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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no light lasts forever but i'd sit in the dark with you

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: any, but i am begging for wonhoon
Major Tags: mcd????
Additional Tags: apocalyptic au, disasters, tbh i am just thinking about the futility of life in the wake of grief but also how beautiful it would be to have a friend for the end of the world, how companionship might be enough, even in the end. how brave you have to be to face something together.
Do Not Wants: n/a

Prompt:

"Yeah?"
"In the end, it's going to have to get absorbed."
"So no light lasts forever?"
"Right."
- all the lovers in the night, mieko kawakami

[FILL] it comes in waves

[notlettuce]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jihoon
Major Tags: MCD
Additional Tags: Surviving the apocalypse with a friend of a friend after losing the guy who brought you together, grief/guilt, natural distasters
Permission to remix: No
WC: 1k

***

Posted to AO3 because I’m on my phone and HTML scares me: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43851483

i carry myself with me

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: any, but i'm rooting for junhui/anyone
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: canon compliant, idolverse, OR famous/nonfamous au, what does it mean to Find Yourself as an idol, identity crises and the tribulations of dating in the modern age when you are famous and all your fans want to date you, inkigayo sandwiches and awkward first dates and other existential crises, etc; make this as funny and/or as sad as you want!!
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"When it comes to love, the only weapon that we've got is our emotions, right? So what can you do when your foundation's all messed up? IIf that's the state you're in, there's no way you can ever get serious with anybody."
- all the lovers in the night, mieko kawakami

[FILL] how do i be your baby

[lovekyeoms]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Seokmin
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: canon compliant, learning to want and be wanted
Permission to remix: Yes
WC: 1.8k

crossposted on ao3: https://ao3.org/works/43849824

hope you enjoy<33
***

Seeing Jaehyun at music shows stopped being awkward a month after their breakup, if it could be called that. They tried their hand at… something, after Seokmin’s highschool crush on Jaehyun was aired on live radio by Seungkwan. Jaehyun approached him afterwards, said he thought Seokmin was cute. Seokmin remembers feeling like he could faint any second.

They lasted a little over a month. It was to be expected, Seokmin thinks, looking back. They were too young, not even twenty years old, trying to navigate having a million fans fighting for remnants of their attention and ruthless paparazzi at their tail the moment they stepped outside. There were other reasons, Seokmin knows, but finds no purpose in delving into. He hasn’t even had a situationship since then, so he deems himself safe from such worries.

Until an interviewer at a show they’re on blatantly flirts with him.

Usually Seokmin would ignore it, laugh it off, probably not even notice it among the chaos of thirteen people talking over each other. But the interviewer keeps looking him in the eye, complimenting him, and it leaves Seokmin feeling awkward like his shoes are too big for his feet. He keeps trying to joke it off, to divert the focus to other members just to have this stranger’s unbridled attention away from him for one second, leaving him sweating like he’s standing under the harshest of spotlights.

It all comes to a close when the interview ends and they do their greeting, thanking the staff for their hard work. The interviewer stops him before he can run away, hands him their number on a small piece ripped from their cue card. Seokmin bows profusely and tries very hard not to glance around nervously as all of this happens. He slips the piece of paper into his pants pocket as they say goodbye to each other, and throws it into the furthest depths of his bag once he gets to the dressing room.

“Dokyeom-ah,” Soonyoung hollers once he notices he’s there, his pants only halfway on. “The interviewer, huh? You heartthrob!”

“Hyung, please,” Seokmin pleads, thinking his face must be red enough to show through his foundation at this point. “Anything else, but not this.”

“Alright, alright,” Soonyoung relents easily, smirking at first, though it drops immediately when he notices the mortified expression on Seokmin’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Seokmin breathes out. “I just- I was caught off guard, I guess.”

Seungkwan snorts from the couch next to them. “Hyung, you've been in this business for years, how can you still be surprised when people randomly ask you out?”
Because it’s not who I am, Seokmin thinks. The romantic heartthrob department is Mingyu. Maybe Jeonghan hyung or Wonwoo hyung. Not me. It should only be as part of a bit when it’s me.

“Guess I just forget sometimes,” he manages to get out, chuckling at himself about how worked up he got over such a thing.


He’s watching a drama in the living room later that week when Wonwoo walks into their dorm.

“Have you seen Vernon?” he asks Seokmin. Seokmin looks away from his drama for a second to look at him: long sleeved t-shirt that’s huge on him, horn-rimmed glasses, bedhead. He makes himself turn away a few seconds later.

“He went out for ice cream with Chan.”

“Oh. Okay,” Wonwoo says, and instead of walking out the way he came, he walks around the couch to sit next to Seokmin. Seokmin keeps his eyes trained on the drama even though it’s a scene of the side couple he doesn’t really care for. Wonwoo sits still next to him.

“Do you think they-”

“Yep,” Seokmin cuts him off, realizing he doesn’t really want to talk with Wonwoo about their group members dating. Maybe, if the others were there and they could laugh it off. But with just Wonwoo here Seokmin knows it won’t be like that, and he isn’t very eager to see how the conversation would go.

So this is allowed? he had wanted to ask when he first found out, Hansol and Chan making all of them gather in the 9th floor living room for the announcement. His gaze had kept flickering in Wonwoo’s direction to gauge his reaction.

The thought of touching each other away from the unwavering gaze of cameras or under the pretense of friendly familiarity had shaken him, forced him to step outside of the imaginary bars he had built inside his head. To want and have it not be a joke.

“Is it different now, living with them?” Wonwoo asks a while later, and when Seokmin turns to look at him on instinct Wonwoo’s eyes are already on him, sitting sideways on the couch.

“Not really,” Seokmin says, after thinking about it. “I was worried it would, but-” sighs out, turning away again to stare emptily at the TV.
“It’s still us, in the end.”


There’s a number in Joshua’s sandwich at Inkigayo the next week.

Joshua scrunches his face up when he gets to the third bite of his sandwich, and when he manages to take the small piece of paper out of his mouth it’s covered in mayonnaise and the ink has smudged enough to make the number one of at least a thousand different possibilities. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, looking around to see if anyone’s watching him before hiding the piece of paper in a crumpled up tissue.

Seokmin is genuinely surprised. He thought their group was too old for that stuff now. The other members don’t seem to pay any mind to it, other than Jeonghan joking about how the sandwich was probably meant for him instead and earning a jab of Joshua’s elbow. Seokmin keeps thinking about whoever went to the lengths to put their number inside a fellow idol’s sandwich and whether they really thought it would work. Seems more like a practical joke to make idols terrified of biting into their food than anything.


It all comes to a boil with Mingyu and his boyfriend photos.

They’re sitting inside a restaurant in Boston, waiting for their food to be served, and Mingyu hands his phone to Wonwoo and cutely asks for him to take photos of him. Wonwoo takes the phone without a word, snapping what sounds like ten photos per second, only muttering directives from time to time, telling Mingyu to roll his shoulder back, angle his head down, move his hair away from his face. They only stop once the waiter walks over with their food, and judging by the giddy smile on Mingyu’s face as he scrolls through his camera roll, Wonwoo seems to have done a good job.

“Do you want me to take some pictures of you too, Dokyeom-ah?” he asks Seokmin later, when their plates have been cleared to make room for dessert.
“Me?” Seokmin asks, lips already taking the shape of a smile. “Hyung, come on, you know this is Mingyu’s genre.”

“Why not?” Wonwoo asks, seeming genuinely confused.

“You know, the whole boyfriend, people-being-obsessed-with-him thing?” Seokmin explains, feeling himself growing smaller as he talks. “It wouldn’t work on me.”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t do that,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyebrows furrowed. “Is it awkward for you?”

“You’re hot, Seokmin,” Mingyu cuts Wonwoo off, completely serious. Seokmin bites his lips around a smile, and nods resolutely.

“Yes sir!”


The next day, Seokmin stays in the hotel room after their concert. Jeonghan leaves to join the others in the pool, and pokes his tongue out at Seokmin when he says he’s not coming.

His phone buzzes with a notification when he’s in the middle of washing his face, and it’s a text from Wonwoo asking him to check Weverse.

Seokmin exits Kakaotalk to open said app, and sees a post made by Wonwoo only two minutes ago. When he clicks on the post to see the gallery, he’s met with a dozen photos; some of the city, some of the cafe they went to, and some of him, though he doesn’t remember Wonwoo’s lens being pointed at him that day at all. He looks different in the pictures compared to the ones usually posted of him online: serious in some of them and laughing in the others, his hair messy, face bare, more Lee Seokmin than Dokyeom.

He remembers a drunk Mingyu waxing poetic about how a picture could tell a thousand words. He thinks of Wonwoo holding his trustworthy camera with his long, delicate fingers and pointing it at him, looking at him through the lens.

He’s interrupted by a knock on the door, and when he opens it Wonwoo walks in. He’s wearing his clear-framed glasses tonight. The beanie he’s wearing is Seokmin’s, though he doesn’t plan on telling him that.

Neither of them say anything for a while. Wonwoo sits on Seokmin’s bed and Seokmin sits on the armchair facing it.

“Did you see the pictures?” Wonwoo asks him.

“Yes, I did. Thank you, hyung,” Seokmin says, and before his brain can catch up to his mouth, “But why?”

“I wanted you to see yourself from my eyes,” Wonwoo says, his deep voice serious, his gaze trying to meet Seokmin’s.

“But why?” Seokmin presses again, voice strained in a mix of confusion and desperation.

“Because you won’t listen to me otherwise,” Wonwoo says, after a moment’s pause. Realizing Seokmin’s pointed silence, he huffs out a breath.

“Is it so hard to think someone can like you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Ah, hyung,” Seokmin mumbles, ready to joke, “you know the fans say-”

“I’m not talking about the fans,” Wonwoo cuts him off, leaning his elbows on his knees so their gazes are level.

“Dokyeom-ah, tell me,” he asks, pleading, “is it so hard to think someone can like you for you? To think that someone can be- be serious about you?”

Seokmin stands frozen still. Stupidly, irrationally, he thinks about the possibility of all of this being a hidden camera prank. He sighs to himself, then, dropping his head to look down at his lap.

“What do you mean, hyung,” he asks, suddenly tired.

“I’m saying that I want you, Seokmin-ah,” Wonwoo answers him, reaching out between the small distance between them to take his hand. When Seokmin looks up, Wonwoo’s eyes are once again already on him. “And that I would totally slip my number into your sandwich if we were in different groups or hand it to you myself after an interview.”

“You wouldn’t do any of those things,” Seokmin blurts out.

“That’s true, but I’m doing this, aren’t I?” Wonwoo asks, smiling that small smile at him.

Seokmin gives himself a second to wait; for the punchline, for the cameras to pop out, for the Surprise! banner to drop down from the ceiling.

None of that happens. Instead, what he gets is this: Wonwoo placing those delicate fingers on his jaw and pulling him close, close, closer. And surprisingly, himself meeting Wonwoo in the middle, the moment clear in his mind's eye like cameras flashing.

look up at the sky; isn't it so blue?

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: soonyoung/junhui, any variation of 96z + a gemini line member
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: magic realism AU! the world is wondrous and bright and i think soonhui are so good at pointing that out to other people
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

What if it's true about the air and our hands?
That they're only an extension of an
outside reaching in?
I'm pointing to me and to you to look out at this world.
- Natalie Diaz

[denimdreams]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: possibly mcd?
Additional Tags: honestly go wild with it but again, possibly mcd? or coming of age-isms?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

We said forever but forever wouldn't wait for us

-Last Young Renegade, All Time Low

[FILL] the signs and symptoms of

[tangerinekth]

Ship/Member: mingyu/minghao
Major Tags: major character death
Additional Tags: mentions of cancer, illness, heavy angst, established gyuhao, implied mcd
Permission to remix: please ask

***

"i'm sick," minghao states, closing the apartment door behind him.

"sorry, what did you say?" there's no glance up. mingyu's round eyes are locked on a recipe in a chinese cookbook, and minghao almost smiles at the sight of his fiancé trying to pronounce "zī rán yáng ròu" under his breath.

but he doesn't. instead, minghao sighs and tries again. "i just came back from the hospital." he places the pamphlets he was given by the doctor on the table. mingyu finally turns his head and looks at them. the cookbook falls out of his hands and the thump on the tile floor causes minghao's breath to hitch.

"hao, what is that?" said not because he doesn't understand, but because he refuses to. because despite having turned 25 last month, mingyu still sees the world through the bright and shiny eyes of a child. and the words, "LIVER PATIENT CANCER GUIDE" are not meant to be consumed by a child.

"i'm sorry," minghao says, eyes on the ground. "i'm sorry," he repeats. because he doesn't know what else to do than stand there as the foundation of the life he created collapses around him.

"this-this doesn't make any sense," mingyu stutters. he flips every page back and forth, scanning every word, every letter waiting for a mistake, an error. something that will scream at him that this is all a prank. because minghao can't be sick.

minghao can't be sick.

"you... you said your last doctor's appointment went fine. y-you said that today was just because they forgot something last time," mingyu chokes out, voice growing louder as his hands begin to shake. he doesn't mean to crumple the page labeled "SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS" in his hand. but he does and it tears, and the sound of paper ripping under mingyu's calloused hand will be ingrained in minghao's mind for the rest of his life.

"i lied. i shouldn't have. i'm sorry."

mingyu staggers like he's been shot as he moves to take a seat at the table. he buries his face in his hands and minghao thinks that he's going to scream. and when he does, this entire apartment building will crash down on them. the walls will fall on their heads, break their bones, strip their consciousnesses away, and it will no longer matter if there is a tumor in your liver or not. you will be dead and the causality will not be relevant.

"how far along is it?" mingyu asks in an almost whimper. minghao can hear the sobs sitting in his throat and sits next to him in an attempt to slow them down.

"stage two," minghao answers. "they said it's still early."

at this, mingyu's head pops up. he whips around to look at his partner and the hope in his eyes burns like a lantern in the darkness.

"so if you start treatment now, then there's a chance you'll be cured?" mingyu stands up and jets around their kitchen like a madman, rummaging through sticky notes and business cards until he finds what he wants and pushes it into minghao's hands. "jeonghan. your friend jeonghan. he's a doctor, right? have you spoken to him? maybe he can—"

"mingyu," minghao says. mingyu freezes, but his warm hands are still wrapped around minghao's, emanating heat like a furnace.

"what, hao?" and it's clear he wants to shout, to fight. yet he doesn't, because kim mingyu doesn't start arguments. especially not with people that he loves, or are dying, or both.

"just stop moving for a second, okay? fuck. i-i can't think," minghao pleads, suddenly out of breath.

he leaves for their bedroom. mingyu takes a deep breath before mustering the courage to follow him.

"i don't know what to fucking say right now other than i'm sorry and i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much and i still can't believe that this is real either. so just give me a second, okay?" minghao requests, pacing around the room.

mingyu hesitantly, but eventually nods. he knows minghao needs this and he will give it to him. but it's difficult to not overthink as he waits for minghao to be ready. he runs over a million scenarios in his head, looking for signs he missed, things he could have prevented. but he can't come up with anything. minghao is the healthiest person he knows. he exercises, goes on hikes, drinks herbal teas, doesn't smoke cigarettes, and the only alcohol he indulges in is a glass of red wine on date night.

minghao has done everything right.

yet minghao is sick. the tests don't lie and neither does minghao.

fuck, minghao is sick.

the reality is all-consuming, and mingyu feels light-headed again as he looks at his partner of six years. the urge to cry is back in full force again and mingyu cannot be blamed for the sniffles he makes as he tries to stop it.

but too late. his sad sounds catch minghao's attention and the younger is rushing to him. minghao's gentle hand on his back only makes it worse and mingyu begins to wail. minghao's only solution is to bring him closer, and hold him until mingyu finds the strength to embrace him as well.

"don't cry," he says in an attempt to soothe. mingyu makes a whining sound and shakes his head petulantly like a child. he retaliates by squeezing minghao against his chest until the only way they can be separated from each other is through surgical removal.

"why didn't you tell me?" mingyu sobs.

"i was scared," minghao admits, mind now more put together. "i didn't want it to be true. i didn't want you to know."

"minghao... i love you. you know i love you too, right?" mingyu asks in a cracked voice. "i care about you and i-i just want to be able to support you through anything you're going through."

"i know. i know," minghao tells him, guilty of doubting for a second otherwise.

"our wedding," mingyu gasps between tears, as another thought catches hold of him. "the money we saved, we can use it to pay for your treatment. i'll talk to our insurance company, and we can—"

"gyu," minghao interrupts again. because as much as he adores how much mingyu cares, he doesn't want to think about it right now. he wants to focus on this, them.

"hao," mingyu responds, tearing up again. he buries his face in minghao's neck and the younger can feel the teardrops leaving their marks on his skin.

minghao is the one closer to dying yet if anyone were to walk in right now they would assume mingyu is, with the way his sobs begin to cover minghao's quiet ones. but perhaps that is the reality. because before meeting mingyu, minghao had never had a good reason to wake up, and since mingyu was born, he has lived for the sake of love. and since minghao is that love, maybe mingyu is ill as well.

minghao finds he may be far sicker.

"i'm going to do everything i can to get better." the lamp light reflects off of the silver band on minghao's hand, and catches his eye. "and we're going to get married." he tastes salt on his lips, realizes he doesn't know when his eyes began to burn. "i love you so much, mingyu."

"i love you too, minghao," mingyu manages to get out. "i love you too." he kisses up minghao's neck until their lips meet, and mingyu's tears taste more bitter than minghao's own.

"we can make some calls tomorrow, okay?" minghao says when he pulls away, running his thumb over the apple of mingyu's cheek. because they still have time. if everything goes right, they can still have the forever mingyu promised minghao at the top of bukhansan mountain. the promise of always that is written in the vows sitting inside minghao's nightstand.

"i'll stay by your side forever, i promise you, hao," mingyu swears, pulling him in for another kiss. and it's so much like an "i do" at the end of the aisle that minghao cannot help but feel like maybe he and mingyu are already married. perhaps this is the closest they will get to forever.

because sometimes doctors are wrong.

sometimes treatments don't work.

sometimes people can be sick.

sometimes.

sometimes forever will not wait for you.

are you okay with that ending?

[kwontent]

Ship/Member: any but scoups or mingyu as the proposer seems right
Major Tags: finding an engagement ring before you’re ready to get married
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

I beat around the bush to ask for the size of your ring

And you laughed at me when I asked for your shoe size

- indigo la end | 通り恋

i think maybe you’re lost

[kwontent]

Ship/Member: joshua x someone
Major Tags: drunk calling someone you shouldn’t
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

And I don't wanna talk
When you're knockin' off drunk at four o'clock
I thought you were blocked
Fuck off stop calling me, Josh

- peach prc | josh

[FILL] i think maybe you’re lost

[shuamuses]

Ship/Member: seokmin/joshua
Major Tags: n/a
Additional Tags: alcohol mention, messy exes, long-suffering seokmin
Permission to remix: Yes

crossposted to ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43915278

***
when the sound of seokmin’s ringtone breaks through his sleep-haze he just about jumps out of his skin. the soft glow of the clock informs him of the time — he’d barely been asleep for two hours after stumbling home from the studio, with only the presence of mind to shovel a cup of instant ramen into his body and take a shower before he collapsed in bed.

he flips his phone over to glance at the screen, wincing at the light that blooms in the pitch-dark room. the accusing red icon stares back at him — five missed calls already. his exhaustion must’ve dulled the sound of the ringer. one finger twitches towards the blinking green button even as the annoyance rushes through him. seokmin hesitates — what good could come of this?

but his heart is soft, even now. even for him.

he was supposed to have blocked this number. he would’ve, if he was smarter. there were others he could call, anyway, if he needed help.

but if joshua really needed him, would seokmin be able to say no?

he sighs, knowing the decision was made the minute he’d read the name on the screen.

“seokmin-ah, you picked up!” joshua sounds almost disbelieving, effervescent. seokmin hates the way his voice still warms him from within.

“what do you want, hyung?”

“i missed you~ what were you doing?” his words are sliding against each other, enunciation gone to shit. a telltale sign he’s been drinking.

“seriously, it’s four in the morning. i thought you were dying or something, but this is all you called to talk about?” seokmin’s words are clipped, tight and level, every muscle in his chest tensed to keep everything he wants to be saying instead from spilling out.

“can i come over? make it up to you?”

“make it up to me?” his voice catches in his throat. “what exactly do you think you can do that would make things right again?”

“come on, babe. i miss you, and i’m sorry okay? you’re the only one for me.” his tone is cajoling, and seokmin can almost imagine the slow smile spreading across joshua’s lips.

the apology sinks in his chest like a stone. the wound, even unspoken, feels rubbed raw from the admission of guilt joshua had never deigned to give him when they’d broken up.

if joshua had said these words a month ago — if joshua had said these words sober, even now — seokmin might have taken it.

“fuck off,” seokmin’s voice is hoarse and strained, but even like this he can’t bring himself to shut the door entirely. “come back when you’re ready to be honest in the daylight.”

the night started out well

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Any but particularly cheol…or jun…
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Unrequited love (doesn’t have to be romantic), loss of hope you’re not wanting to admit
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

[All my love is spinning ‘round the room
If only it would land on something soon

- End of a Friendship, Julia Jacklin]

[FILL]: here in my palms (lays my heart)

[yoonouvre]

Ship/Member: seungcheol/jeonghan, seungcheol/original characters (background)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: elements of a curse (if you want to look at it that way), having so much love in yourself it makes you desperate, losing that love in yourself which also makes you desperate, this is word vomit
Permission to remix: Please ask
800+ words, not edited ao3 link
I'm not sure if this was what the prompter was expecting but this strayed away from what i was aiming for

***

The issue with Choi Seungcheol was that he was born with a heart bigger than his body. The organ in his chest cavity filled with all the love that seemingly had no way out. Maybe that was the reason he was so willing to be in a relationship with anyone who asked. It was as if he was saying, "here you are, I see you, be with me and relieve me of the burden that is weighing down my heart."

But the thing was that his relationships didn't last long. He remembers being in love and then being the only one in love. Maybe it was a curse, having so much love inside himself. Maybe they saw it on him, hanging around his neck like an x-ray scan. His heart beating visibly, his ribs open and stretched out like hands beckoning someone in, "please come in, love me and let me love you too."

It might have been scary for them, he would always reason with himself. Not everyone wanted to share that burden. Every relationship that ended left him feeling a bit lighter but gave him a bit of emptiness in exchange. He didn't know what was better, his heart heavy with love or the lack of it with every failed relationship.

It became a well known thing among his peers, some people thought he had no dignity left because of the amount of times his lovers had left him behind, if he could even call them that. But there was not one time where he regretted anything. It was life and it was his choice, how could he ever regret loving someone?

It felt like he was walking with a flashing sign on himself, "love me, please love me, i have so much of it i don't know what to do with it please take it."

Jihoon had once called him a masochist, asked him why he would go heart first in a relationship that he knew was not going to work out. Seungcheol told him he wouldn't understand.

But then there came a time when the love inside him had depleted so much it felt like there was nothing left, not a drop for himself. And so from then he started finding people who would help him fill it back. Four different relationships not lasting for over three months, he was broken. Was he not loveable?

Now it felt like the sign around his neck had changed. "love me, please love me, i don't think i have any more left, please help me and give it back."

Out of the four relationships three were at least able to help him give some of the love even if it wasn't what he was giving them. The feelings of love left unrequited but given back in the form of like, he would take it. He would take anything he could get his hands on.

It was the last one that had left him inevitably heartbroken even though he knew it wouldn't last. Maybe it was because it left him wondering if he could keep on going anymore. It felt like he was giving up and he didn't want to. The little plant of hope in his heart withering away. He couldn't let it die, he'd try to keep it alive even if it was drop by drop.

Wonwoo thought Seungcheol was an idiot for staying in loveless relationships that left him feeling the way he did. Seungcheol thought Wonwoo was a good friend for not calling him desperate. Wonwoo could be brutally honest to a fault but he wasn't cruel.

With how Wonwoo was towards Seungcheol and his affinity to relationship failures, he was surprised when he set him up for a date. Yoon Jeonghan, Wonwoo tells him, you'll like him. When Seungcheol asked him why he thought so he only said he's just like you. He didn't elaborate further and they left it at that.

When Seungcheol got Jeonghan's number they continued to talk further on the other man's condition that they don't show each other how they look until their date. Seungcheol thought Jeonghan was interesting. So now he knew that Jeonghan loved strawberries but not what his eyes looked like.

They finally set up a date and told each other where to sit and what they'll wear so that it's easy for them to find each other. Seungcheol hadn't been that excited for a date in years.

When he walked in he saw his date sitting there in the exact outfit he was told he'd be wearing, sitting at the table right by the window like they had discussed. The sunlight filtering through casted beams around him that made him look like some kind of divine being. Dressed in a black turtleneck with long black wispy hair curling around his ears, was sitting his inevitable doom.

And when he looked up to see Seungcheol, he gave him a sweet smile with closed lips, a hand raised up in a wave. That was when Seungcheol knew Yoon Jeonghan was either going to settle himself inside his chest and weld his ribs back or break his heart and leave him bloody.

bones and all

[tenjouh]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo, Seungcheol (or Wonwoo x any)
Major Tags: Cannibalism, major character death
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

eat of me baby, skin to the bone
body on body, until i'm all gone
but i'm with you, inside

- famous last words (an ode to eaters) by ethel cain

[FILL] bones and all

[almondtree]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Seungcheol
Major Tags: MCD, gore, cannibalism
Additional Tags: ambiguous relationship, the inherent intimacy of eating someone whole and raw, canon-typical woncheol protectiveness
Permission to remix: Yes

***
the fever is getting worse. sweat is beading on seungcheol’s forehead, his skin pale and clammy with it, his eyes nearly black with delirium. wonwoo can practically hear his brain cooking in his skull.

“you can’t go,” wonwoo murmurs, crouched next to the naked mattress, pressing his own cold hands to seungcheol’s face like they might put out the fire. “you can’t leave me, hyung, what will i do without you? what can i do now?”

seungcheol reaches up to touch him too, or at least he tries; his hand doesn’t get more than a few inches off the side of the mattress before it falls back helplessly. “you can eat,” he says.

no. “no, i can’t, no.” desperately, wonwoo shoves up seungcheol’s shirt; the ripped towels he’s been using as bandages are already soaked through again, with blood and whatever else used to be inside him. wonwoo can smell that he’s dying, that the infection is too deep already. “i can’t go search for someone right now and leave you alone.”

“you’re hungry,” seungcheol slurs. this time both of his hands make it all the way to wonwoo’s neck, and tug him down with the last of the strength left in them. wonwoo squeezes halfway onto the mattress, one leg slung over seungcheol’s, combing through his hair with his fingers.

“it would hurt you.”

“everything is already hurting me.” he’s shivering against wonwoo’s side now. “i want it, wonwoo-yah. i want you to be full.”

wonwoo doesn’t want it. but he needs it, he knows that, the hunger is like a yawning pit in his stomach and it will swallow him whole if he lets it. “you can’t eat an eater,” he says pitifully. it’s his last defense. he feels stupid for being so fragile right now when seungcheol is the one dying. “that’s what seokmin told me.”

“that was one of his rules,” says seungcheol. “every one of us has their own rules, but this is us, wonwoo, it’s just us. it’s me. i want to feed you. i want to make you a little happier than everyone else.”

he sounds clearer than he has in days. for a moment wonwoo thinks he’s getting better, that the fever has finally fought its way out of him, but when he pulls away to check, seungcheol’s eyes are still glassy and unfocused, his lips are still dry and cracking. the bottom one has split, little beads of blood seeping out of it. wonwoo leans in and presses their lips together, an impulse driven by the fact he knows he won’t get another chance. he can taste the sickness in the blood as it smears between their mouths.

“i’d starve for you, if you asked me to,” he says.

“i'm not asking you to.” seungcheol’s head lolls to the side, baring the skin of his neck, his long dark hair stuck to it with sweat. “i’m asking you to eat. carry me in you, wonwoo. love me.”

the first hot gush of his blood across wonwoo’s tongue is like a dam breaking. wonwoo can feel himself crying as he eats, the salt of tears and blood mingling in his mouth, and hear a distant sweet lowing like cattle being slaughtered; it takes him a moment to realize it’s him making the noise. seungcheol is silent beneath him. he doesn’t make a single noise when wonwoo bites into the soft pocket beneath his jaw, doesn’t do anything but lie there and let wonwoo swallow him.

“you’ll be the first,” wonwoo says through a mouthful of seungcheol’s cheek. “the first one i eat bones and all. you’re special, hyung.”

he is special—this is special—when else would a predator eat another predator? who else would ask wonwoo to love them?

strangers

[firmamentss]

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

Prompt:

We could've had the world
We could've had each other
But all that's said and done
We're better off as strangers
Now it's quiet when I sleep
It's quiet when I'm dreaming
It's just another week
To live without a feeling

- Aquilo, Better of as strangers

winter blues

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: yearning/longing for someone you love, winter bringing feelings of melancholy
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:

In the springtime
Those memories start to fade
With the April rain
Through the summer days
'Til autumn's leaves are gone
I get by without you
'Til the snow begins to fall

~ Mariah Carey, Miss You
Most (at Christmas Time)

[purplepinkskies]

Ship/Member: maybe jicheol..... but any member/ship is fine. gen fic is more than welcome too
Major Tags: burnout, bottling up feelings
Additional Tags: the conflicts when your hobby/passion becomes your job, that feeling when you're so tired you don't even want to open your eyes for a few days at least, relying on people seems a chore when you think about it but once you do it, it's healing; anything else! please interpret this in any other way you want
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“There's a certain way I talk about the things I don't talk about. Maybe that's true for all of us. We have ways of closing off the conversation so that we don't ever get directly asked what we can't bear to answer.”

“I suppose I missed writing, but in a way you miss someone you used to love.”

both quotes are by John Green from “The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet”

i don't want to love you anymore

[stickystickysticky]

Ship/Member: Any (some that come to mind: Mingyu/Any or Seungkwan/Any or Jeonghao??? but really any)
Major Tags: Not divorced yet, not really married right now.
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"I'm so tired of fighting. Can we just stop?"
"You're not willing to fight for anything"

- Parenthood, fight between Joel and Julia during their separation

so close behind you [ANY]

[bamboozled]

Ship/yMember: Any
Major Tags: n/a
Additional Tags: grief
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

know that i am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, i think you can reach mine

- leonard cohen’s final letter to his muse, marianne

[FILL] lingering

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Seokmin
Major Tags: post-breakup, canon compliant
Additional Tags: rock with you band version filming
Permission to remix: Yes

***

The day after the breakup is the worst.

It's not the wide berth the members afford Mingyu as he stews in emotion during soundcheck. It's not the pointed glances at him, then at Seokmin, then back at him. Not the distance either, no.

It's the lingering thing. The feelings.

The set's speakers blare with voice-over instructions from the director. "'Rock With You,' take one." The members meet it with a chorus of assent, the brightest of them coming from Seokmin. As it always had, even before the relationship.

Mingyu grumbles a yes and ignores the look Seungkwan gives him. Not everyone's like Seokmin, someone who can shine after calling off a six-month relationship.

Which was mutual this time, for the record. A "career and friendship first, attraction second," thing, which Mingyu reasonably agreed to, because he's reasonable. But that doesn't mean he has to be all sunshine and rainbows—

Wonwoo's elbow digs into his side. "We're filming."

"Ouch," Mingyu says more as a jab than a reaction, massaging his rib right before the director shouts "Action!"

The song starts. Mingyu nods his head, tuning into the music. The habit of the song, even without the choreography, is enough to tone down the bad vibes in his system. Before he knows it, he's singing in time for the verse just as he rehearsed before passing the baton to Seungcheol. A breath before he braces himself for hearing his ex's voice, in all its belting, moved-on glory.

Right as Seokmin sings the first line, the music cuts. The speakers come to life, the voice-over ringing. "DK," says the director, "please liven up your expression."

"Sorry," is Seokmin's immediate reply, a hand raised in apology. From across the set, Soonyoung's brows crease in confusion, with matching glances of concern from the others—

That isn't Mingyu's problem. He shakes his head, rests both his hands on the microphone stand. Not his problem, not anymore. He stops his gaze right before it reaches the back of Seokmin's head, instead training it on Minghao.

Who is staring at him like he just kicked a horse. Or got kicked by a horse. Either way, Mingyu hates it. But not as much as he hates the way Seokmin spares a glance that doesn't reach him.

Mingyu hates the lingering thing.

The music starts. Mingyu nods his head again, tuning into the music. Not his problem, even if he wants it to be.
🚀

where is home if not somewhere you can never return?

[latespring]

Ship/Member: network love line suggested, but open to anyone!
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: inspiration home and art: the eternal puzzle
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

And if home is where the art is, why are you
leaving again,

and when are you going to come back?

-Jennifer Bullis; "When Your Name Is Amanda Bubble, You Don’t Get to Cry at the Bar"

[poppyseedheart]

Ship/Member: jeonghan (sorry i am who i am), any ship or gen is cool
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

& if I present
my body as a sacrifice I can finally walk away from it.

—Erin Slaughter, The Sorrow Festival

[FILL] hollow

[lachrymosy]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan, gen
Major Tags: Implied eating disorder, body image issues
Additional Tags: idolverse
Permission to remix: Yes

***

“Just be yourself,” Jeonghan advises when Mingyu seeks him out early in the morning before a solo schedule, nervous about appearing alone. “What more could they ask for?”

“A lot, I think,” Mingyu grumbles. His hair sticks out to one side and his eyes are swollen from sleep, but Jeonghan thinks he still looks good enough for the cover of a magazine.

“Don’t think so much about yourself,” Jeonghan teases, poking him in the cheek. “You’re more than enough just as you are!”

He means it, and Mingyu leaves a little less shaky than before.

In the silence, Jeonghan watches frost form on his window, the orange glow of sunrise outside. He stays in bed until the afternoon.

—

The idol industry is, inherently, built on comparison.

At eighteen Jeonghan was made to stand in many lines, usually hovering somewhere near the end. He was bad at dancing, bad at singing, bad at talking, bad at composing, bad at acting, and everyone could see based on where he stood. The only time he ever got moved to the front was when they were assessed for appearance. Good-looking, someone would say. We can make something out of that face.

At the front of the line, Jeonghan could feel all eyes fall on him. He stared at his shoes until someone moved Vernon or Mingyu ahead of him, and then he finally dared to look up.

In the mirror on the other side of the room, he found that he still looked the same as he always had.

—

“It must be nice,” Seungkwan says out of the blue, drawing Jeonghan’s attention from his tray of unappetizing airplane food, “to be so naturally thin.”

Jeonghan pokes his spoon at the soggy rice. “Seungkwannie, it’s only the cameras that make you worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m always on camera, aren’t I?” Seungkwan purses his lips and stabs his plastic fork into a slimy cube of chicken. “And unlike you, I have to worry about it.”

It’s possibly Jeonghan’s least favorite part of the job. He sees the members every day, he knows what they look like, and yet the cameras lie and a million people comment and then later the members pull up photos and complain about nonexistent flaws that need to be dieted or exercised or injected away.

“The cameras lie, you know,” Jeonghan sighs, taking his fruit cup and depositing it on Seungkwan’s tray. “It’s all a distortion.”

Seungkwan doesn’t seem convinced, but he eats the fruit.

When the flight attendant comes by, Jeonghan smiles as he hands her his tray, still heavy with soggy rice and uneaten chicken. The flight attendant blushes, and ducks away.

Jeonghan leans back. His empty body feels light, free.

—

An idol is nothing more than a hollow figure of gold or silver, or perhaps a rough image hewn from stone.

Jeonghan steps onto his pedestal and smiles for the camera. The set lights blind his vision. The shadows carve his body into shards.

—

“You look so good with long hair,” Seungcheol says into a hot microphone, twirling a strand of Jeonghan’s hair between his fingers.

Jeonghan pinches a clump between his pointer finger and thumb. When they write articles about him in the future, if they do at all, it will be about one of two things: he was maniacal on Going Seventeen, and he looked so pretty when they debuted.

He twists around to look at Seungcheol. “Grow your hair out with me,” he teases. “We’ll match.”

Seungcheol laughs. So Jeonghan laughs, too.

The camera crew moves away. Jeonghan deflates, and pushes Seungcheol’s hand away.

—

The truth is, no idol is ever good enough. If they were, what would be the point? The idol exists for the pursuit of perfection, but it always remains just out of reach.

—

On a team, every person must contribute something to the whole. Jihoon contributes songs, Soonyoung contributes choreography, and Jeonghan contributes nice cheekbones. The funny thing is, he doesn’t even have a corner on that.

His whole career, he supposes, has been defined by what he’s not. Jeonghan is not Vernon, charismatic and impressive, effortlessly handsome. He is not Mingyu, tall and earnest and ridiculous and statuesque. He is not Jun, lithe and ethereal, matching talent with a flat six-pack. He is not Joshua, with big doe eyes and a placid smile mean for music videos, once skinny but now muscular, carrying the weight of the team with ease. He is not, and he is not, and he is not, on and on down the line.

But then—what he is?

—

YOON JEONGHAN YOU ARE MY EVERYTHING
YOON JEONGHAN YOU ARE AN ANGEL
YOON JEONGHAN YOU SAVED ME
YOON JEONGHAN YOU—

Jeonghan forms a heart with his hands and points at a fan holding up a sign with his name on it, even though in the undulating crowd it is too blurry for him to see clearly.

A camera catches his movement. He turns, looks into its glass eye, and winks.

The screams of the crowd rattle his bones.

—

The truth is, you will never live up to the image of yourself.

Jeonghan surveys each photo of himself published in a magazine feature until he no longer remembers what he looks like in the mirror.

Who's the real you?

[poppyseedheart]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: introspection, also consider unreality/fractured selves/dreamscapes/dopplegangers
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Who’s the real you? The person who did something awful, or the one who’s horrified by the awful thing you did? Is one part of you allowed to forgive the other?

—Rebecca Stead, Goodbye Stranger

I relate to you who can’t relate

[icarusundone]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Junhui
Major Tags: Past Child Abuse, Murder
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Inception Fusion
Permission to remix: Please ask
Title from “Loveholic’s Hangover” by BIBI
Going for [1+1]

a/n: do you ever watch trust (2018) and promptly feel like you’ve been run over. this is to say that this fill is definitely partially inspired by trust (2018).

***

Junhui’s sitting at one of the tables in the courtyard of the engineering quad, the chair next to him empty. Despite there being no apparent breeze, his bottle blond hair is swaying in the wind, his feet swaying back and forth as he taps a pencil against his lips.

“Jeonghan,” he says, his eyes lighting up in delight when Jeonghan deigns to stop staring and finally join him, not even wincing at the screech of metal against brick as Jeonghan pulls the metal chair away from the table and sits down in it. “I was looking at the dream layout that your uncle sent us.” He says it casually, as if they’re discussing the weather and not the illegal part of Jeonghan’s uncle’s business where anyone can overhear them.

Jeonghan lifts an eyebrow but says nothing. They’re alone in the courtyard, the impending rain in the forecast driving the other students away. The sky is overcast and yet Junhui shines like the sun, his ambition too bright and burning to be contained within one body.

Junhui grins at him, boyishly charming, and leans in. Jeonghan, despite himself, feels his breath hitch at the intimacy, a side effect of conspirators sharing a secret. Junhui slides his notebook over, a perfect one-dimensional rendition of the first dream layout sketched out in pencil, and taps on part of it with his pencil eraser.

“We want to usher the crew into the second dream level around here,” Junhui says. “I was thinking that instead of having the kick be from these Penrose stairs ending, why not turn the stairs into Escher’s Waterfall? That way if the initial drop fails, then the water acts as a second kick.”

Jeonghan can’t help but be impressed with Junhui’s audacity to propose changes to the plan when their only role is to dream. “It’s our job to memorize the diagrams,” he says. “I would leave the logistics to my uncle.”

“Our job is to learn.” Junhui grins, sharklike. “And what better way to learn than this?”

It starts raining, and Junhui’s grin widens. Jeonghan can’t help but match his expression, feeling a little invincible himself, a little like swallowing the sun. Trust Junhui to treat a heist like an internship.

“Speak of the devil,” Jeonghan says as the first droplets of rain hit them. “It’s like you timed this.”

Later, they’ll be on a plane to South Korea where they’ll meet up with Jeonghan’s uncle, and they’ll call the whole trip a job interview when their classmates ask about their absence.

Junhui will wink at Jeonghan on the plane as Jeonghan pops some sleeping pills to knock himself out, and Jeonghan will grin back as he waits for sleep to take him.

𓊎

Years and many jobs later, Jeonghan kills his uncle. The escort holds the door open for him as she leaves, and he slips past the foyer and up the stairs and into his uncle’s unlocked bedroom despite an animal instinct screaming at him to leave, a phantom pain in his cheek aching again.

His uncle’s paranoia extends to his bedroom. There’s a handgun sitting on the nightstand next to his folded glasses. Jeonghan quietly slips his own handgun out from his back pocket as he makes his way to his uncle’s bedside. He lifts up a spare pillow and holds it above his uncle’s face. He stays there, poised, steeling himself like he used to when he was young, a napkin in hand and mosquito on the wall. He stares down at his uncle’s sleeping face, peaceful in a way he never is when he’s awake, no furrowed brow or sneering mouth.

Jeonghan muffles his uncle’s face with the pillow and contemplates strangulation for a brief moment before his uncle’s breath grows shallower and his hands reach up in a panic, and then decides to go with a simple bullet to the brain.

“First you won’t adopt me, and now you won’t name me your successor?” Jeonghan asks the mess of brain and blood. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t see this coming.” He barks out a laugh. “Come on, Uncle, it’s time you finally retired, don’t you think? You get to die drunk off your small successes while I’m not afraid to dream bigger.” Jeonghan turns to leave. “What are you going to say to your brother? Sorry, I let your child stay an orphan instead of adopt him. I couldn’t beat the softness out of him.” He laughs quietly. “That’s okay. My father would probably say the same.”

Jeonghan pockets the bottle of sleeping pills on his uncle’s nightstand before he leaves the room. For all that his uncle had refused to acknowledge him as kin, at least they had this inability to dream and this sedated sleep in common.

It’s time that the old generation retires, he thinks. The ones that learned dream sharing through government intel and military projects and adopted all the machismo that came along with it.

Before he leaves, Jeonghan stops by the chess game set up in the living room, which is now perpetually in progress. He scans over the pieces before carefully picking up the one remaining white rook on the board and moving it. Mate in three moves.

A light rain has started when he leaves the house.

𓊎

Jeonghan’s first totem is a white rook. It’s crafted to match his uncle’s chess set, but instead of ivory, it’s sculpted out of wood. Jeonghan patiently endured splinters and scrapes as he hollowed out the inside so that it weighs just enough for him to register that he’s carrying it, but no more.

He quietly fiddles with it when his uncle brings him into dreamscapes to teach him how to extract secrets, the chess piece now heavy in his pocket. As part of extractor training, Jeonghan’s mind has never been militarized. He’s taught to never bring his own projections into a dream. The first and last time his mother materializes in a dream, he nurses a swollen cheek for days.

But Jeonghan’s always been good at bending the rules.

𓊎

Sometime after Junhui’s departure, Jeonghan’s totem changes.

A quick flash of a crescent smile from the cafe patron sitting beside him, a familiar laugh as he strolls through a city park, an upward tilt of the lips and a shine in his eyes every time they pass each other on the Penrose stairs, Jeonghan eternally ascending and Junhui eternally descending. His white rook stays in his pocket, light and useless, kept out of habit.

Jeonghan had never called him Jun, unlike their classmates and professors. He had insisted on learning Junhui’s name, the exact curl of the syllables, so that he could pronounce it the same way that Junhui’s parents did.

They were twined together once, sharing each other’s dreamscapes with nothing but their totems to anchor them as they drowned in nostalgia, searching for a past that never existed.

There are some places that Jeonghan will only be able to visit in his dreams.

𓊎

Jeonghan doesn’t offer his mind for dreaming anymore, except to test out the dreamscapes that Wonwoo builds. Hopeless romantics are the best architects; they know how to hide their pining.

He laughs at the spiraling towers and boxy buildings outlining the courtyard. The dreamscape is so geometric and precise, a pastiche of Escher.

Jeonghan knows where he has to be for the kick, so he enters a building and walks up a flight of stairs, turning at the sharp angles, until he reaches a doorway that leads outside. At the top of the building is a pool of water that cascades down to the reflecting pool in the courtyard.

Someone’s waiting for him before the drop.

𓊎

Junhui always smiles in his dreams.

This Junhui grins at him, all boyish charm, his hair still bottle blond.

“Jeonghan,” he says warmly, and Jeonghan finds himself standing next to him and reaching out for his hand, slotting their fingers together.

“I was thinking,” Junhui says, “about our first job.”

Jeonghan can’t help but smile back, steeped in nostalgia. He remembers the weeks he had spent convincing his uncle to bring Junhui into the job, the excitement of introducing Junhui to the world of dream sharing, and his uncle’s gruff acknowledgment after the job that Jeonghan was right to acquaint him with Junhui.

He doesn’t think about the sourness after, the quiet jealousy that he had tried to tamp down as it became evident that his uncle favored Junhui over him. Despite his best efforts, Junhui had noticed. They had their last fight over this, Junhui exclaiming that he didn’t want this and would gladly give it up for Jeonghan.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Jeonghan had told him. “You’ve gotten everything that you wanted. You’re my uncle’s successor. Congratulations.”

Junhui looked at him, sorrow in his eyes. “I would choose you over all of this,” he said. “We could build our own dream sharing empire— we don’t have to work for your uncle.”

Jeonghan gritted his teeth. “Grow up,” he snapped. “We’re nothing without him. You might as well act smart about this and play your part and wait for the old man to die so that you inherit it all.”

“But then I lose you,” Junhui said, and he made everything sound so simple.

In that moment, Jeonghan hated him. “You’ve already lost me.”

Junhui was the devout one between the two of them, the one who honored promises. He left.

He left Jeonghan to the whims of his uncle, left him to endure jabs of how Junhui was a more forward thinker and could envision better plans than anything that Jeonghan had concocted. But between the two of them, Jeonghan was the better liar, and so he had simpered and waited and bided his time.

Now, his uncle’s kingdom is all Jeonghan’s, his dream sharing empire that he once thought would be shared.

“Why?” Jeonghan asks. “Surely there’s better things to think about.”

Junhui shrugs, his smile now rueful. “It was nice,” he says. “You can’t tell me that you don’t miss the simpler times? The hours that we spent hooked up to the PASIV?”

“I don’t miss the tiny dorm rooms or the ever-present smell of weed.”

Junhui curls their hands tighter together. “You don’t miss feeling on top of the world?”

“Why would I miss that,” Jeonghan says, “when I have that right now?”

Junhui looks at him placidly. “But your uncle—” he starts.

“Dead,” Jeonghan says flatly. “Everything the light touches is mine now, or however the saying goes.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m only sorry that your leaving finally spurred me into action,” Jeonghan says, “but that’s what dreams are for, aren’t they?”

Junhui laughs and brings his free hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind Jeonghan’s ear. “You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”

Jeonghan looks at him. “Really? I could have my dream sharing empire and you too?”

Junhui’s lips curl up, his smile now smug. “Why not? It’s one plus one.”

Jeonghan shakes his head. Even his dreams have limits. “That wouldn’t work,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to be me with me if you knew.” There’s a secret forming on his tongue, crystallizing into something tangible.

“I think you give me too little credit.”

“I do?” Jeonghan asks. “So when I tell you that I killed my uncle, you simply nod and accept me with open arms, and we go back to playacting domesticity?”

In response, Junhui leans in, his eyes bright, and kisses Jeonghan. The first time they had kissed, Junhui had been eating instant hotpot, and Jeonghan had complained about how his lips now felt numb. Junhui had simply rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

In his dreams when they kiss, Junhui tastes like their first kiss, a choice that Jeonghan’s subconscious had made and that he chose not to change.

Jeonghan abruptly turns his head, Junhui’s lips brushing against his cheek. There’s no residual numbness on his lips and yet his mind is numb as dread pools in his stomach. There’s a familiar weight in his coat pocket.

“Who are you,” he demands.

Junhui always smiles in his dreams.

Junhui is now frowning, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry,” Junhui says, his voice the same devastated tone as when he had last said those words, a tone that Jeonghan had never bestowed upon his projection. He unlatches their hands and Jeonghan falters, already so close to the building’s edge.

Junhui pushes him off the building.

Jeonghan can’t tell if the fall or the water revives him, but he gasps awake in his bus seat, the whisper of a touch on his wrist where there’s faint bruising from a pulled IV line.

Disoriented, he turns in time to see a familiar silhouette exit the bus before the doors close.

[poppyseedheart]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: second chance / reunion (doesn't have to end nicely!) - can also be another shot at a dream, a familial relationship, a career, etc
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Walking home, for a moment
you almost believe you could start again.
And an intense love rushes to your heart,
and hope. It's unendurable, unendurable.

—Franz Wright, from “East Boston, 1996; Night Walk,” in God’s Silence

[FILL]hopeful or hopeless

[bamboozled]

Ship/Member:former josh/seungcheol
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: exes, running into the person who fucked you up on the street, joshua as the one with hope, but seungcheol pov, depression, disassociation
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Seungcheol sees him everywhere.

Literally and figuratively. Joshua’s — Jisoo’s — Joshua’s face is on billboards, buses, benches, magazines. Skincare, makeup, whatever. He’s everywhere. Inescapable.

Seungcheol’s brain turns every masked stranger’s face into his. Eyes morph wider, kinder, sweeter than Seungcheol ever actually saw them. Twinkling with mirth that he’s not sure was ever real. He sees Joshua everywhere, and he doesn’t.

He runs into something solid. Someone. He drops his phone, bends down to pick it up.

“Oh,” a voice says, and fear splits down Seongcheol’s spine like lightning hitting a tree. “Coups. Seungcheol. Hi. I didn’t expect — hi.”

Seungcheol looks up at Joshua’s face and blinks, blinks again. Joshua is smiling politely. It doesn’t reach his eyes. Seungcheol knows it well. Joshua started smiling at him like that halfway through their relationship and Seungcheol hadn’t done anything about it. He hadn’t done anything about the end, either.

Joshua told him he got signed as a model to an agency and that he’d be traveling frequently, too frequently to really maintain a relationship. There wasn’t a big fight, or misunderstanding. No violence. No yelling. Joshua said they should probably break up and Seungcheol agreed. He wasn’t blind; Joshua had been looking for a way out for months. This was convenient. Neat. Almost an afterthought.

Seungcheol wonders, cruelly, if Joshua had ticked it off a list before bed that night. Break up with hyung. Check! Done! Maybe he’d even had a little candy as a treat.

“I live here,” Seungcheol says. “I’ve always lived here.”

“Right, of course, I know that,” Joshua answers, laughing. It’s joyless. Has it always sounded that way? “It’s just crazy! How have you been?”

How has he been? How can he answer that? Does he remember a single thing from the past six months? He goes to work, he exercises, he sometimes sees his friends. Is that what Joshua means? It feels a little like he’s been walking in a fog and has just woken up. There’s something to resent Joshua for, too. Seungcheol straightens, pockets his phone.

“It was nice to see you,” he says mechanically. “I have to go.”

He shoulders past, head down, hands in his pockets. Maybe the fog will come back soon and he won’t have to think about Joshua’s face anymore, or his tone. Like he’d been happy to see Seungcheol. Like it had been a funny coincidence.

Yeah, Seungcheol would rather not think at all.

it could only be a haunting

[cruelsummers]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: grief flavored love, character death, HAUNTED HOUSES...
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Ghosts are guilt, ghosts are secrets, ghosts are regrets and failings. But most times, most times a ghost is a wish.

-Steven Crain from The Haunting of Hill House

[FILL] a ghost is a wish

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Hoshi-centric
Major Tags: implied Major Character Death
Additional Tags: drunk!hoshi
Permission to remix: Yes

***

The legend goes something like this: hundreds of years ago, when tigers still roamed the mountains of Choson, a young man went out hunting and was killed by the very tiger he intended to slay. Death, however, was only the beginning. Cursed to an existence of slavery, the dead man’s ghost was forced to stay on earth instead of passing on; it wandered the land in search of an unsuspecting traveler, luring them to its side with the promise of a story worth their while.

What the traveler could not possibly know was that the ghost was working under the orders of its new master the tiger. It would tell the traveler enough of its tale to sufficiently distract them, but hearing the tale’s end would never be in their future: the story was but a cover to let the ghost discreetly call for the tiger and present to the beast its meal.

Only if it succeeded in its task of feeding the traveler to its master would the ghost be allowed to switch fates with its victim: the traveler, upon death, would become the next ghost to do the tiger’s bidding, and the dead young man would be free to move on to the afterlife and find peace at last.

“Bullshit,” Soonyoung slurs, slamming his glass down on the table. The sound startles Seokmin beside him; Soonyoung feels him jump in his seat. “Why does that bastard get peace?”

Across the table, Wonwoo frowns. “What, you want him to suffer as a ghost forever?” he asks. “That’s fucked up.”

“But he… he deserves it,” Soonyoung responds slowly. “He tried to kill a tiger!”

A beat passes. A grin grows on Wonwoo’s face. “Oh, is that why you’re offended? Because it was a tiger?”

“Tigers are…” There’s a word Soonyoung can’t remember. What’s the word he’s looking for? He searches the bar for an answer, and one of the lamps on the opposite wall catches his eye. It’s not what he was looking for, but it’ll do. He points. “They’re like that light!”

Now both Wonwoo and Seokmin are openly snickering. Jihoon, ever sober, raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re drunk,” he says matter-of-factly. “Already?”

None of them get it. “None of you get it,” he says. “He tried to fight the light. The light! You can’t just do that! Not without con– cons–” Gyeolgwa, he wants to say, but shaping the word has suddenly become impossible. “Anyway, you can’t do that.”

“It’s just a story, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says, and the conversation unravels, turning to other topics. Soonyoung tries at first to follow the thread, but the story still hangs heavy on his mind, so he lets himself follow that instead. If he ever went looking for a tiger, it would never be to hunt it. He would befriend it. He could do that. He has a tiger-print matching two-piece back home; he could wear it to visit the tiger. It would probably like that, right?

“Right?” he says out loud, turning to Seokmin on his left.

Seokmin just looks at him. Then he pokes Soonyoung’s cheek and pushes it so that he’s facing forward again. “Sure,” Seokmin says, drawing out the syllables, and pats Soonyoung affably on the back of his neck. “Whatever you say.”

Soonyoung reaches for his glass again, refills it, drinks. What if, all along, the tiger was just lonely? Why else would such a mighty creature curse the man to stay by its side, when finding prey couldn’t possibly have been difficult for it on its own? Maybe it wanted someone to talk to. Maybe everyone around it was too busy eating makchang and discussing future plans, analyzing their last concert and considering improvements for the next one, when all it wanted was for someone to listen to what it had to say.

He decides to befriend the tiger.

A couple of taps to Seokmin’s shoulder and he’s moving his legs, making way for Soonyoung to maneuver his own chair away from the table and step out. Someone from the other table—Jeonghan, maybe—calls out to him: “Where you going?” Then, when he gets no response: “Where’s he going?”

“Probably to take a piss,” someone else says, and then Soonyoung reaches the door and pushes his way through it.

The evening’s cool air assaults him, rendering him temporarily disoriented. Why’s he outside in the cold, when everyone else is still laughing in the warmth indoors? Somebody mentioned taking a piss. Was that him?

And then he remembers the word. “Divine,” he says out loud, elated. In the moment, he doesn’t even mind that he’s remembered it too late to make a difference. “Divine!”

He subsides and looks around him. The group is in Daegu, there to film an episode for Going Seventeen. Naturally, Seungcheol’s elated, and has been dragging as many of the members as he can round up to his favorite spots in the city whenever they’re free. If Soonyoung recalls correctly, Seungcheol mentioned a hiking trail on Mount Palgong, complete with trees and greenery and apples ready for the picking. Do tigers eat apples? He doesn’t know, but it’s the only place he can think of to look.

Soonyoung starts walking.

Minutes hours seconds later, he finds himself in the middle of a forest. Tall shadows loom above him on either side of the trail, the trees near-invisible in the darkness. How did he get here? He vaguely recalls a bus ride and a talkative passenger seated behind him, but he can’t be sure if the memory is a recent one. Soonyoung supposes it doesn’t matter; he’s here now, and he has some searching to do.

A short distance into his walk a thought occurs to him. He’s here in the name of friendship, but what if the tiger doesn’t want to befriend him? What if it deems him unworthy as a companion? It’s unlikely that will ever happen, but if it does, will the tiger kill him like it did all the others, except this time not keep him around?

Perhaps dying to a tiger’s bite isn’t the worst way to go.

The idea has only just crossed Soonyoung’s mind when he hears a voice, someone calling out to him from his right, from the other side of the railing: “Hey! Traveler!”

No matter how hard he squints, he can’t clearly make out the person standing there. Half-hidden in the undergrowth but beckoning him closer, the figure looks otherworldly, spectral. He wonders how they got over the fence separating the two, because the ground drops steeply beyond it; the jump can’t possibly be an easy one. As if able to hear his thoughts, the figure gestures to a part of the fence covered by leaves and says, “There’s a break you can walk through right there.”

Going over to it and pushing the leaves aside, Soonyoung realizes the figure was right. He looks up at them waiting for him. “Who are you?” Soonyoung asks.

The figure hums in thought before answering. “A stranger to you now,” it says at last, “but we don’t have to remain so for long.” And then the words he’s been waiting to hear ever since he learned of the myth: “Would you like to hear my story?”

Soonyoung smiles.

***

[based on the changgwi myth from korean ghostlore!]

[cruelsummers]

Ship/Member: Any but consider Mingyu or Seokmin...
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: forbidden love, maybe demigods/gods?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

"I felt like a seed in a pomegranate. Some say that the pomegranate was the real apple of Eve, fruit of the womb, I would eat my way into perdition to taste you."

-Jeanette Winterson

in step with us

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Any, but consider Lee Chan
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

This music will not sit in straight lines.
The notes refuse to perch on wires

but move in rhythm with the dancer
round the face of the clock,
through the dandelion head of time . . .

There must be
other feet in step with us, an underbeat,
a voice that keeps count, not yours or mine.

The music is playing us.
We are playing with time.

—Imtiaz Dharker, Taal

what if everyone read the sword of kaigen. just for fun

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Seokmin OR Any
Major Tags: MCD optional (i know the context but you don't have to go there)
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

. . . [He was] a boy with enough talent to never have to try hard at anything, who had tried harder than everyone at everything, until the very end.

—ML Wang, The Sword of Kaigen

we had our time

[svteen]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, post-disbandment
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

We're changing with the seasons, always changing
So how in the world did we think
That we'd stay the same . . .

And now we go our separate lives
And breaking the ice is getting harder

—Fivefold, Hold On

owe the world your open heart

[latespring]

Ship/Member: this is so much seokhao to me, but any devotions, honestly
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: long term devotion, (take it or leave it: marriage)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

It will never be enough, the bull kelp like a whip coiling in tender hands,
hands who know to take or be taken, but take nothing with them: I will marry you.
I will marry you. So we can owe what we own to every beautiful thing.

- Diana Khoi Nguyen; "Vow"

[FILL] building (sand)castles

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: seokmin/minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: devotion is a weapon in the hands of those that love deeply, spontaneous beach days, proposals, seokhaoist writes seokhao and finds that they are truly never too far from reach :’)
Permission to remix: yes!
wc: 614
***

They’re at the beach. Minghao’s toes are digging into the sand. The grains get disrupted each time he makes any sort of movement. A tiny riot, a miniature avalanche.

This morning, Seokmin had bundled Minghao up and out the door of their apartment. “I promise it’ll be fun,” he’d kissed Minghao on the forehead and smoothed down the frown lines that had appeared on Minghao’s face, before buckling him into the passenger seat. Not a word about where they’d go.

Minghao let Seokmin take them anyways.

And now they’re at the beach. The last dregs of winter remain, rendering the air sharp and cold, but the sun is determined today. Rays of light sweep across the horizon, cradling Minghao and Seokmin with a kindness that softens the world around them.

“I wasn’t even sure if it’d be nice,” Seokmin confesses, one hand shielding his face as he gazes up at the sky. “You can never tell with the sea.”

Seokmin turns to Minghao, who is already looking at him, never too far away, valiantly fighting a smile from spreading across his face. Minghao loses.

“We have the weather app, you know,” Minghao reminds Seokmin, who wrinkles his nose. Waves him off, like this is a ridiculous notion, when in fact it is probably what everybody does before they spontaneously go to the ocean.

But then Minghao remembers Seokmin is not like everyone else. He never stops getting reminded, actually.

Minghao can physically feel himself relax, all the tension holding him up the past couple of days dissipating into the thick salty ocean air.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“I’m going to marry you one day.” Seokmin says in response. Like discussing the weather is a natural segue to the rest of your life. Lunatic. Minghao opens his eyes, startled.

Seokmin has an effortless grin on his face, the one that steals Minghao’s breath away every time he sees it.

You can’t just say things like that, Minghao wants to complain. He already knows what will happen in return: Seokmin’s widening grin, the curve of his eyes and the way they cut into his cheeks, his heart out on a platter.

Why not?

The ocean roars in the background. Waves crash onto the shore, throwing themselves at Minghao and Seokmin’s feet, in mesmerizing rhythm. Push and pull, ebbs and flows. The natural order of things.

They huddle close together for warmth, Seokmin’s chin resting on Minghao’s shoulder, nose nuzzling into the crook of Minghao’s neck. “Shut it,” Minghao says instead. But he doesn’t shove Seokmin off. So there they stay.





“What did I tell you?” Seokmin whispers from where he’s bent down on one knee. His smile is sparkling. Seokmin is getting his pants terribly dirty, and Minghao will have to be the one who attacks it with bleach to make sure it’s blemish-free, because Seokmin doesn’t care about those things, because he has a Minghao who will care about those things on his behalf.

“I haven’t even said yes yet,” Minghao half splutters, half sobs. Embarrassing that he’d be the one to cry, in the end.

“Myungho-yah,” Seokmin reminds him, voice thick with tears and fondness and still, even now, light, teasing. Hope shines clearly on his face, a beacon for Minghao to always make his way back to in the dark.

“What’s it gonna be?”

Minghao glares for a split second. As if there would be any other answer.

He throws his entire body, heart and soul, at Seokmin, bowling them both over. Their laughter escapes on the ocean breeze.

When Seokmin finally slides the ring on it feels like some part of Minghao anchors itself to the ground.

It feels like coming home.

[jwinki]

Ship/Member: this could do well for a joshy or vernon ship but please do not give me josh/vernon thank u
Major Tags: suggesting canon-compliant/idol-verse for maximum impact but do ur thing
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: mcd, cheating

Prompt:

“Everything is fake. Everything in the world is fake. But I like you. And that is not fake.”

— Young Royals, S1

[jwinki]

Ship/Member: wonwoo-centric..... let his cancerean imagination run wild
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

“Dreaming about something all your life doesn't mean it's yours.”

― Kelly Loy Gilbert, Picture Us in the Light

[FILL] across lifetimes

[soupblog]

Ship/Member: wonwoo-centric but soonwoo
Major Tags: mcd(sort of)
Additional Tags: soulmate!au, freeform, multiple lives, reincarnation, i saw you in a dream
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Wonwoo dreams a lot, and he dreams about a lot of things; beaches and forests and large cities and small towns, he dreams about being a farmer or a writer or a thief. But his favorite dreams are the ones where Soonyoung is there. Soonyoung, and his soft hands, and his kind smile, and his warm body against Wonwoo’s cold one– Soonyoung, with his palms stretched out towards him, saying ‘you found me’ and ‘I missed you’.

Yes, those are his favorite dreams. The ones where he gets to hold Soonyoung, and he gets to love him, because now– here, in this life, he doesn’t. Wonwoo isn’t even sure Soonyoung exists.

He thinks he might’ve been reborn in the wrong world, or in the wrong body– he doesn’t think he belongs somewhere where Soonyoung isn’t. But it’s not like he hasn’t tried it before.

Wonwoo’s been a farmer and a writer and a thief, and at some point he stopped trying to figure out if it matters– sometimes Soonyoung is there, and sometimes he isn’t. Sometimes Soonyoung is there and he doesn’t love Wonwoo back, and that’s okay too. Seeing him is enough.

But Wonwoo prefers the ones where Soonyoung loves him. He prefers it like this; he and Soonyoung grow up together, they’re friends, and then they’re lovers, and they spend the rest of their days intertwined until one of them has to leave again, disappear into the sky and float around, all their atoms, until they’re pushed and molded back into a new body.

He prefers it when Soonyoung dies first. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving Soonyoung alone to mourn him– Wonwoo is used to that part by now. He’s sat at Soonyoung’s grave a hundred times.

Soonyoung has been blonde and ginger and dark haired, and always, Wonwoo has loved him.

And always, in every life, Wonwoo dreams about Soonyoung– that’s how he remembers. Every life they’ve lived together comes back to him in dreams; he writes them down, puts them into art and music and stories and hopes that if Soonyoung’s out there somewhere, out of reach, he’ll see it and remember.

He’s never sure if Soonyoung’s going to remember. Sometimes he does, and sometimes he doesn’t– Wonwoo doesn’t mind either way. The best part about Soonyoung is that he’s Soonyoung, in every life, and whether he remembers Wonwoo or not isn’t important.

In the lifetimes where Wonwoo finds Soonyoung, he can’t help but wonder if this will be the last one; is he going to see Soonyoung again? How long will it be? How many lifetimes does he have to wait before he gets to hold him again?

There’s never an answer. The universe doesn’t answer.

Or, Wonwoo supposes, the answer is this– it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how many lifetimes it takes, Wonwoo is never going to stop looking; he’s always going to dream about Soonyoung and wonder; where are you? Are you happy?

He hopes Soonyoung is happy. He hopes Soonyoung dreams about parties and amusement parks and tigers who can talk.

Wonwoo will keep dreaming about Soonyoung; and he’ll wait for a life where he doesn’t have to dream him up, where Soonyoung is tangible and within reach again.

(twt @/gyuhansoup or @/moonbreezeao3)