Super Junior Pornathon Entries
So this was what I was doing for the past eight weeks. Writing fics for the Super Junior Pornathon. So much fun, and I made it onto their hall of fame! The fics I wrote are all under the cuts.
Week 1: World Legends AU
Title: Cruel Golden Eyes
Pairing(s): Kyuhyun/Donghae
Genre(s): dark!fic, wolf!AU
Length: 751 words
Donghae used to be a romantic who believed that love was all about sappy songs and red roses, romantic dinner dates and long walks on the beach, sweet tender kisses during the day and slow passionate love-making at night. He had imagined himself giving his whole heart to a person with whom he could settle down in his little rural hometown and raise dozens of beautiful smiley children.
But then he met Kyuhyun. Devil incarnate, beastly terror, Kyuhyun roamed the surrounding forest like a ghost in a graveyard.
Gone were Donghae’s dreams of serenading from the courtyard or writing heartfelt letters about life and love and beauty. His mind was corrupted with thoughts of thick black fur and golden eyes and sharp white fangs stained with fresh blood.
There were stories around town about a hungry lone wolf that fed off of helpless children and reckless travelers, scarcely leaving a drop of blood behind. Every time he heard of those stories, he could not restrain the bitter laugh from all the irony. Kyuhyun the Wolf was frightening, there was no arguing that, but Donghae knew that Kyuhyun the Human was even more terrifying. His skin was pale, unnervingly pale, which contrasted with the darkness of his unkempt hair that covered his eyes. He was as skinny as a skeleton and as emaciated as a corpse, having lived on the brink of starvation for most of his life. The broody man was a wild soul-he belonged to nobody, golden eyes void of emotions other than anger and lust as he smirked nonchalantly at his prey.
Donghae thought he was beautiful despite his sallow skin, messy tuft of hair, and protruding ribs.
He never saw Kyuhyun during the day. They always met at night under a full moon, where Kyuhyun would sneak into Donghae’s bedroom in his human form, gruffly wake him up, guide him deep into the forest, and ultimately fuck him senseless. Kyuhyun was ruthless beyond all measure, and each time they met Donghae wondered how he ever managed to survive in once piece. No slow love-making under the night sky-this was raw, intense, animalistic fucking. Ragged breaths, broken cries, beads of sweat despite the freezing temperatures. Crows cackled overhead from the commotion, and Donghae’s injured voice echoed through the tree branches. Nothing was held back, nothing was restrained, bruises, blood, pain, pleasure. Donghae desperately took it all in, praying that he did not break into a million pieces.
When they were finished, heart rates finally slowing to a steady beat, Kyuhyun would pull back, run off a few meters, and let out a blood-curdling howl that resonated throughout the forest, sending petrified shivers down every tree bark. Donghae would then watch in fear and awe as his lover melted into a transitional wolf-human hybrid and into his true form-a lethal creature of the night. Replacing Kyuhyun’s pale skin was a coat of impenetrable black fur, and instead of that nonchalant smirk there were bloodthirsty fangs strong enough to rip open another animal’s intestines like thin paper. Long limbs became powerful legs, hands and feet transformed into large nimble paws. With one last glance at a shivering Donghae, the wolf would surge back into the darkness where he belonged, not to be seen as human again until the next full moon.
Donghae always woke up safely in his bed the next morning wondering whether it was just a dream, but the bruises on his hips and the cuts on his chest told the deadly truth. Seduced by the devil was he.
Sometimes, late at night curled up in his bed, Donghae and the rest of the townspeople would hear a howl against the paleness of the moon, celebrating a kill freshly caught.
While others would quiver with fear or rush out with their guns, Donghae merely pulled his covers tighter and smiled bitterly.
They could try all they wanted; it would never be of any use. Kyuhyun feasted on those who entered his territory during the night, whether it was a man or woman or child. He ran with the chilling wind, faster than any bullet, and evaded all vengeful human eyes like an apparition.
Just stay out of the forest, Donghae thought grimly, knowing that those who braved the forest with their rifles would never return. Stay out and you’ll be fine.
Donghae would shiver at the realization that his once-romantic thoughts had become cruel, as cruel as the golden eyes that haunted him every full moon.
Week 1 Bonus: Music
Song: Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen (lyrics)
Reason: Whenever I think of the word “gentleman”, I automatically think of Siwon and Gentleman Mimi. I think those two would be the best at the “good old fashioned lover boy” persona.
Pairing: Siwon/Zhou Mi
If there was one thing that Siwon was good at doing, it was being a gentleman. He talked eloquently, not too forceful, not too timid; he was well-rounded, with a broad knowledge that encompassed literature and politics and art; and most importantly, he had manners that made him come off as neither a slob nor a snob.
Honestly, Zhou Mi was impressed. As a gentleman himself, he had high standards when it came to romance, and Siwon seemed to meet all of them-exceed them at times. He sang love songs, wrote heartfelt letters, and called just to hear your voice. He was never late for their dates and always arrived at Zhou Mi’s doorstep with a polished car, and despite Zhou Mi’s objections Siwon insisted on paying the bills.
By the fifth date, Zhou Mi had come to admire the man who was so impeccable in his gentlemanly ways. Siwon had surprised him with a candlelit dinner on the roof of an Italian restaurant, and as cheesy as it sounded, Zhou Mi had to agree that it was probably the most romantic setting any man could ever hope for. They talked about their lives over a plate of delicious home-cooked spaghetti, and chatted about their childhood dreams over a glass of wine. Things were going perfectly, and Zhou Mi was beside himself with giddiness.
“Do you know how to tango, Siwon?” he asked coyly.
“Tango?”
“Yes, tango,” Zhou Mi giggled, face red from the wine. “It’s a type of dance.”
“I learn quickly,” Siwon shrugged, raising his hand and guiding his date into the middle of the rooftop. “I learned how to waltz when I was younger.”
“Impressive,” the Chinese man chirped, quirking an eyebrow as he leaned his head closer. “Shall I lead?”
Siwon’s cheeks reddened. “Certainly.”
They danced well into the night, no music needed to guide their steps. The soles of their feet were sore by the end of their date, but Zhou Mi never stopped smiling and Siwon never stopped blushing. In fact, Zhou Mi almost felt bad for all the other men and women who would never experience the thrill of being romanced by a guy like Siwon. It was a shame, really. The world really needed a lot more good old fashioned lover boys.
Week 2: Kink Grab Bag
Title: make my body scream, you’re the star of my wet dream
Pairing(s): Han Geng/Heechul
Genre(s): comedy
Kinks: food, orgasm denial, lingerie
Length: 755 words
For Han Geng, who had previously taken the fact that he was heterosexual for granted, getting used to thinking of his best friend slash confidante as a sexual being was proving to be extremely taxing.
At first, Han Geng just noticed little things, like how Heechul looked nice with long red hair and had a really cute butt. Then he started to notice how Heechul always sucked his finger after eating pastries, or how he threw his head back when he laughed, or how he always came out of the shower with only a towel wrapped low around his thin waist. The worst came eventually, and honest to god, it scared the living bejeezus out of Han Geng: since when had he ever tried to picture what Heechul looked like naked on a daily basis?
The dreams came soon enough, and every morning, Han Geng would wake up with messy sheets and a fragment of a wet dream that made him blush three shades of red at once. Sometimes his wet dreams were intense and steamy, like the one where Heechul forcefully drove Han Geng’s shoulders into the bed as he rutted against him like an Energizer Bunny on Gatorade. Less frequently, they were romantic and heartfelt, complete with the love confession and candles and rose petals. But more often than he would like to admit, they were just plain stupid: it could have been Heechul innocently sucking on a banana and Han Geng getting the biggest and most embarrassing hard-on ever to be seen in the history of Biggest Embarrassing Hard-Ons. Han Geng planned on taking every one of those dreams to the grave.
Weirdly enough, Han Geng’s most recurrent wet dream featured Siwon. Han Geng would be in a coffee shop, sinking into one of those sinfully comfortable couches while Siwon talked about religion and marriage and other Good Catholic Schoolboy topics on the other side of the table. Unbeknownst to the latter, however, Han Geng was being tortured by the fact that just beyond Siwon’s head, Heechul was tending to the cash register dressed in fucking underwear. Not just any underwear, either: frilly fucking underwear. And no matter how much Han Geng tried to deny it, the sight of Heechul’s barely covered ass turned him on like nothing else and no amount of boring discussions with Siwon could stop the tent that formed in his pants.
He felt like a goddamn teenager every time he woke up.
As to be expected, Han Geng could never be alone in the same room with Heechul without being reminded of the fact that his subconscious wanted to fuck him until his legs gave out. He also couldn’t talk to his best friend slash confidante without analyzing every word exchanged between them. Heechul’s make me rice was processed as take off your clothes. All of his usual your Korean sucks! comments suddenly became I want your cock or variations thereof. Moreover, every time the elder ordered him to close the damn lights already, Han Geng interpreted that as fuck me now before I rip your balls off. The dual meanings drove Han Geng insane, to the point where he actually did a desperate Google search for a reference guide called What He Really Means: Heechul Edition (and cried when there were no hits).
All suffering comes to an end, however, and Han Geng’s suffering ended on a Tuesday, otherwise known as Fuck You Laundry Day. Ironically, Han Geng loved Fuck You Laundry Day, most likely because he loved the feel of clothes fresh from the dryer. Heechul, on the other hand, loathed Fuck You Laundry Day, which was where the name originally came from.
Han Geng usually spent Fuck You Laundry Day listening to Heechul bitch about sunlight and cat hair, so the sight of Heechul stripping down to his undergarments after spilling soap everywhere caught him by surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes bulging out of his sockets.
“Having an epic lightsaber duel with Mr. Clean,” Heechul spat, muttering something about stupid pet shop owners and non-shedding cat breeds. “What did you think I was doing?”
He definitely needed that reference guide. “Getting ready to push me against the wall with the intention of having sex that is illegal in fifteen different countries?” he guessed.
Heechul stopped in his tracks. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” he cried, promptly shoving Han Geng against a washing machine. “That sounds infinitely better than doing laundry all day.”
Well, who could argue with that logic?
Week 3: Horror AU
Title: and the cat turned to smoke
Pairing(s): Heechul/Leeteuk
Genre(s): murder!AU
Length: 750 words
If he followed his routine, they all ended up dismembered in a garbage bag at the bottom of a river, or in a dumpster if there was no river within a three-hour drive. Heechul usually picked them up at clubs, inebriated men or women who easily succumbed to a witty catchphrase and charming quirk of an eyebrow, and coaxed them back to his hotel room. There, he proceeded to fuck them until they writhed with pleasure, effectively slitting their throats the moment they achieved orgasm.
His next victim was a man in his late twenties, but Heechul knew from the start that he was different. The man possessed the most stunning pair of eyes-dark in color but bright in texture, soft in demeanor but fierce in his gaze-and while it was apparent he was drunk, intelligence still lingered in his system, unaffected by the alcohol.
“May I buy you a drink?” Heechul asked, flashing his signature smirk as he slid into the seat beside his prey.
“Knock yourself out,” the man shrugged, running a pale hand through his dyed blond hair. “I’m out of money anyway.”
Heechul chuckled, a Cheshire cat grin enveloping his face as he fished out a wad of cash. “Rough day?”
The man giggled, hiccupped, wheezed out a laugh as a pint was thrust towards him. “That’s one way of putting it. More like went through a complete mindfuck.”
“A complete mindfuck, huh?” Heechul rested his chin on his knuckles, watched as the blond downed the drink in one go. “What’s your name?”
The man blinked owlishly. “Call me Jungsu.”
From there, the pair started to talk, topics spanning from politics to neuroscience to bird-watching flowing between them in a constant rush of ideas and opinions. By the time Heechul brought him back to his hotel room, they had talked for four hours straight. An impressive feat-it was not often somebody could hold his attention for so long with mere words.
Heechul fucked him slowly, gently, relishing the feel of bare skin against skin. Sensing the other’s breath quicken, Heechul gradually reached for the knife he hid in the drawer of the side table, a smile playing on his lips when he felt the handle. So close, the vein in Jungsu’s neck jutted out as he tensed, vulnerable, eyes screwed shut.
Almost, almost.
Suddenly, Jungsu lifted his eyelids. Those stunning eyes bore a hole into Heechul, leaving him frozen, unable to do anything but stare straight back. Almost involuntarily he unwound his fingers from the knife handle, opting to have them curl around the back of Jungsu’s head and bring those stunning eyes closer, closer. Heechul came within seconds, never blinking.
When they finished, they talked some more, both naked under the dirty sheets as they discussed religion and golf and art as the first rays of the sun peeked through the window.
It was 6:30 A.M. when they finally got up to dress.
“Back to the complete mindfuck?”
Jungsu smiled, a dimple forming on his right cheek. “You can say that.”
They shared a laugh, so natural and easy. Heechul pressed a chaste kiss onto Jungsu’s lips, warmed at how domestic it felt. “It was nice meeting you, Jungsu.”
The blond blushed, attempted to hide a smile, failed.
Heechul’s eyes softened. “I have to check out now. Stay as long as you like, or until the staff members kick you out.” He only took three steps towards the door before hearing the cock of a gun. He stopped in his tracks.
“This is Detective Park Jungsu. You are under arrest for first degree murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law.”
Heechul sighed, feeling the hard edge of the gun pressed against the back of his head. “I had a feeling you were too good to be true.”
“I’m sorry.” There was regret in the detective’s voice. “I knew who you were the moment you walked into that club.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
“Why didn’t you?”
The murderer shrugged. “I don’t know. Why did you follow me to my hotel room when you knew what I was planning?”
“I don’t know.”
“We sure have a lot in common.”
“We do,” Jungsu agreed, sighing wistfully. “In another life, we would have been really good friends.”
Heechul smiled at the thought, and didn’t struggle when Jungsu snapped the handcuffs into place.
Week 3 Bonus: 5 Random Words
Title: Pigs In A Truck
Pairing(s): none
Genre(s): psychological, angst, war!AU
Length: 406 words
Words: soldier, poem, wagon, diver, pocketwatch
Jungsu was driving when he spotted a truck filled with pigs on their way to the butcher shop to be massacred into pork chops and soups and dried snacks. He imagined how it must feel, being a pig, being a deceivingly intelligent and emotional animal. He imagined how it must feel to be one of the pigs in that particular truck, squished together with his comrades on a bumpy wagon, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but accept the fact that he was merely another pig for another human to eat.
It made Jungsu sick to his stomach. There are only pigs, he mentally chanted to himself. Only pigs, nothing more.
But they weren’t just pigs. They were living breathing creatures, just like his men were before they all died protecting their country-the fourteen members of the troop that Jungsu trained and led into battle. All of them were enthusiastic, beautiful people, each with enough courage and bravery to put the rest of the war effort to shame. All of them loved and trusted Jungsu with their lives.
All of them, dead, because Jungsu failed to see the shells that exploded beneath their feet.
He killed them, all fourteen of them, men that he was supposed to lead and protect. Just like those pigs, who were raised up under the protection of strange humans only to be slaughtered indiscriminately for their meat. Their deaths were acknowledged, but not commemorated. They didn’t even have time to bury them before moving onto their next course of action. Just left them there to rot, a feast for maggots and flies.
He remembered their faces, each and every one of them. He remembered how they screamed before going silent-too silent. He remembered how his ears rung when the ground beside him blew up in a volcanic eruption, taking his soldiers with it. He remembered seeing a leg on the ground, torn from the rest of the body, remembered wondering whose leg it was just before he passed out.
Jungsu pulled over, watched the truck drive off, screamed, sobbed, broke down. Those pigs, his men, they were innocent creatures; they did not deserve to be killed like that. They did not deserve to be blinded by blood, tortured from pain, subjected to a life as mass produce.
In the end, we are all just pigs, aren’t we?
Just pigs in a truck, waiting for death.
Week 4: Crossovers Challenge
Title: a battle unseen
Pairing(s): Heechul/Han Geng
Fandom: Animorphs
Length: 755 words
Genre(s): sci-fi, romance
Han Geng sometimes wished that his life was normal, that he had a normal family, went to a normal school, hung out with normal friends, and dealt with normal problems. Sometimes he wished that the Ellimist had never presented him with the blue cube that gave him the power to morph into any animal he touched. Sometimes he wished that he was not one of the two people on the Eastern front actively fighting against the Yeerk invasion. Sometimes he wished that he never knew about extraterrestrials like the gentle Hork-Bajir or hunger-driven Taxxons or intelligent Andalites. Sometimes, he wished that he was still human, not a wolf nothlit.
These were rare occasions, though.
If he was not a wolf, he would still be living with his violent alcoholic father. If he was not morph-capable, he would easily have been subjected to slavery by the Yeerks. Most importantly, if he was not fighting for freedom, he would have never met Heechul.
Beautiful, dangerous Heechul, the reason why Han Geng never regretted choosing a life of war.
Even as a human, Heechul was strong. Faced with danger, he showed no fear, no hesitation. He lived by Nike’s just do it approach, a tornado of bravery and ferociousness.
In their old lives, they attended the same high school. Han Geng was the foreigner, the loser who got beat up and shoved into lockers. Heechul was part of the popular group, the guy that all the girls wanted and all the boys questioned their sexualities for. In another lifetime, they probably would have never met, would have never fallen in love.
The thought made Han Geng sick with dread. He would never exchange Heechul’s love for anything. There was nothing like the exhilaration of riding the thermals high above the ground as a bald eagle; the joy of surging from the water as a dolphin; the excitement of running through the forest at the speed of a wolf. But nothing-nothing!-could compare to doing all that and more with the love of his life.
Han Geng had lost count how many times he found himself wanting to kiss the ground knowing that a smart strong-willed guy named Heechul loved him. Every kiss made his heart flutter, every touch made his skin tingle, every laugh made his face redden. They acquired animal DNA together, intimately experienced the inner workings of every creature they morphed, laughed whenever the animal instincts got the better of them. The night they first made love was the night Han Geng first experienced perfection. In that moment, his alcoholic father and the school bullies did not matter, all of his burdens were stripped away. In that moment, his life was perfect.
However, with happiness comes pain, and with power comes responsibility. Their ability to morph was their ultimate weapon against the extraterrestrial threat, and together they fought numerous battles, saw each other get slashed into bloody messes by Yeerk-controlled troops, forced themselves to keep fighting, keep breathing, keep going. Every battle was a close call, every combat was a step away from death, every pulse was one heartbeat from stopping.
One fateful attack on a Yeerk pool left Han Geng unable to revert from his wolf form within the two-hour limit, leaving him a nothlit, trapped in his own morph. He had never figured out if this incident was intentional or accidental-perhaps he had gotten addicted to the resilience the life as a wolf offered, with its keen sense of smell and acute hearing, its nimble gait and powerful spring.
The Ellimist gave him one last chance, restoring his morphing ability and allowing him to morph into a human with the wolf being his main form. Han Geng lived in the forest from then on, satisfied with his life that consisted of prowling the forest, hunting for food, and protecting his territory. It was simple, primeval.
It often upset Heechul how comfortable Han Geng was as a wolf. “Sometimes I want to do normal things,” he would say, weary. “I want to go to the movies with you without worrying about some fucking two-hour limit!”
“We’re in a war. If I’m human, I can’t fight.”
“I don’t want you to fight!” Heechul would scream before bursting into tears. “I want you safe!”
“We’ll never be safe until the Yeerks are defeated.”
If they survived and if Heechul still loved him when the war ended, Han Geng wouldn’t hesitate. He would morph to human and stay that way.
Until then, he would keep fighting.
Week 4 Bonus: Kid!Fic
Title: in which youngwoon and jungsu meet over angry birds
Pairing(s): Kangin/Leeteuk
Length: 490 words
If there was one question Jungsu had not been expecting from his three sons, it was Daddy, how did you meet Papa?. Thankfully, he and Youngwoon had already prepared an answer a long time ago. A very simple straightforward answer that they were sure the kids would buy.
“Papa and I went to the same college, sweetie,” Jungsu answered smoothly. “We had many of the same classes, but we never talked to each other until graduation day where your Papa confessed to me at the end of the ceremony.”
The youngest son, Kibum, blinked owlishly. He accepted the answer without question, without a sound.
The middle son, Ryeowook, blushed with delight. “Was the confession all sweet and lovey-dovey?”
“You sure bet it was,” Jungsu grinned.
Satisfied, Kibum and Ryeowook waddled off to continue playing with their Lego sets.
Only the oldest son Heechul remained, a wry look on his intelligent face. “That is totally not what happened, isn’t it?” he smirked.
The father thought back twenty years.
(What really happened:
True, Jungsu and Youngwoon went to the same college. And true, they never talked despite having many of the same classes. Jungsu was the top student; Youngwoon barely passed the courses. They had mutual friends, and knew of each other despite never hanging out. Jungsu thought Youngwoon was an idiot who could never keep it in his pants; Youngwoon thought Jungsu was a stuck-up snob who scorned everything fun.
At graduation day, Youngwoon inevitably got drunk, and as valedictorian Jungsu made it his responsibility to make sure Youngwoon did not puke on anybody. This included much brawling, berating, and all-out exasperation.
Long story short, Youngwoon ended up picking Jungsu up with his strong arms, screaming I’ve got a fucking angry bird!, and throwing Jungsu at a classmate while yelling die, you fucking fat green pig, die! at the top of his lungs. Drunk out of his mind, of course.
Jungsu only got several minor bruises; the classmate that he was thrown at broke two ribs. Youngwoon and Jungsu then ended up visiting this classmate at the hospital together, which was probably the most awkward situation the two could ever be in. As they loitered in the waiting room, they decided to clear the air by playing a game of Angry Birds on Youngwoon's iPad. “I play it whenever I’m bored,” Youngwoon had explained.
“Or whenever you’re drunk?” Jungsu lifted a playful eyebrow.
“Apparently,” Youngwoon laughed heartily. “In my defense, the graduation ceremony was probably the most boring event in history since my aunt’s seventh wedding, and a game of Angry Birds was definitely needed at the time.”
They spent the next thirty minutes swearing death to the fucking fat green pigs on the iPad screen. Within weeks, they were dating.)
“No, that’s what happened,” Jungsu smiled innocently. “We met at graduation day, Youngwoon confessed, and we became a couple. End of story.”
Heecul rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Dad. Whatever”
Week 5: High School AU
Title: before you (i was alone)
Pairing(s): Zhou Mi / Han Geng
Genre(s): romance, high school au
Length: 754 words
```
Han Geng was a loner by nature. It was common knowledge. If life had gone his way, he would have sat alone in the back of class, ate lunch in the most secluded corner of the cafeteria, been the last one anybody chose for group projects, and ignored everybody who tried to talk to him.
A tall lanky Chinese transfer student named Zhou Mi ruined that. According to him, high school was about friends and prom and clubs and happy memories. "None of which you can do without people to do them with," Zhou Mi explained in very fast, very excited Chinese.
At first Han Geng thought he was just going to have to work extra hard to ignore Mr. Smiley Face to keep him away. It worked for most people. Whenever other people talked to him, he pretended not to listen. Whenever they invited him to social events, he just walked away. Whenever they just did not give up, Han Geng pulled out his secret weapon called Operation: Absolute Silence. Most people hated silence, not surprisingly.
Zhou Mi was not like most people and was unaffected by Operation: Absolute Silence. In fact, he took advantage of Han Geng’s unresponsiveness by talking non-stop in his cheerful tenor voice, rejoicing that he could talk about whatever he wanted and nobody would tell him to shut his trap.
This was bad, because Operation: Absolute Silence was Han Geng's last resort. So he started devising other tactics.
1). Operation: Dumb & Dumber
Description: pretend to have an IQ of 25
Response: Zhou Mi thought Han Geng was cute for thinking that Jar Jar Binks was an amazing character who needed a spinoff
Effectiveness: headwall
2). Operation: Pseudo-Pregnancy
Description: pretend to be a PMS-ing asshole, otherwise known as “manstration”
Response: Zhou Mi started baking non-stop to satisfy Han Geng's sudden cravings
Effectiveness: cookies and cupcakes
3). Operation: Hipster
Description: pretend to be a pretentious bastard
Response: Zhou Mi was thrilled to have somebody who shared the same musical interests and dragged Han Geng to an Arcade Fire concert
Effectiveness: Arcade Fire’s Christmas Album
4). Operation: Disney
Description: pretend to believe that life is perfect
Response: Zhou Mi agreed with absolutely everything he said
Effectiveness: facepalm
5). Operation: Sex Addict
Description: pretend to be horny anywhere, everywhere
Response: Zhou Mi was happy to oblige
Effectiveness: Zhou Mi was amazing in bed
They had absolutely no effect on pushing Zhou Mi away. In fact, they did the complete opposite. Even when they left school and went their separate ways, Han Geng always received cutesy texts that told him that Zhou Mi still wanted to see him tomorrow. It boggled his loner mind.
Suddenly, Han Geng was no longer the only one who sat in the back row of class; in fact, because of Zhou Mi’s happy chatter, other students started to join them. Han Geng never ate alone anymore since Zhou Mi always took a seat beside him to share his home-cooked lunches. In group projects, he was automatically teamed up with Zhou Mi and his smiley minions. Han Geng still ignored everybody who tried to talk to him, but Zhou Mi had this way of answering for him, and before long his previous status as Loner suddenly became Shy Misunderstood Kid Who Loves Cookies.
It was madness. And the madness reached a peak when some girl from class offhandedly mentioned how “cute Zhou Mi and you are as a couple, I wish I had a guy as great as Zhou Mi as my boyfriend!”
Han Geng’s mind stopped. Him and Zhou Mi? Dating? Since when were they dating and how come he had no idea?
“Since when are we dating and how come I had no idea?”
Zhou Mi looked like he was about to cry. “Oh, I assumed that, since we have already, well, you know, (had sex), that it meant that we were going, well, steady. Is that okay?”
So Han Geng took a moment to reassess his life. Thanks to Zhou Mi, he had friends. Lots of friends, more than he had ever dreamed of having. He did not have to go to school only to see the turned backs of the student body, did not have to pretend not to care when the other students paired off and left him the odd one out. Instead, he was greeted at the school entrance by a bright smiling face, always there to keep him company.
“Yah,” Han Geng replied, smiling a little bit. “I guess that’s okay.”
Week 6: Non-Human Challenge
Title: and they run him in a great big circle of infinity
Pairing(s): Yesung/Kibum
Genre(s): psychological
Inspiration: allusions to Le Petit Prince by Antoine Saint-Exupery
Length: 753 words
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(A plane crash-landed in the middle of the desert.)
When Yesung woke up, he was thirsty and alone, surrounded by nothing but dunes and sandbanks. He wiped at his brow, wincing at the sting in his eye as he clambered upright. He inspected himself, taking a modicum of comfort in finding himself mostly unharmed. His airplane was in much worse condition, no longer the beauty it was before.
He commenced doing repairs, particularly the engine which had taken the brunt of the impact. He went about with his tools, just a tweak here, a tweak there, and he would be off and ready to fly back to home base. At least, that was what he tried to convince himself.
Kibum showed up not hours later.
(“Hello, Yesung,” he greeted, dark eyes soft in his gaze, black hair swept back handsomely. “It’s a fine day for a ride in the sky.”
Yesung sprang to his feet, blinked back the bleariness, and stared. A young man, probably no older than twenty, standing in the sand with a sly grin on his face. No sign of perspiration, no sign of dehydration.
“How do you do that?” the pilot croaked, grimacing at how hoarse his voice sounded. His throat was dry; it was hard to speak clearly, if at all.
“Do what?”
“Not die.”
The man chuckled. A low melodic sound. “What kind of question is that? I just live. It’s what you’re supposed to do in life. You’re living, aren’t you?”
Yesung shook his head. “I’m dying.”
“Everything is dying. You start to die the moment you are born. But while you are dying, you are also living.” A bright smile lit up the strange man’s face. “Paradox, isn’t it?”
The pilot smiled despite himself. “How do you know my name?”
“How do you know mine?”
“I don’t-” Yesung cut himself off. He did know.)
Yesung was no longer thirsty, and he knew that Kibum had something to do with it despite the young man never giving him a straight answer. Kibum often spoke in riddles, but the words he offered were not without weight. Within the next few days, he made Yesung question his life, ponder about things he previously would have never given any thought to, create new ideas from strokes of genius. Things that used to be mysteries suddenly became clear as daylight.
(“A circle symbolizes infinity. Everything of infinity derives from a circle. Life is a circle.”
“My life is not infinite,” Yesung pointed out. “One day I will die. Maybe sooner than later if I don’t fix my plane in time.”
“Your life does not end when you die.”
“How do you know?”
“Your life continues without you,” Kibum explained patiently. “In memories, in the work you did in your lifetime, in the love you gave to others.”
Yesung took a bold step towards his companion and pulled him into a kiss. “So is my love for you infinite?” he asked, breathless and flushed as his fingers fumbled southwards. Kibum’s only response was a soft groan.)
Life went on, ironically blissful. Yesung continued to tinker with his broken engine as he listened to Kibum’s mysterious words. They often made love under the desert stars, and watched the stillness of the desert night as the cool wind brushed against their naked bodies. Yesung became optimistic, and talked about bringing Kibum home with him once his engine was fixed, never expecting an answer from his beloved and never granted one. Yesung was too cheerful to care.
One day, a group of travelling merchants came their way. Yesung sprang to his feet and cried out in surprise and joy, but his expression of relief soon melted into one of confusion when the travellers paid him no heed and instead made a beeline towards the fallen aircraft. The corpse of a young man sat in the pilot seat.
(“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Yesung asked although he already knew the answer. “How long?”
“You didn’t survive the crash.”)
They say that the desert is alive, that it lives forever. They say that those who die can see the desert for what it truly is. But the desert has many forms, many facets, many levels. Its name is different for every person it meets, its purpose different for every situation it faces. Sometimes a flower, sometimes a boy, sometimes an old woman. An infinite person, yet only one person.
Paradox, isn’t it?
(A plane crash-landed in the middle of the desert. The pilot died on impact.)
Week 6 Bonus: Human Moments
Title: Tailored Seats
Pairing(s): pre-slash!Ryeowook/Sungmin
Genre(s): romance, slice of life
Length: 470 words.
```
They met on the 56 B-Line. Odd but true nonetheless. The 56 B-Line was usually filled with students on their way to class, homeless people who got away with not paying for a ticket by sneaking through the back doors, and hippies with battered skateboards. It was probably the most popular form of transit, its route spanning from the university into the darkest depths of downtown, the bus known for coming every five minutes at the latest.
It started on a Tuesday morning, when Ryeowook’s alarm clock did not chime the usual Rebecca Black’s Friday that never failed to make him rush over to make it stop, make it stop! So instead of waking up at 6:00 am, he woke up at a blimey 6:13 am, which thus forced him to skip half of his morning ritual of brushing his teeth, urinating, showering, making breakfast, and eating breakfast. The rest of his morning ritual-picking out the right clothes that did not make him look too much like the dork he was-took way too much time. He left his little flat at 6:25 am, with exactly five minutes to sprint to the bus stop.
If he had to be honest, Ryeowook was technically in no rush to the bus stop-the 56 B-Line came every two minutes, so if he missed one, he could take the next one with no worry. Why did he rush?
The amazing cushioned seats.
Ryeowook had some sort of algorithm figured out in his head about how many 56 B-Line busses ran through the city at any given moment, and how many of those 56 B-Line busses had seats specifically tailored to Ryeowook’s butt. And so far, there was only one that ran before his first morning class, and it always stopped at Ryeowook’s bus stop at exactly 6:30 am.
That Tuesday, Ryeowook watched in grief as the bus with the amazing cushioned seats just drove off despite his frantic arm-waving and asthmatic sprints. “No, no, don’t leave!” he shouted, almost on the verge of tears. “Shit.”
“Dude, chill,” a guy from behind him laughed. “Another bus just pulled up. Not a huge deal.”
“You don’t understand!” Ryeowook cried. “That bus had seats tailored to my butt!”
The guy just stood there with an expression of half-horror half-amusement. “Tailored to your what?”
Ryeowook flushed up to his hairline. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.” He grudgingly boarded the 51 B-Line bus with non-amazing non-cushioned seats, grumbling when his behind made contact with something akin to hard wood and cold metal.
The bystander for Ryeowook’s minor freak-out sat beside him, a sly grin on his face. “You go to the university?”
“Yah.”
“Me too. What’s your name?”
“Ryeowook.”
“I’m Sungmin.” The guy smiled, sweet and soothing. “Now tell me more about these tailor-made seats you speak of.”
Week 7 Bonus: Smiles
Title: Shadow Behind The Smile
Pairing(s): HanChul, QMi
Length: 506 words
Zhou Mi died on a Saturday. The neighbors saw him jump from his apartment deck onto the unassuming streets below. There was no suicide note, no explanation why. There was only a video taken from a passerby’s cellphone that was later posted on the Internet entitled “Crazy Man Jumps From Apartment Building”.
It was a shock to everybody who knew him. All of his friends described him as the life of the party, the one who everybody could count on to cheer them up, the guy who wnever failed to flash his pearly whites at anybody he met. His family described him as perpetually happy, living life to the fullest-as if he was immune to sadness.
Han Geng, his childhood friend, remembered him as “the happiest boy he had ever met.” They had been neighbors since they were kids, and Han Geng had never seen him without that big trademark smile of his.
Heechul, Han Geng’s boyfriend and another close friend, never thought of him as anything remotely suicidal. “He was always smiling, always laughing,” he said at the funeral, choking on his tears. “I had no idea he would, that he would-”. Heechul didn't make it through his speech.
Zhou Mi’s parents were, at best, heartbroken. They went through the funeral processions red-eyed but not crying. Their tears dried up well before the ceremony had ever started. “We loved Zhou Mi more than anything in the world, and it pains us that he decided to take his own life,” his mother recited, the pulse in her temple beating pitifully against her forehead.
Victoria, his sister, dealt with her grief the only way she could. She broke down at the funeral, flung the vases filled with flowers to the floor with a satisfying crunch of glass shards, kicked and screamed when several funeral attendees tried to pin her down. “Why didn’t you tell anybody, you fucking fucker?” she shrieked in the direction of the casket holding her brother. Tears poured down her cheeks as her face contorted into an expression of betrayal and hatred. “Why didn’t you tell me? You always told me everything! You fucking bastard!”
Zhou Mi’s boyfriend Kyuhyun was in a daze the whole way through, eyes blank and face sallow. “I had no idea,” he kept whispering under his breath. “I had absolutely no idea. No idea at all. No idea, no idea, no idea.”
It was too late, though. Zhou Mi’s corpse lay there, unmoving and never to move again. An ironic smile was on his face, like he was having a good dream.
Zhou Mi was known for being smiley. He had a beautiful smile, one that could light up the whole room. It was the kind of smile that put the sun to shame. But in the end, all those smiles were a cry for help, a smoke signal, a big bright S.O.S. sign.
But nobody knew, nobody understood, nobody realized.
The video "Crazy Man Jumps From Apartment Building" was posted and eventually archived under Comedy.
Week 1: World Legends AU
Title: Cruel Golden Eyes
Pairing(s): Kyuhyun/Donghae
Genre(s): dark!fic, wolf!AU
Length: 751 words
Donghae used to be a romantic who believed that love was all about sappy songs and red roses, romantic dinner dates and long walks on the beach, sweet tender kisses during the day and slow passionate love-making at night. He had imagined himself giving his whole heart to a person with whom he could settle down in his little rural hometown and raise dozens of beautiful smiley children.
But then he met Kyuhyun. Devil incarnate, beastly terror, Kyuhyun roamed the surrounding forest like a ghost in a graveyard.
Gone were Donghae’s dreams of serenading from the courtyard or writing heartfelt letters about life and love and beauty. His mind was corrupted with thoughts of thick black fur and golden eyes and sharp white fangs stained with fresh blood.
There were stories around town about a hungry lone wolf that fed off of helpless children and reckless travelers, scarcely leaving a drop of blood behind. Every time he heard of those stories, he could not restrain the bitter laugh from all the irony. Kyuhyun the Wolf was frightening, there was no arguing that, but Donghae knew that Kyuhyun the Human was even more terrifying. His skin was pale, unnervingly pale, which contrasted with the darkness of his unkempt hair that covered his eyes. He was as skinny as a skeleton and as emaciated as a corpse, having lived on the brink of starvation for most of his life. The broody man was a wild soul-he belonged to nobody, golden eyes void of emotions other than anger and lust as he smirked nonchalantly at his prey.
Donghae thought he was beautiful despite his sallow skin, messy tuft of hair, and protruding ribs.
He never saw Kyuhyun during the day. They always met at night under a full moon, where Kyuhyun would sneak into Donghae’s bedroom in his human form, gruffly wake him up, guide him deep into the forest, and ultimately fuck him senseless. Kyuhyun was ruthless beyond all measure, and each time they met Donghae wondered how he ever managed to survive in once piece. No slow love-making under the night sky-this was raw, intense, animalistic fucking. Ragged breaths, broken cries, beads of sweat despite the freezing temperatures. Crows cackled overhead from the commotion, and Donghae’s injured voice echoed through the tree branches. Nothing was held back, nothing was restrained, bruises, blood, pain, pleasure. Donghae desperately took it all in, praying that he did not break into a million pieces.
When they were finished, heart rates finally slowing to a steady beat, Kyuhyun would pull back, run off a few meters, and let out a blood-curdling howl that resonated throughout the forest, sending petrified shivers down every tree bark. Donghae would then watch in fear and awe as his lover melted into a transitional wolf-human hybrid and into his true form-a lethal creature of the night. Replacing Kyuhyun’s pale skin was a coat of impenetrable black fur, and instead of that nonchalant smirk there were bloodthirsty fangs strong enough to rip open another animal’s intestines like thin paper. Long limbs became powerful legs, hands and feet transformed into large nimble paws. With one last glance at a shivering Donghae, the wolf would surge back into the darkness where he belonged, not to be seen as human again until the next full moon.
Donghae always woke up safely in his bed the next morning wondering whether it was just a dream, but the bruises on his hips and the cuts on his chest told the deadly truth. Seduced by the devil was he.
Sometimes, late at night curled up in his bed, Donghae and the rest of the townspeople would hear a howl against the paleness of the moon, celebrating a kill freshly caught.
While others would quiver with fear or rush out with their guns, Donghae merely pulled his covers tighter and smiled bitterly.
They could try all they wanted; it would never be of any use. Kyuhyun feasted on those who entered his territory during the night, whether it was a man or woman or child. He ran with the chilling wind, faster than any bullet, and evaded all vengeful human eyes like an apparition.
Just stay out of the forest, Donghae thought grimly, knowing that those who braved the forest with their rifles would never return. Stay out and you’ll be fine.
Donghae would shiver at the realization that his once-romantic thoughts had become cruel, as cruel as the golden eyes that haunted him every full moon.
Week 1 Bonus: Music
Song: Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen (lyrics)
Reason: Whenever I think of the word “gentleman”, I automatically think of Siwon and Gentleman Mimi. I think those two would be the best at the “good old fashioned lover boy” persona.
Pairing: Siwon/Zhou Mi
If there was one thing that Siwon was good at doing, it was being a gentleman. He talked eloquently, not too forceful, not too timid; he was well-rounded, with a broad knowledge that encompassed literature and politics and art; and most importantly, he had manners that made him come off as neither a slob nor a snob.
Honestly, Zhou Mi was impressed. As a gentleman himself, he had high standards when it came to romance, and Siwon seemed to meet all of them-exceed them at times. He sang love songs, wrote heartfelt letters, and called just to hear your voice. He was never late for their dates and always arrived at Zhou Mi’s doorstep with a polished car, and despite Zhou Mi’s objections Siwon insisted on paying the bills.
By the fifth date, Zhou Mi had come to admire the man who was so impeccable in his gentlemanly ways. Siwon had surprised him with a candlelit dinner on the roof of an Italian restaurant, and as cheesy as it sounded, Zhou Mi had to agree that it was probably the most romantic setting any man could ever hope for. They talked about their lives over a plate of delicious home-cooked spaghetti, and chatted about their childhood dreams over a glass of wine. Things were going perfectly, and Zhou Mi was beside himself with giddiness.
“Do you know how to tango, Siwon?” he asked coyly.
“Tango?”
“Yes, tango,” Zhou Mi giggled, face red from the wine. “It’s a type of dance.”
“I learn quickly,” Siwon shrugged, raising his hand and guiding his date into the middle of the rooftop. “I learned how to waltz when I was younger.”
“Impressive,” the Chinese man chirped, quirking an eyebrow as he leaned his head closer. “Shall I lead?”
Siwon’s cheeks reddened. “Certainly.”
They danced well into the night, no music needed to guide their steps. The soles of their feet were sore by the end of their date, but Zhou Mi never stopped smiling and Siwon never stopped blushing. In fact, Zhou Mi almost felt bad for all the other men and women who would never experience the thrill of being romanced by a guy like Siwon. It was a shame, really. The world really needed a lot more good old fashioned lover boys.
Week 2: Kink Grab Bag
Title: make my body scream, you’re the star of my wet dream
Pairing(s): Han Geng/Heechul
Genre(s): comedy
Kinks: food, orgasm denial, lingerie
Length: 755 words
For Han Geng, who had previously taken the fact that he was heterosexual for granted, getting used to thinking of his best friend slash confidante as a sexual being was proving to be extremely taxing.
At first, Han Geng just noticed little things, like how Heechul looked nice with long red hair and had a really cute butt. Then he started to notice how Heechul always sucked his finger after eating pastries, or how he threw his head back when he laughed, or how he always came out of the shower with only a towel wrapped low around his thin waist. The worst came eventually, and honest to god, it scared the living bejeezus out of Han Geng: since when had he ever tried to picture what Heechul looked like naked on a daily basis?
The dreams came soon enough, and every morning, Han Geng would wake up with messy sheets and a fragment of a wet dream that made him blush three shades of red at once. Sometimes his wet dreams were intense and steamy, like the one where Heechul forcefully drove Han Geng’s shoulders into the bed as he rutted against him like an Energizer Bunny on Gatorade. Less frequently, they were romantic and heartfelt, complete with the love confession and candles and rose petals. But more often than he would like to admit, they were just plain stupid: it could have been Heechul innocently sucking on a banana and Han Geng getting the biggest and most embarrassing hard-on ever to be seen in the history of Biggest Embarrassing Hard-Ons. Han Geng planned on taking every one of those dreams to the grave.
Weirdly enough, Han Geng’s most recurrent wet dream featured Siwon. Han Geng would be in a coffee shop, sinking into one of those sinfully comfortable couches while Siwon talked about religion and marriage and other Good Catholic Schoolboy topics on the other side of the table. Unbeknownst to the latter, however, Han Geng was being tortured by the fact that just beyond Siwon’s head, Heechul was tending to the cash register dressed in fucking underwear. Not just any underwear, either: frilly fucking underwear. And no matter how much Han Geng tried to deny it, the sight of Heechul’s barely covered ass turned him on like nothing else and no amount of boring discussions with Siwon could stop the tent that formed in his pants.
He felt like a goddamn teenager every time he woke up.
As to be expected, Han Geng could never be alone in the same room with Heechul without being reminded of the fact that his subconscious wanted to fuck him until his legs gave out. He also couldn’t talk to his best friend slash confidante without analyzing every word exchanged between them. Heechul’s make me rice was processed as take off your clothes. All of his usual your Korean sucks! comments suddenly became I want your cock or variations thereof. Moreover, every time the elder ordered him to close the damn lights already, Han Geng interpreted that as fuck me now before I rip your balls off. The dual meanings drove Han Geng insane, to the point where he actually did a desperate Google search for a reference guide called What He Really Means: Heechul Edition (and cried when there were no hits).
All suffering comes to an end, however, and Han Geng’s suffering ended on a Tuesday, otherwise known as Fuck You Laundry Day. Ironically, Han Geng loved Fuck You Laundry Day, most likely because he loved the feel of clothes fresh from the dryer. Heechul, on the other hand, loathed Fuck You Laundry Day, which was where the name originally came from.
Han Geng usually spent Fuck You Laundry Day listening to Heechul bitch about sunlight and cat hair, so the sight of Heechul stripping down to his undergarments after spilling soap everywhere caught him by surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes bulging out of his sockets.
“Having an epic lightsaber duel with Mr. Clean,” Heechul spat, muttering something about stupid pet shop owners and non-shedding cat breeds. “What did you think I was doing?”
He definitely needed that reference guide. “Getting ready to push me against the wall with the intention of having sex that is illegal in fifteen different countries?” he guessed.
Heechul stopped in his tracks. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” he cried, promptly shoving Han Geng against a washing machine. “That sounds infinitely better than doing laundry all day.”
Well, who could argue with that logic?
Week 3: Horror AU
Title: and the cat turned to smoke
Pairing(s): Heechul/Leeteuk
Genre(s): murder!AU
Length: 750 words
If he followed his routine, they all ended up dismembered in a garbage bag at the bottom of a river, or in a dumpster if there was no river within a three-hour drive. Heechul usually picked them up at clubs, inebriated men or women who easily succumbed to a witty catchphrase and charming quirk of an eyebrow, and coaxed them back to his hotel room. There, he proceeded to fuck them until they writhed with pleasure, effectively slitting their throats the moment they achieved orgasm.
His next victim was a man in his late twenties, but Heechul knew from the start that he was different. The man possessed the most stunning pair of eyes-dark in color but bright in texture, soft in demeanor but fierce in his gaze-and while it was apparent he was drunk, intelligence still lingered in his system, unaffected by the alcohol.
“May I buy you a drink?” Heechul asked, flashing his signature smirk as he slid into the seat beside his prey.
“Knock yourself out,” the man shrugged, running a pale hand through his dyed blond hair. “I’m out of money anyway.”
Heechul chuckled, a Cheshire cat grin enveloping his face as he fished out a wad of cash. “Rough day?”
The man giggled, hiccupped, wheezed out a laugh as a pint was thrust towards him. “That’s one way of putting it. More like went through a complete mindfuck.”
“A complete mindfuck, huh?” Heechul rested his chin on his knuckles, watched as the blond downed the drink in one go. “What’s your name?”
The man blinked owlishly. “Call me Jungsu.”
From there, the pair started to talk, topics spanning from politics to neuroscience to bird-watching flowing between them in a constant rush of ideas and opinions. By the time Heechul brought him back to his hotel room, they had talked for four hours straight. An impressive feat-it was not often somebody could hold his attention for so long with mere words.
Heechul fucked him slowly, gently, relishing the feel of bare skin against skin. Sensing the other’s breath quicken, Heechul gradually reached for the knife he hid in the drawer of the side table, a smile playing on his lips when he felt the handle. So close, the vein in Jungsu’s neck jutted out as he tensed, vulnerable, eyes screwed shut.
Almost, almost.
Suddenly, Jungsu lifted his eyelids. Those stunning eyes bore a hole into Heechul, leaving him frozen, unable to do anything but stare straight back. Almost involuntarily he unwound his fingers from the knife handle, opting to have them curl around the back of Jungsu’s head and bring those stunning eyes closer, closer. Heechul came within seconds, never blinking.
When they finished, they talked some more, both naked under the dirty sheets as they discussed religion and golf and art as the first rays of the sun peeked through the window.
It was 6:30 A.M. when they finally got up to dress.
“Back to the complete mindfuck?”
Jungsu smiled, a dimple forming on his right cheek. “You can say that.”
They shared a laugh, so natural and easy. Heechul pressed a chaste kiss onto Jungsu’s lips, warmed at how domestic it felt. “It was nice meeting you, Jungsu.”
The blond blushed, attempted to hide a smile, failed.
Heechul’s eyes softened. “I have to check out now. Stay as long as you like, or until the staff members kick you out.” He only took three steps towards the door before hearing the cock of a gun. He stopped in his tracks.
“This is Detective Park Jungsu. You are under arrest for first degree murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law.”
Heechul sighed, feeling the hard edge of the gun pressed against the back of his head. “I had a feeling you were too good to be true.”
“I’m sorry.” There was regret in the detective’s voice. “I knew who you were the moment you walked into that club.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
“Why didn’t you?”
The murderer shrugged. “I don’t know. Why did you follow me to my hotel room when you knew what I was planning?”
“I don’t know.”
“We sure have a lot in common.”
“We do,” Jungsu agreed, sighing wistfully. “In another life, we would have been really good friends.”
Heechul smiled at the thought, and didn’t struggle when Jungsu snapped the handcuffs into place.
Week 3 Bonus: 5 Random Words
Title: Pigs In A Truck
Pairing(s): none
Genre(s): psychological, angst, war!AU
Length: 406 words
Words: soldier, poem, wagon, diver, pocketwatch
Jungsu was driving when he spotted a truck filled with pigs on their way to the butcher shop to be massacred into pork chops and soups and dried snacks. He imagined how it must feel, being a pig, being a deceivingly intelligent and emotional animal. He imagined how it must feel to be one of the pigs in that particular truck, squished together with his comrades on a bumpy wagon, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but accept the fact that he was merely another pig for another human to eat.
It made Jungsu sick to his stomach. There are only pigs, he mentally chanted to himself. Only pigs, nothing more.
But they weren’t just pigs. They were living breathing creatures, just like his men were before they all died protecting their country-the fourteen members of the troop that Jungsu trained and led into battle. All of them were enthusiastic, beautiful people, each with enough courage and bravery to put the rest of the war effort to shame. All of them loved and trusted Jungsu with their lives.
All of them, dead, because Jungsu failed to see the shells that exploded beneath their feet.
He killed them, all fourteen of them, men that he was supposed to lead and protect. Just like those pigs, who were raised up under the protection of strange humans only to be slaughtered indiscriminately for their meat. Their deaths were acknowledged, but not commemorated. They didn’t even have time to bury them before moving onto their next course of action. Just left them there to rot, a feast for maggots and flies.
He remembered their faces, each and every one of them. He remembered how they screamed before going silent-too silent. He remembered how his ears rung when the ground beside him blew up in a volcanic eruption, taking his soldiers with it. He remembered seeing a leg on the ground, torn from the rest of the body, remembered wondering whose leg it was just before he passed out.
Jungsu pulled over, watched the truck drive off, screamed, sobbed, broke down. Those pigs, his men, they were innocent creatures; they did not deserve to be killed like that. They did not deserve to be blinded by blood, tortured from pain, subjected to a life as mass produce.
In the end, we are all just pigs, aren’t we?
Just pigs in a truck, waiting for death.
Week 4: Crossovers Challenge
Title: a battle unseen
Pairing(s): Heechul/Han Geng
Fandom: Animorphs
Length: 755 words
Genre(s): sci-fi, romance
Han Geng sometimes wished that his life was normal, that he had a normal family, went to a normal school, hung out with normal friends, and dealt with normal problems. Sometimes he wished that the Ellimist had never presented him with the blue cube that gave him the power to morph into any animal he touched. Sometimes he wished that he was not one of the two people on the Eastern front actively fighting against the Yeerk invasion. Sometimes he wished that he never knew about extraterrestrials like the gentle Hork-Bajir or hunger-driven Taxxons or intelligent Andalites. Sometimes, he wished that he was still human, not a wolf nothlit.
These were rare occasions, though.
If he was not a wolf, he would still be living with his violent alcoholic father. If he was not morph-capable, he would easily have been subjected to slavery by the Yeerks. Most importantly, if he was not fighting for freedom, he would have never met Heechul.
Beautiful, dangerous Heechul, the reason why Han Geng never regretted choosing a life of war.
Even as a human, Heechul was strong. Faced with danger, he showed no fear, no hesitation. He lived by Nike’s just do it approach, a tornado of bravery and ferociousness.
In their old lives, they attended the same high school. Han Geng was the foreigner, the loser who got beat up and shoved into lockers. Heechul was part of the popular group, the guy that all the girls wanted and all the boys questioned their sexualities for. In another lifetime, they probably would have never met, would have never fallen in love.
The thought made Han Geng sick with dread. He would never exchange Heechul’s love for anything. There was nothing like the exhilaration of riding the thermals high above the ground as a bald eagle; the joy of surging from the water as a dolphin; the excitement of running through the forest at the speed of a wolf. But nothing-nothing!-could compare to doing all that and more with the love of his life.
Han Geng had lost count how many times he found himself wanting to kiss the ground knowing that a smart strong-willed guy named Heechul loved him. Every kiss made his heart flutter, every touch made his skin tingle, every laugh made his face redden. They acquired animal DNA together, intimately experienced the inner workings of every creature they morphed, laughed whenever the animal instincts got the better of them. The night they first made love was the night Han Geng first experienced perfection. In that moment, his alcoholic father and the school bullies did not matter, all of his burdens were stripped away. In that moment, his life was perfect.
However, with happiness comes pain, and with power comes responsibility. Their ability to morph was their ultimate weapon against the extraterrestrial threat, and together they fought numerous battles, saw each other get slashed into bloody messes by Yeerk-controlled troops, forced themselves to keep fighting, keep breathing, keep going. Every battle was a close call, every combat was a step away from death, every pulse was one heartbeat from stopping.
One fateful attack on a Yeerk pool left Han Geng unable to revert from his wolf form within the two-hour limit, leaving him a nothlit, trapped in his own morph. He had never figured out if this incident was intentional or accidental-perhaps he had gotten addicted to the resilience the life as a wolf offered, with its keen sense of smell and acute hearing, its nimble gait and powerful spring.
The Ellimist gave him one last chance, restoring his morphing ability and allowing him to morph into a human with the wolf being his main form. Han Geng lived in the forest from then on, satisfied with his life that consisted of prowling the forest, hunting for food, and protecting his territory. It was simple, primeval.
It often upset Heechul how comfortable Han Geng was as a wolf. “Sometimes I want to do normal things,” he would say, weary. “I want to go to the movies with you without worrying about some fucking two-hour limit!”
“We’re in a war. If I’m human, I can’t fight.”
“I don’t want you to fight!” Heechul would scream before bursting into tears. “I want you safe!”
“We’ll never be safe until the Yeerks are defeated.”
If they survived and if Heechul still loved him when the war ended, Han Geng wouldn’t hesitate. He would morph to human and stay that way.
Until then, he would keep fighting.
Week 4 Bonus: Kid!Fic
Title: in which youngwoon and jungsu meet over angry birds
Pairing(s): Kangin/Leeteuk
Length: 490 words
If there was one question Jungsu had not been expecting from his three sons, it was Daddy, how did you meet Papa?. Thankfully, he and Youngwoon had already prepared an answer a long time ago. A very simple straightforward answer that they were sure the kids would buy.
“Papa and I went to the same college, sweetie,” Jungsu answered smoothly. “We had many of the same classes, but we never talked to each other until graduation day where your Papa confessed to me at the end of the ceremony.”
The youngest son, Kibum, blinked owlishly. He accepted the answer without question, without a sound.
The middle son, Ryeowook, blushed with delight. “Was the confession all sweet and lovey-dovey?”
“You sure bet it was,” Jungsu grinned.
Satisfied, Kibum and Ryeowook waddled off to continue playing with their Lego sets.
Only the oldest son Heechul remained, a wry look on his intelligent face. “That is totally not what happened, isn’t it?” he smirked.
The father thought back twenty years.
(What really happened:
True, Jungsu and Youngwoon went to the same college. And true, they never talked despite having many of the same classes. Jungsu was the top student; Youngwoon barely passed the courses. They had mutual friends, and knew of each other despite never hanging out. Jungsu thought Youngwoon was an idiot who could never keep it in his pants; Youngwoon thought Jungsu was a stuck-up snob who scorned everything fun.
At graduation day, Youngwoon inevitably got drunk, and as valedictorian Jungsu made it his responsibility to make sure Youngwoon did not puke on anybody. This included much brawling, berating, and all-out exasperation.
Long story short, Youngwoon ended up picking Jungsu up with his strong arms, screaming I’ve got a fucking angry bird!, and throwing Jungsu at a classmate while yelling die, you fucking fat green pig, die! at the top of his lungs. Drunk out of his mind, of course.
Jungsu only got several minor bruises; the classmate that he was thrown at broke two ribs. Youngwoon and Jungsu then ended up visiting this classmate at the hospital together, which was probably the most awkward situation the two could ever be in. As they loitered in the waiting room, they decided to clear the air by playing a game of Angry Birds on Youngwoon's iPad. “I play it whenever I’m bored,” Youngwoon had explained.
“Or whenever you’re drunk?” Jungsu lifted a playful eyebrow.
“Apparently,” Youngwoon laughed heartily. “In my defense, the graduation ceremony was probably the most boring event in history since my aunt’s seventh wedding, and a game of Angry Birds was definitely needed at the time.”
They spent the next thirty minutes swearing death to the fucking fat green pigs on the iPad screen. Within weeks, they were dating.)
“No, that’s what happened,” Jungsu smiled innocently. “We met at graduation day, Youngwoon confessed, and we became a couple. End of story.”
Heecul rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Dad. Whatever”
Week 5: High School AU
Title: before you (i was alone)
Pairing(s): Zhou Mi / Han Geng
Genre(s): romance, high school au
Length: 754 words
```
Han Geng was a loner by nature. It was common knowledge. If life had gone his way, he would have sat alone in the back of class, ate lunch in the most secluded corner of the cafeteria, been the last one anybody chose for group projects, and ignored everybody who tried to talk to him.
A tall lanky Chinese transfer student named Zhou Mi ruined that. According to him, high school was about friends and prom and clubs and happy memories. "None of which you can do without people to do them with," Zhou Mi explained in very fast, very excited Chinese.
At first Han Geng thought he was just going to have to work extra hard to ignore Mr. Smiley Face to keep him away. It worked for most people. Whenever other people talked to him, he pretended not to listen. Whenever they invited him to social events, he just walked away. Whenever they just did not give up, Han Geng pulled out his secret weapon called Operation: Absolute Silence. Most people hated silence, not surprisingly.
Zhou Mi was not like most people and was unaffected by Operation: Absolute Silence. In fact, he took advantage of Han Geng’s unresponsiveness by talking non-stop in his cheerful tenor voice, rejoicing that he could talk about whatever he wanted and nobody would tell him to shut his trap.
This was bad, because Operation: Absolute Silence was Han Geng's last resort. So he started devising other tactics.
1). Operation: Dumb & Dumber
Description: pretend to have an IQ of 25
Response: Zhou Mi thought Han Geng was cute for thinking that Jar Jar Binks was an amazing character who needed a spinoff
Effectiveness: headwall
2). Operation: Pseudo-Pregnancy
Description: pretend to be a PMS-ing asshole, otherwise known as “manstration”
Response: Zhou Mi started baking non-stop to satisfy Han Geng's sudden cravings
Effectiveness: cookies and cupcakes
3). Operation: Hipster
Description: pretend to be a pretentious bastard
Response: Zhou Mi was thrilled to have somebody who shared the same musical interests and dragged Han Geng to an Arcade Fire concert
Effectiveness: Arcade Fire’s Christmas Album
4). Operation: Disney
Description: pretend to believe that life is perfect
Response: Zhou Mi agreed with absolutely everything he said
Effectiveness: facepalm
5). Operation: Sex Addict
Description: pretend to be horny anywhere, everywhere
Response: Zhou Mi was happy to oblige
Effectiveness: Zhou Mi was amazing in bed
They had absolutely no effect on pushing Zhou Mi away. In fact, they did the complete opposite. Even when they left school and went their separate ways, Han Geng always received cutesy texts that told him that Zhou Mi still wanted to see him tomorrow. It boggled his loner mind.
Suddenly, Han Geng was no longer the only one who sat in the back row of class; in fact, because of Zhou Mi’s happy chatter, other students started to join them. Han Geng never ate alone anymore since Zhou Mi always took a seat beside him to share his home-cooked lunches. In group projects, he was automatically teamed up with Zhou Mi and his smiley minions. Han Geng still ignored everybody who tried to talk to him, but Zhou Mi had this way of answering for him, and before long his previous status as Loner suddenly became Shy Misunderstood Kid Who Loves Cookies.
It was madness. And the madness reached a peak when some girl from class offhandedly mentioned how “cute Zhou Mi and you are as a couple, I wish I had a guy as great as Zhou Mi as my boyfriend!”
Han Geng’s mind stopped. Him and Zhou Mi? Dating? Since when were they dating and how come he had no idea?
“Since when are we dating and how come I had no idea?”
Zhou Mi looked like he was about to cry. “Oh, I assumed that, since we have already, well, you know, (had sex), that it meant that we were going, well, steady. Is that okay?”
So Han Geng took a moment to reassess his life. Thanks to Zhou Mi, he had friends. Lots of friends, more than he had ever dreamed of having. He did not have to go to school only to see the turned backs of the student body, did not have to pretend not to care when the other students paired off and left him the odd one out. Instead, he was greeted at the school entrance by a bright smiling face, always there to keep him company.
“Yah,” Han Geng replied, smiling a little bit. “I guess that’s okay.”
Week 6: Non-Human Challenge
Title: and they run him in a great big circle of infinity
Pairing(s): Yesung/Kibum
Genre(s): psychological
Inspiration: allusions to Le Petit Prince by Antoine Saint-Exupery
Length: 753 words
```
(A plane crash-landed in the middle of the desert.)
When Yesung woke up, he was thirsty and alone, surrounded by nothing but dunes and sandbanks. He wiped at his brow, wincing at the sting in his eye as he clambered upright. He inspected himself, taking a modicum of comfort in finding himself mostly unharmed. His airplane was in much worse condition, no longer the beauty it was before.
He commenced doing repairs, particularly the engine which had taken the brunt of the impact. He went about with his tools, just a tweak here, a tweak there, and he would be off and ready to fly back to home base. At least, that was what he tried to convince himself.
Kibum showed up not hours later.
(“Hello, Yesung,” he greeted, dark eyes soft in his gaze, black hair swept back handsomely. “It’s a fine day for a ride in the sky.”
Yesung sprang to his feet, blinked back the bleariness, and stared. A young man, probably no older than twenty, standing in the sand with a sly grin on his face. No sign of perspiration, no sign of dehydration.
“How do you do that?” the pilot croaked, grimacing at how hoarse his voice sounded. His throat was dry; it was hard to speak clearly, if at all.
“Do what?”
“Not die.”
The man chuckled. A low melodic sound. “What kind of question is that? I just live. It’s what you’re supposed to do in life. You’re living, aren’t you?”
Yesung shook his head. “I’m dying.”
“Everything is dying. You start to die the moment you are born. But while you are dying, you are also living.” A bright smile lit up the strange man’s face. “Paradox, isn’t it?”
The pilot smiled despite himself. “How do you know my name?”
“How do you know mine?”
“I don’t-” Yesung cut himself off. He did know.)
Yesung was no longer thirsty, and he knew that Kibum had something to do with it despite the young man never giving him a straight answer. Kibum often spoke in riddles, but the words he offered were not without weight. Within the next few days, he made Yesung question his life, ponder about things he previously would have never given any thought to, create new ideas from strokes of genius. Things that used to be mysteries suddenly became clear as daylight.
(“A circle symbolizes infinity. Everything of infinity derives from a circle. Life is a circle.”
“My life is not infinite,” Yesung pointed out. “One day I will die. Maybe sooner than later if I don’t fix my plane in time.”
“Your life does not end when you die.”
“How do you know?”
“Your life continues without you,” Kibum explained patiently. “In memories, in the work you did in your lifetime, in the love you gave to others.”
Yesung took a bold step towards his companion and pulled him into a kiss. “So is my love for you infinite?” he asked, breathless and flushed as his fingers fumbled southwards. Kibum’s only response was a soft groan.)
Life went on, ironically blissful. Yesung continued to tinker with his broken engine as he listened to Kibum’s mysterious words. They often made love under the desert stars, and watched the stillness of the desert night as the cool wind brushed against their naked bodies. Yesung became optimistic, and talked about bringing Kibum home with him once his engine was fixed, never expecting an answer from his beloved and never granted one. Yesung was too cheerful to care.
One day, a group of travelling merchants came their way. Yesung sprang to his feet and cried out in surprise and joy, but his expression of relief soon melted into one of confusion when the travellers paid him no heed and instead made a beeline towards the fallen aircraft. The corpse of a young man sat in the pilot seat.
(“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Yesung asked although he already knew the answer. “How long?”
“You didn’t survive the crash.”)
They say that the desert is alive, that it lives forever. They say that those who die can see the desert for what it truly is. But the desert has many forms, many facets, many levels. Its name is different for every person it meets, its purpose different for every situation it faces. Sometimes a flower, sometimes a boy, sometimes an old woman. An infinite person, yet only one person.
Paradox, isn’t it?
(A plane crash-landed in the middle of the desert. The pilot died on impact.)
Week 6 Bonus: Human Moments
Title: Tailored Seats
Pairing(s): pre-slash!Ryeowook/Sungmin
Genre(s): romance, slice of life
Length: 470 words.
```
They met on the 56 B-Line. Odd but true nonetheless. The 56 B-Line was usually filled with students on their way to class, homeless people who got away with not paying for a ticket by sneaking through the back doors, and hippies with battered skateboards. It was probably the most popular form of transit, its route spanning from the university into the darkest depths of downtown, the bus known for coming every five minutes at the latest.
It started on a Tuesday morning, when Ryeowook’s alarm clock did not chime the usual Rebecca Black’s Friday that never failed to make him rush over to make it stop, make it stop! So instead of waking up at 6:00 am, he woke up at a blimey 6:13 am, which thus forced him to skip half of his morning ritual of brushing his teeth, urinating, showering, making breakfast, and eating breakfast. The rest of his morning ritual-picking out the right clothes that did not make him look too much like the dork he was-took way too much time. He left his little flat at 6:25 am, with exactly five minutes to sprint to the bus stop.
If he had to be honest, Ryeowook was technically in no rush to the bus stop-the 56 B-Line came every two minutes, so if he missed one, he could take the next one with no worry. Why did he rush?
The amazing cushioned seats.
Ryeowook had some sort of algorithm figured out in his head about how many 56 B-Line busses ran through the city at any given moment, and how many of those 56 B-Line busses had seats specifically tailored to Ryeowook’s butt. And so far, there was only one that ran before his first morning class, and it always stopped at Ryeowook’s bus stop at exactly 6:30 am.
That Tuesday, Ryeowook watched in grief as the bus with the amazing cushioned seats just drove off despite his frantic arm-waving and asthmatic sprints. “No, no, don’t leave!” he shouted, almost on the verge of tears. “Shit.”
“Dude, chill,” a guy from behind him laughed. “Another bus just pulled up. Not a huge deal.”
“You don’t understand!” Ryeowook cried. “That bus had seats tailored to my butt!”
The guy just stood there with an expression of half-horror half-amusement. “Tailored to your what?”
Ryeowook flushed up to his hairline. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.” He grudgingly boarded the 51 B-Line bus with non-amazing non-cushioned seats, grumbling when his behind made contact with something akin to hard wood and cold metal.
The bystander for Ryeowook’s minor freak-out sat beside him, a sly grin on his face. “You go to the university?”
“Yah.”
“Me too. What’s your name?”
“Ryeowook.”
“I’m Sungmin.” The guy smiled, sweet and soothing. “Now tell me more about these tailor-made seats you speak of.”
Week 7 Bonus: Smiles
Title: Shadow Behind The Smile
Pairing(s): HanChul, QMi
Length: 506 words
Zhou Mi died on a Saturday. The neighbors saw him jump from his apartment deck onto the unassuming streets below. There was no suicide note, no explanation why. There was only a video taken from a passerby’s cellphone that was later posted on the Internet entitled “Crazy Man Jumps From Apartment Building”.
It was a shock to everybody who knew him. All of his friends described him as the life of the party, the one who everybody could count on to cheer them up, the guy who wnever failed to flash his pearly whites at anybody he met. His family described him as perpetually happy, living life to the fullest-as if he was immune to sadness.
Han Geng, his childhood friend, remembered him as “the happiest boy he had ever met.” They had been neighbors since they were kids, and Han Geng had never seen him without that big trademark smile of his.
Heechul, Han Geng’s boyfriend and another close friend, never thought of him as anything remotely suicidal. “He was always smiling, always laughing,” he said at the funeral, choking on his tears. “I had no idea he would, that he would-”. Heechul didn't make it through his speech.
Zhou Mi’s parents were, at best, heartbroken. They went through the funeral processions red-eyed but not crying. Their tears dried up well before the ceremony had ever started. “We loved Zhou Mi more than anything in the world, and it pains us that he decided to take his own life,” his mother recited, the pulse in her temple beating pitifully against her forehead.
Victoria, his sister, dealt with her grief the only way she could. She broke down at the funeral, flung the vases filled with flowers to the floor with a satisfying crunch of glass shards, kicked and screamed when several funeral attendees tried to pin her down. “Why didn’t you tell anybody, you fucking fucker?” she shrieked in the direction of the casket holding her brother. Tears poured down her cheeks as her face contorted into an expression of betrayal and hatred. “Why didn’t you tell me? You always told me everything! You fucking bastard!”
Zhou Mi’s boyfriend Kyuhyun was in a daze the whole way through, eyes blank and face sallow. “I had no idea,” he kept whispering under his breath. “I had absolutely no idea. No idea at all. No idea, no idea, no idea.”
It was too late, though. Zhou Mi’s corpse lay there, unmoving and never to move again. An ironic smile was on his face, like he was having a good dream.
Zhou Mi was known for being smiley. He had a beautiful smile, one that could light up the whole room. It was the kind of smile that put the sun to shame. But in the end, all those smiles were a cry for help, a smoke signal, a big bright S.O.S. sign.
But nobody knew, nobody understood, nobody realized.
The video "Crazy Man Jumps From Apartment Building" was posted and eventually archived under Comedy.