lcvlettrs

[lcvlettrs]

that's shocking! ( sooji @ ash )

"What? That I think you're holding back, or that you're getting soft?" He could see it. They could all see it, but Jojo and Zak were too blinded by their little-sister image of Jinx, and Jeremy—who knew? But Kyumin did. Kyumin saw it as if it were all happening in slow motion. "I don't know why it's shocking to you," he neared her, fuming. "I'm always right! So tell me, and tell me honestly." His gaze pinned her in place, mere inches away. "That you're not."

[lcvlettrs]

why the long face? ( nabi @ ash )

God, did this girl pride herself on being annoying? Could she not pick up on the social cues, on the energy he was emitting, as if to say, "Leave me alone"? He also didn't feel like hashing it out; she'd get the hint soon enough. "S'not your business."

[lcvlettrs]

if you see gum on the street, leave it there. it isn't free candy. ( jojo @ insu )

What was wrong with this guy? With each passing moment with the 'Laeuge,' Insu felt disbelief that this was the gang of villains that had become so famous. First, the bulldozer with the shadows, then the house husband who was their leader, the girl who had tried to kill him for going into her room, and now this? What was wrong with them all? Nabi was crazy for this, too. What was he even supposed to say to that? "Thanks?" Was he joking? "Picking up gum off the ground would be unsanitary. No?

[lcvlettrs]

call me an elf one more time. ( sooji @ zak )

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?" Not that he cared, and he knew Jinx had tougher skin than that. "I call them how I see it." He cracks a grin, holding the cookies Jeremy made out of reach. "And, from the looks of it, you're the size of one of Santa's helpers, but…" She's clearly not as jolly, and he tsk's to mock her and chastise her. "How 'bout gremlin? Think that's more like it. Who fed ya after midnight, glitchface?"

[lcvlettrs]

Ash stands there, eyes locked on her face, watching the way her shoulders are pulled up like she's trying to shrink into herself. How she won't even look at him. He's hit with the a memory; her defeated slouch, the hollow resignation in her eyes. Back then, she'd just been another lost cause. A casualty of the hero world, with no one to save her. She hadn’t fought back. Not once. That had changed over time.

But now? She’s not resisting. She’s falling apart, but not fighting it. And that’s what pisses him off. It's harder to just walk away. With everyone else, he can detach. But with her? There’s something he can’t shake. His stomach twists, and he hates it.

Ash doesn’t feel for anyone. Not even for himself. So why does his chest feel like someone’s dropped a ton of bricks on it? He knows what it’s like to live under a father who would rather break him than love him, to breathe in the poisoned air of a mother who checked out long ago, medicating herself with everything from pills to oblivion. He’s been through it. But he didn’t let it consume him. Unlike Jinx. She’s still letting it swallow her whole. Maybe that’s what makes him so mad. She hasn’t figured it out yet.

His jaw tightens. No sympathy in his eyes, just a frozen anger. But when he takes a step toward her, something in him stirs. His hand moves before he can stop it, pulling her close. Into his chest. It's not kindness, not even close. But it’s not like he's being cruel either.

Maybe he’s trying to comfort her—or maybe he just wants to shut the noise in his head up. Get control over the situation. Whatever it is, it feels ugly. “It’s only gonna hurt you,” he mutters into her hair, voice low and rough, like he can’t quite decide if he's pissed or sorry for her. Hard to say. His eyes? Yeah, they're full of something. Anger, guilt… it’s hard to tell in the mess of it all. He doesn't really want to know anyways.

He can’t leave her behind. As much as he wants to, as much as it disgusts him, he can’t. There’s something about her that’s keeping him here—and it eats at him. It’s not compassion. It’s not tenderness. It’s something darker. Something that ties him to her, like he can’t walk away, even if he tried. "It's only going to make you feel worse."

for a moment, sooji feels fourteen again. feels like she’s sitting on that train to busan, knees pressed together, hands clenched in her lap, a single suitcase resting by her feet. sent away so her family wouldn’t have to deal with her. out of sight, out of mind. the memory of that trip comes rushing back—a bullet through time and space where everything else stopped. the quiet ache of abandonment had settled into her chest like bricks, one by one, until it crushed her.

and now, standing here with ash towering over her, she feels it again. that heavy, suffocating ache of being unwanted. her knees nearly buckle from the weight of it, a cruel déjà vu she can’t shake. her gaze drops, sticking stubbornly to the center of his chest because looking him in the eye would mean letting herself feel everything she’s tried to bury.

when ash speaks, his words barely register. she’s caught in the haze of memories—her father’s harsh voice echoing through the house, the sharp sting of her mother’s criticism, the hollow silence that followed when she tried to stand tall in the face of their rejection. she wonders, not for the first time, if she ever knew what she wanted.

had she ever had a dream that was truly hers? or had she spent her life chasing dreams her parents had wanted for her, molded herself into what she thought they’d love, only to find their love was something she could never earn? and when they finally sent her away, across the country like discarded luggage, what had she been left with? nothing but the desperate need to be wanted, to belong.

that desperation had carried her into the league, too. following ash, doing what he said, becoming what he needed. but no matter how much she gave, she never felt like she belonged there either. she doesn’t know what she’s trying to ask him for now. that thought circles in her mind like a fog, impossible to grasp. her throat tightens with frustration, emotion wedged there, making it hard to breathe.

her gaze drops lower, to the pavement, watching it blur into her worn sneakers. “i just wanted to see it,” she says vaguely, voice quiet, though the truth presses hard against her chest. she wants to see her old house.

she wonders if the sting will still be there, sharp and raw, like when she was younger. coming home to her father’s anger, her mother’s disapproval, the suffocating weight of never being enough. will the carvings on the tree outside still be there? the ones she made when she was small, tally marks her parents had once used to track her and soobin’s heights? will the letters she hid under the floorboards in her room still exist? letters she wrote to herself, back when she thought she could make her family love her if she just tried harder.

her voice cracks as she adds, “that’s all i want.” proof. proof that she had existed, that there had been something more than this endless cycle of trying and failing to be enough.

her shoulders tighten as she says the next words, the vulnerability slicing through her like a blade. she hates it. “if you won’t leave, come with me.” she doesn’t look at him, doesn’t let him see the rawness in her eyes. letting someone like ash witness her fragility feels unbearable, but she presses on. “can’t you just let me have this?”

[lcvlettrs]

Anger ran across his face like a flash. She said exactly what he wanted to hear, but somehow, it didn’t make him feel better. If anything, it made things worse. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. "And what, exactly, am I supposed to let you have?" he spat, each word dripping with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. A pity party? A chance to wallow in her own self-made misery? Was that it? She couldn’t even see the bigger picture—the real picture—the one he’d been trying to show her for years. He had dragged her out of mediocrity, handed her the opportunity to get revenge, to be something, and yet all she could do was complain. Ungrateful. So damn ungrateful.

He took a step toward her. Then another. Each step felt like dragging his feet through quicksand, but he couldn’t stop himself. Finally, he was standing right in front of her, towering over her with that look on his face—the one he’d been hiding behind a mask of control. His brows were drawn together like the lines of a storm, his eyes dark with the weight of everything he’d been holding in. "You want me to let you tear yourself apart inside, over this? Or should I just stand back while you gamble with getting caught, or worse?" His voice was low, so low it almost felt like a hiss, but honed with venom. "What you're doing? It's reckless." What was this? Self-sabotage? She was making it so hard to even think straight. He waved his hand toward the neighborhood—the place that felt like a thorn in his side. "It’d be even dumber to think I’d leave you here." He looked around, disgust creeping into his gut. He hated how she clung to this place. Maybe, just maybe, he needed to pay this place a visit some other time. Erase it off the map.

there’s something about ash’s words that makes sooji feel like maybe this is where she really belongs. but not in the comforting way someone might think. his criticism slices through the air like a nasty reminder, haunting her with echoes of the man she despised most in her life. and yet, standing here, she feels small—like the weight of the past is collapsing around her shoulders, heavy in this neighborhood she grew up in.

she doesn’t say anything. not at first. the pause between them stretches, long enough for silence to wash over them, cold and unwelcome. she stares at his back, her gaze drilling into him as if she can make him go away by sheer force of will. but he’s kyumin. and kyumin never does what she wants.

the air feels heavier here, like every breath has to push through something unseen. she looks past him, her gaze flickering over a memory, lingering on the life she’s long left behind. it feels unreal, like if she looks too closely, it might all unravel, leaving nothing but the mess she’s always tried to avoid. “yeah,” she finally offers, her voice low, quiet. it’s not the kind of quiet born of hesitation but the kind you use when you’re scared the world might notice you. like speaking too loud might force her to confront everything she’s been running from. “i know.”

and she does. she knows exactly what he means, even if she won’t say it aloud. she realizes this is equivalent to turning herself in with her hands up, inviting surrender but believing you’ll make it out unscathed. and maybe she will. sooji has a way of disappearing when she needs to. like a houdini act, slipping out of bonds no one thought she could escape. it might be harder with him here, though.

she swallows hard, the lump in her throat burning as she forces herself to meet his gaze when he finally turns. her lips press into a thin line before she speaks again. “did you only come for this?” it's always a fight with him. her features twist, half in scrutiny, half in something softer she doesn’t want to name. hurt, maybe. “to give me this lecture?”

her words carry an edge, but it’s dulled by the faint whisper of a scoff that escapes her. it’s barely a sound, like the ruminants of a laugh that never formed. “you gave it," she informs him, as if to remind him just in case he didn't know. "you’re so smart, i’m so dumb,” snark laces into the faintest of breaths. the sarcasm hangs in the air, brittle and pointed. “if it bothers you so much, leave.” her voice falters just slightly on the last word, but she pushes through, letting out a faint sigh. “can't you let me have this?” her eyes flicker briefly, vulnerability slipping through the cracks before she tightens her expression, forcing herself back behind her walls.

[lcvlettrs]

"So, you know this is stupid." She knows she's an idiot? He freezes mid-step, realizing he can no longer hear the sound of her feet scuffing against the sidewalk. "You know you're stupid?" he corrects, louder this time, like he's spelling it out for her. Still with his back to her, he takes a moment to steel his expression; calm, indifferent, unaffected. At least, that's the mask he needs before he turns around. He can’t let her see the trouble twisting behind his eyes, the irritation he’s barely holding down. This is a posh neighborhood, all perfectly trimmed hedges and surveillance cameras. He’s certain Sooji is screwing with the footage somehow, scrambling it just enough to keep her invisible. Maybe even more. Clearly, she's been keeping her tricks to herself, getting stronger without telling him.

"What are you, a masochist?" he snaps, finally turning to face her once he feels like he can manage it. What the hell is so great about this place? "I don’t know why you do this to yourself," he’s frozen where he stands, staring at her. The space between them feels immeasurable, though she’s only a few steps away. But it’s been like this for years now. Every year, it feels like another mile stretches between them—a gap that keeps growing, no matter how close they appear to be.

the memories sooji had sown together along her quiet walk—every fragment of longing, every thread of anxiety bubbling up as she drew closer to the place she once called home—had unraveled the moment her eyes landed on him. ash. as always, his presence loomed larger than the weight of anything she carried. what she held heavy in her mind and heart crumbled, replaced by the sharp edges of his existence.

a scoff escaped her lips when his shoulder brushed against hers, irritation threading her brows together in a way that felt like his signature. somehow, he always managed to pull this expression out of her, an annoyance so familiar it felt as though it belonged more to him than to her. she hated how easy he made it.

most nights, she would have ricocheted a sharp comment back, something quick and biting to let him know she wasn’t the type to back down. but tonight, all she could do was bristle. take it. let the moment linger without retaliation because she couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught—caught in a web of her own making, embarrassed by the vulnerability she had let slip. how foolish it felt, missing a part of her life that was anything but perfect. and if anyone could twist the knife deeper, it was ash.

“thanks for the life advice,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. her pace faltered, her steps slowing until she stopped entirely. maybe if she stood still long enough, he’d keep walking, leave her behind to wallow in peace. to wallow in… what? grief? pity? self-loathing? the emotions tangled together, a knot she couldn’t loosen no matter how hard she tried.

but ash had never been one to grant her grace.

“though I don’t think it’s that smart either to come loitering out here,” she mumbled under her breath, he'd followed her after all. a bitter, self-deprecating thought followed: perhaps she should have kicked him harder last time. really let him have it. maybe she deserved the sting of it just as much as he did.

[lcvlettrs]

"Thanks." For everything. Honestly, if it weren’t for Taeyang, he'd probably be sitting up here feeling like an extra in some sad drama. Alone. Thinking about Lily. Yeah, embarrassing. Not in some weird, obsessive way, just… weird in the way that things were changing between them. It was like he was afraid to mess it up, to be that guy who worries her over stupid stuff. He didn’t want to go home, even though there was about a 0.1% chance she’d even see him like this. But then there was Taeyang—his constant reminder that when everything felt like it was about to fall apart, he was there. Always.

He felt a little victorious when Taeyang admitted the view was better at night. Like, victorious victorious, not just "okay, that’s cool." Axel reached over and linked his arm under Taeyang’s legs he had tucked close to his chest like some sort of comfy pillow. "Ah, so you’re admitting you were wrong?" he said, a hint of a smirk creeping in. Then Taeyang asked something that made Axel pause. He glanced down, catching sight of Taeyang with his eyes closed. They looked… different. Longer, maybe? Maybe it was the night playing tricks on him. He squeezed Taeyang’s legs just a little tighter, like it might force the guy to open his eyes and pay attention.

"Just over there," Axel said, pointing into the distance like his finger was some kind of laser pointer. He held it there, trying to make Taeyang see what he was seeing, even though that probably wasn’t how laser pointers worked. "Above the park. Next to the intersection. By that weird statue no one really gets." He kept his finger pointed, like somehow the force of his will would make Taeyang’s eyes follow. "That's where I went to school." The words came out rawer than he expected. Maybe it was because it felt like a piece of him that he hadn’t really talked about. Until now.

taeyang doesn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch between them, taut like a thread. the truth, unwelcome and stubborn, sits heavy in his chest. of course, he was worried—that’s why he turned back, why he’s here now, leaning into axel even as exhaustion tugs at him. but taeyang doesn’t speak it aloud. words, sometimes, only make things more complicated, and he’s always preferred the quiet kind of care, the kind that doesn’t need explaining.

axel’s weight against him is a comfort, a soft anchor that grounds him. it’s like the weight of a blanket, settling over him just enough to ease the sharp edge of his worries. he’d made a u-turn right back to him—now here, on the floor beside axel, feeling the subtle press of his cheek against his hair. it’s absurd and fleeting, like an affectionate cat in one of its rare tender moments. taeyang exhales, a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just enough to betray the tightness that had been there. the apology murmured against him is met with a soft hum—acknowledgment, maybe, or something quieter. forgiveness, wrapped in silence.

(Were you worried?)

taeyang’s lips twitch, a ghost of a smile, not quite a smile, but close. "you already know the answer." he knows axel must already know, deep down. but still, he wonders—does axel need him to admit it, or is he being cruel?

“would I have come out here if I wasn’t?” he asks, voice soft, the truth slipping out before he can stop it. there’s no edge in his tone, no accusation—just that tired honesty, that unspoken care he doesn’t know how to bottle.

he shifts, resting his chin on his knee so axel’s cheek is now pressed to his temple. the closeness grounds him. the city lights blur in his tired gaze, but in this moment, taeyang finds something steady—axel’s breathing, the warmth of his presence.

"honestly," taeyang murmurs, pressing into axel just a little more, a quiet payback.

“i just didn’t want you to feel like you were alone,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. because taeyang knows that feeling too well. and there’s no guarantee axel doesn’t feel it, even with taeyang here, but god, does he hope he doesn’t. he hopes, somehow, that his presence has helped, that it’s eased whatever was weighing on axel, whatever had been gnawing at him. taeyang’s no miracle worker. but it’s in his heart to help, in his nature to reach out—even if his hand might be swatted away. he’s just glad axel is always there to reach back. that they always meet in the middle. that axel lets him be his support for tonight.

and with that thought swirling in his mind, he doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t explain. because he doesn’t need to. axel is here. he’s not alone, left to fester in his own thoughts.

“i’ll admit though," he surrenders. "it’s definitely prettier at night,” taeyang says, closing his eyes for a second. “what’s your favorite sight from up here?” he asks the question gentle, throwing it out into the open, because though axel may not be as sentimental as he is, taeyang knows this is the city axel was born in. the place he grew up, went to school. taeyang wonders if there’s a way to see it through axel’s eyes, more than just the confessions exchanged on occasion in japan.

[lcvlettrs]

Kyumin knew this path. He knew it like the back of his hand. How the hell could he not? He’d studied her for months before everything unfolded. It wasn’t exactly a secret that he didn’t trust Jinx—he’d been waiting for her to slip up ever since they were reckless teens. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on being this… sappy. The whole thing made him sick. She was clinging to her past, as usual. It was pathetic, really. Every so often, there'd be these little moments, when her mask cracked just enough for him to catch glimpses of her old self, still tied down by that invisible rope of shame. He’d even tried to cut it off for her. Look where that got him. So why the hell did she keep holding on?

It pissed him off more than he cared to admit. Wasting her time on these pointless walks. A walk down memory lane. Disgusting. But of course, he followed her anyway. Like a ghost, he hung back, moving unnoticed through the shadows. He knew her too well. Whether she liked it or not, he knew her better than anyone. So when she turned around, her eyes wide with that first flash of panic, a strange déjà vu gripped him. It reminded him of the first time she'd seen him, but not the first time he had seen her. No, that wasn’t how it worked for him.

And then, just like that, the panic faded away. A different, more familiar expression took over her face—something he’d seen a thousand times. That soft flicker of recognition. He bit back a laugh as she threatened to kick him. Honestly, the fear in her eyes was almost comical. "Boo," he taunted. He was being an asshole, sure. But it felt good. His irritation from earlier shifted into something else; amusement, maybe? He nudged her with his shoulder as he walked past, just to make her mad. "You should really be more observant," he lectured, his tone cutting. "This place? Not the best for daydreaming, glitch-face," he added, the nickname Zak had slapped on her. Sure, it sounded like something straight out of a 90s Disney Channel bully’s mouth, but there was an odd affection behind it when it came from their little group. Something like… camaraderie. If you could call it that.

💿 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ... now playing , @lcvlettrs

( 🎧 ) ↝ back to the old house by the smiths .

" 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙜𝙤, 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 "

it’s a terribly familiar path sooji walks tonight, one she chooses to tread now and then, though it always leaves her aching. why does she do this to herself? there’s no good reason. except , perhaps that she’s always had a gift for self-inflicted pain. especially now, with the league’s leash loosened just enough to let her wander. why this place? why tonight? she doesn’t know. there’s no logic behind it, just the pull of something she can’t ignore. her footsteps trace the route she once rode to school, back when life was confined to books, schedules, and the suffocating predictability of adolescence. the memories rise like ghosts from the pavement, and an odd, gnawing ache builds in her chest, clawing its way toward her throat. she hated that time. it was unhappy, suffocating—probably the most miserable she’d ever been. and yet, the simplicity of it all haunts her. the absence of mayhem, the clarity of the struggle, even in its harshness. she isn’t sure if she mourns the girl she used to be or the one she might’ve become. probably both. probably neither. but as she walks, she can feel it: the weight of a life that was never lived pressing down on her shoulders. the house she grew up in looms closer, every step shrinking her further into the shell of her jacket. she’s glad her family left it behind, abandoning the phantom of her childhood not long after she disappeared. the thought of them finding her now—or worse, of her being forced to confront their disappointment—makes her stomach turn. her thoughts are thick and heavy when she feels it: a presence. she stops in her tracks, her breath caught, head snapping around. her pulse pounds in her ears until she sees him. her tension crumbles, and the breath she didn’t realize she was holding rushes out in a cloud of white into the night air. “oh my god,” she mutters, her voice low and sharp, the relief cutting her words into jagged pieces. “you scared the shit out of me.” she raises her leg as if to kick him, though the effort is half-hearted at best. “don’t sneak up on people like that,” she grumbles, as if the act of speaking could steady the nerves still buzzing under her skin.

[lcvlettrs]

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” It would be foolish to believe a word coming out of his mouth. The lie Taeyang feeds Axel makes him apply a little more pressure to the way his head leans on the other’s, a quiet form of retaliation. He’s sure Taeyang is exhausted. It worries him that Taeyang turned back from going home just to find him here, so late at night.

“You shouldn’t have gone out of your way for something like this,” he grumbles, though he feels a smidge of guilt. He feels bad for not responding to Taeyang, even though he noticed the way his name lit up on his phone screen with incoming messages. Instead of pressing more weight onto the other, Axel rubs his cheek against Taeyang’s messy hair—the way it sticks out in different directions, rebellious. Axel’s always found it a little funny, but now he tries to ask for forgiveness in silence. Quietly pleading for Taeyang not mad that he didn't reply when he should have.

“Sorry,” he finally manages, and peeks at Taeyang from this angle. All he can see is the slope of his nose, his lashes extra long from up here. He looks… silly. A faint, barely-there smile slips onto Axel’s face. He wonders if Taeyang can feel it, his cheek pressed against his head. He hopes not.

“Thanks for finding me.” Taeyang didn’t have to. He really shouldn’t have, but there’s no denying that Axel feels just a bit better now that he’s here, for no reason in particular. “It’s easier for me to calm down when I can see everything like this,” he adds wistfully. “Were you worried?”

taeyang’s body relaxes at the sound of axel’s scoff. his gaze softens, its edges growing warmer despite axel’s scrutiny—because it’s true. taeyang is biased. but in the back of his mind, he thinks that even if his existence weren’t tethered to the star at the center of their solar system, he’d still prefer daylight. he’d still be an early riser with a “bedtime.” axel’s right, though. for that, taeyang can only stare out at the city’s twinkling lights, a sight he doesn’t often take the time to appreciate.

“i do,” he finally admits, breaking the silence. he likes the quiet, after all. taeyang has never been one for crowds, which makes it ironic that he ended up in this line of work. boseong’s modest population of thirty-seven thousand suited him just fine. tokyo, on the other hand—tokyo had been a shock. fifteen years old, dropped into a city of nine million. it was overwhelming then, and it still would be now. taeyang likes peace. he likes being alone. sometimes.

with that thought, his eyes drift to axel. the sharp lines of axel’s profile are silhouetted against the faint glow of the city lights. “just not when it feels like this,” he adds softly. the weight of axel’s head leaning against his draws a quiet exhale from taeyang’s lips—not annoyance, but something closer to contentment. he turns his gaze back to the cityscape.

“i wasn’t tired,” he lies, the words falling flat. he knows axel will see through him without even looking. that’s the downside of breathing the same air as someone for so long. you become a tangle of shared experiences and habits, a knot so tight it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. sometimes, taeyang can’t remember which parts of himself were truly his before axel came along and started rubbing off on him—for better or worse.

“i also…” his voice trails off. “you didn’t message back.” it had been a rough day; the matching bruises on their bodies were proof enough of that. his gaze lowers. “so i figured you’d be up here. you always find somewhere high up when you’re feeling…” taeyang makes a sound, the same half-formed explanation he gave earlier, one that doesn’t quite capture the melancholia of watching the city from the watchtower at this hour. but just like before, he knows axel will understand.

“you’ve always been like that,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain.

[lcvlettrs]

Taeyang makes that sound again—the one Axel knows means disapproval. He can practically hear the thought in his head: too droopy, too sad, too brooding for Taeyang’s taste. But Axel can’t help it. It’s his style, and Taeyang’s judgment doesn’t even matter, not really. Axel lets out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re biased,” he mutters to himself, though he keeps it locked inside his head.

Instead of pushing Taeyang away, Axel just lets him squeeze into his side, even though there’s plenty of room. It’s weird, but Axel prefers it like this—he’d never say that out loud. But in this crazy, unpredictable journey, Taeyang has become something like a pillar to him. It’s a little easier to keep himself from tipping over when Taeyang’s right there, solid and steady.

Axel glances over at Taeyang, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you’d like the quiet.” Despite how bright Taeyang could shine when he wanted to, the guy was a total recluse. Always preferred the quiet over crowds, the shadows over the spotlight.

Without even thinking, Axel leans his head on Taeyang’s, eyes drifting back to the city in front of them. "But really," he continues, "why are you up? This kind of thing's hard for you."

as he gets closer, taeyang can see axel more clearly now—not just through the reflection in three-inch glass, but with his own eyes, (though they take a moment to adjust to the darkness). his knuckles are bruised again, and taeyang notices immediately, the shadows deepening the split in his skin. he wonders if axel even felt it when it happened, or if it was one of those nights—the kind where the hurt bleeds too far inside for the outside to register.

taeyang doesn't bother answering axel's question. there are too many reasons—reasons he doesn't want to dive into himself. and he's partly absorbed in other things, too. without a word, he moves to sit beside him, lowering himself slowly to the floor. he pulls his knees up, their shoulders brushing faintly, fitting snugly next to axel until one of them asks him to move. for now, though, he just stares out into the artificial light that overcasts the city he's come to love. after all, it’s where his mom was from.

"i think i like the view better during the day," taeyang says after a long silence. "less…" he makes an indistinguishable sound, a mix of a grunt and a hum. it’s a noise that seems to invite understanding, as though axel will read between the lines and decipher a language that's only known between the two of them.

[lcvlettrs]

PROMPTS FROM ELF *  assorted dialogue from the 2003 film, adjust as necessary

did you have to borrow a reindeer to get down here?

i get more action in a week than you've had in your entire life.

i suggest you wipe that stupid smile off your face before i come over there and smack it off.

call me an elf one more time.

you sit on a throne of lies.

i think you're really beautiful and i feel really warm when i'm around you and my tongue swells up.

i've been to new york thousands of times.

if you see gum on the street, leave it there. it isn't free candy.

who the heck are you?

i'm santa claus.

don't tell him what you want. he's a liar.

you disgust me. how can you live with yourself?

you're a fake.

you smell like beef and cheese.

son of a nutcracker!

why are you smiling like that?

i just like to smile. smiling's my favorite.

the best way to spread christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.

i think we should call security.

i like to whisper too.

what's your favorite color?

you did it! congratulations!

we can't just throw him out in the snow!

this place reminds me of santa's workshop... except it smells like mushrooms and everyone looks like they want to hurt me.

you are so weird.

have you seen these toilets? they're ginormous.

do you remember me?

you like sugar, huh?

you have such a pretty face, you should be on a christmas card.

sounds like somebody needs to sing a christmas carol.

i can sing, i just choose not to sing.

there's no difference.

we sing all the time!

wow, you're fast. i'm glad i caught up to you.

i waited 5 hours for you.

why is your coat so big?

so... good news. i saw a dog today.

how was school? was it fun?

do you have any friends?

reach out in front of you and take a sip. don't look.

it tastes like a crappy cup of coffee.

i didn't know you were naked.

i forgot to give you a hug.

i thought maybe we coudl make gingerbread houses and eat cookie dough and go ice skating, and maybe even hold hands.

why the long face?

does somebody need a hug?

i'm a cotton-headed ninny-muggins.

what do you want? some money?

so how'd you get here?

i don't belong here. i don't belong anywhere.

where do you want me to go?

get out of my life!

i'm getting too old for this.

that's shocking!

i think your car is pretty.

you don't look so good.

your costume is pretty.

where did you say you were from again?

why is your name on the desk?

[lcvlettrs]

Axel heard Taeyang, but all he did was shrug.

His fists were tight, gripping the fabric of his pants just above his thighs. His knuckles were sore and bruised from the day’s work, burned enough that the medics had to treat them with quirks instead of just the usual equipment. The noise of the day kept playing in his head like a broken record, but maybe the real reason he didn’t want to leave the quiet was because he didn’t want Lily to see him like this.

She wouldn’t be awake at three a.m. His brain tried to assure him of that, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t move from his seat, staring out at the city. The silence between them hung heavy. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low. “I don’t need much.”

Axel stole a glance at Taeyang.

“I think I should be the one asking you that,” Taeyang replied. He always slept early. He had a “bedtime,” as Axel liked to joke. And when his partner did have to stay up, it was only after charging up for hours in preparation.

taeyang’s footsteps echoed softly in the empty corridor, a lonely rhythm swallowed by the stillness of the night. he didn’t look at the wall-mounted clock as he passed it— he didn’t need to. he could feel how far the hours had unraveled, how distant the sun still was. because nights always felt wrong on him, like wearing someone else’s skin. the daylight was where he belonged, his powers pulling him toward it like gravity. he was meant to rise with the glowing orb that lit up the sky, not wander in its absence.

but tonight, tonigh, he couldn’t rest. the mission had left it's mark. a shadow in his chest, a lingering unease that clawed at the edges of his mind. and axel. the silence from him in the aftermath had been louder than any words. taeyang hadn’t even hesitated. he knew where his partner would be.

the observation deck was quiet when he arrived, steeped in a haze of muted light from the city below. the windows stretched wide, an endless reflection of dark glass that seemed to hum faintly in the stillness. and, there axel was, just as taeyang had known he would be—his back curved like he was trying to fold into himself, his knees pulled close, his head turned away from him and rather toward the distant glow of the skyline.

for a moment, taeyang paused, his breath catching. the faint tilt of the other's head as he approached was small, almost imperceptible, but it steadied him. enough to allow him to draw himself closer.

“couldn’t sleep?” taeyang asked, his voice quiet, threading carefully through the dark.

[lcvlettrs]

OPEN TO: @imvgincs

WHO: Arson [Axel] & Sun Eater [Taeyang]

LOCATION: The Agency [Watch Tower 3:00AM / Taeyang's Birthday]

It had been a long day. When was it not, though? Coming back to Korea, Axel found it hard to go home. It was easier to stay here. Ready for anything. Relaxing, he told himself, staring at the city below. It used to be a place he loved, but now it felt foreign. Maybe he never really fit in. He liked being alone. But then he heard footsteps—slow, echoing against the marble floor. Axel didn’t need to turn around. He knew it was Taeyang.

[lcvlettrs]

The Elite Four? Ouch. Kyumin felt that remark deep in his pride. But hey, two could play at that game. He leaned casually against the bathroom door frame, a smirk creeping onto his face as he listened to Sooji ramble about how it wasn’t her fault she’d become one of the region’s most infamous Gym Leaders. She was so annoying. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he snickered, resisting the urge to invade her space, to poke and prod just a little more. He had to remember: her ghost-type Pokémon were always lurking around. Out of sight, yes, but definitely not out of mind. “Sorry, but you lost the right to know what Team Rocket’s up to when you turned down my offer,” he said, pressing a hand theatrically to his chest. “Why can’t I check on a friend?” He emphasized “friend” even though she’d shot that idea down more times than he could count. “Seriously, you need to get out of this dump." He made a face, trying to comprehend why she loved this place so much. "At this rate, you’ll be a ghost yourself.”

sooji attempted to pay him no attention. it was easier to pretend he wasn’t there, even if he talked a mile a minute. as she stepped into her bathroom, she tuned out the noise, reaching for her toothbrush like it was a lifeline. the sleepiness still clung to her, but brushing her teeth felt like a small victory against the morning haze.

she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush, glancing at him through the mirror with a glare that shot at him like a dart. “they pick fights with me,” she muttered, foam bubbling around her words. what a way to call the kettle black. not that he’d care. she held up a finger, a silent warning for him to hold his tongue—though she knew that was futile.

spitting into the sink, she bent down to splash water on her face, trying to wash away the annoyance that was creeping into her thoughts. straightening up, she turned to face him, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “ya, know. being grateful feels like a bit of a stretch. your presence is giving me a headache,” she jabbed, her frustration simmering just below the surface. “it’s feeling a lot more like torture.”

crossing paths with him was her biggest regret. “and you,” she continued, narrowing her eyes, “literally steal from kids. that’s like taking candy from a baby.” she scoffed, the ridiculousness of the situation swirling around her like the toothpaste foam she had just spat out. “i just mind my own business! is it my fault i ended up in this position?” it was the farthest thing she'd wanted.

a small, mischievous part of her wished one of her ghost pokémon could possess him, just for a moment, and walk him out of her home. “what? team rocket has pto now?” she shot back, her exasperation mixing with a reluctant laugh. “you're no longer in the elite four and now you have all the time in the world? can we cut to the chase? what do you even want?”

[lcvlettrs]

Kyumin let out a snort that could’ve startled a sleeping Snorlax. “As if you’re any better,” he shot back, rolling his eyes so hard they might’ve rolled right out of his head. Seriously, how was he supposed to believe she had any friends who weren’t her freaky Pokémon? She was a total weirdo, obsessed with ghost-types like they were the coolest thing since sliced bread—spoiler alert: they weren’t. She practically lived in this crumbling arcade like it was the headquarters for social outcasts.

He followed her inside, not caring to shut the door. “You bully kids,” he said, keeping pace, “holding their badges over their heads like you’re dangling candy in front of a baby.” He smirked, leaning in just enough to feel like he was actually part of the conversation.

“Honestly, you should be grateful I’m even here,” he added, feigning an air of importance. “You ought to be singing my praises. I mean, I've graced you with my presence?” He gave a mock bow, half-expecting her to roll her eyes right back at him.

sooji’s glare deepened when ash’s hand blocked her from doing what she’d been determined to do—slamming the door right in his face. but instead of putting up much of a fight, she let out a snort at his ridiculous comment. “who lied to you and told you we’re friends?” she shot back, shooting a pointed look at gengar, who clearly shared her disdain for the intruder. with one last, defiant middle finger directed at the man who'd woke her up, she turned on her heels and headed toward the bathroom.

she half-expected him to close the door himself or maybe let one of the pokémon lurking in her arcade do it for him. “why are you here, anyway?” she called over her shoulder, her voice loud enough to echo through the vicinity. “don’t you have kids to make cry? dreams to crush?”

[lcvlettrs]

Kyumin smiled like a cat that had just knocked over a vase, and honestly, maybe he was a bit sadistic. Watching Sooji fume was a favorite pastime. He could barely suppress a chuckle when her eyebrows scrunched together. And when she shot him the finger? Oh, that was the cherry on top of his twisted little sundae. "Uh-uh," he chided, leaning against the doorframe with a cocky smirk. His hand shot out, blocking the door like it was an old-school video game boss. "Now is that any way to treat a friend?" He peeked inside, spotting her trusty purple Pokémon, glaring like it had just found out someone had eaten the last slice of cake. Sooji’s Pokémon were always so defensive, like tiny, UGLY bodyguards ready to throw down at a moment’s notice. Kyumin couldn’t help but feel a spark of happiness—this was his favorite game. She was just too easy to play with, like the idiot she was.

as soon as his words reached her ears, sooji's brows furrowed, and she immediately regretted pulling herself out of bed. she rolled her eyes at the sight of him pinching his nose. "be happy i even opened the door," she shot back, exasperation bubbling up. enough so, that she could hear her gengar trotting up beside her. "clearly, it wasn't anything important—"she raised her middle finger, already leaning to shut the door on him, her patience wearing thin.