LAVENDER BLOOD || PARK SEONGHWA

LAVENDER BLOOD || PARK SEONGHWA

“you didn’t cheat death, y/n l/n

you only brought me closer.”

ateez modern day mythology AU — seonghwa love interest

pairing: gn!reader x god of death!seonghwa

genre: fic. angst, fluff, smut, etc

overall fic warnings: mature themes, foul language. mentions of death and scenes that include such acts. religion. modern day mythology retelling with a twist, this fic will include such details from well-known and maybe not too known storylines from those time periods. forced marriage. mentions of mental health, most specifically eating disorders and PTSD.

as i continue writing, this will be updated.

permanent taglist: @girlsbyaespa

ask to be ( + ) or ( - ) to either my permanent taglist or this fic only.

OVERALL: i am in no way claiming this to be an accurate representation of ateez/seonghwa or any of the other people i mention in my works—everything is strictly fictional and made to be read and enjoyed. they are merely reference characters. i am also in no way glamorizing or romanticizing anything i mention in my works such as toxic behavior and bodily harm, i won’t tolerate seeing such either. with such said, please don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts!

word count: 1,058

next

INTRO / PROLOGUE

Keep reading

CHAPTER TWO — UNWANTED HOUSEGUEST

lavender blood || park seonghwa

pairing: gn!reader x god of death!seonghwa

word count: 1,713

prev .. next

taglist ( ask to be + or - )

@vemarkciraptor @girlsbyaespa @storminacloud @etrnalhwa @mingiholic @sugarrimajins @gemjimin @alanniys @teezers99 @bobrouxsky @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @actuallyalien @jackinmyarea @honey-lemon-goose @spicyduck13 @seonghwarizon

i am in no way claiming this to be an accurate representation of ateez/seonghwa or any of the other people i mention in my works—everything is strictly fictional and made to be read and enjoyed. they are merely reference characters. i am also in no way glamorizing or romanticizing anything i mention in my works such as toxic behavior and bodily harm, i won’t tolerate seeing such either. with such said, please don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts!

Keep reading

CHAPTER ONE — DEATH WISH

lavender blood || park seonghwa

pairing: gn!reader x god of death!seonghwa

word count: 1,144

a/n: i appreciate all the love even before this fic had officially started! nothing goes unappreciated and it all means the world to me! i hope i can reach your expectations even just slightly! feedback is welcomed and appreciated, even thoughts/conspiracies on what you think is going to happen! everything i write is there for a reason and everything is chosen carefully! every scene holds a lot more meaning even its later on — with that being said, enjoy reading!! x

prev ( intro ) .. next

taglist ( ask to be + or - )

@vemarkciraptor @storminacloud @etrnalhwa @mingiholic @sugarrimajins @gemjimin @alanniys @teezers99 @bobrouxsky @miriamxsworld @girlsbyaespa

i am in no way claiming this to be an accurate representation of ateez/seonghwa or any of the other people i mention in my works—everything is strictly fictional and made to be read and enjoyed. they are merely reference characters. i am also in no way glamorizing or romanticizing anything i mention in my works such as toxic behavior and bodily harm, i won’t tolerate seeing such either. with such said, please don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts!

Keep reading

seni oilai

♔ pairing: servent! j.wy x queen! reader

♔ genre: smut, angst

♔ wc: 2.5k

♔ content: royalty au, sexual servitude, fingering, nipple play, penetration, lots of teasing, unsaid feelings, secret established relationship

♔ a/n: no read more tab because tumblr hates me :/

The bathroom ceiling was decorated with beautiful and intricate designs, all handpainted by the Royal family’s personal painter. You’ve been told that the painter had spent days lying on his back to make the scenery that currently overlooked your bathtub. The inspiration came from the first spring after the long, brutal, and deadly winter your Kingdom endured many years ago. Your eyes followed the swells of white clouds that stretched over the light blue paint and the flocks of birds that stretched their wings and embraced the rebirth of warmth and beauty. Of course, that was just what the painter pictured it to be. But to you, the painting was nothing but a cruel reminder of what you could never have. You stared up at this grand ceiling from your bathtub every night, growing sick from the constant reminder that you were stuck. You felt like a bird being held prisoner in its cage, forced to look at everyone else flap their wings and fly away from this godforsaken place.

After the untimely death of your parents, and there being no male heirs to the throne, the Court decided with great hesitation to pass the crown down to you. No one wanted a girl Queen. Just the thought of you as a ruler gave the Kingdom great anxiety. A girl Queen meant a vulnerable Kingdom, and no one was equipped to handle an invasion. Understanding this sentiment at such a young age, you made it your duty to prove everyone wrong. You wanted to show them that you were capable, if not more capable than your father, of being a leader. Even with your accomplishments at peace and prosperity during your years of reign, that sentiment remained unchanged. You learned that no matter what you did, no one would take you seriously as Queen. And with that, your efforts faltered and you went on autopilot.

There were whispers in the court about an unnamed Prince who was interested in her Royal Highness. The lone Prince was said to have been planning to propose to you and merge both Kingdoms under one rule. The Court took a likeness to the idea. You were bombarded by them, along with the Chief Minister to at least consider marrying him. There were too many reasons not to say no: More land, financial security, and of course, more respect and stability with a man by your side. It amazed you just how much they trusted and respected someone they barely knew all because he had a dick.

You sunk yourself lower into the bath, resting your achy neck on the edge of the tub. You were under a lot of stress tonight after the Chief Minister announced to you that he invited this bachelor for you to meet tomorrow. You were angry, of course, but you were used to him doing things behind your back like this. He was a good friend to your father and looked to advise you as best as he could. But sometimes, he made you feel like you had no say in anything you did. You were just the face of the Kingdom, a puppet for him to puppeteer. As much as you wanted to fight it, you knew that at the end of the day, he would get his way and you will have to walk down that aisle sooner or later.

Honestly, there was no reason to be bothered by this in the first place. Being Queen was a difficult task. To have someone else take the wheel would be a godsend, and could finally take some stress off your shoulders. So why were you so upset?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the bathroom doors open and shut from behind you, followed by a hesitant few steps forward. You knew exactly who it was from his timid footsteps.

“You’re late.” You sighed in exasperation. Shutting your eyes, you sunk yourself even deeper into the water, sending some bubbles to splash out from the tub.

“I know. I apologize, Your Majesty.” After a beat of silence, Wooyoung walked over to the bathtub. Your eyes were still shut but you knew he was hovering over you now, most likely with a playful grin, with his hands tucked neatly behind his back as he obediently awaited his next order. However, when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with the sight of your humble servant gazing down at you with a look of concern. It always amazed you just how beautiful he looked wearing any emotion- anger, sadness, contentment- it was worth more to look at than the eyesore that took over your bathroom ceiling. But of course, your favorite look on him was the look of lust. His half-lidded eyes, rosy cheeks, and parted lips while you sank down his length- that was a sight worth looking at.

“I won’t be needing you tonight. I’ll be retiring to my chambers soon. You should do the same.” You closed your eyes again and waited to hear his footsteps trail away. But he didn’t move.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

You wished he’d just obey and leave you alone. When you two first started, it was supposed to be just a physical relationship. But now it was intimate in a way that you never intended. And you worried if maybe he was too emotionally attached to you. Or maybe it was you that was attached to him.

“Everything’s fine.” You prayed that was sufficient, but to your dismay, Wooyoung wasn’t satisfied and he took it upon himself to sit on the edge of the tub and quietly wait for you to tell him what was really wrong.

“Wooyoung,” you whined, “I’m just tired. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you calling your Queen a liar? I’m pretty sure that’s treason.”

Your quick-witted reply earned you a chuckle and you were relieved to see him soften his expression for once that night. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” Wooyoung dipped his hand into the warm bath water and traced his fingertips up your thigh. You bit back a moan as his hand inched closer to your bare heat. “But at least let me help you relieve some stress.”

Wooyoung rubbed your inner thigh and waited for you to part your legs. Hesitating at first, you eventually obliged and spread yourself open for him. He made an experimental swipe over your slit which already had you rolling your eyes back. He spread your lips apart, pouting when he saw your aching clit.

“You spend all day taking care of this Kingdom, but who takes care of you?” He poked. It drove you mad when he spoke to you like this, a soft and barely audible whisper like he didn’t want to talk over your moans. After massaging over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and pushed two fingers inside of you, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to hold in your gasps.

“Wooyoung!” You gripped his forearm tightly as he pumped his digits in and out of you. His pace was unforgiving and you tried desperately to hold on and control his movements. But Wooyoung was pissed and there was no way to tame him when he was like this. He didn’t like when you kept things from him. He knew you were hiding something and he doesn’t particularly like being out of the loop.

“Shh..” he cooed, “just relax and let me take care of you.”

He began curling his fingers inside of you, and this time you weren’t able to hold in your moans. You were usually good at keeping quiet, afraid of nosy servants hearing what you were up to and spreading rumors that you took a lowborn as a lover. But Wooyoung thought if he couldn’t get you to talk about what’s bothering you, then he deserved to hear your loud and delicious moans as a replacement.

“Too fast…gonna cum” you squealed, sending more water out from the bathtub as you jolted your hips up and down.

“Already?” He grinned. “I barely even started.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to stop teasing, but the feeling of his thumb pressing over your needy clit took the words right out of your mouth. One hand gripped the bathtub, while the other was still holding onto his chiseled arm. Heat pooled in your lower stomach and Wooyoung could tell that it would only take another couple of pumps before you came undone for him. As much as you loved his skilled fingers swirling over your clit, you didn’t want to finish so quickly and go back to another night of sleepless worry. You grabbed onto his hand to stop him from going any further.

“Not like this” you breathed. Wooyoung smirked, his fingers still deep inside of you.

“No? Then how would you like me, My Queen?”

“You know your place.” You pulled your legs up to your chest, hinting at him to get in with you. Nothing else was said as he quickly unclothed himself before slipping into the bath. Before you could climb over him, you took some time to admire how heavenly he looked right now: Wet hair slicked back with a few strands kissing at his forehead, and the way his collarbones glistened from being in the bubbly water. Wooyoung was second to none, incomparable to even the richest of Kings. You never admitted it to him, but sometimes you imagined him in a crown sitting beside you on the throne. Anyone who saw him wouldn’t second guess that he belonged up there with you.

You straddled over him now, taking him into your hands to help him get ready for you. He kissed down your neck before making home on your breast, rubbing his lips gently over your nipples. They were more sensitive and raised now from being in the water for so long, and Wooyoung took advantage of that. He took your bud into his mouth as you stroked his stiff cock, the vibrations from his moans sending goosebumps all over your skin.

Wooyoung took his cock from you and lined himself up with your core. You let out a string of low and shaky moans, waiting for the moment that he’d finally enter and fuck all the useless thoughts out of your head. But Wooyoung had no intention of giving you what you wanted. Instead, he rubbed his tip along your slit in an agonizingly slow tempo, carefully brushing over your clit as he did so.

“Woo…please, can’t wait any longer.”

He looked up at you with hazy eyes, waiting for you to make eye contact with him. But you couldn’t get yourself to look him in the eye. “First tell me what’s on your mind.”He demanded.

You sighed, unhappy when you understood that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted unless you confessed. But the truth was, you yourself weren’t sure what was bothering you. You just knew that you wanted to see him tonight and have him close. Part of you worried it would be the last time.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He sprayed your chest with soft kisses, speaking into your skin in a low voice. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s wrong.” He was circling his tip over your clit now. He knew it drove you crazy, all this stimulation when all you wanted was to feel full from his cock.

“Wooyoung.” You hated begging. You hated that he wouldn’t give you what you wanted, but you were too under his spell to do anything about it other than whine pathetically as he toyed with you like this.

Wooyoung only hummed in response, lips still nipping at your sore breasts. At first, you thought he finally gave up when you felt him push his tip into your entrance. You held onto his shoulders and anticipated the stretch but the anticipation soon turned to frustration once he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty again.

Defeated, your face fell to the crook of his neck and you groaned in annoyance. “I should just have you beheaded.”

He chuckled into your ear. “Then who’ll make you cum?”

Wooyoung continued on with his game, pushing just the tip into you before pulling himself back out. So many thoughts raced over your head, some making sense, some not, but one thing was for sure and that was that you couldn’t bare to go on like this anymore.

“It’s you!” You admitted. “You’re always on my mind and I’m so tired of it! I hate you for making me feel this way, if I could go back in time I would stop myself from ever getting involved with you! Now will you just shut up and obey me for once?!”

Wooyoung was utterly dumbfounded. Although he understood that the true nature of your relationship was purely sexual servitude, he couldn’t deny that he’d often wondered if you, like him, felt something more. After thinking it over, he understood your frustrations. He had heard the rumors about the proposal. He tried not to take it personally. He knew where he stood in this relationship. Being a Royal was stressful as it was, and it was his job to offer some much needed stress relief to the Queen. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a little depressed after hearing of your coming marriage.

Now that he knew your true feelings, Wooyoung thought about asking you to run away with him and finally free yourselves from this cage. But he also knew where your loyalties lie, and they were tightly knotted within this Kingdom. He wished you knew that his loyalties laid with you. If he told you, would it make a difference? He wondered.

He had so much he wanted to say. But he knew in the end that nothing could be done in your situation. In an effort to make things easier, he decided to finally do as he was asked and help you forget about your troubles- as well as his. Giving you that boyish smirk of his, he lined himself up with your core once again.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

With your slit covered in anticipation, and with the bath water around you, he slipped into you with ease. Both of you moaned once he bottomed out. You stayed still, connecting your lips with his, sharing the same hunger he had for you with him. His hands fell to your hips and he guided you over his shaft. The pace was slow but perfect. You didn’t want to finish so quickly, wishing to savor every bit of him for as long as you could. But all the moaning, kissing, touching, as well as having your bud being rubbed against his abs every time you came up and down his length made it impossible to stall your release.

When you were both done you remained as you were in the bathtub with your head laying against his chest whine he traced his fingers up and down your spine. He let you play with his other fingers as you both came down from your highs. You thought his fingers were still pretty even though they were all pruny from the extended time in the water. “In another life, I would’ve.” You broke the silence. You said it so quietly that you worried if he heard you or not. You didn’t think you had it in you to say it again.

Wooyoung sighed, taking a break from tracing your back to just stay still and hold you. He wondered what awful thing he did in his past life to be born as a servant. But there was nothing either of you could do about it now, other than to enjoy the night before you two went back to being strangers in the morning.

“In another life.” He agreed.

🎧 seni oilai- ALPHA

in each other's arms

pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader word count . 3k warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i’m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo

synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the word idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful

You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.

Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.

It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.

Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.

Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.

“Mingi? What’s wrong?”

He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.

“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.

The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.

“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.

“I think there are monsters in my room.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”

You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.

“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.

“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.

“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”

“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”

You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.

“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”

“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”

At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.

“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”

You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.

After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.

“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.

Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.

“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”

You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.

“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”

And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.

The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.

“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”

You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.

“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”

Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?

“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.

“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”

His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.

“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”

You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”

“He does?”

You turn to look at him, confused.

“Did you not finish the episode?”

“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”

You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.

“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”

“I like the organized chaos.”

“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”

“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”

He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.

You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.

Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.

Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.

Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.

Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.

“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”

“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.

“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”

The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.

You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.

Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.

A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.

Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?

“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”

Okay, so San agrees to disagree.

“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”

You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.

“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.

“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”

You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.

“Oh,” San starts.

“Oh?”

“That changes everything.”

You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.

“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”

You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”

“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”

The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.

“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”

“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”

San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.

However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.

Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.

However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.

The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

“Do you like me?”

He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.

“What?”

He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.

“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”

‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.

“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”

“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”

He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.

“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”

He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Be The Light (Part 2)

pairing: ateez (ot8) x reader

genre: Dystopian AU, angst, some fluff maybe, based off of ATEEZ’s lore

wc: 5k+ (I'm sorry?)

warnings: ANGST. Mentions of food. MC is... going through a lot of emotions. violence. this is set in strictland. Let me know if I missed anything.

summary: You lost them, then found them again. And now that freedom is so near, you fear losing them once again.

Tumblr is based on a system of reblogs, not likes. Please reblog my work. Feedback is always appreciated.

a/n: Now that this has turned into a series, the taglist is open! Send me an ask/DM if you would like to be tagged ❤️ A HUGE thanks to @hwaightme for helping me with the pacing for this chapter. Thank you.

Taglist: (open, send me an ask/dm if you want to be tagged in future updates!) @camzpetite @kawennote09 @parkthothwa8 @jenseok17 @simeonswhore @jjaelly @miaatiny @miriamxsworld @hwaightme-recs @jackinmyarea

Sleep has evaded you since the night you returned to the base. The only reason you were able to catch some hours of rest that night was only because you were drained both physically and emotionally, having cried until you'd passed out of exhaustion.

Even with The Eight missing, the members of The Movement trust you enough to wait patiently until you come up with a plan to attack the government again. You had given them an ambiguous idea of what you were going to do, mentioning how Hongjoong had made sure things would run smoothly even without them around. No one had stepped out of the base unless absolutely necessary, but the same cannot be said for you.

It's close to dawn, and you're seated on a ledge overlooking the city, which has suspiciously been bathed in silence since the fateful day. You've been on high alert, strengthening security and ensuring that if push comes to shove, all of you will have a way to escape without any more casualties. You do not want any more blood on your hands.

A movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. From your vantage point, you spot a bunch of vehicles silently moving through the streets. Your eyes follow the tail lights to the center of the sector. Android Guardians step out and work on something, you can't see clearly from a distance, but you can feel it in your bones that whatever they're planning is not going to be good. It takes them an hour to install whatever it is, and by the time they leave, the city is waking up.

You turn and don your cloak, pulling up the hood as you make your way to the streets down below, allowing yourself to be led by the masses of people as they go about their day. Not only does this allow you to not think about what had happened a few days ago, but you're also able to scour the city for any signs of trouble for your group without drawing too much attention to yourself. Without Yeosang to look out for you, moving about on your own would be dangerous. At least with people around you, you can hide yourself in the crowd.

You've always found a sense of peace in the act of walking, which is why you assumed the role of the scout. You are unassuming enough to be overlooked, especially when in a crowd of people. There have been so many instances when you were on the run from the Android Guardians and had slipped between a mass of people, effectively disappearing from their radar. It was precisely because of this skill that, to the government, you were known as The Shadow.

"You won't guess what they've taken to calling our Light," Mingi's deep voice breaks the intense discussion you'd been having with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. His tone also catches the attention of the others, and one by one, they trickle into the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the flyer in the tallest member's hands.

"What is it?" Curiosity tugs you closer to Mingi, and all of you fall silent when he holds up the piece of paper for all of you to read.

"That's an irony if I've ever seen one," Jongho manages to utter before collapsing into a fit of giggles which starts a chain reaction, and soon, all of you are laughing not only at the fact that they've named you 'Shadow' of all things, but also the preposterous descriptions.

"They're literally contradicting themselves with each sentence," Yeosang chuckles while reading out what's written. "Did they even proofread this? 'Assumed to be 140 cm' is followed by 'is considerably taller than The Arsonist, who's known to be 173 cm'."

"That's borderline offensive, by the way, I know our shortie isn't very tall, but 140 cm is just too much," Yunho is practically kneeling on the ground at this point, laughing so hard that his legs can't hold him up anymore.

"I can't get over the 'is considerably taller than The Arsonist,' our Light is the only one of us who's shorter than me!" Wooyoung whines, throwing himself onto the nearest person. Unfortunately for him, however, Seonghwa sidesteps the incoming ball of energy, and he crashes into Yunho, eliciting another round of laughter from all of you.

"It's quite fitting, though," Hongjoong muses once all of you have calmed down somewhat. "The codename," he explains when he sees your confused expressions, "I remember reading somewhere that revolution cannot be spelled without love, but backwards. And the fact that they're our Light, which automatically makes them a shadow for Z and his regime."

Mingi whistles appreciatively, "Damn…that was deep."

You're pulled back to the present when you almost bump into someone, but thankfully, you catch yourself at the last moment. It's only when you realize everyone is looking at something that you lift your eyes to take in what has caught everyone's attention.

It takes you a second to truly register what you're seeing, and when you do, your brain reminds you of how truly terrified you are. The memory of your boys has eased some of your nerves, momentarily making you forget that no one is waiting for you back at the base. You won't ever see Hongjoong's impressed face when you manage to outwit him. You won't feel Seonghwa's warmth ever again. You won't have any more dance battles with Yunho and Mingi, nor will you ever be a part of the infamous WooSan sandwich. You won't ever find solace in Jongho's presence, and Yeosang will never show off his IT skills. Not anymore.

As you take in the figure the government had erected, you're left bereft and grieving for your loss all over again. It is decked in Seonghwa's accessories from head to toe. For being nothing but a human construction, the figure looks lively, especially due to the cloak that flutters in the air as if it’s alive.

"The members of HALATEEZ have been taken down. With their leaders gone, The Movement has retreated, and peace is finally restored." Z's voice blares from the loudspeakers. "Remember—"

OUR WORLD IS PERFECT AS LONG AS THERE ARE NO CRACKS.

FEELINGS ARE A WEAKNESS.

EMOTIONS ARE DISEASE.

WE WANT TO PROTECT YOU ALL.

DO NOT DOUBT US.

DO NOT QUESTION.

ALL OF THIS IS FOR YOU.

Your stomach churns, and you swallow back a sob. You can’t cry, not here, where anyone can see you. For the first time in forever, you feel exposed, as if someone has stripped you of your skin, and all that remains are your bones. How could you have never realized how the boys had always acted like a safety blanket? Their presence was grounding even when the world was breaking apart at the seams. And now, they had been ripped away from you, leaving you bereft and grieving the sense of security you had once enjoyed.

You take a step back, then another, and another. Before long, you’re tracing your way back to the hideout. Once you can’t see the crowd or the abomination they’ve erected, you run. Throwing caution to the wind, you don't stop until you're back in the safety of your room.

Your back presses against the door, and you slide down onto your knees. Panicked shivers overtake your body as you tremble from fear. Gasping for breath, you gulp air as if tasting it for the very first time, trying to overcome the compression in your chest that threatens to drown you. What hurts the most is the guilt that you feel, questions plaguing your mind as you fall into despair once again.

What if you had confronted them during breakfast that day? Would they still be alive?

What if you'd figured out their plans earlier? Would they be here with you, celebrating yet another victory?

What if?

What if?

What if?

The silence extends across the hideout, blanketing everything in its cold embrace. Usually, you would hear voices from the various rooms as you walk through a hallway or the shuffle of footsteps just out of reach as someone goes about their daily duties. But you had sent all of them to Left Eye's underground bunker on the outskirts of Sector 1. Your decision had been met with some reluctance, but after hearing what you had seen this morning, it was decided that leaving would be the best course of action for now. After the huge loss incurred at the hands of the Android Guardians, it would take The Movement a while to rise from the ashes. But you would. You had done it before, you could do it again.

Now all alone in the hideout, you stand in the common area, eyes trained on the Cromer that you've placed on the table. Your fingers are poised over the device, your hand trembling as you hesitate to touch it. Touching it would mean everything you've experienced in the last few days is real. Once you let yourself hold the device again, you'll have to come to terms with the fact that you won't wake up from this nightmare.

Alone in the room, you're quiet, but the rage that followed your breakdown this morning is still coursing through your veins, wanting to bubble over. You want to unleash your anger at the world, to break it apart until it's barely holding together. You want to unleash hell on Z, to tear into him with your bare fingers until he feels the agony that you felt when he took your family away from you. You've never been violent, opting to leave that part to the boys. Instead, you chose to patch up the hearts that had been broken by the government. But right now, you crave the vindictive relief that comes with violence.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turn around abruptly and walk out of the room with a sense of purpose. Your footsteps are slow and careful, carefully timed with each inhale as you try to get as far away from the Cromer as you can. When you finally stop to take in your surroundings, you find yourself in front of Hongjoong's office. Unlike the rest of the base, this door is imposing, not just because beyond it lies the office of your Captain, but also because the room carries secrets you're not sure you want to know. You lean forward, resting your forehead against the door, and let yourself feel for a moment. With your eyes closed like this, the base seems alive, walls thrumming against your touch. In a world that has been stripped off of emotions, you find it fitting that the building you chose to be The Movement's base is brimming with life.

Taking another deep breath, you push the door open, making a beeline toward the desk in the center of the room. Your hand brushes against the expensive wood, fingers curling around the handle of the drawer in which Hongjoong kept tidbits that reminded him of all of you. He was a hoarder, always unable to part with something he considered precious, even if it wasn't of use anymore. He would keep it for the sake of memory, for the nostalgia that came with still having something that meant so much at some point in the past. Seonghwa always scolded him for it, threatening to throw away or burn all the stuff that didn't work anymore, but he never got around to it. And you're glad he didn't. Now that they're no longer here, you suppose the things Hongjoong had collected are all that's left of them.

Just as you pull the drawer open a smidge, a voice in the back of your mind reminds you about the memory card Yunho had mentioned in the letter, and you close it with a bang. It's too soon. Much too soon for you to be able to remember every memory associated with the things inside. You can't have another breakdown, not right now when the full moon is to rise in a few hours. You need to be prepared for tonight.

You flip through the files and notes, coming across a small diary that has the letters ATZ embellished on it. You open it, hoping to find something that would help you find a way to bring 'them' to your world.

The universe is divided into dimensions. Each is separated from the other by space and time. The only device that can connect the dimensions is the Cromer which 'imitates' the phases of the moon.

You find a note folded between the pages, Hongjoong's messy writing making it slightly difficult to decipher what's written. It is clear that he had written it down in a hurry, but it makes you smile regardless, the familiarity of his writing making it easier for you to breathe.

My Light,

In case things don't work out and you have to execute Plan B, please follow these instructions to bring them here.

During the last crescent moon, I asked the leader of the group from the other dimension to be ready for you on the next full moon. I tried my best to explain everything to him through the dream, but I'm not sure how successful I was. Rest assured, however, that they will be prepared for you to bring them here.

Since they do not have the Cromer, you will have to travel to their dimension (Universe A) and then come back with them to ours (Universe Z). Turn the Cromer clockwise to travel to A and anticlockwise to return. You’ll need to be in direct moonlight to travel. Don't wait for the next full moon to travel home, no matter what.

Be safe.

KHJ

You leaf through other notes about the Cromer, but they're all more or less the same. You file everything for future use, stacking everything in piles of connected information so that it'll be easier for you to access it in the future. When the clock chimes, you realize how late it is, and you scramble to retrieve your cloak and mask from your room. You shoulder the bag you had prepared in advance before snatching the Cromer. With some hesitation, you also grab a pistol and tuck it into your belt before leaving the hideout.

Hidden in the shadows of the night, you pad down the dark, empty streets of the city. From somewhere nearby, you can hear the damned audio Z has resumed playing since this morning. Once you reach your destination, you allow yourself to rush as you climb up the stairs of the abandoned building.

When you arrive on the rooftop, you relish in the moonlight that bathes you in its essence. You hold the Cromer, which glows in your hands as if anticipating what you are about to do. You take a deep breath, and before you can convince yourself that it is a bad idea, you turn it clockwise.

And then, the world turns upside down.

Suddenly, time becomes palpable. It’s slowing down around you, flowing over and around you as if you’re not part of this world anymore. Enchanted, you bring up your hand, watching the flow slow down until it stops fully. The colors start to dissolve into nothingness, and something pulls at you. The very next moment, you’re falling. You don’t know how long you fall, but you feel it when the world starts to reform around you.

Eyes wide, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. It’s bright, much too bright and colorful than your own gray world. The alley you have ended up in is isolated, but somewhere nearby, you can hear the sounds of footsteps and vehicles rambling on the road. The noise is punctuated by gleeful shouts and laughter of people. For a moment, you feel overwhelmed. This world is reminiscent of yours before Z took over. You had forgotten how lively a place could be when people are allowed to feel.

Turning in a full circle, you take account of everything around you, stopping short when your gaze lands on a tall stranger leaning against the lone lamp post that lights up the alleyway. The first thing you notice is his hair, a bright orange with red tips that mimics fire. Your gaze then falls on his face; the familiarity of his sharp cheekbones and blazing eyes makes you take a step back in shock. In your chest, your heart beats a mile a minute, and you find yourself struggling with the simple act of breathing. Seeing your distressed state, he takes a step towards you, but you hold up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Give me a minute. My body is adjusting to this place,” your voice is strained. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, but thankfully he says nothing and stays away from you.

You can’t believe Hongjoong would do this to you. He could have mentioned that the people he had contacted were basically another version of themselves. Had he really expected you to take this in stride?

“The Captain didn’t mention it to you because he knew you wouldn’t have traveled here if you knew,” The softness of his voice washes over you, the deep baritone vibrating in your soul.

It’s jarring. Not only does he look the same, but the kindness that burns behind his eyes is also the same. You’ve been on the receiving end of Mingi’s concern so many times, and feeling it once again is surreal. He is not your Mingi, but he is Mingi, and it confuses you.

“Are you—Will you be okay?” He’s perceptive, you’ll give him that. Or maybe it’s simply because he has joined the dots together. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you are here, especially after Hongjoong gave them a heads-up.

You nod, still struggling to catch your breath. You take him in, drinking in his appearance greedily. He does the same, even though he can’t see your face considering you’re still wearing your mask. But he watches you with a soft, hopeful expression, and you can’t miss the longing in his eyes. You watch his gaze fall to the device in your hands, and he straightens up as if suddenly realizing something.

“The others are waiting at the warehouse. It’s at the end of this alley,” he says, nodding toward the right before taking a step in that direction. You blanch at the ice in his tone, wondering why his demeanor changed so suddenly.

He doesn’t wait for you, doesn’t look back to make sure you’re following him. You scramble to keep up with his stride, his long legs carrying him faster than you are accustomed to. He watches you from the corner of his eye, one corner of his lip rising as he slows down a bit, allowing you to catch up with him.

“Don’t you dare,” you narrow your eyes at him when he bites his lips to stop himself from laughing. You know what he’s thinking from the way his eyes light up with mirth.

“But I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to,” you roll your eyes, glaring at him, at which he finally lets out a laugh. Sighing exasperatedly, you walk faster, trying to ignore the longing that washes over you. You have to remind yourself that he isn’t your Mingi, regardless of how much he looks or acts like him.

He leads you to the front of an abandoned warehouse, stopping in front of the door. You can hear voices from inside, familiar voices that cause you to freeze up. He allows you a moment to prepare yourself, hand reaching out towards you as if wanting to comfort you, but he thinks better of it when you flinch. He smiles sadly as if he had expected your reaction and opens the door, causing the conversations inside to halt.

You take another deep breath and follow Mingi into the warehouse, peeking at the others from behind Mingi’s tall figure. But, no amount of readiness could have prepared you for the sight in front of you. As soon as your gaze lands on the seven figures, you feel tears poor in your eyes and the familiar sting of heartache tugs at your soul. You can feel your hands trembling, but you clench them against your sides, hoping to appear nonchalant. A traitorous tear slips past your eyes, however, when the feline-eyed boy takes a step towards you and whispers your name with a small, pained smile gracing his lips.

“Do you… maybe want to take a seat?” Hongjoong’s voice is tentative, and you almost snap at him, wanting to tell him that you’re not some cornered animal he has to walk on eggshells around, but stop yourself before you can. He’s not your Hongjoong, and you can’t be mad at him for something someone else did. It wouldn’t be fair to him at all.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” you mentally cheer for yourself when your voice doesn’t crack. “You should wear these, though. We can’t afford to get caught, and those clothes of yours will stand out.”

There’s a beat of silence before all of them jump into action and crowd around your bag, donning the cloaks and masks you had packed. You deliberately look away from them, repeating the words ‘they’re not them’ in your head like a mantra. From the corner of your eye, you do catch Seonghwa’s face pulling into a tentative sort of wince, as if he’s ready for you to burst into tears but ignore him until they’re ready. You face them again when they’re done, noticing that it’s easier to look at them when you can’t see their faces.

“Shall we?”

You hole yourself up in your room for the next few days, and you are thankful that all of them give you some space to tackle the raging emotions inside of you. Returning to the base and seeing all eight of them spread around the space that was used by your comrades was all it took for the controlled facade you built for yourself to break. With a stern warning to not go into any of the eight offices and just stick to the bedrooms, you had rushed to your own, locking yourself up.

You have a stash of non-perishable snacks and some water courtesy of Woo, who had created a small hidden compartment for you to keep them in. And since you have your own bathroom, you really don’t have a reason to leave. You know it’s not right and that you should probably be training them, but you don’t think you’re capable of facing them. Just a few minutes took so much energy from you. How are you supposed to train with them for hours?

You try to clear your mind by doing some yoga, but the clarity brought by it doesn’t last for more than a few minutes, and more often than not, you find yourself sinking back into a pit of despair. Your mind keeps running through memories of your boys, but you feel betrayed. Not just by the fact that they deliberately kept the decoy plan from you but also because you had been kept in the dark about the people you were supposed to bring back to keep The Movement alive. You have so many questions about the reason for their actions, but you can’t really ask anyone. After all, you can never get answers from the dead. And you’re not even sure if you want to find out the answers because you know it will open a whole new can of worms that you would rather keep at bay.

Sighing, you get up from the mess of blankets to grab the water bottle, only to find it empty. A quick scan through your stash shows you that you have no water left in your room. Without much of a choice, you grab your jacket and throw it on before opening your door a crack. You peek out of your room, and since it’s quite late, you don’t hear any movement. Satisfied, you tiptoe past the rooms that line the hallway, not wanting to alert anyone of your movements.

Your plan is foiled when you reach the kitchen and bump into someone, staggering somewhat as the blow makes you lose your footing. An arm steadies you, and you feel the warmth of someone’s cardigan brush against you. Gulping, you brave a look at the person, only to regret it immediately. You find Yunho looking down at you with his brows furrowed in concern. He’s biting his lips as if batting with himself. But then, something shifts, and the storm in his eyes gives way to a softer expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks, releasing you from his hold but not making any effort to create any more distance between the two of you.

“Yeah,” your voice is barely above a whisper, but it rings loud and clear in the silence of the night.

You know he is trying his best not to let his eyes sweep over your form. But even a blind person can notice the worry reflected in his eyes at your disheveled state. With a sigh, he holds out a water bottle for you.

“Drink this and sit down,” his voice is soft but firm, and you don’t resist. It’s easier than being dragged down by your thoughts, anyway. You think he’s about to leave, but much to your surprise, he pulls out two frying pans before grabbing some butter, eggs, and bread.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watch him crack eggs into a bowl.

“Making you a grilled cheese,” he shrugs, your confusion pulling a smile on his lips.

“Why?”

“Well, you have probably been living on snacks for the past couple of days,” he scrunches his nose in distaste, but his voice is laced with compassion and warmth as he grabs a knife from one of the drawers. “And also, it’s the only thing I can cook without burning down the hideout.”

You chuckle involuntarily, watching as his expression lights up at the first happy sound he’s heard from you. He drops some butter into the pan, followed by two slices of bread.

“We were worried about you.”

“Oh,” you mutter, not knowing what else to say.

Comfortable silence encompasses the two of you as he cooks. Images of one of the boys doing something similar crossed your mind. They used to do the exact same thing when you had a nightmare. Though, unlike Yunho, who prepares the meal in silence, the boys would usually tell you stories or make jokes until you were laughing again. You are shaken out of your thoughts when Yunho places grilled cheese and orange juice in front of you.

“Don’t go back to sleep before you have finished all of this, alright?” He hesitates for a moment but pats your head once, “We sort of understand how you’re feeling. But trying to escape from reality won’t do you any good. I hope you can start hanging out with us soon, little Light.”

“Shortie, you can’t be this slow,” Yunho chides you as he hauls you up from the ground, the quick movement disorienting you a bit.

“I’m better than most people at this, though,” you say as you block the incoming hit, dodging all successive attacks Yunho throws at you.

“Yes, but you need to be better.”

“Why?” You whine, ducking just in time for his fist to whoosh past your head.

“Because Captain said so.”

They’ve been training you hard recently, and though you’d appreciate it any other day, you really don’t fancy getting up at the crack of dawn to train with one of them. San and Yunho are usually the worst and leave you feeling achy and wrung out after only a few rounds.

You dodge another attack, but you know that he has the upper hand, and at that moment, as he grins wolfishly at you, you decide to use the one thing you know would take him down and shut him up for the next few days.

‘When aimed correctly, in the right order, and at the right moment, roundhouse kicks can take anyone down. No matter how strong or weak they are,’ San’s voice rings in your ears clear as day. He had shown you the technique a week ago, insisting that you master it as soon as possible.

You see Yunho coming at you for another punch, and you dodge it. He isn’t expecting that and falters on his feet. So, taking the chance, you land a blow of your own. He’s not winded, but he’s surprised and using that to your advantage, you land solid to his kick to his ribs. Unfortunately for you, he grabs your elbow and takes you down with him. He flips you in mid-air, and you find all fight draining instantly when he goes limp.

“Get off,” you groan, trying to push him away from you. “You’re heavy!”

“And you are getting better,” he breathes, smirking down at you even though his lip is bleeding. “Soon, you’ll be able to take all of us down in a fight, little Light.”

The sudden onslaught of memory renders you speechless. A lump forms in your throat, and you freeze in your seat. You can tell that Yunho is unsettled by watching what must have been a storm of emotions reflected in your eyes.

“Don’t,” your voice cracks, but your icy tone is enough for him to take a step back. He gapes at you when you turn your fiery gaze onto him, “Don’t call me Light.”

“What do we call you then?” His voice is a little shaky.

“...Shadow,” Your voice comes out small and strangled.

Yunho blanches, guarded expression faltering instantly, and you swear his eyes well up with tears. But then, before you can think of something to say, he’s walking away, leaving you all alone in the cold kitchen. A sob erupts from your lips faster than you can register the tears falling. You don’t know how to navigate the mess you are in, and unfortunately for you, you do not have the time to.