In a city that worships gods made of flesh and steel, one monster dares to tell the truth. But when the gods and the monster are trapped by the very system they fight, who can they trust?
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GENRE NOTES: vigilante vs system • slow-burn ideological conflict
CONTENT TAGS: angst, violence, political manipulation, moral ambiguity, mature themes
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The air in the abandoned data vault was thick with ozone and the weight of eight pairs of eyes fixed on a single point. Morventa stood silhouetted against a bank of dead monitors, a small, wry smile playing on her lips. Cornered. Finally.
“Your little games are over,” Hongjoong’s voice was low, tight with a frustration that went far beyond the night’s chase. “You have no idea what you’ve done. The attention you’ve brought down on this city… on us.”
Morventa let out a soft, theatrical sigh. “Oh, Captain, don’t be so dramatic. I thought I was just providing some much-needed entertainment. You all look so terribly bored, flying around like… what was it I called you? The Paradigm Pigeons?”
A low growl rumbled from San, his hands clenching into fists. Beside him, Wooyoung just smirked, his eyes tracing her form. “She’s got a point, Cap. Things were getting a little dull.”
“Stop flirting with the enemy and get out of there,” a sharp voice crackled in Morventa’s ear, audible only to her. “I told you they were arrogant assholes, Mori. I have three exit routes mapped, but you need to move. Now.”
“Always a pleasure, Aera,” Morventa murmured under her breath, before raising her voice to the heroes. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I have places to be.”
She took a half-step back, preparing to dart for the ventilation shaft Aera had highlighted in her vision. But before she could move, a sound cut through the tension—a deep, grinding groan of metal on metal.
Massive blast doors, unseen until now, slammed down over every exit, sealing the vault with a deafening finality. Red lights began to strobe across the room, casting their faces in rhythmic flashes of crimson and shadow.
An automated, chillingly calm voice echoed from hidden speakers. “TOL Containment Protocol: Sector 1-7 initiated. All assets, hostile and friendly, are secured. Neutralization sequence will commence in ten minutes.”
The heroes froze. This wasn’t their doing. This wasn’t her doing.
Hongjoong’s head snapped toward her, his earlier anger replaced by a sharp, wary calculation. “What is this?”
“Mori, it’s a total lockdown. I’m firewalled out—completely. They knew you were here. They knew they would follow. It’s a trap for all of you. I… I can’t get you out.” Aera’s voice was stripped of its usual confidence, replaced by a thread of pure, cold panic. “You’re on your own. With them.”
Morventa’s smile didn’t falter, but it became a little more strained, a little more dangerous. She turned her gaze from Hongjoong to the other seven Archs, who now looked less like gods and more like caged animals.
“Well,” she said, her voice dripping with false cheer. “This is awkward. Looks like you’re stuck with the ‘oh-so evil villain’ for a little while longer. Try not to get in my way while I get us out.”
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Find out what happens next in PARADIGM BREAK
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INFO: The reader has two aliases: Morventa (villain identity) and Morianne (civilian identity). Neither is her real name. Her true name will be revealed later in the story and will be conveyed through narrative cues rather than the use of y/n.
(since it’s wooyoungie’s bday, i thought i’d tease my next big project with him)
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“dance with me.”
your eyebrow twitched when you heard that voice. his voice still sounded so serene, like a songbird, just like when you first met him. but instead of feeling warmth and butterflies, sparks of irritation danced over your nerves.
“i’d rather not.” you replied curtly, gripping the wine glass tighter in your hands. you tried to distract yourself by looking at the other people in the grand hall, dressed in satin silk and feathered masquerade masks, but the sight of the billions of couples in the room made you feel even more pathetic.
wooyoung scoffed, his smirk even more pronounced with half of his face covered by the black venetian mask he wore. you hated that he could still look so good after all this time.
“come on, darling.” wooyoung cooed, the sound of his words coming out more mocking than honeyed. “you know you want to. or would you rather stand here looking all sad and lonely?”
you scoffed and turned away from this man, already getting agitated from the mere sight of him. though, you can’t tell if it’s agitation or excitement.
“don’t call me that.” you sassed, not wanting to meet his gaze. “besides, i thought you’d be off with your new toy or whatever. why don’t you go dance with her instead?”
a flash of irritation twitched on wooyoung’s facials.
“it’s a fucking waltz, y/n.” wooyoung snapped, getting up in your personal space and making you turn around by grabbing your wrist.
“the easiest ballroom dance in the world, and i know you don’t wanna stand here moping around. wouldn’t exactly look good for mommy and daddy, now would it? so dance with me.”
fuck. now you couldn’t ignore him. your eyes rounded from shock and being intimidated by your ex’s rather aggressive reaction, but you’ve known of wooyoung’s volatile nature for a while.
besides, you can’t make a scene, you’d rather not get chewed out by your family during their grand ceremonious event.
swallowing your pride just this once, you relented.
“fine.”
wooyoung smirked, already dragging you to the center of the ballroom, letting you and him get swept up in the materialistic crowd.
“great. let’s dance, mon amour.”
-
❤︎ — dancing round and round the old ballroom that you created so many memories in, you find yourself falling into a loop where you, and the man you once loved, selfishly give into each other’s desires
I've been working on something for the month of August and am excited to share what I've been working on which will be coming September so please read below the cut if you're curious to see what it is!
➮ no pairing but features Seonghwa of Ateez
wc: 2204
warnings: none
Your footsteps echoed around the dark corridor as you shined a flashlight around the walls. From the outside, you would have never expected the hallway to be this long but were reminded again that if the legends were to be believed, this place could stretch and distort things on a whim.
Taking another deep breath, you pressed on, continuing down the dark hallway as you continued to shine the light around, hoping to find another doorway or even a set of doors to end this stretch. It was becoming unbearably long and starting to weigh on you just how long it had been since you’d seen light other than the flashlight in your hand.
Just as the thought to turn back crossed your mind, you froze, staring into the distance at what seemed to be a light at the end of the hallway. Your thumb hovered over the button on the flashlight and after a moment, you pressed it, the click echoing.
As the beam from your flashlight diminished, the light at the end of the tunnel did not and relief flooded your body as you turned the light back on with a click and continued down the corridor, a skip in your step.
As the light at the end grew and you got closer and closer, you wondered briefly if it was some kind of trick. Maybe it wasn’t a light at all. Or maybe, it was a light but what would you find at the end besides the light source? What secrets were hidden in the dark, deep in the Library of Illusion?
As you neared the light, a doorway started to materialize and a room within also started to appear. The doorway was a stone arch, rounded at the top and the room beyond was larger than you initially thought.
Turning off the flashlight, you looked around at the round room. It was entirely made of stone, a small platform with a small stone gazebo stood in the middle of the room. Surrounding the platform were curved bookshelves full of loose papers, yellowed with age.
Scrolls upon scrolls sat on shelves, stacked on one another in between old worn books, some even looked burned and ruined beyond recognition.
Between breaks in the shelves were six large, wooden doors. Each door had an old, tarnished knob in the middle and decorative knockers that upon first look seemed identical. Above each door, carved into the stone bricks were words.
You moved to the left, reading the words carved above the door closest to you. It read Science Fiction, leaving you with more questions than answers but as you moved further around the room, following the curve, each door had a genre carved into the stone above it; Science Fiction, Crime/Mystery, History, Horror, Adventure, and Fantasy. Between the third and fourth doors was a small square room.
It looked almost like an office of sorts with a large desk, several bookshelves but tucked under a window, between two shelves, was a bed, the sheets a tangled mess as though whoever used it had gotten up recently and not bothered to make the bed.
You moved closer to inspect the shelves, reading various titles but the one that stuck out the most was Dracula. ‘Interesting choice,’ you told yourself with an amused hum before turning to face the desk that was covered in papers.
You walked over, looking at the sheets which turned out to be maps and other pages that might have been diary entries.
You looked up at the wall opposite the bed to find even more shelves, full of the same old yellowed pages, scrolls, and even more books but also long necked bottles with bulbous bases. Each bottle was corked and covered in a fine layer of dust
The bottles themselves were thick, clear glass, distorted with age and the liquid inside was a deep, rich red almost like – ‘Blood?’ you thought as you inspected them. A chill ran up your spin and you forced yourself to turn away from the bottles, hoping your morbid thoughts were just that — thoughts.
As you turned away, another door caught your eye. Like the other doors, it was made of wood and seemed to be heavy. Instead of solid wood, it had a small paned glass window in the shape of a semicircle. The panes were a thick opaque red glass with gold in between each pane.
Under the window, in place of a knob, was a series of keyholes. Seven of them. Four on top and three on the bottom. They were old, most likely fitted to old rusted keys.
As you were inspecting the keyholes, you heard a soft whooshing sound behind you. Quickly, you stood up straight and turned around, finding both rooms empty. You walked to the round room and looked around before raising your gaze overhead.
The ceiling, which you hadn’t even noticed before, was domed and made entirely of glass with iron supports. The glass was littered on the outside with leaves and twigs and even one glass window was broken, which explained the old leaves littering the floor between bookshelves.
As you walked further into the round room, you noticed a pedestal standing in the center of the stage. You were surprised because you hadn’t noticed this before. ‘Was this always here?’ you wondered as you stepped onto the platform.
Placed upon the stone pedestal was a large ornate box.
The base of the box was wooden but it had gold plated metal fitted around the corners and where the lid met the body of the box met in an intricate fastener. Embedded in the gold were red gemstones of various sizes and cuts with the largest being oval.
As you rounded the pedestal, taking in the box, you heard a scraping sound, like a shoe against the stone and turned around to face the small room where the sound came from. Standing in the archway of the room was a man.
As your eyes adjusted to his sudden appearance, your eyes widened in shock, recognition filling your mind along with numerous questions. How, who, why?
You would recognize those dark eyes and piercing stare anywhere. It was him! The man from your dreams. The one you’d been seeing every night for months, plaguing you as you tried to sleep. The reoccurring dreams, the nightmares, all of it. He was the one you always saw.
He took a step forward, the light shining in from the glass dome illuminating him even more. He was as every bit ethereal and beautiful as he was in your dreams, perhaps even more so in person. You stared back at him with wide eyes as he watched you carefully.
You felt like prey caught in the gaze of a predator and as he drew closer still, your instincts kicked in, heart hammering in your chest.
‘Run.’
You tried to do just that, backing away before turning towards the hallway you’d entered from only to find it gone. Before you was a blank stretch of stone wall, the archway present but the gap filled with stone blocks. You turned back to find the man standing where you had just been on the platform, still watching you.
You turned to look at one of the many doors around the room and ran to the closest one, grabbing the knob and trying to twist it only for it to not budge. “Wait,” the man spoke in a clear voice. You looked over your shoulder at him.
“S-stay away!” you stammered, still trying to wrench open the door. He held up a hand, stopping a couple paces away. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he answered. “But that door is locked,” he continued. “And only I have the key.”
You gave up trying to turn the knob and let out an exasperated groan before turning to face him. As your eyes met, the man’s brows rose in what you could only assume was shock. He was shocked to see you? Had he not been plaguing your dreams?
‘That’s not his fault, you idiot,’ you told yourself. ‘It’s not like he knows that!’
The man took another step forward, eyes narrowing as he searched your face. You pressed back, hitting the wooden door as he stepped even closer until you could see his face in detail. His pale, flawless complexion, his red irises that seemed to almost glow in the low light.
‘What is he?’
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand raise and you tried to pull back as he reached up, hesitating as you flinched before he gently took your chin and tilted your head back up. His eyes scanned your face, a look of both shock and confusion on his face before a wave of recognition passed over his features.
“Blossom?” he whispered.
You froze. ‘Blossom? What is that? Is it some kind of code?’
His hand shifted, cupping your cheek as he looked between your eyes. “Blossom,” he said again, only this time, it didn’t sound like a question, more of a confirmation. You stared back at him before pushing him back quickly.
“Who are you?” you blurted out. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked. You shook your head, taking note of how the look on his face was replaced with hurt before a look of disappointment crossed it only to be replaced finally with a look of acceptance.
He straightened up, clearing his throat. “My apologies,” he finally said. “You look like someone I knew long ago.” You said nothing, continuing to watch him. “You’ve come for the Library, haven’t you?” he asked.
You stared at him until you realized he was waiting for you to answer.
“Uh, yeah,” you said softly. “Well, kind of.”
The man tilted his head to the side, giving you a quizzical look. “It’s complicated,” you explained. “But I’d heard rumors,” you continued, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, something you’d had a habit of doing when you were anxious or felt vulnerable.
“Rumors? You came here based on rumors?” he asked, tucking his hands behind his back. “I suppose that’s not the oddest thing I’ve heard,” he added so softly you weren’t sure if you were meant to hear it. “And I suppose you’re here for the treasure?”
You stared at him wordlessly, blinking. “Treasure?”
It was the man’s turn to be caught off guard.
“You don’t know about the treasure?” he asked, sounding outright confused. You shook your head. The man sighed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “So why have you come here, then?” he asked.
Images of your dreams flashed in your mind. Images of him. Slightly different than he was now but you were certain it was him. There were also flashes of the image of another man with golden glowing eyes and a smirk. Something about the other man felt dangerous but this man, nothing felt exponentially dangerous. Not even the red eyes or otherworldly feeling.
He felt familiar. There was a lingering impression of danger but compared to the other man in your dreams, this man felt much more tame. Much safer.
“Like I said,” you started. “It’s complicated.”
The man sighed and turned around, walking back to the platform and stepping up onto it. You stepped forward and watched as he rounded the pedestal, inspecting the box as well before he looked up, his red gaze meeting yours. A vision of something similar.
An old, dusty building where he was walking around an old splintered desk and looked up in the same fashion. As you returned to your senses, you stumbled slightly, grabbing the nearest bookshelf to keep you upright.
‘What the hell was that?’
You shook your head in an attempt to shake away the lingering dizziness that accompanied the vision. You looked up and noticed the man was watching you with a concerned expression, his brows furrowed together.
“Whatever it is, your reasoning for coming here will eventually come to light,” he explained as he finished circling the pedestal. “They always do.”
He turned his gaze away from the box and back to where you stood. “You’ve entered the Library of your own volition and now you must proceed to escape.”
You felt your stomach sink. “Escape?” you asked. The man nodded. “When you enter the Library, a lock is sealed and the only way to escape is to gather the keys and enter the Restricted Section,” he explained, gesturing to the ornate door in the second room.
“It is the only way to leave. You’ve seen that you cannot turn back,” he continued, pointing at the sealed entry. “Once you pass through that arch, it seals itself and the only way out is through.”
You looked at the door at the back, the one that led to the Restricted Section.
“Who are you?” you asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. The man hesitated before answering. “You really don’t know?” he asked. You shook your head. You’d seen the man before but you didn’t know his name.
I have been working almost nonstop through the month of August on this and will have the prequels up VERY soon so I can focus on THIS before we get into Kinktober. We are going back to the Library of Illusion! If you want to learn more, read below for the details as well as a link to the taglist!
series summary: Y/N has finally found the place that haunts her dreams, the fabled Library of Illusion. Deep in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains, she arrives and enters to find why it and a strange man have been inhabiting her sleeping mind.
sections:
Crime/Mystery — Caught in the Middle
History — The Mad Butcher of Whitechapel
Fantasy — Be My Guest
Adventure — On the High Seas
Science Fiction — The Red Planet
Horror — Voices in the Snow
If any of this sounds like something you'd like to read, you can sign of for the taglist here or leave a comment on this post! Taglist will be open until the end of the first week of September and after that, no more names will be added to the taglist!
Regular taglist rules apply.
If I cannot tag you and the problem isn't corrected you will be removed
Blogs without age indicators & minors will not be added to the taglist
Blogs that ask to be tagged but then do not interact will be removed
I´m working on a new fanfic at the moment and it will hopefully be smething really well written. it already has around 1,3 k words and it doesn´t feel like i hit the half mark yet, i hope.
It´s going to be a Wooyoung x reader one, filled with angst, horror and some fluff :3
For everyone who´s interested, I´ll put a little teaser below the cut, it´s really not long, but i hope it will get your interest <3
no warnings apply for this teaser.
Lungs burning, yearning for air, calves cramping, yet you didn´t stop running. Your feet hit the ground hard, were you barefoot the whole time? How long were you running already? Time seemed stilled. With a pained yelp, you stumbled, your foot had met a stone, which made you fall to the ground. Clouds of dust busting up when your body collides with the floor, tiny pebbles digging into the skin of your palms. Slow footsteps approach you, echoing off the concrete that formed the whole structure. You knew what it was that followed you, who it was. It didn't make it any less frightening for you though. Your scraped palms burning when you pick yourself up again, tears stinging in your eyes when you hear him breathing behind you.
— this is his first life, and he is your first love.
pairing: park seonghwa x reader
universe: ANGELS AU, guardian angel!reader, human!seonghwa, non!idol au — mentions of angel!woo and mingi
genre: fluff, slight angst
word count: 1.8k (tba)
additional notes: this, again, is a work that i scrapped for months — and i actually rediscovered it last night. i didn't really plan on discontinuing it but college hates me so this was thrown into the 'works i'll never open again' folder (joking). anyways, i DO plan on finishing this so here's a preview !!
the reason why i thought of this plot was because i was going through the “first life” seonghwa tags on twitter and i just can’t help but cry, lol. i don't think there's much of a plot, really… just me expressing my feelings over hwa.
enjoy reading, i would greatly appreciate it if you leave feedback when you finish. if you want to be tagged when i post the final output, let me know!
“y/n, chief wants you to report to headquarters immediately,” wooyoung announces as he enters the shared room. you look up from the book you were reading, glasses perched between the bridge of your nose, before your eyebrows raise in surprise.
“did something happen? am i in trouble?” you ask, watching as he groggily walks towards his bed—his large, white wings knocking some things off your shelf along the way. you click your tongue in annoyance, sitting up. “ya, wooyoung! careful, will you?”
your friend huffs a breath, glancing back for a moment before looking back at you apologetically. “oh, sorry–” he mutters, his wings finally closing behind him as he lands on the bed with a thump. “and no, you’re not in trouble. i heard there’s going to be a child born in a few hours and you’re assigned to that post.”
your eyes light up at the mention of a child, a wide smiling crossing your face. “finally!” you say excitedly, getting up. it’s been awhile since you were assigned to become a guardian angel of a newborn child—because usually when they turn 18, certain guardian angels get removed from their post and get replaced with a new one. the world is fast-paced and it moves in ways where you still couldn’t get to understand. with decades being an angel yourself, the earth still fascinates you. it captivates you in a sense where people were created from dust—and in dust they still return the time death comes knocking on their door. you didn’t get to experience death considering you were immortal, but the memories of the children you took care of before were still fixated in your memory.
after you fix your bed and gather your thoughts, you turn to wooyoung laying down across you. woo became an angel just a few years ahead of you, but the moment you came, you were immediately engrossed on the loud, wide-eyed boy welcoming you with open arms. from that point on, he was the only one you ever stuck around with. he was your best friend, and you wouldn’t have had it another way.
noticing that he was huffing and puffing, with his wings twitching slightly, you chuckle under your breath. “bad day at work?” you ask, sitting down at the side of his bed. you hear him grumble for a moment with his head buried in the pillows before finally looking up.
“you need to save me,” he pleads, making you laugh loudly. “the kid i’m assigned to is driving me insane! she’s the definition of the little devil.”
“the headmaster wouldn’t like it with your sense of words.” you comment, hiding your grin.
wooyoung rolls his eyes, “i’m sure he’d agree with me. she gets in trouble almost all of the time! she tried climbing up the roof, y/n,” his hands grab on to your silk dress. “which 4 year old does that?”
“okay, where are her parents, exactly?”
“always out of town.”
“does she have nannies?”
“a ton. they don’t seem to get a hold of her.” he groans.
you bite your lip, stifling your laugh at your best friend’s current turmoil. “lucky for her she has you.”
“i know i’m immortal but the kid will probably become the death of me.”
“what’s her name again?”
“jeon taehee.”
you grin. “she’ll come around. give her a break, woo, she’s 4. toddlers usually get super adventurous with that age. i’m... not sure if most toddlers try to climb roofs though,” your response made wooyoung release a dramatic wail, which made you laugh even harder. “hopefully my kid won’t give me headaches.”
“if they don’t, let's switch kids.”
“no thanks,” you chuckle, leaning down to give him a soft, comforting kiss on the cheek before standing up. “i’ll get going now. i wouldn’t want mingi to give me a tardy slip again. see you soon?”
wooyoung nods. “be careful, alright?”
“always am!”
after saying goodbye to woo, you hurriedly rush down the hallways and into the main halls. the heavens was certainly a large and busy place, but angels had their own sort of working place, and it all depended on their status. there are angels with superior ranks, and they are rarely seen around the workplace because they’re the ones with major missions. one of the superiors is called the ‘principalities’ — and they guide the world, and they help send other angels on missions when humans are in danger or on the brink of death. the next are the archangels, and they’re the “chiefs”; they deal with matters with all human beings. lastly are the guardian angels, and that’s what you are. you’re assigned to a particular person the moment they’re born until the very last moments of their lives—but sometimes it varies and you’re only with them until they’re 18 before another angel gets appointed to them (like what you mentioned earlier).
you finally arrive at the chief archangel’s room, and as you enter, you see mingi sitting quietly by his desk as he flips through a certain amount of papers.
“good morning, chief.”
“ah y/n, you’re here,” mingi says, looking at you for a brief moment before standing up from his seat. he gives you a small smirk, “you’re surprisingly 5 minutes early before i officially declare you late.”
you give him a humored smile, “what did i tell you, chief? i do learn.”
he chuckles, handing over a stapled file to you—in which you gladly accept as you read it through. “anyways, here’s the child assigned to you,” he informs. “male. park seonghwa’s going to be his birth name—as decision of the parents. he’ll be born around 11:17 AM in jinju, gyeongnam, korea.”
you nod your head, flipping through the pages, “noted. what are his deeds or judgements from his past life? that portion here seems to be emp–” you pause, your heart leaping slightly in your chest as a wave of realization crashes over you. “–oh.” you see mingi’s smile getting wider as he nods.
“that’s right,” he responds. “little seonghwa’s in his first life.”
“oh gosh. this must be super exciting for him!” you couldn’t hide the excitement in the tone of your voice as you smile widely. “he’ll get to experience everything for the first time…”
mingi laughs softly, “since seonghwa’s going to experience things for the first time, i want you to look after him well. make sure he doesn’t get hurt, and always make him feel comforted by your presence, even if he doesn’t see you.”
“of course.”
“if anything urgent happens, you can always resort to changing into your human form,” he adds. “however, you shouldn’t stay in that form for a long period of time because it’ll be harder to regenerate. i’m sure you already know the basics in shifting forms, y/n.”
you nod, “yes, sir.”
“good. now head over to earth as quick as possible—your child’s waiting for you.”
with a wide smile crossing your face, you bow your head deeply out of respect before exiting the chief archangel’s room. you quickly made your way down the halls, out of the building, crossing the barrier between heaven and earth, before you finally arrived at your destination.
the delivery room was filled with loud cries at exactly 11:17 AM, and you felt your heart swell at the sight in front of you. it was a healthy baby boy, with eyes so beautiful that it looked like it held the entire universe. you were watching quietly from the corner of the room, unseen, observing as the doctors handed him over to his father—while his mother laid on the hospital bed, breathless, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as emotions rushed inside of her. all the pain she experienced was worth it, seeing the baby boy in her husband’s arms.
“may we know his name?” the nurse asks, holding a birth certificate to write his name on.
“seonghwa,” the woman says, smiling softly. “park seonghwa.”
years passed, seasons changed, and you were there for seonghwa as time went by. you watched him experience everything for the first time—his first words, first steps, first taste of his food, his first snow—everything. he was a quiet but happy kid, barely getting in trouble. he’d usually play with his older brother, but most of the time he was in his own little bubble. you’d watch over him from a specific distance, and sometimes if wooyoung’s not too busy watching over his child, he’d go visit you to see how you were doing. taehee was already 7 years old at this time, and she was finally being much of a less ‘pain in the ass’ as woo called it. you teased him, telling him you were right that she’ll eventually come around and become more behaved. even with his turmoils, you can see he was getting quite fond of taehee the same way you were fond of seonghwa.
as he grew older (and you stayed the same), he became a tall, handsome young man—but the beauty in his eyes remained; the way it sparkled still seemed like it held every little secret of the universe, his smile became warmer as he matured, the tone in his voice as gentle as the seabreeze. for someone in his first life, everything seemed to flow smoothly. he was a great son, he had a small entrusted circle of friends despite his seemingly popular status in school (in which you found out their names were hongjoong and yunho—you seemed to adore those boys, they were incredibly sweet friends to your seonghwa).
you’ve never shown yourself to seonghwa in the years where you were around him. there was always a distance—a grey area—as to which extent you can be with a human.
that is until something happened a week before he turned 18.
