#loreteez

[capefoxalix]

A Map of Strictland and the areas around

No one ask me how long this took to make.

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Golden Hour 2’s Secret Words

The MV trailer for Ice on My Teeth came out 20 minutes ago and I’ve already found something hidden in that 37 second of video.

After watching it frame by frame I uncovered the hidden message that will help all of us Loretiny in the coming days. Words that make me giddy with excitement for how the story will go from here.

At the end when they all sit down, words flash over the screen:

We don’t have a time

I hope this helps with theory crafting! If you use my screenshots plz credit me ✨

I’ll update again soon with more of my GH Trailer observations and deeper insight about what they could mean but I wanted to get this out into the world asap! Atiny Fighting!!💕

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Yes!! Please, I need this so much. Generally I dislike reading/writing fanfic about real people. But Ateez’s lore is written so well that the Ateez’s characters within the story deserve their own recognition.

Like Lore!Yeosang, I would 100% write an in depth character study about how his childhood feelings of being imprisoned in the life his parents laid out for him connect to how he feels when he’s literally imprisoned. (Fever Epilouge on loop is just crying and then “ATEEZ PRESENT-“)

But! I personally love this idea sm. Because real Ateez is so sweet and Lore!Ateez is so angst, but I love them both sm!

there needs to be a fandom for ateez lore.

not for the members themselves as real people but for the FICTIONAL versions found in the diaries.

i need people to start making angst edits and fan fictions about the fictional characters the idols portray in the diaries.

yunho is one of the most tragically emotional characters ever and he’s trapped in an amazing kpop group’s lore.. the character deserves a fandom as well as the member!!

i want people to make strickland-sonas and have head canons!!

[onehunnit]

Cinema Studies Minor Gets Super Into Analyzing K-Pop Videos 2.2

Disclaimer: I'm still a student, no where near an expert, I will be wrong in some technical aspects. Also my interpretations are my opinion which means you may disagree and that's okay. Awesome even! Just be normal about it fr. This is also very out of order bc that's how my brain works. Also I am but a baby loretiny, which means my interpretations are shaky at best compared to what's been established. But the lore is confusing anyway so....

The World EP.FIN: Trailer Analysis pt 2: Sections

THIS WAS WRITTEN NOVEMBER 11TH 2023

Structure, Lines, & Perspective

Yo, Get This Camera Out Of My Face

Who Put Stanley Kubrick In My Album Trailer?  

The Entire Set Crew Needs To Be Sucked Silly (Again)

Black and White In The Lore

Structure, Lines, & Perspective:

There are so many fucking lines. There are SO. MANY. LINES just look at the trailer again for me okay? Try and find a curve in the set. There are so few, it's astonishing. 

Now for a place called Strictland, you may expect to see strictness. Well, you'd be right! 

To touch back on German Expressionism, lines are used to imply rigidity and structure. Strictland is strict, and thus characterized by straight lines and sharp, clear angles. There is little softness, it's all hard [insert other adjectives here]. 

The lines in general lead our eyes to the action and provide awesome contrast with our characters. I would insert screenshots however. I will not

Yo, Get This Camera Out Of My Face (why he smiling like that?) 

Close-ups and lighting are on the mind due to watching The Passion of Joan of Arc and talking about low-key lighting with my film professor for an hour. Low-key lighting is very even, and in this case I think it's used for cosmetic reasons. Listen, flawless skin is not just skincare and make-up, lighting is huge in it too! 

But it gives off the effect of being youthful, which helps since the youth are the new generation and Loreteez are ushering in a revolution and change comes with that.

Who Put Stanley Kubrick In My Album Trailer? 

Yeah so Hongjoong is doing the Kubrick stare. The subject tilts their head down while looking directly into the camera. This naturally casts shadow and is unsettling as it breaks the fourth wall. Originally used to depict characters who just tipped over into madness/insanity and its rly creepy, which brings into question Hongjoong's intentions. Is he happy that the girl rejected him? Is he planning something more sinister?

The Entire Set Crew Needs To Be Sucked Silly (Again)

Note: Loreteez is used interchangeably to mean the members in the lore as a whole and as the “A” Universe members. Halateez is used to describe the “Z” Universe members. 

I just want to talk about a few shots in particular that made me go crazy insane when I saw them. This is where the interpretations start going by the way.

This one is soooo perfect to me. You don’t understand. So let’s get into it. 

Mise-en-scene (MES) is a term that boils down to everything you see on screen: set, props, costumes, actors, blocking, lighting, anything! 

It’s separated clearly into foreground (desk and Wooyoung) and background (Yunho and the machines), though for our purposes we’re going to call Yunho’s field of depth the mid-ground and the curtains the background. 

In all fields the technology is old and anchored, contrast that with the futuristic holograms in this shot: 

Which emphasizes the binary between old and new. This is also the first time (if i recall correctly) Loreteez is using this technology, which indicates growth in their cause over all. 

Back to the first shot. While the foreground has all this older technology, it still fits in with Strictland as, from what we have seen, don’t have modern/future tech at their disposal. And why would they have it readily available if their whole deal is suppressing human emotion (“The disease is human emotion” - The Awakening of Summer (Rhythm Ta) Kingdom Stage) and expression. You don’t have a need to develop better technology. 

The mid-ground is much of the same; straight lines running straight across. Everything is old etc. But there are some round lights that break it up. Roundness? Out of the ordinary, right?

The background is more interesting though, because you finally get some curvature in this. The curtains are loose fabric and they drape which adds a different texture and shows that it’s not constrained to fall a certain way.

Pictured: Notes written on the screen.: Structure in machines, straight lines ins background / Fabric = loose, curves, along w/ circle and roundness

In all, the progression of structure to flowiness presents how Loreteez is, looming over the background, and a change from the rigidity of Strictland.

The second shot comes later, with Hongjoong stopping in front of the Academy student. She is standing in a cubby created by the walls angling upward, dividing the scene. Obviously too, Hongjoong is in all black while she is in white

Black and White in The Lore

As a quick aside: Black and White in the Ateez universe is so curious to me. Black in our society is understood as “bad” and white “good” and Ateez uses that binary to create shades of grey (which we WILL be discussing more thank you very much!) and nuances to the social issues being presented and critiqued. Strictland is white, and in that society, it is the “good”; saving its citizens from a disease. Loreteez are “bad” because they are rising against the norms and trying to change them, threatening the institutions Strictland has put into place. 

While initially we saw Halateez as “evil” due to their masked appearances and black garb when they first appeared, it became clear in Answer that they are not the antagonists, rather on the same side as our protagonists, Loreteez. 

But beyond that lineation: In this particular shot, the lines of the wall and the people walking past make an invisible line for Hongjoong and the girl to cross to be pulled to either side, good or bad.  The invisible line being made of people in movement and the inanimate wall is not lost to me either; showing how barriers are not just physical but can be social/psychological

But beyond that lineation: In this particular shot, the lines of the wall and the people walking past make an invisible line for Hongjoong and the girl to cross to be pulled to either side, good or bad.  The invisible line being made of people in movement and the inanimate wall is not lost to me either; showing how barriers are not just physical but can be social/psychological

14 comes up here, that is a # to look out for. Maybe the number of songs? JK LMAO that'll never happen 😭 <- I wrote this before the trackless came out okie?

Despite all my black and white talk, the curious thing about the color grading is that there is no true white in the costumes, it is all grey. There is a mix, we have moved on from the clarity and have moved into the murky soup. The grey and nuance are exacerbated in the next shot.

In this, the only thing I can think of is the idea of yin and yang, that at the heart of good and evil there is the other. Again, there is an invisible line separating the girl and Hongjoong. On the girl's side are her white shoes and the darkness behind her. On Hongjoong's side is the black of his attire and the highlights in front of him. But it is not white, rather it is grey, which is a transitional color.

But at the end, the girl does not take his outstretched hand, she walks on, he smiles (quite evilly tbh, go back to the Kubrick stare section). Out of what? Pride maybe? Everything is going to plan? He's certainly not unhappy so…

But that concludes part 2! I might do more, but who knows?

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Y'ALL I THINK THIS IS THE LORE BOOK HJ WAS TALKING ABOUT

IM GONNA EXPLODE IT LOOKS SO GOOD AHHHHHH

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Wonderland and the Rabbit (Theory)

I thought by now my brain would’ve run out of Ateez theories but I was very wrong. Last night I was aimlessly scrolling the internet when I came across all of the rabbit-centric promotional material Ateez used for their latest comeback The World Ep. Fin: Will, that I had somehow missed seeing before their actual comeback.

I also discovered Mito which I had seen before but didn’t realize was also related to the comeback. I guess just I accepted without question that they would carry a little stuffed rabbit around for no reason. (Apparently Mito is short for Michin Tokki or Crazy Rabbit.)

Of course that set the gears in my brain turning. Crazy Form has a few things in common with Wonderland, (mainly the coats) but not enough that I would immediately think they’re connected lore wise.

However, Crazy Form has a lot, and I mean a lot. Of Alice in Wonderland references.

We have Hongjoong doing the Cheshire cat smile.

We got the rabbits everywhere and the little ear motions in the choreography. Personally I think the name “Crazy Form” alone is already pretty in line with the whole Alice in Wonderland “We’re all mad here,” thing. And of course we have whatever these godawful furry things are.

Even Seonghwa’s smile in the MV is rather Mad Hatter-ish

(I also find it interesting that his left eye is covered but that’s a point for a dif theory.)

So. From all that it’s clear they’re trying to make a connection to Alice in Wonderland. But why? What does Alice in Wonderland have to do with their story so much that they’re putting references in everywhere.

At first I assumed it had to do with their alternate universe thing. Is entering the doors to Strictland in the Wonderland MV them ‘going down the rabbit hole’? Is Mito their white rabbit? (Even though it’s black-) Is it just another reference to them being somewhere strange they don’t belong?

As I was thinking of all the things I could remember about Alice in Wonderland, suddenly it hit me. The ending. Alice in Wonderland ends with Alice waking up and realizing it had all been a dream.

(When I realized it I almost lost it)

There have already been a number of people theorizing that the Crazy Form MV is at least partially in a dream due to Hongjoong shooting real bullets out of his finger guns, San flying, etc... Oh yea and the crecent moon at the beginning that seems to instantly change to a full one.

Which just adds it to this list of dream related MV’s like Illusion, Wave, Inception, and Eternal Sunshine. But it really makes me wonder, was the Wonderland MV a dream too? We don’t have diaries for the Treasure series, so pretty much anything goes at this point.

It would make sense if all the weird maze stuff was part of a dream, but feel like the maze is something different entirely… AhhhHHhgh this is all so big brain that I don’t think I’ve even scratched the surface of what’s actually going on.

It does makes me wonder though…just how deep does this rabbit hole (dream) go? How long have they been asleep? And when they wake up, where, when, and who will they be?

[hwaightme]

JOJO NOT YOU SAYING THAT PLEASE I-

I AM YELLING INTO OBLIVION you actually just gave me all the energy in the universe and elevated me above all possible lines of will ;~; <3 thank you forever

Also OMG hoW ARE YOU!?!!?!? I HOPE YOU ARE WELL AND TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF OR I WILL YEET MYSELF ON A MOTORBIKE TO YOU WITH FOOD WATER AND HUGS

Aaaaah I am so happy you enjoyed the dystopia paired with hope~~~ I personally am fond of balance in stories, where there is juxtaposition or comparison, so I tried to incorporate that and am really glad that it delivered <3 also ahah that makes two of us~ really before the biker!hwa rot i knew .... close to zero and now I know... 0.00001% more perhaps~~ But really I am so happy that it felt organic <3

AAAAAAAA PLEASE TOO HIGH A PRAISE I AM MELTING ;~; <3 Really I am forever in disbelief though and am so grateful that you are able to SEE the fic!!! Because really I think for me personally I like to write through seeing and like to imagine mv-style or movie-style scenes in my head, so to have you say that it carries across has me over the MOON!

ejbdfgsdfgbssfdkjgshfdgl I MELT YET AGAIN YES ;~; really Seonghwa gives the most comforting soft energy despite any bad boy personas so it is always very tempting to give any character a soft side in some kind of way, or at least a duality, and here we have exactly as you say *will break people for you*

"In every lifetime I am yours" is a line that made me go run a lap AAAAH <3 so eheheh very happy that I am not alone on this SPRINT

(chased by the Guardians ayy~ <3)

Truly thank you for blessing me with your existence JoJo, I am always always beyond grateful for you, for your kindness, for your love and support. Also this is completely random and a derail maybe but when you checked in on me I literally teared up ;~; and I will never ever forget it. You mean so much to me, and I am sending you the biggest hugs ever. Thank you for everything <3 Much love, all the kisses <3

This world

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR BIKER!HWA'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

🏍️ pairing: biker!seonghwa x f!reader 🏍️ genre: romance, fluff, action, smut, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, smidgen of angst, sprinkles of comedy 🏍️ summary: caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive? 🏍️ wordcount: 16.2k 🏍️ warnings/tags: biker!hwa, quick edit, likely inaccuracies in mechanics and motorcycles, mechanic!yunho, businessman!jongho, biker!yeosang, mechanic!reader, tattooed!reader, gang life/activity, misuse of lore terminology, language, food, wounds/injuries, pain, bike chases and dangerous tricks, talk of death/rebirth, identity searching, imagery and setting inspired by outlaw trailers, lmk if anything else 🏍️ a/n: i gave myself a one day break, listened to a dream i had... and this happened. totally was not spooked today and rushed to edit in a feverish state... always, any notes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, much love~

🏍️ a/n pt2: biker!hwa supremacy also spreads to the exchange event hosted by @kflixnet for @qqtxt (and thank you @alohajun for organising!) - hope you enjoy!!

🏍️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @yunbug

🏍️ cannot be tagged: @mystar1024

🏍️ nsfw tags: condom used, slow, a dom!leaning reader with a soft!hwa, handjob, slight edging, praise, save a bike - ride a biker, focus on intimacy and emotional experience, some mutual masturbation, f!masturbation, literally just two people in love with each other, cuddling and implied aftercare

The artificial suns of Night City shone bright in a palette of neon hues, so vivid and vibrant that one could almost forget that there had ever been a real star in the first place. Kids wished on blinking lightbulbs and travellers followed endless expanses of darkness, more accustomed to uncertainty than the belief that there was a veritable ally in the form of a celestial sign or a constellation. Everyone wore the same perfume: an acrid concoction of smog, grease and disgust that lingered whenever a visitor from another district came by, blending to form a hatred for all things that existed outside of the palace of neon. This was the palace that you had willingly made your home, and found that if you were to shut your eyes and then dare to peek through your lashes at the kaleidoscopic landscape, it took on the shape of an eloquent illusion of divinity. A rudimentary vision, a utopia carved out in impermanence, commanded by wishful thinking and a desire for anything except what you had known. This was your new home, and you were going to try as you might to cling to it, and find peace amidst the suffocating starless expanse.

You had arrived without a particular plan in mind, with only a rucksack and the tattoos decorating your skin to keep you company on your journey. The only persistent parasite that gnawed at your flesh and jolted you awake like a scalding whip when the roads seemed to be endless, was a burning desire to erase anything, everything that served as a reminder. While you were a believer in growing from the past, and reflecting on it, treating each memory and learned skill as a stepping stone towards a better future, the weight of each step was overwhelming, the gaps between them unbearable, and soon enough, you found yourself to be stretched too thin over your own existence, to the point where you had gained an alarming transparency, one tiny step away from disappearing into the lack of self that you had wholly succumbed to until your sudden evaporation and accidental escape to Night City. 

At the same time, you were not entirely ungrateful for the ‘you’ you had become. The miscellaneous arsenal of know-how and street smarts landed you a job, had you settled into a group of people who did not seem too bad and most importantly did not ask too many questions, gave you a roof over your head and had you working long hours in the garage from the get-go. That, from your experience, was the best way to forget and to start anew. So long as you did not speak to your clients more than necessary, instead focusing on their priceless metal steeds that you had the pleasure of tinkering with for hours on end. In this way, you got to see your clients at their most vulnerable, scrutinising you but so helpless that it nearly made you laugh, comparing the scene to a child watching their mother patch up a toy that they had torn after playing a little too roughly.

This approach turned out to be the one that won the big bucks in the city. Less talk, more trust. And resulted in the previously sceptical owners of the mechanic shop you had strolled into on your first day in town, passively protecting the shell of the self that you carried, uncaring for what fate had in store, to finally begin to warm up to you and treat you less like a pest, and more like a colleague. Only took them a couple of months. Though it would be foolish to hope for anything else, so you had simply settled into the rhythm of waking up, heading downstairs from the crammed studio that they had offered you - a stuffy dark corner, definitely the humblest abode but more than enough to crash in and more than generous for a person who had been a total stranger, and going to a different open cave in the garage and workshop, this time one dedicated to all things motorcycle. Since Outlaw Customs, a name which you had found incredibly comedic and ironic considering a high percentage of the clientele fit the shop description, was primarily for automobiles, there was not much dedicated to the untameable beauties that you loved so much. The head of the shop, a young man by the name of Jeong Yunho who you swore spent more time under cars than under those neon lights outside, did motorcycle repairs mainly out of necessity, following the recipes for replacement, so to speak. The locals knew that to see his craftsmanship, mastery and artistry at work, they needed to let him get his hands on a car. Of course, it did not mean that he could not fix bikes, far from that, in fact, over the years and especially after another mechanic shop was busted by the forces and forced to close for something or other - no one could ever guess what new crime was added to the list on any given day, Yunho was proud to say that he did not need to consult his hefty stack of manuals for when the most regular clients came by. But it did still mean that when he found out that he could pass off the task to a new hire, he did it in a split second, without sparing it a single thought.

As such, it was you, your beloved corner in the workshop, and a tranquillity under those buzzing fluorescent bulbs lined up on the ceiling. Not talking much, mainly business, occasionally sharing a laugh with your coworkers. They were easy to like, that much you had gathered over the months of being paid in shelter, food, water, and whatever else you needed so long as you kept on working to keep the brutes of Night City happy and the engines roaring. While the other guy in charge, Choi Jongho, an initially unreadable, unpredictable man who appeared in the store at random and mainly handled the ‘financials’, whatever it meant and you sure as all things bad were not about to get your nose in that side of the business, was somewhat less cordial with you, your nonchalance when it came to social interaction had put him at ease, along with, how he had it, your hands that told your story. Interesting what he could spot under the machine grease and fading ink.

It was another timeless day where Jongho was out for what he called ‘negotiations’ - again you did not need to know what it meant so long as the parts kept coming, Yunho was messing about with an old mustang that the customer said could be changed according to the mechanic’s own tastes, and you were idle, having just completed a re-flash of an engine control unit for a rider who apparently had nothing to lose and let you fully reconfigure his precious in the hopes of improving rideability. Same old for you, but nevertheless exciting when a new person gets so vulnerable so as to give their bike up with only faith in their hands, and in yours.

Wheeling the bike away from the main platform, you parked it right at the empty section by the brick wall lining the inner part of the garage, the aftermath of a miniature spring clean you had carried out to prep the workspace for a higher volume of bikes coming through. After patting the seat, as if lulling the machine into a slumber, you covered it with a tarp to protect it from any other dust or sparks - and subconsciously, from curious eyes if there were any that would peek into the shop. You stood up straight, taking the towel from your shoulder and attempting to wipe off the remains of your work, though much like your boss, who was now humming some random tune that he probably heard at one of the underground clubs, took pride in each stain, each streak of dirt. It was a reminder that you were here, you were present and alive, and that you were doing what others could never do exactly like you could. If anything, it was a breath of fresh air, the only one that could be ever taken in any Sector, in any City that existed in this nation, and you were almost convinced that this spread to the whole world.

Finding the stool on wheels that apparently used to belong to a nearby barbershop until that closed down, you sat down and sighed, rocking side to side by repeatedly pushing yourself with your feet before getting tired of the motion and rolling across to a workbench that you and Yunho had managed to craft out of a multi-shelved storage unit abandoned on the street, clearly another Sector’s kind donation to the local community, and you were not too proud nor picky. Picking up a brake pedal - a part off a ruined Kawasaki Ninja 2H/R that the universe threw into your arms after the wreck and helped you salvage, somewhat out of respect for the beast that it had been in its heyday, somewhat because you wondered if you could make it work on a horrific Frankenstein’s monster hybrid someday, or another bike of the same make, you twisted it, metal glinting white. The weight of memories, the feeling of it pressing against the foot despite the thick layers of rubber on the boot. Everything about that bike was as hypnotising as a dancing open flame, stunning, an engineering masterpiece, and one that you were praying to revisit, re-experience even if it was the last thing you were to ever do. Perhaps in a distant dream. Replacing the component in a top drawer of the bench, you got to work on signing off on the work completed, not that anyone even had a legal signature anymore, it was more of a quick doodle to hint at the work completed, just in case if the rider were to find themselves too far away, and had no method of fixing faults and could not recall the mods made. As if that would ever happen; you exhaled sharply, finishing the swift sketch and folding the paper in half, then into quarters and dropping the pen to let it hit the back wall. It was suspiciously peaceful at the OC, you concluded, unsettling. Only Yunho going about his business, the artificial cylindrical suns, and the neon climbing from the outside and coating the front entrance to the garage in shades of blue, purple and magenta. 

You waited in suspense, having caught the echoes of an engine in the far distance - still a few too many blocks away from you to determine what the source of it was exactly, but nevertheless, your instincts and the obvious approach of the sound was telling you that you were soon going to find out. Shutting your eyes, you made out an odd stuttering, reminiscent of a coughing fit in a human, as if the air system was out of tune, totally whack on the poor vehicle. The heart ached. Who could possibly mistreat a bike in such a way? Clutching onto the fabric of your black cargo trousers that you had decided would be something of a uniform for you, you listened on, confused. The rumble was familiar, albeit torn up and in need of a fix. Nonetheless, this was a powerful steed, a respectable monster that you could not wait to dissect and reassemble. Hands beginning to burn with excitement, heart starting to race, you stared off into the wall, waiting for the customer to arrive and made your guesses as to what the motorcycle could be like any mechanic in need of a fun pastime would. If you guessed correctly, you were in for an exhilarating time. 

Soon enough, you heard the bike grind to a halt outside of the shop, and the thump of feet hitting the concrete. Not yet looking up, you waited for the figure to approach and cross the line that marked the end of the driveway and the beginning of the garage. Hearing Yunho make a move to roll out from under the car, evidently after having seen the boots form below and recognising them, you began your own sign of common courtesy and moved to turn and stand from the stool.

“Good time of day, welcome to Outlaw Customs how may I-”

“Rear wheel is busted and the mudguard’s wrecked on the right edge, and the spark plugs need replacing - totally fouling. Can you do that in two hours? I’m on a tight schedule.

You froze, the politeness caught in your throat and fizzling out to be replaced with an astonishment at the crudeness. Raising your head to let yourself inspect the man before you fully, you found that he looked every bit like the arrogance that had oozed from the first words he spoke to you. The flashy black and orange outfit, the glimmering belt buckle, the damn chains… the usual lowlife from a gang who had nothing better to do than to be the pretty boy. Slowly, your hope for the particular bike you had placed mental bets on dissipated, to be replaced by a wish that this hoodlum had a standard no-name, beat up and totally not worth the money ride that you could half-ass and let him disappear.

With a sigh, you heaved yourself forward, approaching the biker with a cold resolve and purposefully taking your time with every movement, seeing as the less you had to speak, the higher were the chances that you were not going to cuss this man out and focus on the work you had set out for you. Knowing the bikers from these parts, either they were too knowledgeable and could diagnose correctly enough, or they were so utterly wrong that you wanted to bash their head in. Time would tell which one of the two this guy was. Before you could get a word in, much to your fortune, Yunho was by your side and wiping his hands to give the black-haired man a firm handshake. You noted that the visitor was shorter than your boss, giving you a slight inner satisfaction for an unknown reason, but you bit any remarks back and remained stone faced, seeing as you were not sure just how hostile this man was going to be towards you.

“Seonghwa, long time no see!” your boss greeted the man who now had a name, very animated, amiable. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in a silent question.

“I see you have a new hire. Business doing well?” being addressed in third person was unsettling, but it was better than attempting to hold eye contact with the biker who gave you the urge to forget professionalism and throw a punch at lightning speed. It was hilarious how quickly your instincts returned to you in such circumstances.

“Guess you could say that, thanks to her, mainly.” with a playful smugness Yunho responded, placing a hand on your shoulder. If you did not know better, you would think that he was showing off, but his glance at you, a quick check, and his gestures made you think of your brother. Bittersweet, but still a fond series of chapters.

“Oh?” it was impossible to tell whether Seonghwa was mocking you or just taking the piss of the tenseness that he brought with him, but the bugger dared to pretend to be pleased with your presence, nearly making you scowl. But you were too good at treating people with an unnerving neutrality, so an unperturbed mechanic ready to inspect the ride you remained, much to the biker’s dissatisfaction.

You could tell that he put up a front of sorts, an attention-seeking, egoistic and merciless front, the presentation of the mentality of a murderer on the road, the man who would not hesitate to lead you into a ruin just for laughs. It was always fun to dismantle the nerve cells of such bastards; all you needed was his bike. His eyes found yours quickly enough, confident, unwavering, and your lips curled into a close-mouthed smile as if you were not just pondering the destruction of his ego. A flash of what could only be described as curiosity passed over his irises, and you swore you saw his pupils adjust as if they were a camera lens ready to capture you. His gaze travelled down your body and back up again, studying you, taking you in, settling on the tattoos that adorned your forearms and were revealed by you having pushed up the sleeves of the black turtleneck you were wearing. What was he searching for, you asked yourself before you noticed the solitary, dangling earring on his left ear discovering a single silver feather on its end. Of course he had to be a Blue Bird. Of course he had to be a so-called peace keeper of the city. No wonder he was so full of himself, at least upon first meeting. Now you really wanted to see his bike.

“Motor master, I tell you. Can sort out your beauty in no time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Seonghwa squinted, earning an eye roll from your boss.

“Got you, yeah. Anyways, meet Y/N,” the man turned to you once again, seeing how your expression remained unchanged, “she’ll be finding common ground with your bike from now on. “Noticing how neither of you spoke nor made a move to greet, Yunho raised his hands and continued while ambling back to the car, “Now, now, don’t talk over one another, you will have plenty of time to chat.”

“So,” you began, not wishing to remain unproductive any longer and wanting to rid yourself of this client as soon as possible, “Seongh-”

“Mars.”

“Mars?”

“You address me as Mars.” he commanded, crossing his arms, the corner of his lip curling up as you searched for the right response, but quickly falling as you suppressed the desire to sneer and merely adjusted yourself to the pesky, petty demands. You had met worse, much worse than the urban chic version of hierarchy and names. Mars was something you could deal with easily enough, and gave you a lot more insight than Seonghwa could imagine.

“Mars, care to show me your bike?”

“Mm.  Follow me, Y/N.” he emphasised your name, as if the fact that you did not have a title nor a nickname gave him some odd power trip - to be frank, it would not be surprising if this actually was the case.

As you followed him out to the front, you noticed his gait was ever so slightly out of balance, a miniscule limp, likely following an injury. Again, something so common with your customers, but made you soften up the tiniest bit - in some senses Seonghwa reminded you of a wild animal that was pretending to be strong. Frustrating, yes, but he was out there trying his best to survive in the way that he knew and could. Much like everybody else, including yourself. You kept your gaze trained on the man’s back as you walked on until you very quickly found yourself right in front of the beast whose roar you had heard from all that distance away. You broke into a full grin, making Seonghwa’s brows knit together as he became perplexed. As it turned out, your prediction was more than right, and before you was a gorgeous, sleek, though having seen some battles, Suzuki Hayabusa. Customised, adored and kept pristine from what you could see. The damage that the motorised excellence had sustained looked to be new, perhaps even acquired a mere couple of hours ago, but other than that the steed was the closest you had seen to true love in Night City. It was clear that despite Seonghwa offering not the best impression, the bike told a different story, and as you crouched down to briefly inspect it at proximity, you nearly gasped. Each valve, each tiny detail was treated with kindness and affection, as if this man spent every spare moment only caring for it. The paint did made you want to giggle, however. Aside from the signature hanja for peregrine falcon, purposefully highlighted with neat strokes of paint to highlight the engineering finesse and power contained in the supreme machine, the motorcycle was completed in a dual tone, with the majority of the body done in a midnight black, and the detailing and smaller body components being done in a copper orange - stunning complement to the outfit of the rider, a full unit of owner and two-wheeler. One body, one mind. If you could start your first impression here, your thoughts of Seonghwa would be a lot more friendly, you determined. But that was the beauty of being a mechanic, you got to know people a lot closer, in secret, unknown to them. This man had a soul on fire. A soul he was attempting to hide, a soul that manifested itself in one of the fastest production motorcycles. And a soul that most certainly knew what was wrong with its metal body - the diagnoses were pleasantly accurate.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Hm, let’s get this beauty in the garage, yeah?�� 

He obliged, but still did not let you touch the vehicle as he pushed it along until you told him where to leave it. Occupying an old armchair right by the platform where you fixed the bike in place, Seonghwa watched your every move, scrutinised you as you started your work on the Busa, impatient. It was customary for the bikers that came to OC to remain here like a spouse waiting for their loved one to come out of surgery, but his predator-like focus was beginning to get unsettling and ruined your concentration. You could not speak to the bike in front of you, you could not gain its trust while its owner was staring you down like you were about to tear everything apart and turn the motorcycle into scraps. Letting a tool fall onto the mat that you had rolled down on the floor, you raised your head an deadpanned to the man, catching him off-guard:

“It’ll be three hours since I expect you want the guard done up all pretty. Get me jjajangmyeon from the place down the street and I might speed it up to your optimistic two.”

Yunho’s guffaw resonated across the shop as he heard your statement and imagined the shocked look on Seonghwa’s face upon receiving the daring request. Indeed, the man was more than taken aback, curious as to how important you deemed yourself to talk to him in such style. But at the same time, it was beyond amusing. The cheek, the attitude behind a cold and monotone sentence was alluring. There was something more to you than what Yunho had proposed, and that was reassuring. Perhaps you did have the right energy to find common ground with his priceless Suzuki. Still, the first word to escape him as he recoiled from the jab was an airy question of:

“What?” quickly countered with:

“They do late night deals. Half price. If you get there within the next half hour that is. Get Yunho and yourself a bowl while you’re at it and I’ll get the job done to fit your busy schedule and be enviable.”

“Boss, are you hungry?” you called out to Yunho, who was still giggling from under the vehicle, making it appear as if the car itself was caught in a comedy.

“Aye.”

“Done then, Mars, would you be a dear and do an orbit there and back?” you could not stop yourself from bringing his chosen, given or acquired through a brutal climb name into the mix. The opportunity was just too much of a low hanging fruit to not take it.

You were playing with fire, that much was certain. You could tell that he was contemplating putting you on a hitlist; not something that you were not used to, seeing as you were still in a client-facing role even if a lot of your time was spent with silent steely beauties. But you took a risk with Seonghwa, you ceased to be careful, spurred on by the euphoric prospect of treating the customised, souped up and customised Hayabusa, and took a shot in the dark with your forwardness. As the blood that was pumping in your ears got louder with every passing moment, and you began to doubt whether this was the right call to make to get some along time with the steed, Seonghwa stirred after his ponderings. Rising from the armchair, the chains that adorned his neck glinting under the lights, he stretched more for show than for comfort and exhaled through his nose, suppressing a chuckle.

“Ask for jjamppong on top of that and I will snap your arms in half.”

“You are too kind.”  catching him mid turn, you responded, making him look back, and give you a playful, mischievous glance over his shoulder, almost boyish, as if the two of you were good friends that were used to the banter.

Releasing a breath that you did not realise you had been holding after the man disappeared from view, you returned to the Suzuki that was gracing your vision. Yunho’s laughter had subsided, and once again the buzz of the lights was the only thing that was between you and total silence. Diving into your work, you read the story etched into the curves, the miniscule dents, the scratches that were invisible to the naked eye but still there, hinting at just how much the bike and, evidently, the rider went through. The fixes were going to be complicated, but nothing that you could not do with what you had in the shop. You rested a hand on the engine, thinking of your next move, and of the dark glimmering orbs of the biker whose soul was still right here with you, watching, inspecting, but attempting, bit by bit, to trust that you would do the mechanical masterpiece justice. Of course you would, you were getting a late dinner for it after all. Besides, it was easy to love such a stunning bike, especially when you could see that it was truly loved by its owner. A soft smile on your face, you leaned forward and got back to dismantling a broken detail from the main body, already excited for the inner workings you would see behind it; the closest thing to true light that one could get in the sadistic, somnolent city of neon and night.

After the first appointment came another, and another, and more after that. The Busa almost became your personal project as what had previously been menial tasks carried out by an amateur mechanic and devilish rider, now fell to you. You knew this motorcycle better than you knew all of your tattoos, that much you were sure of. From the piping to the seating to the turbocharger you had installed, it was clear enough that Seonghwa was more than willing to let you tinker with the bike as much as he wanted you too, which with every unscheduled drop in became longer and longer. At times, Yunho would be there to participate in some idle chatter, other times, it was merely you and him on your own, either in a perfect stillness, with only the bike making the music and talking for you both, or with the occasional question thrown in either direction. 

You had found out bit by bit that Seonghwa was, as you had assumed, a member of the Blue Birds - the local crew of vigilantes, from what your boss and your ghost of a boss had told you. Brutal and unforgiving, they had taken it upon themselves to maintain something of an order in the district, though you never asked for the details on how exactly they did it. You had learned over your lifetime to ask less, unless it was about mechanics; that was always a safe bet, and a point that you would always return to if you felt the conversation going into a direction that you did not wish to explore. All other inquiries normally answered themselves from what you noticed - for instance, the limp was now gone, to be replaced by rather grim looking knuckles. But again, no comment from you. It was above your pay grade. Seonghwa, at some point, had also caught onto your avoidance and tendency to cling onto bikes for conversation, but had taken it upon himself to probe further and further through what you considered to be a strong enough barrier, to figure out why exactly was one of your tattoos on the right forearm a mark that he had avoided at all costs when he was still a youngster back in the place he used to go home, many kilometres away, now reachable through highways to hell. He could not ask directly, not when you could clog up his air filters or ruin the braking system right then and there, but curiosity was getting the better of him as the weeks turned into months, and you were doing your regular check up on the Busa.

“What’s your favourite bike, Y/N?”

“Why the sudden question?”

“Why answer a question with a question?”

“Hm… yours is pretty good.” you tried to brush his inquiry away, even though your mind instantly went to the answer, and remained stuck. You could hear the engine resonate in your chest, and could feel the handles in your palms, as you gripped onto them, tighter, tighter and turned. The feeling of a machine coming to life right beneath you, ready to race into the darkness and obey your every instruction. Turn after turn after turn. Somewhere along that race, you lost your soul, and longed for it. Blinking slowly, you hoped that Seonghwa would leave the conversation where it was, but knew that he was going to do everything except that.

“No but really. Every mechanic, every biker has their favourites. Hell, even Yunho has one and he doesn’t really work on them anymore.” leaning forward to rest his head in the palm of his hand as his elbow positioned itself on his right thigh, he focused on your response, down to the body language and each one of your cells could feel it.

“Hard to pick.” Again, vague, but you wanted to get away, hide yourself. The sensation of the brakes, how the loyal companion to your every conquest could glide across the streets and halt just when you wanted it to, make impossible turns and let you caress the ground through thick gloves that have seen the wildest tricks and fastest getaways… it was all far too vivid. Too much for you to bring up while you were trying to work. Swallowing your spit, you shook your head slightly as Seonghwa commented that you were not responding to him.

“What do you want me to say?”

“What you are thinking about.”

“And what am I thinking about?” abandoning the Busa, you gave the body a wipe with towel and dropped it to the floor, raising yourself up you fell onto the spinny stool, and eyed Seonghwa right back, despising the smirk that was threatening to break out on his lips that were far to soft and lush for a damn outlaw.

“The bike. Your bike. You used to ride, didn’t you?”

“...Hm.”

“I can feel it. No need to pretend.” he had already formed his suspicions. In fact, he had put two and two together a long enough time ago. All he needed was a confirmation, a mention of that same bike that he had heard of, a name to a face that had haunted him for as long as he was leading the Blue Birds.

“Yeah. I did. Not anymore though.” your voice grew colder, dismissive as you turned to look out at the neon lights. A flicker caught your attention - the sign for the Japanese restaurant that opened and closed only when the owner wanted to was caught in a starlike sparkling, the fluctuating light making it seem as though the luminescence was alive. Alive. Curious choice of words.

“What was it?”

“It?”

“Let’s start with the bike.”

“Is this an interrogation?”

“Just curious, no biggie.”

Afraid of what you could say if you were to dive into elaborating your memories and sentimentality, you stood up and walked to the work bench, retrieving the component that you had brought with you to the city, and kept it with you at all times. Giving it one last look, you strode over to an expectant and enthusiastic Seonghwa, motioning for him to stretch out his hands. As you watched him inspect the item, turning it and checking each nook and cranny, your heart felt heavy. Was it really that long since the brake pedal was attached to the swift stunner? A glorious ink black, with piping of the skeleton completed in a vibrant poisonous green. A nightmare. Your love, your priceless dream.

“A Kawasaki?” he whispered half to himself. So it was how he had indeed attempted to predict.

“Kawasaki Ninja H2R.”

“Two hundred and twenty-eight kilowatts without ram-air?”

“I played around with that.”

“Sure you did. Wow. Really that’s pretty.”

“Mhm.” you took the brake pedal from Seonghwa’s hands, returning it back to the drawer. 

Suddenly, it all felt too real. The last moments raw, the feeling that the motorcycle was still with you, still outside, parked and patiently waiting for you, was too clear in your head that you had attempted to train to believe that that stage in your life was over. Done. Finished. You had crossed the metaphorical finish line and that was all there was to it. But Seonghwa was not letting up, instead choosing to dig into the wound and watch as blood began to trickle.

“Now that explains it.”

“What?” you knew you were going to regret asking, but did so still.

“The tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” your eyes narrowed as you propped yourself against the bench and crossed your arms.

“The one on your arm. The right one.” he pointed as if he just won a game of spot the difference, leaving you irritated.

“What of it? I have many.”

“Not one that belongs to the Black Pirates. I am no fool, Y/N. I’ve seen the mark before and truthfully, I am surprised you are still alive.”

“I am too.” you huffed, finding your boots to be awfully interesting.

“Sacrificed the bike?”

You did not answer. You did not want to answer because it was clear that Seonghwa could answer the question for you. And for that, you loathed him in that given moment, despite overall finding his company to be almost comforting in recent weeks. In reality, the Kawasaki saved you from utter demise. Sliding on its side across the highway at record speed, sparks flying in the air and the screeching penetrating through your helmet to embed itself into your bones, the bike made it seem as though you were truly done for when, as luck would have it, you had gotten away with only a few scratches and a lot of foliage clinging to the torn up leather you had worn. As you had made your leap off the out of control beauty, the hero fighting its last battle it collided with cement to split and crumble into smithereens, the fuel tank pierced and beginning to seep out the fluid. A couple of gunshots later, and the bike was caught aflame, and all you could see from the group below where you had fallen, was the occasional licks, smoke and more sparks, your soul departing the metal body. The brake pedal, by some odd circumstance, had flown off and landed in your direction, nearly crashing into your visor. You had cradled it in your hands, sliding down on your back further and further to the moist earth beneath the highway until you were totally concealed from all viewpoints, hidden by pillars and rusted armature. When you were sure that those who you had called family, called friends, called comrades sped away, confident that you were there splattered on the cement and roasting, thanks to the bag that had been left on the seats serving practically as a dummy, you had begun to weep, never knowing for what, but certain that you were not yourself anymore. You had died.

Unbeknownst to you, as your vision blurred and mist settled to accompany the rising melancholia, Seonghwa had risen from the armchair and cautiously stepped closer and closer to you, until he was barely an arm’s reach away. Gaze drifting, you only took notice of the change when the knuckles came into view. Those bruised, bloodied knuckles, obviously treated by a person who knew nothing about caring for themselves. Silly man. A silly, silly man who wanted to put up a front; a front that might just have been yours, and your family’s ruin.

“Hey, are you-”

“No.” you retorted before he could accentuate what you deemed to be your weakness. Pushing yourself off the bench you were about to make a beeline for somewhere, anywhere, make up and excuse, but felt a gentle hand wrap around your wrist. Shocked, you stilled yourself and attempted to tug, only feeling the grip getting stronger until Seonghwa pulled you towards him, so that you would be face to face.

“I-... I’m sorry. I know how much this hurts and-”

“Do you?” cold, you hissed.

“...I can see it. I am sorry for your loss. And I am sorry for making you relive it.”

A smile, ones that graced those who had little to lose and little to wish for except perhaps a restart as another person, in another body, in another time and life, melted over you as you tested the strength of Seonghwa’s hold another time. Not budging. You did not dare to check his expression, for you knew that it would make you crack. 

“Do you need any-”

“One more word and I will snap your arms in half.” recalling your first meeting, you muttered the empty threat.

“You are too kind.” he echoed, deliberating whether to give himself up to the urge and pull you closer. 

So it was you who he had heard about after all. The demon on the roads, Icarus who had gotten too close to the sun of power, and was violently shoved from the pedestal of grace and familial leadership into the torment, into the abyss, stripped of all you knew and had. He had learned about you through fable-like gossip that his childhood friend, who caught up with the wrong crowd and became a member of the Black Pirates had shared over a couple of drinks when Seonghwa had visited. Same night he had shared that he wanted to leave, but as it had turned out, he was someone not quite lucky to make an escape and someone who Seonghwa was meant to forget. But besides the passing of another, someone who he could not save even though he tried, never did he think that the beast on the Kawasaki would be you. The you that he had come to know. The sensitive, albeit snarky and strong-headed you. The you who was a gifted mechanic, a woman who breathed the craft, the art, the science, the life that was that of a biker. Never before did he see anyone treat the Busa with such respect, nor make such accurate guesses about the fights and chases that it had participated in. Looking back, it should have been obvious that you had a history. You knew more than you ever let on. Perhaps you knew Seonghwa like he knew the streets of Night City, and now, your true past.

“The… yeah the Hayabusa’s done. By the way.” you tried to veer the conversation away, and fortunately this time, Seonghwa agreed. 

“Thank you.”

“Standard rate.”

“Yep.”

“Everything is sort-”

“May I-”

You shot him an aggressive, piercing gaze, threatened by the change in tone. Far from his usual upbeat lilt, it was deeper, slower, sticky and sweet like molasses and you did not want to get pulled in. You clambered for air, for any relief away from his man, the man who had so openly shared his soul with you. He stammered and cleared his throat, finally letting go of your wrist. The sharp change in temperature was nearly unwelcome as the ghost of his soft fingers remained, caressing your flesh.

“Would you want to join a patrol now?” the inquiry, hanging in the air, dangling like a treat as the adrenaline rushed across your body. You had to feel guilty, surely, after having mourned the loss of your beloved Kawasaki and just revisited its final minutes, you had no right to be looking forward to another rush. You did not need it. You should not need it nor want it. And yet, you found yourself nodding almost immediately, much to Seonghwa’s delight. A reassuring warm hand on your upper arm, a lean forward letting Seonghwa catch your glossy eyes, him asking when you can close up shop and you mumbling that you were done for the day, or night. It was alway nighttime. The soothing blanket of navy blue, sleepy over the streets that you were about to explore under Seonghwa’s guidance. 

As the dark haired man settle on the bike and appeared to adjust his wristwatch, holding his helmet while you found a spare displayed on one of the shelves - showed marks of wear and tear but good enough for a couple rides more, he felt his heartbeat turn erratic, and what was normally a bearable thrum turn into an erratic, unbelievable pace that only amplified in his skull and quickened once your arms were wrapped around his torso, holding onto him, your body pressed against his. If there was ever a hazard on the road for him, it was this. Your intoxicating closeness that made him want to ride forever more, never stopping if that meant that you could stay exactly where you were. How you were. It was surreal that the rider, the legend that he had grown to respect from the tales, was the woman that he had now grown to love.

As he sped down the streets, the neon had shone down on you in different colours, a bolder, more optimistic palette that made you beam right back. You clutched onto Seonghwa’s leather jacket, seeking more support as the exhilaration began to overwhelm you. It had been far too long since the last time you felt the wind hit you in this way, you felt the engine rushing you on between the trees of the concrete jungle, the windows and doors, the stray passers-by zooming right past you as the bike accelerated. It was not the same, of course, nothing could ever be, but the feeling, that distant feeling and warm memory was enough to remind you that you indeed were alive and you had the future to look to. A future that Seonghwa wanted to help you find. Hugging him tighter, you let yourself be carried away from the shop you closed up, away from the pleasant routine you had aimed to settle into all the way towards a moment of freedom and that familiar rush.

When you arrived at the destination, which turned out to be an abandoned parking lot under an equally barren road, illuminated only by a single streetlight with two bulbs, you noticed that there were a few people already gathered, including some familiar faces who were chatting away while wheeling their rides out of what you would describe as some concealed warehouse into better starting positions. Feeling a wave of shyness, you did not move as Seonghwa stopped the bike and stretched his legs out to balance it. Only after you sense more movement, and approaching footsteps did your arms snake away on their own accord and tug at your helmet. The man seemed to sense this since, as soon as his own helmet was off, he turned to you to whisper a quick “you okay?”. You feebly nodded, and found the ground with your military-style boots. 

Quickly enough, a man approached Seonghwa, and the two exchanged a handshake and a couple of words. You recognised him fast enough - while he had not come to the shop nearly enough to be considered a regular, and judging from how heavily modded his MV Agusta Rush was it was clear that he preferred to do most, if not all repairs himself, Yeosang was a memorable figure. His hair, approaching shoulder length, and the long black and red leather jacket with cutouts that flowed behind him as he hit top speed made him stand out to you, and his endearing disposition and innate warmth as he discussed all matters within your comfort made him something of a friend. He waved to you, excited that you had decided to join the patrol, agreeing with Seonghwa that it was an honour to see you on the urban tracks. You bit your lower lip, wondering just how far word about you had travelled after your supposed passing, and whether this word would travel right back down to the south again after your impulsive appearance right here, among the Blue Birds.

“So you riding with us? Right?” Yeosang finally addressed you, his voice jolting you out of your musings. 

“I suppose so,” after giving Seonghwa one final look and receiving a reassuring smile, you responded.

“Great, then, follow me.” As Yeosang spun on his heel and led you towards the warehouse, you let yourself wonder out loud.

“Were you all waiting for me or something?”

“Well, yes and no. We’ve heard stories, then Mars has really taken to you and well, that comes with a lot of getting to know you, and then Yunho shared a couple things-”

“What in the-”

“Don’t be too surprised. We keep our tabs on everyone. Just in case.” he chuckled and elaborated on the miniature dossier that had accumulated - he was not going to rat out the fact that it was mainly his leader not realising that he was discussing you at longer time periods than was customary for a standard biker and mechanic relationship.

“Guess I’m a bit rusty in that department.” you pondered the networks, the informers that had existed back in your town, and how sometimes you even had to ‘do some less than appealing kinds of convincing’ to get updates, but shook the image away as you entered the dimly lit warehouse.

“Let’s hope you aren’t when it comes to riding.” You stood back, letting Yeosang turn on another lamp, something probably found in a trash pile but still functional enough to be a source of illumination, only to reveal a breath-taking beauty. 

“Now, of course it isn’t the Kawasaki,” Yeosang paused, patting the seat of the black and red motorcycle that you could sense was studying you, checking if you were strong enough to handle it, “but it is still quite impressive. Aprilia RSV4-”

“1100 Factory. Grunty engine, sweet chassis. Good engineering.”

“You can say that again. Here, give it a try.”

You stepped towards the breathing machine. The beast in slumber, awaiting a boost, a nudge awake and it was ready to roar and leave all those in this lot behind. It was a captivating system of mechanisms, all working in unison to create what was going to be a revival for you. A revival on the road. As you sat down on the bike, feeling its energy ooze through you and appreciating its almost youthful vigour, your mind traversed its maze-like avenues back to the Kawasaki. This was far from your precious. Far from who you had been. Far from the soul that you had lost back then. Gorgeous, without a doubt, an astounding piece of work that the streets would be grateful for gracing them, but that was how you had to treat it. As much as a part of you desired a renaissance, that same thrill, it was obviously unachievable. Nothing was the same, nor could be, including you. The place where the tattoo of the Black Pirates still decorated your skin ached with dull throbs as you leaned forward and tested your movements, your fluidity with the motorcycle. This was going to do; this had to do for that one last thrill before you could say goodbye to the dream of re-experience - the final nail in the coffin of a phantom that had you delusionally hoping for that sense of belonging and sense of being undefeatable to return to you. The Aprilia was the Aprilia, and you were you. The need for speed, the desire to rule the roads and exist in discord and chaos had died with the Kawasaki Ninja H2R, and the you now was searching for peace. The peace that you could read in Seonghwa’s eyes. The peace that he was offering in the form of unconditional support, in the form of pieces of his own soul to ignite the one you were patiently cultivating in your hollow chest. To let the blaze warm you, nurture the affection you yearned for, and let you breathe again. You gripped the handles of the bike, and turned on the ignition, casting a permission-seeking side glance to Yeosang, who merely nodded. As it rolled out of position and you flipped the foot that anchored it in balance, and let yourself be regarded by Seonghwa and his fellow bikers, the revelation finally came, that this was the new life that you had hoped for. The life that you had wanted to experience, not a reworking, but a clean slate. A new home that you hoped to discover in Night City.

Once everyone was in position, and Yeosang gave you a helmet that was fitted with a communication system that let the Blue Birds converse while on patrol, you followed Seonghwa out, having been given a designated position and role in the formation. It felt like the old times, but in reverse. Instead of organising havoc, the group was organising peace. Instead of planning heists, the group was hoping to stop crime that happened under the noses of those who purposefully disregarded it, focusing on new age delinquency that manifested itself as banal expression and creativity. The city was different now, it had to be. Suddenly, you were astounded and amazed by it, by the intricacies of every corner, the affection with which the citizens of the sector had decorated their storefronts and windows, even though if a government-arranged bust was to be organised, and the forces, nicknamed the Guardians were to march down these streets, these homes would be the first to be annihilated. Risking their own lives these marvellous people decided to spread joy and share colour. There was hope in Night City, there was hope in this district where the desire to live and thrive could not be put out. 

Blue, purple, magenta, pink, orange, yellow, red, green, purest white and inkiest black, every shade and every saturation was jumping out at you even through the visor. You felt at ease, one with your surroundings as Seonghwa’s soothing voice issued the final command before the group were to split, leaving you, Seonghwa and Yeosang alone and zooming down the central street, empty from the lack of business after a particularly nasty raid. You noted remnants of shattered glass and a charcoal black storefront, one of the downsides of living in an area where law was more questionable than local dealings. But even then, you felt more alive than before. 

“How are you feeling, Red?” a nickname thought of on the spot for ease of callouts thanks to the accents on the Aprilia.

“Good, Mars.”

“Good?” Yeosang echoed, and you could swear you heard an amused giggle from his mic.

“Very good, Greece,” you would never not be amused with the choice of name for your friend, the word ‘sculpture’, to highlight his heavenly visuals, had apparently been deemed too long to work.

Seonghwa could hear the joy in your voice, stronger than he had ever experienced it before, even when you joked around with him or revealed to him a particularly high quality part that Jongho had produced by some unmentionable connections. Previously, there had been barriers that you had accumulated with each season of your new existence, hardened by your trials and tribulations as a person who technically was not supposed to exist. Less talk, more business. Less emotion, more control over your behaviour, your being in the effort of maintaining an image of strength, much like he had done when he had first met you.

When Seonghwa had first laid eyes on you, you seemed to be the closest thing there was to a human version of ice. You appeared to be dismissive and disinterested in him, in what he could bring, and that was vexing. He, as Mars of the Blue Bird gang, had gotten used to have the room freeze as he walked in, only to combust into hot flames an instant after, but definitely not come face to face with someone who was sombre, and with their lack of a reaction made Seonghwa feel as though, in reality, he was not that important. He had made a promise to himself after finding out about the Kawasaki rider of the Black Pirates, that if there was anyone he would listen to and learn from, it would be them. From the technique to the daredevil spirit, that was the kind of rider he had always wanted to be. At the same time, as days turned to weeks turned to months, and the image of you and the rider became one in his mind, Seonghwa came to understand that truly, the rider was an illusion. A fantasy that he had built in his mind that could not compare to the wise woman that had transformed his Hayabusa, and his own heart. He wanted to learn you, and learn anything else with you. And to hear the spark within you, to feel your passion for finding yourself begin to return to you was the final sign that he needed to fully comprehend what he had been searching for. For that smile to never leave your face, for him to bring you food just because, for you to be side by side in this race against harsh reality, fighting the odds and making it through to a land where there was true light, away from the land of neon farce.

As you sped down the neverending roads, checking each turn and alleyway for activity, an odd trepidation crept into your chest, and fluttered like a moth fighting for its spot on a bulb. The same feeling as when you had been out with your so-called crew, checking the outskirts of your hometown that fateful night. Your inner alarm rolled out of a restless sleep, and began to clang against your brain, once, twice more and more until it became unbearable and you cried out for the group to stop. The unexpected call startled the duo, and they barely had time to process the action as the three of you instinctively skid to a halt, leaving hot trailmarks on the road. A hum. An unsettling hum that came before a certain ruin spread across your surroundings, and you took off your helmet to tune into it in an attempt to decipher anything at all. Seonghwa and Yeosang followed suit, perplexed, contemplating you as you darted from one side to the other turning your head and getting a grasp of what could be the source of the thrum. A revving. A sickening revving in the far distance, picked up by you as you whispered to your team.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what?” Yeosang asked back, running a hand through his hair.

“The hum.”

“Hum?”

“Where are we right now?”

“Southernmost district, kind of outside of Night City, but still our area.” Seonghwa responded promptly, alerted by your concern.

“We need to leave.”

“But the patrol-” Yeosang tried to argue, but you cut him off.

“Now. We need to leave now.”

“Why?”

The engines became even louder, and if you were not going to move now, you would never move again. 

“Surveillance Point South, Guardians Helmets on, MOVE!” you commanded, disregarding any hint of formality as you shoved the helmet back onto your head and twisted the bike to go back. The men followed suit, and in good time, as in one of your mirrors, you saw the first flash of white appear from around the corner.

“GO!”

Bless technology, bless the engineers who crafted these magnificent motorcycles; you were praying and praising every person who had ever contributed to the creation of these beauties, these roaring urban animals as you accelerated to top speed in seconds and swerved down a random street, one that you had no clue where it led to. Calming yourself to the level where you were able to ask a question, you hurriedly shouted into the mic:

“Mars!”

“Turn right at the end, Greece flanks on the left.”

“Gotcha chief.”

“Update on tail?” You continued as the initial wave of automatic movements subsided, and in came the need for fast, adaptive strategy. You were not about to make the same mistakes again. This could not happen. You had to trust yourself, trust Seonghwa and Yeosang. They should not suffer the same way you had done. Ever.

“Five Guardians. Gear - standard. They were not expecting us.” Yeosang communicated back, pressing himself into the motorcycle as the three of you sped down the street only to burst into another and swerve to the appointed direction.

“Well that’s a plus,” you huffed and accelerated more after completing the dangerously sharp turn. The Guardians were quick to repeat the motion, and were aggressively catching up to your trio.

“There’s a highway under construction, we can lose them there.” Seonghwa offered, clearly disturbed by the closeness of the forces, practically breathing down his neck.

“How far?”

“How fast can you go?”

“Lead.” a quick ‘yes’ in agreement, and Seonghwa issued an order:

“Greece, split on the fork and find Crow. If you get a tail then spiral the shit out of them.”

“Aye.”

“Good luck.” With one last wish, serving as a hopefully temporary farewell, Yeosang rolled away his own response blending into static as the connection grew weaker, only to fully break:

“Good lu-”

And just like that, it was you, Seonghwa, and four remaining Guardians, who evidently had decided that Yeosang was not their main target, leaving only one to tail him. You cursed under your breath, and clearly the mic was a lot more sensitive than you had initially expected, because as soon as the utterance left your mouth Seonghwa’s voice reverberated against your eardrums.

“Just a bit more, okay? Trust me we’ll get there-”

A gunshot stops the man mid-sentence, and you blindly followed him as he countersteered to make another sharp turn into a much more narrow street, forcing the group of four to slow down considerably and giving you an extra few valuable seconds. 

“Are guns part of standard gear?” Shocked by the similarity between the gang you had been part of and your present followers, you managed to ask.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Well isn’t this a fun time.”

“Glad you are enjoying it. Turn in five then turn left.”

Before you knew it, you were entering the meandering manoeuvre from street to alley to a series of pedestrian passageways, fully expecting Seonghwa to still be by your side, but as you entered another road, zooming ahead, you took note that your partner was nowhere to be seen, along with another two Guardians. The ones behind you, thanks to the maze of stairs and tight spots down the path he had directed you through, the Guardians were trailing behind, the distance having grown to a more secure one, at least until you felt the bike, which you were not totally used to, hit a pothole on the road and start to wobble, forcing you to overreact - counterintuitive to any professional behaviour. Your yelps finally made Seonghwa return through the speakers asking as to what exactly happened. To the best of your ability you choked out the cause of your surprise, while loosening your grip and regaining at least some control by slowly rolling off the throttle.

“I leave you for one second and that happens?”

“Last time I was alone and being chased I-”

“Did not have me, to your left-” As you had balanced yourself out and returned to breaking any speed limit imaginable, you noted the familiar black and orange Hayabusa merge into the lane to your left, followed by one Guardian.

“Where is their friend?”

“Took an arrow to the knee,” out of the corner of your visor’s allowable view, you saw Seonghwa accelerate until he was a little in the front and he waved what could only be a particularly menacing pistol.

“That is one hell of a bow.” You pondered when and where  he could have produced a gun from, and finally realised why most of the time he kept his jacket zipped up unless he was off vigilante duty.

As you approached the winding highways-to-be, you swore you were barely breathing. With only three Guardians remaining on your tail it should be easier, an escape should feel closer, but you could not settle into any form of focus, instead only speeding towards an oblivion. Another one, your final one. The fear that you had been living with, the repetition that you had wrongfully longed for, was it about to happen? You fell quiet as you saw the road curve higher and higher to another level, and followed its flow. Seonghwa let you flow forwards, turning back to return the gunfire that the white-clad spawns of the so-called law restarted, missing one by a few centimetres, but in this way forcing them to enter the same state from which you recovered. Luckily, they did not have as reflexive of a control over the vehicle, and toppled to veer and hit one of the borders, denting it and giving up the chase. Two to go.

Entranced by the openness of the location, you raised your head to find a night sky, clearer than the one you were used to back in Night City. It was similar to the countryside around your hometown, how the stars came around to glint and help you recollect your thoughts by emphasising that everything on this earth, compared to the infinite expanse of the universe, was small enough to brush off. It had always made you feel briefly light, relieved, free. How you wished you could fly-

“Ready to fly?”

“Literally?” you cried out, returning back to the matter at hand.

“I sure hope you remember how to recover from a high jump on a bike because that is our only chance.”

“What the-”

“Three.”

“Two.

“One.”

“May the suspension system be ever in our favour,” you muttered, embracing the oncoming drop as you avoided the cones that marked the end of the construction zone and led into a drop onto the highway below.

Your mind cleared, and you focused on the head level balance point in front of you, which just so happened to be the straight line of the horizon. Your body moved back to ease the weight on the front end, and as you saw the drop come into view, raised yourself up on the foot pegs and pushed with all your might, bending your legs into the motion as you felt the suspension respond to you and compress before rising again. Instantaneously, you blipped the throttle, giving the Aprilia that final burst, propelling you and lifting you right when the front wheel hit the jumping point you had marked out. Keeping your head up, you let yourself feel the arc that you made together with the bike, eagerly watched your surroundings blur as you continued your calculated fall, and giggled as you heard Seonghwa let out a loud proclamation of “awesome!” as you landed the jump and remained fully in control of the temperamental steed. 

The Guardians had stopped themselves before the leap, clearly not having the borderline death-seeking move programmed into their ridiculous training schemes, nor into their own obedient, law-abiding cells. With the southernmost district, and as such, the Guardian patrol point long behind you, it was now a matter of finding a place to slow down and figure out a safe way home. You laughed airily as the adrenaline egged you on, making you feel like you could take on the entire world, your gang of traitors and snakes, and the masked tyrants that had been chasing you and all that you considered valuable in your new chapter. You survived. Finally, you survived. 

When the empty highway hinted at an exit on the other side, in unspoken agreement the two of you hopped the inexistent border between lanes and swerved into the turn, re-entering the city from a different angle, fully avoiding the southern district. As neon began to occupy your vision once more, the lines of blue, purple, magenta starting to line the streets of your home, you let out a sigh of relief, coming down from the rush of a good chase. As soon as the two of you ensured that there was no hint of Guardians in your vicinity, Seonghwa signalled for you to slow down and stop in a secluded square that was located between the outstretched segments of an abandoned residential block, the doors taped shut with signs proclaiming ‘demolition’ plastered over fading graffiti. 

Hopping off his bike and leaving the helmet and gloves on the seat, he rushed to help you out, the exhaustion from diving headfirst into something that had not been in your active arsenal for a while. Wobbly legs, dizziness and an urge to listen to gravity for once nearly had you stumbling off the bike and onto the cracked pavement, if not for the strong arms, stabilising you by positioning themselves at your waist, and bringing you flush against Seonghwa’s toned body. Through the haze of a numbing fatigue, you could finally make out the slightest tang of gun smoke, blending with an aroma of a sweet perfume, pronounced as he had burned up from the prolonged pressure and thrill. Smoke and vanilla. And you were alive to take it all in. You raised your arms, searching for him, trying to feel out an anchor in the renaissance, clamber out of the ashes that were still coating you in a weight of a past that you had now shed. Fingers flittering across the black tank top, left exposed as he had unzipped the jacket, travelled around his sides to find his lower back and hook themselves together. You let yourself be consumed by the feeling of safety, the feeling of having overcome yourself and finding someone, the one person who was ready to pick you up again. Your body shook as a sob that you were unknowingly holding back flew from your now light heart and into the omniscient night, but all you could feel was warmth. A reliable embrace that was going nowhere, a man who knew who you were, who you had been, and let you decide for yourself who you wanted to become-

“Mars-” you mumbled, pressing your face into Seonghwa in an attempt to let the fabric swallow your emotion.

“-Seonghwa.”

“Huh?” you wanted to look at him, at his dark eyes that held the sky, the universe within them, but the soothing circles that he was drawing on your back as he began to rock gently while keeping you in his arms made you remain in the same position, right against him. With him.

“Seonghwa. Hwa. Whatever nickname you think of but… just. Seonghwa, Y/N. Call me Seonghwa.” you chuckled through the tears that started to decorate your cheeks, earning a confused hum from the biker.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Cheeky.”

“At least we are not threatening each other with grievous bodily harm anymore.” you tried to squeeze him in a way to emphasise your joke, but earned a surprised pained yelp from the man, followed by a pursing of the lips as you darted to face him. 

“Seonghwa?” it was obvious that the new address made him soften considerably, but your worry did not subside. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing really, regular st-”

“Where, Seonghwa, where?” you used his own name against him, forgetting your own overwhelmed state and turning your attention to him.

He was entranced by the way your eyes glistened in the darkness, how the tears that stained your cheeks were only adding to your image. Nothing would make him look differently at you. Nothing ever. And if he had to race against time itself to be able to hold onto you like this, he would do it. He would fight all of the Guardians and Black Pirates combined if it meant that you could smile. You needed to smile. He tried to ease the concern, but the wound that he had acquired during the chase was becoming nearly unbearable. Instead of fighting you, he tilted his head to his left and lifted his arm while keeping the other on your waist. Getting the hint, you flipped the bottom of the cropped jacket and gasped as you saw torn material, reddened, irritated skin, and a mixture of coagulated and still-trickling blood concentrated around where what could only be a bullet grazed Seonghwa’s stunning, tanned skin. 

“What the- and you are just here? Standing? You need treatment, stat!” admonishing his self-disregard, you leaned to inspect the wound more closely, only to have Seonghwa attempt to flip the jacket back and dig his fingers into your side.

“I am fine, I swear-”

“Do you know anyone who can fix this?” not quite in the know of any medical terms, you resorted to treating the wound as though it was a damaged component, except a lot more distressing, and obviously causing a lot more lateral harm than any scratch or even piercing tear could to cold metal. 

“...Not really, no,” after a long pause, he responded. Lowering his arm, Seonghwa returned to his previous hold, except this time, moving until his face was only centimetres away from yours.

“Well then, you know me, I have a first aid kit at my cave.” your voice quivered as you at the man before you. You could tell, he was new too, also reborn from the chaos. Neither of you could predict, but it was obvious that now, that light that you had been chasing was within reach.

“So you can fix bikes and people?”

“Bikes, yes. People? Not really. But I would like for you to see another day please.

“It really isn’t that bad.”

“Then why are you in pain?”

“Because I have been staring at your lips for the past minute and still have not kissed you.”

You blinked once, twice as whatever words were in your throat remained there and fell right back down to be set on fire by what you could only describe as the blowing of multiple fuses. You were not quite sure when the two of you managed to lean so impossibly close to one another, but your arms were fully relaxed, having succumbed to the sensation of his hands dancing across your hips testing the waters, and your vision was occupied by Seonghwa, and Seonghwa alone. His gaze, once again, trailed down from your eyes down to your lips, slow, confident alluring. Ignoring whatever pain he was experiencing, dulling it with a different, more tantalising ache. With your breathing growing more shallow by the second, you were not sure what to expect of Seonghwa in this instant; perhaps more accurately, you were terrified of how this would change your new life. He was taking his time as though he was reading a book, trying to decipher what you were feeling, and while he was more than ready to lean in an destroy what was left of the gap between you, your swift hands that wiped what remained of the moisture on your cheeks and a playful smirk on your lips forced him into a childish pout.

“And you won’t, unless you let me patch you up.”

“And I can kiss you after?”

“...Deal.” to hell with it all, you continued soundlessly.

As rapidly as the moment had developed, it ceased to persist, with Seonghwa detangling himself from you and telling you to grab your helmet while pressing a couple of buttons that were concealed on his wristwatch.

“What about the bike?”

“Yeo will sort out the bike. I just pinged him with the coordinates.”

“You have a spy watch?” amazed, you exclaimed.

“Nifty, huh? Blue Bird exclusive.”

“I need to speak to the engineers in your circle, I need to absorb some skills from them.”

“I can see you’ll be speaking to Yeo more and more soon, then. He is quite the techy guy.”

As you were about to hop onto the bike, you thought once more about the injury, and tapped the already seated Seonghwa on the shoulder. Flipping open his visor, the man moved his chin forward, prompting you to go on.

“Scooch back.”

“But I can-”

“No buts. You are injured, and this is a hazard,” receiving a groan in response, you refused to pause, “besides, I can’t exactly hold on to you now, can I?” 

That seemed to do the trick as the previously proud, arrogant man obeyed your command and slid away from the handlebar, but as soon as you were in position, revealed that potentially, it was not you winning here as he relished in the opportunity to embrace you for the entire trip back to OC, occasionally distracting you by letting his hands roam your torso, leaving you dangerously close to pulling over. But you had enough experience of being stoic, and Seonghwa still had much to learn about you, so you kept a steady speed, and greeted the luminescence of your neighbourhood with a relaxed rumble of the Hayabusa.

-

As you turned on the lights to your studio apartment and the two of you took off your shoes, you sped away to find the green case of health and all things that you were technically not supposed to have in your possession but did anyways. Funnily enough, Seonghwa’s comment had not been too far from the truth; back when you had been in the Black Pirates, a mechanic was fully expected to patch the customers up, as well as the bike, considering that both were normally against the law and had to remain undercover. Even when in certain districts the gang did bribe their way up to have a hand in decision-making, thus making it possible for the members to receive regular treatment, many had gotten used to the quick and easy drive-by healings, and would always choose to trust the person who gave life to their motorcycles over even the most qualified, certified doctor. Such was the rhythm that you had fallen into, the one that transitioned into the you in Night City through a library of skills and odd habits - like keeping the first aid kit right below the sink, the logic being that one could grab the kit, wash their hands and be ready for war, equipped with antiseptic and a plethora of improvisation techniques made up on the spot. 

With Seonghwa settled on one of the foldable chairs that you kept to the side for when you wanted to sit while eating instead of leaning over the kitchen counter, you took the other, placed it right in front of the tired man and got to work. Carefully guiding his arms out of the leather jacket, you were left with a far too attractive biker, clad in only a black tank top and the ridiculously expensive chains, and the leather trousers that tightened around his legs as he wriggled a little and took a more comfortable position to sit. The earring with the feather right at the end still dangled in his ear, and his hair, ruffled but retaining some shape thanks to what you thought to be humble use of a styling gel. You needed to avoid his eyes at all costs, the burning eyes that were trained on you, and only you. It did not take an expert to guess what Seonghwa was replaying in his mind the entire time that you were around him. As you lifted the tank top and inspected what was now a dried up mass over a graze, you sighed with relief.

“Good news.”

“Good?” Seonghwa asked back, suspiciously out of breath.

“Yeah. Now, I can’t check for internal bleeding, but outwardly, this is easy enough. Seems that you got really lucky. Very. Over the top kind of lucky actually. Can’t say the same for the jacket though, but at least you are not a wine barrel.”

“Charming.”

“I’ll just clean the thing and put a big bandage on it so that it won’t get infected. I fear that most of the pain is from these old injuries though…” you absent-mindedly traced some of the hematomas, which, judging by their colouration, were well on their way to dissolving into a smoothness, with your fingertips, making the man tense up. He turned his head towards you, glancing back and forth as you inspected the collage of injuries that he had collected on his body.

“We’re fighters though, aren’t we.”

“Fighters need holidays too.”

“Right.”

“You need to park yourself in a garage and give your engine a nice break…” you joked, more to yourself as you turned to bring the green case to your lap for easier searching, keeping one hand in place to hold the cotton top up, until the finger grew tired, “hey could you be a darling and hold your own shirt for me? Cheers.”

Seonghwa jumped into action, enjoying the soft speech, and replaced your hand with his, the digits ever so slightly brushing against one another as he moved to hold onto the material.

“You are in luck.”

“Is that so? Even more than over the top?” ignoring his interjection, you continued:

“Uh-huh. I have hydrocolloid bandages left. This one’s actually barely noticeable, but works like a charm with weeping wounds so, get your flesh over here and you’ll be patched up in no time.” turning, he repositioned himself to allow you to clean the cut, removing some of the attached fabric that had dried with the first droplets, and leaving the redness exposed to the disinfectants, and to the patch. In no time at all, your work was done. Satisfied, you grabbed a tissue out of the packet that was sitting in the kit and cleaned the ointment and adhesive that stuck to you.

“I’m afraid I can’t help with the clothes though. Not my area of expertise.”

“You did more than enough, Y/N. And all this after racing through and out of Night City from five Guardians on a totally new bike.”

“I am a woman of many talents.”

“That’s true…” that honey-sweet, deep voice, slowing into a sultry beckoning as Seonghwa’s hand moved to rest on your knee. A man on a mission after all. You chuckled and snapped the first aid kit shut, easily sauntering from his approaches and enjoying every minute. 

“You want hot chocolate?” you asked over your shoulder as you stashed the case back under the sink and shut the cupboard. Nothing was stopping you from being a good host to a very good person. Even though it was rather apparent that Seonghwa was eyeing something else on the menu, the sound of a sweet treat was rather appealing. You were right about him faking drinking coffee after all.

“Yes please.”

As you moved about the kitchen, fetching the cylindrical jar of chocolate powder and getting the coffee machine started for your own beverage of choice, Seonghwa moved to reposition the chairs closer to a table that bore the appearance of an ironing board squashed against the wall until he pulled it down and pushed the two legs at the free end out. Patiently, he admired your studio apartment, your corner of the city that was situated right above the shop. The walls were bare, only decorated with old holes from nails and with the odd scratch here and there. Minimal furniture, with the large dresser probably being donated to you by Yunho. The neatly made bed which judging by the headboard and armrests was also a small sofa, located right beside the window that was covered by wooden blinds roughly painted an off-white, was probably the newest addition to the metres of this room. Undoubtedly, the piece of furniture was acquired after you had moved here, after you had made your bosses certain that you were here to stay. And Seonghwa was going to make sure of it. Night City was now to be your new home, and when you tapped the table to alert him of the hot beverage that you had prepared, now ready and billowing steam out of the mug right in front of him, he revered how beautiful you looked, surrounded by the mechanic shop, by the streets of the district, by the city that he had despised for so long but the one that had helped him find you through mysterious serendipity.

"Thank you." he took a cautious sip, sighing in elation.

"No problem. I'll pretend that chocolate helps with internal bruising and call myself a doctor." You commented while settling beside the vigilante, making him smile.

“How’d you guess I would not want coffee?” you glanced over at your companion while taking a tentative sip once the initial temperature shock had subsided.

“You never order it.”

“But I never-”

“I think we have spent enough time together to know the basics, right?” A bolder swig, and you could feel the caffeine begin to hit your system like a nitro boost.

“Well I seem to be discovering more and more things about you every second, Y/N.”

“And how are you finding it?” you took the quietness as a chance to test him. It was barely a test, but nevertheless, too important to dismiss. The small questions, ones said in passing and ones to be forgotten were almost always the ones that were to be the most important.

“I want to learn more and more, since I simply cannot get enough.”

Momentarily bashful, you looked at the floor and thought of the garage beneath your feet. The place where you had initially determined that this same man who was now unbelievably bold in his expression of his feelings for you was to be your sworn enemy. How times changed, for the better. Regardless of the twists and turns, the ups and downs, even in the deepest night there was a light to find, and a light that was meant to be yours. This new life was your light, and Seonghwa wanted to be part of it. You grinned at the thought, and finally met Seonghwa’s smouldering gaze, fuelled by care, by determination, by the vision of a future.

“You know, I think I thought of a nickname for you, Seonghwa.”

“Oh?” he set down his mug, mirroring you.

“Yeah. I think I’ll call you mine.” you stood up, knowingly ambling to the light switch, listening to the biker following suit.

“Watch out, I might just marry you on the spot if you keep that up.”

“Well, I am not your bride but you may kiss me.”

“Y/N, you are too addictive, and will make me lose my mind.”

“Well then, are you mine?”

“In every lifetime I am yours.”

Enveloped in a new night, illuminated only by the colours that seeped through the half open blinds you ceased to think and rationalise, giving yourself up to instinct as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, twisting you from the wall, coaxing you closer to him, towards his warmth, his heart right there for you to take. It was easy to oblige and you pinched the material of his tank top, prompting him to step even closer, sure that he was practically beaming into the kiss as he nudged himself forward, lifting your head up just a little to prolong the contact. It was as though he was certain that if you were to break apart from one another, you would disappear. He wanted more, needed more. Digits tracing abstract shapes on your back, running through your hair, Seonghwa wanted to remember every detail. Just as he had said, he wanted to learn every part of you.

Lost in paradise, the kiss was electric. A hand that found itself toying with his chains, and proceeding to snake up the back of his neck to tug on his hair just enough to make him shakily exhale made Seonghwa switch his gears. A previous tentativeness, a tender exploration turned into an urgency as his tongue flicked against your lower lip begging for entrance, which you were more than eager to give. You sighed into the passionate call for more that left you breathless. And yet, in these seconds turned into an unprecedented timelessness, if you had to give up every life-saving molecule for even a fraction of nearly impossible unity, you would do it in a heartbeat. The sensation was as though you had finally woken up from a deep slumber, dragged from the somnolent abyss, and every vibration in the air was resonating with you, resonating with Seonghwa. 

You felt drunk, dizzy as you guided Seonghwa to the bed, having very quickly memorised the layout of your tiny apartment to the point where you could move around even if there was not a single source of light. In a passionate blur your top was left by the chairs, while your trousers found their place right in front of the bed, together with Seonghwa’s tank top. With every flame that crossed between you, you laid yourself bare to one another, honest and open, and the vulnerability, intimacy you let yourself indulge in marked another beginning. As your nude bodies laid down onto the dark grey sheets, the both of you fervent for more but aware of the importance of honouring every step, Seonghwa suggested, feeling his side remind him of his injury:

“I think you’re going to have to take the lead here, Y/N, I’m a little bruised up.”

“Of course,” you leaned in for another kiss, smiling at the sweetness, “You ready?”

“More than.”

Seonghwa leaned against the pillows and headboard, devoured by lust as you moved further and further down until you reached his exposed member, leaking precum, hard, pleading for you to give it at least some attention. Testing the waters, you languidly rubbed the tip with your thumb in circles coating it in the translucent liquid and making Seonghwa breathe as though there was not enough oxygen. One glance back and you were in awe of the beauty before you. Eyes shut, reddened lips slightly parted, head tilted back as if he was caught in a divine act. The light from the street outside made him look all the more ethereal, and his skin, now an indescribably stunning collage of hues that had crept through the blinds, was a masterpiece that you wanted to honour with your love. As your teasing progressed into a gentle pumping, first of the tip and then with your hand sliding down the entire length, only to stop and give extra care to the base of the member, a low groan reached you - a melody that only encouraged you. Heat pooled to your core as you continued to elicit a string of indecipherable mumbles, a deep moan, and the most magnificent expressions from the man who had never thought you would even cross paths with again. How foolish you had been, masking Seonghwa’s stunning presence, response to your every action, and his eagerness to please you by whispering praises for how good you were making him feel, how amazing you looked and were, and how he was so grateful. Your prior ignorance was almost impossible to even consider now, as you let spit drip down from your mouth onto his dick, adding more lubrication and letting you increase the speed. The wanton sounds of your hand pumping Seonghwa’s throbbing cock, blended with the breaths turning shallow, any moan coming out airy, barely there, were filling you with your own desire, and your free hand quickly moved between your legs, fingers gliding along the folds, finding them to be slick, soaking, needy. You began to run your digits over your now wet clit, rolling over the nub painfully slow in a weak attempt to prevent yourself from cumming too soon, but what used to be a hint of a high only accelerated to a knot at the bottom of your stomach, pulsating and begging for fullness. With how Seonghwa’s hips began to buck up, oblivious to the bruises, the wounds that ghosted and adorned his body, you needed him.

“Hwa…”

“Mmh- yes?”

“May I… ride you?” Through phrases broken up by your choice to quicken the pace of your hand, abusing your clit until a trembling sensation spread over your legs in anticipation of an orgasm, you voiced your desire.

“Please- Y/N I- yes-” equally as shattered, Seonghwa was barely able to respond, moaning as you gave him a chance to recover ever so slightly, letting his member spring free, but more desperate than before for stimulation.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Back pocket, trousers, wallet.” he sighed, pointing at the discarded article at the foot of the bed.

“How’d you even get it in this Sector?” you asked, fishing the item out of his wallet, tearing the packaging and crawling back to unroll it.

“Con… tra… band,” he enunciated through your swift actions, biting his lower lip as he felt your heat press against him, your hand guiding the cock between your folds as you rocked back and forth.

“Vigilantes indeed. Protecting in all kinds of ways.”

“Are you kidding me?” Seonghwa groaned at the sorry attempt of a joke, his mind conflicted between the humour and the unbearable closeness of your pussy, lined up against his tip.

“I’m not the one smuggling condoms, though I have nothing to say but thank you, darling.”

Lowering yourself onto the member, bit by bit until he bottomed out inside you, you leaned forward, consumed by the euphoric feeling. Seonghwa took this as a chance to caress the side of your face, draw a line against your jaw and lead you towards him with soft fingers under your chin. Placing one kiss, another on your lips, and peppering your cheeks and nose with loving pecks, he encouraged you. He wanted to ensure that you felt loved, and only loved. When you began to move, hands finding the headboard for better balance and as a security measure so that you would not hurt Seonghwa, his gaze stayed on your face, bearing witness to the single most gorgeous view of his mortality. 

He gave himself up to you, something that he would have never imagined, but something that felt so right that he was terrified of thinking how his life would be had he never met you. Seonghwa let you control the pace, and when your walls tightened around his dick with your climax fast-approaching, did nothing to stop you, deny you of the ecstasy, much to his own fortune, for the cries of his name as you reached your high and rode it out, leading him to his own heavenly demise were now permanently etched into his brain. Never before did anything of his sound so captivating. Never before did he think that he could see a light in this dark city, in his dark path. But there she was, an angel in his arms, falling forwards, a barely noticeable shake still over taking her as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your lustful fever accentuated by the coolness of the metal necklaces. Seonghwa kissed your cheek once again, then your forehead and the crown of your head, thanking you, adoring you, and as the minutes ticked past, finding his footing in the post-coital bliss, and nudging for you to clean up with him, so the oasis you had created in your four walls could last longer, and you could drift into the sunniest dreams in each other’s embrace.

As you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, flushed from the shower and changed into an oversized t-shirt, his leg lazily thrown over yours and breath tickling your exposed skin, you felt even more alive. As he pulled you closer to him, and with the hand that was fully on the other side of you reached out to rest his palm on the back of yours, and let your fingers intertwine, you let yourself fall into a serenity that you had never known, and listened to his heartbeat through the tee you had given him, a rhythm that you never wanted to forget, a soul that helped yours truly come back from a place of no return. Seonghwa traced the tattoos on your skin, whispering about their marvel, their story, pointing out his favourites, the details that put every piece together into one flowing design. He repeated, again and again, his adoration for you, kissing your earlobe only to say it once more, accompanied by his favourite sound: the syllables that made up your name. In rare moments like this, everything felt easy, within reach. In this time and space that existed after a revival, a self-discovery and a promise of a new beginning, you were ready to take the scenic route.

“Hwa, could you pass me the C-spanner?”

“Ah, the mechanic’s scythe, sure thing.” you rolled your eyes and grinned, accepting the tool from Seonghwa’s outstretched hand. You were working on a swanky new Yamaha that had been added to the general Blue Bird collection after a certain Aprilia had been turned into scraps in the name of security. Not that you knew anything though - after all that was not you, and you did not exist at all in the databases of the Guardians, having flown under the radar thanks to some quick camera wipes, and security checks around Night City. Your new beginning was greeting you with open arms.

As you adjusted the pre-load on the rear shock absorbers, Seonghwa noticed something that reminded him of cling film peeking out from under your sleeve and letting his curiosity get the better of him, inched towards you, around the bike and giving you barely a second to register his intentions, poked at the plastic.

“What’s that, love?”

“A little upgrade.” you smiled to yourself and continued to make adjustments to the energetic beast.

“A tattoo?” he inquired, taking the c-spanner from your hand and laying it down on the ground. You spun on your old stool to face him.

“Mhm…”

“Show me?”

“I don’t know… probably won’t be clear enough through the film and I don’t want to ruin it so…”

“C’mon Y/N, weren’t you gushing about it to me just yesterday? How Seonghwa would adore it and-”

“Don’t sell me out, bossman.” you retorted, faking a glare at Yunho who was in the depths of a discussion about component orders with Jongho and evidently, was getting more and more bored.

“And focus on the papers, Yunho.” the latter rapid-fired after you, making Yunho groan and shift his attention away.

“So?” Seonghwa nudged your foot with his, shoving his hands in his pockets. Clearly, whatever tailor he knew in this city was a magic person, because even months after the turning point in your identity, a switch in time that let you open your eyes to a beautiful new world, the beloved biker pseudo-uniform in black and orange hues was pristine, seamless, bearing no signs of any gunshots, nor of any tears nor grazes.

You stood up, and cautiously rolled up your sleeve to reveal a transparent bandage that covered your fresh ink. Another restart, another call for a new step in the form of a single blue feather, with a stunning gradient and black detailing. As Seonghwa peered at the design, open-mouthed and silent before nearly squeezing the air out of you as he hugged you as tightly as he possibly could and spun you around, you blinked away the last of your doubts that had been stuck to you from before the fateful arrival to Night City. In the most unexpected places, surrounded by the most unexpected people, time was finally on your side, and let you slowly but surely take steps towards the you that you were happy being. The you that was loved and could love. The you that turned a fresh new leaf, and was more alive than ever.

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Madness and Emotion - A Halateez Coded Song Analysis.

It’s been rolling through my head for a while that Crazy Form could be Halateez. That perhaps Will (or at least the first half of it) is from their perspective. It would be in line with the color schemes and the general dark theme of the of the album. That and some of the concept photos seem to really lean that way.

Like, look at these concept photos & tell me they’re not Halateez coded

It really got me thinking though, if Will is Halateez then a lot of the lyrics we’re used to seeing in other songs would mean different things. There are a lot of lyrics and themes we can easily connect to Feverteez and their story arc, but not nearly as many we can connect to Halateez. It’s been years since we’ve been introduced to the concept of Halateez, and yet we still don’t know much about them other than they’re from Strictland and we’re leading a revolution until they were captured.

I know many people debate if Halateez and Feverteez are the same people or different people. Generally I think of them as different people, because even if they were the same originally their different life experiences would’ve made them different on the inside. (Although I admit, this album made me wonder if perhaps the theories ab them merging/being the same person at some point, are true.)

I’m not necessarily saying that every song on the album is Halateez, because we can’t know that one way or the other for sure. (You have no idea how long I’ve been tearing my hair out over this.) But what I can tell you is that Will feels different. Outlaw is crazy! Outlaw is chaos! But Will is different. Will is desperation to the point of madness.

Something I don’t think Feverteez is capable of right now.

So without further ado, here’s my vaguely Halateez perspective song analysis. (We Know/Emergency/Arriba/Silver Light)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

WE KNOW

This song is by far a favorite of mine on the album. It comes on strong. It’s powerful. There’s desperation and challenge in it, as thought it’s the beginning of something bigger.

It’s The Comeback. It’s their comeback. Halateez.

One thing I found interesting as I was reading the lyrics is how much it seems as though they are both the hunters and the hunted. They’re back and they’re coming after you. But who is you? The government? Z? The brainwashed citizens of Strictland?

I swear, “I’m the morning,” always gives me chills. It’s so perfect for the role they’re playing because it connects both to the idea of waking up and also to imagery of the sun rising in the darkness. Dawn. In Wave, the concept of ‘the wave’ is that of a challenge a trial. They’re sending a warning because they are the challenge.

When I think of a wave I imagine something huge, overwhelming, something bigger than just them. Halateez is back, but it’s not just them. Feverteez is still a symbol of hope sure, but Halateez is the og. I would guess that even though many people are willing to join the revolution while Feverteez is spearheading it, many more would show up to follow Halateez especially if they pull a Jesus and come back from their ‘presumed deadness’. That would make sense connected to the title of the album. Will. A word that makes me think of the phrase ‘the will of the people’. As the Crazy Form MV suggests, they’re assembling their own little army of progressively growing number. Their own Wave made of the citizens of Strictland.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

I see this as a threat to Z & anyone who’ll stand by him, but also as a message of hope to anyone trapped so deep in the blackhole of emotionless existence that they don’t think they can escape. However…I wonder if part of it is directed towards Feverteez too, as a warning not to get sucked into the false dreams as they have a habit of doing. (Which would be kinda funny if the unit songs are Feverteez in dreams again ToT)

Even if Feverteez has been doing their best to help people, in the end it’s still Halateez’s world. In the end they’re the ones with the most power in the revolution. They are back and they are coming for you. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“-thunder will turn the lights on…” I’m going to assume that this reference to ‘thunder’ is supposed to mean Thunder the undercover organization within Prestige Academy. So Halateez (and Feverteez) have teamed up with Thunder (as in the Diaries) and are trusting them to “turn the lights on”. My theory on that is very much connected to the Will diaries. At the end of the Will diaries Thunder’s leader, (the Be Free girl) is sent in to meet Z, an undercover mission that would bring her to very center of the Strictland regime. If she is caught showing emotion everything will be blown, but if she manages to stay hidden, she’ll be able to relay information straight from the government’s head office to Thunder and the Black Pirates (Halateez’s revolutionary group that Feverteez has been working with). My guess is that turning the lights on is supposed to mean shedding light on the terrible things Z has done. Releasing information that no one else should know and making it clear who’s really the bad guys.

Halateez is finally ready to reveal themselves to the world, they’re no longer waiting or hiding. It is the right time to come out and stand as they are. (Likely alongside Feverteez somehow.)

I’d also like to mention how cool the last line is, because it comes through with very real world implications. “My mic’s on” is a very kpop thing to say, (for obvious reasons) at concerts etc. BUT it’s also very applicable to the idea of ‘be careful I’m not afraid to say what needs to be said’ it’s a thinly veiled threat about revealing the truth. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Emergency

Frankly this song is so concerning. The first time I read the lyrics I was a little bit scared for the tone of this whole album. This whole song is just pure Dionysian madness. No matter what iteration of Ateez you think Will is, Emergency is concerning.

This whole chunk of lyrics could be connected to irl Ateez, (five years since mainstream, etc…) which would be pretty depressing, but also something which is necessary to think about. Even when looking at things from a Lore™️ perspective, realizing how it applies to real life is important to understanding the perspective. From an irl perspective, lore aside, this song is about getting lost in fame. Endless parties, endless emergencies, and a life you can’t go back to. The pressure closing in. Losing yourself in the game.

Which, though not exactly what Halateez/Feverteez is feeling, it’s pretty darn close. This song, lore perspective, is still about the pressure closing in and losing yourself in the game. The biggest differences is that Halateez is infamous rather than famous, and the pressure is quite literally the fear of death. So, uh yea. This could be Feverteez, sure, finally crumbling under the pressure of having to save a world that isn’t their own. But I really, really, believe it’s Halateez. Why? First, overall Halateez is rougher around the edges than Feverteez. Second, (and most important) how long has Halateez had emotion? If we assume The Real is their backstory we can say they’ve had emotion since Highschool….right? But if it’s not, then how long has it been? 5 years?? More???

Is that really enough to feel the depths of despair and come back from it? Is that really enough time to learn to control how you feel? Sometimes do they wish they’d never woken their emotions?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

I’m going to agree with Tiny Bug Ink on this one, that the Light is another reference to their treasure. (their video here) But what is their treasure. We know what Feverteez treasures are from the first diaries. But do we know what Halateez’s are? Are they the same?

“A wish I’ve fervently desired from the beginning of the explosion.” This isn’t something Feverteez would say. The explosion is the revolution, but Halateez is the only one who saw the beginning of the revolution, they started it, they got the ball rolling.

Why? Why did they start the revolution? They wanted Freedom.

Freedom is their treasure.

It took me a week to realize this, but the phrase “Who is gonna play?” along with the “You better run, hide & seek.” from We Know and Yeosang’s hopscotch part from Bouncy are all probably supposed to connect to the idea of The Game. (Something Tiny Bug Ink pointed out in this video)

Throughout the whole World Series (yet another phrase associated with games), Ateez has consistently referred to the world as a game. These lines are just a few of the many that connect the concepts, and I’m not quite sure their meaning in the long term, but it is really interesting. As of this song they’ve lost their hope. They’ve lost their trust in the world and maybe even each other. They’re stuck in emotional limbo drowning themselves in alcohol. Thinking of the events of the Will diaries I don’t really blame them. Somehow the events of the diaries seems so much worse if it was the world you came from, not some dreamlike parallel universe.

I also wanted to point out “Party never ends”, because it’s just yet another usage of the word End which they seem to be throwing in everywhere this comeback. Party never ends.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Crazy Form

(For sake of length and my sanity I’m going to skip Crazy Form rn. I do have a separate post on it though, here.)

I would like to say though that the phrase “Ateez go!” doesn’t necessarily have to be self referential. It could be encouragement. Like arriba.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

ARRIBA

This song was frustratingly hard to analyze. It has a very similar vibe to Emergency when it comes to lyrics and general theme, but unlike Emergency it’ no longer a cry for help, they’ve just let everything go.

I thought it was interesting that Arriba, (assuming google isnt screwing with me) is essentially Spanish slang for Up! (encouraging) So it’s probably supposed to be an equal equivalent to;

“We go up.”

(I love the stage it’s so silly! And cowboy! The lyrics on the other hand-) ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

For the chorus, the words ‘dirty night’ we (as in me) almost immediately connected to sex, debauchery, etc… And while yes there is plenty of evidence in the song to make that connection, I feel like it has a double meaning. For violence. It’s a dirty night not just because they’re letting their inhibitions go and partying hard. It’s a dirty night because of the fear and hopelessness that even drove them to that point. For the threat of death hanging over them.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

I don’t have too much to say here about these lines. Though I would like to point out the obvious mentions of time, madness, and most importantly the end. This whole album constantly seems to reference the end of something. Which is both concerning, and not because of the whole ‘beginning is the end, end is the beginning’ thing.

I’d also like the add the comments of this blog here, because they make a good summary of why La cucaracha is important. vv

(Plz go check out their blog I love it.)

Their sets for the stages also seem to reinforce that connection to the Mexican revolution.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“My nose grows longer like Pinocchio’s” I think this line is particularly important, simply because it’s not instantly connected to the other lyrics. Ok so, he’s lying. But to whom? The people around him? Or himself?

I really like the context of the word dreamers. Irl a ‘street of dreamers’ is someplace someone goes to achieve their dreams, but contextually it could also mean a street of dreaming people. It’s the road of the people of the revolution. Dreaming of freedom literally and figuratively. I love the addition of Picasso and Salvador both as Spanish artists, but additionally, on top of that, they were both part of the Surrealism movement in art. A movement in art that emphasized the power of dreams and subconscious.

(Quotes taken from here, bc they summarized it better than I could.) Tbh I wasn’t expecting their actual work to be connected to the theme, but here we are. HJ & production appreciation hours.

“Blood spreading up and down.” As of the diaries Z has moved on from imprisonment and secret executions to public hangings. Like, just the idea of that is just…so fked up. Even if, as of Arriba, they’re in their safe little dreamworld they created in Crazy Form to give the citizens hope, they’re still in the same places. Even if they’re in a dream, they’re partying where people died. Like….ehh.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Silver Light

Let me just start off with saying that this song breaks me almost every time I listen to it. There’s just something so intensely emotional about it that it always makes me want to cry. Silver Light is the moment where the insanity of the last four songs melt into a single ray of hope. It’s perfect.

And it was also the hardest to analyze. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The very first line of the song has the word chain in it, and it’s sung by Wooyoung. Which makes me instantly connect it to two things; The Fever Diaries and the Wonderland MV.

In his very first diary entry, Wooyoung talks about stage fright. This is the final paragraph of his entry. (Read the full thing here)

In his diary Wooyoung uses the word ‘chain’ to represent his fear. What was holding him back. I think, in Silver Light it’s being used the same way. The citizens of Strictland are afraid of emotion, afraid of feeling, afraid of being in pain and showing it. I wasn’t expecting to relate so fully with these lyrics, but as I was turning them over in my head I realized something…It’s the same as when you want to cry but can’t because you’re afraid of being vulnerable. Afraid people will judge you. It’s that feeling, isn’t it?

Being afraid of showing emotion…Chained by fear…huh.

I’m sure there are more times they use the word chain in their discography. Times that aren’t related to Woo. But I can’t think of any off the top of my head, so for now he just owns that word.

Now, I can’t talk about the word wings without mentioning Seonghwa’s (super fking amazing) dance break on D1 of their tour. It lives in my mind rent free and I’ve thought about nothing else. It’s so- *screaming/crying*

But it’s also related to wings and the concept of freedom. The Strictland guards ‘take his wings’ a metaphor for taking his freedom. They leave him because he’s already broken, not physically, but mentally. They stole his freedom of thought. (I’m not crying no)

I could talk forever about this dance break. I won’t, but I do want to talk about how it relates to Halateez. If they lived in the emotionless void that Strictland is for their whole lives and then one day discovered feeling. If they learned how to feel and sense and hope and yearn. How to live alive. Could they go back?

They were captured, locked up, away from their friends in glass boxes, and forced to watch people being tortured. They had their freedom, which is probably their only treasure, ripped from them. They were sent to hell after they first learned how to feel. Don’t you think they’d want to go back to how it was before ? To embrace emotionlessness? To give up? The stealing of his wings can mean a lot of things. Not being able to go back home, losing emotion, losing hope, giving up, the moment of despair. But look at him and tell me that’s not what despair looks like.

(Ngl I added these bc I love them and everyone needs to appreciate actor Hwa.) ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This verse gives me heart palpitations, and not just bc I love HJ’s rapping.

“This is the last chance, maybe.” This line makes me think of the breaking of the cromer in the Crazy Form MV. Assuming the scene isn’t a reference to when Yeosang broke the first cromer to save them, they broke the second cromer. Maybe there’s a third artifact they can use to time/dimension travel. Maybe that’s what the cube is. But if that’s true, if they break it they can’t go back home. It also made me wonder. Was that how Halateez felt when they first found the cromer and first used the it? They were desperate enough to summon Feverteez from another dimension. A plan that sounds like a last ditch effort if I ever heard one. As though they’d lost all hope in themselves.

Throughout the whole album there are constant references to the end, the last, the final. Will is the end of something. It could be the end of the uprising whether winning or losing, the end of Halateez hiding their identities, or even the end of Feverteez dream and adventure in Strictland. Really, we won’t even know what was the end of until next comeback. (It could pick up anywhere, I’m scared.) To be honest, this was the hardest set of lyrics to analyze. Specifically these lines: “There’s no law saying die. The trigger at the edge of breath.” Like excuse me what. (Genius.com really let me down on this one ToT) So I looked up other translations and they were equally confusing. But I did find this vv

I don’t pretend to know Korean, so going strictly off these translations I’m guessing it roughly means: We can’t die yet. So there’s that.

“Whether I want it or not this is my life.” “In the time of regrets I’m going. Here is the last man standing.”

HJ gets his mic drop. (Imma go cry) ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In irl sense the “radiant light” and “countless voices” are Atiny. There have been countless times Ateez has referred to us as their Light, Lights, or Stars. (Excuse me I’m sobbing.)

In a lore sense though, it probably means the citizens of Strictland. The people who are slowly waking up and desperate for freedom, desperate for someone to save them from meaningless existence.

Which, really. Isn’t it the same? Living our boring lives, to work, to school, to sleep. A lot of us these days are really living in a grey world. Ateez music, their performances, are loud and bright, emotional and spectacular. They motivate and inspire us to wake up. To find our treasures. To feel our emotions. To dance.

Ateez started small, like really small. But now they’re able to inspire us to dream big, to hope. I like to think this song says the opposite is true as well. We inspire them, to hope, to continue going forward. And as idealistic as it sounds, I believe it. Because I’ve been inspired by fellow Atiny’s creations time and time again. ❤️

Now, for the final piece. In typical me fashion I looked deeper than I needed to and found something interesting on the concept of Ego. (So it connects to Crazy Form too)

In Freudian psychology, Ego is the conscious part of the mind that keeps your Id (instincts/monkey brain) in line with your Superego (morality/ideals). Without a strong enough Ego you lose control of yourself and descend into a kind of insanity characterized by blindly searching for pleasure. Ego is characterized as the realistic part of the human psyche, including rational thinking, planning, and self-control. (More info here.)

In this context “My ego’s in this show.” Likely is supposed to mean; ‘I’ve thought this through’, or ‘I’m doing this of my own will’.

Will

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ This post took 2 months to write bc I kept updating it as they came out with more stuff. (So some of it is better written than others ToT)

I almost didn’t even post it, but here we are… So if you made it this far, thanks for reading!!! ❤️

I know that I am going hard on my Halateez agenda, but their story is incredibly vague for how important it is. I feel like, even if they’re dead/gone/merged, Feverteez’s journey is still related to them more than it’s not. That’s why I go so hard on my Halateez shenanigans. Because they’re important dammit.

As always, feel free to add your own ideas and comments. I by no means think I’m right about everything (or anything) but the more ideas out there the more connections we can make. In the end, theories and speculation is part of what makes the story so fun. Atiny Fighting!! \ (＾▽＾\* )

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Not Ok MV Analysis

When Not Ok dropped, I was floored. It’s so good!!! So, as one does, I watched MV again and again too. At about the third time around, I began to realize that each of the member’s scenes are connected to the original Fever Diaries. So without further ado, here’s my analysis;

Hongjoong is stuck watching a screen, and the words he sees, (missing, alone, loneliness, behind, family, mother) connect back to his original dream; to become famous, like the people on tv, so his family would notice him. So he would no longer be alone. That’s his ‘trauma’. And in the end, the only way for him to break free is to destroy the phone.

You could argue his scenes are commentary on our modern reality, addiction, the horrors of constant media consumption, etc… and they are somewhat, but even more than that it’s about how the ideals of media effected his dreams. His addiction wasn’t the phone itself, but the unrealistic ideal of who to be. The idea that a perfect family exists, or that people are never lonely. That becoming perfect would change anything. At the end of the song most of them are able to break free of their ‘trauma’, and HJ does it by destroying what originally set him on his path.

I think for Hongjoong, freedom is realizing he doesn’t need to be that false ideal to have what he wants. That not everyone is perfect, and that if he doesn’t want to be alone, he needs to run for it in real life, not in some imaginary one.

Yunho sees his brother, flickering, glitching, and eventually disappearing. They’re in a theater, possibly like his brother might have once performed at. We don’t know too much about his brother from the diaries except that he liked playing music, and had a messed up leg, but I think it’s plausible that he would’ve performed at local theaters. As for why Yunho sees him…I think it’s supposed to represent his obsession. The theater itself represents his mind, how he’s constantly searching for traces of his brother.

In the Fever diaries, Yunho blames himself for his brother being in a coma, so much so that he starts following his brother’s dream; music. Then of course, through music, he met the guys and started traveling through time. It seemed like he’d moved on somewhat. Yet, in World Diaries when he met his brother in the past, he refused to leave him. In the end, when he chose to find the members again, his brother got hurt in the collateral. Possibly even killed this time. (Something possibly supported by the flies on the clothes in the MV.) So it’s safe to say that his guilt and fear are still fresh as ever.

(Yes this is a screenshot from YH’s scene. It’s what convinced me that it’s his brother) Overwhelmed with that guilt, Yunho’s been following his brother’s dream, this whole time. This whole time. It makes me think that maybe his brother disappearing at the end, in the same way the other break free from their shackles, is him gaining freedom. In the end, to live free, he needs to break out of his brother’s dream and live his own. No matter how much he loves his brother, to truly achieve something great, it needs to be his own will.

Seonghwa and Yeosang are in the same room, because their original ‘trauma’ was the same. Both of them were trapped due to rules and schedules. Yeosang was trapped in a ‘perfect’ life by an external force, his father, whereas Seonghwa was trapped in the same life, but by his own mind.

Both of them are playing Go, under heavy surveillance. Both of them have heavy, expensive looking watches on, that are constantly flashing with the words: obey, money, do work, fame, success, wake up, control. Those watches are their ‘shackles’ the constant goals, reminders, timers. You could think of it like a smart watch, literally giving reminders, but I think it’s supposed to be a literal watch. Time is counting down, but they only think of it as things they have to do, not as something mutable. Numbers, letters, strategies. Life is a game to be won, not a journey to be enjoyed.

Yeosang is the first to wake up, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s in a cage, and can’t escape on his own. (Interesting to me, because he saves the members in the diaries, but he cant save himself.) In the world diaries, when he fully breaks away from his father’s thinking, he attributes it to being with the others. It’s a change that happened in his own mind, but he needed someone to show him there was hope. He couldn’t do it alone. In the MV it’s the same. He wants to break free, but can’t alone. This is the play that triggered YS to wake up. vv

I think it’s significant for a handful of reasons. First, he’s losing, something that shouldn’t happen in his ‘perfect’ world. Second, his piece is fully boxed in (which is overkill). It’s caged, just like him. Third, and most interesting to me, is that the four Xs around a piece in Go are called liberties. So he’s quite literally had his liberties taken.

Seonghwa only wakes up when he sees the clock. In the diaries, SH woke up when he saw the girl dancing, it was a trigger for him to change how he was living. Unlike YS, no one was forcing SH to live perfectly. All the rules and schedules he followed like a religion, he made up himself. For him, deciding to change his life was completely internal, triggered by something anyone could’ve experienced. It’s the same in the MV. Seonghwa wakes up easily, but only after seeing the clock. Realizing that his life is ticking down to nothing, without him ever really living.

After waking up, Seonghwa is able to remove his watch easily. Proof that he had it on of his own volition. Then once free, he's able to free Yeosang who can’t escape on his own.

As for Wooyoung and Mingi, they are both in the same room, yet alone. Their fears were also both incredibly similar, their fears were other people. At first you would think they would be together in the room, but part of what made their fear so strong was being alone. So they’re together, but separate. When the two of them are first shown, they’re both on a little stage surrounded by masked figures. At first I didn’t realize the significance of the scene, but then I realized; The figures are facing different directions. On Wooyoung’s side the figures face him, while on Mingi’s side they face away from him. This little detail characterizes their fears well; Wooyoung is afraid of people’s stares, while Mingi hates being alone.

Wooyoung’s struggle, as characterized in the Fever diaries, is stage fright. While his screen time doesn’t seem very significant at first, it’s clear he’s afraid. The masked figures are looking at him. He surrounded, trapped on stage a tiny stage and they’re laughing (???) at him. I think people who struggle with stage fright and public speaking would agree that it’s a terrifying predicament. At the end of the MV he manages to break free by performing anyway, even with his fear. And he blows them all away.

Another thing I thought was interesting was the short but intense zoom on his necklace. Shots like this wouldn’t happen unless they were 100% on purpose. (Because it’s weird ToT) In his first Diary, WY says that his fear was like a “chain that was tying my body”. So the chain necklace could represent part of his fear. It’s collaring him in the same way the watches shackled YS and SH for their scenes.

Mingi loved music, but as escapism. He was lonely and used music as a way to hide from how he actually felt. His ‘trauma’. In the beginning, there are a good handful of shots of him standing alone on a stage. Sometimes there are men in black like Wooyoung have, but most of the time they’re either facing away from him, or flickering like they’re not really there. That’s his ‘trauma’; being alone.

His scenes were the hardest for me to analyze out of all the members. Yet they’re what also made me realize that Not Ok is connected to Fever Diaries. This shot of him putting in his earbuds is the reason I was even able to write this analysis. vv

It parallels his scenes in Diary Film so perfectly that it made me go back and reevaluate the whole MV from a Fever perspective.

To be honest, Mingi’s scenes stumped me for quite some time. Like weeks and weeks kinda time. After all that time thinking, I’ve come to the conclusion that the MV is supposed to show him coming to love music more for what it is than for the ability to hide in it. At some point he begins to use music as a way to connect with people as opposed to a way to push them away. (Like how the guys in black join him to dance.) For Mingi music is an unhealthy coping mechanism, but it’s also the path he chose for himself. If used the right way, it can give him strength to keep going and the ability to relate to others. He hasn’t won his inner battle yet, but he’s definitely getting closer.

San is running, (something he seems to be doing every single comeback). I think his running is supposed to be yet another callback to the og Fever Diary Film where he’s being forced to move again, and as he’s going down the escalator he changes his mind and runs back to the warehouse. Back to his friends and dancing. In the MV he’s being held back by two faceless men in a hall full of moving boxes. As the lights flicker the men turn invisible. (More proof that everything in the MV is happening entirely in their minds.) I don’t know who or what the men are supposed to represent, maybe they’re supposed to represent his parents, or maybe they represent his doubts and fears holding him back.

Towards the end he’s being sucked down a tunnel trying desperately to crawl out as something is racing towards him. At first I thought it was just particles, or grains of sand like in the cromer, going to suck him back into his ‘trauma’, but after watching it over and over again I realized; They’re toy trucks. Moving vans. The thing he was originally running from. He’s still trying to run.

Jongho’s is actually the most straightforward, even tho it took me a while to realize. When you see his scenes it’s easy to focus on the screens, because a few of the others have screens too (and they’re strobing so it’s super distracting.) What’s actually important though is what’s on the screens. It all ties back to that original injury in his first Fever Diary. In the og Fever Diary Jongho is depressed because he loves basketball sustained a horrible injury that made him unable to ever play again. In the diary he voices that he’s not just suffering from losing his dream, but also the realization that everyone left him behind.

At the start of the music video they split trauma into mental and physical, and Jongho’s is both. For his scenes he’s lying alone in a bed, in an empty room surrounded by screens. A good sum of loneliness. That’s where what’s on the screens comes in: All the screens are playing videos of people or animals running. Something he can no longer do. He can’t leave, can’t run, and he’s forced to watch other people do what he cannot.

When he starts trying to break away from the screen’s control on his mind, it shows a spider, meant to reflect his situation. He’s caught, stuck in a web, and can’t escape. For him, the breaking of the screens (similar to HJ in drowning the phone) is proof of him trying to break free from his ‘trauma’. In the MV, Jongho never manages to break the screens. He doesn’t escape but he’s trying his best. And the cracks in the screens prove that one day, he will succeed. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

There are some things I noticed in the MV that I didn’t understand, or know where to put. 1) Throughout the whole MV it’s ’snowing’. It could be ash, but it’s in almost every solo scene regardless of whose scene it is. I feel like it’s supposed to be something to show that they're all in the same kind of dream, or perhaps in the same place outside of it. 2) San’s necklace. San is wearing a ring on a his necklace. It could just be a fashion accessory but to me it looks too deliberate to be a purely aesthetic choice.

But I think that’s where I’ll end for now;

In each of the members scenes, they’re fighting themselves. Trying to break out of their own trauma, and gain the freedom to pursue their dreams of their own will. There are some whose internal conflict isn’t resolved, and some who seem to have broken out of said ‘trauma’. Yet all of them are trying, struggling, and helping eachother where they can. Much like real life.

If I made any mistakes or you have anything to add plz feel free to. As always, if you made it this far ily! Thanks for reading 💕

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Ateez Lore Post Directory ✨⚓️🧭🏴‍☠️

Posts I would personally recommend have been flagged 🏴‍☠️ or 💕

Lore Theories —

-Wonderland/Crazy Form 🏴‍☠️💕

-Crescent 1 & 2

-Halazia and Thunder [Outdated]

MV & Trailer Analysis —

- Not Ok MV Analysis 🏴‍☠️ 🌸 \\Favorite Post\\ 🌸

-Ice on my Teeth Trailer’s Secret Words 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Other Theories —

-Halateez Coded The World: Fin Album Analysis

Thoughts & Observations —

-Golden Hour 2 Photoshoot Thoughts 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️ 💕

-Golden Hour Name Thoughts 🏴‍☠️

-Ateez The World: Fin Name Thoughts

-The World: Fin MV Teaser Thoughts [Outdated]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Currently my tag for all lore related posts is #loreteez (At one time I used it exclusively, but since then I've noticed a few others to use it too, so I may add a more personal tag at some point. If I do so I’ll change it.)

Happy theory crafting! (⁠*^v^*⁠)//

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Golden Hour 2 Photoshoot Thoughts

At this point I should rename myself HalaHala or something, because here I am back yet again with another Hala-centric post.

Even so, this one is significantly more relevant than the last few I've made so stick with me on this one:

Today the Golden Hour: Diary Ver pictures came out, and they all look great! Very elegant, very sleek, very demure, and most noticeably of all red and black. In the past I might have immediately jumped to 'Its Halateez!' due to the color scheme, but recently Atz has been using red and black as their regular color scheme. Red and black sets aren't necessarily halateez themed, and red and black clothes don't make them halateez. I know that, yet somehow it still felt like something was off...and then I realized;

It's the seating order.

See in my old post about Wonderland and Crazy Form I compared two group shoots that lined up perfectly, so when I saw them sitting so stiffly and recognized it I figured it was the same. With this idea I began looking through old shoots, I looked through World Fin, Treasure Fin, and even Treasure Epilogue but none of them matched. I couldn't find any pictures where they were sitting in that weird shape. That weird...hourglass shape.

And then I found this;

Now I know that the seating order is different, but aside from that they're in the exact same arrangement. Additionally, this is the only picture I can find where they sit 3/2/3 unlike the majority of their group photos they either sit 3/3/2 like in Wonderland and Crazy Form, or 4/4 like in Treasure Epilogue.

I know that this isn't a lot and it doesn't point to any conclusive ideas, but it is something. Something I'm willing to bet was on purpose, and if it's on purpose then it matters somehow. The question is...How?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feel free to leave your ideas or tell me if I'm totally wrong! This was just the first thing I found when I started digging when it comes to the GH2 pics.

Atiny Fighting!! 💕

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Ateez EP Name Thoughts

It occurred to me the other day, that after all my analysis of the word will as in ‘Will of the people’ I left out one important option;

Will meaning last will and testament.

Will as in the paper people write before they die that explains what to do with their possessions post mortem. Their final wishes.

So with that in mind…lore Ateez is probably screwed. ToT

Additionally I think it’s interesting that this Ep is called Fin. At this point there are three series in ateez’s music (Treasure/Fever/World), but only 2 of them call their final chapters Fin. The Fever series doesn’t have a final episode, only three parts and an epilogue. It makes me wonder if the future series will close their final chapters with Fin or not. Is the word just a way to connect Wonderland and Crazy Form? Or is Fever not having it more significant that we know right now?

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

GOLDEN HOUR ‘S HERE🎉🎉🎉🔥🔥🔥

Y’all it’s fire! Work is a bop, Shaboom and Blind are vibin, and my favorite tracks, Empty box and Siren, both echo with emotion and passion…

But after that MV…. As a lore theorist I’m crying tears of blood ToT

They’re definitely cooking something, but this comeback really told us as little as possible as to what in gods name is happening in the lore.

I do have a theory as to why this cb seems empty of lore, and I’ll probably write it out soon. Yet…at the end of the day though, who knows? Maybe they really are just vibing to vibe this time.

Plz add any ideas or theories you have! Do you think there’s a plan, or that this cb is a break from the deep lore? Cause I really don’t have a clue-

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Ateez MV Teaser Thoughts

The preview starts and ends with the moon, the cromer, and all that important stuff but I’m not feeling big brain enough to deal with that just yet, so I’ll dive right in with Dreamy Day.

First off, seeing them back at the abandoned wearhouse in Universe A gave me so many emotions I thought I wouldn’t have. It’s just so nostalgic. When listening/watching in chronological order that’s always what comes first; the wearhouse. I very much wasn’t expecting it to come up again. Not now.

It (paired with my theory on Crescent 2 and the rest of the MV clips) really got me thinking. Ok, so Dreamy Day is a dream about the wearhouse days. Before their group fell apart, before Halajoong showed up with the cromer, before they lost Yeosang and then got him back, before they witnessed death, before they even entered Universe Z. It really makes sense. If you were lost, and having a hard time, you would dream of when things were good, right?

I ran a few other theories through my head, like maybe it’s Halateez wishing they had a past like that? Or maybe that Feverteez ran away and went back to world A? But it just seems improbable. (At least for Dreamy Day) The teaser is called “The World EP. Fin: Will ‘World A’ Preview” so it’s probably safe to assume it’s about Feverteez not Halateez, and while they could've gone back home at some point, the placement of Crescent 2 and the lyrics of Dreamy Day suggest otherwise. So I’m sticking with that option.

Dreamy Day is Feverteez dreaming of the past. But it’s still just a dream.

The rest of the MV’s could go a completely different direction. Assuming that their unit songs (which I had previously assumed to be lore unrelated) are lore related, there are a handful directions the latter half of the album could go.

1- It could be an anime level flashback explaining their individual pasts, how they met, their emotions, and emphasizing how the past is affecting what they do in Strictland. That would make sense from a story perspective, and a solid chunk of flashback could be justified timeline wise if they’re in a dreamscape.

Going with that theory Matz, iT’s You, and Youth would be about Matz, Woosangsan, and Yungi being/becoming friends. Whereas Everything would be about someone Jongho left behind due to either time travel or depression.

2- It could be them going off and doing their own things. Frankly MATZ, iT’s You, and Youth’s settings still feel fairly dystopian, and Everything’s teaser takes place almost entirely indoors. So it’s possible they’re in Strictland, or perhaps in the future of Universe A.

If they’re still dreaming it would make sense that they’re in different places. It would also explain the more introspective or otherwise nonsensical scenes like this vv

3- It’s more related to Halateez than I originally gave it credit for. Yea it’s “World A” but who says Halateez can’t go to world A? Halajoong did it before, and besides they would’ve had to have traveled there at least once on accident to know how to repeat it.

Actually, I’ve been thinking about that for a while. After learning how to time/universe travel did Halateez ever just drop into other worlds to take a break from their own shitty one? Is that where they learned so much about music and art in a world that outlaws it? On top of that, other than the Real we know almost nothing about Halateez other than that they know how to Time/Universe travel, are fighting the government, and look just like Feverteez.

I only suggest this theory because the setting and characterization in the Youth teaser make me think that it’s Halateez. Yunho is dancing in a room that is reminiscent of his brother’s old room, but at the same time, it’s not that room. The roughness, and desperation really shines through. It reminds me how much those two really had going on in their lives in the lore. Canonically Yunho has lost his brother twice. Like, think about that. Perhaps it’s Feverteez Yungi finally letting loose. Or maybe that whole Fever/Halateez merging into one theory is onto something…

4- It could be Feverteez going home and dealing with their own problems. Learning how things have changed, grieving the past, or perhaps embracing the present.

I mean, what happens if Feverteez really does go home? Everything will be different. They will be different. Even if they return to the same place in the future it will never be the same as it was in the past. Even if Halateez and Feverteez are separate people, their time together will have influenced them. That and the threat of death they faced everyday. Seeing the suffering of others. Feeling their own power and helplessness. Witnessing death. (The Will diaries really held nothing back.)

There’s something beautiful and horrible about coming home a changed person. On one hand, life is good. Home is good. But on the other hand….Somehow coming home after a long time makes you realize all the messed up things about your everyday life you never noticed before. You have a lower tolerance for people’s bullshit when you’ve looked death in the eyes.

At some point in their journey they crossed the point of no return. (*cough* Wonderland *cough*) They will really never be the same people again. There was a point where the people they once were died.

I don’t know unit MV’s will be them going back home, but even still it’s an interesting point to consider…

Do they even have a home? In reality? Outside of their dreamy day?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧//✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Anyway, as always feel free to add your opinions. (*^v^*)b I’m just so excited!!! Like, not only are they feeding us good music & good content, but it’s lore heavy too? Ateez never disappoints fr T^T

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Woah, this is insanely good. And from what I know of all different povs they give us between the diaries and MVs; it's insanely accurate too!

Thanks so much!! Your efforts will not be in vain! This will be very useful to us in the lore community (*^v^*)/❤

A Map of Strictland and the areas around

No one ask me how long this took to make.

[takitakidancetillthesunriseyea]

Since first writing this, I’ve discovered a few more pieces of the Alice in Wonderland puzzle. Thanks to my lovely commenter @cyberkiddie who made me aware of this promotional poster I hadn’t seen before v

-which I immediately was able to connect to the Treasure Ep. Fin: All to Action (aka Wonderland) poster.

Their sitting order is the same, and they’re also wearing masks and uniforms. It’s a parallel of some kind. For one I think it’s interesting how different their masks are. Where the Will poster has easily recognizable Halateez masks, the All to Action poster has masks we’ve never seen anywhere else. They’re shiny and don’t hide the face at all. They’re not serving the same purpose.

Halateez wears masks because they’re being hunted, they’re wanted criminals, outlaws, etc. It’s to protect their identity from the government which most likely has advanced facial recognition technology. However the masks for Wonderland are the exact opposite. They’re flashy and see through, making their faces stand out even more. It makes you want to look harder, to see past the mask to who they really are.

It makes me wonder if the parallels between Crazy Form and Wonderland are supposed to be like that of Halateez and Feverteez. They’re loosely connected, but still… The more I look into it the more I seem to find.

Many of the album photos for Will are in the same poses or with the same people as in All to Action:

I also think it’s interesting that Seonghwa ends both songs in the middle. When I first watched the Crazy Form MV I figured Seonghwa ending in the middle signified something but I didn’t have (and still haven’t got) the slightest idea what that something is.

At first I thought that maybe Seonghwa was acting as the leader in Crazy Form so Hongjoong wasn’t in danger, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. For one, Hongjoong still has his leader armband (in Crazy Form) which would be a call out if he were in hiding and secondly he seems to be acting as the ‘distraction’ for the mission. Which isn’t exactly staying out of harms way.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that they just wanted Seonghwa in the middle….But it’s Ateez. So there’s absolutely no way that it’s a coincidence. He’s even on both thumbnails-

There’s too many possible ideas. Like, what if Seonghwa is the rabbit they follow to Wonderland? He’s always making sure everyone know’s that he’s a rabbit, and he certainly seemed to like Mito their little bunny mascot. But also maybe he just likes rabbits…

AhhhGggGhhg Ateez lore so hard!!!

Well, that’s it for now. As always, if I missed anything else plz feel free to add it. (@^v^@)b

Wonderland and the Rabbit (Theory)

I thought by now my brain would’ve run out of Ateez theories but I was very wrong. Last night I was aimlessly scrolling the internet when I came across all of the rabbit-centric promotional material Ateez used for their latest comeback The World Ep. Fin: Will, that I had somehow missed seeing before their actual comeback.

I also discovered Mito which I had seen before but didn’t realize was also related to the comeback. I guess just I accepted without question that they would carry a little stuffed rabbit around for no reason. (Apparently Mito is short for Michin Tokki or Crazy Rabbit.)

Of course that set the gears in my brain turning. Crazy Form has a few things in common with Wonderland, (mainly the coats) but not enough that I would immediately think they’re connected lore wise.

However, Crazy Form has a lot, and I mean a lot. Of Alice in Wonderland references.

We have Hongjoong doing the Cheshire cat smile.

We got the rabbits everywhere and the little ear motions in the choreography. Personally I think the name “Crazy Form” alone is already pretty in line with the whole Alice in Wonderland “We’re all mad here,” thing. And of course we have whatever these godawful furry things are.

Even Seonghwa’s smile in the MV is rather Mad Hatter-ish

(I also find it interesting that his left eye is covered but that’s a point for a dif theory.)

So. From all that it’s clear they’re trying to make a connection to Alice in Wonderland. But why? What does Alice in Wonderland have to do with their story so much that they’re putting references in everywhere.

At first I assumed it had to do with their alternate universe thing. Is entering the doors to Strictland in the Wonderland MV them ‘going down the rabbit hole’? Is Mito their white rabbit? (Even though it’s black-) Is it just another reference to them being somewhere strange they don’t belong?

As I was thinking of all the things I could remember about Alice in Wonderland, suddenly it hit me. The ending. Alice in Wonderland ends with Alice waking up and realizing it had all been a dream.

(When I realized it I almost lost it)

There have already been a number of people theorizing that the Crazy Form MV is at least partially in a dream due to Hongjoong shooting real bullets out of his finger guns, San flying, etc... Oh yea and the crecent moon at the beginning that seems to instantly change to a full one.

Which just adds it to this list of dream related MV’s like Illusion, Wave, Inception, and Eternal Sunshine. But it really makes me wonder, was the Wonderland MV a dream too? We don’t have diaries for the Treasure series, so pretty much anything goes at this point.

It would make sense if all the weird maze stuff was part of a dream, but feel like the maze is something different entirely… AhhhHHhgh this is all so big brain that I don’t think I’ve even scratched the surface of what’s actually going on.

It does makes me wonder though…just how deep does this rabbit hole (dream) go? How long have they been asleep? And when they wake up, where, when, and who will they be?