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"Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time."
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lost in the forest
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: falling in love like being lured into a forest, love is not the cure to loneliness, you made me love you...now what??
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
- 'Forest', Carol Ann Duffy
[FILL] lost in the forest
Major Tags: self-esteem issues, allusions to depression, ambiguous ending
Additional Tags: love is lonely
Permission to remix: please ask
***
Love is not easy, Seokmin has come to realize. For all that he is full to the brim with it.
It looks soft. Like shy smiles over a smoky bar, and the press of a hot mouth against the neck while pinned against the wall in the alleyway outside. Hands moving syrupy slow over the aching expanse of the chest.
But it’s not soft. Love sinks sharp, wicked hooks through the tenderest parts of a person. Digs deep until the feelings become fused to the bone, liquid through veins. The vapor of breath. Inextricable. Unable to be exorcised. Even when it starts to hurt.
Especially when it starts to hurt.
|
“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, face exhausted. “Seokmin, I love you, I do, but you keep acting like I’m one step out the door. Sometimes I think you’re chasing me out.”
He touches your cheek. There are tears brimming in his eyes, spilling over, and you feel that familiar mix of drowning love and helpless confusion as you wipe them away. The urge to comfort and the frustration of not knowing how.
You don’t know where things went wrong. Even now, even after all this time, being in a partnership — being with someone else who wants you as much as you want them, who is able to take the endless pour of your affection and return it— is foreign. Something you have had to learn, like a bird just starting to fly. Even if it means hurting yourself.
Have you fallen out of the nest altogether already? Is your neck broken, wing bent? You’re not sure; you just know you want him, and you want him to want to stay.
“What will it take for you to understand I’m not looking for ways to leave you?” he asks, and gathers you close. “What will it take for you to love me back enough to trust me with that?”
You wish you had an answer.
|
Mingyu was never supposed to last. Seokmin remembers that much.
It was a night like any other, haunting the local bar. Seokmin was too exhausted to do much more than nurse a beer, but he stood at a ratty tabletop and watched as strangers pressed together in the small space, patterned lights playing over faces ducked together, cheeks flushed with alcohol and anticipation. He stood there and watched life move on around him, little stories unfolding in everyone’s lives, as his own stayed still.
Work, broken appointments with distant friends, alcohol. Rinse, repeat. Seokmin was not new to loneliness, but on nights like this, he was exhausted of it. He wanted to know when it was his turn to be story, watched by someone else living a frozen life.
And then: a man.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a simple tshirt and jeans, a chain around his neck and a jacket over his shoulders. He was handsome — almost distractingly so — but Seokmin worked in the arts. He wasn’t swayed by looks.
There…was an expression on this man’s face. Under the pleasant, polite friendliness. Something searching, something bored. Something tired and uncertain.
Something lonely, too.
Their eyes caught, and Seokmin felt the absurd urge to smile, so full-bodied he could feel his body lean into it. It felt like being drugged, the tilt of his world on its axis, the dizzying sense of being thrown into something new. A sickness in his stomach, even as his breath caught.
Instead of looking at him like he was crazy, the man smiled back.
They ended up talking, and Seokmin learned the man’s name was Kim Mingyu, that they were the same age and had mutual friends, and enough similar interests to have interesting conversations. Seokmin was so unused to the novelty of laughing honestly with strangers. Being seen by them, and seeing them back. He learned that Mingyu liked to be liked, too, just like Seokmin, but that he didn’t seem to have to work half as hard at it. Warm smiles, an endearing lisp. The drowning dark of his eyes, the curiosity and interest in them. Seokmin felt scalded by the heat there. Flattered.
Enough to take Mingyu’s hand and lead him to the alleyway and ask to kiss him.
Mingyu laughed, and before Seokmin could feel hurt break through the strange boldness that had taken hold, there was a hand cradling the back of his head and a pair of lips slanted over his own.
Mingyu kissed very well, with a single-minded focus and a genuine enjoyment. He made little sounds that prickled sweat at Seokmin’s temples, and his hands slipped in Seokmin’s back pockets to tug their hips closer, a move that felt fairly suave for someone who’d ten minutes ago knocked the entire tabletop over.
More than that, Mingyu kissed like Seokmin never even had to ask. Like this was how everything was going to end up the moment they locked eyes. It wasn’t like the few times in Seokmin’s life that he’d hooked up with others, desperation and sadness warring in his chest waiting for the inevitable goodbye or rejection once the physical part was over.
It didn’t feel — like playing a part.
It felt real.
They kissed some more, till Seokmin’s lips were swollen and his head was swimming. Still seized by that courage that came from feeling he was in a liminal space, Seokmin asked if Mingyu wanted to come over and spend the night. Mingyu gave a small, half-smile and said, “Next time.”
Mingyu asked him to write his phone number down on the back of the bar receipt and dragged his knuckles along to the side of Seokmin’s face, a gentle gesture that tightened Seokmin’s chest, before he promised to call.
Seokmin didn’t really expect him to, but it was a nice sentiment. A sweet moment. Something that would make a perfectly good memory, next time at the next bar, alone again and wondering if it was worth wanting to be anything other than that anyway.
Mingyu did call, though.
And he kept calling. Enough for Seokmin to forget himself, and the patterns he’d learned to see like augury.
Enough for him to follow Mingyu where he was leading, into a collection of trees that reached towards the sky, thick with leaves and dappled with sun, redolent and alive. A new world, hushed and quiet, just Mingyu’s voice, his hands, the way he made Seokmin feel.
What happens is this.
Eventually, that green space, the hole Seokmin had begun to dig like a fox for its den, is all that’s left.
And Seokmin is stuck there with no way out.
|
“You’re so funny,” he says. His eyes are lit from within. He giggles with you, leans into your body with an ease you envy. His laughter is less loud maybe, but not restrained. He doesn’t look at you like you’re an idiot, or a joke.
Sometimes it’s that easy, you think, staring at the sunset melt over his face, feeling the grounding weight of his hand in yours.
Sometimes it’s that easy to fall in love.
|
A lesson—
Just because something is where you are, where you live, doesn’t mean it’s home.
When home is a person, and that person is gone, well.
What then?
|
You get a note, in the end.
I love you, it reads. I think we need some time. I’ll be back. I promise.
Days bleed into weeks. You keep reading the words, and thinking about that promise.
More than anything else, you’re mad that a small part of you still believes.
|
Sometimes, love is hate.
It’s the resentment that burns so easily under Seokmin’s easy smiles when friends ask if he’s okay.
It’s the anger whenever he looks at old pictures, old texts. The lingering little 1 next to his last message to Mingyu, a plaintive Why did you ever fucking ask for my number in the first place?
It’s the way his heart beats so fast, so loud in his ears and his hands and feet, when he tries to sleep in the bed where he and Mingyu tangled up together, bodies moving together like a song and a fight, beautiful but just shy of violent.
It’s the corrosive way the memories live in Seokmin now, eating away at everything he knows to be true, the sense of self it took years to build and only twelve months to disintegrate under the force of Mingyu’s tongue in Seokmin’s mouth.
Love is being unmade, over and over, cell by cell by cell.
And all the while, he smiles like there’s not blood on his teeth.
|
“This kind of thing is hard for me,” you admit one night, the moonlight streaming in through an open window. The summer breeze is lush, and his skin is hot under your hands. “Letting things be. Being in love.”
“What are you talking about,” he asks, voice gentle. “Loving comes easier to you than anyone I know.”
You want to tell him that’s not true. That you give all these pieces of yourself, but underneath every grace, every kindness, every funny comment, is a mind teeming with questions. With second guesses. With wants that you’re not sure how to articulate.
“Not really,” you say instead, and laugh because that’s just what you do.
His fingers trace the lines of your smile, and he frowns, troubled. “Okay,” he says. “We’ll work on it.”
It strikes you:
You’ve never been on a team before.
|
Perhaps the worst thing is that Seokmin never had to hide the cruelest parts of himself with Mingyu. He couldn’t. Mingyu was a mirror as much as he was a window, reflecting all the same petty hurts and that shameful gut-wrenching desire for love, sharing the insecurities and the ennui, meeting Seokmin sly comment for sly comment, pushing him to be honest, even when honesty felt ugly.
And he showed Seokmin possibilities.
A life where someone as handsome as Mingyu did not settle for someone like Seokmin, awkward and lean, eyes oddly alive and nose overly long, a study in too much and not enough, so much as he ushered a new Seokmin into existence. In some ways, Seokmin was Pygmalion’s statue, recrafted into something even his own anxious self-flagellation could not endanger.
Someone beautiful, because Mingyu liked beautiful things, and liking Seokmin meant Seokmin was beautiful.
Someone who didn’t want to stand on the fringes of some dank bar anymore, even if the potential of wading through the crowd was so embarrassing it sometimes took Seokmin’s breath away. Because if Mingyu was there to be embarrassed beside him, then it couldn’t be so bad.
Someone who didn’t drown himself in trying to care for others, because for the first time, he was being taken care of, too.
So, yes. This is the worst part: Mingyu came into his life, reframed the very axis of his world, and then…
He left.
And leaving is one thing. People leave. They do. They have.
But does the Seokmin that Mingyu loved into life still exist, without him? And if that Seokmin doesn’t exist anymore, who is it now, heart ripped in his chest, throat scraped raw with unshed tears, that throws away a pile of sweaters and an old pair of Prada sunglasses?
Who is it?
|
“You were good with him,” is what your noona says, when she comes to visit. “But you weren’t good because of him. There’s a difference, Seokminnie. I hope you see it.”
You’re trying. You’re trying.
|
Mingyu might not answer his texts, but he’s still a trail that Seokmin follows, unable to stop.
Maybe this, too, is love: something that continues whether it’s convenient or not. A land a person can get lost in, if they let themselves. Going in circles with no clear destination except the past.
Mingyu posts pictures on his SNS, old black and white photos of Seokmin like letters without words. There are no captions, but the pictures show up without fail, regardless of comments and likes.
Seokmin looks at these updates, and each one feels like Mingyu’s kimchi stew made fresh after a long day at work, or the pleasure of coming back to find a household repair.
Acts of service. Small ways for Mingyu to take care of him from afar.
Maybe Seokmin is delusional. He scrolls anyway.
In one, Seokmin sees the familiar angles of his profile, framed by a halo of light. He’s sitting next to the bedroom window, staring out at the Seoul morning skyline. His hair is messy, and he’s wearing one of Mingyu’s sweatshirts. He thinks he might be crying — a particularly poignant newspaper article or something equally stupid, but Mingyu’s captured the glimmer of sticky tears in a loving play of shadows. It’s not voyeuristic so much as reverent. Seokmin’s cheeks gleam, and his collarbones look delicate, and his eyes are luminous.
This picture feels like stepping into a dreamscape. Another life, where he can see himself, in fits and starts, through Mingyu’s eyes.
Seokmin sinks into the picture, into that dreamscape. Into whatever Mingyu is trying to show him, tell him.
Even if that’s just — himself, shining back.
|
The doorbell buzzes.
You know what’s on the other side of the door, but at the same time, you don’t.
You open it anyway.
Re: [FILL] lost in the forest
But does the Seokmin that Mingyu loved into life still exist, without him? And if that Seokmin doesn’t exist anymore, who is it now, heart ripped in his chest, throat scraped raw with unshed tears, that throws away a pile of sweaters and an old pair of Prada sunglasses?
this is soooo good like the idea that someone has made you better or different, but then what happens when they leave, who is the 'you' that is left behind ahhh I adore this thank you for the fill!!
Re: [FILL] lost in the forest
[FILL] at your altar
Major Tags: only slightly implied mcd, it’s open-ended (i think).
Additional Tags: mythology references, magical elements, witch/hunter dynamic, magical manipulation?, unreliable narrator?, unbalanced power dynamics, (slightly dogboy mingyu? if you think along the lines of pavlov’s dogs lol), open/ambiguous?
Permission to remix: Yes
a/n: some gyuhan for ally! this took a life of its own; idk how much sense it makes, but i hope you enjoy! any mistakes are my own and i apologize. wc 1388.
***
This story could have begun one of two ways: the hunter finds the prey, or the hunter becomes the prey.
Mingyu does not care about either of those. For him, the story began when he first saw Jeonghan, standing waist-deep in the river, the current parting around his waist like a billowing skirt. His blond hair sweeps around the globes of his shoulders. Mingyu is rooted, unable to move.
Jeonghan — no, the man. At this point, Mingyu does not yet know his name. He soon will, though, and it will be the only name his mouth will ever worship.
The man turns around. His eyes are green, like the forest around them, like wilderness. In the hollow of his throat rests a crescent moon. Silver bows and arrows drip from his earlobes. When he smiles, Mingyu feels weightless.
“Kim Mingyu,” the man says, voice lilting. “Welcome.”
Dumbly, Mingyu nods. He still can’t move. The man smiles wider, and starts walking up the banks of the river. Instinctively, Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut. The man chuckles.
“Oh darling,” a voice murmurs over his shoulder. Mingyu jumps, eyes flying open. The man comes into view from behind his right shoulder. “You needn’t worry about that.”
He smiles again, indulgent, as though he were looking at a particularly cute child. Secrets shine from his eyes. Mingyu wants to know every single one of them. The man’s eyes warm, as though he knows.
“Come,” the man says, voice like velvet. His hair grazes Mingyu’s cheek as he sweeps by, fully dressed this time. “Aren’t you curious to know more?”
Finally unfrozen, Mingyu scrambles after him. Farther away on the banks of the river, tucked between two large oak trees, is a wooden hut Mingyu hadn’t noticed before. The man walks up the porch and pushes open the door.
“Welcome,” he says again, cryptically, “to your new home.”
Maybe Mingyu should be afraid, but he only follows, unthinkingly, like a compass arrow faithfully following north.
-
Mingyu learns that the man’s name is Jeonghan, and that he’s a witch. He scoffs in response. Something about this blatantly outlandish claim makes him feel more at ease.
“Oh please,” he snickers, sauntering around the space, taking in the jars on the shelves, the mortar and pestle, the wooden table and benches. “Witches don’t exist, do they? What else have you got? A cauldron?
“I’m telling you,” he says, lifting a finger sagely, “I’ve been hunting in this forest my whole life, and I’ve never seen a witch, so—”
He spins around. Jeonghan is a hairbreadth’s distance away from his face. He jerks in shock, takes a step back. Jeonghan’s mouth tilts up.
“Oh really,” Jeonghan says. There’s something taunting in his voice. “Watch, then.”
A flick of his wrist, and a thin knife materializes between his long fingers. Mingyu’s eyes widen, fixed on the thin blade. Jeonghan looks smug. The expression is horridly elegant on his face.
In an effort to calm himself, Mingyu laughs through his nose. “Sleight of hand,” he dismisses, walking around the table, attempting nonchalance, sliding onto a wooden bench. “Anybody who practices enough could do that. You had it up your sleeve, didn’t you?”
Jeonghan smiles. His teeth gleam, catching on the sunlight through the window panes. There’s a sliver of danger in it. Between one blink and the next, he vanishes, and Mingyu feels the silver kiss of a blade at his throat.
“Oh really,” he says again, behind Mingyu this time. There’s laughter in his voice. “Do you want to see what else I’ve got up my sleeve then?”
Mingyu goes rigidly, sudden adrenaline coursing through his veins. Jeonghan’s face becomes visible in his periphery. He’s smiling still, horrifically beautiful. His hair is golden in the sunlight.
“Ignorance is not always bliss, my darling,” Jeonghan whispers, and the blade digs in harder. Mingyu flinches involuntarily, eyes squeezed shut. Jeonghan laughs softly, breath tickling Mingyu’s cheek. “I could do so much to you, and no one would know, hm?”
Mingyu trembles. His breath quivers between his lips. The blade breaks skin. Mingyu feels the sting like a shock of lightning, his eyes flying open. Blood trickles down his neck, hot and thick. Jeonghan’s eyes flick down.
“Would you?” Mingyu rasps, voice hoarse. All of his earlier bravado has morphed into something else, something that burns low in his gut. Interest and surprise flicker in Jeonghan’s eyes.
“Fascinating,” Jeonghan says, lifting the knife from Mingyu’s neck. “I’ve never met one that submits so easily.” He flicks the blade to the side, and reaches a finger to collect the blood from Mingyu’s neck. The red gleams like a ruby shard on his finger. Whatever he sees in Mingyu’s blood, it makes Jeonghan smile.
“I think I might keep you.” With that, Jeonghan’s knees hit the floor. A warm cloth materializes, and he cleans the cut he just made with dizzying tenderness. Mingyu doesn’t know what he’s supposed to think.
“Don’t,” Jeonghan murmurs, standing up, a finger trailing Mingyu’s jaw. “Don’t think.”
Mingyu flinches, eyes finding Jeonghan’s. Violation, he thinks. Jeonghan laughs.
“Darling, you’ve already given yourself to me,” he says, delighted. “Every part of you is mine. There is no violation.”
“Sleep.”
Mingyu does.
-
Kim Mingyu wakes up in love with Yoon Jeonghan.
He’s in a bed, quilt embroidered with flowers thrown over his figure. There’s sunlight through a window above the bedside table to his left. He feels pleasantly drowsy.
“You’re awake,” a voice says to his right. Mingyu rolls over and comes face to face with Jeonghan, who smiles at him warmly. Mingyu melts against him. This is right, he thinks. This is where I should be. This is home.
“That’s right.” Jeonghan’s voice is soothing. His smile is as bright as the morning sun. His eyes are emerald shards. “You love me.”
“I love you.” Jeonghan’s hand curls around his nape and squeezes. Mingyu goes boneless and weightless, like he’s on the moon. Over the moon.
Lips kiss his forehead. Mingyu’s eyes sliver open to see the crescent moon charm, dangling from the altar of Jeonghan’s throat, swaying in front of his face. Jeonghan’s voice is lilting when he says: “I love you too.”
-
Mingyu gets to love him for another year. During it, he does work around the house for Jeonghan, prepping ingredients, mixing oils, foraging plants, occasionally hunting game. Each time he does well, Jeonghan will award him with a kiss, and then he’ll walk away, never to linger, and Mingyu will follow, an arrow pointing loyally north, until he’s given a new set of instructions, and a new kiss to be earned.
Sometimes Jeonghan lets him try one of his mixtures, fragrant and fresh. They always make something bloom in his chest.
“How do you feel?” Jeonghan will ask, pushing back his hair, something like fondness in his gaze.
“Like I love you,” Mingyu will reply, semi-automatically, because that gets him the beaming smile and the kiss, and nothing else pleases him more.
“My best guinea pig,” Jeonghan will chuckle, and Mingyu will laugh with him. Anything Jeonghan finds funny, so does he.
-
The year goes by like that. One day, Jeonghan sits him down after giving him a dose of a mixture he’d been working on.
“Mingyu-yah,” he says, hands cupping Mingyu’s face, “how much do you love me?”
“To the moon and back,” Mingyu answers automatically, waiting for the kiss that’s supposed to follow.
The kiss doesn’t follow. Instead, Jeonghan’s thumb brushes over his lips gently, like he’s something precious. His eyes are soft.
“Would you die for me?” Jeonghan asks, his face open, the moon dripping from his throat. His bow and arrow earrings swing gently, glinting in the waning afternoon sun.
“Of course,” Mingyu replies, confused, still waiting for the kiss. “I’d do anything.”
“Excellent,” Jeonghan says. “Wonderful, Mingyu-yah.”
He finally kisses Mingyu, roughly, passionately. Mingyu burns in it.
Jeonghan’s hands slide down the column of his neck, trace around his adam’s apple. His thumbs dig in lightly.
When he pulls back, his lips are blood red and bruised. He’s grinning. Mingyu feels dizzy at the sight.
“Thank you,” Jeonghan whispers, hands tightening. “Sleep.”
Mingyu sleeps.
This story may begin two ways, but it can only end in one: the hunter becomes the prey. After all, the goddess Artemis takes them all.
Re: [FILL] at your altar
and your prose!! I could scream about every line but some that truly gave me goosebumps:
- At this point, Mingyu does not yet know his name. He soon will, though, and it will be the only name his mouth will ever worship.
HELLO??!?!?!?!? OH MY GOD
- When he smiles, Mingyu feels weightless.
HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME
- He’s smiling still, horrifically beautiful.
HORRIFICALLY BEAUTIFUL THAT'S SOOOO GOOOOOD
- Kim Mingyu wakes up in love with Yoon Jeonghan.
full. body. shiver.
- Mingyu’s eyes sliver open to see the crescent moon charm, dangling from the altar of Jeonghan’s throat, swaying in front of his face.
This moment is so evocative and cinematic I can SEE it, I can see the crescent moon charm, and also "altar of Jeonghan's throat" are you INSANE how can you just say WORDS LIKE THESE
and then the last line, circling back to the opening...... LITERALLY I HAVE GOOSEBUMPS this is beautiful thank you for this gift!!!!!!
Re: [FILL] at your altar
[REMIX] break my heart for what breaks yours
Major Tags: Many Character Deaths, animal hunting + butchering
Additional Tags: same AU same tags + unrequited love conga line
Permission to remix: Yes
You said it was an open ending but when I read it there was only one ending and it went like this (2.2k):
***Mingyu is in love with Jeonghan. He’s in love with Jeonghan’s blond hair and smooth skin and bright eyes and red lips that pepper kisses on his forehead. Mingyu will go to the moon and back for him, and if Jeonghan asked, Mingyu would lay down and die for him.
Home is with Jeonghan, and Jeonghan knows best. He feeds Mingyu the best vegetables from his garden and always gives him the first taste of his latest brew. He cares about what Mingyu thinks about his creations, and Mingyu is only too glad to savour every drink and ponder over each feeling that blooms in his chest.
One day Jeonghan crosses his legs and beckons with his fingers. Mingyu strides over and drops to one knee.
“How may I help?”
Jeonghan smiles, “What’s for dinner Mingyu?”
Mingyu pauses, he was going to prepare the usual, “Stew and sourdough — was there something you had in mind?”
“It’s lacking a little substance,” Jeonghan hums, “Some meat perhaps. I am in the mood for rabbit.”
“Rabbit?” Mingyu blinks, “We don’t have rabbit.”
“Ahh, you’re so silly,” Jeonghan pokes him in the shoulder, “Mingyu, there are rabbits in the forest. And you’re good with a knife aren’t you?”
And Mingyu indeed, feels very silly and stupid. He is very good with a knife. He’s also very good with bows and arrows and other martial weapons. He’ll hunt down a rabbit for Jeonghan for dinner.
The meat is simmering in the vegetable stock, and Mingyu can still hear the frantic squeals ringing in his ears. He had found rabbit tracks by the river and followed the trail into the forest. Had spied a pair in the undergrowth and stalked the animal until he had a clear shot.
His first arrow pierced one in the leg and it released a shrieking cry, scampering away with a leg that sprayed blood across the soil. The other rabbit jumped and bolted, but immediately returned, running in desperate circles.
When Mingyu stood before them, the healthy rabbit did not move, and stood stoic over its collapsed partner. It stared up at Mingyu, and it’s clear, round eyes seemed to say, I will not let them die alone. Or perhaps it was —
I cannot live without them.
Whatever it was, Mingyu felt like it was a look he understood. From human to animal, empathy passed.
When Mingyu broke their necks and silenced the forest, all he could think about was Jeonghan’s happy smile and soft kisses.
The squeals rang in his ears as he skinned the carcass, blood running down his arms. It rang as he scraped the meat off the bone and cracked the joints into the broth. The sound continued to ring until Jeonghan bent over his shoulder, soft hair tickling Mingyu’s cheek, nose sniffing.
“That smells delicious! I can’t wait.” Jeonghan’s fingers ruffled Mingyu’s hair, “You did so well, just as I expected.”
Mingyu’s heart bloomed with pride. The noise cleared from his mind and he felt satisfied, accomplished, beloved.
After dinner, Jeonghan moved his chair so that he was next to Mingyu. Mingyu’s skin burned where their knees touched and he yearned to move even closer, so that he could feel more of Jeonghan against himself.
Jeonghan smiled and Mingyu watched the movement of those lips, wishing that he could feel their touch.
“There’s something important I want you to do for me,” Jeonghan tilts his head, “It’s a bit complicated but I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Yes, anything,” Mingyu replied immediately, back straight and ears open, eager to please.
Jeonghan’s eyes glittered.
“Mingyu? Is that you? Kim Mingyu?” a voice echoed across the courtyard, “Yah! Mingyu, where have you been, the whole palace has been looking for you—”
“Oh thank the gods, wait until —”
“Someone go and tell —”
There’s a flurry of movement all at once. Someone runs away, someone runs towards him and Mingyu is knocked back when a man barrels into him with open arms.
“You came back!” the man yelled into his ear, “Where were you.”
“I’m back,” Mingyu says, his mind supplies a name, “Seokmin.”
Seokmin lets out a choked sob and buries his face in Mingyu’s shoulder, “I was so worried, you just left and never came back and we weren’t sure if something happened to you or if you went over to the other side or if you were stuck somewhere waiting for us to —”
“Hey hey,” Mingyu pats Seokmin’s back, the motion comes easily to him, he wants to bend down and rub their foreheads together, the action feels halfway between a memory and a habit, like a play well-rehearsed. So he does exactly that and Seokmin’s mouth wobbles further.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Mingyu comforts, “How about you walk me to my room and we can catch up later?”
“What were you doing for a whole year?” Seokmin asks, “Oh, you’ll have to tell —”
“Later,” Mingyu says, rubbing Seokmin’s shoulder “Later.”
Mingyu knows why he’s here and he knows Jeonghan knows best but still, it hurts to be away from him for so long. He knows he must be patient but he can only think about Jeonghan’s smile, waiting for him after it all.
“You absolutely can’t remember anything?” a voice came from beside him. Mingyu looked over, it’s one of the court dancers, Minghao. Something in his chest flutters, like a warm breeze, but then his mind whirls back to Jeonghan, Jeonghan.
“Not much,” Mingyu lies, “I get flashes here and there, but it just feels out of reach. But I feel fine, just like my old self”
Minghao looked at him sideways, “You’re different though, to before.”
Before? What does Minghao mean, by before?.
Minghao continues, “Maybe you should visit the priests though, just in case. This doesn’t feel natural, maybe it’s something the gods have done.”
“Why are you here?” Mingyu asks, cutting through the conversation. He has something to do.
Minghao’s eyebrows furrow briefly, almost a wince. But his face smooths over again, “His highness will see you now, if you may.” Minghao steps aside, sweeping an arm out toward the open door.
Mingyu nods his head, “after you.”
“Kim Mingyu, in the flesh.”
“Seungcheol,” Mingyu breathes out. It’s Choi Seungcheol, his liege, his commander. If Minghao made his heart warm, Seungcheol sets it on fire. Mingyu wants to smile, he wants to leap forwards and capture him in a hug.
You can, a voice whispers, I allow you to.
Mingyu runs forward and Seungcheol meets him halfway. Mingyu squeezes so tightly he feels his back strain and his ribs tense. Seungcheol's hand cups the nape of his neck and Mingyu feels grounded, comforted, real.
"I'm so glad to see you," Seungcheol whispers, "When you disappeared without a word, I didn't know what to think."
Mingyu steps back, "I'm sorry, I know. There's a long story." His hand moves to the jug tied to his waist, “We should sit down."
“What is that?”
“Can’t come home without bearing gifts, you know me,” Mingyu grins, “Spiced wine from a trader’s fair in the south. Almost had to trade my horse but luckily the merchant accepted leather.”
Seungcheol laughs, guiding Mingyu to a seat, “So that’s where your armour went?”
Mingyu scratches his head sheepishly as he sets out two goblets on the table between them, unstopping the wine and pouring them two generous servings, “they were old anyway, I’ll get new ones refitted tomorrow. But first, let’s toast.”
“I know you, and you know me well,” Seungcheol grabs a goblet and raises it to the ceiling, “to your return, Mingyu, and to the damn-good story you’re going to tell me.”
“You better down the drink Seungcheol,” Mingyu picks up his own goblet, “Slow drinkers ride slow horses.”
Seungcheol scoffs with a smile, but they click their drinks and as Seungcheol moves the cup, he throws a wink at Mingyu over the rim and then he's throwing his head back in the way Mingyu knows so well.
As Seungcheol gulps down the wine, Mingyu watches, watches as the peak of his throat bob with every swallow. Good, very good. The wine is sweet and tart on his tongue but all Mingyu can taste is Jeonghan's kiss, Jeonghan's smile.
Seungcheol finishes his drink first with a satisfied smack, "Bloody fine wine this is, pour me another and get started on your story."
"Perhaps I would be better suited to tell it," a lilting voice carried from the window.
Seungcheol spins around "Who -"
It’s Jeonghan, elegant and backlight by the moon. He steps forward and floats to the floor, his wispy robes fluttering around him like a thousand butterfly wings.
"Remember me, Cheollie."
"Jeonghan," Seungcheol gasps, his hand bolts to the sword by his side, legs already in a battle stance. "GUARDS," he bellows.
"Oh, they won't be coming," Jeonghan states, "no one will."
"What?" Seungcheol exclaims, "Why - what did you do."
"I didn't do anything," Jeonghan strides forward until he was next to Mingyu, "It was all Mingyu, wasn't it."
"Yes Jeonghan," Mingyu answers. He had done what Jeonghan wanted him to, and poured the contents of certain vials into the palace drinking wells. It was very hard! He had to find it in the dark.
"Good boy," Jeonghan purrs, "Well done."
Mingyu's heart soars. He's a good boy, Jeonghan said so! The time spent apart was worth it because Jeonghan is happy with him.
"What did you do to my people Jeonghan," Seungcheol hisses, "What did you do to Mingyu."
"Your people," Jeonghan scoffs, "You should ask instead, what I have gained. Your people are my people now. I have an army that will die for me."
"You can not force my men to bend to your nefarious will."
"There's no forcing around here, isn't that right, Mingyu?"
Mingyu nods earnestly. Jeonghan is always right. But he’s getting confused with all this back and forth. What was done to him?
“How do you feel?” Jeonghan asks him, fingers curling through his hair.
“Like I love you,” Mingyu replies — and like all the times before, this gives him a beaming smile and a kiss. Except this time Jeonghan’s head does not turn when he kisses Mingyu’s forehead. His eyes are on Seungcheol.
"I am very kind," Jeonghan says, "you will find this is an army that loves me. They will gladly do what I say, and servitude will be the source of their own contentment."
"There is no honour in your methods," Seungcheol spits out, "I am the only one you want, there is no need to involve my men. What happened on Aeaea was only between us.”
“No need,” Jeonghan threw his head back and laughed, “When you sailed after making so many sweet promises? No need to involve your men? What is yours will be mine.”
“I did not promise you anything beyond what was already in the past,” Seungcheol says, “I was never yours Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan strides forwards, “You will be mine, Seungcheol. In fact, you already are.”
“No,” Seungcheol looks at the jug on the table, the empty goblet. Mingyu sees the moment Seungcheol’s eyes change, harden.
“Yes,” Jeonghan raises his hand towards Seungcheol, “Come to me, Cheollie.”
Seungcheol is still, and then slowly, he takes a step towards Jeonghan.
“Yes!” Jeonghan exclaims, “You love me now.”
Mingyu can hear the glee in Jeonghan’s voice. But there’s another voice inside him, one that says no, no. And deeper then, is another voice, one he can not hear.
“I … love…you,” Seungcheol drawls, shuffling towards Jeonghan.
No. Mingyu knows Seungcheol.
No. Mingyu loves Jeonghan.
And Mingyu said that he would —
Mingyu starts bolting across the room before anyone moves. He is behind Jeonghan just as Seungcheol moves his hand and he is pushing Jeonghan away just as Seungcheol brings the dagger up and deep into his chest.
Seungcheol’s beautiful eyes widen, “No. Mingyu, no!” His hand jolt open and he grabs Mingyu’s shoulders, “No no no, Mingyu, not you.”
Strange, Mingyu does not feel pain. But he does feel sleepy. His knees buckle and he feels an arm curl around his back.
Seungcheol whips to Jeonghan, “Save him.”
Jeonghan sounds stunned, “Impossible, I saw you drink. That was my strongest concoction.”
“Save him, Hannie, damn it!”
“I can’t,” Jeonghan stammers, “I don’t, I never —”
Mingyu is gently lowered down to the floor. His eyes are heavy so he closes them. He can hear Seungcheol’s foot stomping and Jeonghan’s choked gasp.
“Cheollie - please,” Jeonghan wheezes, “You love me, don’t you?”
“I did, once,” Seungcheol’s voice is hard, “I do not now. Love potions and erotic spells won’t work on a child of Aphrodite.”
Jeonghan sucks in a breath, “No. Back on Aenea —”
“I’m sorry, I could not tell you. It was my curse.”
“For me to fall in love with you?” Jeonghan laughs, “Was any of Aenea real?”
“That’s why I left,” Seungcheol says sadly, “It was not fair.”
“You loved me though?”
“I loved you,” Seungcheol affirms, “So I will make this painless.”
Mingyu hears the swish of a sword, and the soft crumble of a body. He feels the floor vibrate under his fingers and he wants to reach out, to feel a touch, the warm press of soft lips, the curve of a smile ready to spill praise. But Mingyu is so, so tired.
The last thing he feels are lips on his forehead, and then, he sinks into silence and darkness.
Re: [REMIX] break my heart for what breaks yours
SEUNGCHEOL CHILD OF APHRODITE. i love how you took the implication that jeonghan had snared multiple others before and ran with it and seungcheol and this whole twist was the result. so cool. op your brain! also, i’m curious: what happened on Aeaea? any connection to circe and odysseus?
also the repetition of “jeonghan knows best” (*sings mother knows best under my breath*) and the hints of dogboyisms re: He had done what Jeonghan wanted him to, and poured the contents of certain vials into the palace drinking wells. It was very hard! He had to find it in the dark. this made me chuckle haha.
and the final twist!!! i had to reread it several times before my brain caught up. did mingyu do it on his own or did jeonghan make him! also this: Seungcheol whips to Jeonghan, “Save him.” / Jeonghan sounds stunned, “Impossible, I saw you drink. That was my strongest concoction.” it’s interesting how sc’s demand was that jeonghan save mg, but jh’s first response was that it’s impossible sc wasn’t under his spell, implying that mg was never his first priority. so cold and godlike. AHHH. op thank u so much for this remix. it’s brilliant and you’ve added so many layers to this plot and world!!
Re: [REMIX] break my heart for what breaks yours
yes aeaea!! I wanted to drop a location bc I love that trope ("just like budapest") and I wanted that connection to circe because witch x hero parallels to jeonghan x seungcheol. In my head it was a similar story, witch falls in love with hero, tries to get him to stay until hero realises he has a true love back home. but the situation with jeongcheol is complicated by the fact Seungcheol is cursed as a child of aphrodite (mini helen) and jeonghan's own love may not have been 100% genuine, ahhh, I had thoughts but left it ambiguous because it's fun thinking of ways to fill the gaps painfully :')
I LOVED the pov of bewitched dogboy Mingyu, that was also so fun to write and came so easily. happy 17hols <3
Re: [REMIX] break my heart for what breaks yours
It is so cool how you handled the remix - it felt like layering, with the addition of seungcheol + references to whole other lives and stories that complement the original plot and characters. You both did such a great job with the fantasy world-building. Mingyu looked over, it’s one of the court dancers, Minghao. Something in his chest flutters, like a warm breeze, but then his mind whirls back to Jeonghan, Jeonghan. you know this made me go bananas hahahah. A hint of gyuhao which might've once been possible but has since been smothered by jeonghan's meddling triangulation crimes? DELICIOUS. The allusions to a Circe-esque jeongcheol backstory are super enticing too... selfishly I am hoping there are more and more remixes in this universe. Entranced!Mingyu's POV was one of my favorite parts. It's so jarring to feel his detachment toward his previous life... also of course Mingyu's heart soars. He's a good boy, Jeonghan said so! The puppy-isms!! Yes!!
Excited always to read your writing. Thank you for sharing this!!
Re: [FILL] at your altar