1 - 20 of 38 Works by dulcetchan
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Falling angel, where did you put your halo?
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Chan retira le masque de son visage en zigzagant entre les étagères pour atteindre Minho.
« Pas de message, rien du tout – » se plaint Minho alors que Chan le prenait entre ses bras et déposait un baiser sur les lèvres de Minho, baiser qui voulait à la fois dire bonjour et pardon. Il avait cette tendance à faire cela : penser qu’il pourrait se sortir de toutes les situations comme ça (il avait raison).« Tu saignes. » murmura Minho, tentant de ne pas montrer à Chan combien il s’inquiétait pour lui.
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Azul, a todo a su alrededor. Inmensas cantidades de azul, directamente hacia el horizonte, donde el cielo despejado se encuentra con el mar. Pequeñas islas decoran la vista, Felix podia ver la forma de otro barco muy lejos de ellos. El viento movía su cabellera naranja lejos de su cara, haciendo que sus ojos lagrimearan. La luz del sol reflejaba en el mar, casi cegando a Felix. Risa burbujeaba desde su pecho. Felix quería soltar el mástil, extender sus brazos y gritar a todo pulmón.
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Chan drags his mask off of his face as he zigzags past the shelves to get to Minho.
“No message, no nothing-”, Minho starts his complaints as Chan scoops him in his arms and presses a kiss that is both a hello and an apology to Minho’s lips. He has a tendency to do that, as he thinks that way he’ll get away with anything (he’s right).“You’re bleeding”, Minho mumbles, trying not to show Chan how much it worries him.
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The one where Minho finally takes Chan out to that dinner.
Series
- Part 2 of Rot and Revenges
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“How much?” Minho finds himself asking. He had only meant to come this far to turn the rumor to a fact.
“More than you can afford.”
“Five thousand”, Minho places his first offer. It’s on sale, that’s why it’s on the cabinet, he knows this. He also knows witches work with and for money, and nothing is off limits for them, if there’s enough money offered.“Six thousand”, Minho raises the offer as he gets no response. The lady finally glances at him for a tad longer.
“Eight, and I want to know the reason why his heart is in a jar.” Eight thousand is going to sting, but whatever. Minho isn’t backing off now.“Deal”, the lady finally speaks out
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orphic; (adj.); beyond ordinary understanding
Series
- Part 4 of heavenly words
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“It’s alright”, Chan repeated once more, but the creature clearly did not think it was alright. It kicked with its tail again, scrambled on the edge of the boat and grabbed it, and then – gone. With a splash, it hauled itself over the edge of the boat and dove again. Chan, stunned for a moment, recovered just in time to see as the creature disappeared into the waters of the bay, swimming away from it and Chan’s boat.
No. It wasn’t a creature.
A mermaid.
Chan had just met a mermaid.
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“Sir, this is an invitation only event─“
“Take these to the second room on the left upstairs. The one with the best view”, Minho orders and hands the servant his suitcase before shrugging off his traveling cape.
“I believe the master of the house has told me not to let any stranger in-“, the servant seems a little anxious, he doesn’t clearly know who Minho is. He is going to. Minho glances at him, up and down, he’s not his kind, but most likely aware of his kind if he works here. Minho hands him his cape, careful not to crease it:“I am not a stranger. I am here to meet my maker.”
Or, the one where Minho finally decides to stay.
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Dearest Prince Felix,
I know it has been a year since I promised to send you a letter. A year has passed since I made that promise, and not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted not having the chance to send you this letter earlier. But now I do have a small chance, a moment of peace, so I am writing this letter to you.Or, Felix, the prince of Illusia, is supposed to marry Prince Changbin from the north, but the world and it's forces tear them apart before they even have time to get to know each other.
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“I should pull this trigger right now”, Minho mumbles, forefinger pressing against the cold metal underneath his finger. One small movement, that’s all it would take.
“You should. You’ve got this far, after all”, Chan grins, pressing his forehead harder against the cold muzzle of the gun.Or:
We have died in love and in each other's arms in every life we have lived but our current reincarnations do not remember that and are doing their best to end the other one and these weird flashbacks of lovingly holding each other are extremely upsetting. -
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Chan's life is simple: he runs errands, lives on the road and avoids zombies (mostly) at all costs. He likes his life that way, likes the solitude, likes the peace he has.
And then suddenly his peace is broken as he gets a bunch of headache-inducing roadtrip buddies and looped into revenge plots he didn't even dare to dream of.
Or: Chan is about to leave the safety of Base 41 to run some errands. Lee Minho decides to sit on the passenger seat of his car with no intentions of letting Chan go without him.
Series
- Part 1 of Rot and Revenges
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Witch’s Brew. That’s the name that reads on the woody placard above the door to the shop. It’s a magic shop, or a boutique, or a store for spells and hexes and brews and potions and trinkets and all sorts of things. All in all, it’s a place for all things witchcraft, and what’s even more important – it’s Felix’s!
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Minho hates Ikeas. Loathes them, actually. They’re gigantic stores with kilometers upon kilometers of every single fucking thing that exists in the world. They’re just. Overwhelming. They’re enormous. There’s too many people. The shelves are too big and they feel like they can fall down on you at any given moment. They’re too much. There’s screaming kids and people who bump into each other and you can’t get out of Ikea without buying at least a new lamp, a set of candles, a new shelf, seventeen plants and a shoehorn, when you initially came for a new sofa. And then you forget the damn sofa.
And then Minho gets trapped in an Ikea with a storm blazing outside for the night. With Jisung. And that makes it all so, so much worse.
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“You have published six stories about me in the span of two months. Last time you did that was with the Jung case and that got them into some trouble.” Lee Minho spoke fast, and not very quietly. Chan decided to keep his composure and remind the man that they were in a small, quiet café with other customers.
“You refer to justice as trouble.” Chan crossed his arms on his chest, lifted his chin just slightly. He felt horribly underdressed in front of Lee Minho and his neat suit, Chan’s slightly ragged sweater and worn-out leather jacket didn’t give the impression of a successful journalist and he knew that.
“That differs on the context. Stop framing me.”
“I am not framing you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Bringing you to justice.” -
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There is a house. There is a house on the hill. There’s a house on the top of the hill and it has been there for a long time. No one really knows how long, it just is there, somehow, it stands there tall and proud and old and creaky against the storms of the autumn, and it’s on top of the hill. There is a house, and in the house, there is a boy. He sits there, on the staircase leading upstairs, deep in his thoughts. He has been there for quite some time, too. But not as long as the house.
Mostellaria (latin, noun).
- a haunted house -
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Kim Seungmin was dead.
He was dead. Irreversibly so. As dead as one can be. He was dead.
He was dead, and Hyunjin had been a guest at his funeral. In fact, there had been over three hundred people there, and even the press had participated. It had been a big funeral, but Hyunjin thought Seungmin would have deserved bigger. Something grand. Something that their little town would never forget.
But if Kim Seungmin was dead, then why did Hyunjin keep seeing him in the reflections?
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“Redlight? For the red streaks, I assume.”
Chan turns his head towards the voice, he has to do everything in his power to not look surprised.
“No. For the color every other biker sees in front of them when I’m racing.” -
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Changbin didn’t believe in love at first sight. No sir, not at all, such thing didn’t exist, one could not possibly get such intense emotions for someone within one glance. Love at first sight didn’t exist.
But goddamn, did the boy in the light pink sweats make Changbin’s heart thrum in ways he hadn’t felt in a long time.
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“Hyunjin, I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”Series
- Part 4 of Stories Sung in the Sunken Sailor's Inn