Authored (17 fanfics)
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At the time when Wendy first let her intrigued self nervously analyse the gentle face of this girl – this girl with a refined, almost as if carved out of the best pine wood with the most care and love, sharp jaw, a delicate nose and wanderingly bright little eyes (eyes underneath a strip of the longest, darkest eyelashes. Glinting.) – she could say that she liked her. “Love” was a stretch, a terrifying stretch; though now, it fe
In which Wendy holds classes and Seulgi pretends she's terrible.
Seulgi's exclusive pictorial with SURE has just been released, and the members appear to be very complimentary. Apart from one.
In a world where everyone is born with a unique magical gift, Yeji and Ryujin are living each other’s dream.
Night terrors are an awful thing.
The faction leader's on a mission, and really didn't mean to fall for an Amity girl.
Tales of delicate eyes and brittle cold. A few ideas, while also taking requests; any pairing or scenario featuring these four lovely girls at Christmas time.
Joohyun hates prying, but she really can't help it.
Wendy being No-Face was an absolutely genius decision on her part, it soon appears. She doesn’t have to monitor her face. She can glow the deepest of crimsons and have it go unnoticed.
When a burst of random inspiration hits and somehow lumbers my ideas over a keyboard. Random short Red Velvet oneshots; any pairing, any scenario.
Seulgi had a weakness for searching for contours within the refracted shape lights gave things, and a known eye for cool, sea blues and dark, rippling cyan. She adored acrylic. She adored how a slack of it could be layered and shovelled upon anything that for artistic attention. She was lusting for its ability to mask up faults. Seungwan,
Office jobs are about as boring as pumpkin juice.
In the year that scholarly Seungwan must attend the Academy, there is an outbreak of a new species. Once surrounded by humans, elves and werewolves, will she lose even her lover to a curious thirst for blood?
Red Velvet writing collection for the little ficlets, drabbles, and odd streams of consciousness.
I want to be the comfort that you can’t get from itchy nights when somewhere I know you’re up, when I know you’re up urgently clinching down your eyelids.