gnabstay

[gnabstay]

DAUYUM!!

→ 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚜, 𝚟𝚘𝚕. 1

[gnabstay]

DANG

i didn't know how much i needed felix screaming "sing that shit" until right now

[gnabstay]

STRAY KIDS FANFIC

The ochre dust devils danced across the cracked earth of what was once the Australian Outback, a perpetual rust-colored shroud under a merciless sun. Buildings in the distance shimmered like mirages, hollowed-out shells against the vast, empty horizon. For two years, Minho had roamed this desolate landscape, his existence a solitary battle against the harsh elements and the lingering threat of the Slow Burn. It hadn't swept through with violent speed, but had leached the life, leaving behind a parched and broken world.

He’d learned that trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford, the desperation of the scattered survivors twisting them into predators. Until he stumbled upon the billabong.

Hidden within a rocky outcrop, fed by a resilient underground spring, it was a pocket of unexpected life. Lush reeds swayed in the gentle breeze, and the air hummed with the buzz of insects. And there, knee-deep in the cool water, fishing with a makeshift spear, was Jisung.

Jisung was an anomaly. His features spoke of a Korean heritage, a stark contrast to the rugged landscape. He was lean and quick, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings, yet there was a quiet grace in his movements as he navigated the water. He was wary, his posture suggesting a readiness to flee, but there was also a determined resilience in the set of his jaw.

Their initial encounters were cautious, marked by a mutual apprehension. Minho would leave offerings – dried kangaroo jerky he’d painstakingly prepared, a salvaged water canteen – near the edge of the billabong. Jisung would reciprocate with a string of small fish or a handful of edible roots he’d foraged. Days bled into weeks with only the silent exchange of sustenance.

The slow burn wasn’t just the name of the catastrophe; it mirrored the hesitant stirring within Minho. He found himself observing Jisung, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead as he focused on his task, the rare moments when a soft melody, hummed under his breath, escaped his lips. A fierce protectiveness began to coil within Minho, an instinct to shield this unexpected spark of life in the desolation.

One sweltering afternoon, a fierce dust storm descended, turning the already hazy air into an impenetrable brown fog. Minho, caught miles from his meager shelter, found himself seeking refuge near the billabong's rocky overhang.

He found Jisung huddled there, his small frame trembling slightly. The wind howled outside, a primal scream echoing the unease within Minho. He offered the roughspun cloth he used as a shawl, and for the first time, their eyes truly connected, a flicker of something beyond mere survival passing between them.

The oppressive silence began to yield to hesitant words. They shared fragments of their pasts – Minho’s memories of the vibrant coastal cities, Jisung’s recollections of Seoul, the bustling streets and the music that had filled his life. He spoke with a quiet passion about a group called Stray Kids, their songs a source of comfort and strength even now. Minho, whose musical tastes leaned towards the heavier side, found himself strangely moved by the emotion in Jisung’s voice as he described their lyrics.

The darkness of their reality was a constant shadow. The scarcity of resources, the occasional encounters with desperate and dangerous individuals, the gnawing solitude – it all weighed heavily. But in each other’s presence, a fragile warmth began to grow. Minho found a fierce solace in Jisung’s quiet determination, and Jisung seemed to find a sense of security in Minho’s watchful presence.

Their bond deepened, a slow, deliberate intertwining like the roots of the ancient eucalyptus trees that dotted the ravaged landscape. It wasn't a tender courtship; it was a raw, primal connection forged in the face of annihilation, tinged with the ever-present threat of loss. Minho’s protectiveness morphed into something possessive, a fierce need to keep Jisung safe, his alone in this broken world. He found himself indulging in dark fantasies of them being the last two souls under the vast Australian sky, where his gaze was the only one that would ever fall upon Jisung.

One day, while scavenging through the skeletal remains of a roadside diner, they unearthed a solar-powered music player. Miraculously, it still functioned. Jisung’s eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and joy when he found a Stray Kids album etched onto a scratched data chip. As the music filled the desolate air around the billabong, a vibrant energy cutting through the silence of the outback, they sat close, a fragile intimacy blooming in the harsh landscape.

Minho watched Jisung, his face illuminated by the flickering light of their small fire, a soft smile gracing his lips as he mouthed the Korean lyrics. In that moment, amidst the desolation and the ever-present threat, Minho knew his existence had found a new, unexpected center. His survival was no longer a solitary struggle; it was inextricably linked to this resilient man from a distant land, who found solace in the echoes of a Korean boy band.

Their love story wasn't a romantic idyll. It was a slow burn in the heart of a ruined Australia, a dark and possessive devotion born from shared hardship and the desperate yearning for connection in a world stripped bare. It was a love that clung to the faintest whispers of hope, fueled by the music of Stray Kids and the primal instinct to survive, together, under the vast and unforgiving sky.

[gnabstay]

MY CUTIE

Gifsets of Lee Felix ↳ watching everyone else play – skz code ep. 56 | DO NOT REPOST