#sk fantasy au

[the-writing-mobster]

| The Most Dangerous Game | Final! Frisk x SK! Sans | Straight Jacket scenario — full NSFW version on TWITTER | 💙 🔪 💔 |

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“Such a stupid, impulsive man... I can't wait to watch you die.”

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

SK sun works at a library, so does he like to read sometimes? what's his favourite genre to read?

He does pick up a book every now and then, even if he has all of them stored in his files.

He leans towards fantasy being his favorite genre. It's also the most common genre he reads to the kiddos

[seungkw1]

one last chance — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, smut [18+ MDNI] ♡ wc: 4.3k ♡ warnings: drinking, size kink, masturbation (m.), oral (m. & f. receiving), head pushing, face sitting (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (don’t do this), reader is down bad, sk is also down bad, quite a bit of whimpering from both parties oop ♡ a/n: back from my hiatus!! hope u guys enjoy this one <3

You’ve accepted that you’re never going to see your college crush again after graduation - but an unexpected invitation to a pool party might just change everything.

Boo Seungkwan is many things: charming, witty, intelligent, athletic, and incredibly good-looking. There’s not one particular thing that stands out when you think about how in love you are with him - he is simply the most attractive person you’ve ever met.

You first met him freshman year of college, at a house party just before the school year started, when you drunkenly kissed him. To be fair, you kissed a few people that night, but you don't remember the others - only the cute guy on the volleyball team made a lasting impression. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you distinctly remember him being a very good kisser. 

You had a few classes together over the years. You quickly developed a habit of sitting at the very front of the classroom - if you sat anywhere you could see him, you would simply get lost in a daydream. And you really didn't want to fail your classes over some silly fantasies. 

But at a certain point, you accepted that the fantasies were, in fact, quite serious. You wouldn't consider Boo Seungkwan to be a friend, per se - but your social circles overlapped just enough to keep him on the perimeter of acquaintanceship. Though seemingly one-sided, you came to know him well, as if he was a longtime companion rather than a friend of a friend at best. You tried telling yourself that he just had that effect on people, being so gregarious and outgoing that everyone loved him by default. Which was true to a degree. But something about him - rather, everything about him simply captivated you

And that was enough for you to fall in love. 

You always felt a little insane about it. How could you be so in love with someone without having talked to them more than a handful of times in your life? You dated around here and there, a couple relationships serious, most not. But Boo Seungkwan was always in the back of your mind. Try as you might, you simply could not get over him.

Four years came and went. The ups and downs of college life are nearly behind you now. Everyone is about to get a big adult job, perhaps move cities, enter the real world. Aside from your closest friends, you probably will never see most of these people ever again outside of social media. They’ll walk the stage, and then walk out of your life for good. 

And so, disheartened, you accept that your chances with Boo Seungkwan will once and for all become zero. But purely by luck, the next day on your coffee run you bump into a friend of a friend who invites you to a pool party on the weekend. It’s a graduation party out in the suburbs, at a huge house owned by the parents of a well-known, popular student who happens to be in the same fraternity as Seungkwan. Normally, you would've declined - you've always found pool parties a bit awkward, especially when you likely wouldn't know many people there. But there was a pretty damn good chance that Seungkwan would be there - and you would be remiss if you didn't take one last chance to at least talk to him. So with cautious optimism, you agreed to go. 

You spend the next couple days before the party massively overthinking what you're going to wear. After much deliberation you land on a bright blue swimsuit with an oversized sheer coverup on top. Good enough, anyway. 

You intentionally arrive to the party fashionably late - no need to get there too early and get roped into small talk with people you hardly know. Fortunately, you spot your roommate from sophomore year - you're not close, but you still consider them a good friend. They wave you over and you join the group; the conversation is fine, but eventually a few of them get deep into a discussion on some indie film you've never seen. You zone out, eyes wandering around the party scene. Not many people are in the pool - still too early, apparently; one frat guy you vaguely recognize is busy at the grill making slightly-burnt hot dogs, but the rest haven't seemed to arrive yet. As if summoned by your thoughts, a group of guys enters the backyard, hooting and hollering with several giant cases of beer in tow. The party attendees cheer at the sight of alcohol. 

Then, a few moments after the arriving party has entered, you see him. 

Like a goddamn scene from a movie, Seungkwan walks through the gate - his warm brown hair flowing gently in the breeze, his skin shining in the golden hour sun. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and simple navy swim shorts, but somehow still looks ethereal. 

Someone in the group you've been chatting with waves him over. 

“Heyyyyy, now the party’s here!” the guy shouts at him. Seungkwan waves back to him, his eyes scanning the group, when he makes eye contact with you. After a few seconds you realize you've been holding your breath. You exhale. 

Relax, you tell yourself. He probably doesn't even remember you. 

Seungkwan joins your group. The frat bro who waved him over hands him a beer. He opens it and chugs a bit, the can looking particularly small in his large hands. You try to be normal and not just stare at him hopelessly, but it's easier said than done. 

A few minutes pass. Some of his fellow volleyball players were amidst the group, so they started talking about the sport. You’ve only been to a few volleyball games in your life (all of them being college games that you attended with the idea of watching Seungkwan in shorts in mind), so you do your best to follow along with the conversation, but it's not going too well for you. So you mostly just remain silent. 

After a while, you start thinking of excuses to get you out of this conversation. Not that you don't want to be around him anymore - but you're feeling too awkward for your liking at this point. You decide that you can probably just slip away without anyone noticing, so you turn to leave. 

“Hey y/n! Want a beer?”

You freeze in your tracks. Turning back around, you see Seungkwan in front of you, extending a Bud Light to you. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, smiling to conceal your nerves. “Thanks!”

“Of course,” he says with a soft grin. “So,” he continues, “I heard you were-”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. 

Three of his fellow frat bros emerged out of thin air, cheering and shouting, grabbing Seungkwan and hauling him away. With a big SPLASH they throw him into the pool. 

As he surfaces he begins yelling at his friends. 

“What the hell!!!”

They all laugh at him - he pretends to be mad, but he can't help but laugh along with them. 

“Help me out, dipshit,” he says to the nearest friend. The guy reaches down to help him out of the pool, but Seungkwan pulls him into the water instead. The rest of them let out a loud OOOOOOOOH before jumping into the pool after them. 

You scoff at their stupidity, but you can't help but laugh too. 

“Wanna go inside, y/n?” your old roommate asks you. “I heard there's an air hockey table in there.”

“I’m terrible at air hockey,” you inform them, but you agree. As you step through the door to the house, you take one look back. Seungkwan and his buddies are now playing chicken in the pool. You swear you see him looking at you from atop his buddy’s shoulders, but moments later he gets whacked with a pool noodle and falls into the water. You roll your eyes as you go in the house. Idiots. 

But you secretly still hope you can talk to him again later. 

—

Your wish comes true - sort of. 

The sun is long set, and pretty much everybody is in the hot tub. You were chilling with a few others, but more and more people started joining in. It’s getting a bit crowded, but Seungkwan happens to be two people over from you. You’ve ended up between two different conversations, participating in neither, but listening along as he talks about the new music he’s been listening to lately. 

Suddenly, a massive uproar arises from indoors. 

“SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!...”

In an instant nearly everybody leaps out of the hot tub, whooping and cheering as they follow the drunken chanting into the house. 

Everybody but Seungkwan. 

He fixes his eyes on you - his eyelids slightly heavy from numerous beers, his red-tinted cheeks illuminated in the dim glow of the backyard string lights, his lips seemingly extra plush, soft, kissable… 

He has never looked more stunning than he does right now. 

A lazy smile spreads across his face. “No shots for you, then?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I'm okay.”

“Me too.”

A few moments of silence pass. He gazes at you as if he has something he wants to say, but he hesitates. Despite the lack of conversation, it feels… comfortable. Like you could sit in silence all night with him and not get bored - his presence is more than enough. 

“Can I ask you a dumb question?” he finally asks, the look on his face slightly sheepish. 

“Sure,” you respond, working overtime to maintain your calm exterior despite your heart rate rising. “Though - I'm sure it's not dumb,” you add affirmatively.  

He reclines, lifting his elbows and placing his arms casually along the edge of the hot tub. He looks up at the moonlit night sky, as if reminiscing. 

“Do you remember when we kissed that one time?”

You feel as if you've suddenly been electrocuted. You don't know what you expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that. 

He continues. “It was at the very beginning of college - before classes had even started. At a house party. We were both drunk, you probably don't even remember-”

“No I remember,” you blurt out. He turns his head to you again, a look of genuine surprise upon his face. 

“You do?” he responds, momentarily forgetting to contain his elation. 

“Of course,” you reply with a nod. 

“You must have a really good memory, then,” he says nonchalantly - but you can tell he hopes there's something more to it. 

“Not really,” you admit. His eyes remain locked on yours. He turns slightly, facing you. 

“I've thought about it often over the years. Thought about you.” 

Your stomach drops. 

He drifts a bit closer through the softly bubbling water, his eyes locked on you. “Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I’d ever had the courage to ask you out.”

You stare back at him, too stunned to respond. His lips curl into a smile. 

“What's that look for?” he asks. His big brown eyes are practically sparkling.

“I…” you start, but your mind goes blank. You're still trying to process his words. 

“I had no idea you felt that way,” you eventually manage to say. “Honestly, I didn't even know if you remembered who I was.”

“You're kinda hard to forget.”

“Oh,” is what manages to come out of your mouth. You feel dizzy.

“What do you mean, courage?” you ask him. 

“Hm? Oh, I mean you’re just so… out of my league.”

You let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. It’s Seungkwan’s turn to look confused. 

“It's true!” he proclaims. 

You gawk back at him. He laughs. 

“You look flabbergasted.”

“I am flabbergasted,” you concur. “You're the one who's way out of my league!”

He shakes his head. “You're crazy. But that's why I like you.” He drifts toward you even further, fully sitting beside you now. His shoulder brushes against yours. A rush of adrenaline pulses through your body. 

“That,” he continues, “and the fact that you're one of the smartest people I know. And kind. And funny. And…”

Gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his. 

“So beautiful.”

Without a further thought, you kiss him. 

He kisses you back, with such passion that can only be achieved by a prolonged period of yearning. He cradles your face in his hand, the other reaching for your waist under the water. You grasp his shirt in your fist, melting into the kiss you've been dreaming of for years. You slide your other hand underneath the drenched fabric of his tee, wrapping around to the small of his back, drawing him in even closer. He wraps both arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, squeezing your body tightly against his as his lips hungrily lock into yours. Your mind is completely devoid of any thoughts unrelated to Seungkwan - you only think of him, of his words to you, of the sensations of his figure touching yours, of the hardening form beneath his trousers pressing against your core. 

After what feels like a blissful eternity, your lips delicately part, your mouths lingering next to one another. You’re fully sat upon him now, straddling his thighs as he holds you tight in his arms. You slide your arms over his shoulders, shifting yourself upwards - ostensibly to position yourself more comfortably, but also conveniently grinding against the bulge in his swim trunks. He groans at the sensation.  

“Fuckkkkk.”

He looks up at you, longingly. You're both still somewhat inebriated, but sobered up enough from the adrenaline rush of physical touch. 

“What if we…,” you start, pausing to plant several kisses onto his soft cheeks. 

“...got out of here?”

His eyes light up with excitement. 

“We could head to my place-”

“Nuh-uh,” he interjects. “That'll take too long,” he  mumbles as he presses his mouth against your neck. You let out an involuntary noise. 

“I've waited long enough. I want you now.”

His voice grumbling in your ear makes your pussy ache. 

“I happen to be staying the night in the guest bedroom,” he tells you as he runs his fingers gently up and down your back. “Upstairs - third door on the left at the end of the halfway.”

You draw your face back, pressing your forehead against his. 

“Well that's convenient.”

He grins. “You go first. I’ll join you in a couple minutes.”

You quickly dry off, don your coverup, and enter the buzzing house. You worry that someone is going to see you heading upstairs and ask you what you're doing - but nobody even seems to realize you're there. They're all too drunk to notice or give a shit. 

Acting as if you belong there, you head up the large staircase. Upstairs you find a ridiculously long hallway - you approach the third door on the left, giving a soft knock in case anyone else has decided to use the room for similar purposes. Hearing nothing from the other side, you enter. The guest room is fairly large, equipped with the usual furnishings, with Seungkwan’s bag and things tidily placed in their appropriate spots. A king size bed with expensive-looking sheets and a plethora of pillows awaits. 

Before you can even start to overthink everything, the room is flooded with light from the door opening abruptly. Startled, you turn around to see the light extinguished as quickly as it appeared as Seungkwan shuts the door behind him and turns the lock. He arrived shirtless - which makes sense considering that his t-shirt would've been sopping wet due to him wearing it in the pool, but his unexpected half-nakedness certainly makes your insides jolt. Even in the dimness of the room, even with damp strands of hastily towel-dried hair laying disheveled across his forehead, he is strikingly hot. 

“That was fas-”

“Couldn't wait,” he says as he grabs your face, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You grasp onto the bulge in his shorts, squeezing lightly. He moans into your mouth as he kisses you still. You grab ahold of your coverup, starting to remove it, but his hands snap up to your wrists, stopping you. 

“Hold on,” he mutters, his lips barely separated from yours. 

His fingers delicately trace the swimsuit’s thin straps though the sheer outer fabric. He lifts his hand and cups your face in his palm, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. 

“I wanna watch.”

He pulls the desk chair out and sits down, his supple thighs spreading apart to accommodate what appears to be a thick fucking cock, still growing in size. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I’m only wearing a swimsuit, it's not gonna take long.”

“Take your time, baby.”

And so you make a show out of it. 

You caress your breasts through the sheer top, squeezing them gently. You run your fingertips over your nipples, causing them to harden and visibly poke through the swimsuit. Seungkwan moans at the sight of them, reaching his hand down to his cock and stroking it slowly through his shorts. 

You peel your outer garment off your body in slow motion, discarding it to the floor. You run your hands back down your body, hugging every curve; one hand returns to your breast, pinching your nipple, while the other keeps sliding down, finding your clit and massaging it lightly over the fabric. 

“God that's fucking hot.”

He reaches his hand into his shorts, letting out a pathetic whine as he touches himself. You feel your cunt throb beneath your fingers. 

“Take those off,” you plead.  

He gives a few more slow pumps before sliding his trousers off, tossing them aside. Your eyes widen as his length springs free, brushing against his stomach. He’s even bigger than you expected, not only long but fat. Genuinely, you're not sure how he could even possibly fit inside you - but that makes you crave it even more. 

Slowly you slide your swim top to the side, your erect nipple growing even harder in the cool air of the room. You run your hand over your bare tit, reaching across to expose the other. Seungkwan’s hand falls into a steady rhythm as he strokes his cock. He leans his head back, sinking into the chair, his eyes glazed over as they pore over your body. You continue, sliding the reminder of your swimsuit off and discarding it on the floor. He groans as his grip tightens, his pace increasing. 

You step forward. 

“Can I…”

You drop to your knees, sliding your hands onto his thighs, positioning your face in front of his cock. 

“Oh god, please,” he begs, nodding his head fervorously. 

You grab onto his cock, running your tongue from his balls to his tip. He moans, the sounds turning whinier as you begin to swirl your tongue around the head. By the time you take his entire length into your throat, he is full on whimpering. 

He places his hand upon your head, pushing down lightly. You slide your mouth up and down his cock, swallowing him so deep it makes you gag - but that only makes you wetter. He pushes your head down harder, pressure increasing more and more as his body writhes beneath you. 

“Oh my god baby,” he moans. “Fuckkkk y/n, ‘m gonna cum.”

His thighs begin to shake as he thrusts into your mouth, holding your head in place as he releases. Your eyes flood with tears as you choke on his size, hot spurts of cum deliciously hitting the back of your throat. His moans taper off as he comes down, his hand gently stroking your hair. You pull your mouth off his cock, looking up at him as you swallow all of his cum. 

“Jesus christ, you're so hot,” he praises as he catches his breath. After several silent moments of deep breathing, he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. His hands grasp your hips, pushing you toward the bed as he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste himself on you. You reach the side of the bed, the back of your legs bumping against the mattress; he swings you around, swapping places with you as he sits down. He plants a series of kisses on your stomach before gazing up at you, still high off his orgasm as revealed by his warm, glowing pink cheeks. 

“Will you sit on my face?”

You hesitate. You run your hands through his hair as you ask, “Are you sur-”

“Yes. Please.”

He lays down, resting upon the bed's many pillows. 

“You don't even know how many times I’ve dreamed of this.”

He pulls you onto the bed, on top of him. You crawl up toward his face, your pussy lingering in front of his lips. He grabs your hips again, pulling you onto his mouth. You cry out as he buries his face in your cunt, his lips and tongue traversing your soaked folds. 

“Fuck you're so wet,” he mumbles, refusing to remove his mouth from you any further. He begins to fuck you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit in a way that drives you fucking crazy. You grind your hips, the friction against your sensitive spot sending waves of pleasure through your body. You ride his face, hips bucking lightly as he eats you out like there’s no tomorrow. 

He drags his tongue up your slit, locking his lips around your clit, making you let out ungodly noises as he sucks on the throbbing bud. His arms wrap around your thighs, squeezing tightly as he holds you firmly against his face. He alternates between flattening his tongue against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it - the combination of sensations driving you over the edge. 

You grip onto the headboard, white-knuckled, as your legs begin to shake. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, looking down at the man whose face is buried in your cunt. He gazes at you, his eyes drunk with lust, taking in the sight of you moaning and losing your mind to his touch. “Seungkwan…”

Your orgasm takes over, riding out your climax upon his tongue. You clutch onto your breast, whimpering shamelessly, seeing stars as you cum all over his face. Time seems to stop as pleasure explodes through your whole being. 

His tongue slows as you come down, licking you softly as you brush your fingers through his tousled locks. With heavy breaths you climb off of his face, clinging to him as you lay next to him. Seungkwan quickly rolls over on top of you, his huge cock fully erect again - clearly extremely turned on by making you cum. 

You open your legs, aligning your soaked cunt with its head. 

“Fuck me,” you plead breathily. 

He slowly pushes his cock into you. As wet and ready as you are, nothing could have prepared you for his size. The stretch is instant, your walls forming around his thickness. You've never felt more full in your life. 

You let out a groan as he bottoms out, filling up your whole cunt. He begins fucking you, rhythmically pounding into you as his breath heaves with each thrust. You shift your hips, allowing him to go even deeper. He kisses you, pressing his lips against yours desperately, your moans unceasing but muffled against his mouth. Soon, he's fucking you hard - and it feels heavenly. 

“Harder,” you beg. 

His eyes devour you, his reddened cheeks glistening with sweat as he gives you every inch of his cock. His eyes close, his face scrunching up as his breathing grows heavy. 

“Gonna make me cum again, oh fuck…” he barely manages to get out before his moaning rises in pitch. He gets only a few more thrusts in before he pulls out; he grabs his cock and gives it several powerful strokes before he cums a second time, white ropes painting your dripping pussy and your stomach. 

With a deep exhale, he plops onto the bed right beside you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. His fingers graze over your body as he reaches for your breasts, squeezing them softly as he recovers, his chest rising and falling against you with heavy but slowing breaths. 

“That was…” he says as he strokes his hands softly against your cheek, turning your head to face him. 

“Wow.”

You let out a giggle, your head still spinning from getting dicked the fuck down. 

“Soooo…” he starts, shifting his body to lay comfortably on his side. “I promise I wasn't stalking you or anything, but I did hear that you got a job in the same city as me.”

You stare back at him, confused. 

“But I thought you were moving back to your hometown?” 

He smiles. “I was planning to, but at the last minute I decided to take this offer. I wanted to be closer to most of my friends. But - I happened to hear you'd be moving there too. And I’d be lying if I said that wasn't at least a little bit of a factor in my decision.”

Your eyes light up as you process his words. 

“Honestly, I only came to this party because I thought I’d never see you again,” you admit. 

He gives you a cheeky grin. “So you came here intending on hooking up with me.”

“No!!” you balk at him, but a smile spreads across your face too. “Well… maybe a little. I figured I had only one more chance to shoot my shot. And I knew I'd regret it if I didn't at least try.” 

He beams at you softly. “Well, I sure am glad you did.”

“Me too,” you beam back. 

“Though,” you add, “Now that you've rearranged my guts I think you should at least take me out to dinner.”

Seungkwan bursts out laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells you, but he leans in for another kiss. 

“But I’d absolutely love to.”

—

taglist: @juyeonshour @bath1lda @miniseokminnies @myhimbomingi

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; minwon, jeongcheol, wonchan + other)

MINWON

"🥀 service 🥀". au: waiter!mg. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Working the VIP room at a restaurant, Mingyu accidentally makes a mess of the rich patron's expensive suit, however Wonwoo saved Mingyu from getting fired and offers him even more.

"back 2 u (am 01:27)". au: football player!mg. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

Mingyu breaks up with Wonwoo. They don't stop seeing each other.

"regal love". royalty!au: commander!ww, emperor!mg, omegaverse: beta!ww, alpha!mg. oneshot, 8k. pg-13.

"Sica wouldn't be under our rule if it wasn't for you. And that's why I would like to appoint you as the Minister of the province."

Dark eyes stared up at the emperor, lips pulled into a polite smile that never reached his eyes. Raven eyes that saw too much and lips that spoke too little. "I'm afraid I would have to turn down the offer your highness. Sica doesn't have you."

"in your orbit". band!au. oneshot, 8.6k. nc-17.

Wonwoo nearly kisses Mingyu on stage and even though Mingyu's dreamt about the moment for so long, it was never like this. He does the only logical thing—run away.

"bloodstained". fantasy!au: vampire!ww, werewolf!mg. 5 chapters, 49k. nc-17.

When he meets Wonwoo for the first time, Mingyu is about to die.

"what is it to burn". omegaverse: omega!ww, alpha!mg. 15 chapters, 103k. nc-17.

Mingyu isn't the only one with a secret. Wonwoo is the sole omega in the group of thirteen—a truth he's always kept concealed from the public.

When a dire situation arises, the boundaries between friendship and something more begin to blur.

JEONGCHEOL

"like a tsunami". college!au, oneshot, 1k. nc-17.

What's wetter? The shower or..?

"hate that you know me so well". oneshot, 5k. r.

Seungcheol wants Jeonghan. The group knows it. The fans know it. And it'd be great for everyone if Seungcheol could just god damn admit it.

"the dance of sea monsters and mermaids". office!au. oneshot, 12.5k. nc-17.

Competitors have been asking how Coupsmetics gets ahead of branding and market, when the only differences of their brands are subtle alterations of formula.

“A magician never spills his secrets.” Seungcheol would only offer a polite smile before he looks over to Secretary Yoon.

"tornado warnings". oneshot, 20k. pg-13. ♡

This was Jeonghan’s idea, and Seungcheol has the texts to prove it. Jeonghan is almost always the one calling for these things: let’s go eat, Cheolie-yah. Let’s take a walk, Seungcheol-ah. The lake is pretty, isn’t it? Let’s sit for a while, Seungcheolie. Seungcheolie—it’s cold. Give me your sweater.

And Seungcheol caves, and caves, and only offers the amount of resistance it takes to make Jeonghan smile again.

WONCHAN

"(i) put a spell on you". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!dn. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Wonchan are extremely, nastily obsessed with each other, and get nastier after a drought: the fic.

"love's awakened root". omegaverse: alpha!ww, omega!dn. oneshot, 9k. nc-17.

"I'm spending your rut with you," Chan says to Wonwoo. "Right?"

OTHER

"feelin' so hot (i got the fire)". soongyu. oneshot, 3k. nc-17.

Soonyoung hasn’t been touched in months. When he finally has a day off (and plans out a little self-care), he’s interrupted by a desperate call from Mingyu asking for help with the latest choreography. It won’t take long, right?

"everlasting arms". verkwan. omegaverse: omega!sk, alpha!vn. oneshot, 4k. nc-17.

Hansol's hoodies are missing. All of them.

"pretty please". seoksoon. omegaverse: omega!hs, omega!dk, rule 63. oneshot, 5k. nc-17.

For everything that leads her to fuck Jihoon's sister, Soonyoung blames heats. Heats, plural, as a concept. Heats for lesbian omegas, more specifically.

"a prayer for spring rain". jeonghan/wonwoo/dk. wolf!au: omega!jh, alpha!ww, beta!dk. oneshot, 7k. nc-17.

Wonwoo is no ordinary alpha. He wants something he will never get. That is until Seokmin and Jeonghan approach him with a proposition.

"all this manufactured desire". seokcheol. magical realism: sex pollen. oneshot, 10k. nc-17.

Seokmin braces himself, and he feels Seungcheol do the same, even without looking. Even while they both pointedly don’t look at each other.

“It’s some sort of lust spell, inducing feelings or urges so strong until it becomes unbearable,” Seungkwan says in a remarkably steady tone of voice, all things considered. "The, uh, only solution is to…fuck it out.”

"warm blood (underneath your skin)". jigyu. au: camboy!mg. oneshot, 11k. nc-17.

Jihoon’s skin prickles as he watches because all he can do is watch. Electricity lights up his muscles in a way that screams “reach out and take”, and it’s the inability that’s burning him up. He doesn’t normally feel this way watching Mingyu.

"if we don't do it, i can imagine it". seokwoo. roomate!au, gamer!ww, camboy!dk. oneshot, 26k. nc-17. ♡♡

Everything’s fine. Wonwoo might be in the process of developing a porn addiction and he’s certainly going to die alone and pining, but everything’s fine.

"in danger of a true romance". gyushua. au. 5 chapters, 33k. nc-17. ♡♡♡

When his best friend gets engaged after Joshua goes through a string of bad breakups and worse first dates, he swears off of dating. Unfortunately, the universe (and Jeonghan) has other plans. The man of honor he's supposed to plan this wedding with may look like Joshua's type on the surface (tall and eager), but he's a romantic -- and Joshua learned the hard way that romance isn't something he gets.

[s-lorelei]

🌿 Sheileigh (Shylee) 🌿 She/Her || 21

Gender: female ♀️

Sexuality: aroace/bisexual 🏳️‍🌈

Fun fact: I made this divider! ♥︎

Fandoms: AoT, Sk8, WoF, Warrior Cats, Harry Potter, HTTYD, ATLA

Personality: sweet as a lemon 🍋 {I can be super sweet though, I swear 🍰}

💚 Likes: coffee w/ extra creamer, dill pickle chips, spicy food, thunderstorms, fluffy clothes, succulents, hyacinths, betta fish, cats, honeybees, tigers, reading, cottagecore anything..

⚠️ Dislikes: rain (the getting wet part), cold weather, math, cigarette smoke, men who are jackasses to me or any of my girlies, dogs, wasps (why do they have to exist?), fanfiction, people who act like jerks and then turn around and play the victim when they’re finally accused of their awful behavior..

🚫 Things I absolutely despise: ATYD, trans rights activists who don't do their research, anti-feminists (asshole men & idiot women who think they can't live without a man), people who hate J.K. Rowling, proshippers, Severus Snape haters (Snaters), Tiktok, Donald Trump, Mike Johnson, Pete Hegeseth, J.D. Vance (hillbilly, my ass. You're from Ohio, my guy.), Marjorie Taylor Greene, RFK Jr, literally anyone in the Trump Administration right now.

💖 Things that I adore: Santa Fe salad, my grandma's cooking (seriously, she makes some awesome chicken and carrot stew.), Justin Trudeau, Volodomyr Zylenskyy, my cat Apollo.

‼️ Current obsessions: The 9/11 Bush Administration theory (9/11 was 100% an inside job), man vs bear experiment, getting into a self-care routine.

🚫 DNI LIST ‼️:

Misogynists

TRAs

Trump supporters

"Pro-life" supporters

Anti-Ukrainian/Pro-Putinists

Radqueers

"Plural" people with "systems." This is called having a mental illness, and you should probably be looked at by a medical professional.

Proshippers (as in the people who write incest or pedophilia fics on their blogs because I have seen some)

Marauders stans (If you're a normal Marauders era person, you're fine. I just don’t need any delulu tiktok fans in here.)

Snaters

Any form of paraphilia (pedophilia, agraphilia, necrophilia, etc.)

Islamophobics/antisemitics

People who identify as 100+ different things because that's just weird and unnecessary

Yes, I will know because I look at profiles when people follow or reblog.

EXTRA (things I am):

A gender critical, radical feminist, and no I don't care if you hate me for it

A person who loves canon works. No, I'm not reading a 500k word fanfic that's an AU while everyone on Tiktok is passing it off as the law. I'll read it to criticize it and that's it.

A democrat in a deeply red state

A multishipper (I learned this from my high school years of watching anime.)

A heart surgery patient. I had surgery when I was ten to repair seven holes in my ventricle septum. (Shoutout to the Vanderbilt doctors of Nashville, TN!)

(I also made this one!)

FANDOM INFO (interests and just stuff to do with fandoms/books and television):

Favourite genres: mystery, thriller, fantasy

Favourite books: The Giver, The Hobbit, Red, White & Royal Blue, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince

Favourite animes: Attack on Titan, Sk∞ the Infinity, Banana Fish, No.6, Yuri!!! on Ice, Bungou Stray Dogs, Terror in Resonance, Seraph of the End, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, Angels of Death, Your Name

Favourite mangas: Assassination Classroom, Attack on Titan, Apocalypse no Toride (seriously, this is such a good manga and deserves an anime, the issue is that the author stopped updating/the manga got axed 😭)

Favourite characters: Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Bill Weasley, Bilbo Baggins, Ravi Singh, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Jean Kirstein, Tamaki Amajiki, Cloudykit, Whiteout, Turtle, Queen Snowfall (a lot of Wings of Fire characters)

Favourite Disney movies: Raya and The Last Dragon, Brave, Moana (the first one, not whatever wretched thing the second one was), Tuck Everlasting, The Lone Ranger, Encanto

Favourite Dreamworks movies: Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, every HTTYD movie, El dorado, every Shrek movie (except this newest one, probably), Shark Tale, Kung Fu Panda, Over The Hedge, The Croods, there's so many Dreamworks movies that I love.

Overall favourite movie: Coraline (I could literally watch it on repeat forever), I also love Racing Stripes.

Favourite ships: Eruri, Drarry, Snily, Harry × Luna, Draco × Pansy (ik I also ship drarry but dransy is so cute ngl), AshEiji, Yurio × Otabek, Nezushi, Jeankasa, Kiribaku, Izuocha, and many more.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can you write a mermaid au where the reader attends a circus with poorly dressed employees who are supposed to look like fairy tale characters but the main event of the circus is a merman ( kyojuro) and he does this amazing performance and the reader goes and talks to him to ask how he does those stunts in the water without breathing (because she don't think their a real mermaid) until she see the gills actually moving?

Please and thank you I just think Kyojuro would be so pretty as a merman

Ooohh! Cute, a Merman Kyojuro~! Let’s go, I can’t wait to finish this up! Thanks again, loves!

Rengoku Kyojuro- Fantasy is True

You could tell why this cheap half-assed circus managed to attract the attention of a number of families. It spilled out so many promises on online advertisements and it rolled around your little homely village regularly, it was clearly a quick cash-grab type of business

On a meaningless but yet only relax day of Sunday, you truly had nothing else to do once you finished your power nap and your curiosity got the better of you, ended up with a single ticket to this circus that proudly proclaimed to have had a real fairytale creature performing for them

You want to see if they really do have a real life fantasy creature at their disposal, willy-nilly or if they are just bullshitting to further get money off circus-addicted children or bored adults like you

Taking a lazy seat at the first empty bench row you spot when you enter through the curtains, you slid the paper ticket into the case of your phone and pocketed it. As a extra measure incase you need that ticket, you propped your hands on your cheeks over your knees and stared at the empty stage, already bored out of your mind with loudly speaking children and occasionally scolding parents filling up the seats all around you

You hoped this circus would make your day even the slightest bit better

Boy… it for sure did

The employees’ last-minute baked uniforms were clearly modelled after fairytale characters; Riding Hood, Fairies, Elves, all kinds of would-have-been pretty looking displays if they gave a shit to actually look good. You could tell how badly careless the outfits were thrown together, stitching all over the fabric and even a zipper busting out from the back on the Riding Hood actor as many came out of the darkness circling the stage

You truly had no right to complain as the children in the stalls were cooing and cheering at the performances. Clearly, they had some reputation of being incompetent and children aren’t that brainless, even some lonely middle-aged adults or bored teenagers were remarking openly that the performances were decent

The juggling, the fire ring jumping, the clown scene, all do the stereotypical and common circus parts came in so quickly, filling the lousy stage with people doing their best to entertain. Crossing your arms and hoping something else would come, your request suddenly came to reality as the much more fancy and lavish-appearing Ringmaster appeared in the centre of the stage

The non-dressed employees that clearly hid in the back, possibly operating the music and lights, wheeled in a huge mysteries rectangle covered by a pale yellow sheet and held off the ground by a massive dark blue metallic mini-trailer without the walls. Was this the fascinating real fairytale being this circus proclaimed to have?

“For the grand finalee~! Ladies and gentleman, I present to you! A real lifeeee—” The Ringmaster dramatically called out into the microphone clutched tightly in his hands as his makeshift clown tore the sheet off the rectangle and revealed the content underneath. A gigantic glass container without the lid and filled to the tippy top with clear yet noticeable light blue water

What was inside was actually more believable and realistic as compared to all the other circus performers here

A human being, a fully grown man was swimming around the thick, you assumed, seawater with a bright smile on his attractive fan. His skin was a healthy tan, his visible torso and arms were built to the brim with muscles and athleticism and the most interesting part. A merman tail that directly mirrored the long-finned tail of a Firefish Goby. From what you saw of his fingers, they were webbed and his ears looked more like fins then ears

White at the hips and fade to dark red at the ends with light orange to dark orange completing the beautiful fade. This most-certainly fake merman tail prop looked very convincing and very professional! This is beyond amazing as compared to every other actor, they must have poured all their love into a merman actor

“Welcome! Our lovely merman, Kyojuro!” The Ringleader cheered pridefully, quickly rushing into the black shadows as the many high-beam lights illuminating the wide stage shut off mysteriously and all the ones remaining tilted over to the supposed merman’s container as to place the centre of attention onto him. Like it was nature, Kyojuro flung himself out of the water beautifully and begun to harmonise, seemingly as ready as he would ever be

His singing voice is incredible, so angelic and majestic as he hung over the thin glass wall before he flopped back into the water without stopping his singing, your eyes widened in shock. How was a human singing underwater? No, it must have been a technological trick of the radio playing a convincing audio of a man singing as the actor pretended to sing, he probably isn’t singing at all!

You carefully followed every movement and stunt the supposedly Merman, Kyojuro performed as he leapt out of the water, flinging thin strings of water around, in which glittered with the artificial light by a flip of the tail’s small round fins. Even the adults were gawking in wonder at Kyojuro’s fascinating show and by the end, the Ringmaster excitedly thanked every paying customer for taking time to come to their circus but you ignored his little speech

Your eyes followed watching the employees wheel away Kyojuro from the centre of the wooden-pane stage in a extreme sense of wonder and want of discover. How he could stay underwater for so long and even keep his mouth open underwater so effectively, wouldn’t it cause water to enter his lungs? Thankfully, the Ringleader was too ego-driven to not let the children approach the employees and praise his work

You manoeuvred through the wave of parents with their young children once you stepped down from your seat. Most other patrons had left with only a handful exploring the stage and speaking with the actors. You were the only solo adult doing so but you didn’t want to pretend you were believing that you were talking to Snow White, no.

You just wanted to meet and greet the amazing “Merman”

Pure amazement overflowed your eyes as your pace grew slower, you pressed palms on the thin but tall glass pane wall facing you once you reached it, flinching when Kyojuro does the same from the inside. Your palms looked as if they touched his on a angle. You couldn’t believe this human was doing all these stunts for almsot three hours non-stop without needing air as he was singing and speaking everytime he went up, was he using a invisible oxygen task or something?

The floating locks of firey yellow and red crossed his neck and face slowly by the water pulling it around, highlighting his gorgeous flame-coloured eyes, in which calmly bored through you with enlightenment for finally having company again, especially company from a pretty woman. Your world begin spinning in amazement and disbelief at what you noticed after examining him up close

Three thin lines on both sides of his neck, almost like strange lacerations, slowly flaring in and out like how a chest would rise and fall. Exactly as how fish filter water for their own breathing needs, he did the same

Kyojuro was worried for you by the way you reacted as he pressed his brick-like muscular chest against the glass like he was trying to break out, his expression dissolving into concern as you stumbled back, clutching your head with one hand. You almost didn’t want to believe it but all the evidence, you couldn’t ignore all the evidence

…He wasn’t a normal human nor a very trained human actor. The oddly-marketed main attraction of this dilapidated wannabe circus is no joke nor a fake, he is a…

A merman! A real merman!

[anyamaris]

The Art of Love

Word Count-2854

Summary- A solitary hike while on vacation to Jeju Island leads you to an encounter with a fascinating creature, and possibly a new form of art.

Pairing- Mermaid!Hyunjin x Artist!f!reader

Trope-Strangers to Lovers AU

Warnings-Fantasy elements, Hyunjin is a kumonryu koi merman, I think that's it?

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @lemonhongjoong @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @flowerboykun @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @kthpurplesyou @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @ssaboala @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren

A/N- This is for the event with @cultofdionysusnet Where the Shoreline Meets the Sea, so make sure you check out the other SKZ members by other network members! I hope you enjoy my addition to the collab!

“It’s so beautiful!” you gasp as you make your way into the cottage you’ll be staying in during your trip.  The murmur of voices from your group of friends just drives up your excitement, the small exclamations of oohs and ahhs making you smile.  Watching them claim their rooms, you just go explore other areas and decide that you’ll just take whatever is left.  You were more concerned about getting out to see the beauty of the island and planned on tiring yourself out enough that you’d be happy sleeping on the couch.  

Going to join your friends, you get swept up in the energy and glance out to the beauty that is Jeju island.  Patting the carrying case with your sketchbook and pencils, you smile happily as you discuss the finer details like groceries and such.  Letting your mind drift off as you listen, you gaze dreamily out the window, picturing all of the beautiful things you’ll come across to add to your portfolio; the memories you’ll make this summer in this cottage, or out on the sand of the beach, on the patio as you share your time with your closest friends.  

As the weeks go by, you spend the majority of your time on the beach, doing random activities, occasionally venturing out onto the ocean, or into the little town.  But the strongest pull for you has been the mountain.  Mount Halla, or Hallasan mountain, amongst other names you’ve heard it called in the time you’d been here.  Despite the numerous names, it alone has the singular strongest pull for you.  

The first week, you and a few others had ventured onto the small hiking trails near the base.  It would be a silly thought to want to climb the mountain itself, but you find yourself enchanted by the beautiful greenery, the plants and animals as well as the vast open sky above it all.  It was perfect for a solo hiking trip.  And that’s what you planned on doing today.

Leaving a note for your friends, you double check your supplies, making sure you have some snacks and water, as well as your sketchbook and pencils.  You’d informed everyone of your plans the day prior, so the note was just a courtesy to remind them.  Checking the charge on your phone, you let yourself out the door to walk out into the predawn morning.  

Walking the trail as the sun rises is an added bonus to the already gorgeous surroundings, and you happily climb out of the transport as they drop you off to walk towards the trail you’ve been down with the others a few times now.  Humming to yourself, you just take in the environment, eager to reach the small area you’d noticed on the last visit. 

The sun is climbing the sky when you finally spot the barely noticeable little opening, and once you are able to venture a little closer to it, you smile.  It’s definitely a trail and your excitement skyrockets as you push aside the vegetation and walk through for a little bit and it opens up completely.  “Found you!” you whisper to yourself and there’s a little extra bounce in your step as you follow the trail into the forest beyond.  

You spend half of the day walking, admiring the beauty of the area, taking the trail that winds up the side of the mountain.  Occasionally, you stop to sketch something, a flower or a tree, maybe a bird if you can manage.  But when you come upon the pond at the edge of a clearing, you can’t help but hunker down, unpacking all of your art supplies to set up camp and pour your heart into the drawing.  The trees ringing the beautiful water give it the perfect frame, and the pretty water lilies with the gorgeous blooms have you losing yourself in your art.  

Occasionally you hear a small splash, or the chirp of a bird…sometimes the bark of frogs.  It’s not until you feel a tickle on the back of your neck do you notice that you’re no longer alone. You had been concentrating on the vegetation near the farther side of the pond, but when you happened to glance away from your sketchpad to take in the whole area, you fall backwards with a yelp.  

“Hello there.” the soothing voice says, and you stare with your mouth hanging open, blinking like an idiot.  Before you is a shirtless (naked?) man, just his torso above the water.  He is resting his head on his hands near a rock and watching you, his big brown eyes taking you in calmly.  His long dark hair was streaked with patches of white, and his rich, chocolate eyes were studying you like he was fascinated.  

“Who-” you manage to get out, your hand on your chest as you stare.  “I am Hyunjin.  My name…my name is Hyunjin.  It’s been awhile since I spoke to a human.” he murmurs and you frown at him.  “Excuse me?” He just sighs, and motions over his shoulder, and you catch your breath as you watch a large black and white tail emerge from the water.  The sheer beauty of the almost transparent end of the tail looks like silk, and unlike most fish you’d seen, the skin of the tail itself appeared smooth, not scaly.  

You barely notice that you’re creeping forward, your hand outstretched as you reach for him.  You snap out of it and snatch your hand back, your eyes flicking back to the man the tail seems to be attached to.  His bored, almost sad expression has you closing your mouth as you study him.  “Hyunjin?” you ask him softly and he nods, blinking slowly up at you.  “Are you..a mer..maid? Merman?”  His soft smile has a hint of a smirk as he tosses his hair off his shoulder. 

“It’s all the same in your language, much different in mine.  It all means the same, of course.” he responds and you just nod, drawing your knees up to get comfortable.  You take in his bare torso, his slender arms, his handsome yet almost painfully beautiful face.  “Why are you here instead of…” you gesture to the distance.  “ …the ocean?” His eyes grow pained and a frown tugs at his full lips, making you immediately regret your question.  “Forget what I asked!” you say quickly and a small light touches his eyes at your panic.  

“It’s fine.  I cannot go into the salt water, sadly.  My friends all are able, but I am confined to the waters inside of the island.” You feel a small weight on your heart as he says it, still processing even finding a creature like him but the idea of being stuck here was heartbreaking.  “Can you leave the water?” you ask him softly and he smiles at you.  “Yes, I can, for a time.” he nods, then pulls himself out onto the rock.  You gasp as you take in his beautiful black and white tail before a shimmer forms the tail into two legs.  

Then he’s pulling himself up to stand in front of you and you choke on a strangled scream, covering your mouth as your cheeks turn red.  “Oh yes…I had forgotten…humans are not used to naked bodies.” he says, turning to walk away towards a small path you hadn’t noticed before.  Stopping, he looks over his shoulder at you and smiles.  

“If you give me a moment I’ll dress, and you can have a meal here as well as a place to rest for the evening.”  With that he turns and disappears, leaving you with the mental image of his long, lean naked body and his…prominent … endowment.  Slapping your cheeks, you breathe out heavily, for the first time noticing the sun dipping down below the mountain.  “Oh my god!” you yell, realizing you had lost track of time and now it was going to be night soon.

Making your way along the path you watched Hyunjin walk down, your mouth hangs open at the sight of a small cottage under the canopy of trees.  The flora is overgrown and creeping along the sides of the small building, onto the roof and you can’t help but be reminded of fairy tales from your childhood.  Imagine, meeting a mermaid on a foreign island who lives in a cottage, you think, overjoyed at your discovery.  

You finally close your mouth as you take in the beauty of the area, your eyes settling on the gorgeous creature named Hyunjin.  He’d put on a pair of loose fitted pants to cover himself and was now settled on the small rock wall beside the little house.  Leaning back on his arms, he was just studying you with a slightly wary expression, and you can’t help but capture the seeming underlying sadness again.  

“Hyunjin.” you say his name, turning it over and his eyes flicker a bit as you watch him.  Clutching your bag to your chest, you look around, taking in the darkening sky.  “May I…would I be able to camp here for the evening?” you ask him, mildly embarrassed.  He just tilts his head at you as you shuffle your feet and stammer.  “Camp? Are you asking if it’s alright to sleep here?” he responds and you just bite your lip and nod.  

“I lost track of time, with my drawing and well…I don’t want to-” “Of course you may.  I would not want you to risk injury to yourself, or for you to get yourself lost in these woods.  There are many creatures on the island, much more of a risk to a human than I.  You’ll be perfectly safe here, little one.”  “Y/n.” you say shyly, enchanted with his form in the setting sunlight.  

“Is this your name?” he asks and you nod, giving him a small smile.  “Why are you so wary? You may sit, relax.”  He gestures to the small area with some flat rocks and a few logs.  “Apologies for my lack of seating and comforts…I don’t have much need for them.” You smile broadly at him, settling yourself on a flat rock, leaning against a log.  “I’m fairly simple to please, actually.  This is wonderful.”  You motion around you, taking it in again.  “I think it’s lovely here.” 

He gives you a bright smile and looks around at the cottage.  “I suppose.  What is it you were doing earlier?” he asks, noticing as you pull out your sketchbook again.  “Oh…I am…well I want to be an artist. I was drawing the beautiful lake you..where-” “Ah! Might I see what you drew?” he asks, pushing himself up to come crouch beside you, curiosity lighting up his face.  

“Oh…sure..it’s not great but…” you open the book to the page you’d been working on and he slips down to sit beside you as he looks at the sketch you’d done.  You can’t help but study his profile as he tucks his hair behind his ear, admiring his almost otherworldly beauty.  He glances at you and blinks as he notices your face only inches from his.  “It is quite beautiful. You drew my home…” he tilts his head at you as your cheeks heat up, leaning even closer to you.  

“May I see more?” he asks and you blink rapidly as you tear your gaze from him.  “Yes, yes of course.” you stutter and he smiles as you flip through the book, explaining the different things you’d found as you wandered that day, then going back to other days.  You don’t miss the wistful sigh as he takes in the ocean and the view from your rental cottage where you were staying.  

“Is it quite lonely here?” it just slips out but his eyes meet yours and you can see the pain behind them at your words.  “Ah…I’m so sorry, I don’t know why-” “It is quite lonely, yes.  Occasionally I will travel to the ocean to meet my friends, but I cannot join them in the waters there.  I like it here, but it is very solitary.”  He frowns at you and wipes a tear you hadn’t noticed running down your cheek.

“Why are you sad?” he asks, tilting his head to study your face yet again.  “Oh, I just can’t imagine not being able to go see the people I care about…I…I actually quite like being alone at times, but to be unable to …” you try to recover, smiling a bit as you close your sketchbook, but he is cupping your face, startling you.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, brushing your lips with his and you gasp, but don’t pull away.  He settles back, a small smile on his face as he puts his arms behind his head, looking up at the quickly fading sun.  Too stunned to speak for a moment, you can only bring your fingers to your lips in shock.  Finally finding your voice, you watch him stare off into the sky.  

“Why are you thanking me?” you manage, your voice barely a whisper.  “Hm…for giving me the gift of your company. For sharing your heart with me.” he gestures to the drawings.  “For making my home into art.” Then he gasps, drawing his long legs up to fold them as he puts his hand to his mouth.  “Oh…I made a mistake, didn’t I? Was I wrong to touch you?  I know I’ve been told humans don’t touch like…” he gestures, and you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile.  

“No..well…yes normally it would be strange to be kissed by someone I don’t know.” His eyes go soft as he smiles at you, making your heart flutter in your chest.  “Are you saying that it’s fine that I did it?” his eyes take on a mischievous glint and you start to sputter, forming noises but no words.  He throws his head back to let out a laugh and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush.  

But then you’re laughing along with him, his infectious giggling has you snorting.  “Ah…I haven’t laughed in a long while…” he beams at you and you can see the sadness has retreated a bit as he stares at you.  “Would you keep me company tonight then? Tell me about yourself?”  he asks and you nod, setting your things to the side to get more comfortable.  

“I would love that.  Would you tell me about yourself as well? I…am curious…” he just smiles at you and agrees without hesitating.  “I would love nothing more.”  

By the time you finally drift off to sleep, the sun is making another appearance and your voice is harsh from how much you’d shared with Hyunjin.  You only remember laying your head on the log as you watched his gorgeous face, wanting the night to last forever.  You vaguely remember his musical voice soothing you, murmuring sweet nothings as dreams wash over you.

Waking up, you take in the unfamiliar surroundings of a small room, and notice that you’re on a soft bed.  Sitting up, you realize that Hyunjin must have carried you in and placed you here.  When you finally emerge from the small house, you smile as you glimpse the lean man turn towards you in the light of the morning sun.  

“Good morning, Hyunjin.”  “Good morning, my Rose.” he says back and you blush.  “Rose?” you can only ask, and he nods.  “Red roses are my favorite flower.” You walk up to him and look at him curiously.  “Then why am I-?” “I’ve decided that you’re my favorite as well, so I shall call you my Rose.” You can’t help but giggle, but when his arms wrap around you and his lips descend on yours, you shiver in delight.  

“Are you claiming me, Hyunjin?” you ask semi playfully, feeling as if you’re in a dream.  “Perhaps I am.  Only if you’re willing to be, of course.  For the duration of your time here, might I?” You only nod at him as he tips your chin up to brush his plush lips against yours once more. “I’d like that…on one condition…” you whisper and he draws back with a questioning look.  

“Anything you’d like.”  he professes and you smile up at him.  “I’d like to draw you…in the lake..in your home.  In your true form…may I?” he just blinks at you, happiness washing over his features.  “I’d love nothing more.  So you’ll return?” he asks you, his eyes pleading. 

“Will you spend the summer with me here, my beautiful Rose?” he whispers.  

“Yes, Hyunjin…every moment that I can, I will be here with you.”  

You know your friends will call you crazy, and you just might be. But just one night spent with this amazing being has you feeling things you’d never felt before.  Whatever it was, you were going to explore it with Hyunjin.  

Who knows what would come of it, love or heartbreak, passion or agony.  Perhaps all of the above.  But that’s what art was, and you were definitely dedicated to your art.

Maybe this was just the art of love.

[heartepub]

viiiiv !! many many MANY congrats on 100 followers, this is truly deserved (: ur fics are one of a kind and i always love reading them <3

for the event! 🐚 i noticed you use a lot of inspiration from movies etc etc, do they hold a special place in your heart? + what’s your process for world-building? i love how you create the environments your charas live in! (๑>◡<๑)

part of my 100 followers event!

HIIII JAY thank you sm your support (and praise ue ue ue) truly mean the world!!! <33 reading your tags makes me smile everytime :'))

(also commiserating v much w the shadowban sjhfdjfh may imujings return soon—hopefully sooner than sarangcoups)

i looove talking about process/craft (the latter is my 2025 resolution after all) so i hope u dont mind the ramble djfshdfd

it didnt even occur to me until you mentioned this, but you absolutely clocked me (the ghibli hc's, sito being vaguely based on interstellar's blight, tciw and past lives—im sketching out a fic that's based on a ph indie film too) :') admittedly my non film-based wips (reverse hades/pers csc, prince lc au, separate urban fantasy au’s for bsk and kmg, idol ljh x figure skater reader, the ljh and bsk installments of the planned love after love miniseries) are yet to be finished

interestingly, i always call myself a book girlie first and foremost. but i love films—love watching, dissecting, exploring the semiotics of it (even attended an online webinar on how signs are encoded visually in cinematography lol). but comparatively (book vs film adapted), i think for me fics based off movies are easier to write and much more adjacent to pop culture than the books ive been reading recently (which are race/identity specific, deeply ideological, and/or extremely complex to adapt into a fic, like vuong, morrison, le guin, dosto, and tolstoy)

but w some of these, especially sito and tciw, i found it interesting to play with the inherent differences in storytelling that movies and written prose have, especially with regard to interiority. prose can walk you through a character's mental spiral with words, but there’s no 1:1 equivalent for film. each medium has its strengths and weaknesses. but i liked responding to those differences, in sito and tciw especially—sito with sk as a filmmaker, and with scenes that are written as scripts (how that affects how much of sk's thoughts are revealed to the reader/presumed "viewer"), and tciw as a way to explore and construct the interiority of characters that were only hinted onscreen while watching past lives.

i think for world building (im so flattered that you like the environments of the characters!) i lean into soft world building more!! so in increments and all that. asking myself if i would say/think such a thing if i were in this character's position, with their upbringing, identity, core principles, etc. also, just the notion of architecture, not just for worldbuilding but for crafting a story—i try to be careful with what i include (is it relevant to the story, and how so). the goal of architecture here is that a writer should be unable to remove a brick (whether that's worldbuilding, scene, dialogue, a character's interior thoughts, etc) without compromising the entire story's structural integrity. obvs im still working to get better at it, but yeah!

[m--rtyr]

One of the cooler things about your AU is the fact that is seems to have been a Mech Scifi Fantasy First that over the generations and years turned cyberpunk dystopia.

From my understanding, is seems that the Divine Warriors were all mech suit operators who fought their big bad and now their mechs are used as parts for the now flesh and steel cybernetics. That is a very cool and incredibly smart concept. (Weirdly kinda makes me think of the Divine Warriors as a Voltron esc group)

Now, heres a question. Does this take place in space and the mechs are used for interplanetary travel and fights or is this all on a single planet like earth? Cause mechs always make me think of space.

Mechs always make me think of the ocean and I blame Pacific Rim. I’ve never watched them properly, don’t know what they’re about, pretty sure there’s at least one scene of a mech in water.

Anyways!

I’m not sure if I want it to be planetary or inter-planetary. I know O’Khasis is the main city, with different areas of it and towns outside, but do I then make Ru’Aun the planet? Have Tu’La be another planet they’re in close proximity to, and at war with? Have the Enki Warrior Island be a moon of Gal’Ruk?

But if it’s all on one planet like canon then places like Tu’La would just be different countries. Which means I don’t have to figure out space travel technicalities, even though I kind of want to.

I’ve not ironed that part out yet.

But thanks for the compliment for my Mech -> cybernetics lore. Whilst a lot of cybernetic parts aren’t directly harvested from mechs anymore, there’s only so much metal to go around, you can definitely tell which mech designs someone used for their parts. Obviously the Ro’Meave company uses the Matron designs commercially and the Protector designs for the family, but the SKs are Destroyer-inspired, Scholars tend to privately commission Keeper-patterned parts, and so on. Not only for the symbolism of it, but the functions too. Like Destroyer and Protector designs tend to be bulkier, with Protector designs being sleeker and more durable, whilst destroyer designs are, well, more destructive and jagged. You get the idea.

[novella-writers]

Hey Stays! 💖✨I’m looking for a literate to advanced literate style writer who can join me for a Stray Kids rpf. Matching my multi-paragraph to novella length replies is highly appreciated! I’d love to meet someone consistent and communicative with a high muse for the characters and the plot!

I’m a 25+ EST-timezone, Discord writer looking for an OC x SK pairing and am more than happy to write doubles with you and your bias. I have tons of plot ideas stored in my Notes app and always up for collabing together. Some different genres I’ve been brainstorming are;

Realistic scenarios

Magical/Fantasy/Supernatural

Dead Dove

A/B/O Dynamics

Soulmate AUs 

Am definitely looking for a rp that is equal parts smut and plot. If you’re interested or want more information like this post and I’ll reach out. 

Like if interested!

[transfemlogan]

Its sk funny designing outfits for the sides in aus cuz its like . Either their canonical outfits r 2 dramatic 4 a casual au (COUGH COUGH ROMAN & REMUS) OR theyre too SIMPLE for a fantasy or whatever au (PATTON & VIRGIL)

& then it cuts 2 logan & janus im always just "well. Button up shirt. Maybe a vest." "Janus gets his gloves still. He can keep his caplet also"

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

It’s been ages since I’ve been on tumblr. I wanna read up on an au of yours but I am indecisive. Which one would you recommend? :3

oh gosh uuuuuuuuuuuuuuh QwQ

i dunno!

the current one I'm focusing on is the Fairy AU, I had updated the Serial Killer AU and my mermaid AU "Cosmic Tides" on AO3. The other two, Playroom and Royal Guard, don't have stories just yet.

If you like fairies and fantasy filled with sweet wholesomeness and heartbreaking angst, Fairy AU!

If you like some unhinged stuff and Rulebreakers getting their just-desserts, SK AU!

giant mermaids, Cosmic Tides!

[thearmyprof]

Namu and the Wind

Who Has Seen the Wind?

by Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

Rating: T

Pairing: Namjoon/Jimin

Word count: 6,194

Genre: Modern Fantasy!AU, Non-Idol!AU, Magic Realism

Warnings: No Major Warnings, past minor character death

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49403005

Other tags: Mentioned Jeon Jungkook, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, past original character death, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Softness, Kind of Philosophical, Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism

He watches as the clear water pulls away from his bare feet, partially sunken in the dark sand, already turning bright red from the frigid water. As the wave retreats, it makes a sk sk sk sound as it pulls the rocks and pebbles with it. He is grateful for the brief reprieve brought by the sunlight—the first he’s seen since his arrival to the island three days ago—warming his cold toes as he watches the next wave rattle towards him. A bald eagle soars by, just above the water. He should have come sooner, he thinks to himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Wrinkled hands, soft and covered in age spots, pat his cheeks gently.

Another wave pulls at his feet, pain from the iciness finally giving way to numbness.

“I love you so, so much.”

He should have come sooner.

He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he digs through his pockets for the house key.

“How are you holding up, Namjoon-hyung?” the voice on the other end of the phone asks.

“Fine, you know,” Namjoon shrugs and immediately drops the phone onto the worn wood deck with an impression clacking noise.

“Fuck,” he says as he inspects the phone. No new cracks.

“Hyung?” he can hear his friend asking and he remembers he’s on a call.

“Sorry, sorry, Jungkook-ah,” he says, putting the phone back to his ear. “Dropped the phone trying to find the house key. Wish this place had a keypad lock.”

“Maybe you can install one,” Jungkook says.

Namjoon hums noncommittally. Then smiles as he finds the key in the zipped back pocket of his shorts.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about staying.”

“No, no. It’s just,” Namjoon pauses as he lets himself through the door, toes off his shoes, and inhales deeply the smell of the previous owner the house hasn’t relinquished yet. “It’s just weird.”

“Well, you have time,” Jungkook says. “No need to rush any decisions.”

“I just,” Namjoon starts and flounders for the right word. “I feel like I’m a guest here. Like she’ll be back after a long weekend.”

His voice trails off as he looks around the living room. The furniture is worn and mismatched. An unwashed coffee mug still by her chair. Then his gaze lands on the simple wooden box on the mantle, housing her ashes.

“It just takes time, hyung,” the younger says on the phone.

“Time,” Namjoon replies absently. “Yeah.”

It takes another four weeks to stop feeling like a guest in the house that is now his. Namjoon can’t pinpoint exactly when the shift happened, it being so gradual. First, throwing out perishable food in the fridge past its due date. Then, emptying the cupboards of unexpired, unopened food Namjoon will never eat for the local food bank. Then, refilling the cabinets again with food procured from H-Mart in Seattle—the ferry ride being picturesque, but the whole day out just for food from home being exhausting. Then, the front hall coat closet is emptied to make room for some of Namjoon’s belongings, the previous occupant’s useful things being donated again to the local shelter. Then, Namjoon’s pretty beach rock and glass findings from his daily walks become a collection featured on the mantle, the wooden box removed to a safe place in an unused bedroom. Little by little, the old house that was once his grandmother’s pride and joy becomes Namjoon’s home.

Namjoon curses under his breath when the coffee pot apparently decides it no longer needs to make coffee. He looks forlornly at his empty mug. This won’t do at all.

He huffs as he pulls his tennis shoes and grabs the key from the dish on the little table by the door. He admires the blue and purple hydrangea and the pink sweet peas in full bloom as he walks down the winding path marked by pavers from the front porch to the road.

As he reaches the road, Namjoon turns left and starts walking towards the café and nursery. He passes a few houses, spread out with large yards all alive with plants and trees, their owners still asleep or in the midst of morning routines. The ocean breeze from off the bluff carries the soft sounds of waves on the shore and the smell of salt on the air that Namjoon finds comforting.

He walks up a long, steep hill at the end of the sleepy residential road feeling the burn in his glutes, which would bother him less if he’d been able to have his morning caffeine first. Maybe this means he’s earning a pastry with his coffee.

At the top of the hill, more trees and houses dot the way. Turning right, he walks another few minutes before he comes to a small, quiet village center. There is the coffee shop, garden nursery, post office, and small convenience store. He’s driven past this place many times, as it’s on the only road toward real civilization, but has never stopped in before. It’s cute. Quaint. A throwback to an era when neighbors know each other’s names and the coffee shop owner knows everyone’s orders before they arrive.

The coffee shop is equally cute and quaint inside as out. Chickens is apparently the theme. The motif carries through all of the décor and even into the naming of specialty drinks and baked goods. Namjoon stands in line and studies the chalkboard menu, trying to decide on what to order, brow wrinkling trying to decipher the meaning behind the various names.

“Maybe I can help you, sir?” the middle aged woman at the counter asks.

Namjoon steps up to the counter and puts on his best dimpled smile. Yes, help. He needs help. He asks, “Maybe you can tell me the difference between the Cluckuccino and the Eggpresso?”

The woman lets out a low chuckle, “Let me explain, the Cluckuccino is a latte with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, try the Eggpresso with an egg yolk!”

Namjoon wrinkled his nose in disgust before he can school his features into something more neutral, “I think for today I’ll just get a plain americano. Oh, and uh, blueberry scone, or whatever you call it.”

“The Clucky Blueberry Scone it is,” the woman says with a grin. “Anything else for you?”

“No, no, I think that’s good,” Namjoon says quickly.

“You got it,” the woman says. “That’ll be $12.45.”

Namjoon blinks at the price for a moment before he hands over his credit card. Forget cute chickens and themed village centers. It’s all a front for bandits and thieves. Highway robbery is what this is.

As he waits for his order, Namjoon takes in the surroundings. The coffee shop is cozy, with mismatched chairs and tables that look like they’ve been here since the 80s. There are shelves full of vintage knick-knacks and trinkets, and a sign hanging above the door that reads “Chickens Crossing.”

It doesn’t take long for his order to be ready and he leans into the door with an elbow, one hand grabbing tightly to his very hot americano and the other holding onto the bag with his scone. Namjoon thanks the woman before stepping back out into the sunshine. He decides to take his scone to go and explore the nursery next door.

He sticks to the outdoor portion of the grounds, with plants and flowers spilling out of pots and baskets with more of the same hanging from hooks screwed into large wooden frames. There’s no distinct aisles or really much rhyme or reason he can see for the layout, except for the obvious shade plants are under an arbor and the sun plants are out in the sun.

Towards the back of the nursery is a small metal table with two chairs. Grateful that it hadn’t rained last night, Namjoon sits on one of the chairs to enjoy his breakfast and caffeine.

For the outrageous price, the coffee was okay. The scone was good, clearly baked this morning with good ingredients. He’s still not sure it’s worth the price though.

A breeze blows through the garden carrying the smell of salt and tide with it. The leaves of the potted hydrangea in front of him—the blossoms on this one a brilliant pink color—shimmy and wave. Namjoon watches with a small sort of reverence. No wonder his grandmother had decided to stay here, in this place that was so far away from home.

“Oh, hello there,” a soft voice says. Namjoon turns to find the owner of the voice, thinking perhaps they are speaking to him.

But, it turns out, they are not speaking to him. A young Asian man, perhaps in his mid-20s, with auburn hair is bent over a tall stalk of a plant with large purple blossoms at the top. He’s wearing a dark green canvas apron over his fitting blue jeans and white tee-shirt, indicating he’s an employee.

“You’ve bloomed so beautifully,” the man continues, perhaps unaware he has an audience. “You’ve worked so hard. Good job.”

Namjoon can’t help but be a bit endeared by the man as he boosts the confidence of the flowers in front of him. He gives a brief start when he realizes he’s been listening to the man speak in Korean.

“Uh, hello,” Namjoon says in Korean, voice cracking a bit. After clearing his throat, he continues, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re Korean?”

The man whirls around with round eyes, mouth agape, hand clutching at his chest. “Oh, you startled me. I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, turning his lips down in a bit of a frown. “I just got excited to hear someone else speaking Korean. My brain gets so tired hearing English all day.”

The man breaks into a smile then and anything Namjoon might have said next vanishes from his mind. The smile is sparkly and warm, with his cheeks pushing his eyes up into adorable crescents. Namjoon feels a flush creep onto his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so glad to meet another Korean,” the man says. He bounces over and sits down gingerly in the other metal chair at Namjoon’s table. “I’m Park Jimin. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says, his smile working to match Jimin’s smile intensity. “Nice to meet you.”

“And, what do you do, Kim Namjoon?” Jimin asks with a cute tilt of his head.

“Ah, I’m a writer. Novels, mostly.”

“Oh, a writer! How exciting!” Jimin says with an enthusiastic energy. “Have you written anything I’ve read?”

“Uh,” Namjoon starts, mind trying to provide any book title of his. “I mostly write science fiction? My most sold book is probably ‘Spring Day.’ But don’t worry about it if you haven’t heard of it. I’m not really that famous.”

Namjoon feels his gut curling a bit in embarrassment as he rubs a palm across the back of his neck. When he glances at Jimin, he sees excitement in his eyes.

“Spring Day is your book? The one about time travel and a love story between two people from different eras?” Jimin asks eagerly.

“Uh, yeah,” Namjoon answers, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of the other.

“Oh, I love that book. The pure longing and sadness of two people who come from two different worlds,” Jimin says wistfully, looking over at the hydrangea. “I didn’t realize that was yours. I don’t think it’s published under the name Kim Namjoon, is it?”

“Ah, yeah, RM is my pen name. Early on, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to actually sell any of my stuff. I don’t know. I felt more confident being someone else.”

“Well, it’s amazing that, here, of all places, I am meeting you,” Jimin says with a smile. “Ah, I wish I had my copy. I’d ask for an autograph.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon says softly with a grin, still feeling a bit bashful. “That means a lot to me.”

Jimin leans back in his chair and looks around the garden with a contented sigh. “It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it? I love working in the nursery. It’s my dream job, really.”

Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee and nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s beautiful here. And you clearly have a talent for it. I saw you talking to those flowers earlier.”

Jimin blushes slightly at the compliment, a small smile on his lips. “I just love watching them grow and change. It’s like seeing your hard work pay off right in front of you.”

Namjoon takes another sip of his coffee, trying to calm the nerves that are fluttering in his chest. He’s both endeared and intrigued by the man in front of him.

“So, are you a tourist?” Jimin asks.

Namjoon startles out of his wandering thoughts. “A tourist? No. What makes you say that?”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “I’ve just never seen you here before. And I would definitely remember you.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks pinkening at Jimin’s comment. He clears his throat before he says, “I, uh, inherited a house down the road recently. So I’ve only been here for, uh, a month or so.”

“Oh! I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection before!” Jimin says excitedly again. “You’re Kwon Seulgi’s grandson.”

Namjoon nods, a little dumbfounded.

Jimin’s face falls a bit. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You knew her? My grandmother?” Namjoon asks.

“Yes, I would help her with her garden. It was hard for her, especially, you know, towards the end,” Jimin says.

Namjoon nods, familiar guilt curdling in his gut.

Jimin takes a deep breath and looks back at Namjoon, his smile returning. “But, it’s good to see the house is being taken care of. Your grandmother loved her home and really put herself into it.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, feeling a sense of pride. He says, “Yeah, I’m going to try my best to keep it up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jimin says with a reassuring smile. “And if you ever need any help with the garden or anything, just let me know. I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” Namjoon says gratefully. He takes one last gulp of his coffee before standing up from the table. “I should probably get going now, but it was really nice to meet you.”

Jimin stands up as well, his warm smile still plastered on his face. “It was really nice meeting you too, Namjoon-ssi. I hope we run into each other again soon.”

Namjoon nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Please call me hyung. And I hope so too. See you around, Jimin.”

As he walks away, Namjoon can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about the prospect of meeting Jimin again. Maybe, just maybe, in this strange land where coffee shops embody chicken puns and one has to spend a day traveling to get Korean ingredients, he has a potential new friend. Or more than a friend, the traitorous whisper in his mind says.

July and August on the island mean most days are filled with sun, which rises early and sets late in the evening. While the occasional overcast or foggy day occurs, most days are warm and dry.

Namjoon settles into a routine. He continues his morning walks down the hill to the beach where he wanders up and down the shoreline for at least an hour. He never tries to time it with the tide, so some days the tide is so far out the rocky shore gives way to truly sandy beach. Other times, the tide is so high, it’s lapping against the concrete seawall.

After his walks, he takes his light breakfast to the small front room he’s converted into his office. There, he tries to get a few hours of writing done, before he sets himself to the tasks of sorting through his grandmother’s possessions and fixing up the house.

Some of the days—the best days, if one were to ask Namjoon’s opinion—Jimin comes over in the late afternoon, after his shift at the nursery has finished. He works good-naturedly in the gardens of the house until the skies over Seattle are painted pink, orange, and purple, a reflection of the sunset happening behind the island.

As the sun goes down, Namjoon makes tea for the both of them and they sit on the porch drinking and admiring the view. Some nights they talk, sharing stories both innocuous and meaningful. Some nights they just sit in comfortable silence as the sky grows dark.

“I didn’t know her very well. Most of my memories are vague, from childhood. She somehow came into this house long before I was born,” Namjoon says into his cup of tea.

The sky is full of bursts of pink, purple, and orange over Seattle. The sun had been warm today, almost too hot, as Namjoon watched Jimin work on pruning back some trees from the comfort of his little front porch office. Now, though, as the sun begins to set, a cool breeze blows off the Puget Sound making the hot sun a distant memory.

“We would visit,” he continues, now watching the colors changing across the sky, “when I was little. So I have memories of running around this garden, looking for treasures.”

He laughs at the memory and glances at Jimin to see if he’s bored the younger man yet. Jimin gives him a soft smile.

“I would spend hours reading up in the apple trees,” Namjoon says and points down the yard to the gnarly old apple tree, now propped up by a two-by-four. “My grandmother started calling me Namu.”

“Namu,” Jimin tries it out quietly with a grin. “Can I call you Namu-hyung, then?”

Namjoon laughs, loud and bright in surprise. “Sure, Jimin-ah.”

Namjoon watches from his front office window as Jimin whispers to the peach blossomed water lily in the small pond off the deck of the house. Namjoon remembers helping digging out that pond when he was young, on one of his summer visits. Digging out the hole, laying tarp, nestling the lilies in their pots, filling the pond with water. He had wanted to get fish, but “we don’t need to feed the raccoons and herons, Namu-yah” was all his grandmother had said.

Namjoon tilts his head as he watches Jimin. He imagines—or at least he tells himself he is imagining it—the lilies bend their faces towards Jimin, as if eager to hear exactly what he has to say. Namjoon can relate.

“Do you ever regret?” Namjoon asks another night, after the sun is gone and the stars dot the sky. The stars are so bright here, despite the light from Seattle across the Sound. The Milky Way is a visible band across the heavens.

“Regret?” Jimin asks. Both their voices are low, as if they are afraid of disturbing the night. A frog croaks from the pond.

“Yeah, regret,” Namjoon echoes. He’s quiet for several minutes before he says, “Sometimes I regret the choices I made when I was younger. When I didn’t know what was going to be important to me later. Who was going to be important to me later.”

Jimin hums in thought. Somewhere, probably up on the main road, they can hear a car drive by.

“I don’t– I don’t think I regret,” Jimin says after another sip of his tea. “We can never know who or what will be important later. The best we can do is live for what is important now, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Namjoon says, swatting away a too-friendly moth. “I just– I wish I had spent more time with her, here, before she was too sick to know me.”

“She knew you,” Jimin says quietly with confidence. “She was your grandmother. I don’t think she’d want you regretting.”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says.

Another frog joins the first, creating a chorus of night sounds.

“I left my home,” Jimin says, voice sounding far away. “I lived by this river that ran off a mountain. I knew every tree, plant, animal. I knew each nob and bend in the river. But, after being there for so long, I felt like I needed to see more of the world.”

Namjoon hums and asks, “So you came here?”

“Well, first I ended up in Busan,” Jimin says with a chuckle. “That was the closest town to my river.”

“Ah, that explains the accent,” Namjoon says with a grin.

“Yes,” Jimin returns his grin. “Then, I guess, you could say, I let the wind blow me here.”

Namjoon laughs. “Must have been a strong wind to get you all the way across the ocean.”

Jimin smiles, all toothy with his eyes disappearing into his cheeks. “Well, I had an important person to meet.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks warm up and he turns his gaze determinately into the bottom of his empty tea cup. He clears his throat and murmurs, “Aish, is it really that late?”

Jimin laughs as he stands and takes Namjoon’s cup. “I’ll wash these before I go, Namu-hyung.”

He’s feeling good about the amount of words he got onto the page today. While he’s pretty sure most of them are garbage, he’s proud of himself for actually getting something out at all. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and peers out the window to the porch.

Jimin is leaning against the railing, facing the Sound, but his eyes are shut. Namjoon feels his breath catch for a moment. There is something so incredibly soft about the younger man—that makes him beautiful. The wind off the water plays with his hair and a smile graces his lips.

Namjoon runs to the kitchen to get two glasses of water, as an excuse to go out and stand with the other man.

“The weather is nice today,” Namjoon says, setting the glass down the railing next to Jimin.

“You know,” Jimin says, “there’s so much in this world we can’t see. But we know it’s there.”

Namjoon watches the soft expression on Jimin’s face, still turned into the breeze, his eyes still closed.

“We can’t see them, but they still change the world. The most important things we can’t see.” He raises his hand, palm out, as if feeling the breeze blow.

“Like the wind?” Namjoon asks.

“Like the wind,” Jimin agrees. “We only know it’s there because it’s changing things, moving things, changing the world around it.”

“Like music,” Namjoon thinks aloud.

“Music?” Jimin asks, opening his eyes and looking thoughtfully at Namjoon.

“We can’t see it, but it changes the world,” Namjoon says.

Jimin nods and turns to look back over the Sound, seemingly lost in thought. After a few minutes, he turns back to Namjoon and looks at him intently. He says, “Like love.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks burst into flames, but a smile grows on his face. He nods slowly. “Like love.”

“What do you say, when you’re whispering to the plants?” Namjoon asks. It’s overcast today and Jimin had mentioned it would probably rain tonight.

“You might not believe me,” Jimin says, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Try me,” Namjoon says, smiling, dimples on display. He finds he’s been smiling like this a lot lately.

Jimin sets his glass down on the little table they’ve set out for their little tea breaks. He turns his body so he’s facing Namjoon from his chair.

“I am casting spells,” he says. His face is serious, but his eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Spells,” Namjoon deadpans.

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me!” Jimin says, clearly trying to look hurt but failing.

Namjoon looks around the yard. All the plants look incredibly happy and healthy. Everything is overflowing with blooms and fruit. He turns back to look at Jimin again, starting to question, just a little bit.

“Spells,” Namjoon says again, this time it almost sounds like a question.

Jimin’s face lights up with his smile. He laughs a little as he says, “Spells. Really!”

“If you say so, I’ll believe you,” Namjoon laughs.

“You know how I said I lived by a river?” Jimin asks, voice sobering.

Namjoon shifts in his chair sensing the change in mood. He nods and watches as Jimin bites his bottom lip.

“Well, I was, how would you say this? I was the guardian?”

“Guardian?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin makes a small, frustrated noise in his throat. “I don’t know the word for it. I was a spirit guardian.”

“Spirit guardian,” Namjoon echoes, brows furrowed.

Jimin nods, looking a bit nervous as he eyes Namjoon. “I was a guardian of the river for hundreds of years. But, I wanted to see the world. I wanted to see the things everyone who traveled on my river talked about. So– so, I became human.”

Namjoon blinks. “You’re serious.”

Jimin nods, eyes now trained on the deck in front of him.

“Hundreds of years,” Namjoon says absently.

“But only 27 human years! So, you’re still my hyung, Namu-hyung,” Jimin says quickly, gaze flickering over the other man’s face before settling over the Sound.

“Did you get to see it?” Namjoon asks.

“What?” Jimin looks back at Namjoon, brows pinched together.

“The world,” Namjoon explains. “You said you wanted to see it. But you’ve been here, in this garden all summer.”

“Oh,” Jimin says, looking at Namjoon wide-eyed. “Well, yes, I traveled around for most of my twenties. Then I found myself here. Like I said, the wind sends messages. It brought me here. To you.”

His last words are a whisper.

“I’m glad,” Namjoon says.

Jimin looks at him in question.

“I’m glad you got to see the world,” Namjoon clarifies. He reaches out across the table in between them and takes one of Jimin’s hands. Despite his working in dirt and shrubbery all day, Jimin’s hands are soft and small in Namjoon’s. After reveling in the warmth for a moment, he adds, “And that you found your way here. To me.”

Namjoon looks at the vase of flowers, cut from his own garden, and arranged by Jimin, as it sits on his desk. A large blue hydrangea blossom hangs to one side, light peach colored rose and dark purple dahlia blossoms crowd the rest of the space. It rained overnight and the deck is wet still.

He hears a knock at the door to his office. He wheels himself around and then stands to open the door. Jimin is standing with a smile on his face, auburn hair pushed off his forehead, still a bit damp.

“Were you out in the rain?” Namjoon asks.

“Only on the walk here,” Jimin says with a large smile.

“Let me get you a towel,” Namjoon says as he grabs Jimin’s shoulders and turns him around back into the house. “And some hot tea. Can’t have you catching a cold.”

Jimin giggles—a beautiful sound like tinkling wind chimes, Namjoon thinks—and lets Namjoon manhandle him back into the living room.

“You can’t get a cold just from walking in the rain,” Jimin laughs. “That’s just myth. A little rain is good for you. Especially if you’re a former river spirit.”

Namjoon laughs at that, but still guides Jimin into the kitchen. “Well, then, how about I don’t want you dripping on my floors?”

“Ah, the real reason comes to light,” Jimin says with a nod. Then he giggles again. Namjoon thinks he might lose his mind in the endearing adorableness.

After he’s dry, wrapped in a comforter with a warm cup of tea in his hand, they stand together in the kitchen looking out the window. The rain picked up again while Namjoon was fussing over the kettle.

“The plants will be happy,” Jimin says. “It’s been very warm this season.”

Namjoon bites back his political commentary about global warming and capitalism. Not the time, he thinks. Not when Jimin has that endearing smile on his face.

“Drink up, friends, drink up,” Jimin whispers, eyes trained on the garden out the window. He turns to look at Namjoon with a large grin. “A spell, see?”

Namjoon nods, brain short-circuiting. Without another thought, he leans forward and brushes his lips along Jimin’s, still warm from the tea. Jimin gives a small, startled noise, but doesn’t pull away.

Namjoon pulls away far enough to get Jimin’s face into focus and asks, “I– Was– was that okay?”

Jimin nods, biting his lower lip with a grin.

“Can I–” Namjoon cuts himself off with a swallow.

“Kiss me again, Namu-hyung,” Jimin whispers.

Another spell, Namjoon thinks, before he leans in for another kiss.

Namjoon comes back from a walk on the beach to find Jimin busy weeding under the bushes near the deck, morning glory intent on taking over everything uninvited. Jimin’s figure is illuminated by the mid-morning sun, his slender frame bending to pull weeds from the soil. He’s surrounded by vibrant green plants swaying softly in the wind, some reaching out to him as if begging for attention. The overhang of grape vines that hang from the metal arbor creates a dappled shade of sun and shadow on his skin, and the rhododendron bushes seem to be leaning in closer, as if they too want a bit of his attention. Jimin is humming to himself, a soft melody that is carried on the fresh summer breeze, mingling with the scent of the Sound. The chirping of birds and buzzing of bees intermingle with Jimin’s melody, creating a tranquil harmony in the air. Another kind of spell, perhaps.

Not many of the trees surrounding the property turn for the fall, being evergreen, but the apples are finally harvested and those not turned into sauce and preserves are taken to the neighbors and the local shelter. Autumn feels well underway and the last of the hot, sunny days have passed.

Hovhaness’s Mount St. Helens Symphony plays on the living room speakers, as Namjoon and Jimin snuggle together on one of the worn couches, watching the sunset. Everything about them is soft and slow. Namjoon wouldn’t want it any other way.

Jimin, whose back is half-resting on Namjoon’s chest, turns his head and tilts it up for a kiss. Namjoon obliges by meeting him the rest of the way and giving him a languid kiss. Soft and slow.

The room mostly looks the same as when Namjoon moved in, until closer inspection. His rock and sea glass collection takes up most of the mantle. A better stereo system takes up home on the far wall with surround speakers installed in the corners of the room’s ceiling. Only recently, Namjoon finally washed and put away his grandmother’s coffee cup. The house mostly smells of Namjoon now.

Later, they settle again with fresh cups of sleepytime tea, Jimin resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I have to leave for a while,” Jimin says.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asks, brow wrinkling.

“It’s my birthday soon. I have to, uh, go back home. Just for a little while,” he says.

“Oh.”

“I have to check in on– on the river,” Jimin says, voice low. “It’s sort of part of the deal for being here the rest of the time. Plus, my parents insist on seeing me in-person.”

“I see.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jimin murmurs.

“Come here, when you get back,” Namjoon says.

Jimin tilts his face to see Namjoon’s. “Of course, Namu-hyung.”

“No, I mean,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Come live here, when you get back. Live here, with me.”

“Oh.”

“If you want,” Namjoon quickly adds.

Jimin relaxes his head again, his cheeks comfortably against Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon can feel his smile.

“I’d like that.”

Namjoon feels the hole of Jimin’s absence. However, instead of moping and feeling sorry for himself, he decides to finally finish cleaning out the house. Certain items are saved and put in special places, to commemorate the previous owner and her place in the current tenants’ hearts. Everything else is clean and donated or taken to the dump. Namjoon feels lighter than he has since moving in.

Space is made for Jimin—closet space, shelf space, his own room, if he wants. The whole house feels like it’s getting ready for new life.

Namjoon goes to the nursery at the top of the road one day when the sun happens to be shining. He wanders through the outdoor plants and then heads inside to see what else there is for sale.

Sitting near the counter is a table of small bonsai trees. He picks up one with a single trunk and a few branches, small leaves precariously clinging on.

“That blooms lovely purple flowers in the spring,” the woman standing at the register says.

“Is caring for it difficult?” Namjoon asks, eyeing the little tree.

“I’ll throw a care guide with it, if you like,” the woman says with a smile.

The door at the front of the store opens, the little bell at the top jingling. A brisk breeze follows through the store, seemingly excited to have found its way into the warmth as much as the customers.

Namjoon watches as the little leaves sway momentarily. He can put his beach rock collection under it, he thinks.

“I’ll take it,” he says, moving to the counter. He eyes the little tree again. “And any and all guides you might have.”

“Namu-hyung!”

Namjoon hears the shout before he sees the man shouting. The airport is packed. Neither he nor Jimin had accounted for the Thanksgiving holiday when booking the flight. Everywhere Namjoon looks there are people, pushing through the crowds with carry-on bags and suitcases in tow. Lines of people snake out from ticket booths and security checkpoints, while families and friends reunite with luggage is scattered here and there, adding to the general chaos. The whir of rolling suitcases and the occasional call of an announcement can be heard above the din. The airport is bursting with activity and everyone seems to be in a rush to get somewhere.

Finally, through the mass of people, he sees familiar auburn hair sticking out from under a black beanie. He’s wearing comfortable sweats and a hoodie, pulling a worn rolling suitcase haphazardly behind him. He races towards Namjoon, eyes wide and filled with joy and anticipation, face beaming, and throws himself into Namjoon’s arms.

“Jimin-ah, I hope your flight was okay,” Namjoon says into Jimin’s neck. He wraps his arms tightly around the other, one hand grasping the back of Jimin’s hoodie and the other embracing the back of his head, holding him tight.

He hears Jimin sniffle. “There was some turbulence. It was fine.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Namjoon says. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hyung.”

“I thought we’d pick some food up at the H-Mart on the way to the ferry, unless you’re too tired,” Namjoon says.

Jimin shakes his head. “I slept on the plane.”

“Alright, let’s go home then,” Namjoon says with a smile.

Jimin brushes the tears Namjoon pretends not to see away from his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

It’s cold, but clear as the water pulls away from the rocks on the beach making its now-familiar sk sk sk sound. The water glimmers and sparkles in the winter sunlight. Seaweed cling to rocks, while seagulls fight over some shelled sea creature in the distance. An old, dilapidated set of pilings—great tall timber, now rotted and barnacle covered—stand out of the water, cormorants pose on the tops with their wings outstretched, drying in the sunshine.

Jimin has been back now for three weeks. This is only the second day since his return that it hasn’t rained. The first non-rainy day, they came down to the beach to the small part of the bank that belongs to the property, where once stairs had gone from the top to the bottom, allowing his grandmother easier access to the water. They had washed away many years ago now, the bank constantly eroding into the Sound. Namjoon and Jimin sat on a washed up log to watch the tide roll in and eventually spread his grandmother’s ashes into the water, letting her forever be a part of the island that she loved so much.

Now, taking the opportunity of the sun shining again, Namjoon walks hand in hand with Jimin, stepping out of the way of the water as it rolls softly back towards them. The wind blows in from across the Sound, carrying the scent of salt and tide. As leans into his frame a bit, probably to steal some of his warmth, Namjoon bends down to kiss Jimin’s temple. When he straightens up again, giving Jimin’s hand a squeeze, he thinks he hears the message on the wind, “Welcome home.”

[something-in-your-walls]

I am worried about Ree.

In canon, he and his brother would have literally fucking died if not for CU’s interference…

And they get shot with paint.

Besides the Camoflush episode (presumably) going the same way, what about Splotch?

In canon, Splotch took over Mr. Ree's body, so that probably still happens here.

Major Messy is going to be sad, poor older brother ;v;

And do the Melvins still get brainwashed here? That moment was so scary. season 2 of epic tales was so f'd up (I think you know a certain bee episode that I’m talking about. *shudders*)

Then George and Harold will have to tell CU that "Melvin is suffering a bad case of Bruce Wayne Held Hostage, so we have to take on his role".

again, george and harold NEVER find out that melvin and captain are in kahoots. for all they know, melvin knows captain as well as they do, aka, BARELY. and yes, splotch does happen! the difference in the sk au is that the melvins don't care about the society of robes. melvin has ended up putting academics on the backburner (i know, shocking), accepting that he can't go to elitinati if he wants to 'fix' captain, so his fantasies, such as the society of robes, are ALSO put on the backburner. borg, on the other hand, knows and understands EXACTLY what his younger self's intentions are, and lets him do what he needs to do. borg in general is kinda a supervisor, making sure things play out as they need to, but also helping out when things get too messy for his younger self to handle alone. giving him a little nudge in the right direction, if you will. anyways back to the point. since the melvins don't care about robecon, they won't be wearing robes, and therefore can't be controlled. so no, the melvins most likely don't get brainwashed. as for the bee episode... they become zombees because they stir honey in their tea. ...sk melvin drinks coffee mixed with energy drinks and nyquil. ...need i say more?

[procrastinatingdragonfly]

Stray Kids High Fantasy AU

“I was sad and my friends made me write AUs” pt. 53

Chan: 

Wizard apprentice extraordinaire

Powerful conjurer, mostly deals in summoning elemental spirits and small illusionistic tricks

His alchemy teacher’s least favorite student, because how did he blow up the laboratory making a health potion

Woojin: 

A dwarf, lives under a mountain but wants to get out and explore the world

Laughs a lot, warm hugs, can hold his alcohol

Makes small metal trinkets and knows rudimental enchantments to put on them

Minho:

Wood elf

Most capable hunter of his village, has about ten thousand different nicknames for how swift and silent and cool he is

Has adopted Felix 

Changbin: 

A grumpy old inventor 

Locked himself up in some basement making potions and building small mechanisms that no one knows how to work or interpret 

Paranoid towards everyone except the Hyunjin kid who sometimes barges in his basement to hide or remind him to eat 

Hyunjin: 

Engages in more questionable magic 

Necromancer, diviner, reads the stars and knows exactly how to curse someone with cards and a sigyl

Kind of on the run from a lot of different authorities

Jisung: 

Your average human village boy 

On the run from a life of boredom 

Made friends with a goblin

Felix: 

Halfbreed; his mother was a High Elf, his father a Wood Elf

Can talk to animals and spends 90% of his time doing exactly so 

Lives in the woods, and used to be bullied a lot for his magical abilities and his terrible proficiency in long-range weapons

Seungmin: 

Artsy gnome,sweet flower boy about as tall as a bush

His magic might be able to create dancing lights but the only light you need is his smile

Once burned a village accidentally

Jeongin: 

Goblin child, precious child

He’s not evil he swears!! 

Just wants to be an adventurer

[ask-fantasy-sk-cz-blog]

“Welcome to the Marigold kingdom, traveler. Before you enter the castle, we must ask you a few questions.” ”If anything confuses you, feel free to ask us some questions as well!”

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- Part of the Hetalia Fantasy AU (@fantasyhetaliahub)

- Hedvika Svoboda (APH Czechia) and Dalibor Láska (APH Slovakia)

- Occupation: Castle Guards

- Kingdom/alignment: Marigold

- Mun: Manuka, she/her pronouns (main: @viva-la-hetalia-everyone )

- This blog may contain topics and images that make people uncomfortable, and will be tagged appropriately

- Ask box is open!

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