peaceful silence that nature had to offer. Not a single soul or cursed spirit bothering them.
However, in most lives, y/n would be living again and again with Gojo. Their hands always intertwining as they would meet each other, become friends, die a tragic death, and then be reborn again, again, and again.
Though, the silent battle for her that both Gojo and Sukuna were holding came to a standstill when Sukuna was sealed away and turned into a cursed object. His power being split between his twenty fingers. When this happened Gojo couldn’t have been happier. Finally, Sukuna would not interfere. At least, that was the plan as he and y/n died again, and their souls were reborn in present time.
GOJO SATORU yawned loudly as he fell back into his chair, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as a bored expression crossed his features. His blindfold lying uselessly across his desk.
This was the first life he ever lived in such a modern world. This was the first life he lived where he felt so much power course through him. This was the first life he lived at the age of 28 that he has yet to meet y/n.
Though, he blames himself for that. Mainly because he didn’t receive his past memories until late in his teens right after he got stabbed by Toji Fushiguro.
But even after I got my past memories back, I still haven’t met y/n. Where could she be? Is it possible that she hasn’t been born yet?
He crinkled his nose at that. That would be a pain if that’s the case.
But what was also a pain was Itadori Yuji. One of the new first years and someone who is now the vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses hasn’t mentioned anything about y/n yet, but Gojo knew that the conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. A shame that Itadori would be in the crossfire.
No matter, as long as Itadori can keep a hold on the King of Curses, then when Gojo finally finds y/n, Sukuna shouldn’t be a problem at all.
A knock on the door was quick to break him out of his thoughts. His eyes narrowed drastically when he felt Yaga’s presence behind the door along with someone else.
“What now,” he muttered.
Grabbing his blindfold, he was quick to put it on while also plastering a goofy smile on his face. (He thought feigning happiness would be easier than being grumpy despite him still being unhappy about not knowing where y/n is.)
“What’s up principal? It’s not everyday you come to meet me in my office.”
“I knew you wouldn’t bother coming to the meeting today, I brought them here.”
“Meeting? Bringing someone?”
Principal Yaga sighed, “and of course you weren’t listening… Gojo. I clearly said that you would be in charge of showing the new teacher around. She’s new and graduated a few years ago from a different school. What made her choose to come here as a teacher, I don’t know. But I hope you will at least show her around before letting her loose.”
Gojo waved his hand dismissively, “sure, sure. I’ll show her around.”
Principal Yaga turned slightly to the person standing a little away, “This is Gojo Satoru, he’ll be showing you around. Hopefully, though, you won’t have to deal with him much after today.”
“Rude,” Gojo said with a smile.
“Thank you Principal Yaga.”
The moment he heard her voice, an electric jolt went right through Gojo’s spine causing him to stand up a little straight, the smile on his lips falling as his mouth opened slightly.
No way.
“Hello, Gojo. My name is L/n Y/n. I hope we can be great friends!”
Thank you so much for coming to me yourself.
“It’s nice to meet you miss L/n, I hope we can be great friends too.”
He held out his hand to her, to which she gladly took with a smile on her face.
Over the many lives he lived, Gojo knew that rushing things would lead to Y/n dying, hating him, or something a bit more sinister happening. Slow and steady was always the way to go. Besides, as long as he was here, then he was sure that everything was going to work out this time.
He was the strongest now, after all.
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Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant @carvelcakes @itzmeme @nervouschocolatecat @aspiring-bookworm @babyorphanstastegood @lilacskyly @ilovethegold
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incomingalbatross · 28 days
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One Piece isekai story but. different
So there's a teenage boy. Reads One Piece. Loves the battles, the characters' strength and determination, the wildness of the world and all the adventures.
One day, as sometimes happens, he gets hit by a bus and reborn into the One Piece world.
It takes some time for him to grow up enough to realize it's the One Piece world - he was reborn for real, and his brain takes a bit to catch up to his first-life memories.
His new home is a small, uneventful village in the East Blue, not brushed by the main plot, and our isekai protagonist grows up wondering what to do with this second chance.
Because on the one hand, just being born into One Piece did not automatically give him main character energy. He doesn't have a Devil Fruit and has not managed to figure out how to become a powerhouse like Zoro or Sanji. Probably the smart thing to do would be to take his out-of-the-way location as a sign and avoid anything that looks like Plot.
On the other hand... he's in One Piece. There's so much cool stuff out there. This is everything he dreamed about the first time around. This is the best chance he'll ever have to become someone like Luffy or Zoro, the kind of person he's always wanted to be. How can he not take it?
This bounces back and forth in his brain the whole time he's growing back up. Even staying home doesn't protect you from loss, he learns when he becomes an orphan - this is both an argument for and against going anywhere.
And then. One day in his teens.
Luffy lands in the village.
Our protagonist recognizes him from hundreds of chapters and hundreds more episodes, with his crew by his side - or the beginnings of his crew, at least, there's hardly any of them. This must be early in canon.
Of course he makes friends with them. How could he not? They're the Straw Hats.
And, of course, they uncover an evil plot threatening his village - and, wait, he actually vaguely remembers this arc? Though it didn't go this way in the manga, because he wasn't there...
Huh. He's getting to affect a little bit of canon. And while our protagonist is more focused on making sure nothing goes wrong for the village and people he's grown to love, part of his brain is fanboying about that. He's gotten his brush with the real Straw Hats! He's gotten an adventure with them!
And he does okay. They save the day, and he even helped, and Luffy calls him a friend and even Zoro gives him approval. The rush is kind of a lot.
It makes things click. Our protagonist finally lets one side win in his mental argument. He'll never be happy if he doesn't go out and experience this world, reborn normie or not. He packs his bags and decides to set out, saying goodbye to the Straw Hats on his way. Maybe he'll even get to see them again--
Wait.
Why are they telling him to board their ship.
Why are they asking him to join the crew.
This is way beyond a little canon divergence, and he knows he should say no, knows trying to insert himself into the main characters is insane...
But they want him. Luffy wants him to join his crew, and even a day in his company has made him feel like not just a character but a friend. Who can say no to Luffy?
...And, actually. He's already affected the plot. They got a ship out of this adventure, and he is 90% sure that didn't happen in canon. They tended to swap their ships out a lot in early arcs, so maybe it won't have a lasting effect, but...hey, maybe he won't either! Maybe this is just a little extension of his brush with greatness.
Maybe he can push his luck anyway.
So, with a laugh and a cheer, our isekai protagonist boards the Going Merry and asks - just to see - if he can be the captain.
Luffy says no, obviously, but that's okay. Usopp knows he was never supposed to be here - he's happy just to get a chance on the crew.
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gffa · 5 months
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Over the last week, I decided to go ahead with bookmarking all the fics I've recommended over the years on AO3 since I abide by tumblr poll results always (and man pour one out for all the fic that never made it to AO3 or has since been deleted, sooooo many gems lost to time!) and it was a bit more than the ~3,000 I was expecting:
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Hopefully, this will be easier than browsing the hundreds of recs posts I've made, since you can filter for any of the author's tags now! These are mostly focused on Star Wars and DC fandom, but I did my time in the anime mines and occasional tours through some TV fandoms or movies. You can dig into everything unfiltered and start your own filtering, or the bigger fandoms you'll find:
MAJOR FANDOMS: Each of these should have 100+ at minimum and, in the case of Star Wars, literally almost half of them are in that fandom. Look, Star Wars fandom might be a trash fire in a lot of ways, but it is ON FIRE with some good fic. (Older bookmarks not guaranteed to match my current sentiments, especially re: the Jedi, but they did catch my fancy at that point in time!)
STAR WARS: - All Star Wars -OR- All Star Wars minus the Obi-Wan/Anakin ship - OR- Nothing BUT Obi-Wan/Anakin
BATMAN/DC: - DC can sometimes be tricky, but you can do a Batman* search and get most of them (though, sometimes Nightwing* or Young Justice* or Superman* will catch some of the others). Honestly, though, you might want to just do a search for what character or dynamic you like and have fun from there, because otherwise you're getting a face full of my Dick Grayson Is The Center Of The Universe And I'm Making That Everyone Else's Problem agenda. ;)
MARVEL/MCU: - Marvel* will probably get most of the various properties, though you may want to filter for Defenders* or Guardians of the Galaxy* if you're interested -OR- Marvel* without the Thor/Loki - These focus a lot on the Thor* fandom if you want to witness the results of like 8 years of constant voracious reading in that fandom (Minus the ship), because, seriously, I read a LOT of Odinson family fic. - Bonus, just do a search for Maximoff* to find some really good X-Men: First Class-verse because, listen, I have been ALL ABOUT the Maximoff twins since long before the movies or MCU brought them over and I will DIE ON THE HILL of "Marvel, make Magneto their bio-dad again or I'm never reading another comic of yours ever".
TOLKIEN/LORD OF THE RINGS/SILMARILLION/HOBBIT: - Tolkien* -OR- Hobbit* -OR- Lord of the Rings* searches will turn up most of my Elf-hunting, I primarily focus on the Sindar Elves, but look I can't resist my problematic Feanorian faves or that I will die on the hill that Fingolfin is the best ever. (You have NO IDEA how sad I am that so much fic on Stories of Arda or FFNET is not easily bookmarked on AO3, sob. I externally bookmarked a few of the bigger ones, but sooo many shorter faves are missing from my recs tag.)
CLAMP: - X/Tokyo Babylon legitimately bums me out because it's not a huge fandom and yet so much of what was written was pre-AO3 and lost when CLAMPesque went down or was never brought over from Livejournal, yet this fandom (well, the Seishirou/Subaru pairing) still burns brightly in my heart.
MINOR FANDOMS: Ones that probably only have under 100 bookmarks (often around the 20-30 bookmarks range), but will at least give you a place to start! ANIME/MANGA: Bleach | Cardcaptor Sakura | Dragonball | Finder no Hyouteki/Viewfinder | Katekyou Hitman Reborn! | Kuroko no Basuke | One Piece | Sailor Moon | Madoka Magica | Naruto | Princess Tutu | Trigun | Weiss Kreuz | Yuri!!! on Ice
BOOKS: Chrestomanci | Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint
DRAMAS: Nirvana in Fire | The Untamed -OR- Modao Zu Shi
TV SHOWS/MOVIES: Community | Game of Thrones -OR- ASOIAF | Good Omens | Hannibal | Highlander | The Old Guard | Our Flag Means Death | Stranger Things
VIDEO GAMES: Dragon Age: Inquisition | Final Fantasy 8 | Genshin Impact | Okami
BANDS: Arashi
All right, whew, that was actually a fun project, despite how much work it was to hunt down a lot of older faves to see if they were on AO3, hopefully you'll find this useful!
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wonwoonlight · 10 months
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dear autumn / jeon wonwoo
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➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)
➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au
➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍🏻‍♀️) // playlist🎶
➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think
➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf
In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what. Alternatively, He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.
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Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.
They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.
They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.
He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so. 
It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.
The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.
Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.
He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.
It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.
Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.
Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.
Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.
…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.
Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.
It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself. 
He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…
“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.
“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”
“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”
“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”
“Got it.”
Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.
“Are you throwing this away too?”
Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.
“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.
Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.
Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.
And maybe…
Maybe he’ll also–
“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”
Yeah.
Maybe.
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Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.
The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.
By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight. 
Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.
So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.
And he doesn’t mind.
He really doesn’t.
But if there’s anything he could wish for…
He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.
Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.
He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.
I hope I can find you… whoever you are.
He dreams of another memory that night.
But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.
He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.
Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.
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Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.
It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.
He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.
Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.
So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.
Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.
It’s all just practical.
But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.
Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.
Memories.
Because no matter what–
“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.
Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.
What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.
At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs,  still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.
Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.
He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.
Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.
Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.
Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.
He blinks.
Why… had he not considered that before?
Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–
“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”
Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.
“Autumn?”
Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.
It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.
And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.
Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.
“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”
You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.
Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.
Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.
“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.
The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”
“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.
“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name. 
Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?
You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.
On Soulmates: Love without Commitment
Xu Minghao
You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.
“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”
“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”
You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.
“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”
You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.
“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”
Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”
“Fate and destiny?”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’s bullshit.”
He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.
“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”
He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.
“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”
“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”
Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.
“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.
What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.
It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.
You shrug, not offering any explanation.
He doesn’t press.
“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”
You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.
You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.
You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.
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Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.
You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.
You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.
You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.
It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.
There was nothing magical about it.
You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.
Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?
What a fucking drama you live in.
“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”
“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.
You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.
You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.
You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)
But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.
The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.
He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.
Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? 
You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.
“Should we go out?”
“Where?”
“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.
Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?
His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.
No.
He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.
That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before. 
Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.
You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.
“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes. 
His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.
“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow.  “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.
Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.
It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.
He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.
Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks. 
“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.
“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.
“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”
“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”
You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face. 
But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.
He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.
Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.
Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.
Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.
“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”
Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.
“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”
“Two is fine.”
“And the usual drink?”
“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”
You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.
Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.
Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.
Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.
What the fuck.
“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”
You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.
“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.
“Hey, I–”
Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.
He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.
But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.
He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.
What even is the situation?
He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.
It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.
Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.
What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.
He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.
He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.
He doesn’t even know that was possible.
Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.
But he knows he’s not that special.
He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.
Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.
Is this the work of the universe too?
Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.
You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.
It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.
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Wonwoo has always liked the number three.
Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.
It’s fun.
Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city. 
He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.
So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.
Anyway.
He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.
He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.
It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.
He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.
Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).
Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.
Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.
He doesn’t ask.
“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”
Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.
“What kind of bar?”
“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”
“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.
Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.
The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week. 
After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.
Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.
The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.
It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.
They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.
“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”
Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”
Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.
A subtle one, though.
“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”
“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”
He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.
And she still has to be friends with him.
He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.
Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.
Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.
“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”
Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.
“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”
Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.
“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”
She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.
“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.
Even if it’s only a little.
“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”
Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.
“Sucks to be us.” 
It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.
“Sucks to be us.”
His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.
Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?
He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.
How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.
Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.
Fuck, he’s down bad.
In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.
He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.
That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.
“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”
He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.
Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.
“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.
He needs to get away.
“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.
“Are you by yourself?”
“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”
You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.
“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.
It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.
“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”
He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”
It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.
Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.
Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?
But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread. 
“Here, have this.”
That’s why. You think to yourself.
Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.
You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.
“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”
He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.
Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.
The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.
You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.
“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”
“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”
He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”
“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”
He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?
“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”
You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”
His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.
“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping  that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.
“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”
“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.
“They’re too… cheesy.”
“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”
“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.
“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all. 
He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.
But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.
So he lets go.
Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you. 
Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.
This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.
He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.
“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.
“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”
“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.
“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.
Because you don’t know. 
You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.
Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.
But you were never that excited.
It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.
“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”
Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.
“Sorry?”
“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”
You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud. 
You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.
But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend. 
So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.
Yeah.
That’s how you’ll go down this road.
“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”
“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.
“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”
You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.
And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.
Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.
What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying. 
It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?
He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.
It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you���re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.
“Won–”
“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”
“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline. 
“But your soul–”
“Wonwoo, please?”
It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.
It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?
It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be. 
The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.
It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.
It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.
You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?
“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”
He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.
“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”
Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.
“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”
True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.
“Here, drink this.”
“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.
But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?
“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.
“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.
He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”
Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.
Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.
He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.
But you?
You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.
How would you feel if you knew?
Would you freak out?
Would you hate him for hiding it?
Would you think he was planning something against you?
Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?
“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”
Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.
“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”
It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?
“Did you… know me in your past life?”
Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“As honest as you can be.”
“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”
“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.
“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.
It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.
“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”
It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.
You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.
It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it. 
The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.
And then there was that dream.
Wait.
Right, that dream. 
Is that dream…?
“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”
It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.
“H–how?”
“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”
“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”
“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”
“I see…”
You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.
Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?
You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.
You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.
“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.
“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”
“But–”
“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”
“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”
“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.
“Do you love me?”
Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.
“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”
“Do you love me?”
“Look–I…”
“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”
Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.
“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other. 
If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?
You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.
“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”
“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”
“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.
“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also. 
“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.
Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.
“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”
You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.
“So what do you suppose we should do?
“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”
“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”
Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.
For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?
But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.
You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.
Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.
You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.
When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.
He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.
“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”
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Wonwoo waits.
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.
There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.
He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.
He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.
But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.
Like his dreams.
Like his memories.
He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.
The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.
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Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.
The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.
You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.
“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest. 
“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”
“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.
He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.
Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.
“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”
Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him. 
But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.
You couldn’t.
That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.
“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.
“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head. 
“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”
“Wait–burning?” 
“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.
“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”
The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.
“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.
“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”
“No pain, at all?”
You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.
“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”
“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”
“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”
“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”
Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder. 
“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”
You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.
“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.
It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”
From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.
How could Joshua say that in his position?
For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.
But where does this leave the two of you now?
“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”
You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.
“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”
“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.
“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.
“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?
“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”
“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime. 
“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”
“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”
“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”
He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.
“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.
Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.
“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.
“What have?”
“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”
“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”
He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.
“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”
“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.
It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.
“Are we really doing this?”
“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”
You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.
“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”
“I’m really–”
“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”
“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”
Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.
“Fuck the universe, indeed.”
It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.
Wonwoo grins.
His Autumn is finally here.
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©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.
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pls tell me if you wanna be removed btw it's totally ok, no hard feelings!!
A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕
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asksythe · 11 months
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Hey just read your lovely hands fanfic and the concept of the blood pool being a prison for malevolent entities barred from the cycle of reincarnation is so COOL , is it a thing implied between the lines and we western audiences lack the cultural context to recognise it ?, or is it something you came up with if so can I have permission to incorporate the concept into my own fan works?
It is a cultural thing. It's not even implied in the novel. It's just outright stated. But it's one of those hundreds of tiny cultural details that probably fly over the head of the international audience.
Remember when the Wen people came back as bloody corpses to protect Wei Ying and fought back the fierce corpses riled up by the repaired Yin Hufu?
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In this part, the novel describes the events following the first Sige of the Burial Mound. After the hundred cultivator houses slaughtered these defenseless elderlies, women, and children, they threw their corpses into the blood pool, thus forever barring them from reincarnation.
The phrase the novel uses is 永不超生 (lit. to never again be reborn, to be barred from the cycle of reincarnation forever). That's not a figure of speech. The novel is being literal. The Burial Mound itself is already a prison for all kinds of undead and ghost wraiths. The blood pool, by the novel descriptions, amounts to a maximum security cell. A ghost in the Burial Mound can eventually let go of their grudge/resentment and enters the afterlife/reincarnation. But anybody thrown into the blood pool doesn't have this option.
永不超生 is commonly portrayed in Chinese culture as a punishment by the authority of the underworld. That's not a judgment that a mortal is allowed to make.
The fact that the Hundred Houses carried out 永不超生 on the Wen is a detail that speaks of both their arrogance and their awareness of their guilt.
The Hundred Houses are well aware what they did to the Wen remnants is a sin. The custom of the time is, if you profess yourself to be the righteous side and slay someone seen as 'evil/villain,' it's customary to hang their corpses up for all to see.
Remember Nie Mingjue beheading Wen Xu and hanging Wen Xu's head at the gate of Uncleam Realm for all to see? NMJ is not doing that just because he has a vendetta against the Wen. He's doing that as part of ancient customs to declare to all that 'his kill is righteous,' that he doesn't need to hide it, and that Wen Xu and the Wens are villains that need to be put down.
That's the principle. Justice has no need to hide.
But not only did the Hundred Houses hide the corpses of the Wen remnants, but they also imprisoned their souls, hoping that would keep the Wen from coming back as grudge wraiths or for the karmic cycle itself to snap back for this sin.
The Hundred Houses built up the Wen remnants to be this evil army at Wei Ying's beck and call. So they need to be put down. But the truth is that they were just a bunch of elderlies, women, and children who spent all their lives being doctors (as they belong to the Qihuang branch, with their own pacifistic philosophy).
Had the Hundred Houses performed the custom and showed their supposedly righteous kill to the world, then the truth would out. That they were either liars or stupid, and that they best be prepared to repay for their transgression on both innocent Wens and on the authority of hell itself.
And that, my friend, is why the second Burial Mound Siege ended the way it did, and why the vast majority of those same cultivators left Wei Ying alone afterward. What do you think those same cultivators think when their victims break out of the supposedly unbreakable maximum security cell to save Wei Ying (another of their victims)? And then those same Wen souls entered the afterlife?
The Western vernacular for this part is: Karma is a tenacious bitch with a long memory. It doesn't matter how much they lie about their crime and act like they are righteous or how good they think they hide the proof of their deeds. Heaven and hell itself are watching.
....Sorry, I have some strong feelings about the treatment of the Wen remnants.
That is to say, feel free to incorporate it in your works.
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otakuworks · 1 year
Text
❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au
feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART II | wc. 5.4K
Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' webtoon | overview. This Webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.
sum. You were running too fast in life, so fast that no one could catch up, not even Morax who left you to fend off with your curse. Just when you thought you'll slip and fall, a certain consultant came behind and caught you.
cw. mentions of extreme emotion breakdown. cttro 双niarss on Twitter for the art below.
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main m.list genshin m.mlist
PART I < PART II
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THEME SONG; Slump by Stray Kids (English Version)
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There are five stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. All in order.
In your case, it was the other way around. You have long accepted Morax will lay on his deathbed one day, every living thing will eventually cease to exist, mortal and immortal alike
You, out of all people know the in-depth concept of death.
And yet, no amount of tutelage or experience can prepare you for the real thing.
Now you understood what Morax felt when you died.
Your chest feels raw like there's a sudden gash wound that has manifested in your heart. It was painful, too painful that you wouldn't wish it upon anyone, even on your worst enemy.
Scratch that. It's not just pain. It feels something more destructive, demanding and insatiable, crueler than sorrow. Not even death can appease this feeling.
It was agony.
Impale your abdomen with a spear hundred times. Sever your limbs every lifetime. Suffer for all eternity hiding behind Morax and watch him love with someone else over and over again— you'd take them all and say thank you.
You'd be grateful and endure each of them just to trade whatever horrible feeling that's tearing you apart.
Confusion, terror and fright blanketed your mind as you slumped on the floorboards, desperately gasping for breath.
The acrid smell of snarling lightning crackles in the stale midnight air, sharp enough to singe every nerve of your body, rendering you cowering in overwhelming emotions— agony, pain and grief.
Inazuma was bustling with the news of the Geo Archon passing away recently. You could only imagine how Liyue is digesting the cruel twists of events.
The news spreads fast enough for foreign people to sympathize to Liyue citizens, some even offered prayers to the Raiden Shogun, some pay their respects by wishing the late Archon to rest in peace, some never bothered to care.
But none of them mourned in the confinements of their four walls as you did, the Celestia above knows the quiet sobs that wrecked the very core of your existence. The horrors of every shitty lives you went through cannot be compared to this day.
Rex Lapis, who is— was widely known for many names, mostly as the Geo Archon, God of War, God of Contracts, Former Prime Adepti, the Stonebreaker, God of History is now reduced by dust with his people carrying the legacy he has passed on.
To you, all this time, he's still... Morax the petulant child who leans on you for comfort, who politely demands you to sing a lullaby as kids. You're already sold to the idea no one would ever believe you if you told them what embodiment of mischief he was in the ancient times, the exact opposite of the Archon they knew about.
Nostalgia hits you in particular days you can't find traces of the young Morax, but Pride would caress your heart every achievement he succeeds as you watch the people love him.
Similar to a lone planet, you desperately search for a star to orbit around, to give you a source of energy and strength. Once you find one, it'll be difficult to rearrange your position after you have settled down, you're attached until the star loses its amber glow.
And now the star is gone. Gone with the cosmos after a supernova.
Destroying the neighboring planets, including you.
You were the closest in its orbit, you're the one who had to endure the scorching flames morphing you into ashes until you're reduced into cosmos particles for no one to remember.
Morax left you to fend off with your curse and face adversities alone.
Mortals would succumb to these adversities and would choose to sever their connection to the living to escape from everything. You've seen a handful of them and can't ever get enough of it.
If there's anything you long to have other than having Morax beside you is a swift escape.
Every mortal is capable of such thing, you are too, but it's pointless if the pain will cling to you in your next life. It's fruitless to cry when you know every affliction won't be forgotten even if you tried.
Just why?! Why do I have this perpetual curse of reincarnation? I abhor you, Celestia! Not only you cursed me, you even took away Morax from this land!
You shake your head as the anger surge took over your sanity. You thought you can just go live your merry life, unbeknownst how dependent you were to Morax.
Your will to live is solely operated by the fact you have someone you want to protect. But now he's gone? What's the back up plan? Clearly you can't just follow him in his death knowing you can die, but your memories will remain with you.
Was it out of selfishness to protect him to have someone accompany your lonely soul? Because he's the only one who actually remembers the real you?
Rain began to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard disembodied voices theorizing Morax's death. The muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of today's unsavory news. How convenient, the sky is sympathizing.
No, make it stop! I don't want fo hear any of it! Morax is dead, that's how nature works. I'm griefing because it hurts, not because I have nothing to live for.
You lived in that illusion for minutes until. . .
*drip* *drip*
. . . the dam broke.
Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the pain would stop, just numbing it would be fine too. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time, and sat there unmoving.
There's no see you later's anymore, for Morax has left you. Today has marked your first Goodbye to him.
For an indiscernible amount of time, there was only a black void and it could have been as if you didn’t exist and you had never existed.
And then you felt each of your cells that had been ripped apart within seconds be sewed back together just as quickly, and your eyes met nothing but a blinding white light.
Have I reborn again? You're not aware which is which anymore. You lift your numb hand and reality crashed over your head, you haven't died out of grief, yet.
Your mind is in havoc, you don't know what you want, not that you have any choice.
Dying won't help you escape, forgetting is not an option, loving. . . can't heal an open wound.
No words can equate the absolute devastation you feel.
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❖ ── ✦ ── 『 6000 YRS AGO 』 ── ✦ ── ❖
This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous!
What kind of mortal would go in the mines in the middle of the night where monsters lurk in the shadows to hunt for preys? Yeah, that's a question he would like for you to answer!
He flies twice the speed he usually exerts, his mind running rampant of all worst possible scenarios.
He doesn't know what compelled you to do such ridiculous act, but all he knows is he has get to you before any monsters do.
Landing unceremoniously, he gulps at the sight before him. He was never a fan of darkness, it never fails to instill fear in him, the fear of the unknown.
The only time he feels comfortable in the night is whenever you're around him. You don't fear the night, and it somehow influenced him in a way that there's nothing that should be afraid of as long as you're with him— as his human shield.
Young Morax finds himself slowly withdrawing, the fear overpowering his will to come and save you.
"Morax? What are you doing out here?" Saved by the gracious voice of yours, young Morax nearly broke his neck with how fast he looked at your direction.
Your face is contorted out of concern for him, he's sweating profusely and his breathing is ragged.
Just seeing you all in one piece with no signs of injuries made hin slumped on the ground, sighing in relief.
You were at his side seconds later, subconsciously caressing his cheeks. Celestia above! He's shaking like a leaf!
"It's alright, let's get you out of here." Your soothing voice appeased his troubled mind as you helped him get back on his feet. He clutches the fabric of your shirt and wordlessly launches himself on you, arms and tiny tail entrapping you in an embrace.
You waste no second reciprocating the gesture, you've known him for months to be comfortable with physical sentiments. Though you can't say the same to him as he would always flinch away when you initiate it, but has no problem when he does it.
And it seems like he needs your comfort to even give a damn.
"Whatever it is, it can't hurt you now okay?"
From that angle, he peered from below you as if confirming the validity of your words, amber eyes looking like someone has kicked an innocent puppy, it's no wonder you have a soft spot for him.
Both of you strayed away from the caves leading to mines, "I-I thought you l-left me." He meekly mumbled, almost incoherent.
That baffles you as he continues, "I overheard f-from your village that m-monsters are increasing in the area and you're probably..."
"Shh... I'm here now, aren't I? I'm sorry you have to hear that, I can assure you I haven't encountered any marauding monsters during my little excursion." You sighed, guilt pooling your conscience.
He sniffled, "So, you're not going to leave me?"
"Can I even go anywhere when you have a sharp sense of smell?"
"I'm a dragon, not a wolf." He whined, though you could still see the glint of dubious in his eyes, "Can I trust your word?"
Words never served him better than actions, you ought to show him you honor your word by affirming it through gestures.
Smiling, you offered your hand to him.
"How about you hold my hand on our way home? Will that help?" He stares at you and literally contemplated before he relented.
It's warm, much similar to your hug, but like a form of hug that has been reduced to a smaller fraction. It's still a paragon of comfort.
Surely enough, it did help his mind to be at ease. If you ever feel like he's cutting off your circulation, he is cutting your circulation by intertwining your fingers as if trying to tangle it so it won't loose.
"I'm sorry, you must think I'm stupid for cowering away just because of some stupid dark cave." He lowered his head in shame.
He's a Dragon who has greater strength than most beings, and yet he lets his fear consume him as if they can hurt him like how—
"Nonsense! Don't ever think like that or I will personally be the reason why you should fear humans." As stern as you sound, your eyes tell a different story.
Young Morax deduced this as concern, which resulted a flustered and heartwarming reaction from the boy. You were worried for him.
It shouldn't be something he's supposed to feel happy about, but your fretful intentions warranted warmth and security in his mind.
"I didn't know how oddly. . . pleasant it is to hold hands." He mused, and you responded with an amused giggle, "Here I thought only couples do this stuff, but it's really reassuring."
"It does, doesn't it? Sometimes the solution to your conflicts is in a form of validation."
Too wise for a kid, he inwardly complained, ". . .Meaning?"
You hold his other hand and stood to face him with a sequined smile, "No matter how minuscule or massive your fears are, you'll still find comfort when someone validates your feelings; to let you know that they care. It may not be the solution in some cases, but it's better than being alone in times of your vulnerability."
You leaned slightly closer, "Can I ask you a favor?" Your gaze pierced right through his soul and he can only nod absently which resulted for you to grin.
"If you see someone, friend and stranger even enemies, looking so vulnerable that they actually might cry. . ." You lifted your intertwined hands with his, ". . .Make them feel significant."
A cold midnight wind whisked past the both of you, your eyes shone brighter than jewels and stars alike as you spoke those words that made a huge impact in his life.
". . .Even if my enemies are about to cry because I'm about to end their miserable lives?"
What a way to ruin the moment.
"You know what I mean, Mora." You deadpan, preparing to let go of his hand, but his grip is much stronger and it only tightens once he feels you're trying to detach.
"I'm afraid you have to elaborate further, Y/N. And please, I only have two syllables in my name. What's so hard in including the X?" In contrast to his words, he quite enjoys hearing his nickname.
"The X is not even a syllable, Mora."
That time, young Morax found peace.
He's always on the hunt for something new, something glimmering, something incredible, something undiscovered and something bedazzling. That's how his childlike brain thinks and he seizes anything outwardly beautiful.
But he never knew how amazing it was to see something— or rather, to see someone's beauty on the inside.
Perhaps that's what draws him to you, because of your voice, patience and understanding. He would never admit it though
To him, you're beautiful inside and out, almost perfect, even your flaws are easy to love.
He can't deny he wasted a few immortal years just mourning your death, you'd probably scold him.
Within those years, he's only reliving the memories and wise words you have with him. He wanted to come out as a better person after your death, take it as an honour of your passing.
You made him for what he is.
If he hadn't met you he'd still be the intolerable, impatient and disrespectful person as he grows up.
He'd still fear the unknown, never having the courage to take risks and accept whatever outcomes.
Everything he does always brings him back to you, his actions always correlates to something that's relevant about you. It had always been you.
He prays the Celestia to let you know you will always be apart of his person. Yes, you died, but every lingering piece of you still remains intact in the deep recesses of his mind.
He has moved on, but you remain the person he loved the most. Not even the sands of time has the capability to change that.
"How disastrous. People can be really simple-minded." Morax rubbed both of his temples once he heard the speculation of him and Guizhong plausible relationship.
"I apologize on their behalf, it never crossed my mind they'll be quick to make assumptions." The fair Goddess bowed in shame.
"You have done nothing wrong to spark such rumors, Guizhong. If anything, it is I who should seek forgiveness for I have tied you down with such unpleasant gossips."
She meekly chuckles, "If we're going to paint ourselves as the culprit then we might as well work together to quell the rumors."
His perfectly lined eyebrows knitted, which didn't go unnoticed by Guizhong, "What seems to be troubling your mind?"
A few seconds ticked by before he let out a whisper that only Barbatos can only hear thanks to his wind. For Guizhong who has keen sense of hearing, "If Y/N was here I'll gear up for another war just to extinguish this spreading rumors." She stifled a laugh.
Oh, she knows alright. She knows you. She knows the person who captivated Morax's heart, it's all about he talks to her in their leisure time and you're not a secret between their comrades.
Most people would find it dull to listen about someone's life unless it held any merit to pass onto the other mouth, she would too. But Morax describes you like a protagonist of a fairy tale, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence that racked his existence— which makes you an interesting person
She was so eager to meet you, it was rather unfortunate that you've already passed on uncountable years ago.
"Where are you going?" She inquired as the Geo Archon whisk passed her, "Out to visit an old friend. I won't be returning until tomorrow dawn."
She sighed, a corresponding smile soon follows as she took over his job for the meantime.
Morax walked through the barren areas in Mt. Tianheng, it became part of his leisure activities during the day when his mind needs to detach itself from reality and let himself be swayed by the memories he tucked in the deep recesses of his mind.
Memories of his late comrades who perished in the horrors of war and the most painful but nostalgic one; Y/N.
He ruefully sighed at the thought of you. Even in death, you have full grasp of his heart and shroud his head with your image.
Filtered beams of light accented the spaces between the ancient trees that twisted like spires from the undergrowth. Golden leaves littered the forest floor as Morax appraised the trail of mycelium path, one leading to a particular tree.
His expression remains unchanging, at least that's what he thought, any stranger sees him they'll stop to ponder what made this godly man smile so fondly.
A single maple leaf flow with the breeze, swaying in inconsistent direction until it falls in his gloved hand. The rich color of autumn and texture brings him back in his youthful days.
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"Ah! All I do is reminisce to pass time." He muttered to himself as he let the leaf get carried away by the zither winds once again.
"It certainly has been awhile, Y/N. I was but a petulant child since I've visited you. I now stand here as the Geo Archon." It has been a habit to come back to this specific tree and treats it as his home.
It's a sacred place he's closely attached to, he can perfectly picture his young self failing to spy on you. He grimaced at the memory when he was caught in the act.
"I still have no idea why you let me trail your shadows, you weren't least afraid that I'm a dragon. You told me you're fascinated, but. . . was that the only reason?"
Only the breeze answered for him with nothing, "If you hadn't allowed me to do so I do not know what kind of person I would be as of today." He steps closer and pulled off his hood.
He let the silence hang for minutes, maybe even hours. Just standing there as he appreciates what nature has to offer in the place where his story began with you.
"Are you proud of me? My comrades claimed they were more than proud to stand alongside with me, but I doubt the veracity of their words when I led them to their demise. Is it that prideful to have me as a friend when I bring nothing but misfortune?"
He finally sat down between the roots of the tree, relishing the blissful comfort as the sunlight accentuates his godly features.
"I met a boy who was being manipulated by an evil god who only desires power and selfish gains." He began.
"He was a fierce warrior, strong and capable, the manipulation only fuels him to be at his strongest form. I was thinking of eradicating him, but his eyes already looked so dead. It reminded me of. . ."
He holds his tongue and shuts his eyes as he's in pain, "It would be one of my greatest regrets if I had impaled my spear into him."
"I thought of you that time. Hadn't it been to my promise to you, I wouldn't have gained a new ally. Xiao is his name."
The wind blew stronger, ". . . I forgot you can summon him just by calling out his name." He chuckles to himself.
Green statics cracked into the air and quickly revealed a masked man with his polearm readied for any danger.
"Settle down now. I apologize, your name slipped in my mouth." The young Yaksha visibly looked confused even under the layers of his mask.
"I was narrating a story to my old friend Y/N."
Guizhong couldn't have been more right.
By the end of the day, Xiao now knows every detail there is to know about the person called Y/N. It's what Morax ever talk to him.
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"Mr. Zhongli is in a very elated mood ever since you told him Archon knows what, Traveler." Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor finds the situation quite absurd to look at, but never impossible. His mood just feels out of place.
Who looks at mournful families with an eccentric smile on their face as they consult them about their loved one's death?
"Why does Paimon feel like you're pointing finger at the traveler?" She puts her tiny hands on tiny her hips like a mother hen.
The Traveler let out a nervous laugh, "I wonder what exactly brought him in such high spirit with my words."
"Ooh... Paimon thinks it's about Y/N. Isn't it obvious by now?" Hu Tao furrowed her eyebrows, "Y/N? You mean the Adventurer?" Both heads snapped at her direction, "You know them?"
She reluctantly shrugged, "Only at acquaintance level. They showed interest in business and I taught them a few things." She smiled at the epilogue of her statement.
"If they ever come back, my hunch tells me you'd find them in Wangshu Inn, they frequented there before." She added before turning her attention to a new customer.
Zhongli, who's been eavesdropping, perked up at the claims. Perhaps he should visit Xiao tonight and totally won't inquire if he ever met you before.
Midnight falls and Zhongli bid his farewell to the traveler before heading towards the Wangshu Inn.
For some unknown reason, Zhongli could sense the foreboding feeling that's nagging his instincts as he gets closer to his desired destination, yet he doesn't stop. What's worse is that he doesn't know if it's for the good or bad.
All of a sudden, a harsh breeze blew past his face as if the winds attempting to convey a message that's only for his intuition to decipher, for him to meander.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his statue glowing bright blue, but that wasn't what caught his attention. A hand reached out to touch the stone statue.
A mop of [H/C] facing him backward bowed down in respect of the late Rex Lapis, but Zhongli could feel a much more intense feeling.
Something stirs inside him, he remembers this situation— when he watched Y/N with such fascination from above the tree, not knowing what they look like, yet they never fail to express their feelings through threaded words he finds so wondrous to hear.
In contrary to that, the person appears to be. . . forlorn. He stepped closer until he's only less than five meters away from them.
All of a sudden, he feels skittish around the person. It's as if he doesn't want to leave a bad first impression, he's suddenly self-conscious of his looks, and Zhongli never cared about his outer appearance.
Then they spoke, in a solemn voice.
"See you later, Mora. I hope you found your eternal peace."
There are times when you wish you'd forget Morax, some that you don't. But still, in the birth of new beings, you will find Morax in his next life. The prospect of being alone is a phobia you can't ever overcome unless you have Morax.
What a joke. It should've been a farewell. Your final goodbye to your old friend. Not a hopeless see you later.
It took you months to come with that mindset, only to end up saying what's the exact opposite.
It was difficult to come back in Liyue, every step adds a new pile of memory that drags you further into the depths of agony. Every where you look reminds you of the late Geo Archon. Each encouraging word in your mind gets trampled on by his image.
You consider it as an achievement to stand tall in front of his statue after his death, and a failure that you didn't get to bid your final words to him before you depart from Liyue.
You're still clinging to a nonexistent hope that you'll actually get to see him even after your death. Old habits die hard they say. It couldn't have been more relatable than now.
Sighing in disappointment, you retracted your hand from the statue and briskly turn around when you felt the disturbance behind you.
A gloved hand suspended in the air seems to be trying to reach out to you. As you raise your eyes to meet the oh-so-familiar glowing amber eyes that you grew to love. . .
You offered the stranger a faux smile, seemingly naive to the person standing in front of you with an aghast expression.
You failed to realize Morax as Zhongli just as Morax failed to realize you in your different lives.
"Hello. How may I help you?"
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Time has stopped, both hands of the clock moved counterclockwise, bringing him back to the time he first laid his eyes on you— so unsuspecting from what's about to unravel after a sweet hello.
His broadened eyes are solely fixated on you, it ingnited a feeling he couldn’t immediately identify, a sense of a certain and long-forgotten familiarity fogged his memory.
From the color of your eyes, skin and hair. The subtle furrow of your eyebrows and the upturn of your lips. The gentle facade that compelled him to indulge his curiosity towards you.
Y/N. . . Are you the Y/N the traveler was talking about?
But you bare no resemblance to the Y/N he knew, yet he can tell how it is your soul residing in the mortal's body. It is you. Your eyes aren't the ones that welcomed him as new friend. It feels different.
You're smiling while your eyes are grieving.
Your eyes failed to conceal your weeping soul and could only hope the last bits of its strength will keep it standing until someone reach a hand to put back the shattered pieces.
Behind that gleeful stare was a mountain of pain and extracting it would bring instability to the person who would dare to climb. Yet come what may, you're always worth any risk.
He lowered his hand to shake yours, his lips upturned into an enigmatic smile.
Your heart went erratic and the usually dormant butterflies imploded in your stomach. You haven't felt like a teenager since. . .
You felt your breath hitch in your throat when suddenly, with a mere handful of strides, the beautiful man was standing right in front of you, his amber eyes searching your face intently, trying to find whatever it was he was seeking.
"My name is Zhongli, I'm a consultant in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor." Your [E/C] eyes blinked surreptitiously before accepting it. What a beautiful name, you thought almost immediately.
Under normal circumstances you would've strictly reprimanded the man with his incongruous advances, but you felt something else, something so powerful it overshadowed your senses.
It was a need, an unyielding need to be close to him.
Rather than pushing him away, something inside you stirs awake and begin to implore to coalesce with his existence.
"I'm Y/N L/N, an adventurer."
So it is really you.
He briefly looks down to their intwined hands.
For countless nights, the image of your bloodied hand reaching out to him as you take your last breath plagued his every dream. The tender, soft hands that will no longer bring him comfort. The hand of the person whom he loved so dearly, whom he failed to protect against the wicked ways of the world.
The intense urge to hide you away from the prying eyes that shared similarities to his kept his mind in shambles.
Which what led him to mumble to you what his thoughts are repeating like a mantra.
When he spoke the promise he'll show you what's up at the highest altitude his wings could go, he was mostly speaking out of his selfish desire to hold onto your hand and fly you away to the farthest place no living creatures have ever stumbled upon.
He had to learn it the hard way; that the greater you wish for something, the crueler fate can be. Maybe if he hadn't been so greedy you could've live your mortal life.
Now that you are standing in front of him, shaking your hand, he can amend his mistake by straying far away from you before he repeats history itself, before he could inflict pain on you again.
And yet, looking at you attempting to shoulder the boulders of life is what all it takes for all the wisdom he garnered for centuries to be thrown out the window.
He can't imagine himself distancing from you when you're suffering and have no one comfortable enough to share your burdens with, no one to validate your feelings, no one to embrace you in your vulnerable times.
You taught him to be compassionate, to not disregard emotions, and he's about to set that in motion. You were there when he needed you the most, offered your shoulder to vent out his feelings, it's about time to let him do what you always did for him.
It became abundantly clear he's not willing to let you go through anything alone just like he had gone through without you.
"You claim you're a consultant. Did you perhaps think I'm a potential customer?"
He let go of your hand as much as he loathes being away from your warmth for even just a second, he's still convinced you can be taken away from him at any given moment.
"Indeed, I couldn't stand idle and watch you grieve alone." He watches how you averted your eyes as if hiding the pain would appease your mind.
"I appreciate the thought. . . though, I highly doubt it'll be effective."
He mentally chuckled at the irony. He, too, was once amazed of what simple gestures can bring to a downhearted person.
"Hmm. An old friend once showed me how to console a person. Allow me to share their insights."
Your eye brows perched in curiosity, this man speaks like he's in his 50s or something, ". . .If you insist. I could use a company for now."
Morax experienced eons of desires to attain what he wishes to, though he refrains from being blinded by those greedy thoughts as he had witnessed how cruel fate can be when he once desired to have you. Will history repeat itself?
Zhongli chortles in response, but his expression soon turned nostalgic, "I may not know what adversities you're facing nor do I know who you are, but know that you're never alone."
His smile never left his face as he takes off his glove and held the palm face forward to you, he watches how your eyes glisten with unshed tears, "W-What is that supposed to convey?"
You didn't even notice how much gap he closed just to increase the proximity between the both of you. Archons! You can smell the lingering scent of Osmanthus Wine mingling with his breath!
Is he a drunkard like Venti?
Perhaps this man is drunk to comprehend his actions, perhaps he won't remember this the never next day, perhaps he has mistaken you for someone else, perhaps—
"Wherever you wish to go, I'll keep you company. I dare ask if I may hold your hand along the way, Y/N?"
Perhaps there's hope you can cling onto until your aching heart is at ease.
Your hand found its way to his, almost too desperate to not let this moment of comfort vanish. Just this once, you thought to yourself as the man smiled with absolute glee that it puts the sun in shame.
Out of reflex, your fingers laced with his, wanting nothing more than to relieve in the warmth of his hand. His expression soon turned into a priceless one as if he's in disbelief that you actually just did that, and that alone made the realization struck you harder than Raiden's lightning and fried your nerves with embarrassment.
"I-I'm so-sorry! I didn't mean to get too comfortable!"
You're a stranger to him, and you acted as if you've been a longtime friends. He must have been feeling uncomfortable, you nervously thought as you quickly tried reel back your hand in an attempt to salvage whatever budding acquaintanceship you have.
Keyword; tried.
Your action prompts him to retaliate by locking his fingers in place, keeping your hand sealed with his and shot you a reassuring smile.
"Do not fret. I'm delighted to know I somehow earned a little fraction of your trust. It's only fair to mirror the trust you gave me."
As if to spell out his point, he held up your intertwined hands just below your chin. His eyes blazed with a newfound emotion you couldn't decipher. He almost looks eager. He was gripping your hand, not too tight, but firm enough give emphasize of something.
His action wasn't fruitless as it gained a reaction from you. Your eyebrows twitched, there's something too familiar about it, but your memory refuses to give you that answer.
Instead, you could only mutter weak responses, "I-I understand, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way then don't hesitate to point out what I'm doing wrong."
Whether it was a satisfying answer he wants to hear, his emotions betrayed to even give you a brief answer and his face only lit up as he turns away from you, "You could never do anything wrong in my eyes."
Did he just say something? "What was that?"
"Nothing. Are you new in Liyue? I could give you a tour if you'd like to make you familiarize with the environment."
Your lips turned into a genuine smile, it didn't reach your ears but something tells you this man will lengthen it until you're the happiest person alive, "I'd love to, Zhongli."
As the wind blows to the East, a new chapter has began with a new retelling of their unfinished story. Until the last maple leaf falls and the oldest standing tree drought, two souls will always find their way to rekindle what has been lost.
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>> PART III
─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzarr @katsuissus @tartarsaucechi1de @spyanya @tikitsune @shoujishu @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @xiamuyi @lemonlimesocks @belletifeshyl @alexon-mars @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @orginiallyann @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @kamukayakmonyet @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @yamtwt @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @fauxizs @islxisl @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @akaritenchi @sophiee-bush @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @almighty-raiden-shogunate
(it's my first time doing tags so pls inform me if it's not working, idk why the others are white, did I do something wrong??)
PS. if you want to get tagged for the next part or be removed then simply comment it TAGLIST is for the readers who want to be updated for my future genshin works.
─ 𝐀/𝐍. Can you all smell that? *sniff sniff* I smell a Xiao ver. of this 👀👀 Fr, I didn't expect the fic will be loved that much as I initially thought, I received many appreciative comments and messages which is what motivated me to write part 2, and possibly part 3 (just for the fluff) since this was supposed to be a series but I crossed that idea out until everyone broke my expectation. Thank you💜💙 and merry christmas everyone ❤💚
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pursuitseternal · 4 months
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Hi first of all, I wanted to tell you how much I love your fanfictions I'm always happy to see something new (ascended astarion and astarion spawn stories are my favourites but the others are captivating too). I was wondering if you could write a story where the original Tav dies and is reborn a few hundred years later and Astarion finds her again. Maybe in a more modern setting where the prudery thing isn't quite so… strong
I apologise for my bad English it's not my native language I hope you can understand it anyway
“Mistrial:” a Modern Faerûn AU
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Astarion x Tav |E| 2.5K modern au
Ao3 link
Summary: Hundreds of years without her, Astarion still sits on the bench, Justice Ancunìn hear case after case. Until one day, that young prosecutor gets under his skin, until she confronts him after their trial, until ancient memories stir and things awaken.
A/N: Thank you to @myfavouritelunatic and @brabblesblog for their enabling and encouragement.
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“Justice Ancunìn, I have to object,” the little firecracker of a prosecutor ground her high heel into the tile of the courtroom.
Astarion shook his head, tired of her tone already on day one. “You don’t have to, counselor,” he rubbed two fingers against his silver-haired temple, “but given that this is already your twenty-second one today, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She looked at him with sharp eyes and folded arms. The little shit. He did not care for her already.
If this had been in the good old days when Faerûn was at its prime and most debauched, he could have her flogged for her tone and sent to cool in the stocks. And that would have been before he had been turned into vampiric spawn, before he had become hero of Baldur’s Gate with the love of his life at his side. Helping him learn how to hide his immortality and vampirism from the public, learning how to still serve as Magistrate despite his… condition.
That was until time moved on, and his immortality won over the lingering bonds of love. He missed Tav, her brilliance and ferocity, her pointed ears and sweet blood, her passion in life and in the bed.
Like the blink of an eye, he moved on. City to city, career to career as hundreds of years continued their slow grind of time. Until now, now, he stared down from his bench in BGC, new finagled magic in this modern age like cars and electricity and internet. But law was law, and a judge was a judge
It was as if he never left, aside from the new spitfire attorney, just arrived from New Waterdeep, with a ferocity he would have once admired.
He just now found it tiresome. Irritating. He realized after a moment, she had the decency to wait on his final word on her request for objection. He shifted in his seat, narrowing his eyes at her. “Overruled, Counselor Ylfe.” He banged his gavel twice. “In fact, court adjourned until tomorrow,” he stood grumbling to himself. “At least I’ll be spared a twenty-third objection in so many hours…”
His pointed ears picked up on a high pitched scoff. “We shall see,” that lawyer snipped to herself. But that tone, that defiance and jabbing quality… something piqued his interest.
Stirred his ancient memory.
He finally groaned as he rested in his chambers, only moments after shutting the doors and sliding off those scratchy robes. Gods, he missed silks and wigs and velvets. Not this cheap crap everyone wore. He went to his cabinet, taking out a discrete green bottle and pouring himself a mug of its swirling ruby contents. He popped it in his microwave, one improvement on the campfire he would not begrudge using.
Not when it made his stash of blood warm for once.
But even as it hummed, his mind kept rolling over his day. Especially that stubborn, annoying, irritating prosecutor with her defiant eyes and jutting out chin and crossed arms and swaying, perfect hips, and……
“Justice Ancunìn, I figured you would finally have a moment for us to address how to best proceed civilly in your own chambers,” his head shot up, his gaze narrowed as he watched her stride on into his offices.
Her.
“What in the hells are you thinking, Counselor Ylfe?” he spat, fighting hard from baring his fangs at her. A habit eroded from nearly a millennia of practice almost overturned just at the sight of her. “You know any discourse outside of the courtroom can result in a mistrial?”
“This isn’t about the trial, this is about your abject disdain for me, personally, it would seem.” She did it again, crossing her arms and swaying her hips in that tight little black pantsuit of her hers.
Astarion let his eye wander. There was something about her… not many females cut so fine a figure in trousers, or slacks or whatever the fuck they were now.
Not since… her. The other her in his life. His true love. That was the last time he even gave a woman a second glance.
Her hair hung over her shoulder, but now, up close, he could see two pointed ears peeking through her crown of long and flowing hair. Elf. High elf.
He locked eyes with her, that piercing shade… his mind raced and wandered… flying through ancient history for some, the warmest of memories for him. Emerald Grove, Shadow Cursed Lands, the real Baldur’s Gate…
“Didn’t you hear me, Your Honor?” she snapped at him.
Astarion shook his mess of silver locks, smiling in a way that no longer hid his fangs. “I’m afraid I was… lost in the sea of my long and winding memories… darling….”
That made her freeze solid. Her smooth face drew into an inscrutable expression, her cherry red lips parted… “What did you call me…?”
Only then did he realize the slip of his own tongue, how that pet name he vowed never to use flowed right off of it. “D-darling.” He repeated, as shocked as she was at the impropriety. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ylfe.”
“Don’t be,” she instantly replied with a shake of her head. Then she smiled, even as her brows furrowed. She looked at him, at his pale face and silver hair and… dark brown eyes…. “Have you always worn contacts, Mr. Ancunìn?”
“How…” but before he could interrogate that true suspicion, his microwave dinged.
“You better get your drink, Your Honor…” That lilt in her voice was new, he noted.
“I’ll wait,” he shrugged. “I can always reheat it later. First I’ll have to apologize for my… behavior today.”
“I should hope so,” she grinned, walking around and sitting on the edge of his desk. “Treating a lady with such disdain… only to about face and call her darling the next moment… seems something only a true, black-hearted rogue would do…”
“What?” he went rigid. Bending forward, that old instinct to fight or fly racing through his nerves after centuries.
“I’ve never been a fan of contacts,” she smiled so easily as she leaned back against the top of his desk, fingers splayed on his files and papers. “Better if you just showed the world your natural eyes, Mr. Ancunìn….”
His nostrils flared, his breath racing and head swimming. But this time there was no fucking tadpole, he knew that.
“What’s your name…” he hissed, narrowed eyes leveling at her.
“I can tell you, unless you’re bent on letting your stash of blood from getting cold…. Astarion.”
His hand flew to her neck, bringing her up into his face, fangs bared, hackles raised, every long suppressed vampiric sense firing on all cylinders now as he smelled her. “Name,” he commanded.
“Taveria Ylfe,” she swallowed under his hold. “But those close to me have always called me Tav….”
“Tav,” her name was a gasp in his throat.
“And I know you,” she said, breathy and quick. “I didn’t know how… but there was something about you that made me… unsettled.”
“Twenty-two objections later and you call yourself… unsettled?” he smirked, lightening his hold, but stroking his fingers on her skin.
Her skin.
“Well, darling,” she purred, "lifetimes of perfect memory for our kind, and I should have recognized my lover with the crimson eyes and pointed fangs.”
Astarion shook his head, swallowing the rising ball of emotion that caught in his throat. “I’d cry, but it’ll make my contacts hurt,” he gave a wet laugh. His thumb traced on the side of her neck, two circle marks in her flesh, like moles or scars…
“You found them, the brands I’ve have on my flesh ever since you, Astarion,” she added, eyes batting shut under his touch. “I’ve looked for you in every lifetime, my true love with roguish swagger, red eyes, pointed fangs, and massive…”
She paused, pursing her lips.
“Ego?” he offered as an answer, but she shook her head.
“Cock,” she grinned as she bit her lip.
“I was hoping you’d say that… darling…” He hissed as her hand grasped at the gusset between his legs. “Looking for your evidence?” he growled, a roll of his hips into the pressure of her touch. So ancient and familiar. “You’ll get it, darling, if you want it…”
“I do, Astarion,” she sighed, fingers stroking back and forth on the cotton of his pants, feeling that rising erection instantly straining back.
A monsterous growl in his throat, a burning hunger in his belly, he grasped at the back of her neck, pulling her against his lips.
The age-old dance, the same taste. Closing his eyes, his body transported a millennia ago… as if he could smell blood and woodsmoke and magic in the air mixed with her scent. Had he suppressed so much of his senses he couldn’t recognize her scent? Had he ignored the same beat of her heart in her chest, same musical rush of blood in her veins?
He shook his head to let all that go, realizing her hands already tore through her own blazer and button down, clothing now cast to the floor. Already, she had shimmied off the desk, pressing harder into his kiss. He waited for no further invitation, hands instantly sliding her slacks from her perfect curves, his own clothing suddenly feeling too tight and too abrasive.
Astarion only wanted her skin on him now. After so long. He couldn’t move fast enough, his reflexes had dulled from neglect, his dexterity a fraction of what it once was with her. But it, too, slowly crept back, his hands making quick work of his own clothes.
Suddenly, those fingers remembered the smoothness of her skin, rekindled their dexterity. His hand clawed into her hair, the other stroked down her belly, backing her perfect body to perch on the edge of his desk. The gasp he drew from her lips as he sank two fingers into her folds woke something feral in him, something ancient. Vampiric.
“Tav,” he hissed, nuzzing against the music of her artery, rubbing along the stream of her blood in her neck. “May I, please…”
“Mmm, I want to see your real eyes before you take anything of mine, Astarion,” she purred, arching against him. One hand splayed on the desk behind her, she smirked and watched. Never had anyone removed contacts so quickly, so dexterously.
As he blinked, her heart poured open. That scarlet glare, that tilted head, those mussy silver curls. “I can’t believe it’s you…” she sighed.
His eyes went wide, shining in his unshed tears and well of emotion. “I’m so tired of words, Tav,” he replied, voice cracking with that exhaustion and unbridled desire now. “Just give me all of you, to lose myself in, to lose these long and draining years in, years without you.”
Not another word as said, nothing but the groans of their joining once more, the shudder of their bodies as they fucked, the creaking of the wood beneath her as he slammed his hips against it. Cock buried deep in her cunt, fangs digging into her neck.
Both parts of her were hot and leaking. Blood spilled from his mouth once more—warm and fresh and sweetened with her taste. Arousal leaked into the wood beneath them, her musk and sweat the only perfume he longed to smell.
He swirled his tongue over his bite marks, fresh bleeding wounds that swallowed those scars she was born with. A lasting brand on her skin as she had forever been on his heart, his soul.
He couldn’t bring her close enough to him, fingers clawed into her ass to keep her from sliding away with his frantic thrusts. And she had already wrapped herself around his waist, already scratched up the places of his back that weren’t riddled with scars still. Clutching him tightly to never lose him again.
Their lips were sealed together, locked as they sucked and moved and danced in their ancient kiss, the taste of her blood sending them both reeling into oblivion. She keened as her walls spasmed around his cock, that familiar ripple and beat of her climax pressing against his every wild and erratic thrust.
His forehead resting against her shoulder, the scent of her blood there was the last little push he needed, losing himself in the trembling warmth and comfort and pull of her body. His cock pulsed hard inside her, thrumming against her muscles as he came harder than anything for a thousand years. Forcing his head back up, he locked eyes with her, face twisting and arms shaking as he came. Lips pulled back to show those glistening and reddened fangs.
Her hand braced hard at the back of his neck, keeping her with him as his hips thrust, slowing as he emptied into her. At last he stilled, a foolish, young smile on his gaping lips, lips he licked clean.
He would tell her sometime, how she had made his undead heart remember how to beat and love again twice now. How she brought him back to life over and over again. But with that haze in her eyes, the way she clenched still around his cock, he knew this wouldn’t be the end of their reunion.
Thank the gods.
Lips curling as she met her mouth in a kiss, she drew him in again for more. “I have a hotel…” she whispered.
“And I have a penthouse, darling,” came his instant reply between her ravenous caresses.
“Hmm,” she laughed deep in her throat, their kiss still working slowly, unable to break apart once more. “As long as you keep it cleaner than your tent once was, I accept. Someplace for us until the morning when we return to court…”
His fingers, coated in the scent of her arousal, stayed her mouth. “Tch, surely even a young thing like you knows this will end in mistrial now,” he smirked. “Not even I can think of a clause that allows for lost soul mates to continue in court after such…” he glanced at the mess between their legs, “…debauchery.”
“Oh well,” she feigned disappointment, sliding off to retrieve her clothes. “Worth it…”
Suddenly his arms gripped her, pulling her by the swell of her ass, flush against his naked body one more time. “It’ll be days before either of us must return to court… long, exhausting, pleasure-filled days, darling.”
Tav dove up for his kiss, standing in her tiptoes to meet that smirk that haunted her for centuries. “You better hurry me away to your place, Astarion, or someone will find us here making up for lost time.”
Reluctantly and with a deafening sigh, he relented, busying himself to dress again.
“Oh,” she commented, that taunting tone in her voice, “and don’t think I missed how you never answered it your place was still a mess of chaos again.”
He turned, shaking his head as he refastened his belt. “Well, even if you are disappointed in that regard, I can assure you…” he gave her that look, those half-lidded eyes, that sharpened fanged smirk, “you won’t be left wanting in other regards.”
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banjjakz · 5 months
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final girl: jjk visualkei idol!au x stan!f!reader
author's note: this is a choose-your-own-adventure PWP series. each route will have its own host of chapter-specific warnings, but some general content advisories include: obsession, stalking, elements of horror, codependent/unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, erotic descriptions of death, etc etc please see: main menu for navigation & guide for recommended route order. enjoy ~ ^^
> main menu > guide
[PROLOGUE]
➡ GAME START
The time: three o’clock in the morning. The place: one of Kabukichou’s countless dilapidated venues. The weather: piercingly frigid, biting cold which mercilessly impales your already tumultuous gut. Those in attendance: approximately three hundred other dedicated fans, and – of course – the main act:
Shinjuku Showdown.
As an underground idol group, ShinShow makes no effort to conform to some false overly polished, perfectly airbrushed boy-group image. What sets them apart from the rest of the underground crowd is their steadfast dedication to their unique concept: jujutsu sorcery.
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Allegedly, all members of ShinShow are reincarnated sorcerers from various eras in Japanese history, reborn to entrance thousands with the preternatural capabilities of their musical talent. In this lifetime, they manipulate the cosmos not with mudras, but with peerless performances.
Many so-called stans claim to know their lore inside out; you, however, pride yourself on being a part of the slim majority of the fanbase who has walked with the members since the beginning. You were a fan of each individual member while they were preoccupied in other idol activities before eventually joining together to create ShinShow. This, you are convinced, sets you apart from the swathe of fresh blood clogging up the congested standing pit. Everyone loiters in one single cesspool of quivering, fanatic anticipation. You bet many others feel like prey, yearning to be caught in the captivating gaze of their preferred member. But you’re different. You aren’t prey.
After years of unwavering support including (but certainly not limited to): countless hours spent digitally streaming; months’ worth of paychecks devoted to VVVVVVVVIP Access Packages, pre-releases, physical albums, official merch; and premium music subscription services, you consider yourself the exact opposite of a creature lying in wait, ready to be devoured.
No, you are the one who does the devouring.
Consuming ShinShow content is the closest you have ever come in your miserable life to satiating the empty void weighing you down, siphoning the sleep out of your nights, rendering your few non-work-related phone calls devoid of any real meaning.
Walking with ShinShow has brought you to a new, enlightened state of being. You are cleansed anew each time you have the privilege of breathing in the same atmosphere into which they perspire, passionately entangled in the performance of their morose melodies. Screaming fan chants until your throat bleeds and pricking yourself with arts and crafts supplies in the effort to make your own cheering uchiwa are essential sources from which you derive a tenuous – but nonetheless persistent – will to live.
Supporting ShinShow has become a devotional act. And you are, if nothing else, devout.
Up above head, the house lights are snuffed into nonexistence. An impenetrable darkness asphyxiates all sense of vision and a charged murmur sweeps through the venue. Excitement runs rampant like an epidemic, spreading from phone charm to deco’d polaroid holder to custom-made fan slogan.
It’s time.
As always, you hear them before you see them: the isolated, mournful wailing of an electric guitar echoes throughout the atmosphere, seemingly pulling a shroud over the crowd and commandeering the entirety of your attention to the mysteriously black stage. Soon to follow are the crashing of symbols, the striking of drums, the unnerving thrum of that otherworldly bassline, and last, but certainly not least, the main vocal’s banshee-like shriek.
The show is absolutely charged with some sort of intoxicating misery. This is why you love them above all others – the unique, dreadful energy that pools wherever ShinShow performs is a testament to their unmatched skills as entertainers.
Even in the midst of a taxing live show, there is not a crack in the façade, not a chink in the armor. The drummer, despite pounding away with reckless abandon, displays an unshakable poker face of utter apathy, which would be made somewhat less terrifying if he didn’t have on his usual corpse paint: a white face, powdered and even like a geisha, bisected at the middle with a harsh black line cutting neatly from cheekbone to cheekbone. Even when shouting some of the raunchier, more aggrieved lyrics, his black-painted lips curl rather cutely around the vulgar vowels.
Just as dedicated to his craft, the bassist plucks out morose notes with limp hands and cold eyes, moving his body as a medical examiner might manipulate a cadaver’s stiff limbs. He’s got lanky, black hair with parted bangs brushing his impossibly long, doll-like lashes. Despite his pretty looks, he appears ultimately ghoulish, with a wan complexion, sunken cheekbones, and lips perpetually bitten raw. This is not to say he doesn’t get excited while performing – because he absolutely does! But when he moves, it is with a disconcerting preternatural speed. Is it truly the adrenaline rush of a live performance that moves him? Or does something else entirely occupy his svelte, hollow carcass?
Not to be outdone, the lead singer inspires as much awe as he does fear in the hearts of his catatonic, reverential fans. In stark contrast to his easygoing off-stage countenance, his on-stage persona lets his hair loose. Literally. A smooth, unbroken cascade of obsidian drapes his well-toned form from the crown of his head to the small of his back. Many of his female fans are envious of his well-maintained locks, and rant about this very grievance in pages and pages of obsessive online ramblings. With tastefully gauged lobes, a spear of shocking silver speared through his tongue, and swirls of ink lining the ribbed midsection of his throat, the band’s front man is an unapologetically alternative heartthrob. When he sings, it sounds like he’s trying to resurrect something long dead and gone through sheer force of will. How anything alive or otherwise could resist his siren’s call is an eternal mystery.
And last, but certainly not least, there is the guitarist, who stands a full head taller than the rest of his bandmates and at least twice as wide. What he lacks in the conventionally attractive, youthful bishounen image of most male idols, he makes up for with a physique gifted from above (or below?) itself. His muscles ripple, glistening with sweat and the remnants of many upended water bottles, as he shreds his strings and whips his unruly pink hair in all-consuming, passionate fervor. Out of all the members, he must be the most unapproachable – after all, his concept is that he’s an epochs-old evil curse who used to eat women and children for fun!  If it weren’t for his washboard abs and de facto stage outfits of open-faced robes and shredded T-shirts, you wonder how many fans he would have left to claim.
Before you know it, the performance draws to a close just as suddenly as it had spontaneously combusted into existence! During the final speaking mention, one of the members wields some lethal fan-service: some fan had thrown a pair of fox ears onto the stage. When he decided to not only put them on, but to pose with cute foxlike mannerisms, the gap moe is too much for the audience to handle. The crowd surges forward, and with a complete lack of any kind of barrier or barricade (this is Kabukichou, after all) you are sent flying into the alarmingly solid, wide, warm chest of the imposing security guard. He looks down at you from the tall bridge of his nose, wordlessly impassive save for the slight quirk of amusement that twists his scarred lips. Beefy arms stabilize you, dispelling your disorientation. Each of his large hands respectively span nearly the entire width of your upper arm. Wow. Sure, he looks well into his forties, but you think he could definitely have a shot as some niche-market idol. He’s even got dark fringe and a sharp jawline! The wrinkles aren’t too bad, either…. if you squint, he’s kinda…
Ahh, you have to pull yourself together! Making goo-goo eyes at this random stranger will ruin your chances at catching the encore. Hurriedly, you (not so) politely squirm your way back into the crowd front, a (not so) respectful distance away from the edge of the stage.
As the final chords fade out into the tepid night, you blink back tears of shock. While it is not unusual for you to be moved to weeping at a ShinShow gig, something about tonight feels markedly different. Is it just you, or were several of the members meeting your eye? Each song in the set saw a moment of charged intensity between either the drummer, the bassist, the lead singer, or the guitarist. In every instance, you flushed red-hot with disbelief, with wanton ecstasy at the thought that you were a passing object in their distracted, roaming gaze. The thought is enough to make you more than a little weak in the knees.
Shaking your head, you are forcibly evicted from your reverie when the house lights surge back to life. The show is over. The music is gone. The members have finally retreated backstage. Some audience members file out of the main exit, while others linger behind in naïve hopes of catching just one more glimpse.
What will you do?
➡ Loiter behind the venue.
➡ Sneak backstage.
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