fic dump #2
in which lies a few wips i have started but are unsure about / lost interest in. i most probably won't finish them, but inspiration strikes at any time, so.
o1. kaisoo; reaper!kai / human!kyungsoo
From as far back as he can remember, Jongin has always been this.
Reaper, bringer of death, darkness, evil, destroyer of worlds.
Of course, he is not the only one. There’s baby-faced Lu Han who specializes in guiding the souls of children into the afterlife, soft hand engulfing their smaller, even smoother ones. His smile is assuring, gentle, and Jongin had been amazed the first time he saw Lu Han bringing a soul in, chatting with it even as he led it towards the gate.
Except Lu Han is not as nice as he seems to be, after all he is a reaper. Often, Jongin finds him lazing around the common room; game controller in his hands even as the gadget hooked on the waist of his pants flashes an insistent red.
“You do know that means that there is a lost child soul wandering around in your area, waiting for you to bring it to peace, right?” Jongin had asked once.
Lu Han had paused the game to look at him, and there had been a darkness swirling in his huge eyes that made Jongin shiver.
“I know.”
Jongin walks back to his room as the sound of Lu Han’s video game filled the air.
o2. the avengers!exo (taoris; girl!kai)
Like every good story, it starts with a party.
Baekhyun sighs internally when he sees Kai walk towards him, shot of vodka held precariously between her thumb and finger. He doesn’t understand how she’s still upright, especially with the ridiculous number of shots she has had and those sparkly silver heels she is wearing.
“We need you for a mission,” she whispers into his ear, leaning down towards him, ebony black hair tickling his cheek, “it’s about Tao, we think he’s back.”
He feels himself straighten up in interest. It had almost a year since the events with Tao. He was starting to believe that that was the end of it. Apparently not.
o3. taoris; spin the bottle
They are playing a game of spin the bottle. So far, Wu Fan has managed to not have to kiss anyone. All he has done is lean back against a wall and watch as Songqian giggles as she presses her lips against Baekhyun’s, holds it for three, precise, seconds before she shuffles back to her place in the circle, giggling even more incessantly than before. She spins the bottle and it points to Zitao, who freezes when he notices.
Wu Fan watches in amusement as Zitao stands up stiffly before he walks to where Songqian is sitting and kneels awkwardly in front of her. His cheeks have blossomed into a cherry red, and Wu Fan remembers something about how Zitao had something of a crush for Songqian or something. Zitao leans forward just enough so that his lips and Songqian’s are just brushing, and he holds it there for the necessary three seconds and shuffles back, almost tripping on his legs as he does so.
“This is lame, let’s increase the time to 10 seconds,” Jongin drawls out, and is met with slurred approvals and a lone catcall.
Zitao spins the bottle, and it lands on -
Him.
Wu Fan stares at the bottle for a long time, and only starts to move when Sehun asks him to hurry up. He finds himself crawling the short distance that spans between him and Zitao, and Zitao is looking at him, wide-eyed.
He presses his mouth on Zitao’s tentatively, and they are incredibly soft for some reason.
He would blame it on the alcohol running through his veins later, but he nudges at Zitao’s lips with his own till they part, and then he sucks on Zitao’s bottom lip. Something akin to a gasp leaves Zitao’s throat and he is still static beneath Wu Fan. Wu Fan tugs harder and then Zitao is kissing him back, tongue against Wu Fan’s lips. He tastes of alcohol and the faint trace of mint.
Wu Fan hears the countdown finish, but he’s still kissing Zitao, and Zitao is still kissing him. His hands hurt a little from propping himself up but Zitao’s lips on his are almost addictive, and the sounds that Zitao is making sounds like music in his ears. He nibbles on his Zitao’s lip, and is pleased to hear another gasps from Zitao.
They only pull apart when Amber taps Wu Fan on the shoulder and ask them to please get a room. Zitao’s cheeks are still flushed red, and he eyes Wu Fan almost shyly.
o4. qmi; cupcakes and true love
Running a bakery doesn’t make a person good at baking. In fact, Zhou Mi is decidedly bad at anything baking related. There’s just something about the process that completely eludes him. He’s lucky that he owns the bakery, and thus is able to hire people to bake for him. Ryeowook is a genius with flour and butter, and Henry has a way with icing and whipped cream. Zhou Mi lounges around the shop and smiles at customers.
It isn’t like Zhou Mi hasn’t tried. He has. Ryeowook has stayed back past midnight to guide him numerous times, perched on the edge of a table. Stir it with love Zhou Mi Ryeowook says, fingers tapping on his phone; use your hands Zhou Mi.
Ryeowook gives up in three days.
(He is nice about it though. He writes Zhou Mi a short letter, ending it with “I am sure we can find something you are good at!”)
There is a music store on the opposite side of the street. Zhou Mi enjoys the place because they have a wide selection of Chinese music. Henry is disappointed at their lack of Justin Bieber.
“They replaced the guy who worked at the music store,” Ryeowook says as he walks into the bakery the next morning, thin fingers tapping on his phone.
Zhou Mi hums a reply. He is curled up in one the single-seat sofas, head nestled in his arms on one of the hand-rest. It’s too early for him to be awake. He usually goes to the bakery mid-morning, instead of 7:00am, when the sky is still dusty with night. Henry is sitting in the sofa opposite him, leg propped up on the table and head tilted back in sleep, mouth agape.
o5. hunhan; parallel dimensions
Sehun stretches his hand towards the open window, palm out. He wonders if Lu Han is doing the same on the other side, wonders if Lu Han is watching as moonlight filter through the gaps between his open fingers just like he is doing.
It was something they used to do. Lu Han would curl against Sehun, back against the latter’s chest, and they would watch the night sky through the window. Sometimes, Lu Han would reach out a hand, pretend to grab a star, saying that it’s for Sehun, and Sehun would reach out his own fingers to fill in the gaps between Lu Han’s fingers.
I love you. Three words, ten letters. It’s such an easy phrase, something everyone learns from young, regardless of the language they speak. Yet in the right circumstances, escaped from the right mouth, written on the right piece of paper and proclaimed by the right person, it can be so infinitely powerful.
And painful.
Sometimes, Sehun wonders what would be their lives now if they didn’t have to part.
o1. kaisoo; reaper!kai / human!kyungsoo
From as far back as he can remember, Jongin has always been this.
Reaper, bringer of death, darkness, evil, destroyer of worlds.
Of course, he is not the only one. There’s baby-faced Lu Han who specializes in guiding the souls of children into the afterlife, soft hand engulfing their smaller, even smoother ones. His smile is assuring, gentle, and Jongin had been amazed the first time he saw Lu Han bringing a soul in, chatting with it even as he led it towards the gate.
Except Lu Han is not as nice as he seems to be, after all he is a reaper. Often, Jongin finds him lazing around the common room; game controller in his hands even as the gadget hooked on the waist of his pants flashes an insistent red.
“You do know that means that there is a lost child soul wandering around in your area, waiting for you to bring it to peace, right?” Jongin had asked once.
Lu Han had paused the game to look at him, and there had been a darkness swirling in his huge eyes that made Jongin shiver.
“I know.”
Jongin walks back to his room as the sound of Lu Han’s video game filled the air.
o2. the avengers!exo (taoris; girl!kai)
Like every good story, it starts with a party.
Baekhyun sighs internally when he sees Kai walk towards him, shot of vodka held precariously between her thumb and finger. He doesn’t understand how she’s still upright, especially with the ridiculous number of shots she has had and those sparkly silver heels she is wearing.
“We need you for a mission,” she whispers into his ear, leaning down towards him, ebony black hair tickling his cheek, “it’s about Tao, we think he’s back.”
He feels himself straighten up in interest. It had almost a year since the events with Tao. He was starting to believe that that was the end of it. Apparently not.
o3. taoris; spin the bottle
They are playing a game of spin the bottle. So far, Wu Fan has managed to not have to kiss anyone. All he has done is lean back against a wall and watch as Songqian giggles as she presses her lips against Baekhyun’s, holds it for three, precise, seconds before she shuffles back to her place in the circle, giggling even more incessantly than before. She spins the bottle and it points to Zitao, who freezes when he notices.
Wu Fan watches in amusement as Zitao stands up stiffly before he walks to where Songqian is sitting and kneels awkwardly in front of her. His cheeks have blossomed into a cherry red, and Wu Fan remembers something about how Zitao had something of a crush for Songqian or something. Zitao leans forward just enough so that his lips and Songqian’s are just brushing, and he holds it there for the necessary three seconds and shuffles back, almost tripping on his legs as he does so.
“This is lame, let’s increase the time to 10 seconds,” Jongin drawls out, and is met with slurred approvals and a lone catcall.
Zitao spins the bottle, and it lands on -
Him.
Wu Fan stares at the bottle for a long time, and only starts to move when Sehun asks him to hurry up. He finds himself crawling the short distance that spans between him and Zitao, and Zitao is looking at him, wide-eyed.
He presses his mouth on Zitao’s tentatively, and they are incredibly soft for some reason.
He would blame it on the alcohol running through his veins later, but he nudges at Zitao’s lips with his own till they part, and then he sucks on Zitao’s bottom lip. Something akin to a gasp leaves Zitao’s throat and he is still static beneath Wu Fan. Wu Fan tugs harder and then Zitao is kissing him back, tongue against Wu Fan’s lips. He tastes of alcohol and the faint trace of mint.
Wu Fan hears the countdown finish, but he’s still kissing Zitao, and Zitao is still kissing him. His hands hurt a little from propping himself up but Zitao’s lips on his are almost addictive, and the sounds that Zitao is making sounds like music in his ears. He nibbles on his Zitao’s lip, and is pleased to hear another gasps from Zitao.
They only pull apart when Amber taps Wu Fan on the shoulder and ask them to please get a room. Zitao’s cheeks are still flushed red, and he eyes Wu Fan almost shyly.
o4. qmi; cupcakes and true love
Running a bakery doesn’t make a person good at baking. In fact, Zhou Mi is decidedly bad at anything baking related. There’s just something about the process that completely eludes him. He’s lucky that he owns the bakery, and thus is able to hire people to bake for him. Ryeowook is a genius with flour and butter, and Henry has a way with icing and whipped cream. Zhou Mi lounges around the shop and smiles at customers.
It isn’t like Zhou Mi hasn’t tried. He has. Ryeowook has stayed back past midnight to guide him numerous times, perched on the edge of a table. Stir it with love Zhou Mi Ryeowook says, fingers tapping on his phone; use your hands Zhou Mi.
Ryeowook gives up in three days.
(He is nice about it though. He writes Zhou Mi a short letter, ending it with “I am sure we can find something you are good at!”)
There is a music store on the opposite side of the street. Zhou Mi enjoys the place because they have a wide selection of Chinese music. Henry is disappointed at their lack of Justin Bieber.
“They replaced the guy who worked at the music store,” Ryeowook says as he walks into the bakery the next morning, thin fingers tapping on his phone.
Zhou Mi hums a reply. He is curled up in one the single-seat sofas, head nestled in his arms on one of the hand-rest. It’s too early for him to be awake. He usually goes to the bakery mid-morning, instead of 7:00am, when the sky is still dusty with night. Henry is sitting in the sofa opposite him, leg propped up on the table and head tilted back in sleep, mouth agape.
o5. hunhan; parallel dimensions
Sehun stretches his hand towards the open window, palm out. He wonders if Lu Han is doing the same on the other side, wonders if Lu Han is watching as moonlight filter through the gaps between his open fingers just like he is doing.
It was something they used to do. Lu Han would curl against Sehun, back against the latter’s chest, and they would watch the night sky through the window. Sometimes, Lu Han would reach out a hand, pretend to grab a star, saying that it’s for Sehun, and Sehun would reach out his own fingers to fill in the gaps between Lu Han’s fingers.
I love you. Three words, ten letters. It’s such an easy phrase, something everyone learns from young, regardless of the language they speak. Yet in the right circumstances, escaped from the right mouth, written on the right piece of paper and proclaimed by the right person, it can be so infinitely powerful.
And painful.
Sometimes, Sehun wonders what would be their lives now if they didn’t have to part.