#and then cried even harder through the epilogue

[thepalestrose]

Been watching RWBY with a friend and we finally caught up to V9 and I had to mute myself because I just cried straight through the last four chapters

[codenamesazanka]

UA kids villain arc. Ochako, Shouto, Shoji, Deku Villain arc, in this epilogue.

Not villains as in 'mwahahaha i will evil', but Villain as in someone unwilling to suffer in silence.

The kids, having just gone through a war, are feeling the aftermath. The unreality of going back to school, sitting at a desk, taking notes, raising hands and obediently listening to teachers, after spending months as soldiers in a life-or-death adrenaline hurricane. The sense of absurdity of doing homework again (when had any of this mattered during the war? It's not so necessary, is it? What if I just don't do it?) The strangeness of being treated like a child whose voices and opinions will be overruled by an adult again, after being treated as equals by those same adults during battle. The nightmares, the slow fading aches of injuries, the lingering hyper-vigilance. The anger, the sadness, the fear, all still here; and the overwhelming mix of other emotions of all sorts they can't put words to - because who can describe what they went through? - and so it gets bottled up. Maybe even just the boredom and frustration of normal life after truly living out the wildest heroic dreams.

But it's back to school, back to being children, back to being model students who are bright and cheerful and excelling and have only one path ahead of them - to be Heroes.

Ochako, wanting to keep her promise to Toga to give blood, only to be told to forget it. What was she thinking anyway, saying that to a Villain? Offering to do such a taboo, inhuman thing? Ochako missing school on days she feels sick and in pain, as if the knife was still in her stomach. Her grades are slipping; she better shape up if she wants to graduate. Can't she just try harder?

Shouto having to brave the unending whispers and the stares. That's the boy related to both Dabi and Endeavor. I hear the mother is also from some backwards village clan. What a family. Goes to show that it's just in the blood. Better stay away from him. I know he helped save us but... Shouto trying to visit his father and brother, trying to help with the legal process, and being told it's better for his future if he gives up on them. Cut his ties best he could. Why would he want to keep associating with them? He's a good person.

Shouji told to keep it up. He shined so brightly at the hospital. He's the spokesman the heteromorphs need - now keep them in line. Tell them change is coming, just be patient. First there's rebuilding. Then there's the economy. Then Heroes need trust built up again, so they need to be in the spotlight, they gotta stay in the cities where people can see. The countryside can wait.

And Deku. Deku! He just killed a man, but it's fine. Tenko's heart was saved. He lost OFA and he's back to being quirkless, but it's fine. He got to live his dream. The feelings in his arm comes and goes, and he can't make a fist for every long, but it's fine. He's still got them, doesn't he? He needs to go see Spinner, and he needs to honor his deal with Overhaul, and he hasn't been able to do any of that yet, but it's fine. He can live with the unease and the dread and the guilt for a few more months. He's fine. He's a Hero. He's happy to put on a smile and keep others at ease and deal with his issues by himself, push it all deep inside of him. Harden it into a small ball of lead and guard it from anything leaking out. He's a Hero, and he's willing to put up with the pain and keep it quiet.

So I think the kids should get to have one bad day.

One bad day where nothing turns out okay. They trip and fall and fall and fall. It's a mess. Everything hurts and it sucks and they're tired and frustrated and angry. They feel like they're going crazy - and maybe they are - and they're suffocating and they can't keep doing this. They need to be seen, they need their cries heard, they need their pain acknowledged and accepted. They want the facade of being 'fine' destroyed. They're unwilling to suffer in silence anymore.

So I think the kids should get a villain arc.

[halfmoth-halfman]

Does Price ever find out what Canary went through when she was with Makarov? Does she tell him about everything (the lingerie wedding dress, the controlled meals, all of that) or does he only know bits and pieces of it? If not, does she tell anyone else about it?

yes by the ending of the epilogue he knows pretty much everything that happened while she was with graves and makarov. i don't think she would've told him all at once tho. it would've taken her time to really open up about what she went through, and even then she'd prob only talk about things when it was related to something happening with her currently.

more details under the cut but fair warning it's kinda long

like i think the food thing would come up first after they get back together. canary probably wouldn't bring up graves and makarov controlling her meals and food portions until like price notices she doesn't eat as much when they have dinner together or rudy mentions that she's asked him to make her smaller portions and she still doesn't eat all of it. price would be careful about bringing it up to her, but she starts telling him about them controlling her food and how she still hasn't fully recovered from that, and it would be a big moment of realization for price that her trauma goes a lot deeper than he expected. he'd be pissed and feel so guilty of course, but she would be his priority so he'd only show her understanding and comfort, and he and rudy would help however they could to help her get her appetite back.

she'd probably give him other bits and pieces over the years kinda as she works through them with her therapist too. and i think at some point, she'd invite price to join her for a session or two to talk about their relationship and he'd ask about how to better help with her panic attacks and what he can do to help her feel comfortable in general not just in their relationship. i also think that would lead him to finding his own therapist to work through his guilt about the things he's done to canary, and also to finally work through his guilt about gaz and farah's parents as well. things would be very different from when they were first together, but it would be overall a far healthier and stronger relationship.

she would def have a hard time with interrogations for a while, and would have to depend on one of her ghosts or like ale/ghost/konig to handle them for her. i think it would be a few years before she would ever be able to watch one without immediately thinking of herself in her father's study at makarov's mercy, and even after that first one price would probably comfort her through a panic attack once the whole thing was over.

when kids are brought up, she tells him about her childhood, how her father raised her and used her and pitted her and graves against each other. that would probably be one of the harder conversations for her, and there'd be a lot of complicated feelings about her parents that price doesn't quite get but he'd be there for her and assure that if they ever have kids (which would only happen through an accident because they both agree gaz and farah are enough) she would never turn into her father, and he'd never let anything happen to her.

it would also take a long time for her to tell him about how she got the scars on her hand. i think she'd be hesitant to tell him because they'd be in a good place and she wouldn't want him to feel more guilty, but much like how she explained the scar on her shoulder, she'd eventually tell price in a moment where it was just the two of them. she'd explain everything, about feeling confident on stage for the first time in those five months, about seeing graves with kira for the first time, then seeing price with the blonde, then her breakdown backstage and her smashing the mirror. she'd choke up in the middle of explaining, esp when talking about price and the blonde, and it would be one of the few times price cries in front of her. eventually they talk about the night at the club when she was shot, and she explains how ready she was to end it all right there, and price just fully breaks down. it's a long night of the two of them talking and apologizing and crying and comforting one another, and they're both exhausted the next day but there's a sort of weight lifted off of them at the same time.

i don't think the dress thing would come up until canary's picking out her dress for her and price's wedding and i don't think she'd initially talk to price about it. i think valeria would probably catch onto her anxiety first while they're working to design the dress together, and when asked, canary just kinda word vomits about her other wedding dresses and how much she hated them. valeria would help her through it, hyping her up as much as possible about getting to choose her own dress and how amazing she'll look and how she'll be surrounded by people who wouldn't care if she was covered head to toe as long as she felt safe. she'd say it in her own valeria way obv but it would help canary a lot. and then i think she'd tell price about it later, and he'd, once again, hope and pray that makarov and graves are suffering for eternity for everything they put her through, and do everything he can to reassure her.

other than price, i think her therapist would be the only one to know everything that happened but i think she would talk to gaz, ghost, and keegan the most about what happened to her. gaz would be more like a shoulder for her lean on or vent, her and ghost would bond over their dif traumas and talk about their different coping techniques to help each other out, and keegan would mostly know just because he's her personal bodyguard and is so close to her constantly. like i imagine they'd end up being good friends and she would come to really trust him enough to tell him about her past. i think she'd mention some things to the others - like rudy and alex know about the food, valeria knows about the dresses, farah and roach know about the forced performances and stage anxiety, the ghosts know about her being randomly stolen and dragged to the study, everyone knows about the interrogations, etc.

riley also knows everything because canary talks to him like he's a person anytime he's in the room with her - which is pretty much all the time. and he gets very good at knowing when to lay his head in her lap to ground her when she starts getting overwhelmed.

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 22

We're here!!! A million apologies for the delay, but I hope this (almost) final chapter was worth the wait. But wait there's more!- hoping to post 2 cute epilogue sections in the next few days- so keep an eye out.

Dove needs to find a way out of the basement. And that's the easy part. After that, she needs to convince Al that doing the right thing isn't always the right thing. Can Al and Scout have any semblance of a happy ending together?

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here. As usual, minors please DNI!

Full Tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Chapter 22- Hang It Up

No. It can’t end like this. Not after everything. No. Nonono. 

You never imagined, after every battle and brawl, every taboo and crossed boundary, every promise made, broken and renewed again even stronger, that it would end where it started. You, the Grabber’s victim, trapped in his basement. The only difference was this time, you weren’t holding out hope for someone to rescue you. The thought of somebody coming to ‘save’ you from this situation, lifting you out of these depths, was the worst, most horrifying outcome. 

You didn’t need to be rescued. You’d already rescued yourself. Falling in love with Al was its own kind of escape. Unorthodox as it was, implausible as that escape route may have been, you’d tunneled your way out of the Grabber’s lair and into Al’s heart. Al just needed to be reminded of that fact, before he did something incredibly, incredibly stupid. But that required an escape that looked all too impossible in your current situation. 

You’d been struggling in your bonds for what felt like a lifetime, but the sliver of still-rational thought in your head knew it had been mere moments since Al had shut the basement door behind him. His lingering, morose look was imprinted in your mind, hanging there starkly like a developing photo in a darkroom. However, the less rational and more instinctive side of your brain was in control, and it had kickstarted a panicked response in you. The shock and brutality of Al’s actions had your chest constricting painfully, the tight feeling further spurred on by the tight bite of the tape around your wrists and ankles, chafing and unyielding as you struggled against them. Your throat burned from the useless, unheard (or else purposefully ignored) cries behind the gag. 

For a moment, the floor seemed to shake beneath you, the stone walls cracking in lightning-shaped fissures, the room spinning. It was all too much, but that still lucid part of your mind flared up, urging a message to the forefront of your thoughts. Stop panicking and think, or it will all be over. You nodded, as if answering your own plea. You stilled your body, closed your eyes and took in one long, inhaled breath.

I have a little time. Not much, but a little. That was your first deduction- Al would need to prepare the house first. He’d written out his confession, laid out evidence on the kitchen table as casually as serving up eggs and bacon. But he hadn’t wanted to reveal those things too soon, and there would be other things he’d need to organize in the house- hiding photographs and clothes, possibly. That would take some minutes, you concluded. Your sound reasoning was reassuring, and you could feel your body relaxing, thinking better for it, even if the thoughts were tragic.

How did I escape before? Retracing previous steps might provide a way out of the situation. You’d tried to run before- not possible in your bound state. You huffed a shaky breath out through your nose, thinking harder. You couldn’t fight Al- he was always too strong- had already used that strength to overpower you now. Another breath, trying to steady the panic returning to your body like a rising tide. You’d used your words before- but impossible now, when Al had left you voiceless and alone. You scrunched your eyes tighter, refusing to admit how terrible things truly looked. It had been a long time since you had felt so desperately, utterly helpless. Not since your last visit to this basement had things looked so impossibly bleak. When you thought Al was going to kill you, then had become even more terrified when he’d turned the knife on himself and-

the knife!

Your eyes popped open with a renewed sense of clarity. That knife- it had never left this room! In all those months since that fight, neither you nor Al had revisited the basement. The knife must still be here, tossed away and forgotten. You tried to think back, your head scanning furiously around the concrete cell- where had you thrown it in frustrated relief the last time it had left your grasp? Was that a faint glimmer in the dark shadows, under a tangle of metal pipes in the far corner of the room?

Despite your bonds, you managed to roll yourself unceremoniously towards the corner, ignoring the pains in your body as you inched nearer within a few moments. Pressing your temple to the floor, you peered under the rusted pipework to see- YES- a silver gleam of the knife, a beacon of hope in this dark situation. Heaving yourself to a sitting position, back to the corner, your bound hands scrambled blindly behind you until a cool press of metal touched your fingers. You grabbed the knife, relieved tears falling down your cheeks as you worked quickly to cut free the tape binding your wrists together, the pain of the awkward maneuver and your injured finger forgotten in the adrenal rush of it all. Your wrists tore free, and in another instant your legs were unfettered too. You ripped off the tape over your mouth and sprinted towards the basement door- mercifully, miraculously unlocked. 

This was no covert escape; wild desperation to get to Al had feet pounding up wooden steps, slapping across the linoleum of the kitchen. You swung on the door jamb, careening into the living room as your feet finally thudded to a halt when they hit the shag carpet. Al was already watching you as you flew into the room, sitting in his chair with the phone receiver to his ear and fingers tracing the dial with unthinkable purpose. 

“Hang it up!” 

Your frantic entrance must have been quite the sight: your wild-eyed expression; the tear-streaked face; the bloody, bruised state of your skin; your chest heaving and entire body thrumming with fury. Still, if he was shocked, Al hid it well beneath that well-rehearsed iciness. Eyes never straying from yours, he set the phone's handset in its cradle. He stared silently a moment before those blue eyes flitted downwards. By instinct, you flicked your wrist under the burning cold of his gaze, letting the smooth handle of the knife soothe your shaky palm. You had barely registered that you were still holding the blade, but you were glad for it now, twisting the handle like a ritual to check the strength of your grip.

You didn’t dare let out a breath. There was no relief to be had- Al hadn’t followed your order to hang up the phone because he’d changed his mind. He was still adamant on that insane task, you were sure. But he wouldn’t use the phone while you were in the room. You, ready to fight and scream, ready to do anything to ensure he couldn’t dial those three little numbers to end it all. 

Al gave a soft sigh, audible even across the vast expanse of the silence between you. It seemed sad in tone, as if Al would have to go through the motions of locking you up all over again. But you weren’t about to let that happen. 

You’d been through too much together. Had traversed this fucked-up, beautiful relationship like a midnight van ride through a dark tunnel. And you’d nearly made it out to the other side, nearly securing some semblance of a happy life together, the light at the end of that tunnel within reach before Al’s confession had stalled that journey. Each hopeless second he’d tried to put his plan in motion, the light had grown dimmer. Everything moving in reverse, back to a time before. But you weren’t going to allow Al to convince you it was all an illusion. Not when you felt, deep in your soul, that all of it - every second, every smile, every scream of pain and joy - was all real.

If Al locked you up again, there would be no knife to facilitate an escape. You needed to show him the truth, needed to talk to him. Your words had always been your biggest weapon against him, would be more powerful and effective than even a knife in your hand. But where to start? 

Al seemed about to make a move to stand up. Panicked, you blurted out:

“You don’t have to do this Al!” 

You cursed the generic remark, but hoped the conviction and belief in your voice outweighed the cliched expression. 

“Oh, but I do, dove. I do.” He tiptoed his fingers across the smooth plane of the phone’s handset. “I need to show you I can do the right thing.”

His tone was too matter-of-fact, his pose too casual, still sitting on the armchair as he spoke, as if capturing you would be the easiest thing in the world. Because it would be. That strength, which could be so comforting and assuring in its protectiveness, was cold and lethal when it needed to be. If it resorted to another physical skirmish, you weren’t ever going to win. 

Keep talking to him. Make him see.

You needed to use your power to dissuade Al from this path, like sucking the venom from a snakebite, removing the poison that had infected his mind. You just needed those compelling words- hard to come by when your mind was reeling with fear and fury. But you pressed on, desperately hoping there was still a chance to change his mind. 

“You’ve shown me that, Al! I know you would’ve done it, given up everything we have to do what’s right. It’s just-” your voice faltered, your own imminent confession caught in your throat. “I don’t want you to do the right thing.” 

One of his hands gripped the armrest, nails clawing into the fabric as he spoke through gritted teeth. “DON’T paint yourself the villain here, dove. This is my decision, because those were my sins. My crimes.”

“They’re mine too, in part. It’s shared, Al.”

“You’ve done nothing-”

“I’ve done enough wrong!” you snarled, angry now. “How dare you think it okay to make that decision alone, to take away my choice in all this?”

Al looked once again like he’d been about to rise, but your outburst seemed a physical blow, the force of your words pushing him back in his chair. That spark of power in your words made manifest. You had to keep going. 

“You took away my choices once, Al. I lived with that, did what I needed to survive, played the game. Until things changed between us, and you gave me back my autonomy. When you pressed that key into my hand, told me to run- what did I choose, hm?”

You might have given a hollow laugh at the silence that followed your question. At how troubled Al looked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, jaw clenched in disquiet. Because answering honestly would be admitting that you truly did love him- something he was desperately attempting to prove otherwise. You answered for him.

“I chose to stay. You finally gave me the choice, and I stayed.” You didn’t pick the word ‘freedom’. Deciding to remain with Al- it might have been freedom, or else the choice to remain bound to Al. You weren’t sure what distinguished the two, but you kept on. “And now, you’re going to take all the options away from me, as if I’m back to being your prisoner?”

Al was refusing to admit how much you liked the inky blackness of him - how much you swam in it, relished it, devoured it. But his brow creased. His eyes turned towards your hell, your prison of a basement, and you knew - Al was doubting everything. He took one last, long sigh, as if his opposing thoughts were warring with one another, until he blinked and a look of clarity washed over his face. One of the thoughts had won out. But which? Was he going to accept your plea, and allow things to carry on as they had been? Or was he determined to bring it all to an end?

He gently placed the white phone on the armrest of his chair, the gesture a glint of hope on the horizon, as if your plea had turned the tides of his grand scheme. But your heart sank in those choppy waters when Al reached into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a set of handcuffs and rising from his seat. That preternatural swiftness ached like an approaching rip current, ready to drag you down into the depths of the basement one more. 

As Al stepped forward, you countered his movements, feet stumbling on the thick carpet as you backed away from his approach. He paused, and you realized you’d raised your arm on instinct, the knife clasped tightly in your fist pointing right towards his chest. Could Al be persuaded with violence? You didn’t think so, but you flexed the blade in your clammy hand nonetheless. An attempt to stem the shakes that threatened to show just how terrified you were - terrified of what mad act you might actually commit to stop Al’s own lunacy. You’d match his insanity if needed. His true equal in madness: wasn’t that just more proof that you belonged with him?

“Dove, we already did this dance once before. We both know you won’t kill me. But if you want to try again, that story could work.” Al huffed a sad hum of laughter. “Hey, that’s not a bad ending- finally killing your captor after months of torment.”

You were right- violence held no power, not when Al cared so little for his own life. But then- what did he care about enough to stop all of this? That question had a simple answer, evident in Al’s widening, fearful eyes as you brought the knife up to your own throat, the jagged ridge of the blade’s edge skimming your jugular. 

“Drop that right fucking now.” A command spoken so sincerely, but the trembling fear in Al’s voice was palpable. He’d held up his hands as if to stop you, but had frozen in a surrendering gesture, clearly petrified that you were putting yourself in such danger. 

“What do I deserve, Al?”

“You deserve to be happy, dove. To have a proper life-”

“I am happy,” you interrupted, “And I have a life here with you. If we were apart, I’d break, Al. Do you understand that?” you choked out as a single, hot tear slid down your cheek. “I’d rather be dead than without you.” You began to sob, your quivering hand scraping the blade against the delicate skin of your neck, but the near-lethal abrasion was a necessity to keep Al at bay. This wouldn’t end with him clasping those cuffs around your wrists, hauling you back into the basement and untethering you from him completely. 

“Please, little bird. You’re going to hurt yourself, and neither of us want that.”

You weren’t going to relent with your argument, but that nickname he’d just used had lit a flicker of warmth inside of you: comforting, soothing. The side of you that wanted to be Al’s good girl obeyed a little, and you inched the knife away from your skin, though the weapon remained clasped in your shaky fist. 

“Even if I won’t hurt myself, I’d be good as dead if you continue down this path,” you croaked, the tears flowing faster now, your fear and desperation nearing its limit. “What do you think happens if you do this? What happens when I go back and hate everything about my old life, because you’re not in it?”

A life without Al in the picture- it would be as colorless as those monochrome childhood photographs of him. As miserable as some of those memories, too. You took a breath through your crying plea, but Al chose not to fill the silence. He only tensed his hand slightly, the morning light catching the silver of the cuffs held in his grip. Almost as if to tell you ‘go on’. Almost like Al needed more of a reason to stay, more reason to throw away the morality he’d so recently found. 

“I can’t live outside these walls, Al. I’ve changed too much- you’re not the only one who’s a different person than they were before we met. If you let me go, I’ll give up trying to live any sort of life.”

A flash of…something blazed in the blue of Al’s eyes. Was it a softening, a promise of this madness relenting, or him building up that steel wall to hide his emotion? Uncertainty surged through you, but it was worth the risk to keep going. Sink or swim. 

You approached slowly, warily, as you might a scared animal. But a scared animal was a dangerous one, and you had the knife still clutched in your fist, ready, should Al make a sudden effort to restrain you. But he remained fixed in place: not inviting you closer, but not warning against your approach. You crept one hand upwards, tucking back a stray wisp of his hair that had fallen in his face, trying not to wince as your disjointed finger brushed the ashy hair aside. He shifted- trying to tug his head away in spite of himself- but remained, only his brow furrowing at the tenderness, the sweetness of it all. This was familiar. You’d been here before, months ago, on the other side of such a gesture. Violence had met warmth, mania had met calm. 

Shakily, you moved your hand to Al’s cheeks, pressing a blood-stained palm into the unshaven skin, thumbing away the tears that kissed your fingertips. You tensed your shoulders when his own started to shake, but you forged on. 

“You don’t need to protect me from your past, Al. I’m not the Grabber’s victim. But I’m yours.” You saw the puzzled glance through the burgeoning tears and cupped his cheek harder, thumb holding his chin, forbidding him from turning away from what he needed to hear. “The Grabber took me, hurt me, but I survived. But Albert Shaw was the one who kept me, loved me. I’m in love with you. I’ve fallen victim to you completely.”

You dropped your hand. Al inhaled a gasp as the biting clicks of the handcuff’s metal teeth sounded, and he looked down to see where you’d fastened one of the hanging bracelets around your own wrist. Al looked mutely at where you’d tethered yourself to the cuffs in his grip. Not diving to lock the other half around your arm, not wrestling you to the ground. 

“I’m your responsibility. You made a promise to look after me and you can’t run from that.”

“I- I feel like I’ve broken you,” he said on a shaky breath. 

“If you have, that’s your responsibility too. To put me back together. But we both know I won’t ever be whole again without you.”

“Is it- you can’t- no- it’s just like I said,” Al grasped to find his argument, trying to find some footing to hold onto, to make it sound as though he still had any choice in all this, as if you hadn’t determined to stay no matter what. “I made you feel that way-”

“Enough!” you barked, baring your teeth in anger. The darkness you’d witnessed a thousand times had manifested in you, and you adopted it willingly, an inherent part of your bones and blood and soul now. 

“You forced me into that basement. But you never forced me to like it. Maybe I could have fought harder in the beginning-”

“Don’t say that after I forced-”

“No! You know it’s true. Even from the start, that first time. I didn’t hate it entirely. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. Not completely. I allowed you in when others would have rather died. I kept letting you in deeper, until I allowed your feelings to come out. Remember I asked you to admit them? I wanted you to say those words. Don’t you see, Al? You’re my victim too. You’re my victim. And I’m not letting you go.”

Another clank of metal, and you’d hooked the remaining cuff around Al’s wrist. As the band snapped shut, you swore the breath that Al let out was one of relief. But if any doubt remained, you’d need to slam that door shut and lock it with a final thud and click.

“I swear to god, Al. I’m keeping you.” You flicked the knife up to his neck, jagged ridges almost bursting skin. The living veins beneath the blade thudded audibly with fear, with regret, with anger, with love. All of it a part of Al, and you loved every drop of it. Owned every drop, too. If any of it spilled, it would be by your hand only. 

You continued your threat, no mistaking exactly what you were capable of if he ever tried to separate the pair of you.

“If I have to lock you in that basement, I��ll put on that fucking mask and be your captor. Because you’re mine, Albert Shaw. All mine. Do you understand?”

A heartbeat passed by in silence. Then another, then another. You counted the seconds ticking by with each pump of venous blood that passed under the blade’s scrutinizing watch. 

Then came the crash. In a single rush, Al had collapsed to the floor, dragging you down with him. You felt pressure everywhere, being gripped, held, swallowed whole by his presence as he cried and grasped at you. Bruises and bloodstains, tears and torn clothes. The knife had been lost in the fray, falling unseen to the floor with a smattering of blood upon its edge. A tumultuous cumulation of it all, but one constant that you heard above the din; Al’s soft voice, his repetitive chant 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A plea for forgiveness, a desire for retribution? You’d give him anything. You’d give him everything you had- your whole being, your freedom. Your life. It would be worth it. Right now, sobbing in your arms, you’d give him comfort. As his head burrowed into your neck and chest, you kissed the top of his head, softly, tenderly.

“Come on,” you rasped, letting Al’s body shake with tears. They swam and caught along the edges of your torn shirt, dripped onto bare, bruised skin. Al hiccuped and gasped in your hold, twisting your hair, working to wring clean the years, the hurt, the pain.

“I don’t know what to do.” He was that lost little boy again, hurt and scared and hopelessly outmatched by the crushing weight of a cruel, unfair world. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Al. You’re safe, okay? I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” 

“But I’m-” Al croaked meekly.

“Sh, sh, shhh,” you hushed. You gently brushed a finger over his lips. “Don’t try to speak right now. We’ve got time to talk later, alright?” You tried your best to lull your voice like a rhyme - like a mother hugging the bogeyman away.

As the tears faded, as Al’s breaths became more steady from your assuaging lullabies of soft shushes and kind words, you guided his shoulder away from you, needing distance for him to see this. You were spent from it all; a pleading expression and a final appeal the only thing you had the energy to muster:

“Al, look at me.” He obeyed. “Will you stop this? For me? Let us be happy.”

“But the things I’ve done-” 

“You’re not that- that thing anymore,” you sat up on your knees, raising a hand to press against Al’s cheek once more, cupping it tenderly. “The Grabber? That was your creation, and you’ve killed it. It’s dead. But you still have a life here, Al. If you throw that away, you’ll be ending more lives than your own today.”

That argument, you knew, was flawed. Al had been the Grabber. But you spoke as though the Grabber was a separate entity entirely, a demon possessing Al against his will. For all that had happened to Al, there must have been some madness, some disease, that rotted and spread inside him, eventually causing those monstrous crimes to occur. It felt too much like an excuse- but you would excuse the worst sins to live with the man who, in your eyes, had finally wrung that evil from his bones. 

Because that’s who was here, in the flesh, in your hold at this moment. Unmasked, vulnerable. Just Al. He gave a small smile, flexed his cuffed hand in a half-circle to grab your smaller hand in his. Al dared to let his gaze meet yours, red-rimmed eyes against black-bruised fatigue. It was almost too much to see: all the confusion, the anger, the hurt buried there. But you rode it out, looking, seeing it all there, as he saw the hurt and anguish in your eyes too. There was no haunting specter hiding behind that vast cerulean sea, just the occasional ripple of darkness that would remain with him forever, that reminder of his crimes. 

Al dug into his trouser pocket, handing you the small silver key with which to unlock the handcuffs that connected you. They jangled as you unclasped the bracelets before falling quietly in the plush carpet. They weren’t needed to stay tethered to him anymore.

“Do we deserve a happy ending?” Al whispered, his now-free hands commencing that habitual rhythmic stroking, thumbs bumping along each fingertip. You reached out, touching softly to still the nervous spasm, squeezing a little until watery blue eyes looked into yours.

“Deserved or not, it’ll be our ending. To me, Al, you’re a good man. That’s all that matters, right? You and me.”

“You and me, dove.” His lips quivered as attempted a soft smile, trying to fend off the last of the heavy, sobbing tears. The expression seemed bittersweet; hopeful, but still possessing a streak of melancholy. You’d used most of Al’s old tricks against him to win him over- a little mischief, that hint of devilry, was in your repertoire too. You adopted a sing-song lilt of your own:

“Y’know, if you’re really that upset, I’ll let you put the handcuffs back on me.”

A croaky chortle from Al, his throat still raw from cries, but the humor diffusing the tension a little. You smirked at Al and the start of that sideways smile began to unfurl on his lips as he drew closer. You inched forward, lips parted, ready to-

BRRIIIIIINNG!!

The sudden ring of the phone pulled you and Al from the depths of your intense gaze, like an unwanted alarm clock waking you from the most sublime dream. The shock of the shrill ringing had you gasping, and Al’s startled reaction had him jumping madly, knocking the phone off the armrest when he jerked in surprise.

The muffled clatter of the telephone landing on the carpet halted the noise of the ringing, though you looked in bewilderment at the floor where it had landed, still discerning a faint noise emanating from the handset. 

“hello? hello-oo. anyone there?”

The subdued voice, currently addressing the shag carpet, was unmistakably Max’s. You breathed a relieved sigh, looking up at Al through still-teary eyes. From his incredulous look (his blue eyes glossy with tears too), he’d heard his brother through the phone. As if Max had been affronted by the confession that it was just the two of you that mattered. 

“Hey, uh- anyone there?”

“Max!” you yipped, scrambling to pick up the handset before he hung up on the other end. 

“He-ey, Scout! Think the line went a little fuzzy there. Listen, I thought I’d bring some pizza round later. Just checking- you’re gonna want extra mushrooms, right?” The casualness of the conversation, in such contrast to what you and Al had been discussing, was a little jarring, and you stumbled a little before replying ‘yes’.

“Gross, but I thought so. I’ll get one with slugs on it and one without, then.”

You barked out a laugh, though the sniffles accompanying it seemed to tell Max you’d been crying recently.

“Hey, er, Scout- you good? Doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m doing ok.” As you answered that question- honestly, you realized- your eyes strayed back to Al, who was watching you intently. “We’re both doing ok, Max.” Al’s eyes softened as you narrated that statement to his brother; voicing that the two of you were ok now, sharing that fact outside your tiny bubble for two, was like an extra fortification that things would turn out good. 

“Aw, that’s real good to hear. I was worried when you two took off yesterday. I know things got a little heated, but ya know you can talk to me anytime- you both can,” Max chattered on, each kind word and affectionate promise bringing more small tears of joy and relief to your eyes. “My brother’s lucky to have you, ya know?”

“He has you too, Max. We both do.” Al’s mouth quivered as you spoke, realizing you and Max were talking about him.

“Aw, Scout, you’re too sweet, you’re gonna make me cry! I’ll see you later, ‘kay? And you tell that brother of mine he’d be stupid to let anything happen between you two.”

“Here, I’ll put him on Max- you can tell him yourself.” Max’s voice wavered a little down the line, as if wary to admit such an earnest confession. Similarly, Al leaned back as you held out the phone receiver, palms turned out as if apprehensive about taking the call. If the brothers were reluctant to talk to each other, you’d just have to give them a little push, a little encouragement. That’s what families were for, right?

You thrusted the phone into Al’s hands despite his protests, your fingers brushing his as you passed it to him, giving an encouraging nod as he brought the handset to his ear. A faint buzz told you Max was speaking a mile a minute on the other end, with the occasional gruff response from Al in short bursts of ‘yeahs’ and ‘sures’. The only real indication the two were speaking about something raw was the single, dewy tear that glided down Al’s cheek, which he rubbed away with the back of his hand as Max carried on speaking. Al said a few more short replies:

“I will. Soon. Yeah, I mean that. Ok, see ya Maxie.” A short buzz down the line as Max spoke, followed by the briefest of silences before Al replied: “Love you too.”

If the use of Max’s childhood nickname wasn’t enough to have more tears falling down your face, those last three words Al sent down the phone line ensured it. You scooped up the base of the phone from the floor, holding it out to Al, who placed the receiver carefully back in the cradle, where it clacked into the holster with a final trill as the call hung up. You rose on your knees, eye level with Al, who smiled softly before putting the phone on the armrest once more, staring longingly at you a moment before pulling you into a tight embrace. 

Your arms came up behind him, gripping at the back of his silky shirt, as if ensuring that yes, truly- Al was really here with you. You were unsure how long you stayed in Al’s grasp, but any time would feel too short after the paralyzing fear of losing him. To be held captive in his embrace was the most free you’d felt in a long, long time. 

It had been drizzly and gray in Denver, much like any other day this late into fall. Looming clouds, holding a promise of thunder, rolled in with the late afternoon dusk, a pewter sky hanging heavy over the city. As you and Al looked out the window onto the rain-splattered street outside, you wondered if the weather was a bad omen, or a renewing baptism. You supposed neither mattered too much, not if Al would be beside you. 

“What do we do about that?” Al asked softly, nodding his head out towards the view in front of you both. The house across the street was framed like a tragic painting by the window pane. The gnarled tree in the front yard held its branches aloft as if shrugging and you silently agreed: no one could really answer such impossible questions. 

“There’s nothing to do. Except let it be a stark reminder for us. Another consequence we have to suffer for staying.” There was no running or hiding from the past. No pretending that those things hadn’t happened, their existence false. 

“We?” Al turned his head in your direction. You mirrored the action.

“We.”

The pair of you returned your focus back to the house, and you forced yourself to think about what lay inside. You hated how those crimes were almost an afterthought in the shared decision to stay. You still felt a deep sorrow- a visceral, aching thing- when you thought about those boys. The pain you felt was deserved, the cost of choosing to stay. But you knew you were guilty of putting your own emotions ahead of any morality you still possessed. As much as the pity and remorse ate away at you, as much as you hated the things Al had done, those feelings were weaker than the love you felt for him. 

A small nudge against your thigh; Al had reached a hand across the small space between you. You gripped it tight, fingers interlacing with his. That connection as unbreakable and binding as steel cuffs; fortifying, comforting.

You and Al were the same- you’d determined that a long time ago. But now, you’d truly accepted the darkness that lay inside you, rippling just under your skin like black veins inked into your body. It would reside permanently beside the light and goodness you still knew yourself capable of. Just as it did in Al.

Not wholly good. Not wholly bad. But okay. That was enough, for you and Al. It had to be. It was all you had. The drowning depths had almost dragged you both into endless oblivion. But if you both swam through those dark waters together, holding each other afloat, it would be okay. 

It would always be okay.

[shadowqueenjude]

What transpired between the end of TBOSAS and the epilogue? Part 2 (part 1 here)

Coriolanus nervously smoothed down his suit. It had a plum jacket with a white shirt, black bowtie, and the white rose from his grandmother’s garden. They had just moved back into their ancestral home two days back, while the Plinths were still arranging their move to the apartment beneath their own. It all felt so surreal. Just a month ago, he had been desperate for even a small percentage of the Plinth fortune, and now it was all…his.

Stolen. You stole this money. It should’ve been Sejanus’s. Murderer.

Coriolanus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the emotions swirling through him and failing to do so. His breaths came harder and faster, and he placed his hands onto the dining table, trying to get more air. “Coryo!” Tigris cried, rushing over to his side. She grabbed his cheeks and turned his face toward her. “It’s not real. I’m here. Breathe. Breathe.”

Slowly but surely, Coriolanus began to calm down. All wasn’t lost. He still had Tigris. He had the Plinths now. And, much as she got on her nerves sometimes, he had Grandma’am.

He wasn’t alone.

Tigris stroked Coriolanus’s cheek with her thumb. “That’s it. You’re going to University, and you’re going to ace it like you ace everything. Snow lands on top.”

Coriolanus laughed weakly. Despite ample amounts of money being dropped into his lap, he felt far from the top. “Snow lands on top,” he answered anyway.

The first day of school would be pretty straightforward. He had the Gamemaker internship in the morning followed by genetics class and a special honors class in military strategy. Apparently, this class was taught by Dr. Gaul herself, and freshman typically weren’t allowed but an exception had been made for him. Coriolanus felt both pleased and alarmed at this special treatment; one, he was being put into the advanced class, which was a good thing, but two, he was being singled out by Dr. Gaul. And seeing what had happened to him over the past year or so, being singled out by Dr. Gaul was never a good thing. How many more games did she intend to play with him before she finally killed him?

Perhaps he was being melodramatic, but Dr. Gaul had sent him into the arena unsure whether he’d live or die. He felt like one of those mutts in her science lab: a particularly interesting experiment, but replaceable should something better come along.

Well, he’d better do a sure job of being irreplaceable then.

No more public transport for Coriolanus; one of the Plinths’ private drivers (how ridiculous ) took him to school in a suave car. Coriolanus should be enjoying the opulence, but all he could think of was how selling this car could’ve paid the house taxes, could’ve provided the family with ample meals for months and months, could’ve bought him some decent-looking clothes to last for the school year.

The thoughts made him want to spit in the car, but then he thought about how high the cleaning bill would be, and he controlled himself.

When they arrived at the University, Coriolanus took a moment to take it all in. The campus was large and glamorous, the buildings looking old-fashioned in an off-white color. There was a clocktower that reminder him of something he’d once seen in a history book. The doors were grand and round on top, made of a dark wood that made them look rather imposing.

Coriolanus nervously smoothed down his suit again. He just remembered his hair was shorn. He could do this. He was ready. Just ignore the nasty stares, deflect from the nosy questions, and smile winningly in response.

His new shoes shone in the sunlight as he ascended the steps into his new school. He looked like an entirely new person from last year. He probably was an entirely new person. Coriolanus looked back once at the Plinth car before opening the door and walking inside.

He pulled out the neatly folded paper in his pocket, scanning it for the internship room. C472. He scanned some of the rooms near him. A104. Drat. He’d probably have to go up a couple more staircases then.

Thanks to his Peacekeeper training, Coriolanus had little difficulty moving up the stairs. He strolled through the halls, searching for the correct room. C396, C398, then…huh. Then it goes to C230 on the other side. Confusing building. If Coriolanus were to design a building, he’d never make it this convoluted.

At last, Coriolanus found the room. It had two double doors unlike the other rooms, which let him know that it was probably a lot larger than the others.

He quietly opened the door, but it still creaked enough that he winced. Thankfully, no one glanced his way. He found himself in an atrium with several different groups huddled in different corners, already in deep discussion. Coriolanus stood there for a moment, unsure of where to go, when a tall, well-dressed man with slicked back grey hair and a foot more height than Coriolanus offered his hand. “Hello. You’re the Snow kid, right? Our new intern.”

Everyone here was much older, Coriolanus realized with a hint of trepidation. But the man in front of him smiled assuredly at him, his crow’s feet visible as he grinned. “You’re the youngest intern we’ve had since inception! You must be a brilliant kid. No surprise, considering your old man. God bless his soul.”

Coriolanus relaxed even as his heart swelled at the praise. “Thank you sir. It is an honor to be here.” He clasped the man’s hand, swallowing his cringe at the layer of sweat on the man’s hand. “I’m Dr. Adonis Fling. It’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

Coriolanus blinked. A fan of him? But what could he possibly be talking about? Coriolanus took a shot in the dark. “You speak of my mentor performance during the tenth Hunger Games?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Adonis said, leading Coriolanus by his hand to his work station. “The stunt at the monkey exhibit? Masterful. The interview song? Perfection. Your idea for gifts in the arena? Inspired! Your love story? Heartwarming. You’ve done more for the games in one year than all of us in a decade. You revolutionized it. You made it a spectacle.” He gestured to Coriolanus’s buzz cut. “And you did a stint as a Peacekeeper as punishment for your heroics in the games?” A throaty chuckle. “Truly you have so much insight to offer us.” Coriolanus swallowed his words.

It wasn’t an act. None of it was an act.

“Thank you, Dr. Fling. To be quite truthful, very little of it was planned. Much of it occurred as a result of spur-of-the-moment thinking.”

“And that’s exactly why it came across as so authentic! Truly ingenious! A masterpiece! Rumor has it you even went into the arena yourself! We’d love to hear of your experience!” Dr. Fling exclaimed.

Flashbacks to the rabid tributes chasing him, to smashing that District 8 tribute’s head, echoed in his mind. “I’d be happy to give you the full story some other time,” Coriolanus said smoothly, trying to escape this conversation. “So what am I to do here?”

Dr. Fling clasped a hand on Coriolanus’s shoulder. “Oh all in good time, Mr. Snow! The first couple of weeks, you’ll mainly be watching. But since you’ve already been integral to the games, we’d love to hear any suggestions you have to make it better!”

Truthfully, Coriolanus would be happy to never think about the Hunger Games again. Thinking of the Hunger Games meant thinking of his girl, his victor, his lost love fluttering in the breeze. The woman he’d imagined a future with, children with, betraying him by running away. All over one lie. His eyes stung before he’d even realized he’d become lost in his thoughts. Shit. He was going to embarrass himself on his first day.

“Apologies, sir. Thinking of the games makes me very emotional,” Coriolanus muttered, trying to chase away his panic. Dr. Fling looked him over sympathetically. “Yes, it’s all too brutal and real, isn’t it? That experience is exactly why you’ll be such a major asset to the team. You really get what it’s all about.”

Coriolanus cleared his throat, recalling that Lucy Gray’s family was too poor to even store ice and the corruption in his girl being chosen for the games. “Well one thing I suggest changing is the way the tributes are chosen. You see, my gi- I mean, my tribute was chosen in an unfair manner. Her ex-boyfriend Billy Taupe was newly dating the mayor’s daughter, and they conspired to get her reaped. That isn’t really in the spirit of the games, now is it? If this is to be a reminder of the war, well war doesn’t discriminate. So, it should be randomized. Every district child ages 12-16 has a chance to be reaped.” Dr. Fling nodded along, scribbling some notes down on his scratchpad. “Excellent suggestion! Anything else?”

“Yes. There should be added incentive to participate in the games. All children of the Hunger Games age range will have at least one name in the drawing jar, but they should have the option to add their name multiple times in exchange for food stuffs and other basic necessities. I’ve seen how poor they are back there; it’s a risk many would be willing to take.”

“Excellent, Mr. Snow. You’re going to do wonderful here.”

It was strange to go by that name. Mr. Snow was his father, not him. It was even stranger to be compared to him. They were similar in likeness, but Coriolanus didn’t imagine they were that similar in personality. But he was going to have to get used to it: the comparisons and that name.

The first day of the internship passed swimmingly. Coriolanus watched as the Gamemakers outlined what was to be the first Victory tour, discussing activities and locations in each district to visit. There was also the selection of the following year’s arena to consider; after the previous year’s bombings, the idea of building an entirely new Hunger Games arena was not off the table.

However, once the internship ended, Coriolanus was once again feeling nervous. He was going to see his classmates from the Academy for the first time in months, and he had no idea what rumors had been swirling about him in the meantime.

He pressed his handkerchief to his forehead, wiping the sweat away. With a jolt, he got a whiff of Lucy Gray’s scent on it. Great. He just so happened to choose one of the handkerchiefs she’d touched.

Coriolanus couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think beyond the realization that Lucy Gray was gone gone gone-

Who was he kidding? How could she survive in the forest? Chances were she was probably dead.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead-

Coriolanus ran to the end of the hall where there was a window. He grunted as he shoved the window up, and he threw up over the side.

He didn’t know how to stop the panic attacks. He had started taking sleeping pills at night to get dreamless sleep because Lucy Gray and on occasion Sejanus haunted him there. Perhaps he’d have to go to the doctor afterwards. He made a note in his planner to schedule an appointment.

At last, he made his way towards his first class, which took place in an entirely different building: Ravinstill Hall.

He saw a few students exit from cars nearly as extravagant as the Plinth car around the same time he walked towards the entrance. This building, at least, seemed a lot more modern than the others.

As soon as Coriolanus walked inside the building, he found a huge crowd gathered around him. Felix Ravinstill, who he’d hardly ever interacted with, was up in his face. “Woah, Coriolanus, nice haircut!” he yelled. Walking talking anger issues Urban Canville was scowling at him. “So it’s true that you were a Peacekeeper. Or was the buzz just to go with the rumors?” Urban looked Coriolanus up and down. “You don’t look tough enough to be a peacekeeper.”

Try me and I’ll show you how tough I can be, Coriolanus thought, but more and more faces surrounded him.

“Did you bring Lucy Gray with you?”

“How are you here? Weren’t you expelled?”

Then, to Coriolanus’s utter horror, Livia Cardew’s mousy brown hair was right in front of him. Coriolanus prayed to gods he did not believe in to get this psychopath off of him. He cringed away as her nose grazed his chin, wishing for a moment that the snake in District 12 had truly been poisonous. “The short hair suits you, Coryo,” Livia purred, and Coriolanus genuinely thought he was going to vomit again, this time all over her. Were it not for the embarrassment it would cause him, he genuinely wouldn’t mind at all.

Oh, all of a sudden she cared for him? All that time laughing about his poverty, erased simply because Coriolanus was something new, wealthy, and interesting now. Fucking hypocrite. God did he despise her with all of his heart.

“Coriolanus!” Coriolanus heard a voice call from the crowd faintly. “Clemmie!” Coriolanus boomed loudly, shoving through the crowd towards her. He saw her lovely black hair fighting for purchase in the crowd as well until they finally met in the middle and embraced.

“You are my hero today,” Coriolanus murmured against her ear. “For a moment, I was afraid Livia would eat me alive.”

Clemensia Dovecote laughed, rubbing her hand against his back. “Not on my watch.” She offered her arm, and Coriolanus linked his with hers. “Genetics class?” Coriolanus asked her. She nodded. “Yes. Shall we?” Together, they walked to class, heads high as the crowd behind them continued to murmur and point.

They sat next to each other in the second row from the front. “What have they been saying about me?” Coriolanus asked her out of the corner of her mouth. She whispered back, “Scattered rumors. They say you followed your heart to your victor, Lucy Gray, and you dropped out of school to be with her. They say you were a Peacekeeper out there in the districts. Some claim you were expelled. No one really knows the truth.”

Coriolanus blinked. The rumors were…pretty damn close to the truth, actually. Too close. “It’s a combination of the three, actually,” he admitted. “I was expelled for cheating to help Lucy Gray win the games, which I did because I was in love with her. As a punishment, I was forced to serve as a Peacekeeper in the districts. But then Dr. Gaul brought me back, because apparently this was all some kind of experiment to her. It makes me uncomfortable, like I’m a mutt in her little science lab. Please don’t tell anyone I told you this, though.” Clemmie’s eyes flashed at the mention of Dr. Gaul, but otherwise there was no reaction. She seemed back to normal, signs of the snake bites gone, back to her pretty, bubbly self.

She mimed sealing her lips shut. “Not a soul.” Coriolanus smiled at her. In light of his recent losses, it felt better than ever to have Clemensia here with him. Their friendship had had rough patches, but here they were after it all, closer than ever.

This class would be easy, especially with Clemensia around. It was Dr. Gaul’s class that he had to worry about.

[deconstructthesoup]

It's been four years since The Owl House first aired, and I still can't get over how much I adore Luz as a character and protagonist.

When I first started watching, I was a kid who was going through the hell of distance learning and dealing with some of the worst stress of my life. To help keep my mind off of the hellscape that was 2020, I decided to make it my mission to watch every gay cartoon known to man. And, lo and behold, one of my friends recommended me The Owl House, which had recently finished up its first season. I'd heard about it---and most of what I heard was about Amity, go figure---and I decided to finally check it out.

I sat down and started the first episode. And I was hooked immediately, not by the worldbuilding or the setup, but by Luz herself.

I don't think I've ever instantly connected to a protagonist the way I did when I saw that Luz was in trouble for an out-there book report, and how this wasn't the first time that something like that had happened. Luz was a geeky, fantasy-loving queer girl who was clearly neurodivergent-coded, and at the time, she was around my age. I paused and texted the friend that I was already obsessed with Luz not two minutes in, and then I kept watching.

The world pulled me in, as did Luz's journey. Throughout the hellscape that was hybrid learning, the trials and terrors of junior year, and the stress of college applications, I kept on going back to TOH, and I saw her go from a naive, happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine to a confident teen who felt like she could take on anything to a burnt-out young woman struggling with depression and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her story and arc still resonated with me, especially once it was made abundantly clear that her story was about the struggles of growing up neurodivergent in a neurotypical world.

Watching and Dreaming, in an incredibly poetic fashion, came out on my eighteenth birthday. I invited all of my friends who'd seen it, including the one who got me into it, and we had a big old marathon where we ate pizza, laughed, cried, and screamed at everything the finale had to offer. But nothing hit me harder then the epilogue.

Even though it took me until season 1's full release for me to watch it, I was Luz's age when A Lying Witch and a Warden released. And in the epilogue, Luz is eighteen and going off to college, ready for her next adventure... which was everything I needed to see.

So... yeah. Luz is always gonna be one of my favorite protagonists, and it meant a lot to grow up with her.

[disneywizard]

The Best Animated Series of 2022

2022.  Another year of Animation has come and gone, and so it is now time to do the one thing that I do on this site: make my top 10 list. This year should be an interesting mix, since I am allowing myself to put adult animated shows on the list for the first time.  But only if they are exceptional.  While this definitely made making this list harder this year, due to more content, it wasn’t as bad a deluge as I feared.  

Before we unveil the list, I also wanted to give a shout-out to the best thing that happened in 2022: the return of Gargoyles in comic form.  From Dynamite Publishing, written by series creator Greg Weisman.  Gargoyles is my favorite show of all time, it’s the reason I became enamored of Animation in the first place.  So I highly encourage everyone to check the comics out, if you can.  

And now for the list: Honorable Mentions: Green Eggs and Ham, Dragon Age Absolution, and Paranormal Park were all fantastic shows, I just thought that the following ten series were slightly better.  But all three of these shows ALMOST made the list as I was working on it, so I thought they belonged here.   And without further ado:

10) Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir

The French Action Adventure show about two superheroes in love with each other continues to go strong for it’s fourth and fifth seasons, which have included some of the best episodes of the show.  

Available on: Netflix (S1-3) Disney+ (S4 & 5*)  

9) Legend of Vox Machina

Man I wish someone would animate my D&D campaign.  

Available on: Amazon Prime.

8) Kid Cosmic and the Global Heroes!

Craig McCracken’s amazing superhero show is the first one on this list that officially ended this year, and went out quite strong.  I cried at the end of the series.  Definitely worth a look.

Available on: Netflix

7) Tales of the Jedi

I’m not much of a Star Wars fan.  It’s hard for me to even care outside of the Rebels series.  But this anthology series was so good, I’d be remiss to exclude it from the list.  

Available on: Disney+

6) The Dragon Prince: The Mystery of Aaravos

If I’m being honest, TDP was a bit weaker this season than previous showings.  We’ve had a time skip and the characters are now all in different places, which made it a little harder to get back into a groove with them.  But the story was still fantastic and I can’t wait to see how the next 4 seasons unfold.  

5) The Owl House

Why are you not watching this show?  You definitely SHOULD BE, it’s FANTASTIC.  The top four-through-two shows on this list were, IMO all so good, it was impossible to objectively place them in any order, so I’m listing them by my favorites.

Available on: Disney+  

4) Star Trek: Prodigy

This show taught me to love Star Trek again.  Everything from the voice work, to the animation, to the story is an absolute treat.  The easter eggs aren’t heavy handed, but will excite you trekkies when you see them, and the plot kept me fully excited and engaged all season long.

Available on: Paramount+

3) Amphibia

Another show we said goodbye to this year, the series finale had me in tears.  I just love these characters so much.  Everyone should watch this show, especially if they want something more from the property, and the defictionalized Marcy’s Journal hinted at some interesting future possibilities...

Available on: Disney+

2) Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous

Another show that we said goodbye to this year, Season 5 was an excellent close to the series, especially following the slightly weaker season 4.  The epilogue hinted at the possibility for further hijinks with these characters, and I hope we get them.  This is my favorite entry in a Movie Franchise that I already love.

Available on: Netflix

1) Young Justice Phantoms

WOO-HOO!  It’s here!  It’s finally here.  I can finally actually put the show I actually thought was the best of the year on my actual list, instead of just being an “Honorable Mention” like in past years.  This season was an incredible well written roller coaster of character and story arcs, that kept my attention and interest from beginning to end.  I cannot emphasize how good this show.  There was never any question where it was going to fall on my list, unlike the rest of the shows on here.  It was always going to be #1 because it was the best.  Watch it on HBOMAX while you still can, because given what has been happening over there lately, who who knows how long that will be.

Available on: HBOMAX, for now.  

[frannyzooey]

just finished SDLN for the first time and I can’t help myself from crying like a baby… this story means so much to me. You’ve managed to capture SO much in this story… so many feelings and emotions, too many to name!! I feel so overwhelmed right now that my words are failing me but I’m just so in love with this story. Everything about it. I cried like a baby when they left their little home. I cried even harder when I read the epilogue. You honored Sarah in such a remarkable way, too. SDLN feels like a long awaited, warm hug and I can’t wait to read the whole thing all over again.

I myself feel so overwhelmed at this ask 🥺

When I set out to write that story, the initial idea was just going to be a whole lot of one bed trope and “give this man a baby to help him heal” — and it ended up turning into so much more than that (due a lot to the wonderful, thoughtful analysis of @mrsmando ❤️)

I read so, so much for him and I just really wanted him to have time and space and closure and healing for Sarah, and I am so incredibly happy that it came through. I cried while writing it, so I am right there with you. 🫂❤️

Thank YOU for reading SO many words, for sticking it out with me and trusting the story, and for sending in this amazingly sweet ask. I was nervous to start this story and write for this man, but in the end, the leap was completely worth it if only for readers like you to feel a “long awaited warm hug”.

Thank you ❤️

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 25: In the Beginning

A/N: it’s a funny title for the last chapter of a half a million word-long series, but I hope you’ll see my logic by the end. The end. Wow, it feels weird to say that. There’ll be an epilogue, but the bulk of Artemis’ story ends… here. And what a journey it’s been. Featured characters include Ellie Hopper @thatravenpuffwitch and David Willows & Amelia Booth @that-scouse-wizard. Warnings: mentions of violence, death and betrayal, an incredibly nostalgic and somewhat bittersweet ending. I cried writing the last few paragraphs, and you might just cry reading them. Sorry.

News always spread quickly around Hogwarts, and it did not take long for the school to begin whispering about Artemis Hexley and her friends’ heroic defeat of the cabal and destruction of the infamous Cursed Vaults. With each passing day, the rumours and stories grew increasingly far-fetched, and by the time the school gossipmongers had moved on to the latest scandal - namely, Slytherin winning the Quidditch Cup after they cheated their way to victory over Gryffindor in the final match of the year, much to the obvious chagrin of Professor McGonagall - Artemis was surprised that anyone even believed in the Cursed Vaults or the Circle of Khanna anymore.

Not that she really cared, of course. She and the other seventh years had bigger things to worry about: their N.E.W.T. exams. Having spent the majority of her final term breaking curses, Artemis had not put as much effort into her revision as she should have. She had attempted to study as hard as she could in the few weeks that followed the night she had destroyed the Cursed Vaults and preceded the exams, but she had found it harder to focus on the N.E.W.T.s than she had the O.W.L.s. She was not sure whether that was because the subject material was more complex this time, because she no longer had Rowan there to motivate her with revision timetables and long library sessions, or because she was still unsettled by what she had discovered in Dumbledore’s pensieve. Probably, it was a combination of everything.

Still, she had managed to struggle through her written exams and, as always, she fared far better in the practicals. She could only hope that she had done enough to get the grades she needed to get onto the Curse-Breaker training scheme at Gringotts. 

Merula Snyde had also applied for the programme, however, she didn’t seem concerned about her exam results at all.

“They won’t care about grades,” she told Artemis as they left their final, abysmally difficult Ancient Runes exam. “Not when I’ve already given them something better.”

Artemis frowned. “What?”

“Let’s just say I managed to get a pretty convincing letter of recommendation for my application,” Merula said, her eyebrows raised. “After all, I know someone whose opinion on Curse-Breakers gets taken very seriously.”

“Who, Bill?”

“No, dungbrain. I mean Madam Rakepick, obviously.”

“There is nothing obvious about that,” replied Artemis. “How did you even-”

“I wrote to her in Azkaban. They are allowed to receive letters, you know.” Artemis didn’t know, but she nodded anyway, and Merula continued, “I told her that after the Buried Vault and what she did to Khanna, she owed that much. And seeing as she took the three of us on as apprentices and got Bill a place, it was only fair that she do the same for us, too.”

Artemis blinked. “Us?”

“Yeah, I told her to write a letter for you as well. She sent me back one for each of us, basically saying that they’d be idiots not to take us on, and I forwarded them on to Gringotts. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just don’t remember the last time you did anything this nice for me, Merula,” Artemis replied. “Actually, I don’t remember you ever doing anything this nice for me.”

Merula rolled her eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

“You mean, you don’t want us to be work friends as well as school friends?”

“We’re not friends at all, Hexley. I barely tolerate you.”

Artemis laughed out loud, and as she walked away, she could’ve sworn she saw Merula smirking to herself. 

On the last day of term, the final years were asked to meet with their Heads of Houses. When the Hufflepuffs arrived at the greenhouses, Professor Sprout was already there, smiling at all of them with a look of mingled sadness and joy in her eyes.

“Thank you for taking time out of your last day to sit and listen to me,” she said. “There are a few things I wanted to say to you, and I’m not sure that there will be time before the leaving ceremony tomorrow morning. I expect that you will want to spend that time with your peers and with your families, and not your head of house.

“However, as your head of house, I do want to spend a little time with you. I remember your first night at the castle, when you all were first sorted into Hufflepuff. You were all so nervous and you looked so small under that hat, and now, look at you all. All grown up and ready to leave.”

“To be fair, Professor, some of us still would look small under that hat,” said Tonks, and Artemis stuck her tongue out at her.

“Hufflepuff house has always valued hard work, patience, dedication, fairness, loyalty, and kindness,” Sprout continued. “Now, I know what some say about our house, and those of us who are sorted into it. I believe the word ‘duffers’ gets thrown about fairly often, and I suppose that next to the bravery of Gryffindor, the wisdom of Ravenclaw, and the ambition of Slytherin, our house does seem a little bit humble in comparison. But, what those people fail to understand is how there is brave you must be to truly care for others, how hard work requires ambition, and how treating others fairly is always the wisest choice. Our values are nothing to be sniffed at. You’ve done a great job at upholding them whilst you’ve been here, and I do hope you’ll continue to uphold them after you leave. Remember, there is strength in being kind.

“Now, obviously, there is one less person here than there should have been. I don’t want to linger too much on sad events when you’ve all achieved so much to be happy about, but I’d like us to take just a few moments to remember Rowan.” Professor Sprout paused, placed one green-fingered hand over the other, and bowed her head. Several others followed suit, including Artemis. After almost a minute, Professor Sprout spoke again, “I think Rowan would be as proud of you as I am. And I am so very, very proud of you. I’m sorry to see you go, but I can’t wait to see how you’ll continue to make me proud in the years to come.” She smiled and wiped a single tear from her cheek. “I’ll let you all get on. Murphy, Diego, Artemis. A word, please.”

“Did we do something wrong, Professor?”

“Not at all, I just need to take back your prefects’ badges and Captain’s armband,” she told them. Diego unpinned his badge and gave it to her. Artemis waited until he had gone to do the same. Professor Sprout squeezed her hand as she pressed the badge into her green palm. “And you thought you wouldn’t make a good prefect.”

Frowning, Artemis’ nose wrinkled. “Did I make a good prefect?”

“You made an interesting one, I’ll give you that,” Sprout chuckled. “But overall, I think you did a good job. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Professor Sprout. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Artemis. Now, have you sent off all your invitations for the ceremony tomorrow?”

Artemis shook her head. The following morning, the final years would take part in the annual leavers’ ceremony before returning home, and they had each been given a set of invitations to send to their families. Artemis had already posted invitations to her great-aunt and uncle, along with the newspaper clipping detailing the results of the magizoological photography competition she had entered earlier in the year, but had yet to send out the other two.

One she had thrown into the bin, having decided that her mother probably wouldn’t want to come, and not being certain that she wanted her to come, either. The final invitation was meant for Jacob, but she still didn’t know when he would be released from Azkaban. She had kept hold of it in the hope that he would be allowed out in time to attend, but it was looking less likely by the hour, despite several written requests to Kingsley Shacklebolt that he try to hurry the process along a bit.

“There’s still a little time,” Professor Sprout told her gently before she let go of her hand. “Murphy, your armband?”

Murphy handed it to her. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” 

For the first time in seven years, Murphy had nothing to say. He simply shrugged his shoulders, a look of glum resentment on his face. Professor Sprout sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Murphy, when I said just now that I’m proud of you all and your achievements, I don’t just mean the big wins. You were faced with an opponent that was not playing fair, and you chose to stick to your principles rather than stoop to their level. As far as I’m concerned, that was a great achievement in its own right. Besides, Quidditch shouldn’t just be about winning. It should be about being part of a team and having fun with your peers. And you know, even though you’re adults now, it’s okay for you to do things you enjoy just for the fun of them.”

Artemis’ eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

“I almost forgot!” she blurted out. “Murphy, I’ve got an idea. Can you get the Quidditch team together? Tell them to meet on the pitch right after lunch. I’ll make sure Andre and Charlie know to come, too.”

And so, with Penny’s help spreading the word, several assorted members of the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor Quidditch teams and the entire Circle of Khanna met on the pitch, ready to play one final game while they still could.

“But there’s too many of us,” said Andre, frowning at all the people who had gathered around to join.

“So? We can have more Chasers and Beaters, or we’ll just swap players in and out as we go.”

“That’s actually against the rules,” Murphy told her. “You’re only allowed to substitute players after the beginning of the match if the game goes on for more than-”

“Sod the rules. This is just for fun. Anyone who wants to play can play. Who’s in?”

In the end, they managed to sort out two teams of nine players, made up of students from all four houses, with both Murphy and Lee Jordan sharing the commentary. 

It was chaos. With more players on the pitch (many of whom did not usually play Quidditch), two commentators, and no team robes to distinguish who was who, Artemis found it hard to follow what was actually going on, even from the vantage point she was using in order to look out for the golden snitch. 

"Egwu saves, but Diego Caplan picks it up on the rebound," announced Lee Jordan. "From what I hear, this is something of a speciality for Caplan, who-" 

"Caplan passes to Hopper," Murphy interrupted him wearily, "who flies back to the scoring zone. Hopper has a remarkable shooting record in the past, so Egwu will have his work cut out for him. But what's this? One of the Weasleys-"

"I think it's Fred. Could also be George."

"It's a fifty percent chance either way. Weasley aims a Bludger at Hopper, but it looks like... Yes, Bludger is deflected by Lee. Excellent defence from newcomer Lee there, leaving Hopper free to shoot. She shoots, and she scores!"

"Ten points to... Which team is that?"

It was not Artemis' team that had scored, but she applauded anyway as Ellie Hopper flew away from the goalposts and smiled at Barnaby, who blushed and dropped his Beater's bat. 

On the other side of the pitch, Artemis thought she could see a flash of something gold, so she flew closer to investigate. She wasn't the only one. Charlie Weasley must have seen the same thing, for he flew in the same direction. 

"You saw it too, then?" he asked her, his eyes scanning the pitch.

"Dunno what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't."

Artemis stopped feigning ignorance and grinned before squinting to try and see the snitch, to no avail.

"I think it's gone," she said, frowning.

"I think you're right," replied Charlie, but he kept looking for a few more seconds before shrugging and turning to her. "What's the score?" 

"You're asking the wrong person. I think my team is winning, though."

"For now, maybe. Ow! That's a foul, you know."

Of course, Artemis did know, but she didn't care. She laughed and zoomed away from Charlie, leaving him to rub his upper arm where she had just flown into him sideways. She took both hands from her broomstick and held her arms wide as she accelerated, raising her face to the sunlight and feeling the breeze filter through her outstretched fingers. She was going to miss this feeling.

The sound of applause from down below drew her attention back to the game, and she saw that Beatrice Haywood had managed to score a goal for her own team. She clapped her hands, and scanned the pitch once more for the Snitch.

And she saw it.

There, near the other team's goalposts, the tiny golden ball was flitting around the hoops, weaving its way between them. Artemis put her hands back on the broom and accelerated towards it, the wind whipping her face and hair as she flew faster and faster through the air. She was focussing so hard on the Snitch that she almost didn't notice Charlie in her peripheral vision, but she just about managed to catch a glimpse of his distinctive red hair. She pushed further forward, descending into a dive as the Golden Snitch spiralled down the length of the middle goalpost. 

Having nearly reached the ground, the Snitch shot out across the middle of the pitch, flying so low to the ground that it was almost touching the grass. Artemis pulled out of the dive and swerved to follow it, and so did Charlie. 

Her broom was the better model, more suited to sharp turns than Charlie's, but he was the more skilled flier. He turned with pinpoint precision, and accelerated after the ball. Artemis flattened herself so low to her broom that her chin almost touched the handle, willing it to fly faster, but Charlie was gaining speed, and now they were neck and neck, and the Snitch was so close, so very close.

Artemis reached out her hand to catch it, but it ducked under her hand and dodged sideways, closer to Charlie. In desperation, she slammed her hand down, hard. She did so with such speed and force that she forgot to brake and her broom slipped out from beneath her, but she didn't care. Beneath her right palm, the Snitch's left wing was trapped and pinned to the ground. Unfortunately, however, the other wing was also trapped by another hand. As she had fallen from her broom, Charlie had jumped from his own, and had also managed to trap the Snitch by holding it down to the ground.

“Now what?”

The other players flew down and dismounted their broomsticks. 

"Well, I think the fairest thing to do would be to see who touched it first," said Penny. "After all, don't Snitches have flesh memories?"

"They do, but this one is second-hand. It'll say I caught it, regardless of who did this time."

"So, what do we do?"

Charlie turned to Artemis. "Tie?"

That was good enough for her. "Tie."

Murphy and Lee Jordan called out the final scores, but Artemis was no longer listening at all. Not just because she didn't mind about winning or losing, but because from under the stands, she could see someone emerging who looked incredibly familiar, even from the distance.

"Hey, Hexley, isn't that..."

"It's my brother," she said. "It's Jacob."

She waved the others ahead and walked across the pitch towards her brother, who began to clap his hands as she approached him. 

"Not bad," he grinned. "You're a decent flier."

Artemis shrugged. "I was just taught well."

"Humble, too. No wonder the hat put you in Hufflepuff," Jacob looked across at Artemis' friends, many of whom were surreptitiously watching the pair of them. "Want to get out of here?"

Together, Artemis and Jacob made their way through the grounds to the covered bridge, which gave them a clear view over the Forbidden Forest in one direction and the Black Lake in the other. Jacob looked out at both as if he'd never seen them before.

"I don't think I'll ever get over these views," he said. "Although any view is an improvement on what I've been staring at for the last ten months."

Artemis looked at her brother properly. He was paler than he used to be, his robes hung from his body as if they were too big for him, and his cheekbones were more pronounced than ever. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, and his smile didn't quite reach them. 

"I'm sorry I didn't write to you. I would’ve done, but I didn't know they let you send letters to Azkaban," she told him. "When did they let you go?" 

"Late last night."

"But Dumbledore asked them to release you weeks ago!"

"Yes, but because lying in a court of magical law is also a crime, I had to finish a shorter sentence before I could leave," Jacob explained. "So last night it was. Didn't want to be alone, so I stayed at Newt and Tina's. I came here as soon as they stopped telling me about your photo competition. Uncle Newt is incredibly pleased that you are the second-best magizoological photographer in the country. He's had the article framed and everything."

"He has?"

"Twice. Apparently one of the Crups ate the first frame."

A small laugh escaped Artemis' mouth, and the fine lines in the corners of Jacob's eyes deepened as his smile widened. 

"Did they tell you about the leaving ceremony tomorrow?" she asked, and he nodded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her last invitation. "Do you want to come?"

"Definitely. I think I've missed enough already," Jacob said. He took the invitation from her and wrapped his arms around her. "It seems very strange to think of you being old enough to leave Hogwarts."

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do next?"

"What I'm good at," said Artemis. "Curse-breaking. I've applied for the training position at Gringotts." She frowned. "What will you do? Where will you go?"

"I want to solve mysteries. The mysteries." For the first time since Artemis could remember, Jacob's eyes brightened. Not understanding his meaning, her eyebrows furrowed deeper, and he explained, "Mysteries that have been around for so long that people have forgotten they ever even existed. Like the Chamber of Secrets or the Fountain of Fair Fortune."

"Those are just stories. They're not real."

"Muggles believe that Merlin is just a story. We were told that the Cursed Vaults weren't real. They are, they've just been talked about so much that people have stopped believing in them. In every legend there's an element of truth, and so I want to find out exactly how much truth there is in everything we now consider to be a legend. As for where that will take me, I don't know."

Artemis swallowed. "So, you'll leave? And I won't know where you'll be going or when you'll be back?"

"Or you could come with me."

"You really mean it? You and me, going around the world, and working together?"

"Why not? Between us, we managed to do the impossible with the Vaults. What's to stop us from doing more impossible things?"

Artemis could scarcely believe her ears. This was everything she had ever wanted to hear, everything she had longed for in all those years of searching and missing her brother. And yet... 

Perhaps it was just that it felt too good to be true, or perhaps it was because she already felt homesick for Hogwarts, or because so much had changed, but she felt suddenly apprehensive. It was as if she were being pulled in two different directions, and she didn't know which way she should go. So, instead of agreeing, she asked:

"What about Gringotts?"

"You don't have to go to Gringotts. I doubt you'd like it, anyway. They have a lot of rules their curse-breakers have to follow, and there's a lot of studying and paperwork you'd have-"

"You don't know that," Artemis said. "You've never worked for Gringotts."

"Patricia used to talk about it."

"Patricia? Oh, Madam Rakepick," Artemis nodded, and gave a little shudder. "It's so strange hearing you call her that, thinking how you were friends, after everything she did." Jacob made a humming noise, and Artemis continued, "Did you know Merula wrote to her about Gringotts and asked her to write us both recommendations?"

"No."

"Yeah. She actually did it as well. Wrote the letters."

"Makes sense," said Jacob. Artemis stared at him incredulously. "She saw something of herself in you. I think she was quite fond of you."

"Yeah, she seemed really fond all those times she tried to murder me."

"She was fond of you, but she cared about the Vaults more."

"Like Dad?"

She hadn't meant to say it. She had been so happy to see Jacob that she hadn't wanted to bring up everything she had seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve the night she destroyed the final Vault. She didn't want to feel angry at Jacob, not after he had just spent months and months in Azkaban to keep her safe, without her even writing him a letter.

"You know about Dad?" Jacob asked, his body stiffening.

"Yeah. Dumbledore told me-"

"He shouldn't have done that."

"- and Ma gave me back my memories." Jacob didn't respond, so Artemis elaborated. "You know, the ones you stole from me."

"Look, you don't…” Jacob sighed. “You were six years old, Artemis. You were confused and scared, and it was better that you didn't remember what happened. You were better off without those memories."

"I don't care. They were mine. You had no right to-"

"Actually, Artemis, I did have the right. After Dad died, I was left in charge of everything, including you."

Artemis glowered at him. "This is the part where you're supposed to apologise."

"I'm not going to apologise to you for doing the right thing," Jacob told her. "You might not like it, but I did it to protect you. Every single thing I have done has been to protect you, and some of it might not have been to your liking. Some of it wasn't to my liking either, but I did it anyway, because there is nothing - nothing - that I wouldn't do to keep you safe."

He stopped talking and turned his face away from her to look out over the grounds. Artemis frowned. His words echoed in her ears, reminding her of something someone else had told her, not too long ago. Duncan Ashe.

She bit her lower lip before asking in a quiet voice: "Like betray someone to R, you mean?"

"What are you talking about?"

Jacob asked the question in a level voice and with only a moment’s hesitation, but in that split second before he spoke, what little colour her had left in his cheeks drained from them entirely, and even in profile Artemis could see that his eyes had widened, just a fraction.

"I'm talking about Duncan," she told him, and he exhaled. "He thought that you betrayed him, had chosen him to die over me. He said that you'd told him yourself, and I thought he had just gotten the wrong end of the wand, but..." Artemis shook her head. She had just seen the truth on Jacob’s face. "You did, didn't you? You deliberately made it seem like he was the person you cared about more than anything or anyone else, just so that the Cabal wouldn't come after me."

Slowly, Jacob nodded his head. "It was the only way, so I... That I will apologise for."

The look in his eyes was one of genuine guilt. And something else, Artemis realised, as he looked at her properly. She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked away again. As he did, she realised what it was. 

Relief.

"What else?" she asked him, her blood running cold as she did so. She wasn't sure whether she really wanted to know the answer, but she still repeated her question. "What else did you do?"

Jacob said nothing, just continued to look out at the grounds. There were tears in his eyes. Something in the front of his neck moved up and down. Artemis followed his gaze and saw that it was focused on the Forbidden Forest. She closed her eyes. 

"The letter," she murmured. "The one Corey found. The handwriting, it... I thought it looked funny. Different. I assumed it had been written in a rush, but..." 

She opened her eyes, but she was still unable to see the forest. Even Jacob was blurry through her tears as she looked at him and asked him:

"Was it you? Jacob, did you send that letter to Rowan?"

"Artemis..."

"You did. You sent it. All this time I thought it was my fault, and all of this time... It was you." Artemis' sense of cold dread was draining from her. She was growing hot all over, almost burning with rage. "You plotted it, all of it. You and Patricia. You're the reason Rowan was there in that forest that night, and you're the reason she..."

Jacob looked her in the eye and told her: "I'm sorry."

"Would you do it again?" 

Artemis' question hung in the air, unanswered.

"Then you're not sorry," she said, half-spitting the words at him. "And I don't have to forgive you."

"I didn't ask you to forgive me."

"Good, because I don't, and I never will. I'll never forgive you." Jacob closed his eyes, but Artemis' stayed open, staring at him in contempt. "You know what? You should just leave and not tell me where you're going or when you'll be coming back. I don't even care anymore. And I'll be having this." She snatched her invitation from his hands so furiously that it was a miracle it didn't rip in half. "I don't want you at the ceremony. I don't want you anywhere near me or my friends. Here, you can have this back instead."

Her fingers trembled as she removed the watch Jacob had given her for safekeeping all those years ago, making her fumble as she undid the clasp. Jacob watched her with his eyes wide.

"I don't want it," he said gently.

"Neither do I. I don't want any part of you."

Finally she managed to take the watch off. She threw it at Jacob's feet, not even caring if it broke, and glared at him, daring him to contradict her.

"You'll always have a part of me, Artemis. Like it or not, I'll always be your brother."

"I already have a brother. His name is Bill."

She had nothing left to say, so she turned tail and ran away, down the covered bridge, out past the stone circle, and through the grounds, her heart pounding and aching and breaking. 

Nearing the owlery, she stopped and half-threw herself down under the red-berried tree outside. Her head on her hands and her elbows on her knees, she let out a strangled scream, not caring if she startled the group of Thestrals that were grazing on the grass behind her. 

Her whole life, everything she ever had been, had been defined by the Cursed Vaults. And now, the Vaults were gone and she was leaving Hogwarts, and she wasn't Jacob's younger sister anymore, nor was she the Cursed Vault girl, or even the Hufflepuff prefect or Seeker. She was just... Well, she didn't really know who she was without all that. So, what was she supposed to do now?

She unfolded herself from the ball she had curled herself into and looked up at the branches above her, adorned with red berries and green leaves. The last two times she had come here had been on New Year's Eve - Rowan's birthday - and the tree had been almost bare. Now, it was full of life, but it would be bare again by December. That was just how things went. They kept going on. And so would she. 

She looked down at her hands, still clutching the invitation to the leaving ceremony that had been meant for Jacob, and an idea came to her. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the invitation in her hand, duplicating it wordlessly, and  carried the invitations up to the owlery. As she stood in the doorway watching two owls fly away from her, one due south and the other in the direction of the village, she wondered why it had taken her so long to send them, and hoped that she hadn't left it too late to do so.

The clock tower bell chimed seven times, and she returned back to the castle, her home for one last night, where the end of term feast would soon be beginning.

The sun rose early the morning that Artemis awoke in her dormitory for the final time, and so did she and her friends. With seven years’ worth of textbooks, clothes, assorted knick-knacks, and a single bat having having found a home in the room, sorting everything out had proved to be somewhat of a challenge, and they still had the last few items to pack before they could attend the leaving ceremony.

“Whose scrunchies are all these?” Chiara asked, holding up five hair bands for the other girls to claim. “And that scarf isn’t mine, either.”

She pointed to a striped cardigan that was draped over the end of her bed. Fergus lay belly up beneath it, batting the pom-pom tassels with his forepaws. Artemis stopped unpinning the photos from behind her headboard to look at it, her chest tightening as she did so.

“It’s Rowan’s,” she said. “She bought it in Diagon Alley the day we first met.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I… Not if anyone else wants it.”

“Nah, you take it,” said Tonks. “You were there when she bought it. She was your friend from the beginning.”

Penny, whose face had been pink and eyes dewy since the night before, promptly burst into tears. Artemis let go of the scarf.

“You can have it if you like, Penny. I don’t mind.”

But Penny dismissed her offer with a shake of her head.

“It’s not the scarf, I just…” she sniffed and looked around the dormitory. “It’s just that we’re really leaving, and we won’t come back in September and all be here together. I just… I can’t believe it’s all ending. It feels so… so…”

Artemis swallowed hard as Penny’s voice tailed off. She understood all the feelings her friend was struggling to put into words.

“We were always going to leave eventually,” said Chiara. She put down her packing and walked over to hug Penny. “And it’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

Penny wiped away her tears and nodded. “Well, yes, okay. But you have to promise, all of you, that we will all stay friends, no matter what happens. We will write to each other, and we will make sure that we meet up whenever we can, and you’ll all come and visit me in Paris.”

“Eh,” Tonks shrugged. “I’m probably just going to find some new friends. Honestly, I’ve spent the last seven years waiting to get rid of you.”

She winked at Artemis, who tried to keep a straight face as she told Penny: “Yeah, about Paris… I think I might be busy that week, actually.”

Penny reached into her trunk, pulled out her favourite slippers, and threw one at each of them.

“You’re both horrible!” she shouted, but she was at least laughing now.

The girls’ laughter carried with them as they left the Hufflepuff common room one last time and made their way up to the Great Hall, where the professors, all dressed in formal robes and ornate hats, were gathered with their families. Floating trays of sparkling liquid in tall glasses drifted between the guests, the benches had been arranged in rows facing the top table, and stacks of black pointed hats had been placed on the daïs. 

Penny was quick to find her family and drag them over to greet Chiara’s parents, and Tonks made her way over to where her mother and father were chatting with two older witches who each had an arm around Tulip Karasu. Artemis went to greet her own guests, pleased to see that all four of her invitees were in attendance; not just her great-aunt and uncle, but Madam Rosmerta and Kingsley Shacklebolt as well. She hugged each of them in turn.

“I thought you might not be able to make it,” she said to Ros and Kingsley. “I left it so late to send the invitations.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you, Tiny,” replied Kingsley, with a deep chuckle. Madam Rosmerta squeezed Artemis’ shoulder.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Now, where’s your camera?”

Rosmerta wasn’t the only adult wanting to take photos. Once she and Artemis’ friends’ family members were satisfied that they had enough photos of the graduating students, Professor McGonagall tapped her glass with a spoon, and the guests took to their seats. She held out a scroll of parchment, and told the students:

“When I call your name, you will come to the daïs, and have a hat placed on your head before you sit down. Ali, Badeea!”

One by one, each of the students approached the daïs and had Professor Dumbledore shake their hand and put one of the smart black pointed hats placed on their head, while the rest of the hall applauded gently. Once Talbott Winger’s hand had been shaken and a hat placed on his tawny-haired head, McGonagall rolled up her scroll, and Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“And so, that’s that,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “Every year we greet a new set of students and say goodbye to another, and it appears that we have come full circle, once again. This is always a bittersweet moment as educators. Even our more stoic members of staff” - Artemis could have sworn that he glanced at Professor Snape - “have forged strong bonds with the young people sitting before me today, and we will miss you all sorely, just as I flatter myself to think that you will miss us in return.

“For the last seven years, Hogwarts has been a place of safety - by and large - and a home away from home for you. I understand how unsettling it can feel to leave, to be sent out into the world and all the uncertainty that it holds. I can tell you all I like that Hogwarts will always be your home, but as true as that is, I fear that it will be little reassurance to you. So, instead, let me say this:

“You may have heard it said that circle has no ending. This is true, however, it is also true that a circle has many endings. In fact, it has a multitude of endings, an infinite number of them, but,” Dumbledore paused, his lips twitching slightly, “each of those endings is also a beginning. And so, while this may feel like the end, it is not. It is merely the beginning.

“In that spirit, it is time for you all to return to the place where you began, ready to end this journey and begin a new one, wherever it may take you.”

The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and Professor McGonagall led the final years out into the entrance courtyard, where Hagrid was waiting for them, with tears in his eyes and Fergus the cat in his arms.

“I reckon ‘e was worried yeh were goin’ ter leave withou’ ‘im,” he whispered to Artemis, who grinned and let Fergus climb onto her shoulders.

“I could never do that.”

She stayed near the front of the procession of students, teachers, and guests that followed Hagrid down the cliff path to the Black Lake, where the boats were ready and waiting on the shore.

“Four to a boa’!”

As Penny and Chiara climbed into a boat with Jae and Ben, Artemis and Fergus climbed into an adjacent one with Tonks and Charlie, Hagrid steadying the boat as they climbed in. 

“We’re missing a fourth person,” said Tonks, her pink eyebrows furrowing. “Should we ask-”

“No,” Artemis shook her head and pulled the pom-pom-tasselled scarf from her cloak pocket and placed it on the bench next to her. “This seat is taken.”

She avoided looking either Tonks or Charlie in the eye by watching others as they began to float away in nearby boats. Murphy McNully had joined Andre, Tulip, and Badeea in one, while the Slytherins - Merula, Ismelda, Ben, and Liz - were in another. Diego and Corey were sharing a third with Talbott and Victor Ketsueki, who raised his eyebrows at Artemis. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled to herself once she’d looked away, back at the shore where the guests had gathered with the teachers.

Bill Weasley waved to her with the arm that wasn’t wrapped around his mother’s shoulders as she cried into a handkerchief, and Kingsley nodded to her before conjuring another handkerchief and passing it to little Beatrice Haywood, who had been using her sleeve to wipe her tears from her face. Madam Rosmerta was smiling, and two Crups were yapping at her Aunt and Uncle’s feet. Professor Dumbledore bowed his head to her, and the clock tower bell chimed ten times. 

The sun was not yet high in the sky, but its beams burst through the scattered clouds of the midsummer morning, illuminating the castle and basking it in a soft golden glow. Artemis smiled to herself. 

This was how she wanted to remember Hogwarts: golden, glorious, and finally at peace, for however long that peace would last. She kept her eyes on the castle that had been her home as the little wooden boats carried her and friends away towards their yet unknown futures, across the still and slightly glittering waters of the lake that no longer held a Cursed Vault.

[jiminsproof]

the most difficult tag game to ever attack me in my hour of need (what she means is a saturday) ✨️

I was tagged by @kimchokejin to post my top 5 of bangtan songs!!!!! haha THIS IS FINE!!! very happy to have an opportunity to talk about my favourite songs but VERY SAD I HAVE TO CHOOSE. 😭 thank you Ashley, reading your post was an amazing experience and I recommend it to all. 😩👌 you're lucky you're not only smart, but also funny and pretty, otherwise you'd catch these hands in the metaphorical parking lot of life

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO and no specific order:

🍷dionysus🍷

I wanted to start with a song that actually got me into bangtan!! JUNG HOSEOK YOUR MIND. I think I've told this to some of my lovely mutuals here before, but to me this song is really built like a rock song if that makes sense?? the build up and structure is so similar!! but it is also so HIP HOP and CATCHY and lyrics are ABSOLUTE ART. as a greek mythology hoe i had no choice but to stan bangtan sonyeondan. it is also widely known as natalia's wine song among my friends so you can say i like it a little.

🥲outro: tear🥲

I love this masterpiece beyond words. If I had to pick just one bangtan song to listen to forever, I'd possibly pick this one though PLEASE DON'T TELL MOM* (*my other bias). This song got me through a lot!! The lyrics are so beautiful and heartbreaking, and it hits even more after you know the context in which they were written. YOONGI MARRY ME as usual he is a genius he said so himself but also Hobi kills me every single time with his performance of the last verse. I have NEVER not cried watching a live performance of him rapping it. The emotions he gets across are... pardon my French but holy fuckity fuck.

😩lie😩

speaking of my other bias... LISTEN. I love Filter as any other folk BUT if I have to pick just one out of Jimin's solo songs, it has to be this one. It has it all, beautiful performance, identity crisis vibes, stunning vocals of the baby himself, AND THOSE LYRICS TOO. It hits so much especially if you've had to hide yourself in one way or another, and it can be applied to so many situations - power of art and Park Jimin. also, in my mind, this one and bs&t are connected...? idk if by the vibes or the era, but I love both of them almost equally, though this one still hits harder. also, although the performance completes it very well and Jimin can express the emotions so well through movement (one of my very favourite things about him as a performer), it can easily stand on its own and it's still so captivating!!

🦋butterfly🦋

This song is so beautiful in EVERY SINGLE WAY. The soft vocals, the longing, the lyrics!! It's such a good depiction of young love (or just very soft love, sort of 'too-good-to-be-true' love), NOT TO MENTION THE HARUKI MURAKAMI REFERENCE I SEE YOU KIM NAMJOON (and I love you). It might be my favourite track from the whole HYYH era actually though please don't ask me 'and what about [insert track] cause I WILL change my mind. The vocal line shines in this one, not only for their skill but PRIMARILY their emotional expression. I'm a big fan in case you haven't noticed??

🦢 black swan 🦢

I honestly love this song so much!! Not only is the concept beautiful and the performance is ABSOLUTELY STUNNING HAVE NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE (bangtan sonyeondan trendsetters), and even the mv is something you can watch multiple times in one go because it's so aesthetically pleasing, but also there is the song IN ITSELF. It's so raw and honest, and let me preach about the lyrics once again (KIM NAMJOON!!! CATCH THESE HANDS!!!) - it's such an amazing depiction of an artistic burnout, oh my god. the idea in itself that the first time an artist (or here more so a dancer) dies is when they no longer have energy to continue with their craft... IT'S SO POWERFUL.

🤧epilogue: young forever🤧 no this is not 6 you just can't count sorry you had to find out this way

this one is just always going to hit different, and even more so the live version. the lyrics are... I can't even stress it enough, but they might have altered something in my brain chemistry. The idealisation of youth, never wanting your best moments to end, but also knowing that there is no way to stop the time from passing - WOW. WOW. Also I especially love the lines about running endlessly towards your dream even if it hurts you - it just HITS SO HARD. Even though in terms of the way it's built, it's quite a simple song, it really gets the message across perfectly and I love it for its straightforwardness!!

honorable mentions: whole bts discography actually but especially autumn leaves, mic drop (my most streamed bangtan song), boy meets evil, epiphany (I WISH IT MADE TO THIS LIST TF it's so important to me), paradise, outro: her (BIPHOBIC THAT I CAN'T PUT IT ON THIS LIST), magic shop, intro: persona, first love, make it right, home, intro: singularity (AND SAME WITH THISONEHSIFKDK) .. ok I should stop???

hello to my fellow sufferers 🫂💗 I'm doing this out of love I swear, and also NO PRESSURE AT ALL this shit hurts: @pjm-1 , @wistfulocean, @shrimpmsg, @aprylynn, @hopeonthestreets, @hopeinthebox, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @ki-limepie. 💗

[castalyne]

Some head canons I have for Stephen Holder's life that happen between Linden leaving and the epilogue:

-If there's anybody who's totally enthralled with the idea of pregnancy, it's Stephen Holder. He was more taken by Caroline's constantly changing body and the idea of creating a new life even when she wasn't always in a good mood from pregnancy soreness. This man was more than willing to make sure she was comfortable.

-He read ALL the pregnancy books and the two decided on going to a birth center because it seemed like a happy medium between a hospital birth or home birth. Kalia's birth was pretty straight forward with minimal complications.

-Holder cries at Kalia's birth because he's an more of an emotional sap than people give him credit for and there's something about child birth that just marks the end for him and he finds himself crying more at the little things than he ever did before.

-He's a little relieved with the gender of his baby. While he still worries about fucking his kid up regardless of gender, he feels like if Kalia were a boy, he'd fuck it up harder like his dad did with him.

-However, having a girl had it's own set of worries. The first couple weeks after Kalia's birth, he had terrible nightmares about the Pied Piper case; swimming around in the lake looking for Kalia in a sea of red body bags while her cries get further away. These nightmares increase in volume around March every year.

-Stephen Holder has the best and worst time around the month of October. It starts with the his daughters birthday on the 10th and ends with Bullet's birthday on the 28th.

-He made Sargent sometime after Linden left, figured he'd continue on with that because he really wanted a job where he could 'help' people and officer work was aligned with 'helping' people and was largely disappointed when he actually passed the test and got the position.

-Caroline's firm offered her more money and a better position when she'd get off maternity leave, saw how Holder was suffering and offered him the stay at home parent position instead so he could think more on if the Sargent thing was something he really wanted to do.

-Found his community centre job through some parent and baby activity class he was doing with Kalia.

-Holder and Caroline did get married when Kalia was 4 months old. It was a court house ordeal. Kalia was the nicest dressed out of the three, wearing a frilly floral print dress. Holder keeps a picture from that day of him holding Kalia and both him and Caroline are both more enthralled with their daughter then actually tying the knot.

-Holder and Caroline got divorced when Kalia was a year and two months. It was an easy move for him as most of his stuff was in storage at that point after he moved in with Caroline. He started renting a smaller town house in decent part of town with a tiny yard for Kalia to play outside in.

-He stopped calling Linden's cell the first week after she left but tried one more time a month later finding out the number had been cut.

-He still texts Jack from time to time. Mostly to send him pictures of Kalia and himself. They never talk about Linden. The one time Jack does is to mention she was there for his graduation.

Three headcanons nobody asked for:

-He's gotten really good at making comfort foods and breakfast.

-Has shitty circulation and by extension, has really cold hands. He won't hesitate to slide cold hands against exposed skin. 'cold hands, warm heart'.

-Occasional marijuana smoker for mild pain and sleep issues. Never on weekends when Kalia is there.

[pianocat939]

Can you do one where reader comforts snake fruit cookie after they had a nightmare about how they failed their goal?

We all see Snake Fruit as a gaslighting, total soft bby.

I kinda got dramatic lmao

Tw: Nightmares, being a failure, reference to people leaving you, I didn’t edit.

Worth Debating

• Dark clouds painted over the sky, casing the moon with grey puffs. The villages and cities soon went to bed, leaving the world in a quiet epilogue for the day.

• Of this big world, lay a residence. Inside it, snakes hiss and slide quietly, trying not to disturb their master and their beloved. After all, their master has not been in high hopes lately.

• In the bed chambers of the higher-up, slept a cookie with snake-like features. Their tail was securely coiled around their lover’s legs and lower torso, keeping them close. In the summer, during the night it is cool, but only a thin blanket covered the two.

• Into the world of fantasies and horrors…

——————————————————

• You could feel Snake Fruit’s tail coil tighter around you, almost painfully so. Then some shuffling and movement from beside woke you up.

• “Snake Fruit? What are you doing?” You question, words slurred from your long rest. They didn’t answer, moving around erratically.

• Their tail now grip your lower body painfully, causing discomfort. “Snakey, my legs are starting to hurt.” You lightly shake their shoulder, trying to get them to awaken.

• Slightly worried you gingerly tap their cheek, “Hey, wake up Snakey~ This tail of yours is really starting to hurt.” Ragged breathing responded back. Now worried, you try to get some sort of sign of consciousness.

• Shaking, poking, and squeezing; anything to get them to wake up.

• Finally they open their eyes, grasping on your clothes with vigor. “You’re here right? I’m not dreaming right?” They rush through their words seemingly in disbelief.

• You pat their head and hug them, “I’m here. You were moving a lot in you sleep. Did you have a bad dream?” The tail loosened, now laying still on your lap.

• “I- I thought you left me.” Their breathing was shaky. “Ssince I failed my goal as becoming a dragon, you- you- left me in dissappointment.” They started to cry, body quivering in fear and dread.

• “Hey, hey, I won’t leave you for such a thing. I would never. You’re always gonna be my Snakey, dragon or not.”

• “But- but I failed! I didn’t live my dreamss! They’ll never resspect me, I’ll always be a snake!” They cried even harder, staining your clothes in a salty wetness.

• “It’s a problem with themselves if they don’t respect you. It’s not your fault.”

• You got off from the bed and stood up, “I’m gonna go get a drink for you. You cried a lot so you need hydration.”

• “No!” They jumped from the volume of their voice. “Sstay with me, drinking can come later.”

• You softly smiled and wrapped your arms around them, “Of course.”

• Tears and nightmares aren’t worth debating about.

——————————————————

This took longer to write sorry. I was busy this noon in Shibuya so it took me a while.

- Celina

[derpycat02]

So my friend has been sending me a few of these recently on tik tok

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRnVc66Q/

Every time he does, I send back an answer to the writing prompt. Except instead of just a sentence, I build the scene and then write a few paragraphs.

I really love writing, and upon asking if I should post it, my friend encouraged me to share it with you.

It reads a little awkward because instead of actual characters, I use character types. Like if art templates were characters in a novel. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

⚠️TW⚠️ CHARACTER DEATH PROCEED WITH CAUTION

(imagine that immediately before this, BBEG took a cheap shot at Hero and Main Support character pushed Hero out of the way, getting injured and sending Hero into enough of a fury to finish the battle once and for all. After the finishing blow [and a couple double taps] Hero snaps out of it and rushes to Main Support's side. The battle, the war, the conflict is all over, but the time it took to ensure that also sealed the fate of Main Support. This character can be a best friend, sidekick, lover, or sibling)

"You cut that out you hear me?" Hero snapped, through tears and gritted teeth as they tried desperately to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood. Why was there so much blood? "You're GOING to be okay. And we're going to go home, and rest you up and then everything is going to go back to the way it's supposed to you hear me? You're going to follow that dream, and I'll support you every step of the way just like you supported me. And we're going to have sleepovers, and pillow fights, and trips to the water park and you're going to get to experience thing for the first time and-"

"Hero..." Main Support weakly put their shaky hand over Hero's trembling one. "No we're not..."

"We ARE!" Hero cried, shaking their head in denial as they pressed harder. "We just have to wait for the paramedics to get here and then-"

"No one's coming Hero..." Main Support shook their head, a peaceful smile on their face, "and if they are they won't make it in time. I'm dying hero..."

Hero simply fell silent, frantically trying to save Main Support. This was all their fault. If they hadn't been so reckless, Main Support would be fine right now. If only they had been more vigilant, had payed closer attention. For the first time it registered to them that their hands were shaking. Were they crying? Reality hit Hero like a bullet train, trading the panic for despair. "What...?" they began shakily, "What am I supposed to do without you...?"

Main Support used all the energy they could muster to squeeze Hero's hand. "What you've always done...make the world a better place. A safer place. And then fight to keep it that way."

Hero grit their teeth, biting back sobs that threatened to strangle them. "I will..." they mumbled, squeezing Main Support's hand in return and fighting to keep their voice from wavering. "I will. I promise."

"...Hero...?" Main Support spoke after a pause, their voice somehow even smaller than before. "I'm... I'm scared... will you hold me...one last time...?"

Hero let out a pained squeak as they scooped up the limp, broken body of their closest ally, holding them close in a gentle embrace. "You don't need to be scared..." they whispered. "I've got you." They would protect Main Support, even if for only one last time. It only took a few moments for Hero to feel the body go limp in their arms. Gripping them tighter, they allowed themself to release the sobs that they had been holding back, collapsing in on themself with a pained cry.

(And then we'd get an epilogue about what happens next)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Be sure to let me know in the comments or through the tags if this is something y'all would like to see more of! (Although I may just go ahead and post more of it anyway 😅) Thanks so much for your time! 💖😁

[guacameowle]

It took me over two hours to read Mitsunari’s Act 2 ending because I was crying the entire time & couldn’t read past all the fucking tears.

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[nsheetee]

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

“Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his  chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here