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[lazuli-writes]

Sighs

summary: San scolds his duckie

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Choi San

genre: smut / porn with barely any plot

estimated word count: 1000 words

a/n: Merry Christmas and happy holidays 🩵 This was inspired by their majesty themself, @atiny-piratequeen mahalo nui loa for both the inspiration and positive energy sharing you’ve given me to be able to complete this—I can’t believe this wip was born in late October… and I actually completed it, thank you so much motha!! Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Donghyuck’s grip tightened as time seemed to halt. The sensations that danced in and around him, swallowed Donghyuck whole. Consuming him and leaving him nearly pliant, with all his strength being used to ground himself in his embrace of San.

“P-plea-”

“Quiet.”

One command. One simple command was all it took for Donghyuck to mentally retract. His mind rushing to fill his train of thoughts, left empty by his gradual impaling upon San’s cock.

The elder lathered his neck with love bites. Lips, tongue and teeth all gradually traveling across Donghyuck’s neck and collarbones like a calligraphy pen, imprinting its identity upon its canvas.

“I told you to trust me”

Donghyuck whimpered, the spearing upon his core barely starting and already he was breaking at the seems. His limbs that trapped and locked itself around San’s neck and waist shivered under the desired invasion.

“I told you to be quiet… why couldn’t you?”

“I-I-“

“Quiet!”

Donghyuck screamed as a spongy head first kissed the realm of his prostate, before suddenly weighing down upon it viciously. San, leeching harder upon the younger’s neck, paid no mind to the pleasurable wails coming from the one sitting upon him.

Spots and darkness started to flood Donghyuck’s vision as he still awaited for San to fully sheath himself. This was the deed that almost always took the longest. San was nothing short of impressive in all that he did and all that he was.

And it left little for Donghyuck to wonder on why the simple act of inserting himself into the younger was always a prolonged activity.

“One thing I asked of you tonight. One thing. And you couldn’t even do that.”

Donghyuck was trapped between heaven and hell. The immeasurable divinity he felt under San’s every kiss, bite, touch and caress clashed with the sharpness of his lover’s words. He should have been able to do it. He should have kept his bratty mouth shut. He should have kept those mean and jealous words from spilling.

And yet he didn’t.

And now he would pay back what was due.

“I’m s-sorry… I’m so sorry h-hyung.”

Donghyuck’s struggled to voice his thoughts through the hiccups that infected his vocal cords, a side effect of the ever growing tension building within his core. Growing like a wildfire. A volcano simmering and stewing in its heat. Pressure building from within, awaiting for the prime moment to rupture and explode.

The sudden press of San’s hips against his shivering rear left Donghyuck’s sanity nearly depleted, with San as the only foundation left for him to mentally stand upon.

“You know… that was very bratty of you. To run your mouth to your dongsaengs like that.”

Each word from the elder became pronounced with a thrust of his hips into Donghyuck. The younger could barely maintain what little sanity he had left with every new bruising kiss to his core. Only tears could spill down his naked form as Donghyuck hid his face in shame and pleasure within the crook of San’s neck.

San eased his grip on his mate’s waist as his thrusts slowed to a halt, the elder’s nerves finally thawing with every sob Donghyuck struggled to hide. The elder’s once vexed demeanor crumbling under the weight of Donghyuck’s tears.

“Duckie… why didn’t you listen to me? I told you to trust me. To let me handle them. Why could you not do that… just this once?”

Pulling back to gather a look upon the other half of his soul, San would thank their current bodily position—with his cock cradled by the gods gift to him—for it was the only reason his heart didn’t shatter at the sight before him. Of his Donghyuck falling into the depths of his emotions, tears staining his cheeks and soft hiccups choking his baby.

“B-because….”

Donghyuck paused, taking a second to gather the last of his thoughts as a finger that wasn’t his own wiped away his tears. The younger’s grip on the elder didn’t falter in its desperation in being close to his mate, tightening as Donghyuck accepted the weight of San’s forehead upon his own. The two sharing a breath, with only each other in their entirety.

“Because you’re mine.”

Donghyuck barely spoke those words aloud when the sudden crush of San’s lips met his own. A warmth consumed Donghyuck further and further as he suddenly found himself enclosed between the sheets beneath him and San blanketing him completely.

And with barely a moment to catch his breath, Donghyuck felt San’s apology and adoration.

He felt San’s apology with the fingers that danced upon his skin. Traversing from its place upon his hips until it secured itself upon Donghyuck’s neck and jaw.

He felt San’s adoration when the elder’s other hand grasped Donghyuck’s cute cock. Fondling the adorable appendage, circling its head and stroking it to a desperate completion.

Donghyuck could only hold on tighter to his hyung before his lungs let loose a torrent of pleasured sighs. With his mind slowly ascending too high in the clouds and his release painting much of San’s navel white.

“My duckie.”

San almost chuckled at the way his words went unheard, as the now relaxing form of his boyfriend began to slip from its embrace to the elder. San was quick in maneuvering his love to lay limply upon their bed as he hovered over Donghyuck, like a beast delighting in its prey before completely devouring him.

“I-I… I sorry hyu-“

Donghyuck’s slurred words were cut off with another soulful kiss from San. The elder’s lips and tongue controlling the younger completely. Forever breathtaking, all consuming and irrevocably powerful in leaving San’s soul imprinted upon Donghyuck’s very own.

“I forgive you my duckie.”

And with those last few words, Donghyuck granted his beloved hyung a soft smile of acceptance before using the last of his strength to interlock his fingers with San’s as he awaited for more.

A sigh was all Donghyuck could grant San as the elder soon closed the space between the two.

[lazuli-writes]

Esta Noche

summary: You meet Chanyeol at a small pub.

pairing: Reader x Park Chanyeol

genre: suggestive / song fic

estimated word count: 1000 words

a/n: I can’t believe I found this! This was one of my first ever fic I ever wrote. This was written at the height of my Ariana Grande obsession and was very much inspired by this song by Ariana & Bia. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

𝘌𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘦

Despite the many other bodies that graced the makeshift dance floor of the esoteric pub, you couldn’t seem to care about whether someone was eyeing you or not.

The large wooden shack that made up the small town’s heart and nightlife was in the midst of its rush hours.

Drinks were running from bartender to customer like wind. Music spilled from the band and their beautiful instruments, playing a hypnotic array of sounds that intoxicated the people more than their own drinks.

You let loose on the dance floor. The gentle sway of your hips, the way your hair bounced, the way your mouth chanted the lyrics to the band’s music as the addicting beat of their instruments made you move.

All of it was just enough to have you moving side to side without a care in the world.

𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴

As the band’s music continued on, its hypnotic sound prompting you like so many others to enjoy the moment. You continued on with your easy movements.

Shifting your eyes around you, you could make out many others who were also in the midst of a state of peace and euphoria. Not having to worry about the struggles off of the dance floor or outside of the pub doors.

Tracing one end of the dance floor to the next, your eyes froze when a certain figure caught your attention. To the common eye, it was just another, dancing the stress of life away, just like you. But your eyes held firm. It had barely been a few seconds of you discovering the man before his eyes met your own.

𝘓𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴

He was deliciously tall but not lanky. Defined and slender, yet you could tell his muscles were a prize from probably months of working out. His round face held in place the visual of a statue. Soft and graceful. His eyes held orbs of a dark bronze that pierced the space between the two of you. Whilst his hair, the plot of platinum on his head shined in the rural lighting of the pub.

Whether it was you or him who moved closer, it didn’t matter. The lingering stares at eachother as the music played with your bodies like majestic puppets, brought the two of you closer and closer until finally the chasm between you and him vanished.

As the music was persistent in its ventures in keeping your body moving, the stranger had somehow found his way behind you.

This wasn’t like you. This was a stranger, someone you didn’t know. But for some reason, you just didn’t care. Pulling the man’s hands from behind you, your movements had his body enclose your own with his soft but firm embrace.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯' 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳

“A nice night for a dance isn’t it”

A hum of your own was the only answer you gave. Allowing yourself to fall under the spell of both the stranger and the music, you let yourself fall deeper into his embrace.

Your back now pressed against his chest. His thin button-up was like a layer of saran-wrap, barely protecting his stiff figure from your nerves that felt the small definitions of his body.

“well I’m glad I could help you enjoy such a moment.”

The smile that arose on your face was enough for him to confirm that you were okay and not worrying about him being a stranger to you.

“I’m Chanyeol, and you are?”

The smallest smile graced your lips, as you enjoyed the heat growing between the two of you even more as he pressed closer.

“Y/n.”

With your names out of the way, the two of you continued on with your night as the music latched its powerful claws into the two of you.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢

You held no clue to how this would play out. But as song after song flew by, and as people came and gone from the dance floor, you and Chanyeol remained. Together. Enjoying each other’s presence. As if you were stars in the sky.

Just as the stars danced in the night sky no matter the dilemma, no matter the scene. You and Chanyeol moved in unison. His hands remained clasped respectfully over your stomach. Your own hands grasping his as you held on to him the same way he held on to you. Close.

With every step back, your bodies intentionally collided. With every step forward, your bodies met again. The friction between the two of you were both warranted to produce a reaction.

With the band ongoing with the strings of harmonies and chilling cords. Chanyeol and yourself danced away the night. The pub transformed from throughout your time together. By the time of the last song rung out, the pair of you remained alone, latched together on the dance floor.

Chanyeol’s head remained on your shoulder as light, warm kisses littered your neck. You yourself were busy swaying with him, your head leaning back on his shoulder and eyes closed and your hands gripped one another.

“I would ask to buy you a drink, but it would seem that the liquor is all bound up by now.”

His calm words sent vibrations across your neck as he continued to leave small nips and lovemarks.

“It would seem so. But it’s only midnight…”

Turning your head to face his, he pulled back to stare at you. Those dark bronze orbs of his kept a scrunched expression before a second of realization dawned on him. A smirk appeared on his face before he softly attacked your neck again.

Holding you close as you continued swaying with him, you could feel his grip on you tighten barely before he pressed on with your notion.

“If that’s the case. May I buy you a drink my dear?”

Your own smirk appeared as a blush invaded your cheeks. Silently nodding as you broke from his embrace, you turned to face him. Holding his hands you stared at him completely. You were quick to make your response or else you feared you would get lost in those beautiful bronze eyes.

“I would love that.”

And with your words announced to the world, the two of you were quick to gather your things, leaving the small pub before heading out to adventure more within that small town.

And without a single ounce of regret, you and Chanyeol explored the world under the moonlight. With nothing but the intention to enjoy tonight.

𝘌𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘰

[lazuli-writes]

What we’re not gonna do is this

[lazuli-writes]

Can I request angst-y oneshot with Ateez you can choose the plot but I just want see San centric please

Hi there anonnie, I’m so sorry darling but I currently don’t do requests. I don’t have the skills to be able to successfully tackle such a feat so apologize for that.

[lazuli-writes]

Starlight

summary: Yunho was your favorite love game.

pairing: Reader x Jeong Yunho

genre: angst / cosmic au

estimated word count: 700 words

a/n: This was inspired a by a Bang Chan moodboard that I had made a long time ago—if you wish to see, visit my moodboard acc @lazuli-mbs thank you. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

"Do you ever get tired of doing this?"

Yunho’s question made your breath hitch. It was only then you noticed the lack of subtle movements between the two of you as you both laid bare in bed together.

Facing him as he looked at you for an answer, you could make out the droplet of doubt lingering in the way his lips curled and eyebrows rose.

You sighed, almost annoyed at his inquiry but not surprised. "Yunho… this has nothing to do with you. I thought you knew that."

"But it does. It has everything to do with me" he pressed on, sitting up now as he made way to stand his ground, "how can you say that every night you spend with me is because you love me, just to end up leaving? You make your emotions so clear every single time that I- do you even care about me? How about the way I feel? Do you even care?"

"You're being selfish."

Your response was cruel and you knew it. But a fire was ignited in your chest at his words. It strangled your soul with both truth and animosity.

Pulling the large silk blanket from your skin, you pushed yourself off of the bed as you aimed to redress yourself and exit Yunho’s life once again.

"Me! Selfish!"

"Yes! You are being selfish."

Your raised voice and quick movements to pull your pants up and grab your shirt, prompted Yunho to throw the silk covers off of himself and race to find his own undergarments.

"I'm selfish for wanting you to love me back?! I'm selfish for wanting you to end this stupid game you play!"

"I do love you! But I won't let anyone hold me down anymore. That includes you."

Yunho was quick to run to you as soon as his boxers were on. Catching your hand on his own as you moved for the door. Your eyes met as you took in the man that kept you in place with a soft but desperate grip. His eyes, wide saucers of sorrow and confusion. Of course he didn’t get it. How could he? He wasn’t your Yunho. He was just another copy. Another guilty pleasure in a long array of forbidden fruits you found yourself devouring with each new world you visited.

The wrinkled fabrics and innumerable love bites that once again covered your skin was a small fraction of the amount of distress and disorder that plagued you both emotionally and physically.

"Yunho, please. Just let me g- "

"No!"

You let your head fall as you felt the waves of desire, need and desperation exuded from Yunho. If only he was more simple minded like some of his otherworldly counterparts. Did you really have to do this? Yes. This is the only way.

"Look. I don't know why or what... happened. But don't leave me… please"

His plea extracted a single tear from your eye. Wiping away the droplet quickly and pulling your hand free from Yunho’s grip, you remained adamant in your venture to continue your life.

“Please!”

Yunho was painfully right in his earlier question. You were tired. Tired of your only constant being those small midnight moments. A different world. A different Yunho. Every single night. It was exhausting.

But never again could you suffer the same fate you had with the real Yunho. Your Yunho. At least this way, you could have every version of him, the good and the bad. You were finally the one in control of your love, and you won't exchange that for anything in any world.

"I'm not going to say sorry because I'm not. But I will tell you this Yunho. Move on. I know you can."

A reluctant sob broke the silence as Yunho collapsed to the floor, bombarded with grief of the love he no longer had. The once powerful pillar of strength and fortitude that almost every reality displayed with each new version of Jeong Yunho, now a shattered glass of loss and pain as this version had to endure what you had all that time ago.

And as his tears and echoes of sadness filled the empty air, you walked out of his life. With every step you took, a war of emotions struggled to break the surface of your frozen heart.

But as you raised your hand forward, opening the portal to the next world, all of your regrets and doubts were silenced.

This was the part you hated. Leaving him over and over. But as you stepped across the threshold of the door, you were ready to do it again.

You were ready to play your little love game.

[lazuli-writes]

Heaven

summary: Xiaojun riding a harley in Hawaiʻi.

pairing: Reader x Xiao Dejun | Xiaojun

genre: fluff / domestic

estimated word count: 400 words

a/n: Yes, this work is very much inspired by Katy Perry’s song “Harley’s in Hawaiʻi”. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Skies of pink and purple glowed neatly as the sun descended from sight against the horizon. The waves of the cool ocean were light and repetitive as it brushed against the sand dunes of the shore.

The lonely road was a barrier between the sunset kissed beach and the sleeping valley that remained covered in a shroud of green life.

As the wind ripped passed Dejun’s ears, his hands remained tightly around your waist, his chin sat on your shoulders and he held you close as if his life depended on it.

Because it did. Well, kind of.

The roaring of the harley filled the air as you sped down the empty road. Dejun held you close, his fingers grasping, arms encasing and soul intertwining with yours as you pushed the harley to speeds that were likely illegal. Of course Dejun didn't mind, he knew you wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt him. However, as the tourist this time around in the relationship, he couldn’t help but worry for you. He didn’t want you having to fight for your life with law enforcement over something avoidable.

Despite the worry that simmered deep down, the thrill was breathtaking. It was moments like these that made his heart do cartwheels. Nothing could compare to the simplicity of just being with you. Together like this. Driving between a sunset and a tranquil valley. It was simple. It was fun. It was so you.

The slowing of the motorcycle brought Dejun out of his thoughts. "Why'd you stop?" He asked as he pulled his head from its spot on your shoulder.

A red traffic light struggled to shine against the sun's waning glare. And you turned your head curiously towards your lover.

"Because... The light is red."

"That never stopped you before."

Your face heated up swiftly at his blunt honesty. Despite his innocent nature, you savored the moments where he tested his own boundaries.

"Might wanna hold on then."

The chuckles that left his lips were ones of pure happiness. In that moment, he could have hated how reckless you could possibly be. Or hated how he was stuck on the back of a motorcycle of a thrill seeker.

Instead, he cherished that moment, and so many more like them. Your words. Your voice. Your presence. The feeling of your body. Everything. Nothing in that moment mattered because there was nothing to worry about anymore. Not when they were together, under the embrace of both the sun and moon.

Readily returning to his place attached to your back. Gracing your shoulder with the weight of his head, the harley roared to life before taking off once more. Speeding forward on the empty highway, under the glow of pink and purple skies.

[lazuli-writes]

Brutal

summary: Jeonghan hates the avengers.

pairing: Parent Yoon Jeonghan & Son Lee Chan | Dino

genre: domestic / spy au

estimated word count: 800 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

This had to be the most dehumanizing thing Jeonghan had ever had to do.

Never in his entire existence had he ever been forced to endure such a strenuous and brutal torture on behalf of another. Like seriously, how did the tiny creature of his have the will power to sit through this god’s forsaken movie.

Two to three hours for a movie about people with powers time traveling to save the decimation of their peoples, it was exhausting. Jeonghan had wished to have returned to the underground life for only a split second. But the constant sounds exuding from his son was the only thing keeping the single father sane and grounded.

How Chan came to adore the Avengers must be Jeonghan’s greatest setback throughout his tenure as a father.

‘But then again, most seven year old boys liked this kind of stuff right?’

Jeonghan could only assume so. There was no way his son would be hypnotized by something so fictitious without it being in relation to his former occupation. Much to Jeonghan’s relief, it was not in most ways unrelated to his past career. So his worries about overly-exposing Chan were unfounded when it came to the Avengers. Hopefully it stayed that way.

“Thank you for the movie papa!”

Chan’s elated nature always found a way to bring light to Jeonghan’s broody nature. If being a single father meant enduring hours upon hours of cinema he didn’t understand; just to see a genuine smile on his child’s face… then Jeonghan agreed it was a decent enough trade.

Happiness did take time, the last time Jeonghan checked.

“It’s no problem Channie. But please can we watch something more… ‘fun’ next time?” Preferably some opera or some live theatre.

“What part of Avengers: Endgame wasn’t fun? It had everything! Fighting, jokes and fighting.”

“It would seem we have some very different definitions of the word fun.”

“No, you like watching ancient people screaming. I like watching superheroes.”

Jeonghan’s wipped down to his son’s direction so fast, brain processing and reprocessing his song’s crude depiction of real art.

“How dare you! Opera is a sophisticated art, only the greatest beings take pleasure in opera.”

Chan broke out in a fit of giggles at his father’s defense of the opera. Jeonghan however, puffed up his chest in an attempt to seem more durable in his son’s vision. As if that was gonna aid in changing his son’s mind.

His son’s laughter was one of the most cherished sounds Jeonghan could ever hear. He made that discovery after this one time when he slipped on some baby food that found its way on the floor. That was back during Jeonghan’s first few years as a dad. Chan’s screaming was just about to win over his sanity after he struggled to feed his son, a failed effort to halt his son’s tears. Jeonghan had thought in that moment, he would suffer his very first loss as a parent. Being forced to know he held the inability to comfort his own son.

But some spilled baby food and a single misstep was enough to bring the man to the ground. Oddly enough, he came down in the same manner that most animated characters do when stepping on a banana peel. And with the temporary pain that engulfed him, came out the bursting of laughter from Chan’s young mouth.

Granted, there has been a long journey and change from when Chan was an infant to now as a seven year old. But the sentiment remained. Jeonghan’s typical displeasure equated to some form of laughing outburst from his dear child.

“Don’t worry papa. I still love you and your screaming music.”

Jeonghan could only close his eyes and groan, triggering more giggles to erupt from Chan.

He was lucky Jeonghan loved him.

Love was surprisingly an inauspicious thing for Jeonghan. His parents, his siblings and almost every failed relationship. All of it seemed to have left a bitter taste on the former agent. But with Chan, love seemed different. At the expense of one life, Jeonghan had learned what true love was in this new life.

Chan was the center of his world. Nothing but his smile was the ultimate goal for Jeonghan to achieve. The former spy figured, since he failed at being a son, a brother and a lover, the least he could do is try to be the best father he could. At least then he’d be worthy of being loved.

And eventually through his efforts he was.

“Papa”

“Yes, little one?”

“Can we watch Black Widow tomorrow?”

“Now why would we watch a movie on a spider?”

“Not the spider papa” the happy child laughed out, “The Superhero. It comes after Avengers: Endgame.”

“Another superhero movie?”

Jeonghan’s exhausted tone does nothing to halt Chan’s optimism.

“Yes papa! Please!”

Another brutal couple hours of more superhero cinema he has yet to understand. Damn… he spoiled his son too much.

“Fine. After breakfast tomorrow we’ll come back and watch your revengers movie.”

“YAYYYYY!!!”

Chan’s quick little victory jump into the air and his radiant smile warmed Jeonghan’s heart, and just then he realized something for the hundredth time.

‘Maybe this won’t be so brutal after all.’

[lazuli-writes]

Sing

summary: Taeyong sings to his son.

pairing: Sire Lee Taeyong & Spawn Lee Donghyuck | Haechan

genre: angst (character death) / vampire au

estimated word count: 700 words

a/n: Based around the song Requiem On Water by Imperial Mammoth. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Please… please stay with me Haechan-ah.”

Dry tears and sobs escaped Taeyong as he struggled to contemplate the scene set before him. He couldn’t understand how it got this far. With the vampire holding his spawn, his only child in the numerous eons of his existence, holding Haechan close to his chest as the dark magic poisoned him from within.

He assumed that his spawn, his child, his Haechan, the light of his life, would be a force to be eternally reckoned with. But as this unearthly poison consumed the younger immortal, he had realized that was no longer the case.

“Taeyongie… Papa…. I-it…. It hurts.“

A thick cough erupted from Haechan’s lips, cutting off his broken whimpers and pleas viciously as Taeyong was left trembling. Struggling to entertain the thought of this being the end of the road for his Haechan.

The weak croaking in his dying voice and the wheezes made Taeyong’s frozen heart break. It was so… unnatural to see Haechan in such a state. His Haechan was a spitfire soul. His Haechan was an endless flame of love and energy. His Haechan was the sun, shining brightly and sharing his never ending light with the world. But from this pit of melancholy that consumed Taeyong, a new emotion trickled into his conscience.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry my son. Papa is so sorry he can’t fix this.”

His words came out in a near whisper as the pain forced him voice to diminish into a shattered mess.

Taeyong felt enraged. He could have prevented this. This shouldn’t have happened. All of this could have been avoided had he been faster. Better. Stronger.

“I-I know Yongie.”

Haechan’s strained voice was almost non-existent, to cruelly scratchy and gargling with viscous, rotten poison and blood. He hated it, Taeyong couldn’t stand the pain in his Haechannie’s voice.

Haechan’s weak grip held his hand softly. Taeyong could almost feel the faintest warmth of Haechan’s touch fade, becoming weaker, colder, emptier by the second. With his head in Taeyong’s lap and the elder’s eyes staring into the younger’s, Taeyong knew there was no possible way he could save Haechan in time.

Taeyong hated the mere thought of death having their way with his son.

It was a cruel twist of fate on both ends. With Haechan suffering for Taeyong’s past, and now Taeyong realizing that after nearly five millennia, he’d return to being something he absolutely hated. Alone.

Not wanting to ruin Haechan’s last minutes mewling over a situation Taeyong knew he couldn’t win, he just gripped his son tighter to his chest. Rubbing soft circles on his cheek, trying to mentally end his Channie’s suffering already.

Sighing and closing his eyes, he felt the pain of Haechan’s dying soul strangle his heartstrings. Ripping them out, root and stem, and crushing them one by one. Taeyong hated feeling like this. Helpless.

Haechan was an immortal being. An angel amongst the filth of mankind. Yet here he was, taking his last breaths because Taeyong himself was nothing like his Haechan. A kind soul. A sweet soul. A human soul. And his past actions have finally caught up to him, and has set to take his son from him.

“Can you… sing a song? Sing a song for me papa.”

Haechan’s words caught him off guard. Pulling Taeyong out of his thoughts that were now embossed with sorrow.

“What?”

“I always loved your voice… I-“ Another coughing fit, nearly strangling what little breath his son had “want it…. be the last thing I hear. Please papa.”

Every word from his mouth ate away at Taeyong’s sanity. But pulling himself together one last time, he began.

“The eyes that look up lifeless, from our twins below”

A weak but wholehearted smile appeared on Haechan’s face, as Taeyong’s angelic voice struggled to hold firm, and delivered its beautiful essence.

“Though your arms and legs are under,

Love will be the echo in your ears,”

Taeyong struggled to keep the sobs at bay as he caressed the breathing face of his son for the last time.

“when all is lost and plundered”

And as Taeyong sang despite his chains of sorrow, Haechan’s eyes slowly closed for the very last time. The disgusting black poison pooling out from every crevice on the younger’s beautiful, sun kissed skin.

“My love will be there still.”

And with the last whisper of their song, Taeyong could only roar in wrathful misery as he held his dead son in his arms.

[lazuli-writes]

Dream

summary: Jeonghan sings to his son.

pairing: Parent Yoon Jeonghan & Son Lee Chan | Dino

genre: domestic / spy au

estimated word count: 500 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Papa, can you sing me a lullaby please?”

The former agent froze at his son’s words. Of course he was familiar with what a lullaby was. But since when did being a singer ever come with the job of being a parent? Jeonghan sighed in slight annoyance, being a spy was easier than being a parent.

“Chan it’s already so late. Midnight in fact. Do you really need a lullaby to send you to bed, little one?”

Chan’s growing, toothy smile was a stark contrast to his obviously sleep ridden eyes. Eyes that struggled to even remain open.

“Yes.”

Jeonghan exhaled a small chuckle at Chan’s sleep ridden cheeriness. How he ended up with such a firecracker for a son will always leave him wondering.

‘I thought children were supposed to be products of their parents? This child is not broody, callous, nor holds a single droplet of wrath within his heart.’

Moving over to allow his father to lay down next to him, Chan’s smile maintained itself, in anticipation for another lullaby from his father.

“Tell me again why you want to-“

“Need. I need a lullaby papa.”

“Apologies, my bad. Tell me again why you ‘need’ to hear a lullaby before you close your eyes.”

Jeonghan watched with a softened heart as his son looked up to the man with nothing but wonder in his eyes.

“Because! Uncle Shua said that if you go to sleep happy, then you’ll have happy dreams. And I want happy dreams!”

Jeonghan thought back to that moment, way back when he had first become a single father. Escaping a life of espionage was difficult. Leaving said life to start anew as a single parent…. even more difficult.

Chan was four when Joshua stopped the two one day at a nearby park. Jeonghan was consumed with rage and worry at that time. Fearing his former coworker had come on behalf of the league for another mission, or worse. To come and take his Chan away—For no spy can work successfully when they have things that they love… as Wonwoo had always said, love was the death of duty and vice versa—Jeonghan wasn’t exactly ecstatic at his visit.

Luckily, Joshua was just visiting, and stopped to say hello. Chan was in awe with Joshua’s stories of adventurous spies and secret warriors who fought in the dark. And how if you go to sleep wanting something, you can sometimes dream of want it is you want. Jeonghan was too busy in a sour mood to notice his son internalizing every little word from the only piece of his father’s life prior to Chan’s presence.

“I see you took your uncle’s words to heart, little one.”

Chan nodded calmly at Jeonghan’s words.

“Well, since you so desperately love to dream happy things, may I start that lullaby?”

“What does desk-er-tly mean?”

Jeonghan neatly shushed the young one before starting.

Hush now my little one

Please don’t you cry

Lay your head down

On my shoulder and sigh

The sun has gone away

Papa will pray

Silence will keep all, while you’re asleep

Jeonghan’s humming of the last few notes at the end, was just enough for Chan to succumb to the realm of slumber. And Jeonghan could smile at the precious sight before him.

“Goodnight my son.”

Leaving his son with a soft kiss to the forehead, Jeonghan walked out and onto his own bed, hoping to possibly have wonderful and bright dreams as well that night.

[lazuli-writes]

Cosmetology

summary: Donghyuck has a crush on someone who confuses stars and makeup.

pairing: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee

genre: domestic / apocalypse au

estimated word count: 400 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Sixty-three, sixty-four, sixt—“

“Sixty five.”

Donghyuck got up quickly, turning to the new voice behind him. Mark. The most extraordinarily average dude left in the apocalypse.

“Hey Lee.”

“Hey Lee.”

Donghyuck smiled lightly as Mark proceeded to take a seat beside him, on the roof of the Griffith Observatory. Turning his head back to the night sky, Mark followed suit.

“What exactly are you doing?”

Donghyuck’s smile grew just a bit smaller at Mark’s curiosity. He typically wasn’t one to ask questions, so it ignited a small flare inside himself to know that Mark was the slightest bit interested in something about the younger.

Gesturing towards the sky, Donghyuck was quick with his response. “I like to count the stars on some nights. Usually, the ash and smoke from the fires or just leftover dust left in the atmosphere blocks out the stars. So I just try to find all the stars in the sky.”

A small smile found its way upon Mark’s own lips as the calming thought of stargazing graced his mind.

“Me and Nana stargazed once, it was really fun.”

And there goes Donghyuck’s smile. Of course he couldn’t even breathe without the constant reminder that the guy he was crushing on was already in a relationship. With someone better, with someone more beautiful, with Nana. Jaemin.

Granted the name didn’t really match the personality, you would have to be foolish to even slightly discredit Nana. He was just simply, a badass. ‘Maybe even more so than Johnny’ but Donghyuck would never openly admit that.

“I never took you for one of them people that’s into cosmetology.”

Confusion consumed Donghyuck’s face so swiftly that Mark seemed to notice something was evidently wrong. Of course Mark was nothing more than confused himself.

“What?”

“Do you mean cosmology?”

Mark now faced to her seemed to sink into more confusion at the younger’s question.

“That’s what I said.”

“No. You said cos-Meh-tology. I said cos-mall-logy.”

“Yeah, cosmetology, the study of the stars.”

Donghyuck felt his eye twitch at Mark’s words. Equally bewildered and exasperated at the elder’s statement.

“No. Cosmology is the studies of the stars. Cosmetology, cos-MEH-tology is the studies and practice of make up and beautification.”

Donghyuck could only internally face palm at the way Mark’s mouth circled largely in realization.

“No wonder Nana looked at me like I had two heads when I said that to him.”

Donghyuck only sighed in exasperation. Now, all he could think of was one sarcastic thing in this moment.

‘This is the guy I have a crush on.’

[lazuli-writes]

Leave

summary: Donghyuck finds himself in over his head after traversing space and time.

pairing: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & NCT

genre: angst / sci-fi

estimated word count: 2000 words

a/n: If it’s not clear, essentially hyuck discovered a pathway to the second dimension… and well things there are little too good to be true. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“But why would you ever want to leave hyung?”

Donghyuck whipped in the direction of those words. Other-Jisung stared at him, those eyes of gold, once something Donghyuck thought so fascinating when he first arrived in this second dimension. Now seemed calculating, expectant and possibly even… soulless.

“Sungie… you know I can’t stay. This…”

Donghyuck paused, gesturing to the perfect blue skies, the painfully bright green of the plants, the rushing sapphire of the river nearby, and the group of others, these other versions of his friends, his family, his brothers. All of them happy, smiling, laughing, playing together without a care in the world. Their inhumane eyes shining so bright, and their laughters almost sounding too high to be his brothers. Donghyuck pointed out, trying to show the Other-Jisung just how unnaturally perfect this new world was for someone like himself. Donghyuck wasn’t meant for something so perfect. He wasn’t deserving of it. 

“This isn’t my world. I… I just don’t fit in here. I don’t want to ruin all that you have here.”

Other-Jisung jerked in horror and disgust at the elder’s words. Donghyuck almost winced at the way the younger seemed to morph into pure wrath for only a second before cooling his expression, taking a second to inhale and exhale before starting.

“How could you ever think so low of yourself hyung… I don’t get it! Do people of this… alternate world of yours… do they make you feel like this?”

Other-Jisung’s words came out more like an accusation, rather than a question. And Donghyuck couldn’t stop the icy feeling that crept upon his skin as he stared at the boy before him.

When Donghyuck dived into that pond hoping to escape his members and his idol life for just a moment, he never expected to fall through space and time. The second dimension was everything Donghyuck wanted in the world. 

Never ending sunshine. Birds singing, dogs dancing across the fields, the fish gracing the water in schools. The cool wind carried the perfect aroma. His brothers, all together, all of them: peaceful, unburdened and happy. And himself, present to experience it all. 

This was Haechan’s world. 

And so Donghyuck had made it his little secret. His newest prized possession. The perfect world to break from the bondages of reality. And the first few times he came in and out, Donghyuck had been enraptured, mesmerized and beyond enamored at the sanctity of the Other World. 

But the longer he stayed, the more the perfection became imperfect. The sun shined for too long. The birds sang the same song every day. The wind had started to grow cold under the rays of the sun.

But the heaviest to bear, was his new relationships with his Other-brothers.

The Other-hyungs were exceptionally protective over his every need and desires. The simplest wish for food would see Other-Doyoung cook him a feast and more some… only for Donghyuck. The mere idea of someone not Donghyuck, eating the food Other-Doyoung had prepared for him, saw the chef explode in wrath. A splinter from a tree saw Other-Johnny set the tree aflame. Other-Taeyong even followed some stranger who had simply looked at Donghyuck in a way the Other had hated.

The Other-dongsaengs however, at first Donghyuck adored the way they fretted over his every move. He enjoyed the way they followed him around. And he enjoyed the way they reciprocated every piece of touch, love and appreciation he gave them. 

Yet, it took no longer than a few weeks for Donghyuck to finally open his eyes to what he believed to be their perception of him.

“I love Channie-hyung!”

“Haechannie, wanna play Fortnite with me?”

“Haechan-ah, are you okay?”

“Leave our Haechan alone!”

“Haechannie…”

“Haechan-ah…”

Haechan.

It was as Donghyuck first realized. This was Haechan’s world. The second dimension served as Haechan’s paradise. 

But he wasn’t just Haechan, he was also Lee Donghyuck.

And so, the first mention of his birth name came about and soon after, Donghyuck was forced to endure the silent spiral of suspicion and hovering from the other members. 

There was barely a moment where eyes weren’t on him every time he graced the second world with his presence. 

He didn’t miss the way Other-Jungwoo would scrunch his face when Donghyuck mentioned anything about the Others’ counterparts in his world. Or the way Other-Renjun’s eyes darkened at the mention of tiny anecdotes of his members. He especially didn’t miss the way almost all of his Other-brothers never uttered his name, his true name. Donghyuck. Despite hearing him mention it on occasion, not once have the others ever taken the second to even whisper the name.

All of it was culminating, Donghyuck knew that for sure. Bound to rupture and ensnare both his heart and theirs. And Donghyuck was terrified of which way the coin was going to land. His Other-brothers have never given him a reason to be afraid or worried in any way possible. 

But Donghyuck never enjoyed confrontation. 

And he’d be lying if he said he had his doubts on the way this one was going to play out. The fact that it came in the form of Other-Jisung was enough to throw enough of Donghyuck’s game and mental fortitude out into the abyss.

“No, not really.” Donghyuck whimpered out. His mind flashing back to the latest scolding he got for being overbearing again. It spoke volumes that he couldn’t remember which hyung snapped at him this time—had he become accustomed to the spite and disinterest of his family, to the point where everything simply blurred over as one and the same.

He didn’t want to admit that.

“What do you mean not really?”

Other-Jisung was rapid in his response, head tilting and a dangerous look in his eyes. Donghyuck felt the goosebumps spread on his skin, the cold feeling in his chest and soul invading his senses as he eyed the Other. 

“Well… I don’t know Sungie. I-I just… it just gets hard sometimes you know” Donghyuck gestured out, trying to relieve the growing radiation of heat and contempt the Other-maknae was visibly showing towards his home. Donghyuck’s home.

“Sometimes I just want to take a breath away from it all. But they’re still my home… they’re still my family-“

“This could be your home! Are we not your family hyung!” Other-Jisung snapped out. Donghyuck didn’t even realize he was backed up against a tree. 

When did I move back?

When did Other-Jisung get so close?

And why did he have to be taller than me?

Donghyuck may have seen himself as a maknae through and through, and the idea of tampering in other dimensions may have grounded his gears every now and again. But there was no way he was going to let himself be intimidated by someone—even a neat imitation of said someone—he loved.

“I never said you weren’t my family Sungie-“

“Then why-“

“Please let me finish Jisungie!”

Donghyuck’s tiny rise in volume was enough to have the Other-maknae back down. Taking a few steps back, head hanging as his eyes continued to shine with wrath. All the while, Donghyuck took the spare seconds to calm his nerves and halt the growing urge to flee. He couldn’t just leave the boy before him hanging. 

These Other-members of his had been there to comfort him, to hold him and wipe his tears away. The same tears his own brothers would create in him, with their careless comment or lackluster—or sometimes heart aching response to his affections. The Others were his escape when the night got too cold to bear. And for that he will always be grateful. 

But he needed to speak his truth. This was Haechan’s home, not Donghyuck’s home. And it was about time Donghyuck woke up and stopped fawning for unattainable dreams and fantasies.

“Sungie… no amount of words can ever express how much you all mean to me. You took me in when I was unknowingly at my lowest. You gave me the refuge I needed to regain myself. You made me feel like what it meant to be Haechan again.”

Donghyuck paused as the guilt of watching the scene before him held him. Other-Jisung still held the horrible wrath on his face, but his lips trembled with every release of water from the younger’s glassy eyes. He didn’t mean to make the Other cry, and he hated himself for it.

“T-then why hyung… why do you want to leave again? Are we not enough? You were always Haechan. You’re my Haechannie-hyung. You may not be of our world, and I know you know our original Haechan is gone… But you’re still him. You’d never have to worry about missing hugs or not getting enough joy and smiles coming your way… not when you’re with us. Not in this world hyung. We love you! We love you so much Channie-hyung.”

Donghyuck's heart felt as if it was being flayed alive. He couldn’t handle it. Only more reason to leave. He was getting attached. Attached to this perfect world that was never his. Attached to this reality that was not his. Attached to a fantasy that CANNOT BE HIS. 

“But I’m also Donghyuck, Sungie. And Donghyuck belongs to the other world. It’s not the best… that we can both agree on. But it’s home. The same way this was Haechan’s home. Donghyuck needs to go back to his home”

Donghyuck paused to overlook the Other before him. The tears remained on the younger, and Donghyuck couldn’t stop the innate urge for him to wipe them away. Taking a few cautious steps forward, Donghyuck stood before the younger, whose glare was marred by tears and shivers. Donghyuck didn’t hesitate to wipe away the tears, and took both of his hands to softly caress the face of the Other-maknae before him.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, trying his best to exude an aura of peace and tranquility, hoping it would seep into the younger before him. It took some time, but eventually, Other-Jisung’s sneer crumpled, instead, he looked down to his feet with his eyes closed, almost as if he was ignoring the world around him. Donghyuck sighed sadly, still rubbing the Other’s cheeks before continuing.

“Please understand why I’m doing this Sungie. Please trust what I’m doing is not to hurt you. I just need my home. I promise I’ll be back. How could I ever leave you all eternally? I could never do that. But I do have things I must do back home. Please trust me and my love for you all. I’ll come back.”

Sungie only sighed, before he took a step back to detach himself from the elder. Donghyuck sighed, taking the move as the other’s reluctant acceptance. Donghyuck smiled sadly before making his exit.

“Thank you Sungie. Hyung loves and appreciates you so much. I love you uri maknae.”

And with the silent promise to come back, Donghyuck was off into the tree line of the forest, with the intent to find the pond to head back home. He was too far away to hear the silent apologies of the Other-Jisung however, as he pulled out his phone and called who he needed to.

“Jisung-ah? What did Haechan-ah say?”

Other-Jisung couldn’t stop the whimper that came out at the pain of having to watch his Channie-hyung leave with the intention to go find those heartless bastards from his home world. He was even more apologetic at what was to take place only moments from now, since it was clear that Other-Jisung failed in his mission.

“I’m sorry Taeyong-hyung… those monsters have their hooks too deep in him. They want their Donghyuck back now… he’s heading to the pond right now.”

Other-Jisung stood there, awaiting for Other-Taeyong’s response. Which was just as Other-Jisung expected, filled with pain etched into its voice. 

“Then we have no choice. Go back to the tower, and prepare his room for him. Let hyungs take care of this Jisung-ah. We won’t lose Haechan-ah to those selfish demons, I promise you that. Go get some rest.”

“Okay hyung. Thank you.”

And with the ending of that call, Other-Jisung sighed out another shallow breath, hoping to all of those below and beneath that his Haechannie-hyung could be saved. For this alter-world didn’t deserve his Haechannie-hyung. 

And if his family needed to force the truth down someone’s throat for both the alterns or his hyung to realize, then Other-Jisung was okay with it. Everything was going to be alright one way or another.

[lazuli-writes]

Wake

summary: Jun is the only one who can handle seeing Vernon in the hospital.

pairing: Wen Junhui & Vernon Chwe

genre: angst / hopeful

estimated word count: 1000 words

a/n: I was initially gonna leave it with a sad ending but then I was like… nah. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Good morning noni! How was your day today?” 

Jun kept the smile on his face despite getting no response. Putting down the bag of lunch for one. It was almost second nature for Jun to simply move past it. It shocked him how he could field staying here with Vernon the most out of the rest of Seventeen.

With some like Seungcheol, too emotionally unstable to the point of rage or worse, culpable breakdowns. Or on the other end of the spectrum like Chan, who could do nothing but stare, emotionally constipated—or in the case of Seungkwan and Mingyu, emotionless—A silent chasm always sitting between both youngest members of their group. 

“The menu today is Twix. And yes I know it’s only eight in the morning, but that seems to be the only thing this hospital has to offer that didn’t look too overbearing. Did you want one noni?”

Silence once again.

“Of course I made sure to get you two. You didn’t get the nickname Twix for no reason.”

Jun sighed, the semi-artificial smile on his lips and burdened eyes linger away from his brother into the small bag of goodies he bought for the day. Seven Twix bars, some ramen packs for lunch and some choco pies and pepero for dinner. The typical meal plan Jun had grown accustomed to during every visit to see Vernon. 

“Seokmin and Mingyu got into another argument. It was so hilarious. Guess what it was about?”

Jun sat down, opening a Twix bar, munching away after he put the two he got for Vernon with every visit in the once-used flower vase. A vase that was now almost completely full with Twix bars. The elder sighed as he eyed the vase, annoyed at how fast he felt the vase filled up.

“They got mad because someone dropped Seokmin’s toothbrush on the floor and didn’t pick it up. He unloaded on the last person who used the bathroom, which just so happened to be Mingyu.”

Jun paused for a response that never came, only continuing after swallowing the bite of his Twix that he took.

“Well, Mingyu was not having it. He went off. Mind you, this happened the other day, early in the morning, so their fight woke up the others. Cheollie-hyung was not happy. That whole morning was a shit-show to be honest. You’re lucky to have been able to escape. Hyung and Jihoon-ah was ruthless at practice that morning.”

Jun finished his Twix, quickly disposing of his trash before pulling out his phone.

“I know you can’t see what I’m about to show you, but I’m sure you can just hear in his voice how pissed Jihoon-ah was at that practice. And to have Cheol-hyung back him up on everything… was kinda afraid the others were about to mutiny.”

Jun played the video of that day in dance practice he had on his phone, laughing every now again at his favorite parts. And once it reached the point where even Soonyoung was getting snarky, Jihoon was quick with a sassy shutdown before starting the music again. Jun could only laugh, cause while everyone else in the group found the memory annoying, Jun loved how almost normal this seemed.

“Sometimes I wonder how so much sass could be contained in such a tiny body. Ain’t I right Twix?”

No response once again. Jun smiled, nodding his head in agreement. “You right noni, must be an age thing. Us hyungs must be getting better with our sass as we age, aren’t we?”

Silence. 

Jun sighed. Routine followed through as he pushed his hair back, leaning back in his chair to take a couple more deep breaths before returning his attention to the boy laying before him. 

“You know, hyung loves visiting you noni. But I really miss you”

Jun's smile cracked a bit, as he leaned against the bed where the maknae laid. His eyes began to water as the elder recited the same little monologue he did every visit.

“I miss seeing your eyes shine. I miss hearing your voice cheer and laugh…”

Jun tried each time he gave this speech, to hold back his tears. To stop the stone in his throat from strangling him from within. To halt the rush of sadness that sucked to swallow him whole everyday that passed with no news.

“I-“

Jun cleared the tears away from his eyes before taking one of Vernon’s slightly chilled hands. Positioning it so that Jun held it up in holding his own cheek. Jun leaned into the younger’s hand as it artificially caressed him. Trying in any way possible to transfer the strength and love he had for the younger to the maknae who laid there. Silent. And asleep.

“Please noni. I know I ask so much of you right now. And you might even have your reasons to not want to do this”

Jun wiped the last of his tears away as he re-solidified the steel in his mind, still gently keeping Vernon’s hand on his cheek. 

“But I need you to wake up. We need our noni back so badly. I miss you, we all miss you so much sollie. Please wake up.”

And for what felt like the hundredth time, Jun only received silence from his comatose brother. 

Jun refused the tears that threatened to spill once again, instead closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Vernon’s fingers. And for the slightest second, Jun dwelled in despair at another day enduring this torture alongside his brother. 

But those thoughts and designs of pain and anguish vanished when Jun felt a sudden pressure against his face. 

Eyes shooting open as Vernon’s finger shook and gripped ever so slightly on their own. Jun held his breath as he sat there, unable to move or speak as the feeling of movement by Vernon took hold of his consciousness. 

And with it, optimism flooded Jun’s heart and soul, with a crashing of waves so powerful, Jun released them in the form of new tears. Brighter and happier tears came rolling down the elder’s face in a never ending stream of hope.

[lazuli-writes]

Intruder

summary: There’s an intruder in the Ateez Dorm.

pairing: Kim Hongjoong & Choi Jongho

genre/warnings: angst (happy ending / non-graphic violence / suicidal thought (singular) / sasaeng fan / asphyxiation / non-consensual touching / aftermath of violence)

part 1

estimated word count: 2000 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

"Jongho?"

Jongho winced as his bedroom door slammed open, revealing a black blur a meter or so away from the incapacitated maknae. He was too busy struggling with consciousness as his head reverberated with more pain. His eyes stung with tears as he heaved out an irritated sigh.

Was sleep too much to ask for?

He didn’t have the energy to keep his eyes open. Opting to instead remain laying in self-imposed darkness as he tried to settle the ringing in his head. He was really thirsty too—an afterthought in his opinion. Sleep seemed like a better goal to strive for.

"My little baby..."

But despite the ringing of his head, the weakness of his limbs, and the throbbing of his throat, Jongho’s internal alarms went off. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility completely, but he had an inkling that the voice that called to him was unfamiliar.

"Oh no. Is little baby sick?"

Definitely unfamiliar.

Jongho couldn’t help but freeze up. His fear and desire for security overrode his pain as he forced his eyes open.

The room was still wobbly, and the only light in his room came from the open door that let light in from the hallway. But the light was enough to shine through and reveal that hovering above him was the silhouette of a body.

A body he didn’t recognize.

With a voice he didn’t know.

Jongho couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped past his lips as his body iced over in fear. His joints locked him in place. His breath was trapped in his lungs and throat, unable to escape. And his mind sang cruel and horrible symphonies to him, taunting him, teasing him, and threatening him.

There was an intruder. And here they stood before Jongho.

"There’s no need for that."

Jongho’s nerves went into overdrive as the physical exhaustion from being sick and dehydrated came back in harsh waves. Layered with paralyzing fear, Jongho could only shiver in his bed as this man, this creature, this monster wiped away the tears from Jongho’s face. Tears that he didn’t even know were beginning to rivulet their way down his face.

"I’m going to take very good care of you, baby."

The intruder’s fingers were dry, rough, and calloused. Jongho could only cry further as the man’s fingers so insultingly caressed his cheeks and at the way this monster cooed and chuckled at his tears.

Jongho didn’t like this. He wanted this to stop. He wanted his hyungs. He wanted to go home to his family. But he didn’t know what he could possibly do. So he only did what he could. Let more tears escape as his pleas became verbal.

"P-P-Please... leave me alone."

Those weren’t the words the cruel stranger wanted to hear. Something Jongho realized a few quiet moments later as the caress on his cheeks became a bruising grip. He tried. He tried so badly to fight back. But the exhaustion of pulling his head or lifting his arms or a leg to push, shove, or even kick away the intruder was all for naught.

He was too weak.

And Jongho could only cry more as that truth sank in viciously.

Jongho could only lay there, tears burning down his cheeks, as the man screamed in his face. He was beyond understanding what the intruder had been saying. However, slurs of certain words had made it through...

"…Mine…"

"…Never…"

"…Lesson…"

Fear had never encapsulated him the way it did in those hazy moments.

Jongho didn’t want this.

He wanted his hyungs. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted the man to stop yelling. He wanted some peace and quiet. He wanted the stranger to stop touching him. He wanted his hyungs to hold him.

He wanted this monster gone. He wanted the intruder dead. He wanted to be dead. He just wanted it to be over.

Why wasn’t it over?

•••

Hongjoong’s heart pounded in his ears as he approached the broken door to his dorm. Adrenaline and fear fueled his body. Passing through the defiled threshold of his home, he paid no mind to the gasps of shock, anger, and horror from the staff and members behind him. He felt unbalanced. Uncentered from his own sanity as his mind ran a marathon of horrible scenarios, all of them with one constant.

Jongho.

Where was he? Was he okay? Why wasn’t he picking up his phone when the captain tried calling him again?

So many things prodded at Hongjoong’s sanity in concerns for the youngest of his brothers. He didn’t know what to expect when he thought he would find Jongho. Relief. Ease. Content. Possibly anger at the possible trauma the maknae could be subjected to. Or maybe even culpable melancholy, seeing as he failed to protect Jongho from the tortures of the world, like he promised he would.

But pushing himself past the entrance of the youngest’s room to see what he did, Hongjoong’s vision closed in on itself. Red and black was his only sight. One moment, Hongjoong stood at the door, watching as the intruder forced a pillow over the face of a shivering maknae. The next, hands and feet were moving. His nose burned with pain. His arms stung the same way they did after hours spent lifting weights. He felt hands everywhere on his body: on his face, around his neck and waist, upon his wrists, hair, and arms.

His own hands felt as if they were forced through a meat grinder, stinging, burning, and throbbing in agony. One of his feet was aflame, sending dozens of painful shockwaves up his leg, yet he couldn’t be bothered. The inside of the captain’s throat felt mutilated and mangled, as if he had swallowed glass. All of this culminated in a shadow of time, as Hongjoong only regained consciousness when he felt a sudden compression against the back of his head.

Blinking, sirens, and the yells of numerous voices filtered in slowly as Hongjoong slowly regained control over his own sight and sanity.

"He’s safe. No more Joong-ah. No more."

Hongjoong recognized that voice.

Finally taking note of his surroundings, he realized that he was being pinned down. His cheek pressed firmly against the cold and wet floor. A set of hands pressed his legs into place on the ground. Another set held his hands firmly in place behind his back, while Seonghwa’s face took up the majority of his obscured vision.

He felt weak; his ears rang, and his body bruised as he struggled to take in the scene before him as he was slowly released from the confines of his hands.

He was being held down by the joint forces of Seonghwa, Yunho, and one of their managers. A trio that he struggled to register in his brain as their mouths moved and their eyes danced with concern and fear. Looking around the room, he noticed how four other staff members were dragging away the limp and bloodied body.

The intruder.

That stranger that defiled his home.

The monstrosity that hurt a member of his family.

Red spots danced in his peripheral vision as his mind leveled itself with sick glee. Satisfaction and pleasure overcame the numerous unattended cuts, scrapes, and bruises that littered Hongjoong’s skin as he found joy in the utter impact of his wrath. In Hongjoong’s mind, he didn’t care if charges were going to be filed. No idol image or any amount of fame or monetary cost would have mattered to him. His soul alone would have never forgiven himself if he didn’t exact the justice he deemed fit upon those that threatened or harmed what was his. And this home—the other members, Jongho—all of it was his.

"H-hyung.."

The soft hiccup drew Hongjoong’s attention completely as he turned around, his eyes glazing over in guilt and righteous fury as he collected the scene before him. Jongho sat on Yeosang’s lap, covered with a blanket, embraced by the arms of Yeosang, Mingi, and San. Wooyoung sat at the maknae’s feet, betwixt the captain and maknae, with a certain glint in his eye that Hongjoong couldn’t decipher. Had his head stopped spinning sooner and his mental state not been completely pushed past its capacity, Hongjoong would have recognized the fear in the younger man’s eyes.

Fear that Wooyoung had for their leader and his anger. But it wasn’t his eyes that Hongjoong took the time to dissect. Jongho’s eyes were red and glassy. A typhoon of emotion poured out of Jongho’s eyes as he slumped harder into Yeosang’s embrace. His body was still shivering, and his breath was still hiccuping. He was struggling to follow San and Mingi’s gentle pleas to accentuate his breathing.

Hongjoong rose up quickly, ignoring the calls and hands trying to halt his motions. He limped slowly, only now noticing the pain in his legs as he pushed to make his way before his youngest brother.

Wooyoung, however, seemed to have another train of thought, different from Hongjoong’s, seeing as he stood up at the same time as his captain. Quickly standing before Hongjoong in a guard-like demeanor as he attempted to defy and deny Hongjoong. The others in the room held their breath at the display, clearly recognizing a potential disaster, yet Hongjoong didn’t care. He didn’t know what motives Wooyoung had, but all he could do was stare. No malice, no anger, no wrath, or ill will were translated between the stares the two latched onto one another. But still, a heavy and depressed tension weighed on those in the room.

"It’s o-okay, Hyung."

Jongho’s voice was raspy as it called out to the second-youngest. Wooyoung deflated as the built-up tension and fear of blocking Hongjoong from Jongho escaped his body. The second youngest instead slowly made his way next to Mingi, latching a hand onto the elder’s arm as he joined those encircling the maknae. Hongjoong felt immense relief and a tremor throughout his body as he came down to his knees. Sitting down calmly before Jongho, as if the captain hadn’t just beaten an intruder to the cusp of death.

"Jongho-ah…" Hongjoong whispered, his voice strained, and his mind filled with guilt, pain, and worry. And worst of all, shame. Shame that he failed as a captain, as a friend, and as a brother. Shame that in Jongho’s most severe moment of need, Hongjoong had subjected the youngest to a horror film. Hongjoong had lost control. Hongjoong had almost killed a man. And Jongho, sick and injured, was traumatized twice over, all because Hongjoong had failed. "Hyung…. Hyung is so s-sor-"

"No."

Hongjoong's heart froze, and his eyes started to water as he stared up at Jongho. The maknae still remained firmly in Yeosang’s embrace. One hand latched securely over his blanket, the other in San’s hands. His head lay within the crook of Yeosang’s neck, but his wet and red eyes narrowed fiercely and lovingly down to the captain sitting before him.

"T-T-Thank you. Thank you, Hyung. You saved me."

The captain wanted to deny his words. Hongjoong wanted to scream about how Jongho shouldn’t be thanking him for his foolishness. It was his idea to let Jongho sleep it off alone. And it nearly got him killed. Hongjoong needed to suffer for his part in Jongho’s torture, and the captain knew that with all his heart.

Yet all Hongjoong could do was break under the glassy eyes of his maknae. Not wasting a second when he noticed Jongho let go of San’s hand, instead holding it out to his captain. That broke the last of Hongjoong’s resolve.

Sitting up quickly on his knees, Hongjoong threw his arms swiftly, fiercely, and protectively over Jongho. The captain broke down in sobs as he tried his damnedest to ingrain Jongho’s essence back into his consciousness.

Jongho was enraptured in his arms.

Jongho was still breathing.

Jongho was safe.

And that alone was enough to restore Hongjoong’s world and sanity, as his embrace of the younger reassured him that he had saved his brother.

[lazuli-writes]

Alone

summary: Hongjoong has an epiphany after a call from a sick Jongho.

pairing: Kim Hongjoong & Choi Jongho

genre: angst

part 2

estimated word count: 500 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Hyung, where are you? Did one of you guys stop by the dorm?” 

Jongho inquired, slightly annoyed that whoever stopped by didn’t even come to check in on him. As if he wasn’t alone, sick and on bed rest for the night, forcibly prescribed by Dr. Matz.

Jongho was irked that whoever it was, was loud enough to wake him up. He thought a gorilla was tearing through the place, doors slamming, things being thrown and/or dropped. A complete ruckus if he ever knew one. The worst part, he could still hear them.

The maknae had a thought to come out of his room and see what the big deal was. But seeing as he could barely move without his fever swallowing his sense of direction and dizziness invading his consciousness, Jongho remained planted in his bed. 

Even shouting was out of the question, with the way the back of his throat was on fire and scratchy. Everything just hurt and he just wanted to sleep. And maybe some attention and cuddles from his hyungs, but they didn’t need to know that.

“What? No. We’re all still here at the meeting discussing the coming schedules for next month. We’re all taking a quick intermission before continuing.”

Jongho head spun a bit, the sudden stinging only adding irritation to his confusion. He figured his Hongjoong-hyung must have been left out of the loop again. It was a tiny game Jongho played with San and Wooyoung where they would “forget” to mention something to their leader, but tell everyone else. 

Jongho would have let it slide, but the banging and sounds of rummaging was only getting more consistent. Almost as if whoever this was, was digging through every damn cabinet, drawer, closet and room. 

The maknae’s head continued to throb. He couldn’t get any rest with the stupid noise, and as such, didn’t have the patience to play along with any games San or Woo had going. 

“Well obviously someone is here hyung. They’re making such loud noise hyung, my head is killing me.”

Had Jongho been at his physical best, he probably would not have missed the way his leader’s breath hitched on the other side of the call.

“Jongho-ah… is somebody in the dorm with you right now still?”

Jongho wanted to roll his eyes but he didn’t have the energy. He hated being so agitated but drained, which only agitated him even more. 

“Yes hyung. Whoever it is, they’re being really loud. It sounds like they’re trashing the dorm. I just want to sleep hyung.”

Jongho sighed out, hoping to exhale some of the stress his body was undergoing.

All the while, Hongjoong held the phone to his ear as he signaled for someone to call the police. 

For there was no way anybody other than Jongho should be at the dorm. The rest of his members were sitting around the same table as him and the three managers with keys into the dorm sat alongside them. 

Hongjoong didn’t want his mind to wander into deeper and darker designs, but he couldn’t stop the thorns encasing his heart at the epiphany that hit him only seconds ago.

Someone was in their dorm. 

An intruder was in their dorm… 

Alone with a sick and weak Jongho.

And the realization only served to raise his adrenaline tenfold as he moved.

[lazuli-writes]

Hell

summary: San has a nightmare about his biggest regret.

pairing: Choi San & Choi Jongho

genre: angst (supposed character death)

estimated word count: 1300 words

a/n: Please take note of how there’s no tag for major character death. in the au, so & so is not dead, just believed to be… Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

“Hyung please….”

He ran. Battling through the wretched canopy of darkness and fog as he fought his way to the voice. San ignored the ache in his feet, the stinging of his eyes and the pain ensnaring his heart. Jongho. He couldn’t lose him. Not his littlest brother. The baby of their group. The only one left in San’s life since this hell had taken their lives by storm.

San didn’t know how long he had been running. It felt like hours. Every second burning away at his soul as Jongho’s fragile voice echoed out. Pained pleas, an incessant song of begging and cries for his help. San wanted to scream back… but his voice was nonexistent.

“San-hyung… please…”

San felt as if he was running through snow. As if he was pacing upon an incline. Foraging through an army of souls… their hands pulling at San. Fingers gripping, grappling, pinching and pulling at San’s advance. 

“San-hyung… I’m scared…”

HOLD ON!!! HYUNG’S ALMOST THERE!!

Tears ripped themselves free as San struggled through the dense forces that separated him from a piece of his family. The utter desperation in the younger’s voice flaying a piece of San’s soul with each cry. 

San didn’t know how long he had been running through the nothing in his attempt to save his brother, but the anchor around his heart almost drowned him completely when he fell face first. Dust and grime invading his senses. A rusty smell slithering its way into his lungs and stinging like that of a wasp. 

“Hyung”

San jolted upward, his senses finding himself in a small storage closet. The door barricaded as a light knocking sounded out from its outside. Cobwebs and dust painted the small room, each graced with the fainted  moonlight from the window. And sitting upright on the ground, leaning back against the wall was Jongho.

San gasped, a culmination of revelations torturing his mind. A smell of rancid rotting meat permeated in the air, and yet no spoiled flesh lingered in sight. San could see the wisps of air leave his mouth as if he stood in the midst of winter, and yet his body remained feeling as if he was on fire. Jongho laid slumped and looked physically strained and tired. But the younger’s eyes held no bags, not a bruise or cut in sight. And the knocking on the door had somehow gotten louder. None of it made sense. 

But none of it mattered because San had found Jongho, and he was here to save his littlest brother and friend.

Bursting forward, San leaned down, still over checking Jongho for any and all potential threats to his well being. 

Are you okay?

San wanted to scream. No sound came about. His lips moving, yet sound silent. No matter what he tried or said, San couldn’t speak his thoughts into existence. The realization infuriated him. He tore away at his thought as he tried to call, yell, cheer, whisper and gasp out a single word to no success. Seeing as his voice was getting him nowhere, San switched tactics.

The elder moved to pick up the younger, hoping that maybe he could pull Jongho out to safety. Yet, it seemed as if the younger was glued to the floor. Chains of stone, weighed down on his brother and San became filled with dread. 

What am I supposed to do?!

“Kill me.”

WHAT!

The pounding on the door had transformed once again. What was once one hand now felt like ten. Each one pounding away, harder and fiercer than the last. 

“Please do it hyung.” 

NO!!!

HOW CAN YOU ASK ME THAT!

“Please San-hyung. I don’t want to be like them.”

LIKE WHO?!

San followed the finger Jongo suddenly raised, eyeing the pounding door. The bangs of the door increasing even louder, with only the frail voice of Jongho to match its presence in San’s conscious. 

I WON’T DO IT!

San’s silent pleas seemed to be heard as Jongho had a reply for each one.

Just come with me.

“There’s no time hyung.”

I can’t do it! Please don’t make me!

“San-hyung… please… I’m scared…”

I’ll get you help! Please let’s just go!

“It’s too late for me hyung.” 

San didn’t notice the tears ripping its way out of his eyes, or recognize the way he was suddenly moving away. Jongho grew smaller in his vision as San’s body wandered away to the window. 

His eyes and mind still latched to the slumped boy. San’s heart imploded at the sight, tears brimming both of the younger’s eyes and yet, here he was putting on a tough face. A facade of strength that San could have never have hoped to match, let alone in a moment as confusing, as painful and as horrifyingly unexplainable as of right now.

“It’s okay hyung. You don’t have to. Just hurry and leave.”

I-I can’t just leave you-

“Go, save the rest of our family.”

I’d never leave you Jjongie!

“Promise me hyung. Promise me.”

Jongho, No! I’ll save you! I will!

And with that last plea, the pounding worsened. The pounding became so horrible. So loud, so vicious and so cruel. Waves upon waves of dread filled San, as he turned away from Jongho for the smallest second to look upon the door. Cracks in the wall began to appear, almost as if the world around San and Jongho were caving in. Collapsing around San as he stood there, unknowing on how to save his little brother. 

San did the only thing he could think of, as control seemed to return to his being. San ran forward, hugging the maknae, hoping to shield him from whatever horror that awaited them.

And as San’s breath caught itself in his throat, one last plea from Jongho sounded out “RUN HYUNG!” The door burst open with a scream so horrible, it sent San flying into a whole new realm of consciousness. 

A whole new realm where he was alone, with no Jongho.

•••

San came to with a scratchy throat, his face scarred with tears and his form embraced by that of another.

“You’re okay. Everything’s all right now. It was just a bad dream hyung.”

Wooyoung’s voice sung itself into San’s mind. Fulfilling him with a fragile pool of peace and content at the horror being over. It took barely a minute for reality and time to return to San, his senses sharpening as the tears returned to San’s face.

“Where’s Jongho?” San couldn’t help but ask the inevitable, his heart skipping a beat as he felt Wooyoung’s embrace tighten ever so slightly. The younger’s breath catching itself for a moment before he began.

“You’re okay San-hyung. Everything is going to be alright.”

Waves of ice swallowed San as he internalized Wooyoung’s deflection.

“W-What… where’s Jong-”

“You’re safe now hyung. You’re okay.”

Woo’s arms suddenly felt suffocating, San’s mind running rampant as reality crept into the heart of consciousness. 

JONGHO!! WHERE IS HE!? I SAVED HIM DIDN’T I!?

“But I s-saved him! W-Where’s Jongho!?”

San didn’t realize his voice had risen several octaves. It was Wooyoung’s arms tightening even more that alerted him to such. The younger’s breath hiccuping as his own tears joined San’s in the cold open air of the night.

San didn’t know what was going on. San was right there. Jongho was right there. He grabbed his hand. He pulled him out of the room. Didn’t he?

“You did save him Sannie… he’s in a much better place now.” 

What! What is he even talking about?! Jongho was right there! I saved him! I saved him from…

Slumber lost its hold on San as he came to the same realization he did every morning since that horrible night.

Jongho was gone.

And with reality back in control, another fragment of this hell San was forced to live continued on.

[lazuli-writes]

Outtakes - 25 quotes from the Silver Quartet

summary: 25 random quotes from each member of the Silver Quartet.

genre: angst / fluff / humor

estimated word count: 1400 words

a/n: Just trying to get back into writing more. I have so much stuff for this series, but I’m struggling to refine it. Here’s a droplet fic for Slytherin’s resident four horsemen. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Tracey

“Areyougoinhtoeatthat?”

“It must be the galleons talking.”

“We’re like a failed Monty Python.”

“If having half the prat-blood you have makes me less than, than I’ll happily be less than.”

“So the beast wouldn’t attack any of us, right… just asking.”

“You filthy barbarian, fish and chips are a DELICACY! What are you, AMERICAN?!”

“What would your mum do if we were to break the uncooked pasta noodles?”

“Fun fact: I don’t care.”

“There’s enough oil in Snape’s hair to satisfy the needs of English fish frying for at least a decade.”

“I’m a witch, not a prophet.”

“I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furio- not a single one of you know which film I’m quoting right now.”

“Banoffee pie was a gift from the heavens.”

“Oh please, by the time we reach your age Professor, I’m sure at least one of us will have made a name for ourselves other than being stuck in a castle teaching delinquents the refined arts of magical cooking.”

“Run Theo! Run” *cue the laughter as she watches Theo run from being disciplined by Bartholomew Greengrass.

“I want the skeletons. Oh and the jewelry please!!”

“It’s almost as if I don’t care.”

“Daph, you’re forgetting the fact that Ron and Theo share the same braincell… Wait… I forgot you don’t know what a brain cell is.”

“Mutually assured destruction. Truce?”

“What crawled up her butt and died?”

“Oui oui” “Tracey I am Italian, NOT FRENCH!” “Yeah yeah whatever.”

“That’s a lot of deathies. They would probably need multiple Potters going separate ways to possibly make an escape.”

“Ron you’d be Ginger Spice, Daphne you’d be Posh Spice, Theo is Baby Spice and of course I’d be Scary Spice-“ “why can’t I be sporty spicy” “because you can’t even say their name correctly Theo.”

“Do you think you’ll find something as perfect as they did?”

“Over the hills and a long way off…”

“Theo… I’ll be with you soon…”

Daphne

“So the first place you choose to hide is in a room with dead bodies?”

“She looks like the love child of a troll and a fairy.”

“Stupid mirror.”

“Ronald, why is our potion pink?”

“Father is gonna kill you two for going into the chamber you know…”

“You. Ate. My. Cauldron. Cakes.”

“You tell Ron anything and I WILL tell Tracey how you find her lips very interesting lately.”

“For a dirty stray, he does kind of look like Falkor.”

“You won’t look like that when you get old, right Ron?”

“So blue is out of the question. I guess the typical silver would look nice.”

“Do you think he found u-AHHHHHHH!”

“All I know is that I lay claim to any and all dresses, cloaks, shawls and the likes. Any clothes in this room is MINE.”

“A quintaped has five limbs.”

“Harpy, veela, vulture… same thing.”

“He’s more of a man than you will ever be.”

“It was Theo and Ron’s idea.”

“He had the breath of a damn merling!”

“You gave my parents the greatest gift they could have ever gotten in that moment… hope that their daughters… their family will survive this war. You gave them hope.”

“Not even death can dispute my love for you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I would be blessed to be able to call you my love, my partner, my friend and my husband for eternity. By these vows… I declare, I do.”

“I think insanity is a social construct. We may think he’s unhinged beyond compare… but he’s definitely the hero in her world.”

“I killed a child Ron! How can you still look me in the eye and say you love me! HOW?”

“I’ve never killed a mutt before.”

“He asked to take my name. He felt that he had no right to give a name he was deemed unworthy of.”

“It is hard to play a game when you don’t know the rules.”

“Say hello to mother and father for me sis. I’m gonna miss you… so much.”

Theodore

“Why do you look like that?”

“Sectersuper?” “Sectum—sempra” “shut up Weasley.”

“Auntie!! Daphne and Tracey are breaking the pasta noodles!”

“You have troll breath.”

“You didn’t have to do that. You’re not bad Weasley. Not bad at all.”

“I would have called him a filthy spawn of inbreeding but then… that would have also… applied… to-“ “SHUT UP THEO!” “What, it’s the truth Daph!”

“Oh yes, because the lion is the most amazing creature in the world. *eye roll* When a lion talks and starts killing witches and wizards, talk to me then Weasel.”

“I didn’t mean for Malfoy to call you Weasel. Accident, truly it was!”

“Why are you always staring at Ron?”

“Why would he think he even had a chance with Trace?! He looks like the love child of a hag and a house elf.”

“I’m telling you my dear cousin, that Malfoy has been staring at Ronald’s bottom almost as much as he was staring at yours.”

“I’m gonna be a rich man!!” “You already are a rich man Theo.” “Then I’m gonna be an even richer man!! I call dibs on all weapons!!”

“I don’t know why!! I was too busy saving your sister to think ‘oh how much money is this worth’.”

“It’s not my fault you failed to save mother.”

“God save the witches and wizards.”

“I’m not staring at Tracey you imbecile!”

“You cannot be both annoying and lacking magical prowess. Please pick one failure to endure.”

“If you must know, banoffee pie is actually scrumptious. If you are going to advertise your lack of taste, please do so away from my presence.”

“Why do we have to go back to Ron’s old bat of an aunt? She’s so mean.”

“If you wanna be my friend… you gotta get with my… other friends.” “Horrible rendition sporty spicy.” “Shut up Ron!!”

“I wanna live in a small cottage when I choose to settle down. I want a place surrounded and engulfed by all of my favorite plants.”

“Still got troll breath I see.”

“I wish I could see what is it you see every time you look at me Trace.”

“I love her. So damn much.”

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!!!”

Ronald

“Do you have an eye problem?”

“Theo has a bag of bezoars for a brain.”

“Daphne will kill us if she knows what we’re doing and Tracey will laugh at us if we get hurt. I already know.”

“Stupid mirror.”

“You hear that Tracey, us peasants mustn’t talk anymore.”

“Do you think Snape has a pet under that robe? He always smells.”

“Potter, Granger and Longbottom seem to have this obsession with all things ‘not their business’ that it’s actually quite funny at times.”

“Me and you remember Valentine’s Day very differently.”

“Bill and Charlie ran away the first chance they got. Percy has a superiority complex, Fred is sadistic. George just thinks Fred’s farts smell amazing, and Ginny has this weird habit of hero worshipping people who aren’t heroes.”

“Theo… could you think of anything else other than… her.” “Shove off and stay out of my head Ron.”

“Bloody bint… that thing is worse than Snape…” “Ron that was a quintaped.” “An ugly one at that!”

“Some of my family has this… belief that I’ve been ingenuous about my character. When really, they just don’t seem to understand me all that much.”

“I.. don’t know… I can’t find the words to tell you how I’m feeling Daph.”

“Muggles do have the big boom booms. What are they called again? Nookies?” “Nukes Ron.” “Oh.”

“How do you think she’ll kill us for leaving? Do you think she’ll really castrate me?”

“You want to… marry me? Why?”

“Auntie, if you turn me away now, I’m literally gonna slap you with my hand.” *proceeds to wave his amputated arm, much to the silent horror of Muriel Prewett*

“There will never be a second in this lifetime or the next, that I will ever stop loving you Daphne. You bless me with the honor of being able to call you mine and I yours. By these vows I declare, I do.”

“Still sour about the Manor Lady Lestrange? If it’s any consolation, your husband’s wand works wonderfully.”

“I mean I could… but why would I want to do that Daph?”

“All I ever wanted was to be a real Weasley, dad. And I fucked that up the moment that hat screamed Slytherin.”

“And now we are both here. Rotting in Azkaban. Yet only one of us has any chance of leaving.”

“You what?” “I gave birth Ron.” “. . .You were pregnant?”

“This is your grandma and grandpa. That’s your aunties Tracey and Tori, and your funny uncle Theo.”

“Daphne did you hear!! Albus is a Slytherin HAHAHAHAHAH I can’t wait to shove that in Ginny and Harry’s face.”

[lazuli-writes]

Outtakes - Lost Memories

summary: A collection of lost and unfinished memories from a pensieve

genre: angst / hopeful / fluff

estimated word count: 3000 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

[year one] Tracey figured she and Ron could be filth together.

“Areyougonnaeatthat?” Tracey almost struck her head against the table, embarrassed at how she word-vomited. Yet she did feel slightly justified at her nervousness with the strange, red headed boy to her right. He was just staring at the banoffee pie with the most empty eyes. 

He looked lost for someone who knew exactly where he was.

Tracey didn’t get it, but she didn’t want to intrude if it meant inconveniencing someone. So silent she remained… for approximately two minutes. The banoffee pie that was prepared before the boy was left untouched, and frankly, Tracey wanted it. She wanted it bad.

“W-What?” The boy stuttered. Tracey almost winced, even the boy’s voice was devoid of almost all emotion.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Tracey asked once again in a meek voice, finally turning her body to face the boy. As the boy looked at the food she gestured at, Tracey took the spare seconds to observe the boy. Wiry, tall, ginger red hair, a dash of freckles, bright blue eyes and a facet of dread exposing itself over his features—Tracey barely recognized it, but she could articulate the hints of apprehension radiating off of the boy.

“Uh… um… no.” It was the boy’s turn to stutter, pushing the banoffee pie to Tracey, prompting a tiny squeal of excitement from the copper-headed girl. 

“It seems that filth attracts filth.” 

Tracey and the redhead whipped their heads to the boy sitting across from them. A short, pale blonde boy sat, glaring into his food as he ate. A git in all its glory, sat right before them. Tracey only rolled her eyes, refusing to allow the comment to bother her. Growing up she had dealt with enough comments from her mother’s blood purist family to solidify her thick skin. She figured, why waste energy on a problem when you can just avoid and evade it? Quite Slytherin of herself Tracey believed. 

“Shut up you little git.” The tall red head all but hissed. Tracey shot a look at the boy, noticing how the once devoid face took on a mask of seething hate and disgust. 

The blonde boy sneered before continuing with eating, “Or what Weasley? Gonna starve yourself in anger? I know you’re probably used to going to bed hungry-”

Ron interrupted fiercely, “Shut it Malfoy or I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Tracey wanted to hit her head against the table once more, as she realized it was her voice that interrupted the red head’s. Banoffee pie completely forgotten about, Tracey tried her best to seem confident. Setting her utensils down neatly and straightening her back.

With the banoffee pie forgotten, Tracey inhaled a deep breath. Trying to pass as nonchalant, yet failing miserably, Tracey eyed the two boys before her.

“Not to be gobby with you two, but… it’s literally the first night for the next seven years of our lives. Do we really want to start it off this way?”

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say as both boys seemed to ignite at the same time.

“This house wasn’t made for blood traitors and diluted half-breeds.”

“It’s not my fault he’s a bloody wanker!”

The two states simultaneously, freezing each other in a hateful pause. They just eyed one another, completely ignoring Tracey’s presence as they stared off hatefully at one another. 

Tracey had to admit, her desire for evasion was unshakeable only a few moments ago. Now though, she had a clear mind for who she could see herself preferring to be around. It wasn’t the blonde boy.

“Well…

{memory blurred or obscured for a time}

“I guess we can be the filth of Slytherin together.”

Tracey watched as the bolts and cogs churned in the red head’s mind. She really hoped she didn’t mess this up. Tracey really wanted to have at least one friend in the house of snakes.

Elation welled up into her heart and soul as she noticed a smirk grace the lips of the red head. Tracey wasted no time to pounce on the opportunity.

“Tracey Davis. And by the looks of it, the resident half-blood of our Slytherin year-mates.” Extending her hand out after her assured introduction, Tracey smiled brightly as the boy returned the smile. Gripping her hand out in a firm handshake and allowing both to settle into a new calm.

“Ron Weasley. Proud blood traitor of this wretched house.” 

Malfoy sneered further into his food, choosing to ignore the two across from him. Tracey internally sighed in relief, grateful for his decision to keep quiet.

“So Ron, anything you looking forward to here in Hogwarts? I’m really excited for charms. I wanna learn how to make pictures move like in the newspaper.”

Tracey smiled as the red headed boy named Ron, the boy that was once emotionless incarnate, now erupted into an endless chatter of excitement. She listened to his worries, but she breathed reassurance into his being. Relaying her own insecurities of being in Slytherin.

She didn’t realize it at that moment, but eventually it came to her. Tracey could never have imagined that being the “filth” of her house alongside a fellow outcast would lead her down the best parts of her sweet yet short life …..{memory left unfinished}

[year five] Astoria hopes it’s all just one big nightmare as she is held in the embrace of Daphne, Ron and Tabby.

Despite the warming charm that shimmered above her, Astoria still shivered in her bed. Beneath the covers, scrunched up into a ball. She felt numb, pondering the uncertainty of her future.

“We can’t stay here Daph. It’s not safe. We’ll go out to muggle London tomorrow, hopefully then I can find my brother’s flat.”

“How do you know Percy will even consider taking us in? Ron… your father or mother had to have told him already.”

“Percy isn’t like the twins. He’ll help us out, I promise.”

Astoria didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the voices of Daphne and Ron seemed to be the only thing to ground her on those sleepless nights—something that has become more common as of late. 

As someone born into wealth, Astoria never had to worry over such trivial matters in her life. A place to sleep. Food to eat. Clothes on her back. That was her parents' job. A job they worked hard at, for her and her sister. It seemed so unnecessary for her to give a second thought to such things. Yet, in less than a fortnight, her ivory tower had crumbled.

She still had nightmares of hiding in that ditch for hours. Alone, hiding, crying in the snow. A warming charm as her only company. Mum, Dad, Daphne and Ron had been taken by Death Eaters… DEATH EATERS!!!

Astoria couldn’t believe…..{memory left unfinished}

[year six] Muriel extends an olive branch at the height of the war.

“The last time a Greengrass walked these halls, he was poisoned. A pinch of belladonna was it not?”

The Prewett matriarch rolled her eyes at the comment. She hadn’t the desire to entertain such impertinent thoughts from her guest. Muriel Prewett had other things clouding her mind at the moment.

To say she expected her Monday evening to be invaded by her nephew Ronald, and the remnants of the Greengrass family would be a complete and dastard lie. Her blood. The blood of her ancestors. Defiled by that abominable dark mark. She’s sure her brother is weeping in his grave at the mere thought that his great-grandson was a slave to a dark wizard. 

But there’s little use in crying over spilled potions… or spilled blood for that matter. So here she was to see things through—as if she hadn’t been doing that for the better part of a century. Muriel was simply drinking tea, trying to detach herself from the war that had descended on her home country.

Only to have her time ruined when her nephew besieged her home, with two girls and a house elf in tow. She had the smallest desire to shun him and his for his lack of class, showing up uninvited and unannounced, how inexplicably rude. She had the ever growing desire to hex him to tears for bearing that disgusting mark in the halls of his ancestors. But for the faintest moment, Muriel let her guard down. That seemed to be all it took for Ronald to slither into her life completely. A true Slytherin to boot, just like his great aunt Lucretia and his grandmother Cedrella. Damned boy.

“I have no intention to cause you or your sister harm, you pillock.”

Across from the old crone sat the young brunette, Astoria Greengrass. Whom despite only being fourteen years of age, had the spine of a thirty year old auror in their prime. 

“You really expect us to trust you with our lives?” The bairn asked, eyes narrowing as the earl grey that sat between them was forgotten. Muriel instead, shined her eyes down upon the young couple who walked around the back yard with a house elf.

Ronald, Daphne and the unseemly house elf Tabby each were busy adding their own multitude of wards around the Prewett house. The old witch would be lying if she denied the ingenuity behind some of their wards. Runic wards, elf magic and even blood magic. Powerful wards to be added…..

{memory left unfinished}

[year seven] The Silver Quartet spend the Winter Hols together.

Theodore sighed contently as he inhaled the burning scent of lavender in air as he sat, staring into the flames of their camp. He didn’t predict that he would spend Christmas in the middle of the Orlestone Forest. Yet, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Having devoured probably the best wilderness treat—courtesy of the wondrous Tracey Davis and her beautiful muggleness—s’mores were now a winter hols must. Theodore had already decided it so for the next festive hols. And so he sat, enjoying the warmth of the campfire, with a full belly, eyeing his companions. 

His brother in all but blood, the ginger giant that was Ronald Weasley, gave a stomach gripping laugh as he watched his other half. Theodore couldn’t stop his serene smile as he watched his cousin and best friend roll in the dirt and snow. Hair disheveled, face red from the biting cold, and dirt smudged upon both faces, Daphne and Ron shared a sweet kiss as they finished rolling on the ground. The two now focused upon embracing and holding the other, their snowball fight forgotten. 

Theodore didn’t know what to think the first time he saw the two hold hands as they entered the common room back in their fourth year. Had he known how the two would become a paragon of love and peace for not only themselves but for those around them, Theodore would have probably cut Ron some slack. 

But what was done was done, and Theodore couldn’t have had it any other way. He loved seeing his cousin have someone who loved and cherished her. He hates not being there for her two years ago on the very same day. Having to be told by the shaking form of his cousin Tori of how his only family—by both blood and choice—along with one of his best friends were kidnapped, tortured, killed and essentially enslaved with the dark mark… Theodore wanted to scream. To murder. To exact the same pain he felt on all those who dared to hurt his family. His home. 

To know little Astoria and kind little Tabby hid in a ditch, in the cold, in the snow and in utter darkness for almost ten hours made Theo want to scream. To know his uncle Bart and aunt Gia, the man and woman who raised him after his mother’s death and father’s imprisonment, the man Theodore imagined himself being, the woman who taught Theodore what it meant to be a man, tortured and butchered like animals… it made Theodore numb in his sobs. To know that Daphne, his first friend, had to watch her own parents die before her was too painful to think about it. Too goddamn painful. To know Ron took the mark for Daphne made Theodore cry, wishing it was him who could have spared his family the terrors of this war. 

Theodore couldn’t be more grateful to Ron for saving Daphne. He couldn’t be more blessed to see Ron and Daphne grow together. Becoming the answer to one another’s problems and the reason why both seemed to remain so strong, despite all they’ve been through. Theodore recognized it now every time he watched the two together. Their love was real and true. Just like his uncle Bart’s and aunt Gia’s. It was passionate, it was kind, it was sweet and it was all consuming and true. Theodore wanted that one day. 

Such desire made Theodore shift his sight to Tracey. Standing off to the side, her snowman is almost complete. A black scarf strangling its neck, heat from both the campfire and Tracey’s warming charm making the snowman slowly melt. Almost like it was bleeding. A sad smile on its face, as if saying to the world that it was happy despite a sad situation. Theodore found it heartwarming. Tracey was the best of the quartet in his opinion. Always a light in the never ending tunnel of gloom. 

“It’s rude to stare.” Tracey’s melodic voice cutting off the tangent Theodore found himself on. He couldn’t fight the blush off fast enough, as he realized he had been caught in his attentiveness on the young woman before him.

He did what he did best, tried to talk himself out of his problem, “I wasn’t staring.”

“You weren’t?” A layer of mischievousness lacing the two words.

Theodore damned the way she made his heart quicken in less than five words. He felt like that stupid, hormonal little boy who couldn’t control his emotions. Third and fourth year Theodore…. One does not speak of such times. As of now, Theodore was legally an adult. 17, of age and his own person. A secret member of the Order of Phoenix and smuggler of goods and refugees. Defenders of the defenseless. School boy crushes were beneath him. He could handle speaking to his schoolmate, who had perhaps the biggest heart, the sweetest soul and the most heavenly of looks.

“N-No.” He stuttered.

He fucking stuttered. The way he could just fling himself from the Dover cliffs was exceptional.

Tracey took the time to smile before turning her head to finishing her snowman. Attempting once again to conjure a carrot for the nose. She got as far as the carrot leaves, an orange colored pen and some actual orange peels. No carrots though.

“Well that’s too bad. I kind of enjoy your staring.”

Damn you Tracey Davis, Theodore thought as he looked down back at the flames, hoping the heat would burn away at the blush erupting over his cheeks.

Theodore must have been trapped in his own head again as he didn’t notice Tracey step away from her unfinished snowman, proceeding to shove Theodore over. Feeling himself being pushed over in an effort to make room for her, he obliged easily, still trying to hide his blush. 

“Not the way I saw myself enjoying Christmas. But it could be worse I guess.” Tracey said, wrapping her hair into a bun as settled herself next to Theodore. Fixing her coat and rearranging her scarf. Canceling the warming charm that came with her, she instead drew heat from the campfire.

“Same. I’m just glad to know you three are here and Astoria is safe.” 

Tracey hummed her agreement, both minds traveling in their own ways. 

Tracey soaked up the traces of assistance and peace around her. Her parents were safe hiding in France. Astoria was safe under thee Fidelius with Lady Prewett. Ron, Daphne and Theodore were here with her. Together they could face anything, even that stupid dark lord.

Theodore’s mind raced thinking of all the ways he wanted to protect those he cared about. Astoria was safe with Tabby and Ron’s aunt. Ron and Tracey were in his sight. He could depend on Ron to fight to the bitter end in protecting Daphne. Ron was someone Theodore didn’t have to worry for. Ron took the dark mark selflessly. Ron and Daphne were assured life as long as they were together. And Tracey… Theodore was no liar. Tracey Davis was the most divine, brilliant, powerful, kind, generous, fierce, honest witch… woman Theodore felt blessed to have ever met. 

He didn’t know why it took so long for him to realize. Six years he had known the goddess Tracey Davis. And only until last year did he have the guts to admit to himself. He had fallen in love. Theodore Nott. The son of a death eater, resident prick of the Silver Quartet, pseudo-son of Greengrass, a self preserving Slytherin prat, in love with the most beautiful witch he had come to ever known.

“Do you think you’ll find something as perfect as they did?”

Theodore’s train of thought derailed at her words. Digesting her question delicately. Mentally fortifying his mind. He trusted Tracey to respect other’s minds—to not use her light legilimency skills, especially on her closest friends. 

“If I can, then I guess I can die happy.”

“What a joy it would be. Wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Theodore sighed out, his eyes matching the fondness that Tracey held, both staring blissfully into one another “I guess it would.”

Tracey smiled softly before she leaned her head downward, laying it upon his shoulder. Theodore fought hard to not allow such a simple gesture render him stiff or immobile.

Relaxing and steadying his breath, Theodore simply allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Sitting there, laying his down upon hers as the two enjoyed each other’s company. The echoes of Ron and Daphne’s laughter and happiness filling the cold air. The snowflakes of the white Christmas falling down sweetly and the flames still burning.

…..{memory left unfinished}