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fan of good music and good people; BTS, NCT, Stray Kids, Day6 drabbles and stuff i guess
100 posts
Half-Bloods
![Half-Bloods](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5edabaa15bf422c5b6d4621e46359dfc/cef5743b40a9e108-17/s500x750/83fb89c9e294c9ccad0476679e1ad65a01c5dac1.jpg)
Half-Bloods
P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!
Cabin 15
Min Yoongi ~ Son of Hypnos
Inhabits Cabin 15 with his two brothers
This boy LIVES for sleep
Class? Napping. Training? Napping. Capture the flag? Find him asleep in some tree or something.
Will lay down in the middle of a field and take a nap, try him.
Incredibly intuitive, like, so in-tune it’s scary sometimes
Loves helping other campers with any sleep related issues (bye insomnia)
Want to sit around for a few hours and interpret your dreams? Find Yoongi
Huge softie, sings his closest friends lullabies when they can’t sleep
Will sacrifice his own sleep for a friend in need
Pretty introverted; will put instructors to sleep to get out of class
Him and his siblings don’t hang out much
But he does make mixtapes for them and leaves them on their beds
Best. Sleep. Playlists. EVER.
Super chill and calm; doesn’t get super into training or missions
BUT can definitely kick ass when he’s counted on
Will defend his friends with everything he’s got
Release Date: TBD
-Moodboards mine, pics not
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More Posts from Neighborhoodmoonchild
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P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!
Genre: Mythology, Fluff, Angst
Warning(s): mentions of death, violence, adult language
Pairing(s): ???XReader
Status: ON HOLD
PROLOGUE
Camp Half-Blood, famous training grounds of Greek demigods far and wide. Once home to the Son of Poseidon, you may have heard of him, he’s still a pretty big deal around here. It’s said to be the safest place for demigod children of the Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses, and it’s a pretty interesting place to be. I mean, it’s not like I have any other choice, I’ve been here since my dad died, and that was 6 years ago.
Like many others before me, however, I’ve made it my home. A weird kind of home where Chiron is constantly yelling at the ‘rebellious youths’ and Mr. D couldn’t really give a care, oh, and we sword fight for fun, but a home nonetheless. Being the only one in Cabin 20 over the year can be kind of lonely; my siblings all go home at the end of summer, but the lonely lifestyle is one I, as a daughter of Hecate, have come quite accustomed to. I guess I have Aster, my familiar to talk to, but I don’t think a sarcastic black cat is the best company for a 22 year old. And you may be thinking, “Why don’t you leave camp and start your own life?,” and to that I say...this is all I’ve ever really known.
Before my dad passed, I’d come to camp every summer. I met my siblings my second one. Hecate kids are hard to come by apparently, but I’m glad they showed up. See, a lot of the cabins have a sort of prejudice against other cabins. The Hades cabin, for example, though uninhabited, is constantly scorned under bated breath. My cabin falls under the same sort of scrutiny. It all comes down to fear in the end. My siblings and I posses magical abilities like our mother and that power is what intimidates and scares other campers. So, instead of trying to get to know us, they shut us out. Can’t say I’m not surprised, though. In high school, the ‘weirdos’ were always outcast, why should a camp full of demigods be any different?
The stares and whispers, unnerving at first, are now just a tolerable nuisance. I live my life here the best way I can, and if that means having my cat as my only friend, then so be it. Besides, I’ve got my plate full with training anyways. Between combat, lessons, and individual magic studies, I don’t have the time for friends as it seems. After all, I’ve got to make Mom and Dad proud.
Well, I’d write more, but there really isn’t all that much left to say. Besides, Chiron asked me to help him hang the ‘Welcome’ banners for the start of the summer, and if I keep him waiting any longer, he might demote me from favorite. I know this isn’t going to be seen by anyone and now that I’ve cleared that up I feel kind of dumb writing this all in the first place. Oh well.
...
P.S. I don’t know if it’s ‘witch’s’ intuition or just me being a little paranoid, but I feel like something big is going to happen this summer. I’m not quite sure what, I’m still working on my premonition skills, but it feels almost life changing, if that makes any sense. I think, well, I hope, it’s something wonderful, but who really knows. Guess I’ll have to wait and see...
To Be Continued...
![image](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6ade57da808a1f5ca86a057b91100dac/504b3065b585ccd3-be/s500x750/3ad1db2855f5fcb974cee0f9bf328c51f5c556d4.jpg)
This is a new fanfic idea I’ve been mulling over in my head for a while now. I don’t know how many chapters it will be yet, or what the posting schedule will look like, because as of right now I’m just kind of winging it and taking my time. If I figure out some type of schedule I’ll post it and link it in this prologue and my Master List. If anyone wants, I can try a tag list, just let me know. I hope you all enjoy this and don’t get too annoyed with my lack of organization. I promise I will keep up with this story to the best of my abilities. Please reblog and show this some love if you can, it means a lot to me. Thank you guys!
-Moonie🌙
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-Moodboards mine, pics not
BTS Pokémon!Au
Trainer!Seokjin
Partner Pokémon: Oddish
Oddish (Weed Pokémon)
TYPE: Grass/Poison
EGG GROUP: Grass
POKÉDEX COLOR: Blue
Oddishs’ leaves are prehensile and can be used to scale vertical surfaces and catch light objects. A nocturnal Pokémon, Oddish buries its sensitive body in the ground during the day to avoid the sun and fool predators. If its leaves are pulled in this state, it will respond by shrieking horribly. It starts to move when its leaves begin absorbing moonlight, which it uses to grow. Oddish will wander up to 1000 feet (300 meters) during the night to scatter its seeds and find a nutrient-rich patch of soil in which to plant itself. The more fertile the earth, the glossier its leaves will be. It is thought that its feet become like tree roots while planted.
-info from Pokédex and bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net
Thaw
[ˈthȯ ] . verb
![image](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f5026f7a374b98df20c9d5540662ac27/ed05d09581b59b90-24/s500x750/15ed1fe4a6fb13b4d54a1608254c827cf6e873b2.jpg)
Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Taehyung x Figure Skater!Reader
Genre(s): Fluff, Hockey Au, Figure Skater Au, Highschool Au, Slice of Life Au
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 1.4K
“Why is it that every time I try to get the ice to myself, you’re somehow always here to ruin it?” Taehyung snickers to himself as you round on your skates to a quick halt, spraying snow in his direction. It doesn’t fly far enough to hit him, but the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. Even though he seems to always interrupt your ice time around the same time every Friday, you can’t deny the start that stuttered your glide when he walked in and loudly announced his dismay at finding you here. Not that it was serious in any way, he just likes to push your buttons.
Watching as he pulls the door to the box open and steps gracefully onto the ice in his freshly sharpened hockey skates, you can’t help but envy the beauty in his otherwise mundane movements. His practice jersey flowing loosely around him and the bright flush present across his face gives away that practice must have ended not too long ago and yet he still waited around just to impose. Maybe it was the fact that he always finds endless ways to annoy you, from the old hockey player vs. ‘twirl girl’ fights to invading your space, it seems like he’s always there. What started as an annoying lighthearted rivalry turned into an unspoken comforting companionship. Not to say that he still didn’t annoy the living daylights out of you, you’re just so used to it that it’s worse if he doesn’t show.
So instead of hurling crude insults at him reminiscent of the first few months of your time together, you just skate slow circles around him while he adjusts to the ice, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he watches the graceful movements of your skates in awe. That was something that Taehyung never denied, the way you moved so artfully across the ice, as if the arena was your home and the ice an extension of yourself. He could bash your silly costumes and makeup until kingdom come but he never touched your skating abilities. To that, you were thankful.
While the stigma surrounding figure skating is no where near as intense as it once was, plenty of people still loved to rag on the sport, and Taehyung’s teammates were no exception. You had been the butt end of many ill-intended jokes across the bench or the halls and it was just something you learned to ignore early into your career. As long as you loved what you did, no one else’s opinions carried weight. It was not long after you had met Tae that the jokes ceased to hit the air and soon they were nonexistent. In all honesty, you had a minuscule inkling of Taehyung’s hand in the development, but mainly chucked it up to coincidental timing to save face.
You would never admit it aloud in fear of rejection, humiliation, whatever, but the charming forward elicited a spark in your heart no one had ever managed to before. In the beginning, the development made your stomach turn, the mere thought of being attracted to a puck head sending you into a spiral. After a while, you not only realized how incredibly hypocritical you were being, but you weren’t even giving him a fair chance.
Turns out, the stereotypes are just that: stereotypes. Taehyung ended up being one of the sweetest people you’d ever met, and despite his talent at being able to go from infuriating to charismatic back to exasperating within a matter of mere minutes, you never tired of him.
“It’s not my fault you think my ice time is yours. Or do you just subconsciously want to spend more time with me?” You often joked like this with him, perks of becoming surprisingly close over a relatively short period of time. This time, instead of laughing it off or chasing you with his stick like routine, he simply shrugs, adding, “Guess you caught me.”
For the second time that night your skates stuttered under your step, nearly sending you to the ice. Unbeknownst to you, the movement sent a smirk to Taehyung’s lips. He’d come to know you quite well, and thrives in the fact that he’s the only one who can falter your glide with the simplest things.
“You know, if you want to spend more time with me, all you have to do is ask.” Your sudden burst of courage burnt short as you continued your path along the ice, turning away from him at the last moment to avoid the embarrassment of him bearing witness to the scarlet shade of your skin.
How this boy managed to fluster you so easily was beyond you, and at times, usually late at night when you had your thoughts to yourself, it admittedly terrified you. To be so incredibly vulnerable to another person was new territory for you. The life of a skater, at least in your case, was a quite solitary one. Suddenly someone was tearing your precious walls down and you didn’t know how to react.
It was silent for a few moments, the only sounds resonating through the rink the scraping of both your skates against the ice and the tap of the puck Tae bats back and forth with his stick. It wasn’t entirely unusual for you both to settle into this type of quiet ambiance as you each focused on your own thing, but this was different. Your statements charging the air with a new electricity that hadn’t made itself entirely known before now. No one could deny that it wasn’t always there, but this was the first time it was clear and bold and unavoidable.
As you pulled into a spin, your mind couldn’t help but wander at the implications of the words spoken between you two. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe the wrong time, maybe you read the situation wrong. Perhaps Taehyung hadn’t meant his words in the way you had received them, but you both couldn’t take them back now. What if this was the weak piece in the tower, pulling the stick out and sending your entire friendship to the dirt?
But suddenly, your spin stops, and instead of finishing out, you come toe to toe with Taehyung. Out of breath and still flushed, you can’t help but stand there silently, staring at him as he stares back. It’s nerve wracking, the minimal space between you all still-air, thick with tension.
“Do you want to grab something to eat after this?” He asks, cutting the silence and causing your heart to leap to your throat. He was so close you could see every detail of his face, count every individual eyelash, smell the light scent of his cologne, and he was...asking you on a date?
“What?” Is all you can stutter out and for a second you wish you could descend into an abyss far away from your physical body. Of course you heard what he said, his face is literally centimeters away from yours.
“You, me, dinner, tonight. Like, a date.” He clarifies it so easily, you almost miss the light flush his cheeks take on as he attempts to hide it with that signature smirk. You’re stunned into a brief silence, not sure how exactly to respond. No one has ever been quite this direct with you, let alone ask you on a date. He takes in your expression, but instead of being deterred by your stupefied look, he breaths out an airy chuckle, “You said all I had to do was ask.”
Finally finding your footing, you clear your throat and return your averted gaze back to the boy in front of you. Seeing him so soft and honest, vulnerable to you, you realize that this is your chance. To admit to not only yourself, but to the boy who has been occupying your thoughts for months, that you do have feelings for him. Instead of burying all of these emotions deep down, you could bear them all out to the one person who would understand. He was laying all his cards out for you, and it was your turn to do the same.
So, grabbing his hand lightly in yours, tracing the soft pads of your fingers along the lines of his palm, you smile, brighter than you ever thought you could, and nod.
“I’d like that.” It was when you caught the light in his eyes as he smiled down at you, entwining your fingers together to lead you off the ice, that you knew you were done. He was it for you. And you were never letting him go.
![image](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f5026f7a374b98df20c9d5540662ac27/ed05d09581b59b90-24/s500x750/15ed1fe4a6fb13b4d54a1608254c827cf6e873b2.jpg)
![Pics Not Mine, Moodboards Are](https://64.media.tumblr.com/31082ff650f13f6b0d24d78638c10c13/ccab22aa6ae2a484-f5/s500x750/b00b7796f3beba7cee9317d61072c7ad9735fe6b.jpg)
Pics not mine, Moodboards are
BTS Burlesque!Au
Pianist!Yoongi
“This isn’t what I pictured when I’d play in front of big crowds, but, and don’t repeat this to anyone, it’s kind of growing on me. I like the energy, the crowds and the people, and I like being here with you- uh, all of you.”
When aspiring pianist Yoongi is unsure of his next step, he lands an opportune gig at Jin & Joon’s club. Even though it’s really not his scene, at least he gets to play for plenty of people (and the tips aren’t bad either.) The longer he’s been there, the more comfortable he is and the more friends he makes. Maybe this is his scene after all, especially when an interesting new girl appears out of nowhere.
ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη
![image](https://64.media.tumblr.com/de9951eddec85208668011b353c97dd6/a6653515732319a9-dd/s500x750/463da652200faa0b4286c73afc13f4f4f47097ef.jpg)
Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au
Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)
Warning(s): mild language
Word Count: 1.8K
Part I, Part 2, Part 3, ...
taglist: @best-space-boy @maryelixabeth @mochimaw @yeontanismypresident @hannahantonette17 @ign-is @fanfuckingfic @koala-wonderland @suchgayaesthetic @dulcaet
~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜
The statue was no doubt beautiful. At times, it looked as if it truly was just an incredibly pale living man standing still, transfixed by something the naked eye could not see. Stories, old wives tales, the likes, manifested around it, creeping their way into the homes of every person ‘lucky’ enough to dwell within the town. They graced the tongues of parents at each late night bedtime story to their children, snuck into the early morning gossip of elderly women topping off tea cups, and laid dreamily in the back of every young girl’s mind, each one hoping to be the key to end the curse.
Growing up in this small town, it was hard to ignore the incessant buzz surrounding the terrifyingly detailed slab of marble. However, the challenge intrigued you, spurring you on at a young age to scorn those of ‘childish’-enough mind to ever believe in such nonsense as the ‘Story of the Statue.’ How ridiculous could one be to believe that the statue was once a man, and that the only way to return him to his ‘true form’ was the hand of his ‘one true love?’
If one should believe in such a thing as a living hunk of rock, it would make just as much sense to one day find half the townspeople deep in conversation with their hairbrushes.
Insane is a good way to describe it.
Completely and utterly bonkers another.
Much to your dismay, however, the entire town seemed to believe the exact opposite. Placing your hand upon the statue’s at midday became a reveled ritual for the townspeople. Men and women alike took their chance to entertain the mystery; to indulge in their deepest fantasy of being a part of the magic.
It was this 180 of belief from yours that ended in your own scrutiny. Instead of the ‘magical statue’ being the center of ridicule, it most often times was you. You couldn’t count on your fingers and toes combined the number of times you’d heard your name amongst the petty laughter of your neighbors, or caught the wicked smirks of the other girls your age as they hushed their voices as to be ‘undetected.’
It was painfully obvious that your reluctance to accept what has always been a town tradition made you an outcast amongst them all. The only friend you’d had to stick around being the quiet girl in the house neighboring yours.
In all honesty, she was quite drab at times, most of her vocabulary consisting of the words ‘soulmate,’ ‘statue,’ and ‘magic.’ Yes, she was just as deep into the mess of it all as everyone else, it seemed. As much as it pained you to sit through her lengthy airs on how romantic the whole situation was, that she’d do anything to be the soulmate the man was waiting for, she was the only one that had stuck around to entertain your rants.
Maybe her head was so far in the clouds your negative words never truly reached past the tips of her ears, but you were nonetheless grateful to have someone to at least pretend to listen, and she never made you feel any less-than for having differing opinions. Though, it didn’t stop her from picking fun every now and then, claiming that there must be a small part of you that was even slightly curious.
Her efforts to bring forth the inner-believer in you is what led to the present moment you find yourself in.
The face of utter disgust mixed with slight terror must have looked quite an odd combination for someone about to do the most mundane of things one could do in this particular town. It was as normal as walking your dog, or fetching the mail, yet this was a spectacle most could agree on as being anything but.
The nervousness could not be helped, no matter how desperately you tried to remind yourself that this was nonsense.
An intense burning sensation was the only thing your tingling form could truly comprehend, the eyes of nosy day-goers relishing in the sight of the known town hypocrite about to suddenly go against her beliefs. If anything, you seemed to attract an entire crowd, as if you were the main act in a thrilling road show that would come and go so quickly, the people rushed to witness it before it was gone.
A shooting star, a comet across the night sky, or an eclipse perhaps.
‘Get ahold of yourself,’ you thought, wiping your increasingly sweaty palms across the denim of your jeans.
‘It’s just a silly story, all you have to do is touch it,’ your mind reminded you. The more stares you garnered, the whispers becoming a loud buzz in your ears fighting above the rush of blood pounding through, the more your confidence seemed to crumble.
A tiny speck of a part of you wormed its way up through the depths of your being to call out to the reasonable part of your brain ‘what if it’s true?’
In the unbelievable off-chance that you were wrong, could you deal with the backlash of standing so firmly against it?
As you felt the warm push from the instigator of this whole affair, her face adorned with a slightly amused smirk, you realized that even if this whole story is true, there was no way in the universe that you would ever be the soulmate the story talks about.
Your experience with men is virtually nonexistent. The last time you’d indulged in the whirlwind of possible ‘romance’ had been when your middle school crush had kissed you quickly on the lips after school on a dare, promptly gagging afterwards and swearing to the high heavens that ‘girls are gross.’
Maybe you were traumatized from the whole experience, never mind the fact that the men of your town just weren’t vying for the attention of the town laughingstock, but romantic relationships just weren’t a part of your story.
It didn’t really matter much to you anyways, considering all the eligible men are, have been, and always will be, meager farm boys living off what their ancestors have laid down for them. Not that there was anything innately wrong with that way of life, it just wasn’t what you wanted for yourself and your future.
You have big plans, ones that include getting as far away from this place as possible, and no man was going to get in the way of that.
You’d rather die a painful, lengthy death than be a little hometown wife the rest of your life, reduced to nothing more than mindless cleaning, cooking, and birthing children. To be the ‘property’ of some man that could never understand your true potential; your true worth.
So, despite the twinge of fear lacing the edges of your mind, creating a rigidness in your limbs as you crossed the dirt path to the statue, you rose to the occasion, in a sense.
Maybe this would lay to rest the constant chatter of snobby folk, let them believe that, even for a moment, they’d found a way to manipulate you into their way of thinking. Maybe they’d finally stop whispering petty words when you passed, even begin to accept you into their society, not that you were desperate for that.
Or perhaps, it would give you a little more piece of mind, at least. Quell an unadmitted thirst to understand the hype so you could be completely unattached from this silly thing and hopefully move on with your life.
Those things would not change over the few seconds it would take to finish the deed, but as your mind raced through the possible aftermaths of what you were about to do, a change of sorts had definitely begun.
It was like all of time and space slowed around you. The closer the statue came into your field of vision, it was like entering a tunnel, or vortex, that sucked you in further and blurred reality around you.
And then everything stopped.
There, mere centimeters from you, lie the statue. It’s intricate detail and craftsmanship a new level of divine when admired closely. This was the closest you’d ever been to it and it stole the breath right from your lungs.
It was a strange feeling, mixed with the stares, the heat of the summer day, the nervousness in your belly, and the charge floating through the air. An unnerving mix that, shockingly, calmed the thoughts waging war within you. Like everything was numb, quiet, peaceful almost.
“Just do it already!” A shrill voice called out, followed by the sound of agreement flowing through the crowd. It snapped you from your state, reminding you of the task at hand.
With a little less reluctance than you’d expected, your hand reached out in the direction of the statue’s. Fingers shakily outstretching, all at once, your palm slid into the cool marble one.
It was smooth, yet you could feel every ridge and line like that of a human hand. The cool feeling of the marble against your clammy flesh was surprising considering the temperature the day had suffered through.
You hadn’t even realized your eyes were closed, breath held, until you opened your eyes upon the exhale, coming face-to-face with...
A statue.
You couldn’t help the anxious giggle that slipped from your lips like a mad woman.
You were right, well, at least that was one possibility. You’d touched the damn thing and nothing happened, just like you’d expected.
So why, among the rush of relief, was there an aftertaste of disappointment on your tongue?
The crowd, mildly satisfied and admittedly bored, had begun to disperse as you stood there, hand still placed in the statue’s.
Even though you’d bit the bullet, gotten it over with, you weren’t sure what to do now that it was done. For some reason, you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away, tell your friend ‘I told you so,’ and get on with your life, finally free of the unknown.
That same familiar warmth that pushed you here found its way back to your shoulder.
“Alright, you’ve proven your point...for now. Let’s go.”
Without turning your head to acknowledge her, you looked up into the face of the hunk of rock. For a fleeting moment, you felt as if you were staring into the eyes of another human being.
Without a word, you slowly turned to retreat back to your home, emotions a frenzy you couldn’t quite understand, let alone share with another soul.
As you began to take that first step away from the thing, your hand slipping carefully out of its grasp, you felt the smallest bit of movement behind you.
Before you could turn around on your own, something warm wrapped around your wrist, spinning you back to face the creation that plagued your mind.
Only, you weren’t met the the stark white of the marble, but the ivory tone of skin. Stiffly sculpted hair now flowing freely, dark, with the wind. Empty, pale eyes now filled with a deep rich brown, struck wide as emotion after emotion swirled within them.
Shouts and gasps echoed throughout the square, eyes of every villager as wide as their gaped mouths, returning to their prior posts, the show ending with a twist no one could have predicted.
Mind and body going into an immediate state of shock, there was no time to process anything at all before the weight of the now-man collapsed down from his pedestal onto you.
So the stories held some truth after all...
![image](https://64.media.tumblr.com/de9951eddec85208668011b353c97dd6/a6653515732319a9-dd/s500x750/463da652200faa0b4286c73afc13f4f4f47097ef.jpg)
To Be Continued...