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allyallyorange · 4 months

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Back at it with Ateez AT AU

Hongjoong in a band + meeting Seonghwa

Read what @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere wrote cus its fun

Hongjoong blames the enormous box of posters in his hands. It’s big enough to entirely block his view of his own feet, and he can’t even see the raised section of the pavement until it’s too late.

He hits the ground hard, posters spilling out of the box and rolling away. His hands took most of the fall, which is better than his face.

He sits up slowly, hissing at the sight of his own scuffed up palms. He’s thankful it’s just his palms; he definitely needs his fingers for tonight.

His palms will have to wait; he has multiple posters suddenly making a break for freedom.

As Hongjoong staggers to his feet, he has a brief moment of thankfulness for the fact that the venue they’re performing at is located on a quieter street. There aren’t many pedestrians around, meaning less people to potentially step on the posters.

He still breaks into a jog to try and catch some of them before they roll into the street. Not too fast though; rock stars don’t run.

He has to bend down to gather up the posters, and soon has an armful. He is straightening up to bring them back to the box when he realizes there’s someone helping him.

Hongjoong can’t see much of the stranger at the moment, white hair falling into his face as he scoops up several posters. He’s wearing an oversized black and white striped shirt, the demon notices absently, and has a tote bag slung over one shoulder that threatens to fall off as he reaches for another poster.

The stranger stands up fully, allowing Hongjoong to actually get a look at him.

He’s clearly human; Hongjoong could tell that just from his skin tone. Besides that, the demon can only make vague guesses about his age. He seems young-ish, but Hongjoong honestly has no idea. Besides that, he has incredibly round eyes, and an awkward smile.

“Do you have somewhere to put these?” the stranger asks, lifting his armful of posters slightly.

“Uh, yeah,” Hongjoong answers.

He immediately turns on his heel, heading back to the box that he left on the ground beside the merch stand. He drops his bunch of posters into the box, suddenly very self conscious about everything he is doing.

The stranger has followed him, and proceeds to kneel down beside the box to put his armful of posters away, making sure they’re neatly in place.

Hongjoong stands there watching him for a second before he realizes he’s being weird. He heads back out to gather up the last few posters, returning to hand them to the very detail-oriented stranger.

“There we go,” he finally says once the last roll is put away. “All done.”

He stands up then, and Hongjoong realizes very quickly that he is several inches taller than him, despite his boots. He knew he should have gone with the three-inch heel.

“I’m Seonghwa, by the way,” the stranger says with another smile.

He sticks his hand out, and Hongjoong tries to take it in a cool and nonchalant manner.

“I’m Hongjoong,” Hongjoong answers.

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says easily. “I like your outfit.”

Hongjoong can’t resist grinning at the compliment. He likes his outfit too, and may be wearing it hours before he needs to because he likes it that much.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like your hair.”

Seonghwa laughs slightly at that and thanks him, reaching up to comb his hair back with one hand.

“So, what is all the paper for?” he asks, gesturing to the box on the ground between them.

“They’re posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I’m setting up the merch stand.”

He steps slightly to the side so Seonghwa can see the table and booth behind him, already half-covered in t-shirts.

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, eyes widening. “The Demon Prince? Is that the name of a show?”

“A band,” Hongjoong corrects. “My band, actually.”

“Really?” Seonghwa’s whole face lights up in excitement. “You’re the front man?”

Hongjoong nods proudly, maybe sticking out his chest a little more.

“What kind of music do you play?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head as he waits for Hongjoong’s answer.

“Rock,” Hongjoong answers easily. “Sometimes I switch it up a little, but I’m keeping in a more hardcore punk vein right now.”

Seonghwa makes suitably impressed noises, and Hongjoong congratulates himself mentally for doing so well at this. This is easy!

“Rock can be a really nebulous term,” he continues. “I don’t really care for some of the more laid back stuff that people call ‘rock’. Things like that misrepresent the genre and are just bad press in a lot of ways.”

Hongjoong can feel himself loosening up as he talks; he knows about this kind of stuff and is very comfortable talking about it. He widens his stance slightly, leaning against the booth wall behind him and incorporating a few hand gestures.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Seonghwa interjects after a few moments. “But you hurt your hands.”

Hongjoong had honestly forgotten about his scraped-up palms. He flips his hands over, noting the way some of the deeper scratches are now oozing blood.

“Oh yeah,” he says casually. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Seonghwa tells him. He has stepped closer, and now reaches out to take one of Hongjoong’s hands, his touch gentle.

The demon immediately freezes, incredibly aware of how small his hands look next to Seonghwa’s much bigger ones.

“You should really wash them off,” Seonghwa is saying, bending over slightly to get a better look. “You don’t want anything to get infected.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” Hongjoong answers. “There’s a sink inside and stuff.”

He may have seen one briefly. He honestly isn’t sure.

For a split second he’s sure Seonghwa is going to haul him to the possibly-imaginary sink right then and there. The human doesn’t, instead letting go of Hongjoong’s hand to dig in his tote bag briefly.

“I thought I had some,” he mutters, pulling the bag halfway off his shoulder to look inside better. “Oh, here they are!”

He triumphantly holds up a small plastic container decorated with cartoon animals. Hongjoong blinks at it for a second.

“What is it?” he asks flatly.

“They’re bandaids,” Seonghwa tells him, opening the container. “You’re going to need something if you have to play tonight.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “I guess you’re right.”

Seonghwa gives him another smile, as well as a small handful of bandaids.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong tells him, slipping them into his pocket.

“Of course,” Seonghwa replies. “I’m glad I carry them.”

Hongjoong watches as he puts the container back in his bag, then adjusts the strap so it hangs comfortably again.

“Hey,” Hongjoong says abruptly, getting Seonghwa’s attention again. “Do you want to come to the show?”

“Me?” Seonghwa asks, blinking a few times.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. He doesn’t know who else the human thinks he could be talking to. “It starts at 8 tonight, right here.”

He pauses for a second.

“Well, not right here,” he quickly amends. “But at this venue.”

“I knew what you meant,” Seonghwa assures him. “And while I would love to, I can’t. I have a kid at home, and he doesn’t like crowds at all.”

Hongjoong nods slowly, thinking quickly over everything he knows about human children. It’s really not much, but he does know it’s probably not a good idea to leave babies alone at home for a long time.

“That’s cool,” he replies, hoping this comes across as a nonchalant and normal response.

Seonghwa clearly takes this to mean that Hongjoong thinks children as a whole are cool and that he definitely wants to hear more about them, his whole expression immediately brightening.

“He’s a really sweet kid,” the human says, digging in his bag again. “Here’s a picture of him when he was little.”

He holds out a small, well-loved picture, the edges tattered and almost soft. Hongjoong leans forward slightly, squinting at the miniature human who is in turn squinting at the camera in the picture. The demon can’t really make out much of their face, but he supposes they’re rather cute.

“Nice,” he says vaguely, leaning back.

“He’s a lot bigger now,” Seonghwa says, flipping the picture back around to look at it for a moment. “I think I have another picture somewhere-”

“I’m good,” Hongjoong hurriedly says. “I don’t really like kids.”

“Ahh,” Seonghwa replies, carefully putting the picture back in his bag.

The conversation kind of dies there, with the two of them just awkwardly looking at each other, the box of posters, then each other again.

“Do you want a poster?” Hongjoong finally says, desperate to break the silence somehow. “Since you can’t come and did help me pick all of them up.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, looking down at the rolled up posters. “I didn’t realize they were posters.”

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, bending down to pick one up quickly.

“Here,” he says roughly.

Seonghwa takes it with a smile, thanking Hongjoong.

“I’ll have to hang it up,” he says. “It’s not every day I meet a real rockstar.”

Hongjoong does his best to push down the immediate rush of glee that comes from the human’s words. He should definitely be totally normal about being called a rockstar; he is one, after all.

“Hah, yeah,” he answers. “And I bet you don’t give other rockstars bandaids either.”

Seonghwa laughs, but the demon is immediately kicking himself mentally for saying something so dumb.

“No, you’re definitely right,” Seonghwa agrees. “I’ll certainly enjoy knowing you’ll be performing with gecko bandaids. Not every rockstar can pull that off, but I think you can.”

Hongjoong can’t stop himself from flushing at the compliment, and he does his best to brush it off as well as he can.

“Yeah, well,” he ends up saying. “A sense of style comes with the territory.”

Seonghwa laughs again at that, and Hongjoong notices distantly that he looks really nice smiling like that. The thought is strange, and he shakes his head slightly to clear it.

“So are you going to set these out?” Seonghwa asks, waggling the poster now cradled carefully in his hands.

“That’s the plan,” Hongjoong tells him. He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the table. “I should get some of my bandmates to help.”

“I could,” Seonghwa offers quickly, looking a little surprised by his own suggestion. “If you’re ok with it, that is.”

“Uh, sure,” Hongjoong says, running a hand through his hair. “If you want to.”

Seonghwa immediately nods, gaze flicking between Hongjoong’s face and the table behind him.

“I like organizing things,” he says in explanation. “And I’ve organized everything at home already.”

“Well, do you want to do the t-shirts?” Hongjoong asks. He steps around to the other side of the table, with Seonghwa doing the same but on the front end.

“How do you want them?” the human immediately asks, eyes practically sparkling.

“I mean, they’re all the same,” Hongjoong tells him. “I was just going to set them in piles.”

“They come in different sizes, though,” Seonghwa points out, picking up the closest shirt. “This one is a small; you wouldn’t want it in with the larges.”

Sizing hadn’t occurred to Hongjoong at all. He quickly tries to come up with a cool way to downplay this flaw in his thinking.

“Do whatever you want,” he finally says, waving one hand.

He probably should have kept the hand gestures to a minimum. The movement agitated his scuffed-up palms, and Seonghwa notices his slight grimace of discomfort.

“You should go wash your hands off now,” he says, dragging the closest stack of t-shirts forward on the table. “I can watch things here.”

Hongjoong is opening his mouth to say that it really doesn’t hurt when Seonghwa fixes him with a stern look.

“Go wash them,” he says firmly. “You’ll get blood all over things if you don’t.”

Something in his voice has Hongjoong automatically turning before he can even fully register what he’s doing, heading for the door that he left propped open.

About halfway down the hallway inside, he begins to feel a little stupid. But he does need to wash his hands, and Seonghwa made a good point about getting blood on the merch.

He spends most of the time washing his hands wondering if he could charge extra for bloodstained t-shirts and posters.

By the time he emerges from the building, Seonghwa has unboxed every t-shirt they have and laid them all neatly out in orderly stacks. He has moved on to organizing the posters, and looks up when Hongjoong steps closer to the table.

“Did you wash your hands?” he asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Hongjoong finds himself holding out his hands for Seonghwa to inspect, feeling curiously like a little kid again.

“Good job,” Seonghwa tells him. “Do you want help putting on the bandaids?”

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong replies gruffly, already reaching into his pocket for the bandaids.

Seonghwa watches him for a long moment, but doesn’t say anything. Hongjoong focuses on the bandaids in his hands, having to figure out how to open them first.

He is surprised to learn that Seonghwa wasn’t joking about the bandaids. The first one he opens is covered in bright orange lizards, presumably geckos.

No one will see his palms anyways, he quickly decides. And if he really ends up hating them, he can just take them off once Seonghwa leaves.

Hongjoong puts the bandaids on as well as he can, frustrated at how inexpertly placed most of them are. It’s hard to put them on yourself, and he may regret refusing Seonghwa’s help. However, he does have a reputation to uphold, and so he struggles through the whole handful.

When his scrapes are covered by various colorful geckos, he stuffs the bandaid scraps into his pocket.

“Could you look over the t-shirts?” Seonghwa asks, nodding at that half of the table. “I want to make sure you like how I did it.”

Hongjoong steps closer to the table, slowing down to really look at the neat stacks of t-shirts. They are incredibly exact; the demon wonders absently if Seonghwa has a ruler somewhere in his bag. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Looks good,” he says, glancing over at the human. “Very precise.”

Seonghwa flushes slightly at that, grinning. Hongjoong can feel his own cheeks heating up as well.

“Thanks,” Seonghwa replies. “Is there anything else, or just the posters?”

“Just the posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I couldn’t line up any more merch unfortunately.”

“What else would you have liked to do?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the neat rolls of posters in front of him.

Hongjoong relaxes now that he is back in familiar territory. He easily launches into his plans for future merchandise, which include everything from hoodies to hats to shoes. Seonghwa makes all the right noises at the right times, occasionally asking questions to show that he is still listening.

They talk like that for quite a while, long enough that Hongjoong loses track of time. He is only reminded of how late it’s getting when he realizes that the light has definitely changed to that distinctive late afternoon color.

Unfortunately Seonghwa notices right at the same time.

“It’s getting late,” he says with a bit of worry in his voice. “I should be getting back to Yeosang. He’s probably worried.”

Hongjoong blinks at him, entirely unsure of who Yeosang is.

Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice, too busy looking over the merch table one last time as if he’s making sure nothing has moved.

“Thanks for letting me organize things,” he says with a smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

“No problem,” Hongjoong tells him. “I wasn’t going to stop you.”

Seonghwa laughs at that, taking a half step back from the table.

“Wait,” Hongjoong calls out before he can walk any further away. “Don’t forget your poster.”

Seonghwa’s eyes immediately widen, and he retraces his few steps to take a rolled-up poster from Hongjoong’s hands.

“Thanks for catching that,” he says with a relieved laugh. “I would have been so mad at myself if I’d forgotten.”

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, watching as Seonghwa carefully puts the poster in his bag, making sure it won’t get hurt.

“You should come to our next show,” he blurts out. “Because you can’t make it to this one.”

“I would like to,” Seonghwa tells him. “I really want to see what you’re like on stage.”

Hongjoong distantly manages to form a coherent reply to that, doing his best to keep from jumping up and down from excitement.

After his reply, the conversation kind of falls flat again. Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa’s gaze drops to the table again, one hand coming up to adjust his bag’s strap absently.

“Well I really should be going,” he finally says, making eye contact with Hongjoong. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Hongjoong says awkwardly. “Thanks for helping with all of this.”

He waves a hand vaguely, encompassing the table and everything on it.

“You’re welcome,” Seonghwa says with a smile. “Like I said, it’s not every day I get to meet a real life rockstar.”

Hongjoong chuckles at that, trying to seem cool again as he raises a hand to run through his hair.

“It’s not every day I meet someone who carries gecko bandaids,” he points out, earning a genuine laugh and smile from Seonghwa.

“Very true,” the human admits. “I guess we both had crazy experiences today.”

They exchange mildly awkward goodbyes, and even more awkward waves when Seonghwa turns around halfway to the street and finds Hongjoong still watching him.

In Hongjoong’s defense, he can’t just leave the whole merch table set up and unattended. That would be poor business practice.

And maybe he just wanted to watch Seonghwa head off, poster sticking out of his tote bag.

#doodle doo #ateez #ateez at au #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa

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allyallyorange · 10 days

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Yunho The Human

AT AU is back with another little story written by @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere

How Yunho ends up in Universe A

Master Post for AT AU

“You should spend more time with Jongho,” his mom says. “Take him somewhere on your day off, like you used to.”

Yunho almost snorted at that, but manages to hold it back. It was too early in the day for another fight with his parents, especially after the previous night.

It had started the same way it always did, with his dad making some off handed comment about what Yunho should be doing with his life but clearly wasn’t.

He hadn’t even tried to hold back the biting response then, and things quickly devolved.

It had made him want to scream because they acted like he should just get over himself and move on with his life, like that was something easy or possible to do.

Yunho didn’t know how to explain to them the way his chest ached all the time, or how hard it was to get out of bed every morning. He knows they would say he should be moving on, especially after so many years.

After all, Jongho was fine. Jongho, who lost his parents. Yunho should be fine; he only lost his best friend, after all. Jongho is more than fine; he seems to be the next Albert Einstein at the age of twelve. He’s bright and smart and good at studying; in other words, everything Yunho isn’t.

It hurts more than Yunho will admit to be surpassed in every single category by a twelve year-old.

“You guys used to be so close,” his mom continues. She is washing dishes at the sink, with her back to Yunho. “He’s been through a lot, you know. It would be a shame if the two of you grew apart now.”

Yunho resists the urge to inform her that he’s been through a lot too, and maybe doesn’t want to spend time with the tiny little prodigy who is better than him in every way, including dealing with grief.

When he doesn’t respond, his mother eventually turns around to look at him.

“Did you hear me, Yunho?”

“Yeah,” Yunho mumbles, dragging his spoon through his cereal. “I heard.”

It’s already going soggy, and Yunho almost feels sorry for the limp bits of cereal floating around. He feels like that most of the time these days.

“You really should take him somewhere,” his mom says in that vaguely hopeful tone that Yunho has come to dread. “Get hot chocolate with him or something. Something fun, to get you both out of the house.”

“Fine,” Yunho is answering before he even realizes what he’s saying. “I’ll ask him.”

The smile his mom gives him just makes him feel worse. She looks so hopeful, like this will actually be the thing that gets Yunho’s life back on track.

He doesn’t bother to correct her. He’ll disappoint her soon enough.

Of all places, Jongho wants to go to the library.

Yunho just gapes at his cousin, finally asking what on earth he wants to do at the library.

Jongho rattles off some answer that goes straight over Yunho’s head. The kid is probably researching advanced particle physics for fun, or something similarly nerdy and genius.

“Fine,” Yunho sighs. “Let’s go.”

You could have cut the tension in the car with a knife. Yunho finally turns the radio up, desperate to listen to something other than the constant parade of guilt and self-criticism that makes up his thoughts.

Jongho didn’t say anything, just fidgeting with his gloves in the passenger seat.

He practically bolts out of the car the second Yunho puts it in park, disappearing through the library doors before he can even get fully out of his seat.

Figures. Yunho wouldn’t want to hang out with himself either.

He trails after Jongho, making a vain attempt to stomp some of the melting snow off his shoes before stepping into the library.

Yunho hasn’t been here in ages, and he takes a deep breath on instinct. The smell of books is comforting, and he takes a moment to just soak it in.

Everything is smaller than he remembers, but he’s definitely had several growth spurts since he was last here. The kid sized reading tables look ridiculously small, and Yunho can’t believe he ever fit in the seats.

He would come here with Mingi, mostly during the summer when they were bored. They would sit for hours and read every comic book the library had, until the words spun off the page or they fell asleep.

Yunho shakes his head violently, trying to dislodge the memories. This is why he doesn’t leave the house; they would roam all over town. He can’t go anywhere without being reminded of him.

It takes him way too long to find Jongho. The kid is sitting at one of the tables in the reference section, almost invisible behind a stack of at least five hefty books. Yunho quickly gives up on reading the title of the one in Jongho’s hands when he doesn’t even know what the first word means.

He flops down across the table from Jongho, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He is just opening one of his mobile games when a pointed ‘ahem’ gets his attention.

Jongho is glaring at him from across the table, face scrunched comically.

“What?” Yunho asks, earning a furious hiss from his cousin.

“We’re in the library,” Jongho whispers pointedly. “Talk quietly.”

“My bad,” Yunho mutters, glancing back down at his phone.

“This is a library,” Jongho repeats in a biting whisper. “Find a book to read.”

Yunho blinks at him for a long moment, weighing out the amount of energy it would take to actually fight him on this.

You’re supposed to be bonding with him, his mom's voice whispers in his head. Fighting would definitely not do that.

“Fine,” he grits out. “I’ll get a book.”

He stands up, pushing his chair away from the table with exaggerated care. Jongho watches him seriously, only looking back down at his book when Yunho actually begins to look at the nearby shelves.

Nothing in this section is remotely interesting, and Yunho wanders aimlessly in search of something decent. He almost doesn’t stop when he passes an end display of fairy tales, but something about the bright covers has his feet slowing almost on his own.

He knows he’s too old for fairy tales at this point. He knows better than most that happy endings are pure fiction; the real world is much worse.

The book at the top of the display looks different from the rest, and he picks it up on whim. Flipping it open, he expects bright pictures and ornate pages, all accompanying a predictably bland story about princes and princesses and happily ever afters.

It quickly becomes apparent that the book in his hands is anything but that. It doesn’t even look like it’s a fairy tale, really. It seems more like a guide to being a hero, and Yunho finds himself reading more and more while just standing there.

He knows it’s dumb, and that he should find some actually helpful book probably called something like “How To Fix Your Life For Dummies.” But deep down, he knows he just wants to think about something other than his shitty life. Some weird book that takes itself way too seriously may be a cheap bit of escapism, but Jongho clearly won’t let him burn a couple of hours on his phone.

Tucking the book under his arm, Yunho returns to where he left Jongho. The kid hasn’t moved, but has switched books. There’s no way he read it that fast, but Yunho honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Doing his best to ignore his cousin, Yunho sits back down and opens up the book again. It’s not a difficult book to read, and he is soon comfortably lost in a vaguely nonsensical chapter about how to kiss a princess.

The book is simple, but it’s just enough to keep him from thinking about anything else. It’s honestly nice to sit here and escape for a while, and before long he’s more than halfway through. He has to skip some sections that seem to be written in entirely different languages, as well as a few that are just covered in symbols and diagrams that don’t make any sense.

Yunho is just about to turn the page when he realizes the pages of the book look like they’re sparking, somehow. He pauses, watching as what look like little white sparks jump off the page, bouncing harmlessly off his clothes and the table.

He is just beginning to open his mouth to ask Jongho if he’s losing his mind when the sparks begin to pour off the book, increasing in brightness.

Yunho had been leaning the book against the edge of the table, and he quickly pushes it fully on the table. That doesn’t stop the sparks, and as he watches they begin to flow upwards until there’s a whole bunch of them floating a few inches over the book.

This is it, Yunho thinks distantly. It’s the mental break you were waiting for. He’s finally going crazy; it took years but he’s made it.

The sparks have solidified into a mass of light, hovering over the book. The light stretches as Yunho stares, widening and flattening until it’s as large as a decently sized tv. Some part of his brain wonders if anyone else is seeing this or if it’s just him.

The light has been white up until now, but the center of the mass begins to darken. The effect reminds Yunho of pouring water on ice, how it will make some parts of the ice transparent and more glass-like.

He leans forward, trying to get a better look. The darkness has now spread to cover most of the mass, leaving only a rim of light around the edges. It reminds Yunho of every portal he’s ever seen in superhero movies and comic books.

He almost falls out of his chair when he realizes there’s a person looking back at him from the other side. Their features aren’t clear, still obscured by the surface of the portal.

Yunho watches in horrified fascination as a hand reaches through the portal, the surface dragging for a moment before breaking around their fingers. The hand grabs the edge of the portal like it’s solid and Yunho stares because normal people don’t have blue skin.

He looks up just in time to see the person’s other hand pulling the surface aside enough for their head to poke through, dragging it out of the way.

The person looks to be a guy, around Yunho’s age. He looks pretty normal, with dark hair and sharp eyes that survey the library quickly.

You would almost think he’s human if it wasn’t for the bright blue skin and pointy ears clearly on display because of his haircut.

Yunho is tempted to look around to check if anyone else is seeing this alien portal with a real life alien reaching out of it, but he doesn't. He’s sure that if he as much as blinks this will all disappear.

“Have you seen a guy with white hair?” the alien asks, looking at Yunho. “He’s just a bit taller than me, and pretty skinny?”

Yunho gapes at him for a long moment, trying to remember how to speak.

“U-um, no,” he finally stammers.

The alien’s face tugs into a frown at that, and he lets out a slight sigh.

“Fair enough,” he admits, beginning to pull away from the portal. The second he does, it begins to close, the dark part fading first.

“Hey wait,” Yunho calls out, reaching for the portal without thinking about it.

He jolts the second he touches it, feeling like he was just shocked. He is opening his mouth to say ouch or yell or ask what on earth is going on but he quickly finds he can’t. The feeling of vertigo rushes up to catch him, and Yunho feels like he’s being yanked forward through the portal.

He lands hard on his ass, voice coming back in the middle of a yell. He quickly stops yelling, way too surprised for that.

The blue guy from before is standing in front of him, looking just as surprised and confused as Yunho feels. They seem to be in some kind of room, but everything from the walls to the floor are perfectly black. It’s unsettling, making him feel like he’s standing in an open void somehow.

“Where the hell are we?” Yunho asks. “What is going on? Who are you?”

The guy just stares at him, eyes wide as they dart around Yunho’s face quickly.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

The sound of a third voice startles both of them, and Yunho scrambles to his feet as the blue guy whips around.

He almost falls again because there is what could only be described as a column of light in front of him. He squints at it, belatedly realizing that it’s not column-shaped at all. It has a head and arms, and clearly a voice.

Yunho could have sworn he didn’t have that much to drink last night. This has to be a dream, a hallucination, something. He’s been watching too many dumb superhero movies lately and his subconscious is finally deciding to take revenge.

“U-um, sort of?” the blue guy stammers. “I mean, I found him but that’s not what I was looking for.”

He sounds just as confused as Yunho knows he looks, but he’s thankful the weird light person isn’t talking to him. The blue guy is weird, but he at least has a face.

“That’s great,” the light person says easily. “I hope you succeed in your journey.”

They raise a hand, and Yunho feels that same sense of vertigo rising up to meet him. This time it feels like he’s falling backwards, the whole sensation churning his stomach violently.

At least he lands on his feet this time.

The room around him thankfully looks relatively normal after the freaky void place, worn wood under his feet and making up the walls.

He looks around slowly, trying to figure out what exactly happened.

He seems to be in a treehouse of some kind, various branches crisscrossing through the walls and floor. The whole place is fairly small, but it may just look that way because it’s absolutely full of stuff.

Yunho gapes at the eclectic assortment of weapons, tech, and unidentifiable objects scattered across the floor and various surfaces of the room. None of this makes any sense, and he only ends up with more questions when his gaze lands on the two other people in the room with him.

One of them is the alien guy from before, looking just as blue. He is staring at a normal looking guy, who is in turn staring at Yunho.

They stare at each other for a long moment before everyone starts talking at the same time.

“Is this him?” the normal guy asks, clearly talking to the blue alien dude.

“No, I have no idea who this is,” the blue guy responds.

It’s a little tricky to actually make out what he’s saying because Yunho is also talking.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands. “Who are you guys? What is this place?”

They all continue to talk over each other for several minutes before the normal looking guy holds up both hands.

“Stop,” he says loudly. “We can’t all talk at once.”

Yunho shuts his mouth reluctantly, knowing that he does make a good point.

The guy turns to face him more fully, giving Yunho a chance to get a better look at him. He certainly looks normal, with dark hair. He does have blond undersides, peaking through the upper half of his hair

He also has a plant growing out of the top of his head. It’s a perfectly normal plant, with leaves and everything. Yunho gapes at it, not quite able to believe his eyes.

“You ended up in our headquarters, so you’re going to answer our questions,” the guy continues briskly. “Sit down.”

“Um, where?” Yunho asks, glancing around the crammed treehouse.

The blue alien dude moves forward to shove a few weapons and piles of metal parts off a surface, eventually revealing a couch under all the stuff. He gestures to it, and Yunho obediently sinks down.

“Right,” the normal guy says, putting his hands on his hips. “Have you ever seen this guy?”

He bends down to pick up a rolled up piece of paper, unrolling it so Yunho can see.

The paper has a drawing of someone on it, but Yunho can’t make out anything actually identifiable. The drawing looks like it was done by a two year old, and not an artistically inclined two year old.

“...no,” Yunho says slowly. “No I haven't.”

“Are you sure?” the guy asks again. “He has white hair? Seems pretty powerful?”

“Nope,” Yunho repeats, shaking his head.

“Think he’s lying?” the guy asks, turning to look at the blue alien.

He just shrugs, looking as confused as Yunho feels.

“You know I can hear you,” Yunho points out, not particularly liking being talked about like he’s not in the room.

“Hush,” the guy tells him. “We’re the ones interrogating you.”

Yunho doesn’t point out that this is the most informal interrogation he’s ever seen. He’s sitting on their couch, for crying out loud. There’s nothing to keep him here, and Yunho really doubts either of them could actually restrain him if necessary. The blue guy is pretty muscular, but Yunho has at least four inches on him.

The other two continue to talk, at least having the decency to lower their voices so Yunho can’t hear them as easily.

“Ok fine,” the normal guy finally says. “If you’re sure.”

The blue alien nods, turning back to face Yunho.

“Hi,” he says with a smile that makes his eyes disappear. “We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot. My name is San.”

Yunho blinks at him, definitely not expecting a formal introduction.

“Hey,” he says after a moment. “I’m Yunho.”

“Nice to meet you, Yunho,” San tells him.

He pauses for a moment, clearly waiting for the other guy to say something. When he doesn’t, San elbows him in the side.

“Oh right,” he says quickly. “I’m Wooyoung.”

Yunho nods, murmuring some kind of acknowledgement.

“Where are we?” he asks, gesturing vaguely around the room.

Wooyoung and San look at each other for a long moment, clearly having some kind of nonverbal discussion.

“Probably better to just show him,” San says.

Wooyoung nods, making the plant on his head sway slightly.

“C’mon then,” he says, beckoning Yunho.

Yunho gets up off the couch, following a little ways behind as San and Wooyoung cross the cluttered floor, heading for what appears to be a trapdoor set in the floor.

Wooyoung tugs it open, revealing a ladder leading down to the ground.

Yunho doesn’t see how showing him the outside of their treehouse will answer his question at all, but he doesn’t point that out. He eyes the ladder nervously, but it seems to hold Wooyoung’s weight easily as he practically slides down the rungs.

He follows a bit slower, thankful that San waits until he’s almost at the bottom before stepping down too.

Wooyoung is waiting at the base of the ladder, and he meets Yunho’s eyes.

Instead of saying anything, he just gestures to the landscape around them.

Yunho is opening his mouth to ask a question, but finds that he can’t think of any. The tree the treehouse is in seems to be the only thing for miles, standing tall on the top of a slight hill. The land is gently rolling, fields of grass extending for what feels like forever.

A distant mountain range completes the feeling of stepping into a painting, smudges of snow decorating the peaks. Yunho gapes at the scene, awed to some extent by the natural beauty, but much more dumbfounded by the lack of anything modern.

There’s nothing; no telephone poles, no roads, no cars. There aren’t even any buildings that look remotely normal. Yunho is definitely excluding what might be a village off in the distance; he is very sure none of it will look like it’s supposed to.

This isn’t home, he thinks distantly. It can’t be; he’s very sure there isn’t anywhere on the planet this remote and untouched.

That’s not even considering Wooyoung, who has a plant growing out of his head, and San, who is blue.

“Where is this?” he asks slowly, turning to look at Wooyoung.

He grins proudly, puffing out his chest a bit.

“You’re in our world,” he says with a grin. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

#doodle doo #ateez #ateez at au #jeong yunho #yunho #choi san #choi jongho #jongho #san ateez #ateez san #thank you Nnn for writing this! I love it sm

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