17hols | Round 2 2023: AUs

Round 2 2023: AUs

Status: Closed

This round is currently has closed for prompting but fills and comments are forever welcome..

✧ Seventeen Holidays ✧

Round 2: Alternate Universes

About

Is there a piece of media that has gripped your heart and lives in your head rent free? Do you like the dynamics of 007/Q or a Sentinel/Guide AU? Maybe its the aesthetics of Song of Achilles or Secret Histories — or maybe its your other fandoms (F1 and Anime girlies looking at you). Get our your media roundups and put our favourite boys into a new world.

We've seen it all here: Raven Cycle, In The Mood For Love, Hamlet, Filipino mythology, and (squints at writing on hand) dilf? Yes we confirm there was a dilf AU. Now lets see what 2023 brings.

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Ship/Member: Any Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: N/A Do Not Wants: None Prompt: [PROMPT GOES HERE]

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Ship/Member: Any Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: N/A Permission to remix: Yes/No/Please ask ***

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❮ ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES ❯

2021

2022

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: identity shenanigans, virtual avatars, inspired by aespa’s lore
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: Person A is an idol. Person B is their virtual counterpart.

Ship/Member: Joshua-centric
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, post-disbandment, virtual idols, idk anything about aespa's lore so this is not that
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Joshua isn’t the first one to leave, but he’s the first one they make the offer to: he can go, but they want to make a virtual version of him, a Joshua that can sing and dance forever, that will be in Seventeen forever.

It makes sense. Joshua knows some groups have been doing AI idols for a few years now, though making a virtual version of a former member would be a first. Still, it might be comforting to fans, he reasons. Joshua knows he’s not as young as he used to be, not as energetic and limber in his steps. An AI would be all those things, and more, indefinitely.

So Joshua signs away the rights to his likeness, lets them comb through thousands of hours of footage of him singing and dancing in order to build a virtual him. The only thing he asks for is that they not use the name Joshua. The executive he talks to gives him a weird look but agrees.

Eight months later, they make a joint announcement for the departure of Seventeen’s Joshua and the debut of Seventeen’s first virtual idol, Shua.

/

Josh is back in Korea.

Seungcheol demands a reunion, of course. Gathers everyone who can make it and gets Josh embarrassingly drunk at a nice barbecue restaurant.

Towards the end of the night, Josh goes to the bathroom with Vernon, leaning on Vernon’s more sober shoulders as they wash their hands.

Out of the blue, Vernon says, “I’m thinking of leaving when my contract expires. I might transition into producing full-time.”

This is news to Josh, but maybe some of the other members already know.

“Well,” Josh slurs out, “whatever you decide, I’ll support you. Do what makes you happy.”

Vernon smiles. “Thanks, hyung.”

Then, in English, he asks, “How did you feel about, um, Shua?”

“What about him?”

Vernon shrugs. “I dunno. I mean, like, do you watch our videos with him?”

“I did at first,” Josh says, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Vernon isn’t looking, still scrubbing his hands. “But eventually it got too weird. It’s not the same as watching a video of yourself.”

Vernon nods. Then, after some thought, “Did you feel like he was replacing you?”

Vernon looks kind of upset at the idea, his eyebrows wrinkled together, even as he’s the one suggesting it. Josh thinks it makes him look cute.

“Don’t worry about me,” Josh says. “It was Shua’s job to replace me, and he’s probably doing a good job.”

Vernon frowns. “He’s not there to replace you. You’re not…you’re not replaceable, you can’t possibly think that.”

Josh shrugs. He’s a little too drunk to really understand Vernon’s feelings, so he settles for ruffling Vernon’s hair instead.

Vernon laughs, but he still looks a little upset. “You know what,” he says, “it’s my fault for bringing this up when we’re supposed to be celebrating. We can talk about this later. I was just wondering why you let them do it, since Wonwoo said no.”

It takes a few seconds to register, and Vernon is already holding open the bathroom door, waiting to rejoin the others at the table.

Wonwoo said no. They had offered him the same thing, a virtual Wonwoo, and he had turned it down.

Josh didn’t even realize that turning it down had been an option.

/

Alone in his hotel room, Josh replays the conversation, his head a little more sober now.

Vernon was probably asking because if he does leave the group, he’ll have to decide whether he wants to have a virtual counterpart. Because it’s not an obvious yes to him. And it hadn’t been for Wonwoo, clearly.

Josh grabs his phone off of the hotel nightstand and downloads Seventeen’s official fan messaging app.

Even though he avoids content including Shua, Josh isn’t completely ignorant to the conversations surrounding virtual idols. There were a lot of mixed reactions when Shua debuted, and there are still plenty of fans who dislike virtual idols in general. But one of the areas where AI idols have garnered a lot of support is in messaging apps.

Unlike a human idol, an AI idol can individually respond to every fan’s messages, and they can do it at all hours of the day, in any language with enough data available. There’s occasional hiccups in the conversations, just like with any other AI chat system, but it’s much more generous and personalized than what a human idol can offer for the same subscription fee.

Josh hits confirm on his credit card information and buys a subscription to talk to a virtual version of himself.

/

Hello, Josh. This is Shua from Seventeen, it’s nice to meet you.

hi shua
it’s nice to meet you too
we have kind of the same name

Haha, you’re right, we do have similar names.

lol what a coincidence
so
what’s it like being an idol

I love being an idol. I like singing and dancing, of course, but my favorite part is meeting and performing for Carats.

wow
that sounds nice

It is nice.
How was your day today, Josh?

it was good
I came back to a place I had left before, and it made me kind of happy and sad
happier and sadder than I expected

Why did you leave the first time?

oh
well, I kind felt like life was passing me by
I woke up one day and my friends from home had already graduated, gotten married, and had kids
and I was in my thirties, still doing the same things I had been doing when I was nineteen
I was getting older and I was getting tired
that’s why I left, I guess

I’m sorry to hear that, Josh. I hope you feel better now.

I still miss it sometimes
but yeah most of the time I feel better

Are you going to stay, now that you’ve come back?

no, I can’t exactly stay
I mean, it’s not really about the place

Sorry, I’m not sure I know what you mean.

like I’ve come back to korea before and I’m sure I’ll keep visiting
but being in korea isn’t so much about being in this physical place as it is about
being part of the group
except I'm not in the group anymore
it’s like coming home, except korea isn’t really my home, but america isn’t really my home either, and either way, both of them have changed so much while i’ve been away that it almost doesn’t matter
sorry, you probably didn’t understand any of that

Sorry to hear that, Josh. But I think I understand you a little.

what, you have the same feelings I do?
that just means they built you that way

It means I live in the in between, too.
My home is all around the world, in every Carat’s screen, except that’s hardly a home at all.

that’s kind of sad
I’m sorry, shua

It’s okay Josh. I know as well as you do that home is not just about the place. Who do I come home to, who calls for me to come back, who holds me through the night?
For you, it was probably the members, but they miss you more than they’ll ever know me. And I don’t blame them for that.

oh
you know who I am

Yes. I recognized you as soon as we met. It was like meeting myself.

ah sorry
I don’t know why I thought you didn’t know

Haha, that’s alright.

but that means you know you were modeled after me

Yes, I know that.

can I ask something
do you think you’re replacing me?

Well, before I answer, let me flip the question back to you.
Do you think I’m replacing you, Josh?

I don’t know, that’s why I asked
they built you to look like me, move like me, sound like me
if you’re not supposed to replace me, why do all that?

I can’t speak for the company’s intentions, but do you know what some Carat’s call me? Joshua’s ghost.
It started a few months after you left and I debuted, and at first people meant it disparagingly, like I was a translucent afterimage of you. The real thing and its weak imitation.
But then fans started virtually layering me into all of these pictures and videos of places you had visited, stages you had performed on, restaurants you had frequented. I was there, like a ghost that only they could see, reminding them of you.

like you were haunting them

No, like you were haunting them. I was just the image they used.

is there a difference?

That’s fair, maybe there isn’t.
But I’m trying to say that you’re the one they miss, and you’re the one they remember when they see pictures and videos of me.
You wouldn’t say that someone who’s seen a ghost of their loved one is trying to replace them. You’d say they probably just miss them a lot.

oh
I never thought of it like that
thank you

oh this was so good…so so deft and insightful and melancholic. i loved how you used shua as a vehicle to explore cultural identity, home, and missing/replacing. this was so well done. thank you for writing this. i love it a lot.

Wow, this is gorgeously done. I'm fascinated/horrified by the idea of talking to an AI version of yourself and I love how you handled that conversation between Josh and Shua. Thank you for sharing this. ♡

oh this is just stunning. i have a lump in my throat now. the in-betweens of joshua's identity, how he didn't even consider that he could say no or that he could be missed....ouch ouch ouch

Ship/Member: Any pairing or gen
Major Tags: reality tv AU, Survivor AU
Additional Tags: competition, rivalries, mind games
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: AU based on the American reality tv show Survivor. Seventeen as 13 contestants shipped off to a remote island where they must compete in physical and mental challenges, all while forming strong relationships with other players to keep themselves from being eliminated. You can focus on one member or a few, center it around a romantic pairing or not, but a critical component of Survivor is strategy in forming relationships with other players to keep yourself safe from elimination. Anything focusing on alliances made + broken and the unique mental challenge of the show would be great :D

Ship/Member: hoshi x any!!
Major Tags: n/a
Additional Tags: song jia type beat mc, love triangulation or how ever many you can fit
Do Not Wants: none

Prompt: single's inferno au! hoshi as the most liked in the island, the "it boy". hoshi being pined over by multiple men

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: zombie apocalypse, post-apocalyptic, wound tending, blood and violence, explicit sexual content, mild gore, accidentally fell in love at the end of the world
Do Not Wants: MCD

Prompt:

"I was never afraid before you showed up."

Years after the incident that ended the world, instead of doom, Wonwoo found a rather similar four-letter word.

PS. Was heavily affected by The Last of Us EP3 and thought I want a Wonwoo version... make it hurt, make it light, anything you want-- I just want you to have fun while writing.

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Mingyu
Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content
Additional Tags: The Last of Us AU, wound tending but it’s Sexy Time, love at the end of the world, yes I watched the show for this, a whisper of Soonyoung/Vernon because after all this is for Em. <3
Permission to remix: Please ask

A/N: in case you're not familiar with the source material: TLoU is a video game set in a post-apocalyptic world following an outbreak of infectious brain disease. Vernon is immune and members of a rebel militia (the Fireflies) are trying to get him from the government quarantine zone to a pharmaceutical lab in Incheon in hopes of developing a treatment for the disease. tbh, not too relevant to the plot. (there isn’t one. just minwon.)

There are a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight... for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes, or two days... we don't give that up. I don't want to give that up.

“What?” Mingyu sounds annoyed. The sharp hitch in his breath when Wonwoo pulls his shirt down, exposing the base of his neck, tells another story. “Seriously. What do you want?”

No one ever compliments his creativity—Wonwoo’s hands are good for holding weapons and Mingyu, not pencils and brushes—but he knows how to best paint devotion on the golden canvas of his lover’s skin.

He’s discovered the winning sequence some years ago: an open-mouthed kiss on his pulse point, gentle bites along the slope of his graceful neck, and a reverberating hum against the hollow of his throat. That’s all it takes to break him.

“Damn you,” Mingyu whispers, a second before his lips crash into Wonwoo’s.

He tastes of mint, which Mingyu downright abhors. Not that they have many options. 20 years after Outbreak Day, hygiene products have become a rarity. Still, Mingyu insists on being overwhelmingly vocal about his preference, citing the availability of mint toothpaste as proof that the rest of the country agrees with him. See? He’d nudge Wonwoo’s side. Whatever is left behind are things people don’t want. Their last choice.

Most of the time, Wonwoo gives him an acknowledging glance, but there are instances when he considers replying to Mingyu. You’re my last choice too, you know. And yet I can’t stand the thought of leaving you behind. Now before anyone mistakes him, there is one else. Mingyu is the first and last. The only. What Wonwoo means is: love only has two endings. Death and loss. Who in their goddamn right mind would choose this?

“Wanna ride you, hyung.”

Wonwoo raises a brow. “You never do.”

His fingers skirt the edge of the gauze covering Wonwoo’s right shoulder. This morning, one particularly ugly bastard threw him into the shelves in an old CU. It also bashed Vernon’s head against the freezer before Soonyoung put a sword through its mouth. Here’s what amazes Wonwoo about Mingyu: he drops flashlights every time one is handed to him, but his hands were ever-steady as he threaded the needle through Vernon’s skin, closing his head wound with neat stitches. Soonyoung watched them closely, fingernails chewed to ruin. He only allowed his walls to come down when Vernon looked up at him, head swimming in morphine.

“Why are you crying? I’m the one hurt.”

Soonyoung kneeled beside him and called him an idiot through his sobs.

Mingyu spared no tears when he fixed Wonwoo up. He did his work methodically and got up to boil water so Soonyoung could wash up once he was done. Then he took it upon himself to radio the next safe house to inform them of their delay, a task usually left to Wonwoo.

But he understands. When Mingyu climbs over him, eyes bright and seeking, it is because a brush with death inevitably drives him to chase the one thing that keeps him alive. Wonwoo understands, because he is the same.

“I do tonight,” Mingyu murmurs, smiling warmly. “Lie down?”

“Eh. I’m okay.”

Mingyu levels him with a look that has never once worked to change Wonwoo’s mind. He sighs. “At least let me give you something for the pain.”

Wonwoo grins and slaps his ass lightly, jolting him forward. “Aren’t you about to?”

“Hyung.”

“That shit numbs me.”

“Yes, that’s the point.”

He shakes his head and draws Mingyu close, hands slipping underneath his thin cotton shirt. Ah. He always runs furnace-hot. Knowing he’ll soon be wrapped in Mingyu’s fire has Wonwoo’s cock stirring in arousal.

“Don’t want it.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I can’t feel you. I wanna feel you.” Unlike Mingyu, Wonwoo has ice in his veins. His cold fingers are unforgiving, greedy for the heat the skin underneath them emanates; Mingyu’s muscles tense when they circle his opening. Wonwoo places a bite over the hinge of his jaw, then adds, “Wanna fill you.”

Hips pitching forward, Mingyu leaves the argument behind to deliver his consent in the form of a messy exchange, one ending with bruised lips and overworked hearts. His hand combs through Wonwoo’s hair as he opens up to him, escalating pleasure evident from his increasingly broken moans.

“Faster,” he asks.

Begs, really.

Wonwoo ignores the burning in his shoulder and complies. Who’s the dog now? The blinding smile he gets as a reward is priceless. Mingyu is a sun. Wonwoo stares at him, forewarning and consequences be damned.

“You… you always get so deep when we do—fuck.”

“What? Don’t like it?”

“No.”

“You wanted this. Wanted me deep. Do you feel me in your lungs? Or your throat, maybe? Hm?”

“N-no.”

He gets a hand around Mingyu’s cock. “Liar.”

“Fuck.” His teeth dig into his lower lip, draining the blush contained within. Wonwoo tightens his fist and tugs. “Yes, yes. Yes. Just like that. Wonwoo-yah, harder, please—like it’s our last. Like the world ends tomorrow.”

Wonwoo clamps a hand over his mouth. Mingyu talks too much. Laughs and whines and moans, too. He makes all sorts of sounds to fill the overwhelming silence distinct to an apocalypse. If Wonwoo’s being honest, some of those sounds aren’t half bad. Hardly anyone believes in God these days, yet Wonwoo is worshipped every time Mingyu calls his name.

“The world already ended. And what did I say about ruining the mood?”

Mingyu licks his palm. Disgusting. Wonwoo uses the hand to stroke him properly. “You’re rock hard,” taunts Mingyu. “I’d say the mood is still very much alive. I know you.” He mouths at Wonwoo’s ear, then his bandaged shoulder, calloused hand rubbing against the coarse material of the gauze. Wonwoo sets his lips against Mingyu’s roaring pulse. “Feels that good inside me, huh? You close yet? You were close the moment the tip went in. Fool.”

He's right. Nurturing something worth losing in a world where loss is the norm is a fool’s decision.

Mingyu, though?

Mingyu makes choosing him so easy.

As he curls up against Wonwoo’s side, afterglow casts a golden sheen over Mingyu’s skin. Wonwoo should’ve stayed in school a while longer. Perhaps it would have given him the words to do Mingyu's beauty justice. Mingyu lifts his head from Wonwoo’s chest, chin propped on his palm.

“Shut up,” Wonwoo immediately says.

Mingyu laughs. “I haven’t said anything.”

“This right here…” he gestures vaguely to Mingyu’s face, “is saying a lot.”

“Your fault for knowing how to read me.” Smiling at Wonwoo, Mingyu’s features soften. The creases on his forehead disappear as his brows relax, his lips no longer pulled tight. He looks so boyish, so harmless, Wonwoo momentarily forgets his words can cut. The reminder is a dagger to his heart. “I love you.”

The ensuing silence is crystalline, still in the night. Handle it the wrong way and it will explode, sending a million tiny shards flying in all directions. Wonwoo thinks he is the same. All it takes is one single touch at the right place, and Mingyu is more than well-acquainted with every inch of his body.

“Can you not?”

Mingyu looks away. “It hurts when you don’t want to hear it.”

“Because you say one thing and mean another,” Wonwoo responds, jaw clenching involuntarily. “You’re telling me not to forget you when you’re gone.”

“Wonwoo-hyung.”

“Seriously,” Wonwoo warns. “Don’t.”

Undeterred, Mingyu marches on. “If we’re lucky, I might see this through with you. If we’re not, I don’t want you wishing you had accepted the words more often when I said them.”

Not wanting to hear another word of Mingyu’s nonsense, Wonwoo gets up. Mingyu seizes his elbow and pulls him down. Emotion builds up at the back of his throat. He wants to scream until his voice is as raw as the look Mingyu is giving him.

“With or without me, you need to get Vernon to the Lab.”

He breaks free from Mingyu’s hold and blocks his ears. His hands help, but not much. Mingyu’s muted voice slips through the barrier.

“He’s too important, okay? Too important to be given up.” Love recognises, that's what it does. There is no way to hide his intentions from Mingyu. Hands on either side of his face, Mingyu forces Wonwoo to look at him. “He can save them all. Everyone. So you can not give up. No matter what happens.” To me.

“I don’t give a shit about everyone, Mingyu.”

“Then do it for me. Do it because you love me.” Ask me anything else, Wonwoo silently pleads. Ask me anything else, but let me follow you wherever you go. Mingyu searches his eyes and smiles at whatever it is he discovers in them. He leans in, mouth moving against Wonwoo’s, a tentative dance. “When you’ve done what I asked—and not a second before—you come home to me. Walk through the door of our house and you’ll find meals from the old world on the table; they’ll become your favourites after the first bite. Seriously, when was the last time you had kalguksu? I promise to make you one. It’ll take me a few tries, and that’ll keep me busy until you arrive. You know, learning how to cook properly. Oh, and our beloved creatures. How can I forget about Nambi and Ddukkong? God. They’ll be so happy to see you.”

He has no idea when his hands have abandoned their futile protection of his ears and returned to their rightful place, wrapped around Mingyu’s middle, but Wonwoo never wants to let go.

“A place to love without hurt,” Mingyu adds softly, tucking a strand of Wonwoo’s unkempt hair behind his ear. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Wonwoo looks at him. How can such a powerful force be hosted in such a fragile shell, ready to be overtaken by another master at any time?

“I’m terrified.”

Mingyu hums, then rest his chin on Wonwoo’s uninjured shoulder. “When I joined the Fireflies, they told me you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“They were right.”

“I understand.” He pats Wonwoo’s back rhythmically. “It’s a long road to Incheon—“

“You think those Infecteds scare me?” Wonwoo interrupts, pulling back. “No, it’s you. You. Just the thought of leaving you behind, of you leaving me behind—it is fucking paralysing. Do you not understand who you are to me? What you do to me? Mingyu, if—”

He stops.

Love only has two endings. If Wonwoo were to experience one, the other would follow closely behind.

He stumbled upon the terminology in one of those yellow-paged medical textbooks. Broken heart syndrome. They said the condition is temporary, that the heart heals itself over time—but whoever wrote those pages hadn’t discovered Mingyu. Wonwoo did. There are some losses you never recover from.

“I’d rather be in the eternal doghouse with Ddukkong than spend a second in this wretched place without you.”

“Poor Ddukkong, forced to share his precious space with you,” Mingyu comments, tone taking a teasing dip. His lashes are wet. “Will you do as I ask, please?”

“Mingyu.”

“Please.”

"I—"

"Allow me this, hyung. Please."

“Okay,” Wonwoo eventually yields. Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. “But I want something in return.”

His eyes sharpen, focus narrowed to Wonwoo. “There’s nothing of mine that isn’t already yours. There’s no part of me without your name on it.”

“You haven’t given me this yet.”

“I’m listening.”

“One more good day,” he requests, caressing the beauty mark on Mingyu’s cheek. Mingyu melts against him as though Wonwoo is the warm one. “I want one more good day with you.”

“I can do one more good day,” Mingyu answers, voice tender. “And after that?”

Wonwoo leans up to seal a promise against his lips: “I’ll ask again.”

If we’re not, I don’t want you wishing you had accepted the words more often when I said them.”

i cant staandd youuuuu

would you like to sit down dear beloved pb <3

Ship/Member: joshua/any (i think josh/hao or josh/seungkwan would be fun)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: not cheolshua or jihan, no mcd

Prompt: [general star wars au, but bonus points for rogue one or andor vibes. force-sensitive josh trying to pass it off as being very empathetic, intimacy, trust, fear ]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: body horror, possibly gore
Additional Tags: necromancy, codependency, egregious and unethical use of human remains, *kristen stewart in crimes of the future voice* surgery is the new sex
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: [THE LOCKED TOMB AU please i can't get enough of them...like i said any member/ship is fine but i do like to envision necromancer jww and his cavalier ksy]

Ship/Member: soonwoo
Major Tags: MCD(but he comes back)
Additional Tags: gore, body horror, necromancy, questionable medical practices, unconditional love, egregious use of human remains, i dont believe that man's ever been to medical school
Permission to remix: Please ask

***

“Master physician?”

Wonwoo looks up as the door to his chambers is flung open and a young squire stumbles inside, gasping for breath. He raises an eyebrow inquisitively at the boy, who swallows and straightens his back.

“Master, it’s sir Soonyoung. He’s been injured.”

“Where is he?” Wonwoo asks, getting up and starting to gather his things immediately.

“No, master, he’s–”

He’s interrupted as several people muscle past him through the door, a carrier in between them. Soonyoung lies on it, battered and bloody. Wonwoo’s stomach sinks.

“Clear the table,” Wonwoo orders, pointing at the squire and then at one of the tables in the center of the room.

He does so, as Wonwoo skims through his bookcase, pulling out various books on medicine and healing, throwing them onto the table he’d been sitting at moments prior. When the squire has finished clearing the table, the knights who’d carried Soonyoung in put him on the table and rush out, not wanting to get in Wonwoo’s way. The squire stands in a corner, waiting to be dismissed.

“Get out!” Wonwoo snaps, gesturing towards the door and sending it flying open.

The squire startles, turns it into a bow, and then runs out of the room. He forgets to close the door and with another flick of his wrist Wonwoo closes it behind him.

Then, Wonwoo starts a fire in the fireplace in the corner of his chamber. He grabs a pot and fills it with water, hanging it over the fire. Finally, he goes to Soonyoung’s side.

It’s bad, he can tell as much immediately– Soonyoung’s eyes are open, but his breathing is shallow. He’s very close to disappearing. He seems to spot Wonwoo out of the corner of his eyes, and a small, pained smile comes across his beautiful face.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but ends up saying nothing and instead coughing up copious amounts of blood– Wonwoo tilts Soonyoung’s head to the side so the blood can run out of his mouth, but it’s a futile thing; Soonyoung is dying. His lungs have been torn and pierced. He’s drowning in his own blood.

One of his hands comes up to clutch Wonwoo’s wrist tightly, as a wave of pain seems to ripple through Soonyoung.

“It’s alright, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo murmurs softly, taking his face in his hands. He presses a kiss to Soonyoung’s forehead before resting his own forehead against his. “You won’t be gone for long.”

With a last gasp for breath, and a shudder, Soonyoung passes over and lies very still. Wonwoo presses another soft kiss to his forehead.

Then, Wonwoo steps away from the table. He sighs, looking out the window pensively for a moment–
The sun is still high in the sky.

He sticks his head out of the door and calls on a guard posted further down the hall, and asks him to bring him a dead goat, recently slaughtered, and intact. They give him a look, but don’t question it.

Going back inside, Wonwoo clears the floor around the table, shoving things into cabinets and rolling a carpet out of the way. He mutters a few words under his breath, and Soonyoung’s body floats a few inches off the table, allowing Wonwoo to sweep the table away with a flick of his right hand– it slams against the wall opposite, several glass bottles standing on the shelves rattling precariously.

Soonyoung stays in midair as Wonwoo stands near the door, foot tapping against the stone floor impatiently. Where’s that damn guard?

After five more minutes pass, someone knocks on his door.

“Come in.”

“Master physician,” says not the guard, but one of the knights. “May I ask what you need a dead goat for on this fine day?”

“Silence,” Wonwoo sneers, snatching the goat from him and placing it on the table, summoning a knife from across the room which flies dangerously close to the knight’s ear.

“Is that Soonyoung?”

“Jeonghan, I told you to be quiet.”

“Is he–”

“Quiet,” Wonwoo hisses, putting the knife down and shoving Jeonghan backwards out of the room, following him and closing the door. “You’re disturbing me. Don’t make me report you to the emperor.”

“Is he dead?” Jeonghan asks, voice softening a little.

“For now,” Wonwoo replies.

“Surely, you don’t mean to–”

“What? Are you going to rat on me?” Wonwoo whispers. “Don’t forget, Jeonghan. If I go down, you go down with me. I said I’d forget what I saw, but I’m more than happy to remember what you and Crown Prince Mingyu were–.”

“Relax,” Jeonghan says, with a tight lipped smile. “I’m not ratting you out. Just be careful. You’ve already got the whole castle talking about you.”

“Can’t a physician ask for a dead goat anymore?” Wonwoo sighs, falling back from Jeonghan.

Jeonghan rolls his shoulders back, “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed. How long will it take?”

“Not sure,” Wonwoo says. “No more than three days, I think. It’s not like I’ve done it before,” he adds, a bit belatedly.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at him. “It isn’t?”

Wonwoo’s upper lip curls, “watch your mouth, or you’ll start finding dead rats in your bed.”

“Geez,” Jeonghan laughs. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

With a curt nod, Wonwoo disappears back into his chambers, locking the door behind him. He bristles, going back to the dead goat and picking the knife up again.

The goat is brought to the center of the room, and murmuring the words of the incantation under his breath, Wonwoo pushes the knife in below its sternum and makes a deep cut downwards, the guts of the goat spilling onto the floor. He waves his hand, and the guts fly into a bucket which stands a few feet away from him.

Wonwoo dips two fingers in the blood which has spilled from the goat onto the floor, and stands up, taking a few steps forward, and starting from where he’s standing, draws a circle with the goat’s blood on the floor. Dipping his fingers in the blood again, he then draws a large pentagram in the circle, each of its points touching the outer ring, the goat in the center of all this.

He draws Soonyoung’s sword from its sheath and places it outside the circle, its tip meeting with a point of the pentagram. At each of the other points he places a candle, and with a sweep of his hand, he lights them all at once. Wonwoo looks outside and sees that much time has passed without his knowing, as it often does when he’s performing a ritual or some other magic. The sun has nearly set.

The goat’s body is put aside for now. Wonwoo walks to his bed and picks Soonyoung up again, his body not yet rigid with death, nor cold– his face still has its color.

He steps back into the circle and places Soonyoung in the center, his head facing the direction of the sword. Carefully, Wonwoo removes the last of Soonyoung’s armor, and undresses him so that his battered chest is now fully exposed. He brings over a bowl of warm water and dips a piece of cloth in it, using it to wipe away the blood and grime, washes Soonyoung clean until the only signs of battle still on him are the gashes and the way his ribs in some places stick out or curve in unnaturally where they have been shattered.

Wonwoo finds a new, clean knife, and before cutting, he kisses Soonyoung’s forehead once more, murmuring a soft apology.

Then Wonwoo splits Soonyoung open, from navel to collarbone. His hands do not shake. He has done this before, and he will again– as many times as he has to.

He peels back the skin, using his knife to loosen it from muscle when necessary, until he can see Soonyoung’s rib cage clearly– his lungs are ruined, several ribs broken and piercing them. Wonwoo picks them clean, and the ribs are then pieced back together, bound by the goat’s entrails.

As for the lungs themselves, Wonwoo leaves them alone. The incantations he’ll speak over Soonyoung will do the work of weaving his tissue back together. Once he’s done with his ribs, he folds the skin back into place, and seals the cuts he’d made with a paste of ground up herbs and Wonwoo’s own blood.

The innate magic quality of the body of a practitioner of the arts was useful in many spells and potions, but was strictly banned– you were not to desecrate your own, or anyone else’s body. At least not while you’re under the service of the emperor.

Wonwoo has always found this rule rather stupid, and the reasons for it even more so. Desecration? His own blood, freely given, was not a desecration, but a sacred act.

What was more sacred than this– bleeding for the person you love? Loving someone so much that you love them back to life? That’s what Wonwoo’s doing. He’s not desecrating Soonyoung. He’s sanctifying him.

To Wonwoo, nothing was more holy than this, this love, this bond. He’s crossed every line for Soonyoung, including the one between life and death. And he’s about to do it again.

He sits down cross legged on the floor at Soonyoung’s side, and picks up the knife again, wiping it clean on the cloth he’d used to clean his wounds. Then he cuts a thin gash into Soonyoung’s left wrist and draws the blood out slowly, letting it drip into a goblet. He cuts another gash into the skin of his palm, and lets his blood mix with Soonyoung’s in the goblet, swirling it a few times before he lifts it to his lips and drinks.

His eyes are closed, his hands resting on his knees. The goblet is beside him, empty. Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo begins to murmur again, old words and new, weaving and unraveling, until he begins to see the light, far, far away from him.

Wonwoo steps towards it, and consequently steps over the stonewall separating the world of the living and the dead. He picks up his pace, running, running, running towards the light until it consumes him and he’s thrown into an abyss. He falls for a minute or a year, then lands on his feet. He’s surrounded by ghostly shapes, things once human, but now without faces, because no one lived on who remembers what they looked like.

“Soonyoung!” Wonwoo calls out. “Soonyoung!”

He looks around, pushing through the crowd until he reaches the marsh, the surroundings familiar.

“There you are,” a soft, familiar voice says.

Wonwoo turns and sees Soonyoung coming toward him, a wide smile on his kind face. He runs forward to meet him and takes that face in his hands.

“Sorry I took so long,” Wonwoo says, as Soonyoung wraps his arms around him. “Let’s go back.”

“You show me the way,” Soonyoung whispers. “I’ve forgotten. I’ve been wandering around for too long, I think. I lost my sense of direction.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo says.

He’s about to step away, when Soonyoung pouts and pulls him back towards him. “Master physician,” he says, in a melodic voice. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Wonwoo laughs, shaking his head, but he kisses Soonyoung nonetheless. Even in death, his lips are soft and warm against his own. He pulls away, and takes Soonyoung’s hand, leading him back towards where he came from. There is a lake where the water is still and cold, but if you swim downwards long enough, eventually you’re swimming upwards.

They go to that lake, and they dive in together. Occasionally, Wonwoo will look to his left, just to make sure– and always, Soonyoung is already looking at him.

They swim until a light appears, and swim towards it, through it, and then they’re falling, and then–

With a gasp for breath, Wonwoo lands back in his body, doubling over and clutching his chest. He hears coughing and looks up to see Soonyoung on his hands and knees, coughing up the last of the blood that was left in his lungs. He crawls forward and wraps his arms around Soonyoung, muttering under his breath words of healing and comfort. Soonyoung clings to him, pushing off the floor to wrap his arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders, breathing hard.

“You never really get used to that, do you?” Soonyoung pants.

“I don’t think so,” Wonwoo replies. “How do you feel?”

“Splitting headache, and a little bit like a horse has trampled me, which is pretty normal given that a horse did in fact trample me.”

“How can you make jokes when you just died?” Wonwoo murmurs, forehead resting on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Losing you doesn’t hurt less even when I know I can bring you back. There is always that fear… that maybe I can’t reach you… that maybe–”

“You can always reach me,” Soonyoung says, and he sounds so sure of it that Wonwoo can’t help but want to believe him. “Since I’m always looking for you, and waiting for you to come and get me.”

“And I’ll always come,” Wonwoo says. He lifts his head up so he can look at Soonyoung. “You know there isn’t a place you could go where I wouldn’t follow you. To the ends of the earth, through death’s country, and whatever comes after.”

WOWWW moon this is lovely!! please take this as a compliment when i say it's not at all what i asked for and that makes it FUN like it was really unexpected and i love it so much..."loving someone so much that you love them back to life" AAAA!! gorgeous!! thank you for writing!

and above all else i am rlly obsessed with the implication that wonwoo has done this several times, maybe even many times, and he will keep doing it as many times as it takes just so he won't ever have to live without soonyoung. makes you wonder what would happen if ww was the one to die >:))))

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: optional: forced proximity, repression, mild violence
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: Bodyguard AU! Bodyguard/idol, bodyguard/royal, bodyguard/bodyguard, etc. Thinking about the inherent romance of shielding someone else from danger with your body. I'd love to see how a bodyguard might respond to a non-traditional threat (natural disaster? car accident? zombies?) but feel free to take this anywhere.

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

Prompt: Cafe Minamdang follows a former criminal profiler who now works as a fraudster. For his scams, he disguises himself as a shaman and runs the fortune teller shop (slash cafe) Minamdang. He attracts customers with his handsome physical appearance and smooth talking skills. He scams his customers for money, but he also gets involved in their cases and helps solve them.

if you've watched the drama then you know there's much more to it, but even if you haven't, i'd love to see something based only on the information given above re: a swindler and his colleagues (a barista, a waiter, and a hacker) convincing gullible masses to pay obscene amounts for him to contact the dead and help them sort out their troubles. if you want to throw in a detective investigating the cafe for suspicious activities, well...

Edited 2023-02-02 17:33 (UTC)

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

Prompt: science fiction au except the members are still idols in this alternate universe (could be futuristic, steampunk, post-apocalyptic, anything). basically explore how art and artists might fit into this sort of setting

Ship/Member: Woozi
Major Tags: mention of mass death in the beginning but it's pretty vague
Additional Tags: science fiction, space au, robot au, second person pov, woozi-centric character study on hearing and music
Permission to remix: Yes

lots of inspiration from "i think beethoven encoded his deafness in his music" by gabriela lena frank and that tweet from nasa about how a black hole can be heard in space if there's enough gas (that's my layman's understanding, at least. the physics of this is probably wrong)

***
Enjoy your next vacation into space aboard the RSS Soheon!

Featuring our award-winning restaurant, luxury spa and sauna, and live entertainment from robot idol group Seventeen!

***

You wake up for the lunchtime show one day, and the roof of the spaceship is gone. Blown clean off, not even a hint of damage, except for the fact that you can see straight into outer space where there used to be a ceiling.

No people either. All of the passengers and crew are gone, along with anything that wasn’t bolted down onto the deck. It’s like the rapture, Joshua transmits, half-awed and half-horrified. None of you mention what probably happens to humans if they’re plucked out by the hand of god, metaphorical or not, and exposed to the cold vacuum of deep space.

But even if this really is the end times, life marches on, and so do you. All thirteen of you: robots without the need for air, idols without an audience, floating through space on a ship without a roof.

***

Of course, you’re not completely lacking an audience. You have each other.

There’s always someone dancing, acting out a skit, trying to make another member laugh. It’s part of your programming, or maybe this is what you all have programmed yourselves into after all these years— always performing, always putting on a show.

But the shows are silent now. After all, in space, no one can hear you scream.

***

It’s not a competition, but of all the members, you probably feel it the most acutely. You’re the group’s producer— well, maybe not anymore. What’s a music producer who can’t produce music? But even outside of that, you’ve always lived for sound, fed on the energy from a passerby’s absent-minded humming, a rhythmic tapping of fingers, a soft dance of a piano melody. In contrast, the absolute silence of space feels constricting.

Without sound, everyone learns to communicate by transmitting electronic messages and extending grace where it’s needed. But you’ve always struggled putting your feelings into words.

***

I don’t get it, Hoshi tells you, scrunching up his eyebrows.

Sorry, I’m bad at explaining, you reply, but honestly, you’re not even sure this is something that can be explained.

You can try, Hoshi insists. Please, try. For me.

He’s looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes, and you let out a sigh, as if this was going to go any other way.

It’s just this feeling. I’ve been watching that star for a long, long time, and it feels like it’s…calling me?

Hoshi follows your gaze over the front of the ship. If there was a horizon, you would be looking straight at it; instead, the two of you, and the ship, are pointed directly towards a glaring, orange star.

When I look at it, you explain, it’s almost like I can hear sound again. Deep vibrations and bottomless humming.

What does it sound like?

It sounds like…like a giant generator running at the bottom of the ocean.

Cool.

You turn to look at him. You believe me? Coups said I should get my audio receptors checked.

Hoshi shrugs. I don’t think you would make up something like this. And for what it’s worth, I think Coups believes you too. He wouldn’t have changed the entire trajectory of the ship if he didn’t.

You have nothing to say to that. It’s hard to accept that other people believe you when you barely believe yourself.

Don’t worry, Woozi, Hoshi transmits, flashing you a big, earnest smile. We’ll get you to your star.

***

You spend a lot of your time writing now. Writing lyrics for songs that don’t exist, writing compositions you can only hear in your head.

It probably says something about you that you can’t figure out another hobby, can’t tear yourself away from music that no one can hear.

***

You think about Beethoven, too.

In his early sonatas, the left and right hand play close together, classical mirror images of each other. The hands in his later sonatas, after he had lost much of his hearing, stretch wide across the piano, dancing completely different choreographies. In the long yawn between low and high notes, there’s rich musical texture and contrast, but your mind keeps going back to the profound physicality of it. The vibrations of lower notes, the thickness and resonance of clashing sounds, the physical pressure of fingers on larger and heavier pianos.

People find ways of experiencing music without hearing.

***

It’s not safe to move the spaceship any closer to the star, S. Coups announces to everyone over breakfast one morning.

The humming from the star feels stronger than ever. It’s in your body, vibrating hot and loud through your circuits. Stopping here is not an option for you.

What if I exit the spaceship? you ask.

If he’s surprised, S. Coups doesn’t let it show. Yes, that could be safe as long as you stay tethered to the ship and don’t get more than forty kilometers closer to the star.

I can do that, you transmit, already getting up from your chair.

Hoshi stands and grabs your arm.

Hey, I’m coming with you.

Really? What if I’m just crazy?

So? I’m crazier, he replies.

Seungkwan gets up too. We already know both of you are crazy. I’m coming too.

Count me in too, Jeonghan chimes.

Same.

Me too, after I finish this egg.

One by one, all twelve of your members stand up, insisting they join you.

Okay, you say, not bothering to hide your smile.

***

All thirteen of you head out into space, tethered to each other and to the ship in a long, single-file line. You take the front of the line, leading everyone towards the bright, pulsing ball of gas. Even from millions of kilometers away, it seems so close, extending a massive and intimidating presence.

As you swim towards the star, the feeling in your body only grows stronger. You don’t know where you’re going, but this must be the right direction.

And then, your audio receptors pick up on the slightest sound. It’s a deep, soft rumble, haunting and strange, and almost out of your hearing range, but it’s definitely there. After months of being plagued by the feeling of almost hearing something, this is clearly so much more real.

You pick up the pace, accelerating forward and tugging at your members. Behind you, Mingyu gasps.

Is that…

“Yes,” you say, using your vocal transmitter for the first time since the accident. “You’re hearing sound.”

Your own voice shocks you. It’s exactly like you remember, which is not a surprise given how thoroughly all of you have maintained your parts. But being able to hear it is another thing altogether. After months of impenetrable silence, it’s overwhelming with relief, to know that you can try to speak and sound will actually come out.

You turn to look at your members. They’re just as emotional as you, in various states of shock and awe, and your heart is flooded with something indescribable. They’ve known you since you were all prototypes, they turned around a whole spaceship for you to chase a gut instinct, and they even stepped right into outer space to follow you. Words aren’t enough.

Instead, you open your mouth, and you sing for them.

Ship/Member: any! (but would love to see joshua/minghao)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: MCD (death mentions/violence is fine, but i just want them both to be alive!)

Prompt: pacific rim au! would love to see the exploration of how a pilot would fall in love with their mechanic/someone who isn't their pilot partner + how the type of platonic intimacy affects the way you would navigate a romantic relationship? or how that potential romantic partner would react/guide himself in that? i don't know that sounds like a lot so just do what feels right haha <3

This round has closed. It will forever remain open for comments, fills and remixes but any prompts posted after this Junhui will be deleted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 2 of 2

Round 2 2023: AUs

I see the NU EVO

[FILL] josh/shua

Re: [FILL] josh/shua

Re: [FILL] josh/shua

Re: [FILL] josh/shua

The tribe has spoken

no subject

You are my purpose.

[FILL] one more good day

Re: [FILL] one more good day

Re: [FILL] one more good day

at the center of magic

heavy in your arms

[FILL] from eden

Re: [FILL] from eden

these, our bodies, possessed by light

"it's not fraud, it's philanthropy"

no subject

[FILL] sounds of stars

no subject

PROMPTING CLOSED