Round 1 2023: Quotes

[hwarium]

Status: Closed This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted. Seventeen Holidays Round 1: Quotes About "Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time." "How inconvenient to be made of desire." "It's me, hi, I'm the problem its me." Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy WeVerse drama. 🛑 HOLD UP If this is your first time on 17hols please check out our About Page which contains helpful information and links to pages explaining dreamwidth and HTML. We are a prompting fest where all the action happens in the comment section. Rules Sign up is not required. Fills have a minimum of 400 words for prose, haiku-length for poetry (3 lines), and 400px by 400px for art (memes are also art). Other mediums are fine too! There is no maximum cap. Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest). NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged NSFW art should not be visible, please provide a link and a warning. You may crop the artwork and embed a SFW preview. How it works Prompting Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post; Change the subject; Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want! Need ideas? Check out our 2021 and 2022 Quote rounds. <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Do Not Wants:</strong> None <strong>Prompt:</strong> <blockquote>[QUOTE GOES HERE] </blockquote> Filling Reply to the original prompt; You must change the subject to [FILL] - this is to help the mods track. Feel free to add a title Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment, edit the sections, and add your text. You may also upload your fill to the AO3 Collection. <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** Remixing Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above; Change the subject to [REMIX]. Art/media Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.) Using the same HTML code as above, copy the link into your fill or remix. That's it! Optionally, you can embed a picture into your comment. Please use the following code instead. (To explain, the HTML resizes your picture to 400x400px so that it fits on most screens. Users can view the full size if they click on it. You can also add a link to your work on twitter so that others can share it, or to any other website you want) <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** <img src="INSERT IMAGE URL" width="400px"> <a href="INSERT ANY URL YOU WANT">TEXT THAT DESCRIBES THE LINK</a> Note! On dreamwidth, you can't edit a comment once someone has replied to it. Navigation ABOUT FAQ CHAT BAITS ✧ FILLS ✧ < ROUND 1: QUOTES > ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES 2021 2022

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the sweet suffering

[replaydebut]

Ship/Member: Any…but consider gyuhan…
Major Tags: destructive love, love as violence, or if you wanna go extra dark with it… killer/victim relationship
Additional Tags: hate sex if you want…or if you take the killer/victim route…exploring the eroticism of death and being killed
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I love the pain, I love the game
Come into my arms, come into my arms
You say that I'm delirious
But I'm not the one holding the gun

I told you not to come
My victim #1

You won't let go, you won't give in
Til every part of you is suffering
It's the strangest thing, it's deliberate
Done with intent without repent

—- Delirious by Susanne Sundfør

[FILL] you wanna ____ me right now

[infrequencies]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Jeonghan
Major Tags: slightly dubious
Additional Tags: gunplay; knifeplay; threat of murder; not safe not sane i guess it's consensual; mild sexual content; toxic4toxic; this is perhaps the most insane thing i have ever written sorry
Permission to remix: No

ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. sorry

***


"Do it," Jeonghan challenges. Teeth gritted, his voice squeezes out in a hiss. “Kill me, or I’ll kill you.”

The pressure on Jeonghan’s windpipe is only now starting to become uncomfortable. Guilt lives behind the eyes of the would-be assailant, a readily exploitable factor that Jeonghan has one steel fist sunken into. The knife at his throat stings at his ego more than anything.

It is hardly the first time that Jeonghan has been held down in this bed—his bed, their bed—with a knife to his throat.

Jeonghan sneers again. “Do it.” One of the slices sting as he bares his throat further, his gaze glacial. “Kill me and I'll fucking haunt you until you die."

At the final word, Mingyu loses his nerve and springs backward onto his heels. The hesitation is advantageous, though typical. Mingyu does little to shield his soft center when Jeonghan moves upright. Half his size and yet Mingyu crumbles the moment Jeonghan goes on the offense. His wrist snaps back easily, weapon changing hands as Jeonghan flips them with one easy shove.

Pinning Mingyu’s wrists back isn’t triumphant. It feels like another lesson, and Jeonghan is quite tired of teaching.

"Sweetheart."

Jeonghan’s face fixes into a deceptive calm that masks the bubbling rage inside of him. There are ways better than physical threats to retrain a dog.

“What exactly did you think was going to happen, trying to spring on me?”

The knife handle is warm in Jeonghan's palm, the sharp blade of it capped in his own blood. Were he a crueler man, he’d press the blunt handle along the pulse of Mingyu’s carotid artery, tease the line he’d cut open. A warning shot before opening fire.

Instead, his fingers flex around the weight.

Mingyu glares up at him, eyes more malicious than he’s ever seen them. "Oh please," he snarls, wriggling under Jeonghan’s thighs. “You wouldn't—”

A solitary heartbeat passes before Jeonghan slashes out and a scream follows. Unable to shield himself quick enough, Mingyu presses his slashed cheek against his shoulder. Red stains the white linen, stains his cheek with a ruby tear track pouring from an angry gash.

It's not deep enough to scar, but the meaning is blatant, like a bullet to the back, just to the left of the spine.

Swallowing any of his own guilt, Jeonghan laughs, low and cruel.

"Maybe I wouldn’t.” But I could.

Any remaining tenacity has been wrung out of Mingyu for now, his usual placid demeanor pushing to the forefront. His eyebrows knit, frustrated.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Fear edges through the defensiveness. Jeonghan doesn’t believe him.

His open palms lay flat under Jeonghan’s grip, pressed against the pillows overhead in surrender.

The knife drops to the floor handle-first with a quiet thunk. It takes Jeonghan’s resolve and patience with it, pinned to the ground under the weighted hilt. Anger swells like a riptide. Not at Mingyu, despite. At himself for leaving his weakness wide open. His aching heart pounds.

Then, Jeonghan’s fingers close around the grip of the .45 hidden underneath his side table.

Mingyu’s eyes fly open wide in concern. “You can't be serious.”

Jeonghan drops his stance, annoyed. His head tilts to the side, bangs falling over one eye like a dark curtain. Exasperation squares his shoulders. “Do I look like I'm joking?”

Alarm overtakes Mingyu’s handsome face. He can hear the droning sirens in Mingyu’s head heighten into a primal scream when the gun drops onto the mattress between them.

“Besides. If you killed me, then who would have you?” Jeonghan continues as if Mingyu had said nothing at all. A hand finds its way to the nape of Mingyu’s neck, playing at the fine hairs there.
He kisses Mingyu then, soft as a breeze. His other hand follows the line of buttons down Mingyu's chest.

“Haven’t I told you before? You die,” Jeonghan smiles against Mingyu’s lips, feeling them wobble. Another kiss, deeper this time, more firm. The buttons come undone, thin fabric of Mingyu's shirt slipping between his fingers. “When I die.”

Mingyu hesitates in kissing back, his mouth suddenly soft compared to the hardened frown lines that tightened his face just minutes prior. He takes the gun from between them numbly, fingers wrapping around the grip. The weapon hangs idly next to Jeonghan’s hip.

In that moment, it's nothing more than a weight in Mingyu's flexed fist. Moonlight catches them, casting Mingyu's face in a warm glow. Always stunning no matter what light hits him, a startling mix of fondness and aching surges through Jeonghan’s chest.

Pulse beating steady in his chest, Jeonghan wraps a hand around the barrel and brings it under his chin.

“So kill me if you want.”

Resting his chin on the sight, Jeonghan watches him closely. The anger residing in Mingyu’s eyes burns a brilliant red darker than the blood dried on his cheek. Jaw clenched, he sets the gun aside long enough to divest Jeonghan of his shirt.

“Ask me anything.”

“I have nothing to ask of you,” Mingyu lies, mouth firm.

Electric currents spark through the air between them. From the moment Mingyu touched a blade to Jeonghan’s throat, the room has been charged, threatening to blow them apart.

Jeonghan considers speaking again, then he hears the safety click, sudden clarity in the silence. The cool tip drags down the ridges of Jeonghan’s ribs, pulling the skin and leaving indents in the shape of the opening. He imagines it white-hot, the barrel branding him after the first shot.

Mingyu finally speaks again. “It’s either you or me. And it won’t be me.”

Sweat has started to bead at Mingyu’s brow. Jeonghan wonders if he'll be brave enough to remove the safety, to end his life.

The gun glints between them. Jeonghan’s blood sings underneath the surface, a song made only for this moment.

“Anything else?” Jeonghan asks. He reaches behind him to massage Mingyu through the fabric of his pants.

Unsurprisingly, he’s hard. A cruel smile spreads on his lips.

The reaction is instantaneous, the body underneath him locking before melting under Jeonghan’s deft touch. He doesn't make much headway before Mingyu forces his weight into Jeonghan and hauls them to the foot of the bed.

Sometimes invulnerability makes Jeonghan feel like a god. But Jeonghan is not a god, and loyalties crumble like sandcastles. Mingyu doesn't kiss him on the mouth, shifting to biting at Jeonghan’s exposed skin instead.

Mingyu moves, ripping their remaining clothing to the floor. The gun rests heavy on Jeonghan’s chest. It feels like an anchor holding him to the bed.

Jeonghan’s pulse skyrockets to a dizzying pace, head barely keeping above water. “Is that the best you can do?” he challenges, lips still curled in a cruel smile.

Mingyu laughs, a dark sound. “Shut up.” The gun clicks as he moves it. “Open your fucking mouth.”

Mingyu pushes the barrel past Jeonghan’s lips. The front sight catches on his top lip. Mingyu groans.

The corners of Jeonghan’s eyelids prick with tears, but he refuses to let them fall. Instead, he slides his head forward to take the gun deeper into his mouth, guiding the tip into the inside of his cheek. Heat floods everywhere, in his jaw working around the gun, in his flushed face, in his chest, in Mingyu's hungered gaze.

Mingyu pulls the weapon out then with a soft groan, replacing it with his tongue. Mouth warm and open, he pants into Jeonghan, stealing every breath. “You’re fucking insane.”

Molt

[southern_glock]

Ship/Member: any but consider Seokmin/Mingyu, or Seokmin gen
Major Tags: violence, good boy gone bad, lovers to enemies
Additional Tags: maybe superhero au? Or something? Seokmins villain origin story lol
Do Not Wants: mcd

Prompt:

I looked away
You were on fire
And I watched a change in you
It's like you never had wings
Now you feel so alive
I've watched you change

Change (In the House of Flies), Deftones

[FILL] of glory, crowned

[fleurissons]

Ship/Member: Seokmin/Mingyu, Jeonghan cameo
Major Tags: Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied Parental Abuse
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Lovers to Enemies, somewhat an arthur/lancelot AU, truly just an ode to Excalibur DK, when it’s love and not hatred that breaks you
Permission to remix: Yes

A/N: op thank you for prompting this! this is my first seokgyu ever and I had a lot, like A LOT of fun <33


//


​Metres below the silvery surface of calm waters, a bright blade lay in wait on the soft and sandy lakebed. As foretold, under a cloudless sky on the eighteenth night of the second month, the world welcomed the prince destined to wield the sword. His birth marked the death of three: his mother, a beloved queen, of gruesome childbirth; his mid-wife, a famed sorceress, hanged for her king's greed; and a heart, that of a benevolent man, lost to rage and grief.


//


Seokmin limped to his quarters in the dark, taking care not to be seen. He loved his father enough to do so, even though the circumstances of his upbringing were never a secret. From the yangbans at court to the cooks in the kitchen, everyone knew how the king regularly delivered Seokmin’s punishment for being alive. He had heard from a young nursemaid how his father had coveted an heir enough to turn to magic for answers. Unfortunately, the king did not understand the price when he agreed to the terms.

Now, Seokmin was the one paying it. In blood and tears.

He slid open the door and found a familiar face waiting on his bed.

“Seokmin,” Mingyu started, tone steeped in concern.

Seokmin mustered up his best smile. “It’s not as bad this time.”

The young officer shook his head. They were used to this routine. Seokmin would come back from the king’s quarter with a fresh set of wounds and Mingyu would tend to him wordlessly, intimately. Tonight, instead of fetching the gilded tray upon which the cotton gauzes and medicinal herbs were placed, Mingyu came to stand before him.

“I have something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Seokmin stilled when Mingyu slowly disrobed him. His gaze bored into Seokmin, even as his hands travelled the breadth of Seokmin’s shoulders and snaked around his body. An uncomfortable wince escaped him when Mingyu touched a still-bleeding cut. Then Mingyu said something—in a language Seokmin did not understand, in a tongue never taught to him by the scholars assigned to deliver his education—and Seokmin felt the pain leave him in a heartbeat.

Mingyu released him and stepped away. Seokmin watched him, uncertain, and slowly put one hand behind him. He gasped. The welts on his back were gone. Not healed—gone, as if they were never there to start. Seokmin had known Mingyu since they were young boys. They spent happy years running around the palace, leaving mud trails on newly mopped floors, and falling through canvas doors in playful tumbles. He never knew.

He never knew.

“You—“

He had magic. All this time. Hiding in plain sight, in a palace that had abhorred and outlawed his existence since the night of Seokmin’s birth.

“Do you hate me?”

“No,” Seokmin answered instantly.

“Are you scared of me?”

I’m scared for you, he thought. “Mingyu, you can never do that again. My father has eyes and ears everywhere—“ Seokmin shuddered at the thought of Mingyu wearing a necklace of rope, his feet kicking in the air, face drained of colours. “I can’t lose you. Please.”

He had seen what loss did to men. It rendered the compassionate heartless, turned kings into inebriates, and transformed fathers into monsters.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?” Mingyu made a vague gesture to his back so Seokmin would catch on to his meaning. “No, the pain is gone.“

“Then I will do it again,” he said firmly.

“Mingyu,” Seokmin pleaded through gritted teeth. “Do your parents know?”

“Only Abeoji, since he passed the gift on to me."

"And what did he say?"

"We don't talk about the important things," Mingyu shrugged. "Keep your head down and work hard. Climb up the ranks. Don't cause your mother any grief. He says what every father says.”

Not every father, Seokmin thought.

“Those are the important things.” He grabbed Mingyu’s shoulders, so he had no choice but to look at him. “Listen to me: you can never do that again. Do you hear me?”

“Tell me you understand,” Mingyu returned, voice growing quieter. “The reason I would risk death.”

And Seokmin did. Seokmin understood what tormented Mingyu’s heart; his demons wore the same faces. Whenever he put Mingyu flat on his back out on the training ground, Seokmin desperately wanted to climb over him. The desire to discover the sounds he would make if Seokmin mouthed along his sun-kissed shoulder was ever-growing.

He stepped forward, fingers curled around one end of Mingyu’s silk jeondae. Seokmin pulled once, a harsh tug. The sash came loose.

 
//


Mingyu kept his promise. The punishment got worse as Seokmin got older, but Mingyu kept his promise. He cared for Seokmin with his warm hands and spoke only words Seokmin could recognise.

“What else can you do?”

Mingyu turned to him, bright eyes coloured with vivid surprise. His hair, undone, spilt like ink over Seokmin’s silk pillowcase. Seokmin wanted to be inside him again, to be wrapped in his intoxicating warmth.

“Not much. Enough to entertain honoured guests at a party, I suppose. The gisaengs would lose their livelihood to me.” He rolled on top of Seokmin, kissing a line down his neck. “I mean, look, the prospective ladies of the court have already lost their precious wangseja to me.”

Seokmin pinched his side lightly. Mingyu squirmed, then laughed against Seokmin’s cheek. His body shook with amusement and since the king had been away from the capital for a week, Seokmin allowed himself to join him.

“Answer the question.”

“Other than healing, my gift lies in illusion.” Mingyu’s lips found his ear. He nudged Seokmin to turn his face to the side. “Here, watch.”

Doing as Mingyu bid, Seokmin paid close attention to the glass lantern placed above a low bedside table. The shadows it cast on the wall seemed ordinary at first, until Seokmin started making out shapes—and, in time, a story. He recognised the first one. An old legend. A bear, a tiger, a cave. Then, once he had visited the past, Mingyu travelled to the future.

“There is a prophecy known amongst my people. A lady lives beneath a silver lake. She safeguards a sword that promises freedom. Once a king, the prince must come to her. Take what is his by right and bring light into the world.”

Seokmin stared at the dancing flames. “I don’t understand.”

“You will."


//


Seokmin sat motionless in a room of shattered porcelain and spilt wine. Before him, a king lay dead. A minute ago, he had launched into a passionate speech about their kingdom and its people, and how Seokmin could never be trusted to lead them. The fiery monologue had forewarned a terrible night, but Seokmin had not prepared for the king’s face to turn blue mid-sentence. Within seconds, he had gone from thumping his fist against his chest in a silent war cry to lying flat on his back, unmoving.

Down the hall, someone laughed in delight. Seokmin snapped out of his trance.

“Call the physician!” Seokmin barked to the attending servant, rushing to kneel by the king’s side. “Hurry! What are you waiting for?!” He demanded when the servant remained frozen. Seokmin turned around to repeat his order, only to find her gone, Mingyu standing in her place.

Seokmin faltered. “W-what? What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah.” Mingyu looked apologetic. “I didn’t know.”

It was summer, and the heat was sweltering, but cold perspiration trickled down Seokmin’s back. “What? Mingyu, what do you mean? What have you done?”

“I’ve never seen how it works on a man. The spell to stop one’s heart.”

Aghast, Seokmin scrabbled away from him until his back was against the wall. He stared at Mingyu, then at his late father, and back at Mingyu again. There was fascination dancing in his brown eyes. Those hands, which had only ever nourished Seokmin’s life, had now committed an unforgivable sin.

“You did this?" Seokmin did not understand. The king didn't know about them, he was sure of it. Did Mingyu not have faith in his protection? Even if he did fear being found out, they could have run. Seokmin would have run with him. "Mingyu, why?”

Mingyu canted his head as though the answer was obvious. He sauntered over to Seokmin, lowering himself to him. “Had I not, you would be dead before you could become king.”

Seokmin's eyes widened.

“I never—“

“You didn’t have to,” he said sweetly, leaning in to catch Seokmin’s lips.

This was not for him, Seokmin realised as Mingyu gently coaxed his way inside. It never was. The king wanted a worthy heir. Mingyu wanted a divine saviour. Seokmin was never any of those things. Seokmin was a son and a lover. Now he was none of those things, either. If Mingyu wanted to be free, Seokmin would fulfil his wish. This was the least he could do.

He kissed Mingyu back with equal fervour, cornering him against the dining table. Mingyu hummed happily against his mouth. It gave Seokmin time to reach for the dagger he knew Mingyu wore at his waist. Once the handle was in his grip, he plunged the blade into the soft flesh of Mingyu’s belly. Mingyu withdrew; his movements were sluggish, mind still floating in the clouds. He looked down. Lines of incomprehension decorated his forehead.

“Seokmin-ah?”

Fresh blood stained the unsullied steel and blossomed across Mingyu’s robe, spreading as rapidly as frost grew around Seokmin’s heart. Mingyu let out a rattled gasp, his hands clawing at Seokmin’s wrist. He twisted the blade. Mingyu screamed. His flesh made a soft noise as his body unravelled at Seokmin’s hand. Swallowing the last of his humanity, Seokmin jerked his arm back. A sickening sound spliced the air, severing the thread that held them together forever.

“Leave," Seokmin commanded.

An injury like that, on top of the sounds he’d made—the royal guards would seize him before he could exit the gates. Mingyu would die, undoubtedly, but Seokmin did not have to watch the light abandon his eyes. He had lost enough for one night.

“This…” Mingyu coughed up blood, droplets of crimson dotting his sleeves. “This is not mercy, is it?”

He turned away from Mingyu. His father was dead. Seokmin had to bury him. The kingdom he left behind was Seokmin’s to rule. Illusions had no place in his reign. 

“No.”

Mercy? Never. It was punishment. When the grim reapers came for him, Mingyu would have no one to hold his hand. When they weighed his crimes in the afterlife, there would be no forgiveness to alleviate his sentence. He would walk a never-ending road in hell.

And, when the time came, Seokmin would join him.


//
  

“Jeonha.”

Yoon Jeonghan bowed upon entering the Great Hall. He had returned at last after a fortnight lost to hunting a ghost; an important task entrusted to him and four other capable men. The general had questions and objections, initially. Having come from a yangban family, however, meant that he knew better than to test the forgiving nature of a man freshly thrust into greatness. The crown had never fit a head more.

“My congratulations on your ascension.”

The king stared him down, eyes dark and emotionless. Jeonghan remembered the young man whom he had witnessed training with a mid-ranking officer just short of a year prior, his bonguk geom shining in his hold. There was kindness in him; a word seemingly foreign to the figure sitting on the throne.

“May your reign be peaceful and prosperous,” the general continued carefully.

“Kim Mingyu,” the king finally spoke, tone cutting. “What news do you have?”

“We have not found a body. Perhaps foxes or other beasts ate what remained of him; there have been recent sightings—“

“He’s alive.” Jeonghan frowned, failing to see how one would come to that conclusion. The king rose, his long black robe sweeping the floor as he walked past the general. They said this was the only colour he would wear even after the mourning period had ended. “Fetch me a scholar well-versed in geography. There is a lake I must locate.”

His confusion deepened. A lake? What did a king want with a lake? Jeonghan's curiosity got the better of him. “May I inquire, jeonha, what is it that you intend to do?”

The king halted and cast Jeonghan a sideways glance. From where he stood, Jeonghan could see the golden flecks in his inky irises. 

“Cleanse our peninsula from a stubborn plague.” His lips stretched to an eerie smile; a beast-like grin the general had seen on tigers moments before they pounced on their prey. “Magic.”


//

---

yangbans: members of wealthy, ruling-class families, typically those working as civil servants or military officers / jeondae: a belt worn over military uniform / gisaengs: courtesans / wangseja: crown prince / jeonha: (to address the king) Your Majesty / bonguk geom: single-edged sword

why did you let me speak?

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: mingyu....
Major Tags: angst
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"It was as though you were a man in a wheelchair,
your legs cut off at the knee.
But I wanted you to walk.
I wanted us to walk like lovers,
arm in arm in the summer evening,
and believed so powerfully in that projection
that I had to speak, I had to press you to stand.
Why did you let me speak?
I took your silence as I took the anguish in your face,
as part of the effort to move--
It seemed I stood forever, holding out my hand.
All that time, you could no more heal yourself
than I could accept what I saw."
- Louise Glück, "Seated Figure"

Language in Silence

[leomoonwonu]

Ship/Member: Any Wonwoo or Seungcheol ship
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: I think this would be fun as canon/idolverse but AU is also welcome!
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“Think of someone you want to touch whom you cannot touch, someone forbidden. Think of a room where there is nothing except the two of you: still, you cannot touch them. Think of the heat between two hands about to touch, the language that exists in that silence.”

— Chelsea Hodson, from Tonight I’m Someone Else: Essays; “A Simple Woman”

[FILL] Apple of My Pie

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Seungcheol
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Pushing Daisies AU (kind of), more of a bakery au with supernatural elements, love at first sight, falling in love under really kind of terrible circumstances actually, bakery au, animal death (a bird has an unfortunate incident with a window), technically main character death but uhhhh not…really? it is extremely brief and doesn’t quite stick and it isn’t actively depicted I promise it’s fine
Permission to remix: Yes
Word count: 1,472

it’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything and there very much is no plot to this only vibes. zero knowledge of pushing daisies is necessary for this I literally just stole part of the concept and made something else entirely (sorry not sorry for the title)

also on ao3 if this is a bit long for your comment reading needs on here, sorry for the long scroll

***

"Could you pass me the –”

A gloved hand appears right in front of Seungcheol’s face, so close that his eyes can’t help but cross. In the palm rests a neatly coiled rose formed from delicate slices of apple peel. White flesh, nearly translucent and only just beginning to yellow, rimmed in pink, contrasting beautifully with the black leather of the glove. The fingers wiggle with impatience, sending a waft of perfume to envelop Seungcheol, the floury warmth of the bakery blending enticingly with white florals, and something…deeper.

Wonwoo clears his throat, startling Seungcheol into redirecting his gaze to Wonwoo’s face. The blush just barely dusting his cheeks like rose-tinted powdered sugar is only a shade or two darker than the skin of the apple.

Seungcheol makes a meal of plucking the rose from Wonwoo’s palm, making sure every single fingertip touches the surface of the glove, caressing slowly, dipping gently beneath the petals. He is as careful as he is tender, hands as steady as a surgeon.

Wonwoo shivers, and Seungcheol’s knees shake.

Sometime when Seungcheol wasn’t paying attention, or, well, when he was paying attention to the apple, and the glove, and the smell blooming from the skin of Wonwoo’s wrist, the two of them have gotten closer. So close Seungcheol can hear it when Wonwoo’s lips part, and feel it when Wonwoo's shaky breath fans across Seungcheol’s cheeks.

He's vibrant, glowing, beautiful. A wanting thing, nerves and need skittering through the air between them.

He's alive.

That's the thought that stops Seungcheol, in the end.

~~~~~

Seungcheol found out he could resurrect the dead when he was eight years old. A foolishly enthusiastic bluebird had slammed itself into his bedroom window, landing clearly lifeless on the ground beneath it. With all the fear and wonder and sorrow of a boy, Seungcheol had run outside and, after some nudges with his tennis shoes and a lot of deliberation over whether or not he'd get in trouble for it, he had poked the poor bird with his finger.

The bird snapped to life in a flutter and flurry, wings everywhere and feathers clouding around its tiny body. Seungcheol snatched his hand back and watched, awed, as the bird righted itself, coming to standing and breathing hard like it was as startled by this series of events as Seungcheol was.

The two considered each other, hearts racing, heads tilted in matching confusion and delight.

Slowly, gently, Seungcheol reached his still-chubby fingers out toward the bird. The bird, after a moment of careful consideration, chirped and held still.

~~~~~

Seungcheol's grandmother told him a story once, years after the bird, or maybe years before the bird, it was hard to say with a child's memory that mostly clung to the sensory experience of his grandmother's kitchen, flour and sugar and the alchemy of pie. The story changed, whether she changed it with each telling, or Seungcheol's mind changed it with each remembering. But the moral of the story remained the same, as well-worn as her voice, or the lines creasing the paper-thin skin of her hands.

With every gift, there came a cost.

~~~~~

Seungcheol petted the beautiful crown of the grateful bluebird, and that was how he found out a second touch to the newly-living made them dead again.

He found out, with the bird and, later, others, that the dead stayed that way afterwards, no matter how much touching or praying or crying he did.

~~~~~

Wonwoo walked into Seungcheol's bakery at almost the same moment that he walked into Seungcheol's heart. Almost, only because Seungcheol was in the back when the bell over the door tinkled it's merry hello, and so it took the wiping of flour-dusted hands and the shuffle of steps and the lifting of Seungcheol's head before he saw Wonwoo, and then that was it. Love. As plain as day, and more beautiful too.

It was a minor miracle that Seungcheol got Wonwoo's order right (a slice of apple pie, whipped cream on top, and a coffee, black, three sugars) given his ears were ringing and the light in the bakery was suddenly blinding, a halo surrounding Wonwoo. Well-trained hands plated the pie, swirled a spiral of cream atop it, poured the coffee into Seungcheol's best mug, and spooned three generous helpings of sugar. When he slid his offerings across the counter, Wonwoo's fingers brushed his own, and it was like moonlight, or starshine, or some other such celestial offering, big and bright and unfathomable.

They smiled at each other, Wonwoo soft and a bit shy, Seungcheol beaming like the lovestruck fool he was.

When Wonwoo left, Seungcheol didn't wonder if he would be back, or when, or how he would ask this beautiful man out on a date. He knew as certain as the sun would rise that he would see Wonwoo again, and soon, and that whenever the time was right to take Wonwoo on a picnic under Seungcheol's favorite tree on his favorite hill with his favorite view of the valley, he would know, and that Wonwoo would smile, soft and a bit shy, and say yes.

Seungcheol had whistled, and perhaps skipped, and gone back to his pies.

~~~~~

He doesn’t remember seeing Wonwoo die. He knows he must’ve, he was right there when it happened. Waving goodbye from the door of the shop as Wonwoo looked back and smiled one last time as he stepped off the curb, and then –

Nothing.

And then, a choice that wasn’t really a choice at all.

~~~~~

In the end Wonwoo was surprisingly accepting of the situation. Seungcheol hadn’t resurrected so many people that he had a script for it, and it wasn’t like it was common for someone to have literally magical fingers, but he fumbled his way through things, and Wonwoo listened.

And perhaps even more miraculous than Wonwoo’s first breath of a second chance at life, Wonwoo stayed.

~~~~~

It should’ve been terrible, loving someone and never getting to have them. Wanting and never being allowed something as simple and necessary as touch. And it was terrible, sometimes. Lord knows Seungcheol is no saint, and neither is Wonwoo. They had their fights and their frustrations, and their ways of managing it all, both healthy and not.

But in the end, it was simple. Seungcheol’s world was better with Wonwoo in it. Wonwoo was a gift. And with every gift, there is a cost.

And every time he got to see Wonwoo smile, Seungcheol decided it was a cost he was more than willing to pay.

~~~~~

Seungcheol hauls himself away from Wonwoo, taking the apple-peel rose from his still waiting hand. He clears his throat and takes several deep breaths, and politely pretends not to notice Wonwoo shaking himself from a safe distance.

They finish the pie, and then a few more, until the ovens are full and all there is left to do is wait and see how it all turns out.

The kitchen is quiet and sun-drenched with joyful morning, and Wonwoo is humming along to the radio and petting the cat that frequents the bakery, and the moment, Seungcheol decides, is right.

“Do you want to go on a picnic with me?” Seungcheol asks, heart pounding even though he is certain of the answer.

Wonwoo smiles, soft and a bit shy, and says, “Yes.”

~~~~~

The picnic is as perfect as Seungcheol imagined.

Well, there are more bugs than he had pictured in his daydreams, and the whipped cream did not survive the warm spring sunshine, and Wonwoo’s glasses fogged up a bit on the moderate hike up the hill. Seungcheol forgot napkins, and the tree is budding but not quite in bloom, and a squirrel, high in the branches, is entirely too interested in their spread.

But Wonwoo is beautiful, and he has laughed several times on this perfect date, and Seungcheol doesn’t think he could possibly be happier.

“I love you,” Seungcheol says between one breath and the next.

A brief flash of panic darts through Wonwoo’s eyes, and Seungcheol feels compelled to explain himself.

“I know the situation isn’t ideal, and there’s so many people who would be better for you, and it’s probably selfish of me to even say this considering I could kill you at any moment purely by accident, but you make me happy, Wonwoo. I want to make you happy every day, if I can. So if that sounds like something you could let me do, then –”

There’s cellophane over Seungcheol’s face, and he only has a second to make a bemused little sound about it before the sensation of warmth and pressure registers over his lips, and then he realizes he’s being kissed. Wonwoo, brilliant, beautiful Wonwoo, is kissing him.

And so, hands behind his back to avoid temptation, Seungcheol makes a choice that isn’t a choice at all.

He kisses back.

How else should I love you?

[leomoonwonu]

Ship/Member: Any (but I'm partial to Wonwoo and Seungcheol ships)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“I suppose you do love me, in your way,” I said to him one night close to dawn when we lay on the narrow bed. “And how else should I love you —in your way?” he asked. I am still thinking about that.
― Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

[FILL] reach inside

[thembocollector]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Soonyoung
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: love is a never-ending loop of Concern, domesticity
Permission to remix: Yes

ao3 link here!

***

It was almost dawn.

Wonwoo's glasses were illuminated by the blue light of his gaming tower's water cooling system. (Wonwoo once had made a valiant effort to try and explain its intricacies to Soonyoung, who had simply stared at him in response. No use, then.)

"You're not tired?" Soonyoung scrolled through Instagram for the fifth time in about three minutes; having closed and reopened the app multiple times. He'd even set a time limit on his phone so that he'd be unable to access the app, but, out of sheer boredom and frustration, decided to disable the function instead.

Woonwoo hummed. "I'll go to bed in a bit."

"You always say that," Soonyoung replied. This was somewhat true. He'd have exhausted the remnants of whatever caffeine was lingering in his system by then. Or, as Wonwoo liked to remind him, somewhat tetchily, Nobody Should Have Three Coffees In A Day, to which Soonyoung replied with, Suck My Balls.

"Where are we going tomorrow?"

"Don't deflect the bed-shaped elephant in the room," Soonyoung said.

"I am not deflecting the bed-shaped elephant in the room," Wonwoo replied. Someone died on-screen. It was decidedly not Wonwoo's character.

Soonyoung stifled a yawn before giving in. His jaw clicked.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Soonyoung replied, yawning again.

"I'm nearly done," Wonwoo said.

"Take your time." Soonyoung's voice was soft.

***

Soonyoung liked to light candles before going to bed. Tonight's candle featured strong notes of amber and musk.

"You're going to set something alight, if not yourself," Wonwoo said, frowning, as he crawled into bed, bone-tired.

"Yeah, yeah," Soonyoung said, his voice thick with sleep.

Wonwoo reached over, so that his body brushed against Soonyoung. "Let me extinguish the flame real quick."

Soonyoung hmmed in assent. "What's for breakfast tomorrow?"

"We just had dinner not too long ago."

"Is it a crime for me to ask what's for breakfast?"

"No," Wonwoo said, and Soonyoung could hear his smile, even with his eyes shut. "No, it isn't."

Soonyoung could smell freshly-brushed teeth—spearmint this time round, since they had run out of their typical peppermint. He opened his eyes momentarily, so that he could face Woonwoo. He studied the way his jaw was tense, even before bed. The way Wonwoo still wore glasses to bed.

"You're going to bend those, you know," Soonyoung said.

"I have four more pairs."

"I know, but."

Wonwoo sighed and removed his glasses. Soonyoung strained his ears to listen to the quiet thud they made on the bedside surface. "Better now?" Wonwoo said.

"Yes, actually," Soonyoung said, leaning in for a kiss.

what do you know about me?

[hyojungss]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I can read you like a book the moment you stand in front of me. What can I do? [...] You're an open book! But can you read me? Can you?

- na heedo, twenty-five twenty-one ep. 6

[FILL] lopsided roses

[tangerinekth]

Ship/Member: wonwoo/mingyu
Major Tags: none
Additional Tags: brief alcohol use, dating, ambiguous ending
Permission to remix: please ask

***

wonwoo doesn't like flowers. he thinks they're pretty, sure, but he doesn't like owning them. there's not enough table or counter space for a vase in his apartment and his place only receives the sun's light when it's setting. he's also not home a lot. his work sends him on trips to different branches at least three times a month, and he likes it that way.

so when wonwoo sees the massive bouquet of roses in mingyu's hands when he opens the door, his first thought is, "oh no, i'm going to kill them."

it's their third date, and that should mean something. because wonwoo hasn't had a third date in ages. he remembers seungkwan telling him that vernon asked him to be his boyfriend on their third date. it was a big deal apparently, out of character for vernon, but perfect for seungkwan, with flowers, chocolates, and a teddy bear. the works. seungkwan loved it.

wonwoo doesn't know if mingyu thought he would love it when the younger pushes the flowers into wonwoo's arms with a bashful smile. he's flustered, probably embarrassed by the sheer size of the bouquet he must've had to carry through the lobby. "i got these for you," mingyu says, rushed. "i thought you would like them."

he's sincere, so wonwoo thanks him and presses a kiss to his cheek. he holds back the urge to tell mingyu he shouldn't have in fear his honesty will slip through. because these flowers are going to wilt and die in the large cup he puts them in, and wonwoo is going to have to throw them out when he gets back from his trip to ulsan next week.

"are you ready to go?" mingyu asks. he offers his hand and wonwoo's eyes scan him up and down. he recognizes mingyu's leather jacket as a graduation gift from his friend, seungcheol, and his jeans are held up by a dark designer belt. wonwoo tries not to think about how much they cost, ignore the glint of the watch on his wrist. because there's a side to mingyu he has known for years now yet still tries to pretend does not exist.

"i'm ready," wonwoo says. mingyu's hand is warm in his and he can't help but smile when mingyu grins at him.

they walk a few blocks to an italian restaurant they've eaten at before, before the dating and talking stage, a time when mingyu's friends still thought the guy mingyu hangs out with a lot was named wonseok instead of wonwoo.

"do you want a drink?" mingyu asks, flipping through the menu.

"yeah, sure," wonwoo answers, because he knows despite the fact that mingyu always gets teased for it, the younger likes to show off sometimes. so he watches as mingyu smiles, calls the waiter over, and names a wine wonwoo won't attempt to repeat the name of.

"it's a red wine. that's okay, right?" mingyu says, suddenly looking worried. "oh, wait the white would've been better if you wanted seafood." he's about to call the waiter again when wonwoo places his hand over his to stop him.

"red wine is good, mingyu-ah," wonwoo assures him. "i'm not a big seafood person."

"oh, right, i knew that! sorry, hyung," mingyu tells him, an apologetic smile on his lips. wonwoo knows he feels bad, so he tries not to think about how long it will be before mingyu forgets again.

when they order, wonwoo can already hear the words "filet mignon, medium rare, please" in mingyu's voice before they even escape his lips. he knows at exactly which syllables his lisp will peek through.

"the arrabbiata pasta, please," wonwoo orders for himself. they hand their menus back, and mingyu is quick to engage in conversation again.

he asks about wonwoo's most recent trip to kyoto, having taken place between this date and their last. wonwoo tells him that it was good, he met some clients and there weren't any problems. it's vague, so mingyu, understandably, prods more. he asks about the food wonwoo ate and the sights he saw during the week he was gone.

"did you see any temples?" mingyu asks.

"yes," wonwoo answers. he takes a sip of the wine they ordered before and tries not to let it show on his face that it tastes exactly as he expected it would. he feels like a child in moments like these, schooling his face as he takes another taste. "the temples are really pretty this time of the year."

"we should go see them together sometime," mingyu suggests, before getting shy and backtracking. "you can bring your friends of course, and i can bring mine," he says, cheeks tinted red. "jeonghan hyung actually has a lot of friends in kyoto, we can probably stay at one of their places."

it's a nice offer, familiar even, because wonwoo knows mingyu would never let him pay for a trip that they're going together on. it has been like that since they met, in college when mingyu was lankier and wonwoo's hair was longer.

mingyu has always been the generous, giving kind. it makes wonwoo wonder what he did to have him in his life. if he deserves to keep him there years later.

"seungkwan and jun would probably love that," wonwoo says, smiling. "it will be difficult tearing jihoon out of the studio though."

"oh, he's a dancer, right?" mingyu asks. wonwoo purses his lips before answering. mingyu has only met jihoon a handful of times. it's natural for him to forget these things.

"no, he's the one that's a music producer," wonwoo tells him. "jun is a dancer, though."

"damn, that's my bad," mingyu says, hiding his face behind his hands. the sight is endearing, so wonwoo forgets the conversation and laughs.

"it's okay, i can't remember all of you friend's jobs," wonwoo says, empathetically.

(it's a lie. seungcheol is an architect. jeonghan and seokmin are preschool teachers. and joshua is between jobs right now. he thinks he might want to pursue music rather than business. his first gig as a musician is next week at a place in yeouido. he'll figure it out after that.)

"you're just saying that to make me feel better," mingyu says.

"i would never," wonwoo sarcastically responds. mingyu retaliates by nudging his foot with his. they end up playing a clumsy round of footsie before mingyu slams his knee under the table and causes the cutlery to clatter but somehow not fall.

"look what you did, hyung. i'm hurt because of you," mingyu pretends to whine, rubbing his aching knee. wonwoo is still laughing at the younger's pained expression when the waiter arrives with their food.

the rest of the meal is more of the same. questions, answers, and anecdotes traded back and forth. at some point, wonwoo finds himself having such a good time that he stops correcting mingyu when he gets things wrong.

so what if he thinks junhui's name is actually junhyeok, and forgets that wonwoo's father is a post office worker and not a businessman? they're details that can be fixed at a later time. wonwoo doesn't have to deal with them right now. not when wine is still swirling in his glass, and mingyu is looking at him like he is his entire world.

the walk home is cold and they both run half the way back to wonwoo's place. wonwoo invites mingyu in, and the younger is all too happy to accept.

"this picture is so cute. are they your friend's?" mingyu asks, when he sees the photo of kittens stuck to wonwoo's fridge.

"hm? no, our cat back home just gave birth. the babies were so cute i decided to print out a picture," wonwoo says, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard.

"oh, really? i always thought you were more of a dog person," mingyu replies. wonwoo bites his tongue and nods, silently filling the cups with water. he hands mingyu his and sits in the seat beside him in the kitchen. the roses from before are sitting lopsided in a plastic cup in front of them, uglier than when mingyu brought them in.

"i had fun tonight," wonwoo says.

"really? i'm glad," mingyu beams, so bright wonwoo has to look away. "i had a good time too." he takes wonwoo's hand and squeezes it comfortingly. "i'm really happy we decided to try this."

wonwoo doesn't know what to say at first, confused by what mingyu means. he's not sure if "this" means going on dates once every two weeks or if he's just talking about them in general, two people with seemingly nothing in common trying to map out the path to a relationship.

"i'm tired," wonwoo yawns, stretching his arms above his head. mingyu agrees, yawning as well, and asks wonwoo if he can stay over. there's no impure intention. mingyu even offers to sleep on the couch.

"i just, kinda want to make breakfast for you tomorrow," mingyu says shyly. it's cute, endearing. wonwoo figures breakfast is when mingyu plans on asking him to be his boyfriend. wonwoo thinks he'll say yes.

"alright," wonwoo agrees. "but you can sleep in my bed with me. we can cuddle." mingyu preens immediately and wonwoo's heart warms at the way mingyu's eyes crinkle when he smiles.

they wash up in a comfortable silence and wonwoo lends mingyu his clothes. when they settle into bed, it's with mingyu's arms wrapped around wonwoo's waist, and wonwoo's head against his chest.

"relax," wonwoo says with a chuckle when he feels mingyu's heart beating rapidly against chest.

"i'm sorry!" mingyu tells him, the pout in his voice evident. "i'm nervous, okay? you know i get shy."

"you're fine, don't worry about it," wonwoo tells him. he leans up to press a kiss against mingyu's jaw and feels the other relax under him.

"distract me with a question, i can't fall asleep because of you," mingyu whines.

"alright," wonwoo laughs, feeling himself already drifting to sleep, safe in mingyu's embrace. "mm, what's your favorite color?"

"red. but like the berry kind of red, like a strawberry," mingyu answers.

"favorite song right now?"

"oh, i need to think about this one," mingyu tells him. wonwoo nods, eyes fluttering closed as he awaits a response. "probably breathe by lee hi."

"that's a good one," wonwoo murmurs. "okay, favorite season?"

"summer," mingyu replies, now sounding tired again. "one more before you fall asleep."

"hm," wonwoo hums. "what's my favorite season?"

"easy, spring," mingyu says.

"good job, now good night, mingyu," wonwoo says, leaving another kiss on his golden skin.

"good night, hyung," the younger responds, pressing his lips against the crown of wonwoo's head.

mingyu somehow ends up falling asleep faster than wonwoo does, and wonwoo suppresses a laugh when he begins to hear mingyu's light snoring. he's too peaceful like this, so wonwoo chooses not to interrupt his sleep by doing something silly. instead, he stays curled against mingyu's side and pulls the blanket higher so it reaches their chins.

"sweet dreams, mingyu," he says, before finally falling asleep.


(the correct answer was autumn.)

turnaround

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any but I have to beg for Chan it's who I am as a person
Major Tags: mental illness, possible suicidal thoughts
Additional Tags: being loved while mentally ill and not understanding how
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I still can't talk it through
How do you do it?
Love me when it hurts
And every time I fly away
You pull me back to Earth

- Turnaround by Coin

sun bleached files

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any but I think we all know this could work well with joshua
Major Tags: religious trauma
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

What I wouldn't give to be in church this Sunday
Listening to the choir so heartfelt, all singing
"God loves you, but not enough to save you"
So, baby girl, good luck taking care of yourself
So I said fine, 'cause that's how my daddy raised me
If they strike once, then you just hit 'em twice as hard
But in the end, if I bend under the weight that they gave me
Then this heart would break and fall as twice as far

- Sun Bleached Files by Ethel Cain

footnote

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any but I am once again begging for Lee Chan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: unrequited love, unhappy/ambiguous ending
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

You said at the party that I was too drunk
I told you I liked you, you said, "Sober up"
But why would I lie? It's so clear I'm in love
With you
A tense conversation, you like someone else
I say, "If I waited, could that maybe help?"
You told me that patience won't change how you felt
For me

- Footnote by Conan Gray

[FILL] a footnote will do

[nunssaum]

Ship/Member: Boo Seungkwan/Lee Chan
Major Tags: unhappy ending.
Additional Tags: childhood friends, confessions, rejection, unrequited love.
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Posted in AO3.

easy for you to say

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any but once again begging for Chan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: coming of age, nostalgia
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I see it in moments
It's coming in waves
A sunrise in Sydney that's burning for days
But I'm headstrong and stubborn and stuck in my ways
With every tomorrow keep turning the page
A Youth that was stolen and filled with mistakes
I turned all around looked for someone to blame
But I'm over dramatic and drenched in my pain
I know that you saw it all over my face

- easy for you to say by 5SOS

light years

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any (but please consider Chan)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: loving someone who is moving through life at a difference pace than you and you can't keep up
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

You were waiting outside for me in the sun
Laying down to soak it all in before we had to run
I was always ten feet behind you from the start
Didn't know you were gone 'til we were in the car
Oh, the glory of it all was lost on me
'Til I saw how hard it'd be to reach you
And I would always be light years, light years away from you

- Light Years by The National

you'll know

[hyojungss]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

RORY: You'll know, okay? You just have to let it happen. And then, probably when you're not looking, you'll find someone who complements you.
PARIS: Meaning?
RORY: Someone who likes what you like, someone who reads the same books or listens to the same music or likes to trash the same movies. Someone compatible.
PARIS: Okay.
RORY: But not so compatible that they're boring.
PARIS: Someone who's compatible but not compatible.
RORY: Yeah, kind of. I mean, you respect each other's opinions and you can laugh at the same jokes, but I don't know, there's just something about not quite knowing what the other person's gonna do at all times that's just really... exciting.

- gilmore girls 3x01

[FILL] so we could call it even

[kisoap]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Nayoung
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: New year same me (she means tswift inyyjh-isms)
Permission to remix: Please ask

***

Nayoung stares at him, incredulous, “What are you doing here?”

“You’re the only person I know in this master’s program,” Jeonghan states plainly. He holds out the bouquet of pale blue roses to her. “Congratulations.”

Nayoung wordlessly adds them to the pile already gathered in her arms. The gold tassel on her graduation cap hits the side of her cheek when she re-rights herself. She’s wearing the navy slip dress under her gown that Jeonghan remembers hooking off her shoulders at his apartment a week ago while his mouth sucked a mark over her clavicle. She’d hated him for it to the point that she refused to respond to his texts for days, and Jeonghan can still see the faint line of it under the midday sun now.

“You can’t be here,” she warns, readjusting her collar. “My parents are out front, and all of my friends, and…” Nayoung trails off while her eyes shift away from his face. “Do you even know what these mean?” she finally asks about the roses.

Jeonghan shrugs, taking a step closer to where she’s standing a stair above him. His dress shoes pinch at his toes. “No,” he admits. He reaches over to tuck the strand of her hair that’s falling into her face behind her ear. “I just know that you like them.”

Nayoung chews her lip. “You’re impossible.”

“What are you doing later tonight?” Jeonghan says just for her to hear.

“I don’t know,” she replies, wary. “I’ll be busy for a while. And I have to go take pictures now.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan steps back with a smile. “Text me when you get home.”

Nayoung pushes past him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “You’re not my boyfriend, Yoon Jeonghan,” she reminds him.

He laughs at that, “I can pretend, can’t I?” Nayoung shoots him one last withering glare before walking off. “Congratulations again!” he calls after her, watching until she’s out of sight. She doesn’t look back once. Not like Jeonghan expected her to, anyway.

***

“You and Nayoung are more alike than you think,” Jisoo points out when Jeonghan resolutely refuses to continue talking about her.

Jeonghan picks at the remnants of his pasta with a fork. “How so?”

“You’re both too terrified to take a leap of faith for love.”

“You haven’t spoken to Nayoung one-on-one before,” Jeonghan grins wryly, trying to call his bluff.

Jisoo gives him that, “I haven’t.” But it wasn’t rocket science, either.

“I would do it,” confesses Jeonghan after giving it some thought. They’d agreed to eat at this restaurant for the beach view, but it was overcast and storming outside the floor length windows that they were so famous for. “Just not with Nayoung.”

“No?”

Jeonghan takes a stab at a cherry tomato, but it goes rolling off the plate. “Because I don’t know if she’d meet me halfway.” That’s what made it all so frustrating, yet impossible for Jeonghan to stay away.

***

In their second year of university, Jeonghan went to excruciating lengths to set Nayoung up with their mutual friend Seungcheol. It was a relationship that was doomed to fail though, because Jeonghan knew from the outset that Nayoung had a crush on him instead.

“There’s something clinical about your ambition,” is what Nayoung always said when they came back to the topic. Today, she’s sitting with her back to him in his bed, trying to zip up her dress. The light filtering in through the cracks between the blinds catches in her hair. “You’re always waiting for the other person to spill their guts first,” she adds this time around.

“You say that like you’re different.” Jeonghan walks across the room to her, stooping over to pull up the zipper. His knuckles brush the skin on the small of her back, collateral damage, to which she shivers.

“I wish I was,” Nayoung laments as Jeonghan moves to sit beside her. “But I don’t think I am.” She turns to look at him, gaze flickering down to his mouth momentarily before settling to meet his eyes. “And on top of all that, I don’t get you.”

Jeonghan twines his fingers with hers in slow motion. “What do you mean?”

Nayoung says distractedly, “I don’t know.” She tenses when he presses his forehead against her hair and relaxes again when he moves to kiss the side of her neck, featherlight. “I feel like I should know what to expect from you, but I never do.”

Jeonghan suddenly wishes he could give her that predictable kind of love. “But what’s the fun in that?”

Nayoung leans away so they can look at each other, head on. “You’re no good for me.” She sounds like she barely believes it, either. Even in the skewed light with the shades closed she’s beautiful.

Jeonghan feels the corner of his mouth quirk up, apologetic. “Maybe,” he agrees too easily. And then Nayoung closes the distance between them again and kisses him, like every second they spend apart kills her inside the same way it kills him.

cruel summer

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: do whatever with this I will eat up literally anything based on this bridge
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

- Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift

all too well

[keyofreason]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: loving someone more than they love you, breakup
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

And I was thinkin' on the drive down, "Any time now
He's gonna say it's love," you never called it what it was
*
You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

- All Too Well by Taylor Swift

this space in my chest belongs to you

[doongi]

Ship/Member: would love this to be jihoon-centric or seungcheol-centric
Major Tags: n/a
Additional Tags: leaderisms
Do Not Wants: major angst haha

Prompt:

You love us too much. It takes up room.

- Sweetheart / Mon bébé (2019) [0:44]

I don't wanna die for you.

[bluemening]

Ship/Member: Consider Jeonghan or Minghao, but any is fine!
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: toxic relationships, angst, relationship study (and also I'd recommend reading the whole lyrics of this song!!)
Do Not Wants: mcd

Prompt:

This isn't love, this is a car crash
This isn't love, this is a bloodbath
This isn't love, this is a sentence
It's a bullet in the head
So pull the trigger

- BMTH, Die4u

[perhaps the world ends here]

[st8rgazer]

Ship/Member: ANY
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: ANY but suggested: magic realism??, grief, love within grief
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

- Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo

closer [to you]

[st8rgazer]

Ship/Member: any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: any
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

If love ain’t for us,
이걸로 만족할게
I don’t need your touch
너의 사랑이면 돼

/

If love ain’t for us,
I'll be satisfied with this
I don’t need your touch
As long as it’s your love

- Closer (With Paul Blanco, Mahalia), RM

[FILL] a broken lotus root

[tangerinekth]

Ship/Member: junhui/wonwoo
Major Tags: none
Additional Tags: vampire wonwoo/human junhui, mentions of blood
Permission to remix: please ask

***

there is a chinese proverb that junhui hates. 藕斷絲連. written in traditional chinese, it takes 62 strokes. in hànyǔ pīnyīn, it's written as ǒu duàn sī lián, and when translated directly, it means "broken lotus root." it doesn't make much sense, if you don't know chinese, or have never eaten lotus before. but it means that when a lotus root is broken, it is still connected by its fibers. similar to how when two people break up, they are still connected by their heartstrings.

in junhui's case, his connection to his ex is a little more literal than that. but then again, everything about vampires is a little more literal than it should be.

"you could've at least called me to let me know you were coming over," junhui tells the man dressed in all black in his bedroom. he tosses his coat onto the bed and watches as his guest slowly rises from the velvet loveseat.

"i didn't want to bother you at work," the other says. he walks over and watches as junhui removes his makeup, then his clothes, until he is bare-faced and sitting down in his pajamas.

"well? get on with it," junhui tells him, acting flippant, as if his heart isn't racing in his chest. wonwoo bites down on his bottom lip, trapping words between his teeth.

"alright," wonwoo agrees. he sits beside junhui who turns towards him and tilts his head in offering.

he acts like it is a chore every time, a desperate attempt to try and prove something to wonwoo. say, "you need me, but i do not need you," despite the fact there is a box full of the things wonwoo has given him over the decades that sits carefully under his bed.

"i'm going to do it now," wonwoo says, as if they haven't done this hundreds of times before. junhui rolls his eyes as his fists clench onto the bedsheets below him.

"go ahead," he replies. and then wonwoo is kissing his neck, unnecessary and cruel. junhui is tempted to say something, but then he feels wonwoo's lips part, and his teeth scrape against his skin, and he stops, clenches his jaw instead, as the pain comes.

it only lasts for a second, the piercing pain of wonwoo's sharp fangs sinking into his neck. because then, it's followed by a high, like morphine in your veins, a rush that turns your whole body hot and your brain into a haze. junhui's mind is filled with nothing but wonwoo, wonwoo, wonwoo, and the usual filter reminding him that he is not his is gone.

junhui grips wonwoo's biceps, and the vampire allows him to pull him closer until they are chest to chest. wonwoo's hands settle on his waist, holding junhui like he is something fragile, as the other closes his eyes and allows himself to drown. he groans in pleasure against wonwoo's jaw, and the dark-haired man hums in satisfaction.

junhui asked him to describe it once, what it was like to drink his blood. wonwoo told him the closest way he could explain it was by comparing it to those greek myths, where the gods drink golden nectar that drips down their chins, sweet with magical properties. wonwoo said the taste was something irreplaceable. just like junhui thought he was.

when wonwoo has taken his fill, he pulls away from junhui's neck and embraces him until the human comes back to himself. eyes clearing of their daze, mind slowly returning to the state of remembering that he is a convenience and not a luxury.

"thank you," wonwoo murmurs, licking the wound until it has disappeared without a trace. when he faces junhui again, his eyes go to his lips and then back to his eyes, and junhui is watching, waiting for something else.

"is that all?" he asks. "you've got what you wanted?"

wonwoo hesitates before nodding, wiping his bloodied lips with the back of his hand. he gets up first and fixes his clothes, straightening out his collar the way junhui used to.

"this will never end? will it?" junhui asks, when wonwoo's back is turned.

wonwoo's shoulders tense and his head tilts toward the ground. something akin to shame.

"no, it won't," he responds.

junhui stifles a bitter laugh, not knowing why he asks questions he knows the answers to.

he was the one who suggested the bond after all. an eternal human life with wonwoo, who had lived over a century alone. junhui remembers thinking how perfect it would be. he and wonwoo would travel the world and live as many lives as they want.

their first ones were in shenzhen. they owned a restaurant together and an orange cat that liked junhui more than wonwoo. their second lives were in shanghai. wonwoo was a painter and junhui, his muse. and their third lives were going to be in korea, back in wonwoo's hometown of changwon.

there was a ferry meant to take them there.

junhui got on. wonwoo didn't.

junhui didn't have any doubts. wonwoo did. it was a classic case of being too carefree and having too much trust, believing that someone who hasn't loved anyone in a hundred years would love you for a thousand.

the bond was the worst mistake. because now wonwoo only has one food source, junhui, who the vampire only seeks out on the verge of starvation. he comes by every six months, to torture junhui with the same face he fell in love with. because their youth is the only thing that won't fade. they do their dance, the kiss, the bite, the high, and then wonwoo disappears into the night.

he will come back the next time he is hungry and junhui may or may not still be in montreal. perhaps next time, they will meet in cancun, or oahu, or jeju. junhui wants to go somewhere sunny this time. maybe the sun will scare wonwoo away, him away, into ending this. them.

"i still love you," junhui murmurs, after wonwoo has left. he knows wonwoo is still on his doorstep, that he can hear him. he also knows that if wonwoo wanted to, he could turn around and junhui will welcome him with a kiss on the lips. it's that easy. junhui has always made it that easy.

yet when he opens the door, wonwoo is gone, and a flower has taken his place. junhui puts it in a vase on his counter, where it sits alone, and tries not to slam his fist into the mirror hanging by the wall. wonwoo lost the right to give him gifts and apologies a long time ago, yet junhui accepts them out of a mix of self-hatred and the desire to turn back time.

the only thing he has left is knowing that without him, wonwoo will die. and the unfortunate vice-versa. so he will participate in their dance. and allow wonwoo to seek him out and kiss his skin. but it will never make up for that feeling of standing on the dock while wonwoo told him to leave without him.

"an eternity is not supposed to expire in forty years," junhui remembers saying, tears in his eyes as wonwoo told him he would not change his mind.

"this is better for us," wonwoo had said back. junhui knows he was scared, thought he was enough to remove that fear.

almost another forty years has passed since then. junhui is both 26 and 104. he is simultaneously the bright-eyed university student wonwoo saved from being mugged, and a curator at the montreal museum of fine arts. he is the perfect picture of health and his memory is too clear for his liking.

there is a ring on his finger that matches wonwoo's. he does not take it off despite the fact it has deformed his finger under its snug fit.

藕斷絲連: lovers part but still long for one another.

it is branded into junhui's skin.

love loves it when love does it

[klav]

Ship/Member: Any, gen welcome
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Any, please consider: astronomical levels of fluff, established relationship or friendship, love through doom/grief/hopelessness
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

love is a cloud in the sky that’s also love. i remember today like it was yesterday. i open the door and there stands love, ready to get down, and i’m like whoa, we just met and love’s like i don’t care. love has a history of such indiscretions.
—Garrett Caples, excerpt from "love is made of sky"

the minor fall and the major lift

[sunsparrow]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: None
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Maybe there's a God above
But, all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you?
-Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley

[FILL] holy doves and dynamite

[citrinecowboy]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Seungcheol
Major Tags: Graphic depictions of violence (typical of old Western outlaw stories)
Additional Tags: rated E, cowboys au, svt as an outlaw gang, train robbery, love as devotion, religious tones, a cameo from lee taemin because why not, aftermath of violence, actual violence, gun violence, dynamite blows up, (you get the picture), bottom mingyu if that's an issue for you, keep your cowboy hats on and your expectations low folks
Word Count: 2.6k

I suppose I might as well go for 5 aus at this point, huh?

thank you for this prompt, this is one of my favorite songs <3

yeehaw everybody

i wake up crying, you're just in reach

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: reckless optimism, desperate hope, all tied to one person
Do Not Wants: major character death

Prompt:

You're like my yo-yo that glowed in the dark
What made it special made it dangerous
So I bury it and forget

But every time it rains, you're here in my head, like the sun coming out
Oh, I just know that something good is gonna happen
I don't know when, but just saying it could even make it happen

- Cloudbusting, Kate Bush

the body I was given vs the body I wanted

[hwarium]

Ship/Member: Any (consider:lesbian jihoon)
Major Tags: source text contains some body dysmorphia + has mature themes
Additional Tags: online relationships, when online personas are more real than reality, honesty in anonymity
Do Not Wants: None - please feel free to take the source text and run

Prompt:

For me, as a genderfluid person who grew up on zines and Livejournal, there’s something sentimental and electric about these word-first interactions. It’s a thrill to build my body from scratch, to write it into being. Text—interpellation—is a powerful means of gender affirmation, and fucking with the body I write can feel more profound than fucking with the body I was given

- Jinhua Qian, Sexting at the End of the World

[FILL] feelin the like

[thembocollector]

Ship/Member: gyuhan, seungcheol, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, seungkwan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: prob goofier than the prompt intended i am So Sorry, discord shenans
Permission to remix: Yes

***

[SERVER: writer on writer violence]

#announcements

proto-diamond | 01/01/2023 12:03 AM
@ everyone happy new year!
it's been a pleasure moderating this server and sprinting with everyone for the past year. i hope that the new year brings you joy, happiness, and of course, more writing!

#general

jeonghan | 01/01/2023 12:04 AM
hny ggwp all :partyparrot:

mantiger | 01/01/2023 12:04 AM
happy new year!!! thank you so much lovely modmin for hardcarrying this server :tigerbop:

proto-diamond | 01/01/2023 12:07 AM
couldn't have done it without @ wonu as my fellow mod :popbop:

Kim Mingyu | 01/01/2023 1:01 AM
i amm so drnk lOVE YOU ALLLLLLLLLLL HAPPY YEAR

proto-diamond | 01/01/2023 1:01 AM
for the last time @ Kim Mingyu please change your username to ensure anonymity

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:10 AM
finnnnaly figured out how to

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:10 AM
change name

wonu | 01/01/2023 1:11 AM
i don't think this is any better

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:20 AM
@ jeonghan what are you

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:20 AM
@ jeonghan do you have any plans

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:20 AM
@ jeonghan jeonghan i know youre online answer me

the8 | 01/01/2023 1:25 AM
Go To Bed, Whore


#announcements

proto-diamond | 01/01/2023 1:26AM
i won't be pinging @ everyone this time, but PLEASE do not harass members, and if a member has the NO DMs role, then PLEASE DO NOT continue to chat them up in #general. thank you!

#general

the8 | 01/01/2023 1:26 AM
This Is Kind Of Sad To Witness

boo | 01/01/2023 1:26 AM
How will he ever recover from this?

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:26 AM
who are you guys talkin

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:29 AM
about

jeonghan | 01/01/2023 1:29 AM
go to bed, @ kmmngyu

mantiger | 01/01/2023 1:29 AM
OMG

wonu | 01/01/2023 1:30 AM
@ jeonghan don't

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:35 AM
im so drukn i didnt get a kiss on NYE

the8 | 01/01/2023 1:36 AM
This Is Kind Of Sad To Witness (2)
:F:

proto-diamond | 01/01/2023 1:40AM
@ kmmngyu i'm stripping you of your role as a verified writer if you don't move to #nsfw-irl

#nsfw-irl

kmmngyu | 01/01/2023 1:41 AM
im HORNY
[mantiger, the8, wonu, reacted with :F:]
[proto-diamond reacted with :BANHAMMER:]

love as a dilution and refraction

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: ok MINWON???? or WONHAN??? or any yearner in hhu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: unreturned love, pining from the outside, bittersweet au maybe, tbh take this wherever u want to go i just got punched in the gut by this
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

What is love if you get it secondhand? Is it a fact or merely a detail?

— Brandon Taylor, All About My Mother (incl. in What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About)

but love is memory

[millionrmb]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: break ups/getting back together, (when you're broken up but were never really together), complicated/ambiguous relationships... consider: literal memory loss (scifi, eternal sunshine?)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember
It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender
And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning
I never know what to think about

I think about you

The 1975 — About You

[thembocollector]

Ship/Member: Any, although if you end up w/ gyuhan i will repay u somehow !!
Major Tags: non-idol universe; modern setting
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: character death

Prompt:

Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
- A Supermarket in California; Allen Ginsberg