#idk i was so so surprised for god knows what reason! perhaps bc it was so intertwined with abby even though the r/s is. so obviously over?

[unnecessarilygrandiose]

oh my god it's buck, actually

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙club classics | GR63˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: george russell x singer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: idk anything abt brat lol, addison rae cameo bc i love her, not much else

summary: in which you finally hard launch via song and the fans go wild!!! or in which two very different worlds collide...

a/n: i dnt listen to charli xcx so im srry if this is soo crap but i liked the idea so wanted to try it hope it's ok!!! obsessed w george a bit so expect more of him 👀

request!!!: helloooo could you please write a George smau where he’s dating a singer!reader who is releasing a new album idk if you listen to Charli xcx but on her new album she has a song called club classics where it says ‘I wanna dance with George’ could you write something where they reveal their relationship this way

my masterlist

fc: charli xcx

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by billieeilish, alex_albon, and others

yourusername his prettiest problem

view all comments

user1 iktrrrr

user2 HIS???

user3 does she have a bf omg

user4 nooo dont tell me i lost y/n to a man

user5 love y/n & addison friendship

user6 ur so hot y/n

user7 wait why is alex albon in the likes??

user8 wth so random

user9 who??

user10 random formula one driver lol

user11 are they dating?

user12 he has a gf alr💀

addisonraee my hottest solution

yourusername oh, kiss me already 🙆‍♀️

addisonraee you dont have to tell me twice 💋💋

user13 new music please 🙏

user14 y/n we're bored give us a summer banger

liked by yourusername

user15 her liking this.... she's cooking!

georgerussell63 posted a story

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and others

user16 urm??? hello

user17 what

user18 WHO?

user19 u have a gf george?

lewishamilton bring her to a race, georgie

georgerussell63 dont get too ahead 😆

landonorris congrats

landonorris cant wait to see everyone try and figure out who the hell ur girl is

georgerussell63 good luck to them

landonorris you'd be surprised actually

user20 running to twitter

user21 someone is gonna know all about this on twitter ...

twitter ->

instagram ->

georgerussell63 posted a story

liked by alex_albon, addisonraee, and others

user26 GEORGE

user27 no more

user28 WHO IS SHEEE

user29 neeeeed answers

landonorris still not met her

georgerussell63 for a reason

user30 this is so cute tbh

user31 oh how i love soft launch pics

yourusername posted a story

liked by lorde, alexademie, and others

user32 NEW MUSIC????

user33 omg it's happening

user34 this is not a drill!!!!

user35 hurry hurry we're desperate

addisonraee oh you tease!!!

yourusername oh i'll leak it to u bby 😻

addisonraee whoa. im lucky

alexademie hope im your muse

yourusername one of them perhaps 👀

alexademie player!!

user36 leak it

user37 thank god. y/n is here to save music

yourusername

liked by landonorris, addisonraee, and others

yourusername i wanna danceee

view all comments

user38 oh now this is a soft launch fr...

user39 no way...

user40 NOOO WE LOST HER

user41 MORE F1 DRIVERS IN HER LIKES???

user42 so random!!!

user43 maybe she's gonna go to a race!

user44 get back in the studio 😊😊😊

billieeilish no way, we lost the coolest girl alive to a man

liked by yourusername

user45 HAHAHA

user46 realest shit ever

user47 TWO soft launch pics omg???

user48 someone pls find out who he is.

addisonraee let's dance all niiight

yourusername 🪩🪩🪩

user49 lando liking is he shooting his shot xx

user50 no more posts unless it's an album announcement y/n!!!

liked by yourusername

user51 HER LIKING!!!

user52 bc something is coming 👀

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by georgerussell63, sabrinacarpenter, and others

user53 OH MY GODDDD

user54 omg i can't believe it's true

user55 mercedes omg TASTEEE

user56 so real for this

addisonraee get it girl

liked by yourusername

user57 omg lewis & george r so lucky

user58 my two worlds colliding oh my god

user59 u suit merc sm queen

sabrinacarpenter oh i know why you're there & it isn't for the cars! 👀

yourusername ...no comment

twitter ->

instagram ->

georgerussell63 posted a story

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others

user68 y/n is that u?

user69 that is so y/n

user70 OH TO BE Y/N

user71 the twitter detectives have sussed u guys out i fear

landonorris ok george we get it

georgerussell63 the world needs to know my gf is hot as hell

landonorris riiiiight

alex_albon congrats, everyone knows!

georgerussell63 huh?

alex_albon just look online 😂

georgerussell63 oh. shit lol

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, and others

yourusername ‘club classics’ is yours right now. right now. right now. 🪩

view all comments

user72 STOP IT

user73 he can stay if it means we're gonna get new music more often 👀

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63

user74 URMMMM THE LYRICS

user75 waittt GUYS???

user76 wait....i wanna dance with.....WHO???

user77 I WANNA DANCE WITH GEORGE??????

user78 oh she heard hard launch and said BET

addisonraee obsessed with everything you do

yourusername luv u 💋

billieeilish she's done it againnnn

liked by yourusername

sabrinacarpenter in love!!

yourusername mwahh

user79 pop girlies support pop girlies!!!

user80 OH I LOVE YHIS SONGGGG

user81 another bop thank uuu

user82 i cant believe she wanna dance with george

user83 we figured it out but the confirmation is still shocking

user84 unbelievable win for george russell

georgerussell63 keep smashing it, gorgeous

liked by yourusername

user85 AWWW STOP IT

user86 nooo..... No way.... i love them

georgerussell63

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and others

georgerussell63 i wanna dance with her too

view all comments

user87 OH MY GOD

user88 oh i will never get over this

user89 SHE'S SO GORGEOUS

user90 omg the song is insane dont remind me rn george

user91 my two worlds colliding omg this is nuts

user92 cant tell who i want more loool

user93 obsessed with them so badly

landonorris i wanna dance!

yourusername COME PARTY W US LANDO!!!

georgerussell63 no dont invite him he always takes it too far

yourusername be fr. thts my kind of party

landonorris WOOHOOOO

user94 omg lando y/n friendship

user95 LOVE THISSSS SM

yourusername i love u in a serious way.

georgerussell63 i love you! never change

THE END 💙

[sugar-omi]

PLSSS I BEG OF U COVE HOLDEN X FEM!READER NEWLY MARRIED AND R JUST SO LOVEY DOVEY AND CANT GET ENOUGH OF EACH OTHER let me stop with the caps anyway as i was saying newly married cove and fem!reader on their honey moon to (insert place with nice oceans and views but you can take them anywhere you want) and they’re just sooo IN LOVE ITS DISGUSTING HOW IN LOVE THEY ARE you can add spice and intimacy if u want 🤷🏾❤️‼️

IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS ITS BEEN SITTING IN THE DRAFTS FOREVER.... im gonna blame it on my demon cat, its his fault he always wants to play outside i wanted a cat not a dog wtf !!!!! anyway here you go anon i loved writing this sm bc i have been thinking abt honeymoon hcs for awhile mmm<3333 also i jus wanna say cove is very much a "grabs your stomachs n prbly shakes it" man, like yk how your boyfriend is always grabbing your stomach idk at first i thought it was weird like "wtf is he grabbing your stomach n shaking it" but now i know. n cove does it ok i wont explain it but he also rubs anywhere, hes tracing your body n making shapes w his fingers on you, hes just so TOUCHY eta: I JUST REALIZED THIS LIKE 70% SMUT BUT UM.... ANYWAY 😁😁i hope you like it anyway, also added a hc's i forgot at the v bottom <3333

tags : fluff, step 4/wedding dlc, fem/afab reader (could be okay for masc/amab/nb readers as well if you ignore cove calling you 'wife' once), buff tatted cove, headcanons at the very bottom below the nsfw

+ NSFW (at the bottom), fem/afab reader, rough raw sex, creampie, missionary, v horny cove <3

perhaps i should make a part 2 with all the times n places cove fucks you during your honeymoon, mmm thats a good idea write that down write that down

synopsis : you and cove on your honeymoon to the bahamas !!

surprise to literally no one, you two pick the Bahamas for your honeymoon

it wasn't a hard pick. it was just a matter of where had the nicest views, open hotels, and safest locations, and with how cove got more starry-eyed with each solidified detail, the Bahamas was your destination.

if it wasn't for the fact that you just had an eventful wedding full of love from friends and family, plus the plane trip, cove would've dropped everything and ran for the glittering water.

once you're checked in and changed from your flight clothes into something a bit more dressy but comfortable, you and cove make your way for some much anticipated dinner.

when you're seated, the silence between you two is so easy and filled by the bustle of the restaurant.

across from you, cove is watching you with his chin hiked atop his clasped fingers, easily looking like a puppy.

"what? what're you staring at?" you laugh, taking a dip if your drink to uselessly wash away your fluster at your husband's blatant staring.

cove already has a rosy tint to his cheeks and if he was younger cove would've caught fire at being caught staring. instead he just grinned cheerily and happily, with a gaze of a man sick with love. "just admiring my wife."

you can't help but tuck your head a bit, flustered by his direct compliment. God you're in for a long marriage.

thank god, you think distantly.. a lifetime of being flustered by each other no matter how long you're together doesn't sound to bad at all.

while you're eating, you two respond to your family blowing up the "[Last] - Holden family" group chat, that was so courteously made by your snickering sister and cousin leading up to your wedding.

after a lovely dinner (only after you reassured cove that you had a few days to try out everything on the menu before the trip was over) you two took a well deserved nap together with cove tucked into your neck and your fingers in his hair. <3

okay listen... would it be bad to say you planned your wedding around your honeymoon

there's a reason!!!

i imagine you and cove (mostly cove) wanted to rent a house on the beach, or at least close to it, but i imagine its hard to snag one so once you finally got a place the wedding just fell around it

while you're in the bedroom sleeping, recovering and recharging, cove still gets up early to go play around on the beach.

not without a fight though!

when he wakes up the sky is still navy, and he flips over, feeling antsy to start the day and your activities.

but there you are, laying next to him in one of his shirts that you've stolen and your face is still scrunched up a bit from cove's movement which makes him settle down.

cove reaches to stroke your cheek, running his hand over your hair and he admires the way your face relaxes from the touch...

he feels like kicking and screaming right now, now looking at his ring(s) and remembering that you're married and you're his and he's yours and...

he's going to bawl his eyes out again.

so instead of crying and watching you until you wake up, which definitely won't be for another hour or more at least, he slowly untangles himself from you and the sheets.

it kills him a bit to do so, wanting nothing more than to be close to you every second of the day but he also wants to make you feel special today. he also can't stay in bed that long, he's too much of a busybody to do that..

so when you finally wake up, after much struggle and a lot of stretching, you drag yourself from the bed and tame your wild hair before you find your husband.

cove is leaning on the porch overlooking the beach, a random song playing lowly on the radio that you left on last night.

he whips around when you tug open the sliding door and abandons his orange juice to pull you into his arms and cove's rocking you two back n forth, kissing your jaw and cheek and he's holding your hand and compliments you.

"you look so pretty..."

"nice ring, your husband is really lucky." he says it with a smirk and you both laugh.

when he finally snaps out of his daze, totally bewitched by the warmth of the sun, view of the beach accompanied by the sound of waves and the way you lean into him had cove in a trance.

he leads you over to the kitchen where he insists you sit and watch while he makes breakfast.

in the end, you do end up spending most the day at the beach house. so when lee shoots a series of text asking about your day and if you did anything, you respond with a picture of you two buried in the blankets and a christmas hallmark movie on the TV, you laugh at her spam about how you should be enjoying the sand and waves instead of a out of season movie and respond with a meme.

the next day you spend a lot of it outside, and i even imagine you rent a boat to take out for the day or smth like that and it reminds you of when lee took you all out on a boat, but this time it was just the 2 of you

let me just say.. everyone even 5 miles away can tell you're on your honeymoon

cove is always looking at you

whether its to see how you react to a good joke

or you're telling a story and he's watching in admiration at your mannerisms while you speak

or you're at the booth ordering ice cream for the both of you

or even better, he's trying his best to capture you imagine as you walk back to him, squeezing out your slip/coverup that blew away and you laugh at him for capturing this moment instead of helping you.

"stop laughing! haha, it's not funny! *swats at him with the coverup* im taking your shirt to cover up with!"

many many pictures and videos of your honeymoon. they're mostly of you

or your shared favorite:

you're on top of cove and his eyes are closed so he doesn't notice you're recording him.

"you've gotten more tan. y'know that reminds me of when we were kids, you had such bad tan lines!" you laugh, the camera shaking.

he squints at you, squeezing your hips when he realizes you're recording him. "i did not."

"you did, i saw it. you had different tan lines from your shorts!" you tease loudly and giggle, thinking about the varying darkness of teenage-cove's tan lines because of how some of his swim shorts and pants hung lower than the other bottoms he'd wear.

cove jumps up a bit, laughing as he sputtered. "you saw that?!"

"yeah! you were the one with your v-line hanging out all the time, mister "i don't like wearing layers'!"

his look is full of love, and so is cove's hands running up and down your hips and back. but he's still smug when he says it and the wide smirk on his face makes you wanna kiss it off him.

"well you were the one looking, i didn't hear any complaints.."

you hit his shoulder, "you're so smug, you brat!", the camera shaking from your laughter.

cove is very handsy during this time

something about being married now has him seeking you out and keeping some form of contact between you

whether its holding hands, locking arms, or kissing you in public

he's always pulling you into him, wrapping a arm around your waist...

but when you're at the beach house.. well i hope you keep the curtains closed for the most part especially in the bedroom because clothes are pretty optional/limited during your honeymoon

usually cove's sex drive is pretty average, or low (i feel like at this point his drive matches yours but it's always a little lower depending on how high yours is, but thats for a different post okok)

so it surprises you how.. horny he is

he surprises himself too honestly

but he just wants to be close to you so bad!

you look so beautiful, and so happy... and now you're married and its like when he was a teenager all over again

the sun is coming through the windows, warming up your naked back.

you hum, enjoying the warmth and you feel the bed shift and now there's lips on your forehead, and cove's hand is running up and down your spine, rubbing soothingly across your shoulders.

"g'morning, y/n..." cove's gravely voice sends a shiver down your spine. "mmm, hi.." you tilt your head to the side, letting him kiss your cheek and the back of your neck.

you peak at him, still sleepy but enjoying the warmth and attention. you try to stretch your body, stretching out your legs and with how cove is leaned over you, your butt brushes against him and makes him gasp, his fingers squeezing your shoulder reflexively.

"at least let me brush my teeth..." you laugh, sitting up and after a second of looking at your clothes on the floor, you grab the robe on the chair beside you and lazily wrap it around you and shuffle to the bathroom.

cove is looking at you, you can feel his gaze and the second you disappear behind the door you hear him shuffling around before he comes behind you, dressed in nothing. cove didn't walk around naked often, only if he was walking around your bedroom finding his clothes for the day, but man was it a treat.

he wraps his arms around you, his hand rubbing your stomach and the other is wandering.

"c'mere..." you mumble, grabbing cove's toothbrush and sitting on the counter to brush his teeth for him. he lets you, and you laugh throughout the process because its a funny thing to do but you get through it and he spits in the other sink beside you before he picks you up and carries you back to bed.

on your way back to the bed, your lips find his shoulder and you add onto the array of marks already bloomed on his neck.

cove lays you down on the bed, shuffling your bodies closer to the pillows, tugging off your robe as you fumble around and throwing it somewhere. you're definitely making him clean up the room after this, but first..

you bring him in, letting your tongues tangle together and cove stretches his arm, looking for the lube and a rubber.

"ah-" cove sits up, and he looks back at you sheepishly. "there's no more.. um..."

you grin, already looking forward to cove's reaction. "that's okay. just fuck me raw, won't be the last time. right, covey?" you tangle your fingers in the sheets and get comfortable while you watch it sink in.

it isn't the first time, but fuck it always turns cove on and it makes him impossibly horny.

cove curses and he moves down, pushing your legs up and he kisses your inner thighs, sucking on the skin very close to your cunt that his cheek brushes against you and you whine, your hands finding his hair.

cove teases you a bit more, but he's teasing himself too so his mouth happily finds your cunt, grinning at the way you jump when his tongue runs over your sensitive clit.

even though cove ran a pleasurable train over you last night, your cunt sensitive but still pulsing with need.

your leg is shaking in cove's hold, his hand holding up one of your legs to give him easy access to your wet cunt but he happily lets your other leg shake on his shoulder, your foot bumping against his side and toes curling as he thrusts his tongue in and out your twitching insides.

he kept tongue-fucking you, his thumb petting your clit and he mumbled praises against your cunt as you came, your slick pooling on his tongue.

you buried your face in the pillow, always left twitching after cove sucks your soul from your body. you peak at cove spreading the lube on your sexes, lining himself up and sinking into you.

"ah fuck..."

cove looks so attractive like this, sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains and leaned over you, shaded by the broad expanse of his torso and caged between his arms.

"cove!" your nails dig into his shoulders, your mouth falling open with a sharp moan when cove snaps his hips, burying himself inside you.

cove tucks his head into your shoulder, both of you panting and pulling each other closer even though the air between you two is balmy and hot.

"i'm gonna move..." cove kisses your jaw, tearing himself away from you to show you his flushed face. you whine when cove picks up your lower body, stuffing a pillow under you and the movement makes his tip bump your insides.

cove throws your legs over his shoulders and grips your hips in his hands, kissing your ankle that has your anklet hanging on it.

you throw your head back and moan loudly, cove starting a rough pace from the beginning.

you're so sensitive from last night, and cove abusing your insides again has tears coming to your eyes. "oh fuck! please, cove-"

you reach for him and cove offers his hand and intertwines it with yours. you don't know exactly what you're asking for, for him to be more gentle? a kiss? for cove to fuck you harder?

you just want more of him, to be closer, to be one with him...

"its okay, that's it.. good girl." cove shushes you, putting his free hand by your head to lean over you, your legs almost flush with your chest as cove practically mounts you.

something about the sharpness of cove's eyes and his flushed face makes you want to mess with him, so you bring his hand up to your mouth, wrapping your fingers around his tattooed wrist and sucking on his middle and ring finger.

cove groans, watching the way your tongue slides around his wedding band(s). "you.." cove pushes on your tongue, thrusting his hips up to bump against the spongy spot deep inside your cunt.

your eyes roll into the back of your head when cove picks up the pace again, his hips rolling back and slamming against your butt hard, making your body bounce, pushing his cock deeper against your walls.

while you're moaning and crying out so sweetly, cove squeeze's his hand between your bodies to rub your clit, the proximity of your bodies not leaving much room for anything more than tight circles against the poor sensitive nub.

"cove.." you huff, feeling your cunt gush more slick and adding to the wet, loud squelching. "cove, kiss me, please. oh fuck- oh fu-" cove's lips cut off your mindless babbles, muffling yours and his loud moans as he fucks you with shallow thrusts.

he breaks apart, panting and stealing small kisses in between his sentence. "i'm- *kiss* oh god- i'm gonna *kiss, kiss* cum.."

you whimper and hook your shaking leg around cove's back, the overstimulation makes you want to pull away but you're so close and you want cove to make you cum, and to finish with you. to finish inside you.

"cum inside!" your nails scratch down his back. "please, cum, cum inside-"

cove whines into your neck, the rhythm of his thrusts falling apart as he comes closer to finishing. he rubs faster circles on your clit, and when your fingers drag down his back as you cum, cove's hips push your body deeper into the bed as he fills your cunt with his thick cum.

he leans lifelessly over your body, panting into your neck and pressing kisses into your shoulder as he sits up to give you a kiss.

"i'll..i'll run us a bath, okay?" cove smiles dozily, stroking your hips. you blink, trying to regain your vision from your orgasm.

"and carrying me to the bath!" cove nods at that, accepting the fact he's basically rendered your legs useless for the morning. "and you're making breakfast too." you grin at him. "its punishment."

cove kisses your cheeks. "mm, trying out new methods?" cove teases.

you smack his arm and push him away, breath hitching when he pulls out.

cove watches out his cum starts to leak from your poor, twitching cunt and before he can get any bright ideas you put your foot on his shoulder and nudge him. "stop looking!" you tug the sheets over you and cove gets up with a sheepish laugh. "okay, okay!"

is very very whipped for you

does anything n everything you ask the whole trip

when he goes out and it comes up somehow, he'll tell anyone and everyone he's on his honeymoon w his lovely spouse <3

if you do any underwater activities like snorkeling or smth, you're holding hands underwater <333

yes you hold hands everywhere you go, he's so in love with you he just has to be close to you

if you're not holding hands than he's trailing very close behind you or you're at least wearing his shirt

MATCHING OUTFITS

every young person is ither inspired by your relationship or is sick of seeing you at the beach, go HOME

the old people love you and talk your ear off in the middle of the store, telling you stories of their marriages and tips on how to have a long happy marriage

when you tell them you're childhood friends/lovers though they laugh and tell you you already have it down then since you've known each other so long!

when you finally get on the plane to go home, i hope you rmbr to get some foundation or at least tell cove to wear his hair down and a t-shirt instead of a tank top because his neck and back/shoulders are Marked Up

liz and lee tease you about how glowy and refreshed you look <3

cove is very flustered if any of your friends or family see any marks or scratches

or even worse if someone asks if you had a good wedding night, etec

if you want to have kids n give birth, liz also jokes that shes too young to be a grandma for real (you sputter n tell her you and cove arent her kids n shes exaggerating!!)

[underdark-dreams]

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him. 

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his. 

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble. 

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy. 

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach." 

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it. 

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken. 

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on. 

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck. 

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested. 

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds. 

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit. 

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face. 

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted. 

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again. 

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart. 

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body. 

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly. 

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

SBR (funny Valentine, Diego, Johnny) HC

Funny valentine:

•The scars on his back are sensitive. Like bad sensitive. If you two are going at it you gotta be realllll careful on how you grip his back (just hold the back of his neck.) you only found that out bc when you two were fucking you gripped his back and he literally jumped out of his skin. (He kinda likes it but you have to be gentle)

•Does he like being a sugar daddy? Maybe, perhaps. He definitely likes to spoil you but you have to go out and shop by yourself bc he’s busy. Just hands you a wad of cash while he’s working

“Funny.. can we spend some time together~?”

“Not now.” Takes money out his pocket and slaps it into your hand “come back in two or so hours and im all yours. I have papers to finish up”

•For some reason I think he’d really like a feisty partner. Like if you talk back, give attitude, or even just don’t answer him when he brings something up to you he kinda gets a little hot bc of it.

“Y/n.” The president spoke to you with his back towards you as he looked out a window

“What.” You spoke back, not looking up from your hands as you filed your nails

“Excuse me?” He cocked an eyebrow as he turned his head in your direction

“What.” You did the same thing, cocked an eyebrow as you looked up for a moment

“You need to work on how you address me, Y/n.”

“Oh do I now? Why is that?” You said as you crossed your legs the other way and continued to file your nails on the other hand

Funny walked over to you and gripped you by the collar of your shirt, forcing you to look up at him as he looked in your eyes.

“Because I am your higher up.”

You smirked “good for you.”

Diego Brando:

•Diego needs you to scratch him up. He likes to show it off idk why probably bc he is a cocky bastard who wants to make everyone (Johnny) jealous

Diego was fucking you rapidly, his hands around your throat as he thrusts into your core.

“Y/n.”

Your eyes dart to his face, red and dripping sweat

“Scratch me up.”

Your arms reached around his back, hands finding his shoulders then sliding them down with your nails digging into his skin. Leaving red lines from where they started to where your nails currently were.

He moaned out in delight and anguish. it hurt but In a good way

•Say what you want but Diego definitely likes to help you tack up your horse bc he secretly likes to be needed

“Jeez y/n. You can’t put your saddle back that far. How do you ever expect the horse to be comfortable.. and your girth, god. It’s way too loose. Did you do your polo wraps? You did but they’re backwards, god. Here watch me do it.”

May be backhanded a little but it’s kinda hot tbh.

•This one’s kinda weird but I think he likes to go on rants about horses (kin as an equine) like you say something or ask something he’ll just go on a rant

“What do you mean? You don’t know what a flank is?? Surprised you haven’t gotten your teeth kicked in. Okay so-“ then talks your ear off. He picked it all up bc he worked with horses when he was younger (#kin again)

Johnny Joestar:

•Johnny is definitely definitely definitely loves having you lay on him (aww so cute) while he fucks you (oh-) he likes to hold your back, chest to chest while he kisses your neck as you bounce up and down on his cock. Bonus points if you hold his shoulders your face while you bury you face in his neck. (If you know you know)

•Johnny actually loves flowers? Idk why I just thought of that, he loves to talk about flowers.. does he do it often, no chance. But he knows how you pick them for a person he’s interested in that’s for sure.

I have no more I got bored

[s-b-party]

Imbibitor Lunae & Bailu of the Path of Permanence

****Spoilers for Imbibitor Lunae companion quest****

The title might not make sense now but trust me I’ll explain lol

To sum up Imbibitor Lunae’s companion quest, it looks more into Dan Heng’s past life as Dan Feng

As we see the internal conflict amongst the Vidyadhara, we also take a close look at the relationship between Dan Heng & Bailu as two high elders (past & present)

There are 2 main sides who want different things when it comes to the high elder: those who want Bailu to stay as the high elder & those who want to change the high elder

The main reason for those in support of Bailu is that she herself was chosen by Dan Feng previously, so it is a case, as Jing Yuan states, of legitimacy

Those in opposition of Bailu do not acknowledge her bc they believe she is weak

And of course a majority of the vidyadhara we see (aside from Bailu) does not want Dan Heng back anywhere amongst them bc of what Dan Feng did

To clear up some possible confusion, there are 2 crimes at this point that Dan Feng may have committed, one is in regard to Blade’s backstory & the other involves the transmutation arcanum; the one that seems to be more relevant in this companion quest is the 2nd one

NOTE: In my original thread on Twitter, my phrasing was poor so it sounded like it was all facts but it's still essentially theories/implications at this point so I apologize for my bad phrasing over there if that's what you saw first, remember to take with a grain of salt

*For context of the 1st crime, it's implied that Dan Feng granted immortality to someone of the short-lived species which turned out to be Yingxing aka Blade; it is known that immortality is taboo on the Xianzhou so it would not be surprising if Dan Feng got punished for helping someone become immortal, leading to his molting rebirth & eventual exile as punishment*

*Arcanum comes from Latin meaning secret, could also be referring to a cure/medicine at times, transmutation refers to the process of changing one material into another (they need to have similar properties in order to be transmutated i.e. one metal to another metal, etc.)*

When we look at the dialogue of some of the characters, we can see some who mention a “draconic abomination”; we don’t know for certain who this is referring to, some would suggest Bailu because of the word “draconic” but what doesn’t click immediately is that they seem to talk about this abomination as if it was violent which doesn’t seem to fit Bailu’s temperament; now we aren’t completely sure of everything that happened back then so perhaps this could imply that Dan Feng tried to alter the transmutation arcanum multiple times & got different results aka there were experiments; Bailu’s last character story explains that something likely went wrong w/ the transmutation arcanum which stunted her growth so it would seem that Bailu’s (re)birth wasn’t typical (she also hasn’t seen any dreams of dragon ancestors); idk if I would go so far as to call her an abomination so it might be someone else

The changes made to the transmutation arcanum were to help the Vidyadhara escape the constant cycles of rebirth & to give them a way to procreate normally; it seemed that Dan Feng somehow managed to find a solution to that & this was his 2nd crime (because he was playing god by creating life)

Now the reason why I mention all of this is because it can be tied into what the existence of Long the Permanence could mean and I think that IL & Bailu could be considered as those who embody (not follow) the Path of Permanence (I know they are the Paths of Destruction & Abundance respectfully but hear me out 😂)

HYV recently released the video regarding Long & it brought up an overall interesting question: what is the meaning behind the existence of permanence?

For Preceptor Taoran, he states “Only by comprehending & aligning with the way of the world can one’s path lead to everlasting existence. Countless new creations emerge when one dragon meets its end among the morning stars. For the Vidyadhara, this is the true meaning of the Permanence.” (2:16 in video)

Now obviously not every Vidyadhara is going to agree w/ this but it does bring up what the 2 sides in the quest truly seek; there is an irony to the reasoning behind both sides’ views against Bailu & Dan Feng/Heng respectively

In Bailu’s case, she is seen as “weak & useless” & the high elder should be someone strong and yet she has healing capabilities that make her extraordinary even among the Vidyadhara; Dan Feng was known to be a warrior but then he committed sins which involved tampering of life & immortality for which he was punished

Both are resented for something they lack or something bad they did but they are revered for the traits they do have

Bailu is revered for her healing abilities but resented for her lack of strength, Dan Feng was revered for being a strong warrior but resented for messing w/ life

I’d like to suggest that the quest presents Bailu & Imbibitor Lunae as 2 halves of a whole which make up the Path of Permanence, life (Bailu of abundance) & death (Imbibitor Lunae of destruction)

As Taoran stated, life is full of changes and those who understand the world & its laws can reach everlasting existence; life is full of cycles of life & death which Bailu & IL symbolize

Even more interesting is how well Bailu & IL get along with each other despite their differences & how others view them; they are a great duo to depict balance

At the end Bailu wonders why Dan Feng chose her as his successor & even though Dan Feng committed some crimes, part of me thinks that him choosing her makes sense if we look at it symbolically (after destruction comes life & it’ll repeat), it all comes back to life & death which is needed for balance & it’s this balance that makes up Permanence

So what about the other Vidyadhara? What they want is one or the other, representing imbalance which would contradict a bit of what Taoran stated was the meaning of the Permanence

Now this isn’t to say that Dan Feng was right about doing what he did or that they should get rid of Bailu, what I want to emphasize is that the Vidyadhara’s internal conflict beautifully depicts the question of what Long’s revelation about Permanence signifies for them

There isn’t truly one single correct answer; if we refer back to “Exodus of the Five Dragons” Penman Oppenheimer gives 3 possible answers that could answer that big question

The thing is not everybody is going to have the same answer

Some might agree w/ either of those that Oppenheimer suggested, others might have different answers, but that is just how life is

We often say that nothing lasts forever which is true but I think that some of the things that do last forever are life’s beauty & its complexities

[ruthlesslistener]

Okay so I got to Mohg's actual fight and honestly? Kinda majorly confused as to how people came to the conclusion that him attempting to share 'his bloody bedchamber' involved him raping Miquella when in the canonical opening cutscene, we legit see the dude trickle out in the form of blood. Like, the 'bloody bedchamber' that's being shared here isn't Mohg's, it's Miquella's cocoon. Mohg can't even fit in the damn thing to begin with in his normal form, and that's ignoring the fact that Miquella has been growing into his adult morph the entire time. We straight-up see the fact that he has to liquidate himself to get himself out of there, and the only reason he's even in there to begin with is to try to commune with Miquella (perhaps with the assistance of the Formless Mother?). There's nothing to suspect sexual violence, it's literally just a fucked-up communion ritual like some shit straight outta Yharnam.

Idk, I just feel like the fandom's usual interpretation of everything being about rape and pedophilia is WAYY off the mark here, even with GRRM involved. It's still an absolutely fucked up part of the storyline, but it's 'satanic blood cult with a power-hungry leader attempts to grow their own god with copious amounts of blood rituals, and is kind of scarily succeeding' levels of fucked up, not 'kidnapped and raped an innocent child' type of fucked up. Which yeah, was probably GRRM's original storyline bc he's got a weird fuckin obsession with disgusting shit like that, but it really isn't in line with Fromsoft's take on horror. Even Bloodborne didn't go that far, and it had a whole plot about men in power exploiting women's bodies for their own gain (Arianna's child didn't count- it was supposed to be a horror twist on a chosen sexless god-given child, like Jesus but fucked up). So far the horror of the Mohg and Miquella situation is more the fact that Mohg kidnapped him and is attempting to use him to become Lord via fucked-up magic rituals ala the power of an outer god- and Miquella himself, who's already fuckin creepy even without dramatic Satan causing problems. Hell, I can't even throw the fact that they're half-brothers fully into the horror mix, bc even though its pretty damn revolting in people, these are gods, and they're written like it. Again, doesn't excuse it, but the drama and family dynamics of the gods of Elden Ring are right out of an old mythos, so I'm honestly surprised it hasn't happened earlier.

Not to mention- the blood rituals? Were working. Miquella's fuckin HUGEEE now. I don't know if that was the development he intended to take, since he kind of got kidnapped by an insane demonic power-hungry cult leader before that happened, but whatever Mohg was doing to help reverse the curse? It worked. Miquella aint a child anymore. Idk WHAT he is, but whatever is in there isn't the person carved into the statues of the Haligtree. Its huge, has skin like tree bark, and is just overall kinda...yeesh.

TDLR: Mohg and Miquella's situation isn't fucked up in the way you think it is, it's fucked in the completely opposite, eldrich horror, 'oh-god-what-are-you-creating' sort of way. I get the feeling that Mohg's power-hungry attempt to break Miquella free of his curse just made a god that's even more fearsome than Melania herself, and that we're going to have to suffer that monster's wrath when he figures out what we did to his sister.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[im-not-a-monster]

Ryou for the ask :>

hskfjsana my boy

My NOTP for them not me having to literally go on the ygodm ship list to see if any non-crack-nonsense ships got a visceral reaction from me. yeah i don't think there's one, just some like anzu/ryou where i'm like. i don't see it rip but good for them

My BROTP for them torn - I think a post-canon embodied yami bakura and ryou are besties/worsties but also. in DSOD when ryou disappears and whatever joey is SO worried about him... most concern for ryou shown on screen since honda kept trying to free him from the ring in duelist kingdom but like. joey is JOEY about it idk it just got me with the whole him worrying about ryou and then like they must be friends. can you imagine. ryou would ruin his night with horrors beyond his comprehension and then giggle about it.

My OTP for them  paired up lmao it's Heart for this too obviously. I just think him and Yugi are so cute!!!! sometimes i just need something sweet.

My second choice pairing for them  CHOOSING IS SUCH A STRUGGLE okay I think it's gemshipping and that is Because I read a bunch of sad doujin and they're almost always presented like. fuckin. yami b recognizing that ryou's worst fear is being left alone but knowing that there's no chance he's coming back after millenium world/pharaoh's memories so he sends TKB to ryou somehow [thru yugioh all things are possible so jot that down dot png] and yeah I know TKB is a little fucking gremlin and it's NOT my first or second choice for him but I have a soft spot for it now because just. ryou needs someone.

My fluffy pairing for them this is still also heart bc thats just why i like it lmfao

My angsty pairing for them whats it called my boys have either thee best or thee worst ship names uhm. [opens ygodm pairing list] god is it really just CALLED angstshipping i hate it here. anyway him and Malik together is such a recipe for sadness because Malik is seeing this mirror reflection of someone he can never get back and Ryou is being drawn to this person who's tied up with a lot of the darkness that reflected in YB and do either of them actually want the other urhfhhhurghhguhgughgu

My favorite poly ship for them perhaps given everything ive already said it will come as no surprise at all that any iteration of ryou/malik/yb/tbk/ym would be my favorite. i think they all hate each other. i think they all love each other. the more people involved the more stress ryou has to deal with as the SINGLE AND ONLY NORMAL ONE godbless.

My weirdest pairing for them im gonna be controversial here and label deathshipping as fucking weird even though i think it's actually kind of popular and i like it. i feel like it was more of a thing back when i was into ygo initially, before we knew what Malik's whole deal was (rip tbh Yami Malik was such a... wasted storyline honestly i love ygo but so many things im like. why is that all we got. anyway.) i saythis bc in a lot it seems like YM is portrayed as a full separate person/soul like YB and YY are, so him being a fucking freakweirdo who gets his own body for reasons and who Ryou likes because he is a freakweirdo is just. kind of great. "what do you mean you're dating him he's gross" "[british nerd voice] I know it's just delightful!"

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not Bad

Prompts: Hihi, i have a Merlin prompt if you're interested. Merlin thinks he's a bad person bec he was taught that magic is bad, but also Bec of all the stuff he did/does to keep Arthur safe and ig throw in some touch starved!Merlin too for fun. But the knights compliment/hug/etc all the time and Merlin just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do with this, so the solution is to breakdown crying and try to convince the knights he's the bad person he sees himself as and the knights are just like "but you're wrong and he's 25 reasons why you're wrong" Plz, thx, love your writing - anon

im a fuckin sucker for soft knights & arthur w merlin so, if ur still takings reqs, i would love to see when the knights realize merlin still views himself as a "monster" like is hinted in first ep (? i thinkk, im rusty on my merlin trivia)- is it a passing comment he makes and they realize all together? knight cuddle pile? just give the poor boy some love - anon

if you'd want to write it i'd love to see the collective moment that the knights realize that merlin is self-harming in some way (in my brain this is probably in like a denial-of-things type thing that he probably doesn't even see as self-harm bc he's an idiot, could even be something like healing everyone else w magic but refusing to heal himself... idk feel free to do whatever you see fit!). i can only imagine they'd be frustrated with him and themselves but theyre just loving large idiots (': - anon

ahh yes all the prompts

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm in the form of intentionally depriving oneself of physical contact because THAT COUNTS

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 3462

Arthur is confused, very upset, and nothing is alright anymore, thank you very much.

Because you see, despite the image that he tries to present—emphasis on the word ‘try’, there, according to his knights—he does care an awful lot about his people, especially his one particular person that happens to be able to say an awful lot without saying anything.

Merlin. He’s talking about Merlin, in case you hadn’t noticed.

The problem is that for all the man can ramble on about seemingly anything, at any time, he’s remarkably good at saying absolutely nothing about himself. He claims he’s an open book, but he’s certainly in a language that Arthur doesn’t know how to read.

He does know how to read, just to clarify. That isn’t the issue here.

No, no, the issue is that after months, years, almost a decade of Merlin by his side, watching his back, taking care of him, he’s discovered that there’s a secret that Merlin’s keeping from him. One he never intended to tell Arthur.

And before you panic, no, he’s not talking about Merlin’s magic.

Come on, it’s not like it’s not obvious, the man isn’t exactly good at hiding it. Does he seriously believe Arthur can’t see the tree branches that miraculously pick themselves up and fly at the nearest bandit or the spears that fling themselves at the foe about to behind Gwaine? Or the chores that mysteriously get done too fast for Merlin and far too efficiently? Or the way certain magical ailments seem to vanish mysteriously along with his idiot of a servant only to be greeted with a soft shrug when he pokes?

Merlin’s eyes also turn gold, that’s pretty neat.

So Merlin has magic.

Yes, we know, we had a small tantrum over the fact that he told Lancelot first, but it’s fine. Quite frankly, a lot of things make more sense now.

Except for this. Not this.

Merlin is hiding the secret that he believes he’s a bad person.

Now, Arthur’s not sure if you’ve met Merlin, but the man isn’t exactly the image of the evildoer that springs to mind when someone says ‘bad person.’

The Witch Finder, now there’s a bad person. Storming into Camelot, preying on the fear of the people, bribing and threatening and drugging people, torturing them, and condemning them to death just for the sake of a few coins.

Merlin did storm into Camelot, that is true, but he decided to pick a fight with the crown prince and then save his life. He’s not here for coin—if he were, they wouldn’t have had that small, er, issue about the steward not paying him anything for his work for the past eight years, honestly—and he’s certainly not preying on anyone’s fears. Except perhaps Arthur’s fear of losing his dignity.

The look on his father’s face when Merlin dodged the pillow…

Speaking of his father…there’s another one.

His father did not prey as openly on the people’s fear—or as obviously as Aredian, but prey on them he did. He was a strong king, sometimes too strong. He was a blind king, saw the people as nothing more than subjects, not the living breathing humans they are. He remembers Morgana’s voice, saying that authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force.

He always wanted to see Uther’s face when his ward—when his daughter said that to him.

And what he’s done to Morgana…

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head. Perhaps the very truth that he resents the idea of thinking about what Uther did to Morgana, to him…perhaps that is enough.

Those are bad people. At least to Arthur.

Merlin, on the other hand…

Merlin came into Camelot, knowing that if it was discovered that he has magic, he would be burnt at the stake. He came, not with any aspirations of glory, simply because he trusted his mother when she told him to come to Gaius. He came and he was given a job he never asked for, one he had no idea how to do, and stayed.

Merlin learned. Slowly, perhaps, but he learned. Now he has enough knowledge on what a servant should do to break the rules in the most spectacular fashion. Arthur smiles, biting back the chuckle at seeing George dressed up like Merlin and acting perfectly proper and the urge Arthur had to throw him out of the room.

And that’s not even mentioning what he does when he’s not following Arthur around.

Merlin learned. Merlin stayed.

Not just for Gaius, but for Arthur.

Arthur leans onto his desk, staring out into the courtyard where Merlin is tending to the knights’ horses as they mount up for patrol. He watches Leon step a little closer, lowering his head to mutter something to him, watching Gwaine clap Merlin on the shoulder.

Watches Merlin flinch a little too hard.

Watches Leon’s brow furrow and Gwaine take a step back.

This. This is the problem.

Merlin believes he’s a bad person. Which is wrong, but for some reason, he does.

And because Merlin believes he’s a bad person, he believes that anytime one of the knights touches him—or anyone touches him—it will be to hurt him.

How did they come to this conclusion, you may ask?

Arthur bites back a snarl as he turns away from the window.

It had started with the complements.

Gwaine, to no one’s surprise, was quite fond of flirting with anyone and everyone that would let him, Merlin no exception. Talking about Merlin’s looks, his personality, his work ethic, anything, and everything. Merlin would flush, bright red, ears and all, mumbling to himself.

But then Percival had said something and Merlin pushed him away—well, prodded his arm, no one really moves Percival without Percival letting them—and shook his head. Percival had shrugged but the rest of them had noticed the tension in Merlin’s shoulders.

Then Elyan complemented Merlin’s tracking abilities and Merlin hadn’t even acknowledged it, instead insisting that they keep moving before it got too dark to see and they’d be forced to make camp in the woods. They’d agreed, pressing on, but noting the way that Merlin refused to say so much as thank you.

Leon’s perceptiveness should be considered magical. Seriously, Arthur’s not entirely convinced the man can’t see into people’s heads, what with the information he’s able to produce out of nothing more than the twitch of a finger or the slightest huff of breath. But he sees the way Merlin shies away from any display of affection, even as he gently repeats it, watching Merlin turn his back and get back to work.

Arthur never saw what happened with Lancelot. All he knows is that one night, out in the woods, the two of them had gone off to collect firewood and Merlin had been hiding red-rimmed eyes when he returned, a few paces ahead of Lancelot, not ten minutes later. Arthur had glared but the forlorn confusion on Lancelot’s face had given him pause.

Then it was the touching.

One would expect Merlin to be a quite tactile person, and he is. He’s all shoulder nudges and pokes and prods and gentle shoves to get people to move where he wants them to go. And it’s not like the man has much concept of personal space.

No, some of that is not Arthur’s fault, how dare you?

But when someone else tries it, Merlin tenses reflexively, already moving before their hands make contact. He gives everyone he can a wide berth, scuttling around the outside of rooms until one of them breaks and tells him to come here, Merlin, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you. His face never quite believes them.

The strangest thing is how much of it Merlin makes small adjustments for.

He always wears those god-awful tunics, that he won’t let Arthur replace with fabric that doesn’t feel like it’s a burlap sack, with the sleeves pulled all the way down and those kerchiefs tied around his neck. Arthur’s seen his sleeves rolled up before, but only when Merlin’s working and he hasn’t realized Arthur’s there yet. It’s not like Arthur doesn’t know Merlin has forearms, but Merlin will always jump and guiltily roll his sleeves down.

He doesn’t notice why until he accidentally brushes Merlin’s bare skin once and Merlin all but tears away like he’s been burned.

He doesn’t know why.

Merlin has a secret. The secret is that he believes he’s a bad person. That means he can’t accept compliments and he can’t let them touch him.

This is a problem, because Arthur would very much like for Merlin to believe that he isn’t a bad person.

This is also a problem because Arthur has no idea how to do that.

He looks up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

“Sire?” Leon steps through. “May we come in?”

Arthur nods, his eyebrows raising as all of his knights spill into the room.

“Shall I assume you’re on the warpath again?”

“Nah,” Gwaine grumbles, throwing himself into a chair, “know this isn’t your fault.”

Leon shakes his head. “It’s Merlin, sire, we’re…concerned.”

Arthur just sighs and tells them what’s been buzzing around his head for the past…however long it’s been. The knights nod.

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he doesn’t expect it,” Lancelot offers, “but when I ask…he doesn’t seem to want to agree either.”

“But he does,” Gwaine argues, “you’ve seen the way he stares at us when we hug each other, he looks like a poor child that’s never had a hug in his life!”

“Which isn’t true.” Elyan folds his arms. “Gwen’s hugged him.”

“We’ve all hugged him.”

“But he still thinks we’re going to hurt him.”

“Well,” Arthur mutters, “we can’t exactly blame him for being paranoid, can we?”

“If you lot are going to talk about me behind my back like it’s a war council, then yeah, I reserve the right to be paranoid.”

“Merlin!”

“Thank god, where’ve you been?”

“I thought we were meeting by the stables.”

“Did you get hurt?”

Merlin raises his hands and takes a step back. “Whoa, can I get through the door first before the interrogation starts?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Arthur says, glaring at the knights, “we’re concerned.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin mutters, weaving through them to the table so he can set down the thing hooked over his arm, “yes, I’m all too familiar with your concern.”

Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”

Merlin waves a hand. “Oh, just that it’s a prelude to more chores and things to do.”

Is that…true?

“Yes.”

Did he say that out loud?

“Also yes.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Merlin, we’re not coming up with lists and lists for chores for you to do.”

“Really? With how many you all constantly give me, here I finally thought I’d cracked the code as to why.”

Leon steps forward. “We’re not coming up with things to give you, Merlin, nor are we intending to gossip behind your back.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We’re worried,” Lancelot repeats, “about you.”

“Well, I’m right as rain, no need to worry.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he stares at Leon. The knight smiles ruefully and takes another little step forward.

“Lie,” he repeats gently, “you don’t have to lie to us, Merlin.”

Merlin’s mouth thins. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you, then.”

“Why not—“

“No,” Arthur breaks in, causing Merlin to swing his head around again, “no, if Merlin doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t have to.”

Gwaine looks on the verge of protest, but another look from Lancelot is enough to quell him. He sinks into the chair and tosses an apple to Merlin.

“At least eat something,” he says by way of explanation, “you’ve not eaten anything since lunch.”

Merlin looks very confused—good, now he’s just like the rest of them—but bites into the apple nonetheless. His gaze travels around the room before coming to rest on Leon.

“Why are you all concerned?”

“Because you won’t let us complement you, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you believe that every time we touch you we intend to hurt you, and you believe that this is deserved because you are a bad person.”

The flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face is almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Almost.

“How…”

“We notice things, Merlin,” Leon says patiently, “we notice you.”

Lancelot snorts. “Good going, mate, you’ll freak him out.”

“Um—there’s nothing worth noticing about me—“

“Not we all know that’s not true,” Gwaine says, and if it had been any other time it would’ve sounded like the next pick-up line at the tavern, “you’re worth noticing, Merlin.”

Merlin’s gaze darts back and forth, finding no disagreement in any faces.

“What—what were you concerned about?”

“Aside from what we just told you?”

“But I don’t—why is that a problem?”

Arthur swallows a curse. “Are you asking why we’re upset that you believe you’re a bad person and you deserve to be treated badly?”

“…yes?”

“Because you’re not a bad person,” Elyan says, “and you don’t deserve to feel like everyone’s about to hurt you.”

Gods, the look of disbelief on Merlin’s face hurts.

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly, setting the apple down, “you don’t know that.”

“Sure we do.” Elyan uncrosses his arms. “We know you, Merlin.”

“I don’t think you do.”

A look passes around the group of knights. Elyan smiles.

“I know that Gwen came home and told me she’d made a friend the first week you arrived in Camelot. I know that you’ve reminded us what family means. I know that you care, Merlin, about your friends, because they’re important to you.”

Merlin blinks in confusion.

“I know you’re a strong man,” Percival says, “and not just because you can lift the packs for the horses without complaining. But you work hard, because you know you can, and so that people don’t have to. You provide what you can because you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“I—I—“

“I know you’re brave,” Lancelot says softly, standing, “I know you feel the same fear that we all do and you stare it straight in the face.”

He pauses, takes one step closer.

“I know you don’t chase the glory of being brave, but the feeling of being brave and using it.”

“Guys, I—“

“I know what you’ve done.”

Merlin’s face goes pale at Leon’s words.

The knight tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“I’ve been around the longest,” he says in a near whisper, “and I have seen the changes from when you arrived in Camelot until now. I’ve seen the differences, not just in the other men in this room but in Camelot.”

He lays a hand on his chest.

“I know that you’ve made me prouder to serve this kingdom than many others that have tried.”

Poor Merlin is shaking right now, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table. He looks around in confusion, terribly frightened, sending more aches through Arthur’s chest.

“You wouldn’t say that—“ he gasps— “you wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That—that I—“ Merlin’s breaths start to ring in the chamber— “I—I—“

“That you have magic?”

Merlin’s head jerks around to stare at Arthur. Arthur raises his hands and takes a step closer. Merlin flinches.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. You have magic, though, right?”

“Yes—yes, I—but I’ve only ever used it for—for you Arthur, I—“

“Easy,” he soothes, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him close, “I know. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Merlin all but whimpers, “it’s not okay, it’s bad, it’s bad and I’m bad, I’m bad—“

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

Merlin yanks his arms to his sides, curling them tightly around himself, much to the protest of the knights. His fingers whiten as he clutches the sides of his tunic.

“I’m bad, bad people get hurt, you don’t—you don’t touch bad people.”

“Merlin,” Arthur breaks in softly, “Merlin, sweetheart, I’m going to come over to you.”

He can hear the quickly stifled gasps and Gwaine’s ‘oh shit’ as he inches towards Merlin. The poor man doesn’t move, but the tremors get worse and worse the closer Arthur gets.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart, do you believe me? That I won’t hurt you?”

“I—I—“

“Because I won’t,” he promises, still fighting the urge to swoop the poor thing into a hug, “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not bad, Merlin, and you certainly don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” comes the strangled whisper, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“But I know you, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “and that’s enough.”

He can’t stop the concerned noise at Merlin’s huff of disbelief.

“It’s enough, sweetheart, it’s—hey! Easy, easy,” he soothes as Merlin’s knees buckle and he catches him before he can hit the ground, “I’ve got you, shh, shh, you’re alright.”

“Oh,” Lancelot murmurs as Merlin starts to shiver terribly, “oh, Merlin, you’re touch starved.”

“Touch starved?”

“He’s not been touched for a very long time,” Lancelot murmurs, hustling to join them on the floor, scooping Merlin’s legs into his lap, “and so he’s not used to it, but he needs it.”

“We all need touch?”

“Yes, otherwise our bodies get…unhappy.” Lancelot shakes his head. “I’m sure Gaius could explain it more. The short version is humans aren’t built to hold each other at arm’s length.”

Arthur tightens his grip on the lapful of shaking Merlin he has. There’s a cold nose buried in the crook of his neck, arms looping awkwardly around his shoulders. Distantly, he hears the scufflings of the other knights as they move closer.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart,” he fins himself whispering, “we’ve got you, we won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re good, we have you, it’s alright, now…”

Poor Merlin is still shuddering terribly.

“Shh, shh, easy, just try and relax, we have you…”

Since when has Merlin been this cold?

“Oh, I’m definitely hugging you every day,” Gwaine mutters, helping to prop Merlin up away from the table.

“Why—“ Merlin swallows— “why are you all so warm?”

“You’re cold,” Arthur says, “we’re helping.”

“I’m—I’m—what is it? Touch—touch—“

“Touch starved,” Lancelot offers gently, “yes, Merlin.”

“You’re helping?”

Gwaine shifts behind him. “We’re helping.”

“You’re not…mad?”

“No, Merlin, we’re not mad.”

“I’m not bad?”

Arthur tightens his grip. “Never, Merlin.”

“You—I can—I can stay?”

“Yes, Merlin,” comes the chorus of knights, “for as long as you like.”

Arthur is still upset, very confused, and more than a little overprotective right now.

But so is Merlin.

And they’re…they’re starting to figure it out.

One thing’s for sure: Arthur’s definitely pulling Merlin into bed to cuddle with him instead of getting up in the morning.

[mallowstep]

Some idle thoughts for you since they pertain names and DotC characters and I know it's one of those things you have like opinions on.

I like to think -star suffix names are retroactively applied to the founders (much to their annoyance in StarClan, just imagine the comedic potential of them exasperatedly and repeatedly having to correct people about it), but why stop there? I have my sights in particular on Emberkit and Mud Paws. Having died so soon after being born, it makes sense why they'd retroactively remember that kit (perhaps simply named Ember?) with that name.

Mud Paws, though, that one gives me a bit more of a think. In my SkyClan Gray Wing AU I made it so he stays in WindClan and is apprenticed to Lightning Tail (who's now a tunneler and Wind Runner's deputy), and thus he's the originator of the -paw suffix in the first place. If he had more of a role in canon I could make it so that the clans retroactively remember him with a different warrior name each (cue the arguments about it whenever it comes up in conversation at a gathering). But as it stands he's like a fairly minor figure in WindClan and ShadowClan history at best. IDK, maybe if he's even remembered at all his name leads them to assume he like died an apprentice? Maybe cats who go to StarClan and meet him for the first time are just surprised at his age, they certainly expected someone younger.

ohh yeah forgive me for not having a Ton to add you just said lots of things i already agree w lmao.

i completely agree with -star suffixes! it remains my greatest gripe with dotc that they felt the need to shoehorn in both the names of the clans and the -star suffixes despite it making no sense! like! it is such a rapid thing that comes out of no where and like. i had. it doesn't make sense!

clans are just me being picky n a lil petty, but

leader names really don't work! the -star suffix only makes sense if you already have 2 part names, which they don't! it just looks like they do. like i think the difference between greywing and grey wing is a lot more meaningful than most fans realize (?)

that's not shade! nothing wrong with that! especially given that the erins are priming us to think that way Because of skystar. fucking skystar. i will. i want to know who is responsible for clear sky. there is.

my gripes with -star aside, there is no reason for clear sky and tall shadow to become skystar and shadowstar. literally. no reason. it makes no sense.

why didn't river ripple become ripplestar? that would actually make more! sense than skystar. oh my god. oh my god.

wind runner and thunder are fine because runnerstar doesn't make sense, but! i will. oh my god. if you're going to do it make it clearstar.

(also, aside, but remind me to rant about how we're supposed to believe different cats have different naming traditions when all the cats the dotc cats meet have two word names???)

tbh i was thinking the star suffix was going to have to do with star flower. as soon as i find a way for that to make sense i might write a fic about it. if someone else figures it out first you have my permission and encouragement to write something about it. please share it with me.

and yeah, i think ember retroactively remembered as emberkit makes sense. in some way. dotc might make more sense re names and clans and so on if we try to understand it not as an accurate account of the founding of the clans, but rather the narrative the clans tell themselves. obviously this isn't supported by canon (i will Kill to have leopardclan mentioned. just once. please. someone talk about the three clans again, but leopardclan is forgotten about and it makes me sad bc spots), nor is it what i say about folklore, but that's how dotc makes the most sense (wrt names).

anyway. i can see...the problem is that there's no like. there's not a sensible way to go from: two word names to two part names.

like by that i don't mean so much that there isn't one as i haven't been able to think of one, but. i mean dgmw it's a hard problem to surmount. i face it in my own writing.

why doesn't riverclan remember dawn as dawnstar? because i said they don't, that's why.

(were a kit to ask, they'd be told something mumbling about nine lives and that being later...i have a story for why leaders have nine lives in the works but it's disjoint from other founding lore bc i wanted to write about tigerclan, lionclan, and leopardclan, which takes place Before all the other stuff, but look. look. look me in the eyes and tell me any other mythology has no plot holes.)

anyway. it's a hard problem to surmount but i like this idea wrt mud paws. even if his name makes me laugh like. mud paws. ldksjf;dsf.

[puppy-phum]

pingxie thoughts (and prayers) pt. 1

i’m trying to make a series of my random thoughts on ultimate note pingxie (i might go to other versions too but who knows when). idk if this fandom really needs my two cents but here yall go either way. at least i get my screams out of my chest. (apologizing if my english breaks bc of my feels, this really isn’t my first language) 

The Jacket Scene 

This is about the scene where Xiaoge, Pangzi and Panzi discover Wu Laosi’s body with Wu Xie’s coat covering it and what happens before, during and after that scene. I had some thoughts on how this one moment connects the things that happened in the previous episodes, and what Pingxie seems like after this very small but significant ordeal. (placing under cut bc this is long. with some pics!)

The thing is, with this whole drama, that we’ve rarely seen the worried side of Xiaoge before this. We have seen him coming in and sweeping Wu Xie off of his feet and rescuing him from whatever situation the boy has put himself into but we rarely see his worry. And throughout Ultimate Note, we finally see a lot of that. (this post by @jockvillagersonly​ already talks about the snake egg scene and all the worry so I guess I don’t have to get into detail here.) But, ever since the beginning of this, ever since Xiaoge once again sweeps Wu Xie right off of his feet (figuratively) in Golmud Sanatorium, he shows a lot of concern towards Wu Xie. Though he gets it out in varying ways but. Let’s not blame him for that, shall we? 

First of all, he doesn’t want to rope Wu Xie into coming with them on this journey; he very blatantly wishes Wu Xie to turn back and leave. It sounds a bit rude and Wu Xie reads very wrongly into it. It’s just that Xiaoge doesn’t want Wu Xie to get hurt on yet another journey. He just wants Wu Xie to be safe and where does that lead him? Into worrying.

So, what gives us this jacket scene in the end is that even if Xiaoge holds very tightly onto his feelings and doesn’t talk about them or, god forbid, show them (especially to Wu Xie if they’re related to him), other ppl are still very much aware (e.g. Hei Xiazi, A-Ning and Pangzi). Example: When A-Ning talks with Wu Xie about him joining this expedition, she states that she doesn’t care about Wu Xie’s life but Xiaoge does (which,,, Wu Xie looks flabbergasted. Poor soul). She sees what Wu Xie, unfortunately and infuriatingly, does not. He understands Xiaoge’s silent and somehow reluctant care. 

All of this then means that when Wu Xie’s team goes missing as they explore the shipwreck (or they just can’t contact ppl with their radios anymore bc of reasons), Xiaoge is absolutely losing his shit. He is already doing this before that (cue the scene with Hei Xiazi a lot earlier, in the pic above) but this is his last straw. He flees the camp to go look for Wu Xie, all his deals be damned. He might look cool and composed while doing this but his eyes are very telling. He is losing his fucking mind and no normal guy stands in his way (Wu Laosi being the one in his way is somehow so ironic in the light of what’s about to happen).

Then Pangzi and Panzi walk in, taking Xiaoge with them. And I find it so very amazing that Pangzi is able to see right through Xiaoge. But this knowledge is comfortable, caring. Pangzi might speak about Xiaoge’s worry in a teasing way but it’s how he goes at these things. And with Pangzi, Xiaoge can show his worry (even if he’s being emo about it and sucks it in like the cool guy he is bc… idk my dudes, maybe for the same reason he doesn’t even look at Wu Xie when he gives him that compass in the desert, boy has problems ok). He’s safe with Pangzi who doesn’t force Xiaoge into admitting his feelings but shows him how ridiculous he’s being bc of course they can worry about Wu Xie. They’re all worried about Wu Xie.

Then, after all the wandering in Devil’s City, they finally get to the shipwreck and there’s a camp but! Surprise! It’s full of corpses. Killed by corpse bugs. And then we see Wu Laosi (A-Ning’s right-hand man? I think?) wearing Wu Xie’s jacket. Xiaoge spots the jacket like a blood hound, drawn to it in an instant. And we as viewers know that it’s not Wu Xie laying there, that he’s long gone and having a not-so-fun adventure through the Devil’s City with A-Ning, but our guys do not. Xiaoge does not. We can see how his face freezes as he notices the body and then goes to look at it. He doesn’t even touch it, he just stares. Pangzi has to pull the jacket off of the body bc Xiaoge is too shocked to move.

And maybe he does know that it’s not Wu Xie (like he lets Pangzi think later bc he’s Cool and Collected) bc he’s just so accustomed to that body but. For a second he really does believe. And if we think about him earlier, when he was saving Wu Xie from the desert, his first words for Wu Xie who regains his consciousness were, “Sorry, I was late.” Bc he wasn’t there early enough to prevent Wu Xie from collapsing and being in pain. He wasn’t there early enough to keep Wu Xie from harm. And at this moment here, Xiaoge comes to remember that perhaps, comes to think about how he might actually be late one day. He thinks about it so intensely and it makes him so frustrated that he just furiously slices that stray corpse bug into half with his sword (even if it has no point when Pangzi and Panzi already have their knives out and ready to go). He’s just so mad about the thought of someone or something harming Wu Xie and him not being there to prevent it that Xiaoge, our Poker Face, has a temper tantrum. What a day this has been for him. Might consider other emotions after a couple more years, it’s becoming exhausting and I feel him on that. 

But then this just leads us to the overwhelming protectiveness we see during their journey in the jungle before they get to the Heavenly Queen Mother’s Palace (and Xiaoge goes to the jade meteorite and forgets everything but let’s stay in this happy-ish place still). We see him attending to every tiny movement of Wu Xie. He’s there to steady Wu Xie when he stumbles, he’s there to keep branches off of his face, helps him to cut down damn vines. There’s that egg removal scene with overwhelming fear. There’s the snake repelling mud and them sleeping in that tent. There’s Xiaoge catching Wu Xie from mid air more than once. He just... pours over, in a sense. Suddenly, he’s come to face the mortality of this boy he travels with and he’s painfully aware that he is the reason why Wu Xie is there in the first place. Wu Xie even states it himself when he’s yelling at Pangzi about lying to him when he said he was going to Beijing. Wu Xie says he’s the only one who’s in Devil’s City and on this journey just for his own accord (and at this moment, Xiaoge knows it also means he’s the reason bc Wu Xie has promised him things). 

It’s a horrible thing to know for Xiaoge. And I think this jacket scene just brings out all of that, reminds Xiaoge of why he didn’t want Wu Xie here in the first place but had to accept his involvement still. Reminds him of what he can still try to prevent as he was given this chance. Wu Xie really becomes his first priority here, and it shows up even starker in the way he puts Wu Xie’s survival over his own mission while working with Chen Wenjin. He outright refuses to do things before Wu Xie is safe. He somehow accepts, silently determined as he is, that there’s no other option for him anymore. He’s stuck with Wu Xie as strongly as Wu Xie has stated that he’s stuck with him. And sometimes I just wonder how many times Xiaoge must’ve seen nightmares of Wu Xie dying, especially after the scare this one simple jacket gave him. How many times he blamed himself for those. How many more times he wanted to apologize for being late (bc maybe one day he would have to tell that to Wu Xie’s corpse).   

[icharchivist]

cries think I made my ask too long so like half of it got deleted bc I typed it right into the askbox. anyways. I come bearing a3 thoughts! at first i was gonna watch the spring/summer and autumn/winter ones and then give my thoughts on both but. turns out i had too many thoughts lol? which i shouldve expected but i actually kind of... got bored by the first two chapters of this event! so i skipped and went to the stranger. and then went back. (1/?)

and then i got to like "tsuzuru and kazunari are having a fight?" and jumped on that like a starving wolf bc helllll yeah! i rly adored kazunari in sardine search, i think he was great! hes just so nice and has good vibes. he and taichi are kind of similar i feel? but i think their respective ages contribute to a lot of difference in their characters. why does it feel like this askbox limit personally wants me dead. (2/?)

anyways! i rly enjoyed the improv scene devolving to a real fight. admittedly i was kinda surprised that the content of that improv wasnt rly too similar to their actual fight? like normally a3 has the story of the play run parallel to like the actual real character drama so i thought the improv might function as the play in this event... it was still good tho. the scene i mean. (3/?)

also i rly liked tenma ragging on them afterwards. like he was mean but. first i adore tenma. second he just felt like. a different meddling type to muku lol? like the vibes he gave me were always like... im going to be a considerate leader and watch out for the ppl under me! therefore im gonna make sure theyre doing fine! aggressively. i think tenmas also just like a friendly person who likes to take care of others in general? like im not saying hes omi or anything but just like. (4/?)

that time he offers his car ride to juza so they can go to school together like hes surprisingly open compared to his initial prickliness. also ive got thoughts abt the tenma juza SSR conversation thing i read. one day ill make a tenma and juza fic and complete a trifecta haha... but thats something for another day! back to the actual story. the way tsuzuru dives right in after kazunari! that was so nice. like its easy to see how much they care abt each other. (5/?)

to the point where like even while theyre fighting theyre like angry but still like fairly quiet bc i think theyre both at least trying to be considerate of each other. ah the moment kazunari didnt respond to tsuzuru trying to talk to him i KNEW he was sick tho. felt proud of myself for calling that one but also the reason i knew is bc i have used the "character being sick during an argument causing them both to make up with each other" trope myself before so uh. like recognizes like haha. (6/?)

anyways the cg there was fuckin beautiful like kazunari looks so sad in the middle bit but then u see his shy smile? like hes sick but hes also like. happy to be there. idk. lovely. i adore kazu i think hes just deeply sweet to other people. tsuzuru telling him "you make everyone around you feel as bright and cheery as the things you design” is so wonderful too (7/?)

now im thinking. ah tsuzuru probably feels quite drained after a script and such (i know i am when i finish any piece--its like the emotions just rush out of me) so i like to think that like yknow. kazunari dropping by his room or whatever helps him set himself back to normal! but also when tsuzurus like oh u left ur magazines here! i suddenly remembered. wait shit kazunari and tsuzuru arent even roommates. wonder how much they bother masumi lmaooo. anyways overall very good story! (8/?)

some more thoughts: itaru and citron were so cute in this event! just like. citron saying itaru winking makes his heart skip a beat and itaru quoting citrons wrong sayings (which. i am also guilty of today i told my brother "we'll jump that bridge when we cross it" so) also i love how yuki is like "thank god i wasnt partnered with that hack" but like. yuki. u could literally just not talk about him. like its so funny to me yuki is like wow i hate tenma but he wont shut up abt him haha (9/?)

i also was a lil taken aback at hearing itaru go "for the lulz" tbh... like it fits him. but im mad it fits him? anywaysss thats all i had for this one! im gonna watch autumn/winter and go say my thoughts on that soon. sorry the ask was so broken up, idk what happened!

OLA FRIEND! Glad to see your thoughts again omg :3c

tho omg the fact tumblr deleted it all + the ask limit was all so evil D: poor friend.

I'm putting my answer under a read more because. Well. *waves hand* it got long.

The non-play events can be perhaps a little harder to get into because unlike the plays events that you start with a clear idea of at least the main plot (re: "they are preparing a play, i know the leads so i know who it will focus on"), non-plays events take a little longer to first set up what event they're participating in, how to prepare for it, and then bring up the conflict and which characters are going to have something to do with said conflict. So i can understand that they're a little harder to get into when we know the plays awaits.

On top of that, the first few events still were a bit tame because since it was early when the app released, i think they didn't go too heavy at once in case some people were still stuck on earlier chapters (esp since especially Winter is hard to unlock)

ANYWAY glad that it sucked you in on the second read :3c

So glad you were invested in that conflict!

Totally agreeing with you about Kazunari, and very good point about Taichi as well! they aren't the Puppy Pair for nothing :'D (Yuki took one look at both of them together and just Knew. His suffering knows no end (lovingly)). But yeah i think they have a lot in common, they both are the really bright and friendly figure, both also started in overcompensating a bit because both wanted to be popular in some ways.

But we do have, on one hand, Kazunari who wanted that rather late in his life while Taichi always thrived for that, the fact Kazunari made friends easily and it's just that he was scared of getting to the next level, while Taichi always struggled with this quest for popularity. In a way too both of them were at least scared to share a part of them, Kazunari worrying to show his thoughts, and Taichi being a spy and all of that... which impacts them really differently considering the guilt it puts on Taichi. And then you add their age into the mix, especially the fact Kazu is the oldest of his troupe and Taichi the youngest of his, it makes them fairly similar all while being fairly different.

both are so interesting to me and i love them bothhh, so it's always nice to see them have focus.

admittedly i was kinda surprised that the content of that improv wasnt rly too similar to their actual fight? like normally a3 has the story of the play run parallel to like the actual real character drama so i thought the improv might function as the play in this event

i love how you are seeing the patterns a3 tends to do it's so neat!

It's true the fight isn't really similar to their actual fight, though i do love that they had "swapped" their personality for the act and ended up insulting each other for theirr swapped personality. Like, Kazunari insulted part of himself in Tsuzuru's character and Tsuzuru did the same?? and then the fight escalated and the way Kazunari broke character hurts bc it's really that Tsuzuru hit where it hurts. But yeah it still wasn't too relevent to their actual fight, though i think the thing is that their fight was as such mostly because they tend to clash often due to their personalities rather than just this singular reason why, so to have the play go more "it's their personalities the problem" kinda hurt lol. But yeah still agreed that it didn't reflect much on the plot itself

I was rereading the improv bit to answer correctly and man since we're going to talk about Tenma next, i just. Love that when Kazunari, breaking character, his eyes sad, tells Tsuzuru "you have no rights talking to me like that..." it then cuts on Tenma being upset. Bc like. Exactly like you say, he wants to look out for the people under him. and like. Kazunari is his friend. A friend he also snapped at once and insulted for being who he was, so he probably could have relived a bit of his fight with Kazunari seeing those two fights; Except that now Kazunari is one of his closest friend and he doesn't like that.

Also like. It was also because he could still hide under the plot of the improv but it's so rare, and it never happened before that point, that Kazunari stands for himself in a "the way you treat me is unfair"? Like again re: his fight with Tenma, when Tenma snapped at him, while Tenma was unfair with him, Kazunari took the blame, called himself annoying and all yaknow?

The fact Kazunari is starting to accept that he can take more place for himself is something the whole Summer Troupe have been trying to help him work on, but especially Tenma. Tenma is always there trying to push Kazunari to say what he means, to express his feelings, to stop hiding.

And for once, Kazunari does that in front of everyone... and it's because he's breaking because of his fight with Tsuzuru.

I think Tenma probably felt it was even more of a reason to get involved like, this is the thing he's been working on with Kazunari about, and now he's being all hurt about it, not on Tenma's watch!

And i totally agree with your take on Tenma! (and would LOVE to read the Tenma and Juza fic once you get to it :3c). I think, Tenma is really caring and is trying to take a place as a caretaker and all, but unlike Omi, he has absolutely no reference for it.

Omi is the eldest of multiple brothers and everything indicates his parents have always been lovely to him. Add to it how he ended up leader of a delinquent crew he was clearly looking after, Omi has a history of taking care of people, of nurturing them, and he knows what he's doing. Meanwhile Tenma grew up on TV sets, mostly surrounded by adults and not by people his age, mostly getting advice from being ordered around by directors i think. And his parents are distant, hyperfocused on their job, not really nursing with him. So Tenma meanwhile really didn't have a family emotional support and was in situation where he couldn't befriend other kids his age. His only reference was probably Igawa (his agent) and i think for a long time he didn't exactly see it, and Igawa remained mostly professional so there was probably the idea of it not being sincere? That Tenma had to grow out of.

So like, they're both extremely nurturing and caring, but my point is that Omi has experiences in it and is at ease with it, while Tenma has been so alone and in places were he had no support system that even if he wants to support others, he still struggles with how to do it because he has no set exemple. And that's his development in the main story arc, to learn from how Izumi shows she cares in order to care back at them all.

Like i mean the way Tenma yelled at them about their mistakes at first feel like he would have picked it up from some directors on TV set yaknow? Probably hearing them say that with no consequences on others actors, seeing it worked, didn't think "that's an abuse of power and the actors probably all think badly of their director for that" but "wow that works", tried it on his troupesmates and realized this is... not how that works. And it's spending time watching how Izumi encourages them that have him fix his way to approach it.

So yeah i got lost too into it but like. I feel you on Tenma i love him so much and i love his development so to see him get pissed and involved there? was really nice. even if he was aggressive about it. He's still learning.

ANYWAY back to Tsuzuru and Kazunari, totally agree with what you say next. They still care a lot about each other and yeah they're at a point where this consideration they have for each other make their anger more quiet than trying to attack one another (Banri could NEVER-). so yeah totally agree with you!

DLKFJDLKF i LOVE the reasoning on "recognizing that Kazunari was sick". Your writer's powers making you see through... *coughs* unlike Tsuzuru....

AND YEAH ALL YOU SAY ABOUT THE CG.. YEAH. Kinda crying thinking about it again now LDKJFLKDJF It's just. Everything about it is so soft and tender. The things Tsuzuru tells Kazunari are soo so sweet sobs. They're just adorable i love those kids. and also i feel you for Kazu he's just that great huh?

The whole set up about Kazu dropping by his room is so so cute! I love it! Like probably the very first time Tsuzuru braces himself because "oh no i'm not in the mood to stand mister hyperenergy himself" but Kazunari quickly adjust his energy so that Tsuzuru can just recharge without being overwhelmed. Yes it would drive Masumi completely nuts. Which i think is a plus for Tsuzuru like, hey, if Masumi gets annoyed once in a while it's a win. But yeah also i think that Tsuzuru and Kazunari should really have the Artistic Soldiarity of Students in Art school Probably Working Until Very Late To Complete Their Projects. Would love if at the end Tsuzuru gave it back yaknow?

but yeah their story was really nice i'm so glad you liked it! :D

oh god yeah Itaru and Citron were SO cute in it too, i also love the comments Citron makes about Itaru's winks. Just there flirting in front of everyone like those two embarrassing friends huh. (probably with Muku being all starry eyes considering he greatly admires both Itaru and Citron and, well, Romance.). And yeah i love how Itaru ends up so much into Citron's rhythm (and this idiom you said? is glorious actually, 10 points for you)

DLKFJDLKF what a call out toward Yuki. "yes i hate Tenma,no i won't shut up about him, also if YOU say you hate Tenma i'm going to stab you with my needles, have a nice fucking day.". I love their dynamics so much aha

And yeah Itaru is there cursing us the whole time with the fact he's the greatest nerd ever and it fits him perfectly. It makes me laugh so hard.

Thank you so much for having shared your thoughts there! it's always a blast to read through them and i dearly enjoyed it! (+ it makes me relive the event a little and it makes me soft!)

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! So glad you had so many thoughts about all of this, what a blast.

thank you for sharing, and looking forward the Autumn/Winter reactions :3c

Take care!

[tartagliaxx]

first off, hello 🤷‍♀️ anon! sorry i missed you out

and secondly, dw, marius is my favourite too lol, he reminds me a lot of my younger cousin who i lived with when i was younger. i was always the one who took care of him and marius calling me older sister just set off so much memories of my childhood. the both of them are also vv similar in personality, attention seeking, playful and artistic so i always see him whenever i look at marius.

artem is probably my second favourite ngl, ever since i read his ssr where he was jealous and got drunk (what a good combination lmao) i just grew so soft for him. at the end of the day, he's just a vv soft sweetheart who's insecure that we'll leave him :(( i have like 3 ssrs at lvl36, two of them are artem cards and the other is luke. i vibe with luke too bc i love the childhood friends trope, it's top tier. and as for vyn... i have vv mixed feelings abt him. i feel like he could so easily see through me if he was real and i'm just like, how about no. he's rlly pretty though, like rlly pretty.

*major spoilers*

and you've finished the archon quests!!! personally, i feel like the ending felt a bit rushed(?). it's weird bc i thought the resistance war against the raiden shogun was supposed to be the center of the story, but it just devolved to us helping yae with the entire war being swept to the side. and i already knew somebody was gonna die, and as soon as i saw that teppei had become the captain, i just knew.

it's interesting bc i would love to explore what happened to la signora and scaramouche to make them so disregarding of human life. like, i don't like them, but i want to understand their minds. it's sad to read signora's artifact's background honestly. and the fact that her crown said she used to be called rosalyne, that she had perhaps once led a more innocent and naive existence. i dunno, to me it seems like a good ending for her honestly, she had already lost herself after her lover's death and brings pain to many others, i don't think she can rlly return to being her again.

and honestly, a lot of people are talking abt scaramouche not telling signora he already had the gnosis and saying that he orchestrated her death, i don't rlly think so. i feel like he's just that apathetic to human life, even if it's someone that stands on his side, he just doesn't care enough. it also says how he never got along with anyone, not even his fellow harbingers, so i don't know why ppl expect him to seek out someone he doesn't like just to warn her of danger.

i vibe with scaramouche and la signora as the antagonists bc they're good antagonists, but as characters, well. other than the fact that they're pretty, they have like one likeable trait and that is their loyalty. they would do anything for the tsaritsa even if it cost them their life. i'm rlly excited to see what the tsaritsa has in store for us in the future.

considering our sibling is nicknamed 'the prince/princess', i wonder if there's gonna be a day where we're gonna have to go toe to toe with them. if we had them backed them into a corner with no way out, i wonder if they would kill us. it would be an interesting twist if we could actually die, but i feel like the protagonist halo will prevent it lol and i'm sorry bc god, this is so long.

— r. anon

marius. that’s the tweet. man,, you dont realize how in love i am w him?? like,, this man was literally my only hope when i fell horribly sick. i cant w myself now that i’m hearing it w my own voice. it must be nice to remember the good ol’ days… i despise my cousins and i dont have siblings so i dont really have that sort of connection w him. to me, his onee-san is just a joke? a petname? idk but it simultaneously makes me so mad and giddy just like childe’s existence does

i like vyn bc his vibes are sus but at the same time, he’s cares abt our mental health 🥺👉👈 no one’s ever said shit like that to me… jokes aside, luke is seriously threatening his spot bc of his blushing bs like pls 🤲 i’m so weak for that shit give me more. artem makes me soft too like,, he keeps mentioning that he trusts us and he’s just…. HE’S A BIG TEDDY BEAR THAT BLUSHES AT LIKE ACCIDENTAL HAND BRUSHES GRRRR. in conclusion, i love them all.

but man,, give me ssr luck… literally, im in pain…

now that the excitement’s worn off, i can now judge things properly. i think that… the pacing is horrible. like the plot is good, genuinely, but there’s just,, so much to explore abt this. if you think abt it, this is the climax and yet we didnt get much. scratch that. we got a lot but it’s all underdeveloped that it felt like nothing. we go to sangonimiya, got promoted, became captain for like, one sec before we are sent onto an investigation that didnt really produce any results bc app teppei alr knows everything? and then the delusion thing is a good plot point but it’s not really explored? just… a lot of things are left unexplored and i think that story wise, a lot of the possible lore explanations went down the drain. it would’ve been nice if we saw more abt the rebellion and if we had gotten to know whats the real deal w the commissions but eh… idk… i would’ve rather done more quests abt this whole storyline than like… do that whole dance w the three people who lost their vision in 2.0.

if im going to be honest, la signora is such a wasted character. like maybe her death was just for the shock factor or maybe it’s to prepare us for more harbinger encounters in the future.. idk but she’s such a good character from what we’ve seen but we know jack shit abt her and her motives. we know a little from the artifact set but beyond that, what do we have?

precisely! that’s how i feel abt this whole thing when we’re talking seriously. like w ei, i dont really agree w whatever they’re doing but i want to understand why they do the things that they do. everything has a reason and their psychology is just interesting to me.

i think scaramouche’s nature makes it easy for him to disregard human life. call it arrogance or whatever but ultimately, he’s seeing himself as smth above all these people bc he’s more or less capable of standing toe to toe w a god. why should he bother telling signora? it’s not like he gains anything if he does. i think that when he got the gnosis, he’s just ‘well she dies if she dies. who cares abt that? i dont have any need for incompetent colleagues anw’ i agree and i dont think he orchestrated her death but at the same time, he just allowed it to happen too.

as for signora, i’m actually surprised? for the most part, i think that the harbingers took their posts for selfish reasons. for scara, it’s to entertain himself and pass time. for childe, it’s to fight and grow stronger. for dottore, it’s to conduct dubious research w/o anyone stopping him. i expected signora to have some similar motive like power or money but it seems like she does actually believe in the tsaritsa? it would be very intriguing if signora’s main motive in becoming a harbinger is simply bc she is loyal to the tsaritsa and her will. bc in contrast, i think scara and dottore are more loyal to the fact that the tsaritsa can give them what they want, not bc they actually like her. actually, idek if they’re willing to die for her lol. like i wouldnt be surprised if they suddenly abandon post in a life or death situation but who knows…

in any case, they are very good antagonists. i like yo think that the tsaritsa isnt as bad as the game portrays her to be… of all the gods, she’s the one im looking forward to the most but… haha… what version would that be….

i’m almost certain that they’ll make us fight our twin maybe before we face the unknown god? if one of them dies, i would be very sad. like legit. but knowing mhy, well, our twin is almost 100% a walking death flag.

anw i’m shutting up rn— i also spoke too much kahdjabdhakbsjansb—

[teethands]

FF HEADCANON LIST

CRACKS KNUCKLES these are all imported from google docs bc thats where ive been keeping all my thoughts :] im not sure if theres any repeat HCs in here and im sorry if someones got to me before i have but these all came from my own brain !!! these are all very miscellaneous HCs but they generally revolve around vivosaurs and revival. some of them are rather macabre so a solid CW warning here for mentions of dinosaur body horror and death. ALSO SPOILERS FOR FOSSIL FIGHTERS 1 AND 2 BUT MOSTLY 2 LETS GO

modern boneysaurs/zombiesaurs

i think it is entirely possible to replicate a boney/zombiesaur outside of whatever sorcery zongazonga used to resurrect them in the first place. i think its relatively well known undead vivosaurs are a direct result of ZZ and his ancient tournament, and although zombiesaurs are usually claimed to be used in such tournaments most often, i think boneysaurs are just a variant of that but where less used due to weakness and general incompatibility. theyre all undead vivosaurs. thats it. on to the meat of this headcanon, boney/zombiesaur resurrection: i think zombiesaurs could be the result of attempting to revive a deceased vivosaur, while boneysaurs might be caused by man or machine malfunction while reviving a fossil. i think this might be an interchangeable effect: zombiesaurs might emerge from resurrections, and boneysaurs might emerge from revivals, although altogether i think this entire phenomenon is extremely rare. fossil revival goes entirely against the laws of nature and thus, nature must step in at some points to attempt to stop the process, although common fossil park high-tech machinery probably stops most instances like this from happening. boneysaurs emerging from failed revivals are almost always the cause of very poor cleaning, (maybe attempting to revive a heavily damaged, failed fossil head?) or outdated/unkempt fossil revival machinery. boney/zombiesaurs were so common in ZZ’s time because of such poor methods of revival. at some point during a “doomed” fossil revival, the skin and flesh of the vivosaur its supposed to resemble never quite “renders” in. the skin is registered and stitched together, but only holds the bones in place with an unknown black substance, leaving it void black in the same way a texture in a video game may just fail to load. presumably boneysaurs are almost always immediately dead in the revival chamber after the process is over due to lack of functioning organs, skin, etc, without some kind of support or magic. or maybe they are magic- every bad unnatural part of a revival machine fused into one being, and thats what allows them to live on. on the other hand, this could mean any type of boneysaur could emerge from any dinosaur- pterosaurs, therizinosaurs, raptors, maybe- maybe- just a thought, maybe even super revival vivosaurs could have this effect happen too. so, so rarely though. so rarely, its probably never even happened before in recorded vivosaur revival history. 

as for zombiesaurs- this phenomenon could happen when a recently deceased vivosaur is attempted revival. recently deceased, as in, undecayed flesh-still-in-tact. i imagine this happens much more often than boneysaurs- although, i dont think many people are trying to revive dead vivosaurs.

zombiesaurs, fresh from the revival chamber, are almost always damned and in pain, and serve as a reminder to fighters that the laws of nature can only be twisted so far, and they are best be put down. presumably no fossil cleaning facilities will allow a fighter to attempt to revive a dead vivosaur due to the danger and the frightening, disturbing nature of zombiesaurs. fossil damage + neon goo every fighter has encountered the bright purple (green in the OG FF) substance that appears during cleaning when a fossil is too damaged in one area. this material wouldnt be produced from the fossil itself, but rather generated by the fossil cleaning machinery when it detects damage within the bone, kinda like a 3D printer. this is why fossil cleaning is so meticulous, and why it has to be done in such specific conditions with heavy surveillance and a tight time limit. this prevents the vivosaur from having broken bones when it is revived- it is a bright, obvious substance, and it feels much like a warm, firm jelly with a hard, synthetic core that sews bones together. maybe its different in other regions, explaining the color difference amongst games. it is almost completely unnoticeable when the vivosaur is revived, nearly perfectly mimicking bone and flesh to prevent issues later on in the vivosaurs life. as good of a bone mimic as it might be, i think a very heavily damaged bone would still be a weak point during battle or an area of pain or irritation for the vivosaur. that is why it is best to clean your fossils as well as you can. maybe this goo is designed to be replaced with real bone by the vivosaurs body later in life, but i have yet to think about that too much. perhaps its soft enough to be destroyed and replaced by the body’s natural healing functions, but hard enough to act as bone? And perhaps thats why its best to let your vivosaur rank up (rest+heal) before taking them to battle. UNRELATED HEADCANON- GUHNASH COULD HAVE HAD A COOLER DESIGN. I DONT LIKE HIM HE LOOKS LIKE A TADPOLE. i have a vision in mind for a cooler guhnash redesign- i like the snake-ish look, but maybe he could be like. an infinitely long being. nobody knows where he starts or ends. a head at the front of an infinitely massive body that consumes everything, and nobody knows where the eaten planets goes. kinda like a jörmungandr-like being. idk i just think a “planet eater” with living brains should be more eldritch and god-like and mysterious. ANYWAYS vivosaur ecosystems? there is literally no way a vivo ecosystem wouldnt form. NO WAY. so many dinosaurs and seeing how OFTEN they are abandoned- refer to the opening scene of fossil fighters champions- it would not be any surprise feral vivosaurs wouldnt breed and form small ecosystems among themselves and around fossil parks. its not an uncommon sight to see pterosaurs flying overhead or sauropods munching on trees, although id bet theropods and more dangerous vivosaurs would have teams of park rangers to keep them under control. refer once again to FFC opening scene. this would explain the seemingly infinite amount of fossils in the dig sites, how you can find vivosaurs in only specific areas- although thats leading into a rather dark topic and i would rather not talk about it right now LOL i will leave that open to interpretation. jurassic park knock off SOME OTHER LITTLE MISC HCS TOO SHORT TO WRITE ENTIRE TOPICS ABOUT: because ZZ is a mix of boneysaur and zombiesaur and hes also an ancient sorcerer he smells fucking rank. so fucking bad. hes got maggots and shit hes only held together by magic but somehow he kicks ass. but hes fucking stinky so at what cost boneysaurs have no concept of feelings and arent really desirable as vivos and zombiesaurs only know rage and pain, also making them undesirable, for very very good reasons. they are taboo to talk about among fighters but most of the time they are only myths because of how rare they are feral vivosaurs dont have medals, only revived vivos do. that means they are standalone animals and they are also generally undesirable for fighters but they can still be tamed, if one wishes. theres way, WAY more fossil parks and dig sites than shown in the games. fossil battling is as well known and used as much as people love music and video games in the fossil fighters universe. vivosaurs are an essential part of society, although there is often controversy on the ethics of fossil battles and revival. pokemon knock off alright thats all i feel like typing for now thanks for reading this far lads. i love dinossuars. i wanna write some things on dinaurians but maybe later after ive introduced saar here :)

[ddaenggtan]

forever rain | knj | m

Being dead isn't anything exciting. Just a lot of walking the same halls of the same apartment day after day after day. Things change when the new tennant arrives, though. Kim Namjoon isn't anything you could have expected; not the way he's so careful and gentle with his plants because he breaks so many other things, not the way his friends joke that he's psychic because you refuse to let him get in the face one time, and certainly not the way he comes home after literal months spent moving things away from table edges for him and announces that he knows he's being haunted and he has some questions for you. You didn't know ghosts could fall in love, but he makes you feel alive again, like you're standing in the rain while thunder crashes around you. You should've known nothing good would come of falling in love with someone living, though. You should've known that heartbreak was the only way this could end...that the rain doesn't last forever. 

part of the Love Yourself Collab, please please please go check out the other fics. Everyone involved is so freaking talented and I have been vibrating out of my skin with how excited I’ve been to read all of these. 

pairing | kim namjoon x reader (unspecified gender, even!)

word count | 18.8k | cross posted to ao3

genre/warnings | ghost!reader, slight fluff, hard angst, literally the most angst ever it gets fluffy for a bit but litERALLY this is an angst fic, major character death, unprotected sex (idk what the etiquette for ghost sex is but you should still wrap it before you tap it fam), depictions of terminal illness (v mild), mentions of blood (several, but not graphic), major character death, allusions to violence, namjoon is a klutz whats new, depictions of terminal illness, major character death, i added that tag three times pls dont read this if you aren’t comf with mcd bc i literally tagged it three times so y’all would definitely see it, also probably have some tissues ready bc i cried while writing it so 

a/n | this is, to date, the saddest thing i have ever written in my entire fucking life. formal apologies to this joon bc oh my god you poor soul. i’m not kidding when i say you might cry, because i’m a big baby wuss and cried while writing the fucking outline when i first decided to write this for the collab so like......rip my own heart. i was really honored when i was approached about the LYA collab, bc like,,,,,mE? WHAT? and i was really nervous because i’ve never been part of any collabs in any fandom ever, and to have to do something like forever rain and mono as a whole justice, like,,,,,,, *screaming* y’know?? so i went on mono lockdown and just had the whole thing on repeat and was like “alright. what emotions does this make me feel.” and i eventually settled on the loneliness and isolation that he expresses, and feeling like no one understands what you’re going through, but that ultimately the album as a whole and forever rain give off this feeling of like. things get better, you’re not as alone as you feel, and you just gotta get through the bad stuff to find the good stuff. basically i just got really in my feels about it and was like ‘lets make myself cry ahahaha’ and,,,i dID i cried several times while planning and writing and editing bc im a Soft Bitch and don’t read much angst for that exact reason lmao. so buckle tf up y’all, this a helluva ride!! 

Of all the things you'd heard about death, all the different possibilities that existed in the world, the one thing you hadn't been prepared for was the boredom. You hadn't been prepared for any of it, really, too surprised by your own demise to plan at all, but even if you'd been able to, you don't think that this is what you would've counted on. An eternity - or however long ghosts existed - of being stuck in the same studio apartment you'd lived in when you died. The same walls, the same floor, the same view out the only window of the alley beside the building. It's boring and lonely and boring.

You've found more creative ways to entertain yourself as time passes. First, you started by figuring out just what being a ghost meant. You can't really communicate with anyone, haven't figured out how to make sure everything you say is heard, but you can manipulate objects pretty easily these days. The most difficult thing is becoming fully corporeal - completely visible and able to interact with things at the same time. It's hard enough to be visible, and you aren't really sure what the point of it would be when it would just scare whoever's living in your apartment; that's the last thing you want to do, run them off when they're the best source of amusement you've found.

You won't lie, you were a little offended when the first tenants moved in after you. It was difficult to watch your things get packed up and moved out by your friends, hard to lose all of the little things you loved in your apartment, like the shitty bead curtain you'd gotten as a gag gift or the photo collage of all of your loved ones. It's frustrating to not know how they're all doing these days; the one time you got brave enough to fuck with a laptop to check on them, you nearly broke the thing, and you haven't tried since. Still, it seemed cathartic for them to clear out your apartment, and it was a bittersweet sight, but you tried to focus on the positive side of it.

And then the couple moved in.

Not only did they fuck like rabbits - which is something you're going to stay pissed about, because there's no satisfaction to be had by you anymore, and it's the one thing you can think of that would be endlessly entertaining - but the couple was also grossly obnoxious. They had zero respect for your apartment , or you, and while one could argue that they didn't actually know you were there, it still made the sting of losing your entire life that much worse. You spent you don't know how many nights hovering awkwardly in the bathroom while they fucked, would constantly wander in to see them going at it on the kitchen counter at ass o'clock in the morning, and once you came in to see them tossing actual literal eggs at the ceiling like the absolute fucking weirdos they were.

So, naturally, you got a little mad. How dare they treat your apartment like that? They had no respect, but they were going to learn it real quick if they were going to live there with you, whether they wanted to or not.

They didn't last long after the first night of slamming cabinets and squealing hinges, but the thrown picture frame of their family was the conclusive end to their stay.

There have been others, since then. They haven't all been terrible, not like that first couple, but most of them have been sub-par roommates, and if you decided early on that if the rest of your immortal life is going to be locked in one shitty apartment with the absolute worst view in the city - because no one wants to see the drunken hookups and potential body dumps that take place in that alley - then you're at least going to share said apartment with someone nice to exist with.

You release a heavy sigh, staring at where your hand disappears through the shower wall. You've taken to testing the boundaries of the apartment again; you already know what the result will be, learned in the first few hours that you're stuck here, but you can't help trying when you get really bored. You just got distracted fucking around with the pipes in the meantime, because you're literally too bored to even focus. It's part of why you miss the last tenants so much, because you weren't ever really bored with them around.

A single mother and her two kids, crammed into a much-too-small apartment because it was all they could afford, and they were the light of your un-life. One a budding teenager that wrote angsty poetry who loved your trick of making things float around, and one an adorable toddler who adored playing peekaboo with you and coloring, and a mom that was too busy to notice anything out of the ordinary. It was like having a family again, made you feel useful when you could pull the meat out of the freezer for her to make dinner with or scratch a quick 'do your homework' on a steamy bathroom mirror. It was fun and it made being dead that much more bearable.

You really should've known that letting the toddler draw the two of you would be a bad idea, especially since there were several artistic liberties taken. It's not your fault the kid thought you'd look cool with fangs and bloody holes instead of eyes and claws that reached the floor. It was art, it was supposed to be a little different from reality. Still, you can't blame her for seeing the picture of her kid and 'my new best friend' and immediately calling the landlord. And a priest.

So, perhaps you gave the apartment a bit of a reputation. Maybe it's been a couple of months since the mom moved out and took your two buds with her. There might be the possibility that you've been the slightest bit salty about losing your friends and you've been extra-ghost-y whenever someone comes by to view the place in an attempt to make yourself feel a little better. Can you really be blamed for that? You just want a decent damn roommate for your life after death, and if that means putting the potentials through a little bit of a test, then so be it. You only feel a little bit bad for the landlord.

The creak of the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and the echo of a voice makes you narrow your eyes. Your first instinct is to slam some windows to scare off whoever's in your apartment, but you repress the urge. You'd die of boredom if you could die again, and whoever this is could provide a few hours' entertainment at the least.

You pop your head through the bathroom wall to see what's going on, and wow , who let an actual giant into your apartment? Fucking with the pipes could definitely wait for this guy.

"I know it's last minute, yeah," He says into the phone that's held carefully between his cheek and shoulder. His arms are loaded down with boxes and he's angled away from you just enough that you can't see his face, but he's tall and broad and wearing what looks like the world's comfiest sweater, and you want to badly to wrap yourself up in him. "But you know Joon needs the help. Don't pretend you aren't constantly willing to put off your thesis, I know for a fact that you went out to look at stationery with Tae last week, and everyone knows that's the most boring thing on the planet."

He's quiet, listening to the soft crackle of a voice from the other end. You slide through the wall completely, hovering as close as you dare to try and hear what the other person is saying. Tall, Broad, and Comfy scoffs.

"He can stare at one sheet of paper for at least ten minutes, Yoongi. Do I need to remind you of the time he spent an entire fucking hour debating which set of holiday scrapbook to buy because, and I quote, 'this one has the really nice rose pattern on it that would look great with the invitations, but, oh, look at the pinstripes in this one!'" His voice morphs into what you guess is an approximation of whoever Tae is, and you laugh at the high-pitched, nasally tone.

Tall and Broad spins, eyes narrowing as he looks around the room, and fuck , he's literally gorgeous. You've never seen someone more attractive in your life or your death and it would probably knock the wind out of you if you actually had breath. Comfy McGorgeous turns back around and sets the stack of boxes in the corner, continuing his tirade about Tae and stationery while simultaneously trying to talk Yoongi into coming, you assume, to help Joon move. You don't know who any of these people are, but they're already proving to be the most entertaining bunch that's ever graced these walls.

The door to your apartment flies open, making both you and Boyfriend Material whip your head around.

"Christ, Jin, you couldn't hold the fucking door open for us?" Someone grunts. Beauty Von Softness - or, Jin, as you should probably refer to him - winces and strides over to do just that as two more guys stagger in with a couch suspended between them. The second they're in the door they drop it to the ground and flop onto it, panting and sweaty.

"Listen, I was busy trying to get our resident hermit out of his cave to help us carry some of this shit," Jin spits back. "And you all know what it's like getting him out and about."

"Did you tell him that there's pizza after we're done? Because I've found that food is the best motivator for him," the guy closest to the door says. His hair is soft-looking and long and you wish you could pet it.

The other guy, the one who cursed Jin out and has the softest pink hair you've ever seen, laughs. "Jeongguk, you always think the best motivator is food."

"Well, yeah, because it is."

"For you, maybe. Other people require actual rewards."

"But food is a reward," Jeongguk mutters into the fabric of the couch. Jin tsks and smacks As Yet Unnamed on the back of the head.

"You're lucky I hung up on him when you bombarded your way into this place, or he'd definitely not come help us," Jin says as he leans against the back of the couch.

Unnamed starts to say something else but is cut off by someone running straight into the end of the couch. They all shoot to their feet, spouting apologies as the three of them maneuver the couch into the apartment properly.

"Sorry, sorry, Jimin distracted us from properly finishing our job," Jeongguk says quickly. He looks to the stranger with a small apologetic smile, and you're pretty sure if it were humanly possible, there would be actual literal stars in his eyes.

"Oh, it's okay, Jeonggukkie. I should've been looking where I was going." New Challenger walks straight towards where you stand, and you realize seconds before it's too late that he is not aware there is a massive stack of boxes in his path. Instinctively, you shove them to the side with your foot. Tall And Oblivious sets his boxes down without any trouble, none the wiser about any of it, and the three near the couch are too busy bickering in hushed whispers to have noticed you doing anything.

The newcomer straightens and turns to look at them all with a bright smile, and you think you might actually see The Light in the way his cheeks dimple. If you thought the other three were beautiful - which they are, no doubt about that, you're seriously wondering why the hell a bunch of supermodels are moving stuff into your apartment - then this guy is easily an Actual Fucking God or something. His brown hair is soft and shiny, his smile is warmer than the sun, and you're fairly positive that for the first time since you died, you feel goosebumps along your arms.

"Seriously, Namjoon, we should've realized you'd be up soon. You stay, start unpacking while we go get the rest of the furniture." Jimin shoves Jeongguk out the door while he's speaking, ignoring the taller's complaints, and Jin just shakes his head at the sight.

"Yoongi'll be here soon, he's finishing up another draft of his thesis. Hobi and Tae are stopping to get the pizzas and then they'll be here, too." Jin's voice is calmer than it was Jimin and Jeongguk, more soothing, and it makes you curious. Not only because of the tone change, but because you know Hobi, he owns the building and is the one who rented you the apartment when you first moved in. One of your favorite things to do is scare him when he comes by to make sure everything’s ready for a viewing.

"What? No, I said I was gonna pay for pizzas!" Namjoon looks distinctly more upset about this than someone should over not having to pay for pizza, at least in your mind, and it only makes you more curious.

"Yeah, but you also just moved out of your old apartment because it was too expensive, and had like an hour to load everything into a truck, so you're gonna let their trust fund asses pay for pizzas. We're seven adult men, and Guk could eat an entire horse and still be hungry. I'm not letting you pay for that."

Silence hangs in the apartment for a while before Namjoon gives a soft thanks to Jin. They share a smile before Jin makes his way back out. You follow each step, shadowing him all the way to the door before you're stopped. You lean your entire body forward, struggling against the invisible barrier keeping you inside, and the force of it nearly slams you back into the wall when you sag in defeat.

You aren't sure why you try anymore, but you know yourself well enough to admit that you're not going to stop until you can at least make it to the hallway.

Whatever you expected Namjoon to be like as a roommate, however unknowing he is about the situation, you don't think you could've guessed what he's actually like.

Out of the seven boys you saw the day he moved in, he's the only one living there. Not a complete surprise, considering it's a studio apartment, but you remember when there were nine people living there at one point, and there was barely room for anyone to breathe even if it had been pretty consistently amusing. Still, for one person, he's got a ton of stuff, and it's a shock it all fits. His bed is massive and comfortable and the best place to lay during the day because it's shoved between the brick half-wall and the large windows that take up one wall. The area's supposed to be for a dining table, you think, but you'd had your bed there, too, and the familiarity is nice.

His couch is small and old but manages to fit five of them, and it's a pleasantly jarring difference from the coffee table that looks like - and might actually be - an old steamer trunk. The exposed brick wall you love holds his mounted TV, a feat that took Jeongguk and Yoongi a solid hour and a half because they kept stripping the screws, and it's got one of those 8-cubicle bookshelf things under it that stores a frankly obnoxious amount of books.

He's got mugs for days, an adorable if odd collection of figurines and mini-statues scattered around the apartment, a strange obsession with some reclaimed wood shelf he's got hanging above his bed, but the absolute highlight of it all is The Wall.

It took them three hours to get it installed and set up the way he wanted, between the placements and the thick wooden shelf they’re perched on with supports and a small safety bar along the edge to keep them from falling off, but along the entire windowed wall and partway after it turns the corner runs a long shelf absolutely covered in plants. There are some elsewhere, like the one he keeps hanging from the bathroom ceiling and the couple in the kitchen, but most are on The Wall. Each one is in its own special pot, each a unique color with a name painted carefully along it, and most of them look half-dead. They're all distinct and unique from each other and they all surely have different needs and ideal conditions, but you'd never guess because Namjoon is so wholly committed to them all. He takes time every day to water them and prune them if he needs to, he checks on them constantly. He even reinforced the safety bar for the ones that sit beside his bed, so there was less chance he'd accidentally knock them around while sleeping.

It's fascinating, watching him tend to them. He's so careful and gentle, with absolute precision in every moment. He cares for his plants the way some people would care for a pet or a child. He doesn’t believe any of them are past caring for, slowly nurses all of them back to health and frequently turns up with more he’s saved from some department store. The most endearing thing, though, you decide as you sit curled among the haphazard blankets of his bed and watch, is the talking. It's every day, for as long as it takes him to care for the plants, and it's the cutest thing in the world. He's talking to some succulent as you just stare at him, filling the comfortable silence of the apartment with his soft, soothing voice, and you wish he could hear you when you talk back to him.

"I know they mean well, but at some point, I've just gotta live my own life, y'know? I can't study something just because everyone expects me to, and I can't pursue some dream just because people think I'd be good at it. I've gotta do what's right for me, don't I?" His tone is positive and bright, a contrast to the gloomy sky that casts shadows across the apartment.

You float over, hovering beside him to look at the plant he's lovingly stroking with his thumb. It's in a pretty periwinkle pot, with the name 'Mang' painted in careful but shaky black handwriting. It's not your favorite - that's the one in the bathroom that hangs over its light blue bowl, a quickly scrawled 'Koya' on the bottom - but it seems to be one of Namjoon's personal favorites based on how often he talks to it specifically.

"I think it's nice you do things for yourself," You tell him. He doesn't react, unable to hear you, but it's nice to hear your own voice after so long. You slide one of the plants - Chim, in a small yellow bowl - to the side and away from his elbow, and he doesn't notice. "You know yourself better than they do. You should trust yourself."

He keeps mumbling to Mang, something about everyone following their own dreams and doing what they need over what people want or expect, when you lay your hand over his.

Thunder cracks through the sky and the first raindrops hits the window as your non-existent skin hits his, and it's the most real thing you've felt in a long time. It's as if the scent of ozone and electricity is in the apartment itself, crackling in your hair and filling your nose with the overpowering scent of the sweet summer rain. You can almost feel the water hit your skin, the way the wind whips at your hair, and it's so intoxicating that you almost miss the sharp inhale from the man beside you.

He's not looking at his plant when you look up, but instead at the window in front of the two of you. You glance at it, and for a fraction of a second, you can see yourself in the reflection. The glimpse has you jerking towards it before you can stop yourself, desperate to know if something has changed. You haven't seen your reflection since you died, not in the mirror or the window or the toaster, and maybe, just maybe, it means something's changed.

Your hand stops against the glass of the window as you reach forward. You can't feel the cool of it under your palm, but it's no less a barrier for you as it would be for Namjoon. Something in you breaks as you watch the raindrops race each other to the ground.

"Ah, I forgot the forecast called for rain today," he mutters, eyes focused on the lightning that streaks by. He doesn't react when your fist slams against the glass, nor when you let out the scream that's been building in you for however long it's been since you died. You're so close, not even a hair's breadth from feeling something new yet familiar for the first time in so long, and you can't. You're still stuck in these four walls, unable to even reach the air outside.

You just want to feel the rain again.

You move dejectedly away from the window, ignoring the way Namjoon shivers as you pass. The temperature in the apartment has dropped considerably, you think, between the storm and your own mood. You can't tell, really. You haven't felt warm or cold or hungry or anything since you died that isn't the oppressive loneliness of life after death.

A dry sob tears itself from your throat and you hurry to hide in the bathroom as Namjoon turns to look around him. He mumbles something you can't hear and after a few minutes, he returns to tending to his plants, leaving you to your tear-less cries in peace.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that Namjoon should really have a roommate, if only to save him from himself. It takes a few weeks for you to realize this, but luckily he seems to narrate his life as he goes through it - which is overwhelmingly adorable to you, and you refuse to acknowledge that - and that means that you hear it every time he goes, "Ah, Namjoon, be more careful next time," or "Oh, shoot, that's not, fuck, I gotta buy more eggs now." It's painful to watch, even for you, and at some point, you just couldn't take it anymore. No one else is around to help, but someone needs to you, and clearly the universe means for you to be that someone.

It's a full-time job, protecting him from himself. You've saved countless mugs, pushing them farther away from the edges of counters and tables, and been just in time to shove bowls or vases an inch over so that his elbows glide harmlessly past them. It's almost exhausting, if you could get tired you would, but it's worth it, you think, as you catch the bookshelf under the TV as it tilts. You slide it gently to the floor, glad that Namjoon is distracted by how close he came to losing a toe to notice.

Because that's the other thing about this tree of a man: he's the most oblivious person you've ever fucking seen. It doesn't matter what it is you do, whether it's bouncing his spray bottle of water so it doesn't break on the hard floor or shake the counters so that the knife he's about to drop on his fucking hand falls the other way, he doesn't see a single fucking thing. You'd think he was blind if he wasn't so attentive to the way his plants grow. He notices nothing and you're glad for it because you really aren't sure what he would do if he knew you were going around haunting him just to keep him alive. You just want to help, want to keep the soft smile he wears more often around for as long as possible.

You don't dare to look into why you want that, too afraid of what you might find there.

It's also just fun to watch him and his friends, relaxed and unreserved. You never had many friends when you were alive, just a small handful that you really truly loved and whom you miss every day. Watching these seven boys fills you with nostalgia and a strange sense of joy because they really are some of the funniest people you've ever been around.

Like now, with four of them sprawled on the couch while Jeongguk and Hoseok make themselves comfortable leaning against the bookshelf under the TV - which has been bolted to the wall since it almost broke Namjoon's foot - and Namjoon watches them all from his bed since it's the only other place to sit. There are beer bottles scattered around and decorating the half-wall that separates the bed from the room proper, everyone is varying levels of drunk, and you're curled up close to Namjoon, leaning against the wall so you can stop him from knocking over any of the bottles nearby because you know him too well at this point.

"I'm just saying, I don't understand why they made him so over-powered in the new movies, because he's supposed to be some kid from Brooklyn! Giving him the high-tech suit essentially strips him of the friendly neighborhood persona that he's always relied on!" Jeongguk has been ranting for a while about the newest release in the Spiderman franchise - apparently, he's part of the actual Avengers now, which is a shock to you since the last thing you heard before you died was that the franchise was canceled until further notice or something.

"And I'm saying that if they didn't give him the suit then it would've made no sense how he was able to do those things," Yoongi responds. You're pretty sure he's just arguing to be contrary at this point, because you remember him telling Namjoon the other day that he prefers DC over Marvel.

"Garfield's Spiderman could do those things," you mutter, "And he didn't have a fancy suit."

"Okay, then how do you explain Andrew Garfield's version being able to do that stuff? He doesn't need the suit, he never has!" You preen at the way Jeongguk echoes your thoughts. "I'm telling you, I don't care how good the relationship with Holland's Spidey and Iron Man is, by giving him the tech and the advancements they did, they've undermined everything that Spiderman is supposed to be about."

"Jeongguk come off it, everyone knows Garfield's Spidey was just all bad writing. I mean, what kind of person can do all that stuff, realistically? He's the one that really needed the Stark suit." Taehyung's voice is slurred and quiet, definitely as drunk as the rest of them. 

"What-! No! I could do half of that without being bitten by a weird science spider!" Jin scoffs at Jeongguk's words. 

"Yeah, sure, Guk. The same way you can do that bottlecap challenge."

"Bottle cap challenge, and yeah, I could!" The youngest stands and you don't bother to hide your grimace. 

"This isn't going to end well, is it?" You ask. No one acknowledges you, too busy finding something Jeongguk can kick the cap off of as the boy readies himself. He's steady on his feet but his face is red and he can't seem to stop giggling. 

"If I do this, you gotta call me SpiderGuk from now on, okay?" He says. No one agrees, but it doesn't stop him from laughing again and doing a couple of roundhouse kicks to warm up. 

"Okay, okay, Joonie doesn't have any regular water bottles, but we found a screw-top beer in the fridge so ya gotta use that," Jimin says as he stumbles over with said bottle. Jeongguk just nods, an adorable focused expression on his face. Jimin holds the bottle in the air, and you can already tell his grip isn't tight enough to keep the bottle still when Jeongguk kicks it. 

The next ten seconds happen in slow-motion. Jeongguk's leg flies out to kick but his drunken body isn't able to handle the sudden shift in balance, and he slips. His foot hits the bottle slightly too low, and it goes flying out of Jimin's weak grip into the air. Everyone in the room watches as it hurtles straight towards Namjoon's face, and you react out of habit and instinct, catching it in one hand before you even realize you've moved. 

Everyone freezes, staring at where the bottle hovers in front of Namjoon's face. You're the only one able to see your fingers wrapped around it. A shock jolts through you at the realization of what you've done and you drop the bottle as if it burned you. Fuck, they were all going to freak, then Namjoon would move out and you'd be stuck alone once more. You should've just shoved him out of the way, what were you thinking, you're so fucking stupid-

"Dude," Hoseok mutters from where he's perched on the arm of the couch. "Holy shit, Joon, you're fucking telepathic." 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and smacks his chest. "Telekinetic, you fucking-"

"Holy shit, you've got fucking superpowers!" Jeongguk squeaks. "Do it again!"

Namjoon isn't even able to get a word out before there's a book flying at his face, and you panic. You can't catch it, too rushed, but you manage to deflect it so it hits the bed with a soft thump instead of braining Namjoon straight in the nose. 

"Woah, you really do have superpowers," Jimin whispers. He lobs a bottlecap at Namjoon, and you catch it in your palm before letting it drop onto the half-wall. 

"I don't have...what the fuck you guys," Namjoon insists. His eyes are as wide as saucers behind the thick glasses he has on. He looks freaked out and you want nothing more than to hug him. Your hand reaches out of its own accord, halfway closing the distance to stroke his hair before you catch yourself. 

"Hey, levitate your plants," Jin demands. Namjoon looks panicked as he glances at the wall of plants, and you heave a sigh. With any luck, they're so drunk that they'll remember this as a strange fever dream, but you can't just let them keep throwing things at him. You crawl over to the wall, avoiding Namjoon as you do, and grasp one of the plants tight. It's a white pot with red polka dots, a simple RJ on the side, and it's fucking heavy. You only get it a few inches off the shelf before you're forced to put it down.

"Oh my god, catch this!" Taehyung throws a coffee mug straight at Namjoon's head and you panic again. You catch it, and you've decided you're fucking sick of them throwing things at him, so you lob it back and dart across the room to bounce it safely to the counter before it can break. 

Everyone in the room stares at the mug and then looks back at Namjoon, who hasn't moved from his spot on the bed. 

"Oh my god, you're a superhero," Jeongguk whispers, awe in his eyes. 

"That's fucked up," Yoongi mutters, wincing when Hoseok elbows him. 

"Maybe we should get some sleep," Namjoon says quietly. The others look like they want to disagree with him, and you have no doubt they want to explore the newfound 'abilities' of their friend, but they still start gathering trash together before they head out. 

Namjoon lays awake for a long time that night, glasses folded and sitting atop the half-wall beside you. He's oblivious to the way you watch him, too lost in thought to feel the weight of your stare or the chill in the air. 

"I don't understand," He says after a while. "I really don't, but there's got to be a reason for it." He doesn't elaborate, merely turns over and evens his breathing out until he starts snoring, but you watch him for most of the night. He's fascinating, this human, and you wonder what makes him so different from the others you've met. 

He apparently decides to experiment. You've known Namjoon is intelligent since he first moved in and you saw his collectible encyclopedias, but you hadn't realized just what it would be like in actuality. 

It starts simple. He'll toss something in the air and let it clatter to the ground. Nothing big, just little things like pencils or bottlecaps, and not far, just enough that his eyes narrow as he apparently tries to use his telekinetic abilities to manipulate them. 

It slowly graduates from there. Next comes the way he stares at something across the room, hyper-focused on whatever it is until you notice and move it around for him. It's a guessing game, sometimes, trying to figure out just what he wants to move or how he wants to move it, but each time you're successful, he smiles so brightly, dimples on full display. Who wouldn't want to make him smile like that?

It's hit or miss, sometimes. You're only so strong, and while you've had a lot of practice, you still get tired. You lifted his bookshelf almost a full inch before blacking out. Next thing you knew, a couple of days had passed and Namjoon was staring at a coffee mug. That was a significantly less fun day; between losing time and having to catch coffee mug after coffee mug, you were exhausted and a little shaken. 

So when he stops staring at things for extended periods of time, when he starts to go back to reading and scrolling the internet and bingeing all the completed shows that Netflix and Amazon had to offer, you're grateful for it. He still occasionally tests it out; he's always subtle about it, choosing to stare quietly until you notice and make whatever it is float around for a minute. Once you wandered around looking for him - a feat in a studio apartment - and found him just sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at a shampoo bottle.

You'd like to say that you don't move things entirely because he wants you to. It's a good test of your abilities and how far you can push yourself until it becomes too much, and it's always nice to have actual evidence that you still exist - in some form, at least - in the world. The validation that comes from seeing him smile every time you lift a pencil or slide a coffee mug to the side, it's not for any reason but the satisfaction of knowing that you have some kind of existence. Some kind of impact on the world, even if you can't be seen and can't leave the apartment.

It's part of why you start moving things around yourself more often; you're hoping he just blames it on his overactive 'abilities' if he notices because you really aren't sure what he would think otherwise. But you also know for a fact that just seeing that you have some kind of sway over the world still - over the things inside this tiny apartment - makes you feel just that bit better about being dead.

Which is why it's such a fucking shock when the door to the apartment slams open one evening just for Namjoon to slam it closed again and announce into the air, "So I know you're haunting me, please don't try to deny it, I only want to talk to you."

You freeze where you are, halfway through the closet door from where you were reorganizing his clothes because they made no sense and you were bored. He's looking around the apartment, almost desperate in the way he's searching, and you can't bring yourself to move. It's obvious he can't see you, and you aren't even sure if he's being serious, but the way he huffs and clenches his jaw before moving into the kitchen tells you that he probably is.

You follow him, curious, and watch as he pulls a small package out of his bag and starts ripping it open. You float the remains of what looks like gift wrap over to the trashcan, because you know Namjoon will forget, before going back to watching him. He's only a little careful as he cracks something in his hands and then slaps it onto the fridge, and you peek around him to see that it's some kind of words or something. There’s a wide variety, with no clear theme to them, as well as at least one of each letter of the alphabet. It's then you remember the throwaway comment Yoongi made during that night - "You need, like, poetry stuff, like those magnets that go on the fridge that people write that deep shit with, y'know? I'm gonna buy you one," - and realize that he'd followed through on his vow. 

"Alright," Namjoon says, leaning against his kitchen counter and staring at the magnets. "First and foremost, am I really being haunted or is this some kind of hallucination?" His gaze never falters, doesn’t ever drift from the magnetic words now spread across his fridge doors. It takes several minutes to build up the energy and the courage to move closer to the fridge.

You don't look at him as you move the words around, but you can hear the sharp intake of breath. That's likely all the confirmation that he needs, but still you clear a spot and let the words ' I am here ' sit where he can see them clearly. You wrinkle your nose, disliking how formal it sounds, but you have to make do, you suppose.

"Okay," Namjoon breathes. "Okay, prove it. My brain could work this into a hallucination. How do I know you're really a ghost?"

"Seriously?" You huff. "What the fuck am I supposed to do that wouldn't work into a hallucination, dude?"

He gets fidgety in the few minutes that you spend wondering how the fuck you're going to prove that you're a real actual ghost to someone who clearly doesn't believe in them. His foot taps at the floor and he scratches at his hand, which only makes you want to wrap your own hands around his until he stops, much like your best friend used to lay her legs across your lap to get you to stop shaking your knee.

The realization comes in a flash, and you're moving letters around before you can stop yourself.

Face book, Park Jihyo, best friend.

Namjoon stares at it for a long while before he brings his phone out of his pocket and begins to tap at the screen. You don't get too close; you've got a history with shorting out electronics, and you aren't sure you want to know what your best friend is up to without you there with her.

"Okay," Namjoon says. "Okay, I've never seen her before, so I don't think my brain could work her into a hallucination. Okay. Alright. I'm being haunted. This is fine."

"Calm down, I'm haunting the apartment, not you." He doesn't react to your words, as usual, but it still makes you feel the slightest bit better. He stares at his phone for a little longer, and the curiosity burns under your skin, but you resist. You know from experience that if you try to get too close, his phone will stop working. Just like TV, the stereo, the laptops, everything. You've had enough experience with that kind of thing to know what will happen.

"Okay, Casper," Namjoon huffs out after several minutes of waiting. He looks up and his eyes dart around the apartment, and you wonder if he's just nervous or if he's trying to spot you. "Where are you right now? Can you make yourself visible? I mean, I know you're a ghost, but it feels rude not talking to you to your face."

You huff a laugh but reach for a coffee cup. You know you can't just make yourself visible at will; you've only done it a couple of times, to your knowledge, and none of them have been on purpose. It's even more difficult to make yourself corporeal and physical, harder than just manipulating objects, but you did it once. Back when the single mom still lived here, when her toddler was falling and you had no way to cushion the fall except with your own body; you still aren't sure how it happened, but you remember being able to feel the floor against your back and the warmth of the baby on top of you for a split second before you were gone again. You won't forget that any time soon.

You float the mug towards where you stand, holding it in front of your face long enough that when you pull it away, Namjoon's eyes don't follow it. It's a strange feeling; you know he can't see you, can tell by the way his brow furrows and his eyes slide around the space, but it feels like he's looking straight at you. It feels like you're being seen for the first time since you died.

"So, where are you from, Casper?" His tone is forcibly conversational, as if he's trying his best to keep himself calm. You roll your eyes and move the magnets to show ' here ' and he nods. "You're not gonna try to possess me, or kill me, or run me off, are you? No offense or anything. I figure you would've already at this point, but...cover my bases."

No. Am nice. I think.

"You think? You don't know if you're a nice ghost?"

Does anyone truly know if they are nice? You frown, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say with the limited words available. I can only try. It's still not perfect; there's more that you want to say, more that you want to be heard, but this has to do for now.

"I can accept that. Alright. Just talking to a ghost in my kitchen. Okay. This is totally normal." He rubs a hand over his face, and you're a little impressed. Everyone else that's lived here has freaked when presented with the knowledge that you're a ghost. Namjoon looks very much like his world is exploding, but he doesn't have the same fear and apprehension in his eyes. He's certainly coping better than the single mom.

"Are you the only ghost? Here, I mean, are you the only ghost here?" He breathes a sigh of relief at your 'yes.’ "Can you see other ghosts? Do you know any other ghosts?" The 'don't know, no' that you move around on your fridge seems to unsettle him a little, but there's a curiosity burning behind it that makes your skin tingle.

Can't leave, is what you say next, cutting off whatever question he was about to ask.

"You can't leave at all? The building, or the apartment?"

The second.

"Wow. You're really stuck here?" He looks around the apartment as if seeing it for the first time and sucks in a breath. "What do you do all day?"

Watch. He cocks a brow. You are... You hesitate. The word you need isn't there, everything that comes to you is too poetic or corny for you to actually say, but the weight of his eyes is heavy on your hands. Fun is what you settle on, but it's not right either. 'Interesting' isn't there, nor is 'fascinating' or 'lovely,' and you don't want to scare him off by telling him that part of the reason you watch him so much is that he's so full of life that you feel less dead when he's around.

He laughs at your words though and shakes his head ever so slightly. "Alright, well, I'm gonna shower, so just, don't...watch that?" You squawk at the insinuation that you would, quickly rearranging the letters to spell ' privacy' and making a large angry face out of the rest of the words. He's already turned away, though, and it makes you angrier.

You don't want him thinking that you would peep at him. You already make sure that you're facing the windows when he finishes showering, you've been determined to not be creepy since the day he moved in, and to have him think otherwise is like a slap in the face. You slam the mug against the counter and he startles, turning to gape at it. You carry it to where your words and make-do emoji sit waiting for him to notice them.

"Okay," He says quickly. "Okay, privacy, yeah, got it. You respect my privacy. Appreciated."

"How fucking rude," You mutter as you set the mug back down. You don't adjust the magnets as he disappears into the bathroom. You want him to see them, want him to be reminded of the fact that being dead doesn't mean you don't have basic decency.

You can't get him to shut up now that he knows you're there. He still forgets sometimes, mostly when he's talking to his plants or narrating the way he carefully constructs some origami creation, but more often than not, he's talking to thin air. He spends a lot of time perched on his counter, watching you move magnets around his fridge through the thick lenses of his glasses before he spouts off some other question for you to answer. 

He covers the basics first: how old you were when you died, when your birthday is, your favorite color, what you were studying in school, and of course your name, though he insists on calling you Casper. You aren't sure why but you also don't get a chance to question it, because he hits you with more and more questions every day. Sometimes you don't answer because you can't, too limited by the poetry magnets to be able to really converse; sometimes you just don't have the energy to move the magnets around, but those are days are rare. The only times you use the tired magnet are when you find your limbs too heavy to move, weighed down with the memories of what it meant to be alive. 

Those are the bad days, but his questions make them just a little easier.

"How do you move around? Do you just float everywhere?" Walking, but different. No weight. Soft.

"How are you able to manipulate things in my world? Are they different from things in your world?" Focus. Takes time. Same.

"Do you sleep at all? Do ghosts dream?" No sleep. Just existing.

"You don't eat, do you? Should I be stocking up on snacks for you?" No. Save your sustenance. "What was the last thing you ate?" Don't remember. "Huh. I hope it was something good." Same.

"Were you ever in a relationship?" Once. A long time before. "Do you miss them?" Not anymore.

"What did you do while you were alive?" School. "Oh, really? Do you remember what you studied?" Boring. Important then, but it made me forget to live. Not important now. Namjoon goes quiet for a long moment after this one, staring out the window at something you can't see. He nods but doesn't ask any more questions, and he reads for the rest of the night.

It only takes a couple of weeks for both you and Namjoon to get tired of standing in his kitchen fucking around on the fridge. His legs get tired and he gets distracted by his thoughts, and you can barely keep up with the rapid-fire questions you get.

So Namjoon buys one of those cheap cookie sheets with the slightest lip at the edge and dumps the magnets on that. He leaves it on the coffee table, usually, there for you to pick up if he asks something but out of the way for when he stretches out to nap lazily in the afternoon sun.

You like the cookie sheet more than the fridge. He watches you as you work out your responses, can see the way you start to move one word before moving another instead; it makes it feel more like a conversation.

It becomes a favorite pass-time of Namjoon's, curling on the couch and putting some sort of music on in the background and just talking to you. A lot of nights his questions stop with a lingering silence from one or both of you; yours because you don't have the ability to share the words running rampant through your mind, and his for reasons still unknown to you. Still, you've missed it. You've missed talking to someone, being heard when you speak, having someone ask how you are at the end of the day.

It's the little things.

"You said you can't leave, right, Casper?" Namjoon's curled up on his couch, tucked into the arm with a blanket thrown over his lap, a mug of something warm in his hands to combat the chill of the season, and some R&B track playing lightly from his phone. You knock your fist against the cookie once - a sign for yes that you'd both agreed on. "So, are you just always here then? You don't go anywhere else?"

"Fuck, how do I explain this?" You mutter. You stare at the magnets in front of you for a long time before rearranging them. Not always. Tired sometimes, disappear.

"Disappear?" He reads. "What do you mean? You just, what, stop existing?"

Don't know, you respond. Only happens when tired. When used too much of me. He hums an acknowledgment, eyes focused on where the cookie sheet sits on the couch between you. You? What entertains you?

"Everything," he answers without hesitation. "I'm trying to work through my stack of books I want to read and finish all the shows I'm interested in, but the guys would have my head if I didn't get out and do things like a normal person."

That's where you leave to?

"Yeah." He sets his mug - now empty - on the coffee table and settles into the blankets. He looks cozy and soft and you would wrap yourself up with him if you could. "I take a lot of walks, and bike rides. I like to see the river, the trees, all the animals that live there. The beach is always fun, I get to see all the crabs and whatnot that wander in and out of the ocean."

"I wish I could go with you," you whisper.

Fun is what you spell on your sheet.

"I guess," he mutters. "It's enjoyable, at least. I'll bring you some souvenirs, or pictures next time."

You let the sheet settle on the couch as he turns the TV on, setting up a drama that he's on recently. He doesn't say anything else for a few hours, waits until the sound of rain hits the windows and stifles the apartment in an otherworldly haze.

"How long have you been dead?" His voice lingers in the air. You've been expecting these questions, and you're honestly impressed he's held them back for as long as he has. That angsty teen hadn't hesitated a single second to start asking you questions.

A while. Years. I think .

"Do you ever get tired of being a ghost?" There's something in his voice that you can't place, something that tells you this is more than just his usual morbid curiosity. Every part of your soul - whatever's left of it, anyway - is screaming at you to lie to him, to tell him that no, being a ghost is great. You've never wished he could hear you more than this moment, when all you want to is wrap your arms around him and ask him why he looks so much older than he is.

Sometimes, you tell him. It is lonely here, and boring. Fun to be unseen, but unable to do much more.

He nods like that makes all the sense in the world to him, and he brings the blanket up around his shoulders. "Do you ever miss your friends, or your family?"

Would you not? He huffs out an unamused chuckle, nodding again.

"Yeah," He says softly. "Yeah, I would. Do you want me to help you check on them? See what they're up to?" The single knock that echoes in the room is deafening to you, filled with a hope that you haven't felt in years. You've never let yourself think about them for long; if you did, you don't think you'd be able to come back from whatever that place is that you disappear to when things become Too Much.

Namjoon pulls his phone closer and starts fiddling with it. He doesn't hesitate when he types in your name, and you feel an emotional blush fill you when you see that he doesn't even have to finish typing for your profile to pop up. You glance at him, the way his brows are furrowed behind his glasses and his tongue pokes into his cheek just a little while he concentrates, and you wonder how many times he's looked at the pictures of you when you were alive. How many times has he scrolled through, reading the words people shared after you were gone, scrolling through the grief and loss to get to the words you posted yourself, the little snippets of your daily life that you would give anything to be able to relive?

"Do I still look like that?" You wonder aloud. As expected, he doesn't react, just continues tapping at his phone.

You two spend the rest of the night like that, each curled at opposite ends of the couch while Namjoon slowly looks up your friends and family and updates you on each of them. Jihyo got married, to someone she'd gone on a date with a few weeks before you passed, and she's apparently trying to start having kids; Your mother and father aren't very active, but they never were. They both share pictures of you when you were a baby each year on your birthday, and more recent photos of you on the anniversary. They have a dog now. It's cute. You wonder if it helps them cope with the loss.

Your other friends are doing well, too; most of them are still figuring out their lives, but it seems like all of them are settling in their skin and finding comfort in who they are. They're out there, navigating the world and doing things they enjoy, meeting new friends and making new memories.

You stand by the window for a long time, cookie sheet of magnetized words pressed against your chest as if you can feel the cool of the metal against your skin, and watch rain drip down the panes as you imagine what your life could have been.

You can always hear Namjoon before you see him. He whistles as he walks down the sidewalk, his small way of letting you know he's on his way back from wherever he's gone that day, and today isn't an exception. Relief sags through you and you move away from the windows, let your fingers trail against the ceramic of the newest succulent he'd bought, and head towards the kitchen. The kettle is turned on and heating a few moments later while you pull a mug down from your cabinet and set it carefully on the counter where Namjoon will see it.

It's a regular routine, for the two of you. He heads out, usually in the early morning after turning on some music or a show for you, and when he comes back, you make sure there's hot water for his tea or cocoa or whatever he feels like drinking that day. The sound of his whistling gets louder the closer he gets, a simple way to let you know he's safe and he's home. You glance through the cabinets and quickly make a note on the fridge that he needs to buy more of his special tea blend soon.

The lock turns and you smile, waiting patiently as Namjoon saunters into the apartment. He sets something down on the kitchen counter just as the kettle starts to scream, and you wait while he pours the water and gets it ready.

"The cherry blossoms bloomed," He says. You grin. "They look great. I got some really nice pictures while I was there, I'll show you tonight. I was thinking we could try to finish Voltron tonight if you want. We'll have to go back an episode though, I think I fell asleep during the last one." You knock once against the counter beside you, and he turns with a wide grin to glance at the spot where you stand.

It's ridiculous for your heart to speed up in your chest, for the hair on the back of your neck to rise, for breath to catch in your throat; you don't have a heartbeat, you don't have breath, you're a shadow of the person you used to be, and yet...

And yet, seeing his dimpled smile focused so naturally on where you are, as if it's just second-nature, is like a breath of fresh air after years underwater. It smells like flowers, like dirt and earth and a new beginning. It feels like you're alive again, and you don't want it to end, but too soon he's turning away to finish steeping the tea. Something lingers in the air for a moment after but it's gone too soon for you to place it.

You both settle on the couch, Namjoon tucking whatever he brought home with him under his arm, between his body and the arm of his ratty old couch. Your cookie sheet is in its place on the coffee table, unneeded at the moment. You can't help the glare that you give it; the things you would give to be able to just speak and be heard are endless.

It rattles a little and you look away.

Namjoon is quiet as the show plays. He doesn't react when you move to turn the oven on, but he does laugh quietly and thank you for it when he goes to put his dinner in. He eats and you don't bother him, though the way he keeps his little package hidden away makes curiosity burn through you. Eventually, once he's eaten and washed his dishes and laughed at the way you rubbed them dry before setting them carefully in their places, he settles back into his blankets and turns on the music he loves so much.

He's got a book balanced in his hands and your cookie sheet rests on the coffee table, and you both just sit like that for a long while, enjoying existing.

"You remember your life, right Casper?" You thump lazily against the wall in response, eyes drawn from where you watch the gloomy sky slowly get lighter with the dawn. He isn't looking at his book anymore; he probably hasn't been for a while, based on the way the pages have migrated around his thumb, too busy staring at the wall across from him. "Do you remember your death?"

You hesitate. You've tiptoed around the subject before. He's always been too afraid to ask directly, and it's too painful for you to offer it freely. You thump against the wall once more, and he nods like he already knew the answer.

"Are they very different?" His glasses are falling down his nose and your fingers itch to push them up. Instead, you reach for your cookie sheet. He makes a sound in the back of his throat when he sees it moving, reaching under him for his package. "I forgot, I got you this. Thought it might be easier."

He sets it down and you slide the contents out of the wrapping easily. Inside is a small dry-erase board, complete with markers and eraser, small things that should be easy for you to manipulate. You beam at him; he can't see it, but you think he might be able to feel it because he perks up and smiles a little.

"You don't have to answer," He adds. "I was just curious to know if being dead is really as different as everyone makes it out to be." You nod and thump once against the board before you uncap a marker and start writing.

It's a bizarre feeling, after so long. The muscles in your hand don't ache, no matter how much you write, and you can't feel the smooth surface of the board under your fingers or the weight of the marker in your palm, but it glides against it cleanly and leaves a thick black streak behind.

It takes you a minute to write everything out, get it worded how you want. Namjoon doesn't interrupt you, just watches the marker move against the board and smiles every time you go to erase something that isn't right. Eventually you show it to him.

There are similarities. I'm still me, I still enjoy TV and music and books. Things are duller now, like there's a filter over them, and it's harder to do things. Like when you're in water, or mud, like that. Resistance.

"Oh," Namjoon replies, "That's not what I expected. It makes sense though I guess." His hand moves against his chest, rubbing lightly as he looks over your words again. "Is there anything you actually like about being a ghost?"

"Well, being invisible is pretty cool," You say, writing the words as you do. "And it's actually really fun being able to walk through walls and stuff, even if I can't go anywhere outside of the apartment."

"I'm sorry you're stuck here," Namjoon says. You startle a little, looking up at him. You think he actually heard you for a split second, but his eyes are locked on where you're writing your words out on the dry erase board.

"Yeah, me too," You tell him. He stares at the board for a long moment, chewing nervously on his bottom lip as he does. "Ask what you want to ask, Joon," You write as you say it.

"How did you die?" He blurts. You sigh and he jumps a little, looking fully at where you sit. You're shocked; you know that sometimes little noises cross over, like when Jin heard you laughing, but it's still rare. You can't figure out how it works, but you want to.

You write for a long time, letters small so they fit on the board. The whole thing is crowded together, looks like one long string of letters instead of the story it is.

There's a lot of violence in this neighborhood. You probably know that by now. People are always getting robbed or mugged or something around here. Someone tried to break into my apartment by banging the door down. It didn't work, luckily, but I got really paranoid afterwards. One night I was cooking, and someone's door slammed really hard. I spilled the water I was boiling, slipped. Blacked out after a while, and when I came to, there were police everywhere. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought, because they carted me away, and I couldn’t follow.

"I'm sorry," Namjoon says softly. "You deserved more time."

Yeah. The universe had a different plan, I guess. He smiles at that, and it settles the anxiety thrumming under your skin. Wouldn't have met you, so I guess that's a bonus. He rolls his eyes at you but he laughs softly, so you consider it a win. You doodle on the board then, simple little designs that don't mean anything beyond being able to see your effect on the world.

Namjoon sucks in a breath beside you and you look up at him. He's always been good about looking towards where you are, doing his best to make eye contact with someone he can't see, but he still always tends to look through you.

Not this time.

This time, electricity sings through the air as your eyes meet his. You don't know how, but you know he can see you. His eyes roam over you, taking in the crumpled sweater you were wearing with the stain you like to think is pasta sauce on the arm, the hair you can't ever really tame, the way you sit cross-legged on his old thread-bare couch with a dry erase board in your hands.

Neither of you moves. He looks torn between fear and amazement, every emotion in between flitting quickly over his features, and you're terrified that if you move, whatever spell that's been cast will fade. It had been so long since you talked to anyone when Namjoon slammed those magnets on the fridge, and the conversation has been a reprieve, but to be seen for the first time in years...

It's invigorating.

Watching Namjoon just look at you is something you won't ever forget, not for as long as you exist in the world. He looks at you like he's memorizing every detail, every hair and wrinkle and pore, and just knowing that he can see you fills you with something new.

"Namjoon...?" You call hesitantly. His eyes fall on your lips.

"Again," He says. Your brows must furrow, maybe you frown, you don't know because it's been so long since you've needed to pay attention to your facial expressions, but he notices your confusion. "Will you say something again?"

Breath you don't have catches in your throat, wraps itself around a heart that doesn't beat, but you smile a little. "I'm glad I met you."

Namjoon smiles. It's big and blinding and knocks everything out of you except for that emotion that's been sitting in your chest since the first time you watched him talk to his plants. You lean forward, and you can tell the exact moment you disappear, because his smile falls and his eyes unfocus. A whimper leaves your throat, but he doesn't react, and that may be the most painful thing that's ever happened to you.

"Can I feel you?" His voice is hushed but the words reverberate in your head. His eyes dart around, looking for any glimpse of you, and your hand trembles as you reach out.

Goosebumps raise on his cheek where your hand touches him and his breath stops for a moment, but he smiles again and leans into the chill. You bring your other hand up to cup his other cheek, your dry erase board lying forgotten on the ground, and Namjoon's eyes flutter closed.

"I think I might love you," You say quietly just before you press your lips to his. He doesn't react to your words, but he lets out a soft sigh at your kiss. Thunder cracks through the apartment, a torrent of rain unleashed on the windows, but you don't move.

The two of you sit like that for hours, until he starts shivering and his nose turns red, like it does when he forgets his scarf on the cold days, and his breath puffs in the air. When you finally pull away from him, he smiles, and the blush on his cheeks has nothing to do with the cold air that makes up your form.

"Yeah," He says softly, voice nearly drowned out by the storm raging outside. "Yeah, I can feel you."

If you expected things to change much after that, you were wrong. At least a little. Namjoon still disappears to go on his walks, you still start the kettle the second his whistles drift up to the apartment. He still asks you a million questions, but they're more normal now. Your favorite music, color, what you wished you'd done with your life, if you've been able to corporealize again recently, what you wanted to watch that night.

"Come on, Casper," Namjoon groans. "I promise you can do it." You huff and he smiles, clearly having heard it. You're tempted to just disappear somewhere, rattle some pipes in the bathroom or the kitchen so he thinks you're in there and leaves you alone, but he smiles at you again and you're weak for that dimple.

You grip the watering can again, doing your best to lift it and manipulate it the way you need to. It's heavy, and something about the metal makes your skin itch, but the more you struggle the more you're able to pour the slightest bit of water where RJ - a giant plant that you don't even know the name of - sits in the corner of the room across from Namjoon's bed. It's the twentieth-something time you've tried this today, and you're ten seconds from just giving up completely, but you can tell this is important to Namjoon.

He's been talking all week, between the late nights where you lay over his blanket-wrapped form and the mornings where he ducks out with a soft goodbye. He's told you everything about his plants that you think he possibly could, teaching you about them and showing you how to care for them. It's interesting, you won't lie, and it's always fun to see him light up when you recall something he's told you, but you're exhausted and every part of you is shaky, and you're more than a little worried of what might happen if you push too far again.

Still, Joon hasn't looked great lately, like he might be getting the flu, and you want to be able to help him with all the things he does in the house. You've already started doing the dishes and folding laundry, since those were the two things he was the absolute worst at, but you feel like you should be doing more.

"Good job, baby, I'm proud of you!" You grunt and let the watering can fall back to the ground with a loud thump that almost definitely has the downstairs neighbors cursing Namjoon's name. "See, and now we're done for the day! C'mon, we can put on Sens8 and cuddle."

He's on the couch before you can stop him, wrapping himself in blankets except for one lone hand that sticks out, expectant. You roll your eyes and sit beside him, close enough that if you had a body you would be cuddling instead of just sitting awkwardly beside him.

You know that this is just going to make your hand all pink and gross, right?

He just smiles when the board flips around to reveal itself and wiggles his fingers. "It's worth it," He says. "I'd rather be pink and gross than never get to hold your hand at all."

You can't even feel my hand, Joon, there's literally no point to this. He huffs and wraps his hand around the marker in your hand, shivering at the chill that runs through him when he does. He grins and gestures down to where the tips of his fingers are already turning red.

"Clearly I can feel it, Casper."

You're glad he can't see you, that you don't have a heart that beats or blood that runs, because if you did, your face would no doubt be red. You have no doubts that Namjoon would tease you about it.

He's quiet as you both watch the show; he makes the odd comment here or there, but his mood seems to have calmed some. When he first got back from whatever place he visited that day, he'd been anxious and jumpy and entirely too on edge.

"Hey, Casper?" He asks quietly. You slide a hand against his cheek to let him know you're there, and he leans into the chill again. "What do you think about me?"

You don't move for several seconds, hand still poised around his cheek.

"Like, your feelings. What are they? Will you tell me?" You knock once on the wall behind the couch. Your hand stays poised over your board for long enough that Namjoon starts to get a little restless. Words refuse to come to you. Every time you start to think you have a way to describe to him what he means to you, they disappear as quick as fog on a summer's afternoon. Frustrated, you let the board fall to the couch and scrawl a quick 'hold on' so he knows you aren't just ignoring him.

It's been weeks since you've seen what you're looking for, your cookie sheet with the word magnets having been basically forgotten in lieu of the more personal and convenient dry-erase board, but right now you know that if words won't come to you, you'll have to go to them.

You finally find it, shoved under several encyclopedias and magazines, and the noise you make is so triumphant that even Namjoon hears it. You curl back up beside him, careful to make sure the blanket is wrapped tight around him, and make sure he can see the words as you move them. It still takes a long time, constantly changing and rearranging and stacking to make sure it conveys the things you need it to convey.

You are like music. A symphony of summer days and peach skies with soft rain. You are a storm in the moonlight. I'm not lonely when I have you pouring around me. You make me feel alive again.

Namjoon is silent for a long time, and you wonder if you've gone too far. It's more poetic than you'd like, too frilly and fancy and emotional than you usually are, but they're the only words you have.

After too long, he exhales. It's heavy and deep and it feels like he's trying to expel more than just air from his body.

"You make me feel alive, too," is all he says, whispered into the softness of his blanket in a voice too small for his long limbs. He shivers, and you hear him choke down a cough, and then he disappears into the bathroom for a long time. When he comes back out, he doesn't say anything, just slides into the mass of blankets on his bed and lays his arm out across the mattress. You spread out across from him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he looks through you and out the window where the rain is letting up.

"Looks like the rainy season is gonna last longer than everyone thought." You slide your hands around one of his large ones and just hold them like that. His eyes sink closed and something like relief stands on his face for a moment before it's gone, swept away by the peace of sleep.

You wonder what it is that he sees when he looks out the window. If it's the plain brick wall and windows of the building next door, or something more.

You aren't sure you want to know.

Namjoon's flu only seems to get worse. He leaves early in the mornings, as if he thinks you might not notice the way he coughs into his scarf just because the sun hasn't risen fully yet. He stays gone most of the days, and even when he apologizes quietly during the twilight when he slinks back in to the sound of the kettle screeching on the stove and his tea already waiting to be steeped, he still doesn't stop.

You've taken to playing blues while he's gone, mostly the old school stuff, digging out the vintage record player he has buried in the closet and setting it up on the coffee table. It’s the only technology you can use without shorting it out. You don’t know why, but it makes you grateful the record collection Namjoon keeps tucked away inside the coffee table that you’ve learned is in fact an actual steamer trunk that he salvaged and restored himself.

The music fills the apartment, distracts you from the oppressive weight of his absence. He knows you wait at the window for him, you told him that back when the two of you were first getting to know each other.

You're so fragile, you had told him. He had laughed at you, quiet and fond, and waited for you to explain further. You're so full of life and breath and possibility, and the world is so big and so dangerous. I'm scared you won't come back.

"Of course I'm going to come back," he told you. You didn't even need to tell him that you're afraid of what being alone might do to you, now that you're so used to his presence. You're being heard again, sometimes even seen, and you don't know if you can go back to the stagnant depression of solitude. "I'll always come back to you."

That was the first time you thought you might love Namjoon. The feeling has only gotten stronger, and now that you wait at the window with your eyes focused on that tiny section of sidewalk you can see at the end of the alley, it threatens to consume you whole.

You wait at the window for hours. You know because you glance at the clock every minute and a half, mocking you with every tick as it hangs limply on the bathroom door. The sun sinks below the horizon, the moon rises to take its place, and they switch again while you wait. The dawn paints the sky in beautiful shades of pink and red and orange and the faintest purple, but you can't appreciate any of it, because you're too anxious.

He could be hurt. He could be gone, and you wouldn't ever know until his friends came to pack his things. He could have left, too; maybe he finally decided that living with a ghost was just too much for him and just ran. Maybe he figured out that you love him, that you would move heaven and earth if it meant he was safe forever if only you could leave this apartment, and it was too much for him.

What if he knows about how you lay beside him every night? How you tuck the blankets tighter around him, cover him in warmth and comfort before settling on top of them and closing your eyes and pretending that you can feel his arm draped over your waist and his breath on the back of your neck. What if he felt you, that night you wandered into the bathroom while he was showering to write on the steam-covered mirror that he needs to buy more eggs soon and got distracted by the way he looked stepping out of the shower? What if he knows your stomach flipped at the long limbs and the hidden muscles and the sheer size of him? What if he knows the real reason you were quiet that night, the way you kept replaying the moment in your mind and wishing you had a body so you could have just touched him, at least.

It's closer to noon than midnight when his whistle echoes up through the window.

"Hey, I'm home," He calls as he enters the empty apartment. You're upset, but you're more filled with relief than anything because at least he's safe and he's here now. He makes a beeline for where the kettle is just starting to whistle, already reaching for the honey and the tea you set out on the counter for him, and you do your best to calm the storm of emotions inside you.

Did you have fun, wherever you were? You ask him, floating the whiteboard in front of his face so he has to acknowledge it.

"Yeah, I did," he responds as he stirs his tea. "Jin invited everyone over for some end of summer thing. I didn't feel too great at the end of it, so I just spent the night there."

Don't party too hard, you might remember how to have fun, you joke. It falls a little flat based on the grim smile Namjoon gives you. Are they gonna come over here again anytime soon? I've missed scaring Hoseok.

He lets out a real laugh at that. "I don't know, maybe. My birthday's coming up, after Jeongguk's, so they could definitely be planning something. I'm heading over to Yoongi's later to help plan for Guk's party. I might stay there tonight, so try not to worry, Casper."

I'll try, you tell him. You both know you'll stand at the window every second he's gone, but you don't want to tell him why. You don't want to tell him that you love him through a dry erase board, or some fancy poetry magnets. It doesn't matter that you may as well have already said so by telling him that he makes you feel alive again; you haven't said the words to him, he hasn't seen 'I love you' in the messy scrawl that is your handwriting on some stupid board, and therefore he doesn't know.

You don't know if you want him to.

He stays gone that night, as he said he might, and reappears the next day to shower and change before he vanishes again. The next time he shows up, he takes a bag with him when he leaves, which only worsens your fears. He stays gone for three days this time, doesn't apologize when he turns up again and just mumbles a soft hello into the air before he makes tea and sags into his couch. He's asleep in seconds, and as much as you want to scream at him, you can't bring yourself to disrupt how peaceful he looks.

When he wakes, he takes a shower and ignores the ' can we talk ' you scrawled in the steam. He packs a bag of fresh clothes and doesn't say goodbye when he leaves, just disappears and leaves you standing at the window with the pail in your hand, caring for the plants he isn't. The slam of the door sounds like nails in a coffin and breaks what little was left of your soul.

He shows back up nearly a week later, and the relief at seeing him again is overridden by the sheer anger at being left in the first place. You don't start the kettle when you hear his whistle, the quiet and hoarse tune of a familiar song barely reaching the window, but there's plenty of noise when he enters.

The cabinet doors are quaking with your fury, the lights flicker and threaten to burst, and Namjoon just leans back against the door. He’s soaked from the storm thundering outside, even his jacket plastered to his skin, and he’s shivering slightly, but you can’t see anything past the rage.

"Where the fuck were you?" You demand; there's no point, it's not like he can hear you, but the way he sighs makes you feel like he can, so you continue anyway. "It's been almost a week, you didn't even think to stop by for ten seconds so I know you're okay? I thought you were dead somewhere, you could've been, like, shot, or something, I don't know, just bleeding out in some ditch, and I wouldn't know! And what about all the plants? I know how to take care of them, sure, but do you know how hard it is for me to do it?"

Namjoon sighs again, the breath catching in his throat and coming out in a cough, but you don't pay much attention to it.

"Why would you act like this, Namjoon? What did I do, is it because of the things I said? Do you not want me to feel like this about you? Because this a damn good way of making sure I don't, I assure you, so by all means, just keep disappearing and leave me alone with the plants you decided to rescue and save!"

His cough gets worse and he just shakes his head, covering his mouth and making his way towards the bathroom.

"If you want me to hate you, it's too fucking late, Joon!" The slam of the bathroom door punctuates your sentence, and you quiet at the sound of continued coughing. You knew his flu was getting worse, but it's never sounded like that. Even when you were alive, you knew that the wet sound that's muffled by the bathroom door isn't what a cough should sound like. The lock of the door clicks, and it shocks you into movement because he's never - never - locked you out of anywhere. He knows it wouldn't stop you, knows it as well as you know that you'd respect that boundary if he set it, and yet here he is, locking you out even as he coughs up what sounds like a lung in the other room.

You hesitate at the door, torn between respecting his boundaries and knowing what’s happening. You want him to trust you, always, and yet you find your hand disappearing through the door before you can stop it. You stand like that for a long moment, just listening to the sounds of his wracking coughs; the sound of a crash echoes through the apartment, though, and you’re through the door completely in the span of a heartbeat. 

Nearly everything that had been on the counter is scattered on the ground, Namjoon himself gripping the sides of the toilet as if he would fall apart otherwise. A single glance tells you that the crash happened as he turned from the sink to the toilet, and if his jolting shoulders didn’t tell you why, the sounds of his retching would. That isn’t what fills you with dread though; the disorientation, the vomiting, all of it comes with being sick sometimes, but the red staining the bathroom sink? 

That’s not normal, and you know with every part of you that it’s the reason he’s been gone so much. 

The temperature in the apartment drops with the sun, but your arms surround Namjoon as best they can. Goosebumps break out on his arms, shivers run down his back, but you don’t move away from him; he doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his forehead pressed against the cool of the porcelain. He stands eventually, ignores the way he passes completely through your body to rinse the sink and brush his teeth. 

You let him stay quiet until you’re both on his bed; you’re pressed up against his side and running your hands along his forearms, idly wondering if you would be able to feel his heartbeat if you were alive. 

“It’s not...it’s not gonna get better,” He says eventually. “There’s not a cure, just some things to draw it out and give me a little bit longer even if they come with more pain. I go once a week to see if it’s gotten worse, check how much longer I have. It’s why Hobi let me move in here rent-free. He pays the bills, says it’s the least he can do. I wanted to be closer to him anyway, so that’s a bonus, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Joon,” you whisper. Your board lies forgotten, somewhere on the couch maybe, you aren’t sure and can’t be bothered to pull yourself away from him long enough to find it. You don’t need it right now, though; he knows what you mean by the way the cold presses against his bicep with your palm. 

“I didn’t want you to know.” You’re not exactly surprised at that; you’d figured as much. You just don’t understand his reasoning. “I didn’t want you worrying about me, or anything like that, like the guys do. They always look at me and it’s all they can see. Like they’re already mourning me, even though I’m still here. I didn’t want to feel like that with you.” 

“I know,” you say. You don’t, not really. Your own death was sudden, a shock to everyone you knew; you didn’t get the luxury of saying goodbye, didn’t have the burden of knowing you would be gone soon. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, until you can feel Namjoon’s chest quivering under your palm. When you look up, he looks at you, really and truly at you , and he has tears in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to die, Casper,” He whispers. You suck in a breath because he can see you, and you don’t even know why, but you don’t want to lose this moment. “I don’t want to leave all of this behind. I don’t want to leave you.” 

“It’ll be okay,” you say softly. His brow furrows and a tear slides down his cheek. “I promise you it will be okay, Namjoon. It gets easier, and people remember but they aren’t stuck forever. And I…” You falter, and it takes his eyes meeting yours to make you realize he can hear you. And there’s only one thing you’ve ever needed him to hear. 

“I love you,” You tell him. “I love you, and I will never forget you.” 

He surges forward, lips meeting yours in a rush of air. You moan at the feeling of him against you, realizing that for the first time since you died, you can feel something under your fingers. His skin is warm against your fingers, his lips soft against your own, and when he reaches up to cup your jaw with his hand, he doesn’t pass through your form. Instead his hand settles heavy against you, and he moves your head to lick into your mouth. 

Tears that won’t fall prickle at the back of your eyes and you climb into his lap before he can stop you. He’s still crying so you wipe away the tears before they can fall, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his dimples, his nose, every bit you can reach. A question sits at the back of your mind, and you can see it lingering in his eyes, but neither of you asks it.

“You’re so cold.” His whisper is nearly lost amidst the thunder that shakes the apartment, but it makes you smile a little. 

“Warm me up?” 

His chest is still quivering with unspoken sobs, but he nods. “Always,” he tells you. “I’m always going to be here.” It doesn’t take long to pry him out of his clothes, takes even less time for him to sink into you. It feels just like it did when you were alive, only magnified; you can feel him hot and warm inside you, can feel the beat of his heart in the firm muscle under your hands. His moans are quiet and hoarse but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He keeps one hand on your waist and the other on your neck, holding you close enough that he can kiss whenever he wants. “You’re beautiful,” He whispers. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” You just press another kiss to his chapped lips and let him dig his fingers in hard enough that it would bruise if it could. When he’s close to his peak, he stops thrusting, just sits inside you as he grinds your hips down to his, and presses his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” He tells you, lightning casting his shadow across the wall for a brief moment. “I love you, I do, I wish-”

“I know,” you tell him before he can continue. “I know, Namjoon, I know, and I do, too. I love you, too.” He comes a few seconds later, the warm seed soaking into his sheets because it has nowhere to go. His warmth disappears from under your hands and his arms fall to his lap when the only thing holding them up is gone. All you can hear is your quiet sobs mixed with his and the rain against the window, and for the first time since you came back, you really, truly, wish you had died. There’s no point in being a ghost when you can still feel your heart breaking in your chest. 

“Casper, are you ever scared?” 

It’s the middle of the afternoon. Namjoon is sprawled across the couch wrapped in blankets while Lucifer plays in the background and you doodle aimlessly on your board. You don’t need it as often now; you’ve gotten better at focusing your energy into being heard, though being corporeal still eludes you. You don’t know how you did it that night, but you’re grateful for it. 

“Of what?” You ask, looking towards him. He’s not looking at you or watching the show, just staring at the ceiling. He focuses at your words, lifts himself up into a sitting position. A shiver runs through him when his legs move through you, and you settle a weightless hand against his knee out of habit. 

“I don’t know,” He replies. “Just...whatever comes next. If there’s something that comes next. Being forgotten. Being stuck here forever.” 

You aren’t stupid; you know why he’s asking. The question lingers in the air, colors all of your conversations now, but the truth is that neither of you has the strength to ask it and neither of you knows the answer. 

“Sometimes,” You tell him. “Sometimes I wonder what Jihyo is doing, if she ever had a baby like she wanted to. I wonder if my parents are still alive, and what they say if they visit my grave, what they tell me now that I can’t respond to them.” 

Namjoon nods like he’s already thought of that, and he probably has. 

“Most of the time I try not to focus on it, though. It’s not helpful, it only upsets me, and I don’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to word your thoughts. “I don’t know what might happen if I only focus on the negative. I don’t know anything about what’s true about ghosts and what isn’t beyond that I exist now, and I can’t risk becoming something bad. So I try not to focus on it. It’s easier when you’re here.”

He grins and blows a kiss in your general direction, and you pretend not to notice the blood on his cracked lips. He’s quiet for the rest of the episode of half of another. 

“Have you ever seen a light?” 

“What?” He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you repeat your question on your board for him. 

“A light,” He echoes. “Like, the light.Y’know, the light at the end of the tunnel, ‘don’t go into the light,’ that thing.” 

You hesitate at that. You knew what he meant, what he actually wants to know here. He’s easier to read now than he was in the beginning. 

You watch him as he watches the space where you sit, curled up beside him on his couch. He can’t see you, of course, but he can see where the board rests in your hands. His gaze is heavier than it was when he first moved in; his cheeks are hollower, skin more gaunt with a grey tint that’s only made worse by the constant rain. The sun is just starting to break through the clouds, a brief reprieve after weeks of the dreary stone-colored clouds. It casts shadows along the walls, reflects off something in the window across the alley, and backlights Namjoon beautifully, casts a halo of light around the brittle brown hair you love. 

Once, you tell him. Just once.

“Why didn’t you go to it?” 

There are so many things you could tell him, so many different ways to answer such a simple question, but you find yourself lingering on the one thing you know is the ultimate truth. 

Because I love you.

September comes with even more rain and a bittersweet atmosphere. Jeongguk spends his birthday at Namjoon’s apartment and then comes back a little over a week later, surrounded by the other guys and carrying enough food to last a few months. You stay curled on the bed, one of the only safe places for you to not mess with anyone or anything. Your board is tucked into the blankets, ready to be used but hidden from view just in case. You watch as Namjoon sits on the couch, tucked between Taehyung and Yoongi with both of them leaning into him as much as possible, Yoongi’s hands wrapped in one of his and Tae’s head on his shoulder. 

The other’s aren’t far, leaning against the back of the couch and on beanbags they’d brought with them, all laughing as Hoseok does his best to act out whatever he’d been given in charades. He’s not bad at it - you’ve guessed the last few he’s done - but he is utterly ridiculous in his mannerisms. You know why; it’s the same reason everyone kept smiling when Namjoon refused all of the food he was offered, why Seokjin would crack a terrible joke whenever it got too quiet for too long, why everyone is resolutely ignoring the growing pile of tissues on the table. 

It keeps a smile on Namjoon’s face, though, and a laugh in his eyes, and you can’t ever be anything but grateful for that. 

Hoseok stumbles, nearly falling and whirling his arms to catch himself before eventually falling anyway. You laugh along with the others, grinning at the way Hobi pouts and rubs at his hip. You’re focused on the way Joon laughs, the way it lights up his face and brightens the entire room, which is why you see it first. 

The tickle at the back of his throat quickly becomes a cough, wet and wheezing and enough to make him throw the blankets from his lap and stumble to the bathroom. 

You’re there before he is, helping him slide the door closed and locking it behind him as he bends over the toilet again. The six of them are quiet in the main room, speaking in hushed whispers that neither you nor Namjoon wants to hear. You turn the knob on the sink, wetting a towel while you drown out the sound of voices, and letting a hand run over Namjoon’s back. 

“I’m okay,” he mutters. You ignore the way his voice shakes, the way his lips are redder than before, the way this happens more often than before. Instead, you just press the damp rag to his neck and watch his eyes close in relief. When he stands and flushes the evidence away, you already have his toothbrush ready and waiting, and you stay as close to him as you can until he takes a deep breath. 

“I’m okay,” He repeats. “I’m okay. It’s my birthday, and I’m okay.” 

He goes back out with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice, teasing Hoseok about the way he fell and reenacting it, even. When he settles on the couch, he urges the others to continue the game. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Jimin declares that he’s next and pulls something from the bowl on the table. 

You know you aren’t the only one that notices the way Namjoon’s eyes linger on the six men around him, but you are the only one that notices the way they also linger on his steamer trunk, the shelf with his books, the TV, the record player, the scrapbook of his life that they all worked on and Taehyung pieced together over the months, the plants on the wall that he had cared for. He looks around his apartment as if he’s looking at it for the last time. 

As if he’s already planning who’s going to get what. 

He finally asks the question you both have been thinking about, nearly two months later. His breathing comes in ragged pants, his lips stay chapped, and he keeps several blankets around him at all times to try to hide the shaking of his body. Your soft sobs echo through the apartment constantly; while you reheat the tea he doesn’t drink for the millionth time, while you quietly water and prune the plants he’s saved from death the way you wish you could save him, while you sit curled around him as he sleeps, soothing his coughs with quiet whispers. 

Night has just begun to fall, the rain of the day turning into a soft drizzle, and you stare at him blankly, unsure how to process what you’ve just heard. 

“Do you think I’ll come back?” He asks again, slightly louder. As if you hadn’t heard his shaky voice the first time. It’s not the question that floors you. You’ve been expecting this for weeks, months even. You’ve wondered it yourself as you prepare tea and ignore the sounds of him vomiting blood in the bathroom, as he disappears to the hospital and returns with a worse prognosis than before, as you’ve adjusted to the idea that you are dead and he is dying and you cannot do anything to help him. 

You never would have expected the hope that his words carry though. 

“Why does it sound like you want to?” You ask. Your voice is clear in the air and you’re glad for it, because this isn’t something you want to talk about through your board. 

“Because I do?” His response is delayed and sounds more like a question than a real answer. 

“Why?!” You demand. 

“Are you serious, Casper?” His brow is furrowed as he sits up and lets the blankets fall away to sit haphazardly off the couch. 

“Are you? Joon, why would you want to come back?”

“You’re seriously asking me that question? Why would I not? I’ve got so much I still want to do, I never thought I’d get the chance to after I got the diagnosis and now I might be able to. Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that! You don’t get to just wander the world and fuck around, Joon, you’re dead.”

“Yeah, but you can still read and write and everything. I’d have all the time in the world to read the books I want to read, watch the shows I want to watch, write the music and stories and lyrics that I want to write.”

“Yeah, so long as it all stays in this apartment!” The light in the room flickers slightly with the force of your irritation. “You can’t do anything that isn’t in this room, Namjoon, you can’t use any of the electronics, you can’t read a book unless it’s here, you can’t write music unless it’s on actual paper, you can’t do anything.” 

“Yeah, and I could make that work. Why are you so upset about this? I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy? You think I’d be happy that you’d be stuck in these four walls forever, too? Why would that make me happy?” Namjoon stands, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. 

“Because I’d be with you! We’d be together, forever! Do you not want to be with me?”

“Of course I want to be with you, Joon, but not at the cost of you being stuck here. I don’t want that for anyone, certainly not the man I love.”

“And what if that’s what I want? What if I want to spend the rest of time with you? I’m already spending the rest of my life with you, I’m in love with you, I don’t want to leave you.”

“And I don’t want you to go, but Joon, why would I want you stuck here, too? This isn’t something fun. This isn’t anything that I enjoy.”

“Oh, so you regret it all then?”

“I didn’t say that, I just don’t want you to be stuck in a shitty studio apartment for who knows how long when you can’t fucking do half of the things you love! You wouldn’t go on walks, Namjoon, you wouldn’t go with Guk and Jimin to the movies, you wouldn’t get visits from Hobi, you wouldn’t get to shop with Taehyung or Jin, you wouldn’t get to drag Yoongi away from his thesis or celebrate with them when he finishes it! It’s not like being alive, Namjoon, you’d be dead and alone and in hell!”

“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving his arms into his coat. “Why can’t you understand for one fucking second that it wouldn’t be like that with you? I’d rather be stuck here forever than have to die in some shitty apartment and not even be able to touch the person I love.”

“Why can’t you understand that it’s still death? You’d be dead, Joon, your friends would go to your funeral and disappear from your life, and you’d be stuck staring out that window at that shitty alley for the rest of time. You don’t get it, you don’t how terrible it is to be stuck here and watch life pass you by.”

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” He asks. The door slams behind him before you can answer him, and your scream shakes everything in the room. You just barely catch one of the plants in the kitchen, a brown-potted one with ‘Shooky’ scrawled in Yoongi’s familiar handwriting, before it crashes to the ground. You return it to its place gently and huff another frustrated groan. 

You wish you could explain it better, but you know he wouldn’t get it even if you could. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be trapped between four walls and unable to do anything without massive amounts of effort. And he won’t, not unless he experiences it himself. 

You’ve already watched him wither away. You’ve watched him become thin and sallow and a shadow of the Namjoon who first moved in, and you don’t know what you would do if he came back. You wouldn’t be alone anymore, of course, and you’d have him here with you, but at what cost? Namjoon was built for cherry blossoms and sunshine and the riverside. He would hate being trapped here even more than you do.

Still, you could have been more understanding of his view. You can admit that even being stuck in a shitty apartment wasn’t so terrible when you had Namjoon there to make you laugh or watch TV or read to you. It may even get better if he turned into a ghost; maybe you could hold his hands in yours, could feel him wrap his arms around you, could press kisses to his skin again. 

You move to the window and stand there waiting. It’s not good for him to be out, even if the rain had stopped a few days ago and the forecasters promised it was the end of the downpours. He was still weak, you’d be surprised he even went anywhere to begin with but you know he likes to walk to calm himself down. 

You worry for what feels like hours. You can’t focus on anything, not the way the sun starts to set, not the sound of cars passing or the neighbor leaving. You’ve worked yourself into knots by the time you hear his whistle echo up through the streets, nearly lost in the sound of some argument in the alley below you. You catch a brief view of his coat and smile when you see that he’s got some half-dead plant tucked under an arm. There’s the briefest glimpse of what looks like a Ca scrawled onto it, and your heart jumps in your throat.

You make your way to the stove, turning the heat up slightly too high so that it’ll be ready when he comes in. The arguing outside gets louder but you pay it no mind, pulling the honey out and setting it next to his favorite mug. You’re reaching for the tea when you hear something else. It definitely sounds like Namjoon’s voice, but it’s not in the hall or at the door like usual. It’s raised, like he’s yelling at someone, like it was just a while ago when he was fighting with you. A crash startles you and before you can even reach the window to see what’s going on, there’s a deafening bang. 

You slam your fist against the window, watch the red mix with dirt, and the kettle isn't that only thing that screams. 

“I think that’s the last of it,” Jeongguk says. His voice is scratchy and quiet, but it’s deafening in the silence of the apartment. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok replies. His eyes are rimmed with red and his hands shake as he slides the last mug into a box. “Thanks for the help, Guk. I don’t, um.” He sniffles. “I don’t think I could’ve done it myself, y’know?” 

“I know,” Jeongguk agrees. They’re quiet again, adjusting the things they’ve boxed and avoiding finishing what they’re doing. 

“Oh, can you get that?” You don’t have to look to know what Hoseok is talking about. Jeongguk grunts an affirmation and makes his way over. It’s a strange feeling, having someone pass through you again for the first time since. His hands fly into the air as he tries to lift, clearly not having expected it to weigh anything. 

His reflection in the window frowns, and he tries again, tugging on the pot. 

“I can’t get it,” He says. “Do you think he glued these things down or something?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies as he wanders over as well. “He used to pick them up to re-pot them, remember? And the others came up with no problem.” 

“Well it’s stuck or something, you try.”

Hobi takes Jeongguk’s place and pulls hard at the plot, but your grip doesn’t waver. He huffs and disappears. When he returns, he’s got a butter knife in one hand that he does his best to slip under the pot. He tries hard to pry it up, so hard that you almost want to give in. You don’t though. 

The knife clatters to the floor with as much force as Hoseok can put behind it, a curse following quickly behind it. 

“Fuck it,” Hoseok says. His voice is shaky and you know he’s near tears again. “Just fuck it.” 

“But that was-”

“You can try if you want, Guk, but I just-” He chokes back a sob, shaking his head and moving to pick up the boxes he’d set down. “I just can’t, okay?” He disappears out the door in a hurry, and you wish you could follow after him. 

Jeongguk looks down at the small plant, with its painted periwinkle pot and soft leaves. He runs a quivering finger over the leaf and sniffles. He doesn’t try to lift it again, just stands and lets his tear soak into the soil.

“I wish you could come back to us,” He whispers. “We thought...we expected more time. It’s not...it’s not really fair, y’know? So if you can hear me, if you can come back to us, please do. Please.” 

He turns and leaves, the apartment door slamming behind him like the lid of a casket. Your grip on Mang loosens now that you know no one’s going to try to take it. You’d watched them pack everything else up; you’d let them take the steamer trunk full of records, the shelf full of books and movies, the collection of mugs, the soft blankets, the ratty couch, the rest of the plants he’d cared for so tenderly. 

Piece by piece they had packed Namjoon up and walked him out of the apartment, but this was the one piece they couldn’t have. This was his favorite and none of them knew how to care for it like you did, and you had to. You owed it to him. He deserved to come back to at least one familiar thing, never mind that you woke up not even a day later and it’s now been weeks. If there was one thing you wanted him to see when he got back, it was his favorite of his plants. 

The sun glares into your eyes from where it shines down on the city. It reflects off something in the window from across the alley, would be blinding if you actually had eyes. You pay it no mind, focused instead on the remains of the broken brown pot down in the alley, the way you’ve pieced them together in your head a thousand times just to trace the word Casper with your eyes. You can almost hear his voice saying it, even now.

You whip around, eyes darting through the empty space of the apartment as your hands tighten around Mang.

All that rests there is empty space, mocking in its loneliness. You remember when he moved in, remember how it felt to test the boundaries of the apartment and wish you were free. The want is still there, to leave and never think of it again, never think of him. You know better, though. You could never escape the memory of him, the way he laughed and smiled and spoke. You could never abandon Mang. Not when he said he’d always come back to you. 

You turn back to the window, cursing the sunlight with every other breath. It fades, slowly, into the black of night, before returning again, and again, and again. Days pass, each one feeling like years. Hoseok doesn’t appear to show the apartment, no one comes to collect the small periwinkle pot between your palms, and the ghost of his laugh echoes around you. 

The sun blinds you again. You don’t even know how long it’s been, just that you’ve yet to move. Light glints off whatever hangs in the window across the alley. That's when you see it, a vague reflection in the weathered glass of a dimple and a grin, and warmth surrounds you.

“I told you I’d always come back, Casper.”