Ship/Member: Seungcheol/Mingyu Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: seungcheol's pov, all of yohan's uncertainty packed into seungcheol, being aware of the darkness in you and wishing the other would walk away and yet you still selfishly want them to stay, and perhaps the subsequent shame of that Permission to remix: Yes (if remixes can be remixed lol) a/n: hello! here is the remix i promised! i have gone into this once again with little to no knowledge of the premise of this kdrama, but because of the yohan x gaon vids i watched i can perhaps say i know this a teeny bit better. if i've accidently twisted something or gotten something wrong, i'm so sorry! i've remained pretty loyal to the og fill, mostly bc i can't really build off of this without more knowledge of the drama. i guess this serves more to fill in seungcheol's side more than anything else. but mostly, vee your fill was so stunning that i was like we absolutely need to get seungcheol's pov on here so. here's this. i've no idea how well i did, but enjoy:) (i rlly need to get out of the habit of leaving such long author's notes :'))
***
Seungcheol senses Mingyu lingering outside before the door even announces his arrival. He stiffens his spine, straps on his posture like a piece of armor. The door hinge sounds like wounded betrayal when Mingyu finally works up the nerve to walk in.
Mingyu says something, Seungcheol registers dimly as he whips around, but whatever he said doesn’t get an answer as their eyes lock and Seungcheol feels something in him falter, soften, armor stripped. Mingyu is wide-eyed and full of dismay, words bitten and gutted, like he had to rip out a part of himself to say them.
“I know my face earned me the seat to your left, but I’m not as gullible as you think I am.” Of course you aren’t. You wouldn’t be here if you were. Seungcheol sweeps to his feet, trying to muster up some of his rigidity even in flannel pajamas. He watches Mingyu’s wide eyes as he crosses the space, pushes himself into Mingyu’s close vicinity, and feels the heat radiating from Mingyu’s body. It feels a bit like burning when he grasps Mingyu’s chin and tilts it up; it feels like being set on fire when he leans in close and says, “A well-earned seat. You have -- it is quite a pleasant face” and Mingyu’s breath trembles on its next exit.
Seungcheol can see the words, can almost sense them on the next breath Mingyu takes. But he says nothing, and Seungcheol is feeling more untethered from reality with each passing heartbeat. Is this how he’s going to lose Mingyu?
His hand moves of its own accord, shaken loose by a mechanical jerk of Mingyu’s head. It trails the curve of his neck, slips over the ball of his shoulder and comes to a halt over that songbird tattoo, the meaning behind which Mingyu, for all of his candidness, has never shared. He traces a finger over where he remembers to be the wings idly, wonders if Mingyu dreams of mended wings and breaking chains, of greeting the sun and feeling the wind sprint through his lungs. He wonders if Mingyu dreams of being free of him.
Wordlessly, he guides Mingyu over to lie back gingerly on the couch. He balances himself on the edge and a precipice and tries to tell Mingyu about -- everything in the only way he knows how.
“I will find who did this to you.” It’s a promise he will meet his grave, if he must, to fulfill. He wonders if Mingyu knows that.
Weary eyes meet his. “What are you going to do once you find them?”
“Nothing you would like to know.” It’s nothing Mingyu hasn’t already seen him do. Selfishly, he wishes sparing him the details would guarantee his staying.
Please stay, he begs in his head, even as he fortifies his expression and steels himself into the stoic figure Mingyu has always known.
Mingyu looks up at him like a man spellbound by the sick beauty of death. “Tell me, Chief.”
Relief is viscous, clogging tar in his veins and a ball-chain around his ankle. Seungcheol tells him.
[REMIX] the abyss gazes also into you
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: seungcheol's pov, all of yohan's uncertainty packed into seungcheol, being aware of the darkness in you and wishing the other would walk away and yet you still selfishly want them to stay, and perhaps the subsequent shame of that
Permission to remix: Yes (if remixes can be remixed lol)
a/n: hello! here is the remix i promised! i have gone into this once again with little to no knowledge of the premise of this kdrama, but because of the yohan x gaon vids i watched i can perhaps say i know this a teeny bit better. if i've accidently twisted something or gotten something wrong, i'm so sorry!
i've remained pretty loyal to the og fill, mostly bc i can't really build off of this without more knowledge of the drama. i guess this serves more to fill in seungcheol's side more than anything else. but mostly, vee your fill was so stunning that i was like we absolutely need to get seungcheol's pov on here so. here's this. i've no idea how well i did, but enjoy:)
(i rlly need to get out of the habit of leaving such long author's notes :'))
***
Seungcheol senses Mingyu lingering outside before the door even announces his arrival. He stiffens his spine, straps on his posture like a piece of armor. The door hinge sounds like wounded betrayal when Mingyu finally works up the nerve to walk in.
Mingyu says something, Seungcheol registers dimly as he whips around, but whatever he said doesn’t get an answer as their eyes lock and Seungcheol feels something in him falter, soften, armor stripped. Mingyu is wide-eyed and full of dismay, words bitten and gutted, like he had to rip out a part of himself to say them.
“I know my face earned me the seat to your left, but I’m not as gullible as you think I am.” Of course you aren’t. You wouldn’t be here if you were. Seungcheol sweeps to his feet, trying to muster up some of his rigidity even in flannel pajamas. He watches Mingyu’s wide eyes as he crosses the space, pushes himself into Mingyu’s close vicinity, and feels the heat radiating from Mingyu’s body. It feels a bit like burning when he grasps Mingyu’s chin and tilts it up; it feels like being set on fire when he leans in close and says, “A well-earned seat. You have -- it is quite a pleasant face” and Mingyu’s breath trembles on its next exit.
Seungcheol can see the words, can almost sense them on the next breath Mingyu takes. But he says nothing, and Seungcheol is feeling more untethered from reality with each passing heartbeat. Is this how he’s going to lose Mingyu?
His hand moves of its own accord, shaken loose by a mechanical jerk of Mingyu’s head. It trails the curve of his neck, slips over the ball of his shoulder and comes to a halt over that songbird tattoo, the meaning behind which Mingyu, for all of his candidness, has never shared. He traces a finger over where he remembers to be the wings idly, wonders if Mingyu dreams of mended wings and breaking chains, of greeting the sun and feeling the wind sprint through his lungs. He wonders if Mingyu dreams of being free of him.
Wordlessly, he guides Mingyu over to lie back gingerly on the couch. He balances himself on the edge and a precipice and tries to tell Mingyu about -- everything in the only way he knows how.
“I will find who did this to you.” It’s a promise he will meet his grave, if he must, to fulfill. He wonders if Mingyu knows that.
Weary eyes meet his. “What are you going to do once you find them?”
“Nothing you would like to know.” It’s nothing Mingyu hasn’t already seen him do. Selfishly, he wishes sparing him the details would guarantee his staying.
Please stay, he begs in his head, even as he fortifies his expression and steels himself into the stoic figure Mingyu has always known.
Mingyu looks up at him like a man spellbound by the sick beauty of death. “Tell me, Chief.”
Relief is viscous, clogging tar in his veins and a ball-chain around his ankle. Seungcheol tells him.