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outofconcheol · 4 months

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Exit West (LMH x F!Reader)

pairing: Minho x f!reader (afab)

genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, post-apocalyptic au (based on the Netflix series Sweet Home), 18+

summary: Even when the world is plunged into its darkest hour, you find the faintest light in Minho.

warnings: heavy angst, lots of mentions of blood and injuries (i tried to make it as non-graphic as possible), minor character deaths, weapons, panic attack (again not graphic), it's heavily implied OC struggles with agoraphobia and PTSD, brief infidelity, Minho and reader do get into verbal arguments (they're a little toxic lol), Minho is a true loverboy, ambiguous but hopeful ending, smut warnings: kissing, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, brief nipple play

word count: 6.3k

a/n: i'm so sorry that this took so long, google docs decided to be a jerk and delete a huge chunk of this while i was working on it (I apologize in advance for the poorly written angst)! It is based on the world of Sweet Home but honestly you don't need to have watched the show or read the webtoon to follow along. the title is from the book by Mohsin Hamid. I hope you enjoy! <;3

The sharp wire of the metal fence cuts into Minho’s palms, digging into his mottled skin, and he braces himself for the jump. Leaping over, Minho lands silently on his feet, skills honed from many years of observing his cats take the same leap from couches or counters. But none of that existed anymore.

His eyes remain sharp, taking in the cover of woods around him, and he remembers that while the trees helped him stay hidden, they hid the monsters from his sight as well. No sooner than he’s managed to calm down the ever-present racing of his heart, he’s swinging the door to the bunker open, closing it quietly behind him.

Wincing, he examines the cuts on his palms, tinged with dirty specks of rust. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this, knowing the small supply of rubbing alcohol he’d managed to collect over the past few months was now down to the last bottle. And there was no more to be found.

The small bit of sunlight that streams in through the barely-qualifying window illuminates your sleeping figure nestled amongst a pile of dirty blankets, and Minho almost hesitates to disturb you like this. You look so peaceful like this, a stark contrast to the emptiness that fills your eyes when you wake, the pain of living through two starkly different lifetimes contained in their depths. He knows his eyes hold the same.

“___,” he shakes you awake gently, watching you stir. The gashes that mar your face have begun to scab over, leaving ugly scars in their wake.

“I brought dinner.”

That gets you to jolt up, rubbing sleepily at your eyes.

“Are you okay? Anything hurt?” You shake your head, a small frown on your face when you see the fresh red marks that litter his palms. He has the feeling you’re lying to him again, but he doesn’t push it. A lot went unspoken between you two.

Minho wordlessly hands you over a full sleeve of crackers, your eyes lighting up. You chomp down eagerly on one, before pausing, holding it out to him.

“I already ate,” he lies, knowing he didn’t want you to sacrifice any kind of meal for his sake. He’d eat the less full sleeve when you fell back asleep.

Moments of silence pass between you, the soft sounds of your eating lulling Minho’s tired eyes to fall, becoming heavy with sleep. He rests his head on his knees, fighting back the shiver that night brought with it.

A deafening roar breaks through the stillness, and you freeze, dropping the crackers to the ground. Minho is by your side in an instant, hand tentatively reaching out towards your shoulder. But he never closes the gap.

“Ten seconds,” you croak out, so softly that Minho thinks he might not have heard you. “If the distance that sounds travel is 343 metres per second, then ten seconds means it’s far enough away from us.”

The ghost of a smile twitches at Minho’s lips, and he wants to praise your sharp skills, considering he’d only ever been a pabo, but you’ve turned around and fallen asleep again, your back to him.

Minho settles into the blankets across from you, watching you for a few minutes before his body is weighed down by the exhaustion of the day, knowing the exact same thing waited tomorrow. The end of the world was more boring than he’d expected it to be.

It hadn’t always been this way. The chaos had naturally broken through the quiet, starting one night when a fire broke out in his apartment complex. Amidst the screams and sounds of windows shattering, Minho’s only concern had been the cats, scooping them up, taking special care to cover their ears from the blaring alarms. But all of it hadn’t made a difference anyway.

He thought it was his neighbour at the end of the hallway. Or at least, it looked like him. He’d always had some sort of disdain for the man - in Minho’s eyes he talked too much. Always interrupting him during his morning mail runs to brag about his latest conquests when it came to dating. It was a sore spot for Minho, especially considering his own romantic interests were so singular, something he didn’t want to get into whenever his neighbor cornered him.

But the vain man who talked Minho’s ear off about sleeping with as many women as possible was nowhere to be found, lithe limbs transforming into ropes that broke through the ceiling. Heading straight for Minho.

Somewhere in the chaos, Minho briefly had time to register that whatever was in front of him was no longer human. And so, he did the only thing he could do. Run.

The floor slipped underneath him, hurtling Minho to the ground, the cat carrier thrown open next to him. Soonie, Doongi, and Dori are nowhere to be found. His palms claw against the tile, trying and failing to lift himself up, eyes widening when he sees the red that coats his palms.

“Please,” Minho croaks, attempting to break through to the human underneath the monster. “Don’t do this.”

There’s a brief flash, a spindly arm reaching out for Minho’s face, and he ducks. The sound of shattering glass follows, the grotesque body flinging itself out the window. Minho heaves, hot tears leaking from his face as he remains curled in the fetal position, arms braced over his head. When his breath returns to him, he looks over at the empty carrier and lets out a sob. Slowly, his eyes turn to the shattered window.

Blood lines its jagged edges, dripping to join the mess on the floor. Peering downwards, Minho sees the mangled body of the thing (he refused to acknowledge it had been his neighbor) that had attacked him, unmoving.

He had to get out of there.

…

The knock at the door startles you. It’d been days since you’d locked yourself away from the chaos, days since you’d heard a sound. But the screams would never leave your head.

You’ve been huddled up in the same corner since it all started, exactly ten feet away from the door. Close enough to act quickly in case someone (or something) came knocking, but far enough away to duck into one of the rooms of your apartment for safety.

However, the splitting pain in your ankle prevents you from doing either. The bruises are turning a nasty shade of yellow, mixing with the unsightly violet from before. You’re pretty sure it’s broken, your bookcase toppling over onto it the day this had all started.

The knock startles you again. It’s soft, gentler than the ramming you’d expected if a monster were to come knocking. But still, you could never be too safe.

“Churu,” a soft voice whispers through the darkness, and you freeze. There was only one person in the world who’d know that word, and come knocking at your door.

Your palms burn as you drag yourself against the floor, taking extra care to make as little sound as possible. Fighting the urge to curse when the door creaks, you brace yourself against it, peering through the peephole.

The banged-up face of Lee Minho greets you on the other end, and you nearly sob with relief. Swinging the door open, you take him in at the threshold, peering at you with a strange gaze. You’d often joked to Minho that his eyes resembled his cats’, curiosity mixed with having seen too much contained in their depths. But it seemed especially true today, his lip split open and face haggard while he clutched a baseball bat in his hand.

You know the first thing he’s going to ask before it even leaves his mouth.

“Are you hurt?” he huffs out, watching you collapse against the door frame.

“Junho is gone.” You watch Minho’s entire figure tense up when his best friend’s name comes off your lips, his grip around the bat tightening.

“I-, I tried to talk to him, but there was a weird sound on my phone that kept breaking us up, and then I heard him scream, and then…”

You collapse against Minho in a fit of sobs, forced to recount those awful last moments when you’d heard your boyfriend die over a phone call, the chilling screech of something that wasn’t human cutting off his screams for help. And you were trapped halfway across the city, crumpled on the floor, unable to do anything to help him.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, supporting your weight, and he’s moving you both over the threshold, taking care to shut the door softly behind him. You don’t know how many minutes you spend wailing against his chest, the sight of another human forcing you to confront the horror you’d dealt with in the past few days, but eventually, the pain in your ankle makes itself known again, and you slide to the floor.

Minho rests his head against the door frame, his own eyes red-rimmed, and you watch his face contort, trying to hold back the tears from falling.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, watching Minho’s gaze snap to yours.

“What for?” he croaks. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m so scared, Minho,” your eyes fill with tears. “I thought that no one would come for me, that I’d be alone here, and that I’d…”

You choke, unable to finish the sentence, and you watch Minho straighten next to you. The warmth of his hand wrapping around your waist startles you, watching his lithe body contort as he helps you up off the floor, taking special care not to put weight on your ankle.

“You’re with me now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

There’s a furrow in Minho’s brow when he hears your request, lips tightening into a thin line while his throat bobs.

“Absolutely not.”

The decision is final, resolute, stubborn — Minho’s arms are crossed over each other, and he stares down at your figure among the blankets, eyeing the makeshift splint currently tied around your ankle.

“Minho, please.” It comes out as a whine, years building in your eyes from the frustration of being trapped in the bunker for months on end.

“I said no.”

Minho had dragged the two of you to safety not long after he’d found you, stealthily dodging the strange creatures that had begun to pop up on the city landscape. There was little in common between them besides their monstrous appearances, but Junho’s screams lingered in the back of your mind, causing you to wake up every night in a cold sweat for the first few weeks.

The tiny bunker became your new home, and Minho your roommate, forced together by circumstances beyond your control. You’d snapped at him when he brought up the idea of leaving, wanting to search for food and supplies outside.

Unfortunately, your ankle made the final decision for you — Minho would have to be the sacrificial lamb, risking his life for you both. It filled you with an immeasurable amount of guilt, knowing he put himself in danger every day to provide for you both. But it also made you angry, the listlessness that had begun to brew inside you only becoming stronger when you felt more and more useless every time he’d come back with food and medicine for you and nothing for himself.

Regret cut through you like a searing knife. Who was Minho to do all these things? He’d been Junho’s best friend, not yours. The relationship between you two had been cordial at best, Minho barely managing to string more than five words together every time he was around you. It always seemed to you like Minho stood at the other end of a vast abyss, impossible for you to reach in any way. Admittedly, you’d been no help in closing the chasm, even since you’d both escaped together, the pain in your ankle lulling you to sleep as soon as you swallowed the meds he brought every day.

Your eyes flit to Minho across the bunker, holed up into the corner. You watch his hands rummage around in his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. The shiny metal gleams in the rays of the sun, Minho’s fingers enclosing around a lock of his messy, overgrown hair—

“STOP!” The switchblade clatters to the floor at the sound of your voice, Minho’s lips parting in surprise. A deep flush creeps across your neck, wondering what had prompted you to interrupt him in the moment. His eyes study you with a curious glint, a thousand questions hidden in them.

“You’ll dull the knife,” you manage to get out, amazed at the calmness in your voice despite your heart racing at a million miles an hour. “What if we need it?”

Minho’s lips twist up into a smirk, and you wonder if he can see through your thinly veiled excuse. If he does, he doesn’t say anything, throwing a baseball cap over the shaggy strands, smiling when they fall into his eyes.

“Fine,” he acquiesces. “You can come along. But any sign of trouble and you have to leave me and get back here, okay?”

“What do you mean, leave you? You’re coming back with me, of course.”

“___.”

“Minho.”

You push yourself off the ground with your palms, hobbling over to Minho’s side.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly to him, and Minho rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly, before the door to the bunker creaks open once more, this time the two of you stepping out into the sun together.

. . .

Sweat pools on Minho’s shirt, the sun beating down on the two of you while you make your way through the woods, eventually finding yourselves in a vast field. You’re slower than he is, trailing behind him while you skip on your partially healed ankle, but Minho finds he doesn’t mind.

In fact, he thinks he must look like a fool, the huge smile that threatens to take over his face creeping up every few minutes. Somehow, it feels different now, having you here with him. The sun’s rays feel less ruthless, and there’s the faint rustling of a breeze through the meadow. It's almost like he’s on an adventure, and not caught in an endless struggle for survival. He’s filled with the hope that maybe the two of you can come out of this alive. Together.

Pushing through the blades of grass, Minho pauses when he hears a small thud behind him, followed by the faint sound of wheezing. Turning on his heels, his heart turns to ice when he sees you, knees curled to your chest, the faint sheen of sweat lingering on your skin.

“Shit!” Minho curses into thin air, crouching onto the dirt next to you. “Stay with me ___!”

His arm swings out to steady you, but recoils at the last second, not wanting to startle you. Guilt eats away at his chest when he realizes this is all his fault. He’d been the one to agree to let you go outside. Realization dawns on him that there’d been a reason you stayed in the bunker the entire time, his mind flashing back to the days you must have spent alone in your apartment, full of pain, wondering if anyone would show up.

Minho panics, looking around the field for something, anything that could help hold you over until this passes, when a thought crosses his mind.

“Do you want to hear about the time I tried to walk my cats?” He babbles out, cheeks hot at the silly interruption. It works though, your face jolts up, the trance finally broken. Your eyes are red-rimmed, hair dampened with sweat, snot running down your nose. Minho thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“It was in a field just like this, I brought them out here with their harnesses,” he continues, the smile growing on his face when he sees the stream of tears that run down your cheeks dry up.

“It was a disaster. I thought Doongie ran away for sure, and Soonie just laid down in the grass on his belly, refusing to get up. Dori was the only one who took to it,” he reminsces fondly, a half-sob, half-chuckle escaping him at the memory, trying to soothe the hollow ache in his heart when he thinks of them.

“I wish I’d met them,” you reply softly, your hand resting on Minho’s shoulder.

“It was my fault,” Minho spits out bitterly. “Junho was over all the time, I could have introduced you. They would have really liked you I think.”

Just like I do.

“I hope we find them,” your voice is quiet, but there’s a resoluteness to it that surprises Minho. “They have to be out there somewhere, waiting for you.”

That strange feeling of hope bubbles up in Minho’s chest again, and he helps you up, fighting the burning in his cheeks when your hand remains clasped in his, the two of you hobbling through the field.

Half an hour later, and you’re stopped outside the remains of what looked to be a convenience store, completely ransacked. Minho ignores the emptiness he feels when he lets go of your hand to peer inside, his heart dropping at the bare shelves.

Behind him, a twig snaps, your sharp gasp echoing amidst the silence. The gleam of the switchblade is apparent in seconds, Minho pulling it out of his pocket.

The woman is whimpering, her gauzy white dress in tatters. His eyes trail to her hands, the discoloured nails offset by the glint of a fancy diamond ring, and for a moment, he could almost believe she’d just walked out of the church, beaming from the happiest day of her life.

But her eyes say differently. Hollow pools of black, nothing behind them. She’s one of them.

“___, run.” Minho commands, not even turning to look behind him. He hopes you’re gone already, hopes you won’t have to stick around to see this dark side of him, the one that was used to doing battle with monsters every time he left the safety of your little bunker.

But you’re not gone. Your hand wraps around his, lifting it up to study the switchblade in his hand. He looks into your eyes, full of fear but also sadness at the sight in front of you, and he wonders if you see yourself in her. What things could have been with Junho.

“I don’t think she’s going to hurt us,” you wrestle Minho’s blanched fingers off the blade. “We should just go.”

You pocket the knife, Minho’s jaw tensing at the thought of leaving the woman behind, unsure of the potential harm she could cause. He opens his mouth to protest, but realizes you’ve already begun to walk away, your slumped figure visible against the setting sun. You’re crying again.

The woman wails harder when she sees the two of you go, her cries echoing into the silent night.

It’s cold tonight in the bunker.

You shiver among the pile of blankets, watching your breath turn into mist in the frosty air. Teeth chattering, you look over to Minho. His pile of blankets is even more sparse than your own, and you catch sight of his own trembling figure.

It’s cold, your voice echoes in the back of your mind, your feet dragging across the floor, the blankets dragging behind you.

It’s cold, it echoes again, Minho stirring when you lay by his side, throwing the extra blankets over the two of you. His eyes go wide with shock when he sees your face across his in the darkness, studying the way your hair falls messily in your face, the rapid rising of your chest with every breath.

It’s cold, it repeats a final time, your lips surging forward to meet Minho’s, a strange noise escaping his throat before one of his arms comes up to wrap around you, his other palm steadying him against the floor. It’s cold and Minho is warm, the heat from his body burning through you when his tongue traces your lips, before slipping inside, a low whine escaping your throat.

You break away from him, flushed and shivering, but no longer cold. Minho’s hot breath fans against your cheeks, his thumb resting tentatively at the curve of your jaw.

“Touch me please,” you beg him, and his grip around your waist tightens, hands tracing circles on your side. His lips find yours again, thumbs slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, resting against the curve of your hips. You burrow your face into Minho’s neck, leaving featherlight kisses against his jaw, heat rising in your chest when you hear Minho hold his breath. Breaking away, you meet his gaze, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Anything,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Sparks crackle in the air between you, the once stagnant air in the bunker becoming filled with frantic energy, you slipping a leg over to straddle Minho, him fumbling with the buttons to your clothes, pushing aside just enough to feel how wet you are. The fingers of his other hand trace under your shirt again, climbing up your stomach, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts before he tugs at your nipples.

Sighing, your hips move against Minho’s hardness, pushing aside the worn fabric of Minho’s flannel to press kisses to his collarbones, his thumb working on your clit. Your back arches when he presses another finger inside, and the familiar burn of your orgasm begins to rise, building in your stomach.

“Let go for me,” Minho groans, and the deep growl in his voice has you hurtling over the edge, trembling as you fall apart on top of him. The two of you exchange shallow breaths, Minho’s fingers still buried inside you, and you feel your core begin to clench around them, whining from the oversensitivity.

“Please, please, can I fuck you?” Minho whispers, desperation in his tone. You nod, head spinning with everything that had happened, and you reach back under his sweats, fishing his cock out from underneath them.

He pushes into you slowly, groaning when he feels your walls widening to accommodate him. The two of you stay there for a few moments, catching your breath before you tell him it’s okay to move. His hips snap lazily against yours, fucking you slowly and deeply, soft pants and the sound of your wetness reverberating through the bunker.

You rock against him gently, and you reach for his hands, his warm fingertips slipping through your own easily, limbs tangling together in desperation.

“You’re perfect god, you’re perfect, I love you, I love you so much,” he slurs the words, the confession ringing in your ears, soft groans accompanied by the speeding up of his thrusts before he spills inside you.

Lifting you off of him, his arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel the wet trail of tears on his cheeks. Eventually, his breathing slows, soft snores telling you he’s fallen asleep, but you remain restless for the rest of the night.

The headache hits Minho like a freight train in the morning, as he stares up at the rust-covered ceiling. There’s a faint chill in the air, one that became even more pronounced when he woke up and you weren’t by his side, and he wonders for a second if he’d imagined it all, from the softness of your lips to the way the words he’d been wanting to say, waiting years to say spilled out of his throat, every kiss and laugh you shared with Junho burned into his memory. And all he did was look on, hopeless in his desperation. Until everything changed last night.

A loud clang startles him, and he jumps up, watching you throw a heavy sack containing the supplies he’d stockpiled against the walls of the bunker, your back turned to him. He lifts himself off his feet, padding softly behind you, his arm reaching out for you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, words clipped and venomous, and you keep rearranging, completely ignorant to the way Minho stands there, unable to formulate a response, his tongue feeling as though it’s weighed down with lead.

Rage lights up inside him as he watches you move around him, the silence making his heart freeze over, and he decides that he can’t take it anymore. It’s been months with you acting this way, cold and distant, refusing to let Minho in. Before, he’d been able to write off your happiness with Junho as an excuse, as a reason why he couldn’t let himself get close to you. But Junho was long gone.

“We’re not doing this,” he spins you around to face him. “You don’t get to walk away from me like that.”

You push against Minho’s chest with all the might you can muster, and he staggers back. The look in your eyes makes you seem like a wounded animal, ready to pounce.

“Why’d you say it?” Another push, the words leaving you in a broken sob. “Why’d you do that?”

You bat against Minho’s chest until he can no longer take it, grabbing both of your hands with one of his, pinning you against the wall.

“Because it’s true,” he breathes, looking past you through the window outside, unable to meet your eyes. “I love you ____. I’ve loved you this entire time, even when you were with Junho. And I hate myself for it.”

He lets go of your arms, stepping back, his shoulders beginning to shake with the force of his own sobs.

“Why do you think I stayed? Why do you think I put myself in danger every day to make sure that you had medicine for your ankle, food to fill your stomach? Why do you think I go out there and kill every single monster I run into, because I need to make it back here, to be with you again?”

“You shouldn’t!” you scream at him. “What kind of life is this? Love should be the last thing on your mind right now, Minho! You should fucking worry about your own neck, and stop giving a damn about me!”

The words tear through you, because you know that if it weren’t for his love, you wouldn’t even be alive right now. And it hurts, hurts to think of how long he’s spent living like this, merely surviving, a wall of ice around his chest.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But I do. Do you know that these past few months, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been? What kind of fucked up logic is that? I have nothing, nothing in this world besides this stupid bunker and the clothes on my back, and it makes me want to sob with joy. Because I get you. I get a chance at life with you, after so many years of wishing for it, and knowing I could never have it.”

He falls onto the ground, tucking his head into his knees.

“The universe gave me another chance,” he whispers softly.

Your blood turns to ice, and you crouch down next to him.

“What do you mean, another chance?”

He looks at you, and you finally see all the pain in his eyes come to the surface, everything that he’s kept bottled up inside.

“It should have been me,” he mutters, lost in his own head. “I told Junho about how I wanted to go up to you that night, how beautiful I thought you were, but before I could do anything, he was there. It ended up being him.”

Your head reels from his confession, and you think back to everything that’s happened through the years. All those memories you had with Junho, Minho lingering in the background, purposely keeping his distance. Memories that you could have had with him instead. Bile rises up in the back of your throat, and you back away.

“I can’t do this, Minho, not right now, I can’t–”

“I know.” He’s at the door before you can stop him, one foot on the other side of the threshold. “Don’t worry about it.”

He leaves before you can even ask him to stay.

Minho knocks back another shot, stomach churning when he sees Junho approach the pretty brunette, chatting her up. She’s batting her eyelashes and giggling at him, and he knows he should be grateful that his best friend is helping him out, on a desperate mission to cure Minho’s singleness.

But all he can focus on is you in the corner, nervously watching your boyfriend flirt with another girl, and Minho wants to vomit when he sees your lip tremble, eyes glassy with tears.

He’d driven himself nearly mad with the fantasies about what he’d do if he was in Junho’s position, how much better he could treat you. But at the end of the day, that’s all they were. Fantasies. You two were happy together, and he had no place in it.

Minho suddenly remembers the shiny ring that Junho had shown him last week, tucked away in the drawer of his dresser, and decides promptly that he needs to step outside, the stale air of the bar burning his nostrils.

There’s a faint breeze outside, and it calms him, rewiring his muddled senses enough for him to plop down on the curb. Minho heaves, the alcohol coming back up his throat, but he tries his best to breathe deeply, like his therapist had told him. The pity in her eyes when he’d explained his feelings for you lingers in the back of his mind. You were a vice he couldn’t quit.

A shadow looms next to him, and Minho looks over to see you standing on the curb next to him, studying him curiously.

“Not a fan of cheap vodka?” you chuckle, taking a seat next to him, and Minho internally curses when he feels your thighs brush. He was too drunk for this.

“Just needed some air,” he tries to laugh it off too. “Gonna have a killer headache tomorrow.”

“She was pretty,” the statement startles him. He couldn’t give less of a damn about the girl Junho was talking to, but it seems that wasn’t the case for you.

“Not interested,” he grits out. Not when she’s not you.

“You know, dating isn’t all it’s cut out to be,” you sigh. “I mean, there are good times, don’t get me wrong, but the bad times feel a thousand times worse when you care about someone. Like seeing your boyfriend flirt with another girl right in front of you.”

There’s a bitter edge to your words, and Minho surprises you, reaching over to cup your cheek and tilt your head towards him.

“Junho is a fool,” the words come out in a slow, heavy breath.

“Happy birthday, Minho,” you whisper, a small smile on your face, and Minho leans in, lips searching for yours. The kiss is quick, a brief graze full of shy reluctance, but you’re surprised you don’t back away, dizzy when he retreats, and missing the feeling of his soft lips.

You lean your head on his shoulder, the two of you lingering on the curb for a few moments, before Junho’s loud voice echoes in the background, startling you apart from each other.

“Hey dipshits, the party’s inside,” he drawls, walking over to swoop you off your feet. Junho presses a peck to your cheek, wrapping his jacket around you, and your eyes roam around frantically, looking for any sign of Minho. But he’s already gone, the faint outline of his leather jacket the only thing you see before he disappears around the corner of the bar, vanishing into the night.

Minho stumbles through the forest, the pounding in his head only growing worse, the memory of the kiss you’d shared consuming his thoughts, splintered with snippets from the conversation with you. The one he’d been waiting so long to have.

The spell had been shattered, and Minho thinks he’s foolish to imagine that it could have lasted, the two of you playing house together, and he cursed the false hope he’d harboured for so long. It was a fucking apocalypse, you were desperate for release, and you’d never cared. Not like he did.

But then his mind flashes back to the kiss, and he doesn’t know what possessed him that night, or possessed you to return it. The moment was the single spark that kept the flickering flame of his love for you going, even now, when you’d basically banished him.

A sharp pain surges through him, and Minho staggers to the ground. He clutches the fabric of his shirt, lifting it up to see the ugly wound he’d been letting fester for weeks, a stray swipe from a monster he’d run into. It’s pulsating now, stabbing into his side, and he wants to kick himself. Why had he been so selfless?

Sometimes, he thinks loving you was the worst decision he’d ever made, the way it consumed him completely. He thinks that maybe if time could reverse, and he had a second chance, that he’d never do it, never lock eyes with you from across the party, your smile forever etched into his memory. But that was a lie. Minho knew he’d do it all again for as long as his heart continued to beat.

Minho feels something squelch on the ground below him, a metallic tang hitting the back of his throat. He swipes at it, crimson coating his fingers. Blood. His blood. He presses a tentative hand to his face, swiping at his leaking nose, but the bleeding won’t stop. There’s too much of it.

Minho screams when his spine cracks, the pain splitting through his entire body, and he feels his eyes roll back into his head.

When he opens them again, the world is dark. And he runs.

. . .

Your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, parched for air as you make your way through the forest, wobbling through the trees, looking for something, anything that could lead you to Minho.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears, accompanied by a ringing that hasn’t ceased since you left the bunker. The decision still made your stomach turn, afraid to confront the outside world without Minho by your side, but you had to find him. Had to let him know that you wouldn’t let him suffer anymore.

Mind lingering on a specific memory from Minho’s birthday, you realized there’d always been a strange undercurrent between you, even when Junho had been around. Despite how many times he drew away from you, you never let him escape completely. At first, you’d thought it was because he was Junho’s friend, but it all changed after that night outside the bar, your attraction to Minho settling in your chest like a lead weight.

You think back to the months you’d spent together, the world falling apart around you, and how Minho had become your entire world, the reason you’d continued to hope. How you’d fallen in love with every part of him, from the way he’d let you take the first share of food to the messy strands of his grown-out hair.

The wind whips through your hair, the dense cover of trees thinning around you, and you stumble upon the meadow, a lone figure illuminated in the moonlight. You know it’s him.

“Minho!” you scream, watching as he stumbles across the field in response, trying to get away from you. “Minho!”

You scream until your voice runs hoarse, fighting through the pain in your ankle, and eventually, Minho draws closer and closer, collapsing in the middle of the field. His back is turned to you, and he ducks his head, avoiding your gaze.

You think he’ll run away when you approach him, but he remains lifeless, as still as a statue. Crouching down beside him, you lift his chin, turning his face up to you, a gasp caught in your throat at what you find.

There’s something wrong with his eyes. They shift from the dark brown irises you’d come to know to hollow pools of black. His face is smeared with blood, and his breathing is shallow.

“____, you have to go, I’m turning, it’s not safe, I’m not safe–,” Minho grabs your arm, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. His speech is garbled, but you can hear the gentle tone of his voice still trapped inside. He’s still Minho.

“How dare you tell me to run,” you hiss at him. “How dare you tell me to leave?”

“You don’t understand,” he growls, hands shaking in rage. “I’m a monster!”

Fear strikes you at the realization that something was very wrong with him, something neither you or him had ever been able to anticipate. But it’s overcome by a stronger, more profound emotion.

“I don’t care,” you take his face in your hands again. “I love you, Minho. I loved you through the world ending, and I’ll love you through this. Because your life is mine now, just like mine is yours. It’s our second chance. And we will do whatever it takes to survive.”

Minho clasps your hands in his, fingertips rubbing against your knuckles, and you smile when you notice that his eyes are normal again, no longer filled with darkness. Maybe there was a chance.

“We’ll head west,” Minho rests his forehead against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I saw a hospital nearby. Maybe there are other survivors, people just like us.”

You nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your head into the crook of his neck. The two of you would exit west as soon as the sun rose, ready to start a new journey together.

Perhaps the life you shared was far from perfect but you realized that you’d clutched onto it as desperately as him, because he was the only thing you had. You were each other’s home.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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mysticalangel3 · 10 months

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Random astro observations

Please note that these may not resonate with everyone. I am not a professional astrologer; I simply share what I have gathered so far. Enjoy <3

Taurus mars - Individuals with Mars in Taurus exude a peaceful vibe. Their reactions tend to unfold more leisurely compared to other Mars signs. They possess a strong determination to uphold what they consider their own, showing unwavering commitment to that particular aspect. People with Mars in Taurus are marked by delicacy and grace. Many of them steer clear of conflicts, striving instead to maintain equilibrium.

7h Chiron - These incredible individuals often find themselves wrestling with a deep sense of not quite fitting in within specific areas of their lives. It's like they're piecing together a puzzle with multiple dimensions, influenced by all sorts of intricate factors and situations. It's quite surprising how some folks they considered close pals can turn out to be not-so-friendly, showing just how tricky their social interactions can be. In the intricate dance of relationships, a recurring theme centers around their tussle with feelings of attachment and abandonment. These emotions can sometimes lead them into bumpy rides of unhealthy relationships, where taking care of themselves can take a backseat. It's a challenge that now and then leads them into stormy seas, making them feel like they're caught in a whirlwind. But hold on tight, because within these challenges lies a chance to grow and transform. The hurdles they face aren't roadblocks but rather stepping stones toward becoming even stronger. As they journey through life, these individuals have the potential not only to heal their wounds but also to rise above them, becoming beacons of strength and inspiration.

1h Saturn - These folks boast distinctive facial features that lend them an air of timeless charm, much like a fine wine that only gets better with age. It's worth noting that while they might appear older than their years, it's not a universal rule—other factors in their birth chart come into play. Meeting them for the first time might give off a serious and mature vibe, but don't let that initial impression fool you. As you get to know them, you'll find that their seriousness gradually gives way to warmth and approachability. Taking their responsibilities seriously is second nature to them, and they're not ones to fool around when it comes to commitments. You'll likely catch them sprinkling their conversations with a good dose of sarcasm, a sign of their sharp wit. And don't be surprised if they occasionally crave some alone time to process their thoughts and feelings.

1H Mars - These placements give individuals sharp eyebrows, creating a unique style that stands out compared to other eyebrows. The eyes can possess a magnetic quality or a distinctly sharp look. They are often large and may change shades. Lips tend to appear reddish or plump. Overall, the facial features are sharp and well-defined, contributing to a youthful appearance and a magnetic aura.

Angel 🫶🏻

#taurus mars #7h chiron #1h mars #saturn 1h #astro community #astro observations #astro placements #astro posts #astroblr #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology tumblr #natal chart

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undercoverpena · 1 year

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memories are fresh

cod soap mactavish x f!reader (callsign: squid)

thank you to voldie asking for happy angst — apparently the genre of what I write hahaha (voldie because they asked to not be named) warnings: angst. brief past mention of bickering. tense situations, with emotional convo. fluff. squid/mar is the nickname (from the miniseries) ends happy, promise. wordcount: 1.4k

soap masterlist

It’s quiet. Silent.

Has been for several minutes, which have ticked past on your watch. Not that you move—nor him. Not even as the long grass stems tickle your wrists and the weeds groan around the two of you.

The rain still patters against the leaves above, the branches swinging in the wind—the downpour smothering any oncoming footsteps, even in the bogginess of the countryside.

He’s breathing heavily next to you, catching his breath. His eyes focused elsewhere, as though he can’t bear to look your way, something you know isn't true, but just your mind playing tricks on you.

The remnants of the earlier bickering, still living and pulsing between the two of you. Or, at least, it is for you.

It had begun petty, but they always did. The two of you never really argued, just light bickering. Just this time, with the truth unwilling to be spoken, it had gotten close to personal before you both stopped it. Throwing apologies like blankets, hoping it would snuff out the smoke.

Jealousy had been an ingredient, a factor. Another had been a need to protect. Memories were the spices, still fresh—that former longing still clinging to bones, even if it’s him you choose, over and over.

None of that matters when a poor choice of words is made, when they fall from lips carelessly and greet ears cruelly.

Hear y'asked Price to go with LT. I enquired— Y'not fancy me goin' wit yer, hen? We told Price we wouldn't let this get in the way. And I'm not. Let it go, Soap. Aye, seems it. It’s not that I refuse to be partnered with you. I'm just choosing not to be. That so, Mar? I... I didn't mean—

The moment the words kissed the air, it changed things. You felt it, snapping your head in his direction to watch how he stilled his expression. Tried to keep all the pieces stationary. The words still shifted in the air, like your lips were poison, you watched the air turn black, rotting and eroding all the previous smiles or laughter.

Soap knew you were his, like you knew he was yours. It is all a fact, not a myth.

If anything, it was obvious it had been that way for longer than you both felt the need to acknowledge. Your sleeping pattern revolves around him, your calmness determined by his current location and physicality.

Yet, sometimes, memories from when you were friends needled past the bubble the two of you had formed. The one which grew with I need you’s and solidified with future plans. It wasn’t impenetrable, but close.

That’s how it got in. The jealousy. It slithered through the gaps which were still left. It lit the match, which illuminated the gas and the fire spread before the two of you landed in the European countryside. It engulfed and choked the air as you travelled closer to the place marked X by Price. It only silenced, stemmed under the quick apologies and I love yous, but then a new sound alerted you both to worry.

A bullet, one which whirred past your ear. You're thrown back, landing in mud, his weight on top of yours—for reasons different than a day ago.

Then it was shouting, both from the two of you, and some from them. It was bullets and boots meeting mud, it was legs sliding down banks, and his hand trying to find yours.

Now, it was silent for other reasons.

The rocks and trees doing well to hide the two of you, an explanation for the catalyst of the childish bickering sitting on your tongue. Evidenced by today—words which wouldn’t be said with bitterness, but rather with hope for real respite.

It’s been fifteen minutes of silence. No shouts in foreign languages, no bullets—nothing but the rain. It’s why you shuffle, boot almost sliding down the grassy hill—his hand grasping your upper arm without so much as looking.

It’s then you decide to let honesty out, rather than keeping it caged. Decided to abandon stubbornness, and let him in—a thing you grow close to being used to, until you find yourself stepping back into old patterns.

“Johnny…”

He hums, still looking, listening—ever the protector.

“I don’t wanna be with you out here because I can’t think straight,” you whisper.

The confession bursts the tension. Watching it fall like glitter and paper, flecks of it in his eyes when he turns his face to you.

Streaks of mud across his cheek, hair all at odd angles—beads of rain and sweat muddled together on his brow and nose.

Even covered in the earth, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone more handsome.

You offer a smile. “It’s one thing to hear that the person you love has…” you swallow, shifting your weight, “It’s another to see it. And we're both... stupid, stubborn—”

“Mar…”

Shaking your head, you hear the rest of his words die on his tongue. The two of you sigh, perfectly in time, in tune with the other.

Smiling, you should suggest moving—to try and make it back to the place you were to radio from, but he looks at you. Instead, you let it all unfurl—the cards you’ve been keeping close to your chest.

The ones held there by fear, that feeling which puts you on edge, waiting for him to realise he deserves better.

“I told you before, Johnny,” you whisper, almost afraid of saying it any louder, “I’d be lost without you, I meant it then, but I mean it more now.”

His eyes flash, dancing with the memory. One from another night in the rain, outside a pub then, rather than a large tree—an oak, maybe—with leaves which were hammered above by unfortunate weather.

And then, he’s giving you a look. Not his usual look, and not the one he gives you when he’s worried. The softer one, the one which comes out when you’re curled around one another under sheets; the one which lived, half-cloaked, in his eyes before the two of you were honest about your feelings.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his fingers, besmear with mud and dirt, slide across your cheek, eyes ablaze with something more than adrenaline, gratitude and righteousness.

“Y’not gonna lose me, Mar…”

You curl into his touch, having craved it. “You can’t promise me that.”

He drops his eyes, lips spreading into a line, before he flicks them back up. “I love—“

“—I know,” you say, too quickly.

Soap half-smiles, thumb stroking your jaw. “No, Mar. Y’don’t. You wanna partner wit someone else, worrying what you’ll see. I wanna partner with y’, so I can make sure nothing happens t’ you.”

Eyes brimming, you take a low breath. “You haven’t got to always save me.”

He smiles, mirroring the one you slowly let free over your lips. Hearing it, without him saying it, 'Gonna keep tryin', hen', even if the two of you know that not a lot stops bullets meeting flesh.

It's what scares you about partnering with him—what he's willing to do for the cause, and more what he's willing to do to keep you alive.

Not that you can blame him, you'd take a thousand for him too.

You watch him, how he leans closer, smiling as you say, “You can’t kiss me.”

“Why not?”

Smirking, you lose yourself in the pools of his eyes. Tell yourself the reason your hair is stuck to your skin is because you’ve dived in them.

“Because, I’ll kiss you back.”

“Aye? The horror.”

Shaking your head, he strokes a line across your jaw.

“And then I’ll want to take your vest off, and then your top, and then—because you hate being the only topless one when I’m around—we’ll both be topless, distracted, and likely be shot.”

Snorting, he taps your jaw lightly, before dropping his hand. “Y’have a point.”

“It’s why you love me.”

“That and you got a nice arse.”

Letting your head roll back, you fight a snigger.

“Mar…” he whispers, rolling your head to meet his eyes. “Y’dont have to partner wit’ me, when it’s just two o’ us. I get it, alright. Scares me t’.”

And you nod, a silent thank you, taking his hand in yours as you squeeze it—before drawing a heart on the back of it.

Him shuffling, slowly managing to stand without slipping, holding his hand out to you. Taking it with ease, knowing you won’t fall—won’t slip.

Johnny would never let you.

The two of you finding even footing before you glance at him, taking him all in. The mud over his vest, the way his wet top clings to his arms.

"Who'd you rather I partner with, after you?"

He pauses, adjusting the tightness of his vest, checking his gun.

"Ghost?" you ask, biting your bottom lip as you try not to smile.

"Y'pushing yer luck, Mar."

i don't do tag lists, but voldie said i can do this, so i'm gifting this flangsty little numbers to @brewed-pangolin because i adore them, and they love squid, they love angst, and more so love soap.

#cod soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #soap squad #cod soap #soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #soap x squid #soap 🧼#cod mw soap #soap cod

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cafedanslanuit · 1 year

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☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ HOW THEY SEE ROMANCE BASED ON THEIR MOON, VENUS & MARS SIGNS

isagi, bachira, kunigami ☼ chigiri, reo, nagi ☼ sae, rin, oliver

why those signs? well, you see, those three are the most relevant in our charts when it comes to romance. our moon sign shows how we deal with emotions, how we express them and our emotional needs. our venus sign tells us how we approach romantic relationships and what brings us pleasure. and lastly, our mars sign reveals our truest desires, our instincts, and sexuality.

tags/warnings: gn reader + no pronouns, pretty sfw, a tad suggestive

note: i based my calculations on the birthdays shown on the egoist bible since they sometimes differ on different websites :) @ofoceansandtombsanew here's nagi's reading, come get your man!!! <3

masterlist

CHIGIRI — aries moon + sag venus + pisces mars

A bit difficult to understand in terms of romance because, while he can be direct, he’s also quite sensitive. He needs a warm partner that can help him when he’s feeling insecure while being soft and caring but, at the same time, they can’t be too sensitive and get hurt over his bluntness and, sometimes, lack of tact. Chigiri knows his words and behaviour sometimes upset people and he’d love someone that doesn’t take things personally and can handle his bad mood. He’s the perfect mix of being needy and independent, playing aloof but wanting reassurance, all at the same time. While he’s moody and temperamental, he’s not the type to isolate himself, even when he feels guilty about his outbursts. In relationships, he needs an emotional connection just as much as a physical one and he’s always attentive to your sexual needs. In his mind, if you’re enjoying it, then he’s enjoying it too. He’s open to different kinds of sexual expression and you can’t really put a label on him.

REO — taurus moon + cancer venus + sag mars

Reo is very romantic but his expectations can be a bit unrealistic in terms of love. He’s very practical in other areas of his life, but love is, in a way, his weakness. He gets too emotionally involved and needs you to consistently affirm your love for him. He loves a partner that can be adventurous and daring, but only if they can balance it with a sense of security. Reo is actually very vulnerable, but he doesn’t want other people to know this (he’s a Leo sun after all). Very good intuition about your feelings and needs, but sometimes he fails to recognize your need for change and growth. He’s very romantic and he won’t compromise his feelings unless he’s sure there’s something in it for him. Regarding sex, he’s all for physical affirmations of love. He’s very forward with his needs and he carries an innocent aura when he expresses them. Loves to have fun in bed-- the type of man who will laugh and manhandle you a bit just for the sake of it.

NAGI — libra moon + libra venus + sag mars

In a relationship, Nagi needs his mind to be stimulated just as much as his heart. While he may enjoy your presence, he also needs some time to himself. He doesn’t do well with restrictive partners who can’t control their possessiveness. Of course, he also offers you the space and freedom to be who you are as well. He loves having you tag along to wherever he’s going and finds reassurance in verbal expressions of love. He usually doesn’t come on strong-- he’s more about the subtlety of romance. To Nagi, a romantic relationship should be set on an existing friendship for both of you to be comfortable, and most of all, safe with each other. That comes in handy regarding sex because he has a playful nature to it. Loves to feel so in sync with someone that he can’t help but laugh and be blunt about what he needs. However, sometimes he may seem bothered by flaws in his relationships and will try to fix them as soon as he can so he can rest again.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #chigiri x reader #reo x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi seishiro #chigiri hyoma #mikage reo

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loveandleases · 11 months

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sorry, i don't know if you've already said this. but i can't find it. what do they look like the ros? height, ethnicities, body type. for all the nitty gritty fanart/-fic/-tasy reasons! ty

The deets will be on the character intro post but I guess I'll go ahead and answer here too. (I suck at descriptions so lts hope 588 words is enough)

Edit: Just added link to the character intro's. Character Intro

Cam- Cam is fair-skinned with warm coppery hair. Length is kept just below the ears. (he's always struggling with the front) He has heterochromia, so his left eye is a warm brown, while his right is a deep green. Cam has a slim athletic build, and he stands at 6'2. He has several piercings in his ears, with a scar on the left lobe from a bad attempt at homemade piercing (thanks mc) Cam has one dimple in his left cheek. He jokes that if he had two he would be unstoppable.

G- G has a warm skin tone. Their hair is a cool black, while their eyes are dark brown almost black. Male G keeps their hair in a two-block style and tends to keep it pushed back (because puppies like to play with hair) while Female G keeps hers mid-length and layered. FG tends to have her hair pulled back. G has a lean build, female and male g are both 5'10''. (and a half, G likes to ensure ppl know that) They are of Korean descent. Their lips are not exactly plump also not exactly thin, a nice in-between. G has a beauty mark under their left eye and another on the right side of their neck. (long gorgeous lashes)

Kara- Her skin is slightly warmer than Cam. She has round strikingly blue eyes, very soft features. Small nose, dainty lips. Her hair hits just above the waist, while the front is layered just above her chest. She keeps in a lighter blonde shade. Kara's has a curvy body type. Her thighs have very much saved some lives. She stands at just 5'4.

M- ( gonna start calling them Mar for short)- Our cinnamon roll is mixed race. Chinese and Caucasian. Their skin tone is naturally warm neutral, though they spend so much time inside they tend to go more pale. Their eyes are slightly downturned and have a nice honey shade. Black messy hair for M and F Mar. While male M's hair is almost to their shoulders female M's hair is just past. They tend to always have dark circles (too much work not enough sleep). W is one of the shorter ros at 5'7. Their build is soft. Ideal for cuddles.

Isaac- Isaac is African American, Slightly upturned blue eyes (Isaac thanks their mom for that). Umber skin-toned. Isaac is built, they like to work out think athletic build. Their hair is curly and a warm black shade, in between lengths it's not short but it's not long sits to the base of their neck. Jawline that could cut glass. Somewhat sharp features. Isaac is an even 6 ft, they're more broad than tall. Isaac has several tattoos on their arm, not full sleeves.

Ardent- Ardent would tell you that his looks are the best things his parents gave him. He's Greek, with olive skin and brown eyes. His hair used to be a nice warm brown now it has a bit of grey on the edges. The length differs, he used to love to let it grow to his shoulders but the cat had other ideas. so now its just a bit short and a bit choppy. It falls to his chin, though he keeps it tucked out of the way. He's our tallest RO a nice 6'4 and broad, so broad, maybe too broad. .Hes tanky. He has scars along his forearms, and one on his lip.

#love and leases #loveandleases #asks #cam #kara #g #m #isaac #ardent #if wip #twine wip #character description

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wayhavenots · 2 months

Note

So proud of you, PD! Congratulations!

Please share with us a headcanon of any and/or all of your detectives! I love knowing about them (~agentnatesewell)

Thank you Mar ❤️❤️❤️ (for your support!!! and for indulging me!! and for always being wonderful!!!!). These turned out to be teenage/high school headcanons for some reason.

Avery fell out of a tree and broke her arm the Christmas she was ten. Captain Sung (and not Rebecca) picked her up from the hospital, and they had an awkward and mostly silent Christmas dinner at a Chinese restaurant.

Jenny was a lifeguard at the local pool during summers in high school (and my other detectives do not know how to swim lol).

Forest was on the debate team in high school. But he also had terrible anxiety about public speaking and never won or even argued a single match.

Rider was arrested for vandalizing the mayor's car when he was a teenager.

Piper (LT detective) was on track to win a huge scholarship to a music school... but she broke her arm in an incident which was maybe caused by her staring at the head cheerleader instead of looking where she was going down the stairs. Anyway. She missed the Big Important Audition and has not played cello since. :(

Dove was president of the student council.

#jenny's has been on my mind specifically bc of the mermaid ay #avery lin #jenny yang #forest rojas #rider mcqueen #dove shepherd #piper labelle

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inkformyblood · 9 months

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Picking this wip back up for spooky month 💜 (werewolf ghost x vampire soap)

“Aye.” Soap grunts with effort, his thighs flexing as he pulls himself upright. He braces himself on Ghost’s chair as he slides back into his seat, his fingers brushing against Ghost’s shoulder, a distant point of pressure that Ghost can still feel after Soap moves away. He fumbles for the seatbelt for a moment, drawing it back into place across himself before he holds up his prize in a misshapen foil packet. “Fancy a knock-off Mars Bar, LT?”

“You should eat it,” Ghost says, the refusal mostly out of habit by now. Nothing tastes quite right anymore, the flavours either various shades of grey or dialled up too high and he could feel them in his chest, digging fresh notches into his ribs.

Soap hums something noncommittal, continuing to pass the generic chocolate bar from hand to hand. The wrapper crinkles with each pass, the chocolate solidified into an odd shape, and the sound is nearly rhythmic enough for it to become nothing more than background noise. Nearly.

“Do you always play with your food?” Ghost asks.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod mw2 #johnny mactavish #Simon Riley #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #my writing

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sugaringcozy · 6 months

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Donghyuck/Haechan Natal Chart Reading - Part 2: Career, Passions and Work Life

Disclaimers:

☁️ This natal chart reading is for entertainment purposes and this is just my perspective. Take this with a grain of salt.

☁️ My intention from this reading is just to understand Donghyuck better and appreciate the person he is, where any sensitive topics come up I do not claim to know them as fact or wish to speculate.

Please do not copy my work and credit me if referencing!

Notes: I found this particular reading so interesting - Donghyuck is an incredibly gifted person and I really feel that destiny has played a huge part in his life <3

💫 Jupiter Saturn Conjunction - An incredible placement really - this basically assures you of popularity/a successful public career, or fame. The degree of this placement is SO high it’s just extraordinary, I have never seen anything like it… it is beyond rare luck. Mark has a similar placement to this and I find it so interesting, I really believe Donghyuck was destined to be famous. Combined with his Uranus in Third House - he was also blessed with a beautiful distinctive voice.

🎭 Donghyuck’s 8th house in Gemini again shows he was predestined to be naturally gifted in the arts, and would always have been recognised for his talents and achievements whether fame came in this life or not. Will always be financially rewarded for doing what he loves - we can assume this to mean he will stay in the arts and continue a successful career.

🪙 Jupiter in Taurus - Taurus the sign of fortune and Jupiter is the sign of good luck - both of these together mean Donghyuck is destined for a lot of wealth and good luck in his finances. I would say this has played out well, coming from a working class background and now being famous and successful in his early 20’s - but this luck will continue throughout his life. Also makes him good at managing his money. Taurus is also a fantastic sign for someone as ambitious as Donghyuck as it is grounding and helps him to keep his goals realistic and increases his patience. Jupiter in Taurus placement has a tendency to indulge in his pleasures, but with his financial prosperity this shouldn't be an issue. His Taurus in 6th House also shows a lot of balance between earning and spending money. I also thought Donghyuck’s Opposition between Jupiter and Ascendant/Jupiter Setting was cool because it directly references having a lot of dealings with foreigners/foreign places - I think this is probably referencing the amount he has travelled the world and the many foreign fans he has met. With his Sagittarius in second house it shows that most of his money will be made overseas (or from overseas audiences).

🛍️ With a Saturn in Taurus, Donghyuck is very grounded and humble - really positive sign for a celebrity because he is less likely to get ‘actor syndrome’ or think he is ‘too good’ to be seen in ordinary public spaces. Easy to stay relatable to people even when he has gained a lot of wealth/popularity. It also speaks of his relationship with money, which is positive. He likes his luxuries, but he is careful with money and is the type to invest well. Hyuck doesn't think of money as giving him status, no matter how rich he gets. Instead looks at money like ‘what can this money do for me? Where can I invest it well?’ and will plan well for the future. People with Saturn in Taurus also can have a tendency to worry about providing for their loved ones - I think Donghyuck thinks about his own wealth as a means to provide for his family and he likely enjoys spoiling his family with nice presents.

🤺 Gemini Sun and Mars Conjunction - As mentioned in Part 1 on his personality and mind, the incredible willpower and fierceness Donghyuck has translates into his career too. This warrior-like spirit carries him and he really fights for his dreams and his success as an idol the way a warrior does. He is incredibly resilient, brave and willing to make huge sacrifices and put up with pain just to achieve his goals. His Capricorn in Third House demonstrates this even more, showing he will deny his own needs and wishes and will even withstand pain to meet his goals each comeback.

⚔️ However, the Gemini Sun and Sagittarius Pluto Opposition shows a tension between his inner purpose/goals and being limited through relationships in some way. (His Saturn in 6th house also suggests a lot of challenges and obstacles at work.) This could be a frustration of not being allowed to pursue certain career avenues which others have - you could say it was written in the stars for him to end up in a strict company, and I also think it alludes to poor management and having his ideas or solo opportunities shut down by SM. However, it also speaks of his own work ethic - Donghyuck creates a very high standard for himself and being so busy, his attention being split between two groups, has also prevented him from taking up some career opportunities. There is also this need to control himself and always do well (enhanced by his other placements), so I think in some ways he may limit himself and be very slow to produce solo work. Combined with his Leo Moon’s pride in his ideas vs his fear of rejection, he is probably very shy with putting forward creative ideas despite having many of them as he doesn’t want to feel the pain of being turned away again and again. It is a shame because his Leo Moon - Neptune Opposition, and his Mars - Uranus Trine mean that Hyuck’s imagination and creativity is really a gift and the ideas he has are excellent.

☁️ In terms of creative decisions, Donghyuck may also struggle to commit to projects with his Pluto being in Sagittarius - he is very business savvy and knows the industry well, but he thinks too hard about where he actually wants his solo career to take him, doesn’t have a specific end goal except for ‘more success’, and may lack confidence that he can build a career without the support of his members.

🩶 Gemini Stellium means Donghyuck has a short attention span and can lose interest in most activities - but at the same time can hyperfocus on his passions like music and dance. Leo Moon in the 9th house also speaks of Donghyuck’s passions - they all come from a place of deep emotion and must be emotionally driven (this also makes sense for music and dance). It also signifies that Donghyuck needs to care about a topic on an emotional level to be able to learn and stick with it. However, when that passion is there, Hyuck’s Aries in 5th House and Scorpio in 12th demonstrate how ALL of his energy goes into it.

🦋 His Mercury being in Cancer has been extremely advantageous to his career, because it makes him very adaptable professionally and socially - his brilliance comes from here and I really feel it explains how well he is able to fit into different groups. This Sextile between Midheaven and Mercury is also super interesting to me because again it shows Hyuck is a natural at adapting professionally, with a clear reference to different responsibilities such as Donghyuck being in both Dream and 127. He is able to fit in with both groups so well, as well as give his all in both - and his social signs make him so outgoing that it makes other people feel at ease and improves workplace relationships. Also shows he has actually created many friendships between idols by introducing people to each other, and is very good at networking.

🔐In terms of his work life, his 6th house in Taurus shows he knows the industry well and keeps A LOT of secrets (about others) - things that could ruin careers. It also speaks of how trustworthy and loyal he is, although I would pay my life savings to hear this boy’s tea.

🤹 Donghyuck’s Mars in Gemini makes him incredibly well suited to being in multiple NCT units as he has a natural strength in juggling many projects and jumping between them - this is literally the best Mars sign someone in his position could have. As I mentioned he is likely to have many creative visions but is either being shut down or doesn't have the confidence to share them, however with his Mars in 7th House, Donghyuck has an incredible ability to channel his anger/frustrations with the company into further creativity if he doesn't allow himself to feel defeated. I think in the future, with a bit more confidence Hyuck could create some incredible solo projects if he can commit to his ideas.

🌊 This Gemini Mars - Aquarius Uranus Trine is interesting because it shows Hyuck has a tendency to wear himself out professionally - he needs to give himself time out or he will become too exhausted from his busy schedules to care about parts of projects he usually considers very important. Again it also shows he will fight tooth and nail for the things he is passionate about until he reaches a breaking point. His work ethic is unmatched, he is really diligent and conscientious.

🐂 Again, His Saturn being in 6th House confirms Donghyuck to be a huge workaholic - not a surprise to anyone. Also suggests lots of challenges and obstacles at work, maybe limitations or constraints, or having a heavier workload than others - I’m certain that this is talking about the immense pressure Hyuck is under from being in both 127 and Dream. People with this placement are very dedicated and reliable, so these work pressures are bearable for them, however, they have a tendency to be overworked and due to the fixed nature of Taurus, Donghyuck is unlikely to do anything about it until he is forced to stop.

☠️ Aquarius Uranus in 3rd house is also a very interesting placement for an idol, as touched upon in my last post, Hyuck does not like authority and respect is given to people he believes to be worthy. This is added to by his Square Jupiter and Uranus, making him want to break away from being told what to do and being trapped by company rules and strict routines, and his Square between Saturn and Uranus making him prioritise his freedom and self-expression. However, the fact he is living his dream as an artist and achieving his goals mean he will submit to the company’s will for the sake of harmony (his Neptune in Aquarius meaning he will always seek harmony.) However, I see this as being an indication that he is likely to break company rules where he thinks he will get away with it (lol) and I think there could be some arguments with the company which he eventually backs down from.

🌑 His Lilith in Capricorn also gives an interesting perspective on his career as it symbolises a very hard worker who will likely grow tired of rules and rigid authority as he gets older. He may start to push back against management when this time comes, or he could push for change in the industry, perhaps starting his own company.

💘 The Tenth House governs public image, professional ambitions, and career achievements. Virgo in 10th shows Donghyuck is really careful and detail oriented when it comes to work, explaining why he is so obsessive with practice. Again I think he may create his own company in the future or work as a mentor or instructor, as Virgos are typically drawn to helping/doing jobs and his other signs require sociability and competitiveness in his job. Virgo in 10th house also shows someone who just simply loves their craft - Donghyuck just loves music and performing, and his job would always have entailed music or dance in some way.

Thank you for reading, I hope it was interesting! ☁️ 💖

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