17hols | Round 2: Alternate Universes

Entry tags:

2021

Round 2: Alternate Universes

Status: Closed

This round has closed. It remains open for fills and comments, but prompts are no longer accepted.

Seventeen Holidays

Round 2: Alternate Universes

About

Sometimes its the characters that move us, but sometimes we fall in love with the the world behind the story. Something transformative occurs when we place the characters we love in an unfamiliar world, like the light has shone on a new side and we're seeing them anew.

Run to the classics; revisit the magic of Harry Potter, the heart-punch of a Pacific Rim drift, the warmth of a Coffee Shop AU. Or maybe dig your fingers into a story that blew your mind - Battle Royale, The Raven Cycle, Interstellar - or demand better from a book that let you down (The Poppy War fin- mmph). Perhaps! You might combine two of your fandoms for maximum joy (Haikyuu and Tennis adjacent mutuals, I'm looking at you.)

The possibilities are literally endless. Do it for the aesthetic, do it for the drama.

Examples

Wonhui x MDZS/Untamed

Wonwoo as Lan Wanji, Jun as Wei Wuxian (Minghao as Jiang Cheng?). I want a cast that feels betrayed and shocked at Junhui's demise but then gradually learning his reasons behind it.

Mingyu/Seungkwan Debating AU

Imagine them as third speakers in the high school circuit. Rivals! Mortal Enemies! Prepared case summaries derailing into personal attacks, and then when their coach calls them out on it they become passive aggressive e.g. "there are major flaws in the opposition's arguments..."

Jeonghan as Mal from Inception

Any Jeonghan ship will do. I just want him to chaotically haunt a person while being sexy about it.

Rules

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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
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How it works

Prompting

Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post;
Change the subject to something interesting and saucy;
Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and fill in the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want!
Ship/Member: Any Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: N/A Do Not Wants: None Prompt:

Filling

Reply to the original prompt;
Change the subject to [FILL], you may add a title or stay chaotic;
Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment, fill in the sections, and add your text
You may also upload your fill to the AO3 Collection

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

Filling with art/media

Do the same as above, also;
Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.)
Insert the link to your work, done!
Optionally, you can embed a picture into your comment. Please use the following code instead.
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Navigation

ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

ROUND 3: SCREENCAPS

ROUND 4: WHO, WHERE, WHEN

REMIX ROUND

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

AHH thank you so much!!! i'm so glad it worked for you, thank you for this lovely comment <3

such a gripping piece!! the play on emotions *___* coming from no knowledge of the source material, your world building was really good and you effectively built the three characters so well.. i also love the alternating structure... and the narrative voice is great

my favorite line is And what about my dream is so ludicrous, Mingyu wants to ask. It’s the worst feeling in the world, coming home from a day of retiring androids and then having to pretend to love an electric animal. i love stories about what it means to be human... thank you for writing!!

Oh my... Thank you so much! T__T I had so many second thoughts after posting this but I'm glad you liked it <3 Thank you so much for reading and for saying such kind things, it means a lot ♡♡

OH MY GOD. THIS WAS SO GOOD!! I haven't read the book it's based off but I don't think I need to?? Their dynamics and relationships speak for themselves I think. I love how you wrote everything.. Mingyu with Wonwoo vs Mingyu with Minghao I just T__T and the part where he killed Minghao too! This was so so good and you delivered so much in so few words. I loved it!

hi the prompter here - i can't believe someone actually replied to my prompt! that's silly and weird to think when i prompted this hoping someone would, but still yeah it's amazing. so thank you!

and... oh my gosh. oh my heckin gosh i love this so much!!! oihina and the entire brazil arc is so dear to me anyway, and this is overwhelming! the choice of seungkwan as hinata in this scenario is so amazing, firstly seungkwan does have that protag energy about him, that quality of protean self-perfection and his friendliness, but the specific way you've written him is so dear. to me. he has freckles. him as hinata trying to get better, hinata with his seemingly bottomless hunger, seungkwan with his ambitions. and who's doing the seeing here? it's jeonghan. looking outwardly at seungkwan, at the gold-speckled boy he is, feeling anchored to this blazing presence, this whole... this whole dynamic. watching someone else progress, watching someone else share the same space you do, but knowing they've defeated you once and here you are trying to get better and here they are. how does seungkwan do it? what would they do besides volleyball? there's nothing else for either of them. AND YET THAT'S A QUESTION JEONGHAN WOULD ASK.

ALSO THE WAY SEUNGKWAN YELLS GRAND KING IS. i can hear that happening.

i am buzzing with excitement this is such a treat to read i can't thank you enough!! much love!

OKAY WOW I've read this thrice since yesterday and I finally fell coherent enough to comment. As a long-term meaniest and a gyuhaoist and a recent wongyuhaoist the implications of this has been severely damaging to me, thanks I can barely think about anything else. There is soo much unpack in such a short piece and I don't even know the source material but wow, you pack so much good world building AND character study- for all three of them- into this! There is such a weariness to you Mingyu that is so refreshing to read, and to have that gaze on both Wonwoo and Minghao- in more ways than one that too- packs such a punch. I'm just a big fan of this entire thing, thank you so much for sharing it!

this was so lovely! your writing is so vivid and i really like you too that feeling wonder and curiosity that this kind of a setting/difference in characters would invoke but made that same strange fascination a part of joshua/the immortal's perspective on the mortal! thank you for sharing this!<33

OH MY GOD I AM SO FERAL OVER THIS ENTIRE PIECE !!! you are simply unbelievable and brilliant, i will never get over the sharpness of this seokmin, like the blades he hides under his clothes, NEVER! i am just that dog getting bonked on his head meme... 97s ;__; of course its them. of course. I really cannot tell you the thrill of reading sexy unreadable seokmin from a MINGYU pov, its just sooo satisfying to watch him squirm under the triple pressure of Seokmin's voice and gaze, Minghao's presence and Jeonghan hovering at the back of the scene, in his earpiece- loaads to think about there. i am still reeling from the pace of your writing, how every moment felt loud in the dace of mingyu's slip-up and the lead up to the end, this is just gorgeous AND you threw in minghao pearls...well, you're right to do it!!

Ship/Member: mingyu/minghao, implied 97z
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: mandatory pacrim au, enemies to lovers, begrudging devotion to golden boy mingyu (a common trend, i fear), fighting/war motifs
Permission to remix: yes!

***

At first, Minghao hates Kim Mingyu.

He’s big and he’s clumsy — fumbling, always fumbling around, whether it’s with his feet or his tongue — and more often than not, pulls these brash, stupid maneuvers during training sessions that Minghao hates with a passion. Rangers have lost their lives doing a lot less.

It doesn’t matter to him if Mingyu miraculously lands them every single time. Minghao has been out there in the thick of it, when the rain sets down heavy and the kaiju are no longer these creatures on paper but instead these horrific monsters that tower over you, jaws snarling with spit, looking for blood. All that serves as the last barrier between you and death is your co-pilot next to you in that jaeger. Just you two, in the middle of a thunderstorm.

What saves you then?

▲▲▲

Minghao sits at the debriefing but his mind is a million miles away, back in Anshan. The kaiju are getting progressively stronger, Seungcheol says with a deep furrow to his brow. As if he hadn’t expected it. As if everyone on the front lines isn’t acutely aware of the fact that every day they fight carries them further and further from victory.

Beijing had nearly fallen yesterday. It had taken the combined efforts of Hermit Tango, Echo Hound and Solar Fox to fight off a category three, all jaegers manned by pilots with 4 years of experience under their belt and hundreds of kaiju carcasses in their wake. And even then, they’d just barely been able to dispatch it, fighting tooth and nail to keep the hulking beast to just two miles offshore. Two miles closer, and the casualty would have been hundreds of thousands of civilian lives, instead of just Jeon Wonwoo and Kwon Soonyoung, the co-pilots of the Solar Fox.

Minghao hasn’t been able to reach his mother for seventeen hours now, and every minute of it is excruciating.

From what Seungcheol says, Wonwoo’s and Soonyoung’s injuries aren’t too life-threatening, but their jaeger is definitely worse for wear. It’ll put them out of commission for at least 3 months, though with what Minghao knows of Soonyoung, he’ll be raring to go in a month and a half’s time, Wonwoo never too far behind.

But still, it’s troubling. Another pair down, making it the 4th team they’ve lost in the past six months.

The problem isn’t the kaiju. It’s the jaegers. They simply don’t have the right machines to fight their monsters.

“What do you think, Minghao?” Seungcheol cuts into his thoughts, eyes worried. “Minghao?”

Minghao jerks to attention, eyes drawn to the screen. The schematics for the first ever 3-pilot jaeger flickers up in front of him. Cobra Moon. It’s bigger than anything Minghao’s ever seen. It’s beautiful. Then he looks at the three pictures of the proposed pilots beneath it. When he recognizes the faces, his heart seizes in his chest.

That’s the thing about war: the smart ones should never seek it out. But when it comes calling, you must never be afraid to answer.

He pauses at the last headshot. A boy, tanned and handsome, who smiles with all his canines.

“Kim Mingyu?” Minghao blurts out, horrified. Absolutely not, he wants to say. There is no way in hell I’d let him up there with Seokmin. With us.

“I know you have your reservations about him, Hao,” Seungcheol says placatingly, both hands out. “But whether you like it or not, he’s one of our best. And we don’t have the time to waste.”

“Besides,” Jihoon steps up beside Seungcheol, mouth quirking up into a grin, “nothing’s set in stone yet. You’ve got to see if you’re all drift compatible first. Your profiles all suggest that you are, but,” Jihoon shrugs, “there’s only so much that theory can uphold. Cobra Moon’s the most ambitious jaeger we’ve had yet, and we’ve got to have one hell of a team to man her.”

“And you think that’s us,” Seokmin interrupts, hands fidgeting with his lips. He sounds dubious, but Minghao doesn’t think Seokmin realizes that he’s already rising up to the challenge: broad shoulders straightening, body at full attention, a grim sort of determination already settling over all of his handsome features.

Seungcheol nods resolutely at this. “The kaiju are only getting bigger. We’ve got to get better.”

The or else is implied. Minghao feels the terror of it settle across everyone’s shoulders in the room, reeking of desperation. A billion lives hang in the balance, at the mercy of chance.

Minghao opens his mouth to say something else, but then Seokmin looks at him, eyes bright and eager to lead, and well, he has no other choice but to follow.

They nod in sync. There has been no need for words between them for years now. Familiarity is a weighty thing, and the both of them have always carried it well. Minghao and Seokmin. Seokmin and Minghao.

And now, Minghao thinks mournfully, Mingyu too.

“Yes, sir. We’ll try our best.”

▼▼▼

Minghao purses his lips, scowl set permanently in place as Mingyu exits the simulation with an exhilarated laugh, sweat running gloriously down the side of face. He’s trying his best, goddamnit, but it’s proving particularly difficult today.

Chan, a promising young pilot, follows, equally as drenched in sweat. His eyes widen when he sees that they aced the examination with flying colors, while Mingyu’s grin broadens even further.

The sight of it irks Minghao, no matter how much he tries to stuff the emotion. Another stupid stunt, another new never-before-seen record. Minghao can see Mingyu’s confidence grow, spiraling dangerously higher and higher, pushing at the confines of the roof.

Miracles can run dry too, you know.Minghao wants to hurl the words across the room. You cannot believe that luck will be enough to save all of us.

“He’s cute,” Junhui says offhandedly from where they’re standing, as if that is supposed to make up for everything that Mingyu has done since transferring to the San Francisco Shatterdome (read: burrow his way under Minghao’s skin like the fucking worm that he is). Minghao is simultaneously offended and outraged beyond reason.

“Still doesn’t give him the right to be so reckless,” Minghao mutters under his breath.

“He’s good,” Junhui pats his shoulder placatingly. “You just don’t want to admit it. Because he’s also good-looking.”

“One day, I will kill you,” Minghao says coolly, gazing distractedly at all the whooping and hollering. It's a warranted celebration: this group of rangers has all passed their evals for the evening and graduated. They’re all one step closer to getting their own jaegers, one step closer to finding their own co-pilots to drift and share them with.

One of them already has a team, though he doesn’t know that just yet. And a 3-pilot jaeger waiting for him, too.

Minghao studies Mingyu a little longer, letting his eyes wander the landscape. As much as he loathes to admit it, Mingyu has a face made for history, all noble and brave and memorable. And if Seokmin has anything to say about it, they’ll definitely make it there. The three of them.

Mingyu catches his gaze over the heads of his cohort. For a moment, Minghao is struck speechless. He knows Mingyu feels it too, watches the way Mingyu’s mouth goes slack with shock and disbelief, feels the electricity arcing through the air between them.

Minghao nods hesitantly, a greeting in earnest. Did you — ? The question goes unasked, but Mingyu imperceptibly straightens up and dips his head in polite greeting before whirling around to join the rest of the rangers on their way to the mess hall. I did.

Junhui sees the whole thing unfold and grins wickedly, though he quickly schools his features into a blank expression when Seungcheol walks by. “Sir,” he adds respectfully, then resorts back to a gossiping schoolgirl the moment Seungcheol passes, hanging onto Minghao’s arm. “So, I’m right, right? He’s cute?”

Minghao turns away. Lets that be his answer to the question instead, because he doesn’t want to think about a world in which Junhui is right.

►►►

Mingyu tries too hard in the kwoon room. He’s trying his best, but he is all windmills and big attacks where Seokmin is lithe muscle, poised and practiced and restrained.

They’ve been running combat for hours now, and every time Seokmin deftly blocks an attack to land one of his own, Mingyu lets out an annoyed growl and gets back to his feet and charges back into it. They’re sweaty, stripped down to their bare uniforms, muscle and sweat and meat clashing against each other, the sounds echoing around the room. It sounds absolutely divine and simultaneously wretched to Minghao, for the sole reason of it being Mingyu up there with Seokmin, under everyone’s careful scrutinization, and not Minghao himself.

Thwack! “Again.”

Thump! “Again.”

Smack! “Again,” Mingyu grits out, the sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes. Seokmin bares his teeth in a thrilling grin and obliges.

The air is humming with anticipation. Has been ever since Seokmin and Mingyu have started. Even Jihoon’s surprised at the tenacity with which they go at each other, how easily energy slams into one body, flowing from one another. An intricate dance with an even more demanding ritual.

Blood hasn’t been drawn, but there’s something that tells Minghao not to rule that out just yet. He sits in the corner, watching Seokmin on the mat, legs crossed, veins thrumming.

He can’t tell if he’s angry or simply jealous. Whatever it is, he’s simmering in it. Minghao has to bite his tongue to refrain from lashing out.

War does not reward effort. It only remembers the victors, and Minghao does not intend to lose.

He expects to be here for a while, stuck to the soundtrack of Mingyu losing over and over again. A bloom of pride swells in his chest as he watches Seokmin gain point after point, driving Mingyu to his knees.

Then, something unexpected: Mingyu draws Seokmin in on a feint, uses the entirety of his opponent’s bulk against them and twists them around so that he’s got one knee on Seokmin’s heaving chest, face dangerously close to Seokmin’s. In a blink of an eye, Minyu has turned the tables and made it impossible for Seokmin to escape.

There’s a glint in Mingyu’s eye, crowing and victorious.

“Do you surrender,” Mingyu says, his forearm lined up against the adam’s apple of Seokmin’s throat, pressing down lightly. Mingyu’s not looking down at Seokmin though, and neither is Seokmin.

Minghao swallows and ignores the pounding in his ears as he stares at them from across the room.

He nods, throat too tight to speak.

“I do,” Minghao says, and the hate he holds for Mingyu begins to flutter, shapeshifting into something that resembles respect.

Minghao begins to craft his devotion.

(Hands are extended, pulling the both of them off the floor, and Minghao has to admit that Mingyu doesn’t look half too bad in this light.

“I think we started off on the wrong foot,” Mingyu laughs, wiping sweat haphazardly with the back of his hand. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“I know who you are,” Minghao says, but offers a small smile in return. Seokmin beams up at the both of them. “Welcome to the team.”)

***
a/n: feeling very much deranged i wrote this in between doing classwork all of today and i didn’t realize it had hit 1.8k but now here we are dw user equational :) i haven’t watched pacrim in a while so apologies for any discrepancies, but it still remains a comfort movie of mine. first off thank u for bonking me nothing gets me like the love hosted in devotion n the idea of entrusting ur life in someone else’s hands, especially in the context of the triangle. what a funky geometric shape !! i need to stop writing these at 2am but hopefully this makes sense somewhat.. i enjoyed this so much

Edited 2021-01-20 10:33 (UTC)

karina im in class but im still going to scream at you i can't believe you've done this 97Z??? DEVELOPING THE DEVOTION OF JAEGER COPILOTS??? UR INSANE FOR THIS im going feral

- FIRST OF ALL UM i see ur soonwoo copilots i see them and i feel a little insane about it but it's fine it's cool it's all good

- "That’s the thing about war: the smart ones should never seek it out. But when it comes calling, you must never be afraid to answer." that coming from xmh especially given the context of him thinking abt anshan and the First Ever 3-pilot jaeger and trying not to feel fear....i love how xmh resents gyu's confidence and "Miracles can run dry too, you know. Minghao wants to hurl the words across the room. You cannot believe that luck will be enough to save all of us." is SO minghao. and i love the 8jun friendship in this grrr

- im going to cry at the seokhaoisms minghao knowing before seokmin himself does that seokmin's ready to meet the challenge and "Seokmin is lithe muscle, poised and practiced and restrained" SHUT UPHJKFHGJFDJHD

- the entire final scene and the part before it where minghao Realizes. that scene is just. so much. seokgyu sparring but mingyu asking MINGHAO if he surrenders at the end... "Minghao begins to craft his devotion." GODDDDDD I could write a thesis on that holy shit the grudging respect that's going to grow into something so much more UR INCREDIBLE UR BRAIN IS AMAZING THANK YOU FOR THISHGKJF

THANK U KAI HHHH i knownothing abt fashion but i do know i want them to sound EXPENSIVE and HOT and im glad that worked hehe thank u for always being so kind to me <333

u totally Got Me in return this morning w ur jaeger copilot devotionisms thank u for that...and thank u for this prompt and the chance for me to go utterly feral and let seokmin be dangerous and sharp (yeah mg wants dk so bad it makes him look stupid) (svt himbo line broadification continues to Cause Problems) THANK U MWAH ILY

WAAAAH THANK U SO MUCHHH i think seokmin should be allowed to be as dangerous and unreadable and enticing as he is fully capable of being hksghksd im so glad the pace and jeonghan being a menace and dumb little mingyu being flustered worked for u....and minghao pearls as a treat <333 thank u thank u thank u

us [holds hands] Getting each other with our prompt fills [holds hands] unfortunate mingyu-isms in 2k21 <3333 perhaps we are all insane!! *good to me voice* AYA AYA AYA the jaeger copilotism (the three-way triangular devotion) fits 97z soo fucking well this thing practically just wrote itself if i will be honest. ive told u this before but minghao hatred turning into respect is honestly the crux of this entire thing... i think i wrote the very first line At first, Minghao hates Kim Mingyu and then immediately after then Seokmin looks at him, eyes bright and eager to lead, and well, he has no other choice but to follow. so i Knew deep down where this was going

thank YOU FOR READING HOLY i always look forward to them bc theyre just so kind n nice but also comes with the feeling of being Seen/Understood/Feeling Feral together and thats always nice

Ship/Member: Joshua/Seungcheol, Mingyu/Jeonghan, implied Jeonghan/Seungcheol, implied Joshua/Mingyu
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: In the mood for love au, infidelity, missed connections, ambiguous relationships
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Are you still at work?
I’ll be late tonight, then.
I’ll see you in the morning, maybe.

It was a series of near misses. He nearly met Jisoo because they were trying to rent the same room. He asked the landlady if there was a place open. “Oh,” she said, patting her bouffant hair distractedly, “but I’m afraid it’s already been rented out! In fact, you just missed him.”

He gave her half-lowered eyes and a slight bow. “Very sorry to bother you, then.”

“Wait, wait!” Those eyes always seemed to work. “Well, how many of you?”

“Just me,” he said. “And a friend.”

She gave him a twice-over. She must’ve trusted what she saw in him. He’d always been aware of himself. Of the way he could make his own face a sort of gentle begging.

All of next week, the movers kept switching their furniture. He stood half in the doorway, his head nearly level with the ceiling light fixtures, listening to the accented Korean down the hall trying to stretch patience with the occasional cloying laugh, muffled within the bustle of the movers and the landlady who seemed ever-eager to help. “Mind that mirror,” the voice said. “Oh, not on top of the radio, please! Those shoes aren’t mine— they must be next door’s.”

The neighbor made an appearance only once or twice. Once in the mirror the movers were carrying in. Once cut-off by the doorjamb, anxious in profile, turned slightly towards the inside of the room. It was like slotting puzzle pieces together, trying to understand what he looked like, who he was. He had a full mouth, sleepy doe eyes. When the movers were gone they left behind more evidence of his life, but his door opened on the second buzz, and even in the false yellow evening light, half-swallowed by the dust motes of moving boxes, his face was breathtaking.

“Excuse me, but are the martial arts serials yours?”

“Oh!” The neighbor took the box and held it close. He had a single silver ring on his pinky finger and he wore a red satin shirt that seemed to stick to his skin. “They’re my husband’s.”

“He reads martial arts serials?”

“I don’t know why I lied,” the neighbor said, looking up through his lashes. “They’re mine.”

“I always loved those serials,” Mingyu said, tilting his head, making sure his eyes caught the light. “Hated to miss an episode. Once, I even thought of writing one.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I suppose I could never get started. But I have a collection, too. Feel free to borrow from it.”

The neighbor’s eyes shifted somehow. “Not now. But maybe another time. My name is Hong Jisoo. What should I call you?”

“Mingyu.”

“Mingyu,” Jisoo repeated, his mouth lifting into almost a smile. There was something deeply hidden about him. He was gripping his own poise white-knuckled, his back straight as a post, his neck long and swanlike. Mingyu held his gaze until he looked down at the box again. And then it became, somehow, another miss. A disconnect that was unbridgeable.

“Will I see you at dinner?”

“Maybe,” Jisoo said, his mouth curling up into another not-smile.

He arrived a half-hour after everyone else, when the baduk games had already started. He whispered into Mingyu’s ear, one elbow on the table, one hand hovering above Mingyu’s shoulder, “There’s a friend here for you. He said his name was Jeonghan.”

He pressed himself back against the doorjamb when Mingyu turned to leave like he was fighting against a magnetic pull. Their arms brushed over the threshold of the dining room.

***

Have you spoken to your husband yet?
Then we shouldn’t meet anymore—
Okay, then. After tonight.

“I’m sorry to take you out to dinner,” Jisoo said. He was staring into his tea, which was dark as syrup in the dim scarlet restaurant decor. “You might think it strange, but— I wanted to ask you something. The necklace you were wearing the other day. Where did you buy it?”

“Why?”

“You looked very elegant in it. Don’t laugh! You did. I’d love to get one for my husband—”

“Well, I’d have to ask my— I’d have to ask Jeonghan. He bought it for me. From abroad. They’re not available here.”

“Well,” Jisoo said, his smile disappearing, “never mind.”

“Actually,” Mingyu said, stirring his tea, “I wanted to ask you something, too.”

“Yes?”

“Where did you buy your tie?”

Jisoo glanced down. It was a red silk tie. “Oh, I wouldn’t know,” he said, sounding surprised. “My husband— well, Seungcheol buys all my ties. He bought it on a business trip abroad. They’re not sold here.”

“What a coincidence,” Mingyu said. He couldn’t look at Jisoo anymore. “Actually, Jeonghan has one just like it.”

He heard Jisoo’s spoon clink against the cup.

“Seungcheol has a necklace just like yours, too.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, pressing his palm into his jaw, staring at the cheap plastic laminate of the menu. He could almost see his own distorted reflection. “I’ve seen it. I thought I was the only one who knew.”

“Sometimes you look very sad when you think no one’s looking at you,” Jisoo said softly.

***

I have a lot to do here.
Forget it! Talk to you later.
No need to pick me up.

“Oh, Jeonghan didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He left his shift early tonight.”

It began to rain on the way home from the office, but he didn’t notice at first. He trembled against a wall and finished fitting the situation together. It felt like trying to take a picture of his own reflection in a window.

He felt the way he did usually, late nights at work, staring into the dark while his cigarette exhaled blue smoke above his head. He was somewhere far away until he saw Jisoo ascending the stairs with a thermos of noodles. A sinewy silhouette that was one with the night until it emerged into the pale streetlight, shadow pinpricked with violent raindrops.

Jisoo’s tan suit jacket instantly soaked a dark brown, same as his eyes. He wiped at his face like he was wiping tears away. Delicately. Mingyu jogged forward and took his jacket off to hold it above both of their heads as they walked, and Jisoo looked up at him once with gratitude that bordered on awe.

“My husband’s on business,” he said when they were inside. Mingyu had heard the landlady gossiping about the husband. How often he was away. How sad it was to see Jisoo so lonely. Jisoo was valiantly trying not to shiver as he brushed his wet hair off his face. “That’s why I’m at the noodle stall so often.”

“I’m quite alone myself, lately,” Mingyu said, leaning on the wall.

Jisoo looked at him, his eyebrows lifting in an expression that could’ve been either sympathy or careful curiosity. He stepped further into his apartment. The space of the doorway behind him grew.

“Would you like to come in and share my food?”

Mingyu borrowed a towel and dried his hair. They ate sitting on the bedcovers, alternating the same set of chopsticks. The baduk games started up ten minutes in and didn’t let up, and they could hear the landlady’s gossip, constant as the rain. They put the empty thermos aside and talked about martial arts serials and began planning their very own.

At ten-thirty, Mingyu braced his hand against the door frame and watched Jisoo lean and scout the hallway, face sharpened tight by expectant tension. When Jisoo turned to look at him and shake his head, his nose almost touched Mingyu’s lips.

At midnight, Mingyu said they should get some rest. Jisoo stretched out on the bedcovers, and Mingyu sat on the floor next to the bed.

Once, Jisoo sat up on an elbow. He reached out slowly towards Mingyu like he wanted to touch his cheek, reached close enough that Mingyu could almost feel the heat radiating from him.

But he drew back soon, like it was an accident. Mingyu saw it all in the mirror that sat in front of him. He couldn’t sleep. His heart was racing.

At dawn, Jisoo finally touched him gently on the shoulder.

“You should go,” he said into his ear, soft enough that it made Mingyu shiver.

***

I didn’t think you’d come.
We won’t be like them.

Sometimes when they went out together they’d practice imagining how it had started. One time Jisoo tried caging Mingyu against a wall. “Seungcheol’s assertive,” he said, inches away from Mingyu’s mouth, the implication being that he, himself, was not.

One time Mingyu instructed him to ask why he’d called at the office.

“Why did you call me at the office today,” Jisoo asked across the diner table.

“I had nothing to do. I wanted to hear your voice,” Mingyu said, trying for coy.

He sounded ridiculous. They both dissolved into laughter.

“Jeonghan’s a smooth talker,” Mingyu explained. “I’m not.”

He was very different from Jeonghan. He expressed his love in his own reaching desperate way. One night Jisoo didn’t come out for dinner. The landlady said he was sick, and had a craving for sesame syrup.

Mingyu spent an hour making it, half-thinking it would be some kind of friendly gesture. But when he brought the thermos to Jisoo’s room and knelt on the ground by his bed and fed it to him carefully and brushed his damp hair away from his flushed eyes, it didn’t feel very casual anymore.

None of it did.

“Before, I couldn’t understand how it had started,” Jisoo said one night, staring at the puddles on the street. The gate they were walking next to cast irregular stripes of indigo shadow on his face, obscuring him even further. “It seemed impossible.”

He looked up and seemed to shrink into himself.

“I don’t want to become them.”

In the taxi he wouldn’t look at Mingyu. If anyone had looked through the window they might have seen two strangers who happened to be sitting next to each other.

But inside the car, when their hands brushed, Jisoo didn’t move away. He let them have that final moment.

He didn’t look at Mingyu, and he didn’t try to read all the things behind Mingyu’s face. The things that Mingyu might whisper into a ruined temple wall six years later, cover the breach with mud, hide away the one true thing that had slipped through their fingers like their own shadows.

***

Edited 2021-01-21 06:46 (UTC)

oh my gosh.. thank you!! T__T i'm so glad you mentioned it because i really wanted it to be a thing.. joshua's fascination with mortals because, being trapped on the island, he doesn't meet many. plus circe always had a fascination with mortals so I wanted that to be a thing here also :)) thank you so so much for reading and commenting though! ♡

MAN i cant believe i tried to get u with the prompt and then u ended up getting me with the fill??? i adore the way this is structured w the lines from the movie preluding each section and youve managed to capture the movie's atmosphere so perfectly!! it's amazing how much youve allowed us to see into their heads and feel what they must b feeling w/o ever really outright stating it explicitly #___#

> i really liked He pressed himself back against the doorjamb when Mingyu turned to leave like he was fighting against a magnetic pull. Their arms brushed over the threshold of the dining room. missed connections translating into physicality??? my brain is going a little haywire??
> and then He expressed his love in his own reaching desperate way. KIM MINGYU ACTS OF SERVICE???? absolutely catatonic i cant believe youve done this to me
> He didn’t look at Mingyu, and he didn’t try to read all the things behind Mingyu’s face. The things that Mingyu might whisper into a ruined temple wall six years later, cover the breach with mud, hide away the one true thing that had slipped through their fingers like their own shadows. IM UNHINGED!!! ur prose is so stunningly gorgeous i know i say this a lot but its true... it rlly pulls everything u have going on here into this super tight cohesive narrative and im always so impressed by how much u can say without using that many words at all. thank u so much for writing this!!

Ship/Member: Soonyoung/Vernon, implied past Soonyoung/Wonwoo and Seungkwan/Vernon
Major Tags: past character death
Additional Tags: grief/mourning, injury recovery
Permission to remix: Yes

***

Even after four months, standing up for five minutes is almost too much to bear. Hansol’s fingers wrap around the walker so tightly they turn pale, whiter than seafoam and trembling just as hard. He’s never been so frustrated in his life.

The doctor says it’s a miracle he’ll be able to walk normally again someday. The doctor says it’s a miracle he’s alive at all. He should’ve died out at sea, body lifeless and swollen and sunk to the ocean floor, to decay where the light can never reach. Tidal Reaper an impressive name for a jaeger and an even more fitting one for a coffin.

Three months ago they told him they were never able to recover Seungkwan’s body.

Hansol grits his teeth, struggling to plaster on the brightest smile he can manage when he makes eye contact with the doctor. From her expression, he’s not fooling anyone. “Hansol-ssi, are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” she asks him gently, hands hovering around him like she’s afraid he’ll fall. “There’s no shame in trying again tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, irrationally upset at the way his voice quivers. His body never does what he wants it to, anymore. An ever-present reminder of the weakness that has become a fact of life, ever since that day when he’d seen the kaiju coming too late and he’d felt real, bone-chilling fear for the first time, paralyzed by the knowledge that there was nothing he could do—only watch.

“What do they have in the cafeteria today?” he asks, inching the walker forward, little by little. “Anything special?”

“Baek-jjamppong,” the doctor answers. She steps back to give him some breathing room. “It’ll be good on a cold day like this.”

Hansol nods, exhaling harshly through his nose, lips curling back in a grin that looks too wild in the mirror. “Anything else? Fresh fruit?”

The doctor hesitates, long enough for him to drag himself halfway across the room. “A shipment of oranges came in from Jeju today,” she finally tells him.

She darts forward to catch him when he stumbles on an invisible crack in the linoleum, but Hansol clings stubbornly to the walker, pulling himself upright with all the tremulous strength remaining in his hands. Suddenly the smile comes easily for once. “Then I definitely have to go get one,” he says, pushing the walker over the bump in the open doorway.

--

To catch a glimpse of Soonyoung before was rare. They were just so busy, the both of them, Soonyoung always on his feet running around fixing everyone else’s problems and Hansol preoccupied with dealing with his own. Now he sees Soonyoung almost every day.

“I can’t believe it took me nearly dying for you to finally visit me,” he’d joked once, in the beginning, but the look on Soonyoung’s face made him regret it immediately.

“Don’t joke about things like that,” said Soonyoung, serious in a way he rarely ever was. Sober, and so, so sad. The depths of his mourning Hansol finally understood.

Now, there’s nothing but open delight on his face when Hansol shuffles into the cafeteria. That, and a tint of surprise at the edges. For a moment, Hansol’s overwhelmed by immense pride. Soonyoung’s praise is not cheaply given, and the part of Hansol that once desperately sought his approval in everything has apparently lived on from his teenage years.

“You should’ve told me you were walking,” he chides Hansol lightly, guiding him to the table he’d been sitting at with Seokmin. He helps Hansol lower himself onto the bench carefully. Hansol lets out a sigh of relief. “I would’ve come to get you.”

“It wasn’t planned,” says Hansol, “but I heard there were Jeju oranges today. Did you save me one?”

“Did he,” says Seokmin, teasing. “He guarded the oranges like a watchdog. Snapped at anyone who tried to take more than one.”

Soonyoung splutters. “Did not! I just wanted to make sure there were some left for Hansol. No one needs to take that many oranges at once, especially not Kim Mingyu.”

Hansol laughs. “Are they good?”

“Super sweet,” Seokmin declares, fingers already quickly stripping one of its skin. He breaks it into sections and passes one to Hansol with a, “Looking fresh, Hansollie.”

Because it’s Seokmin, Hansol knows he means it. The orange, when he bites into it, is just as sweet as promised. “Thanks, hyung.”

Soonyoung continues the conversation from earlier, bringing Hansol in like he’d been there from the start. But he keeps a firm grip on Hansol’s hand, as if to hold him down from floating away. Hansol doesn’t mind, even if it makes it harder to eat the oranges. It’s grounding, in a way, to be held so tightly and so quietly. Soonyoung never treats him like he’s fragile but he always reminds Hansol that he’s there.

--

They’d tried drifting together once, actually. Back when Hansol was a new recruit as green as grass and Soonyoung was much closer to becoming a full-fledged Ranger. It went well. More than well, in fact. They were compatible to a level that some people would never reach with anyone in their lifetimes, no matter how hard they tried. Good enough to be partners, for real.

But it paled in comparison to Soonyoung’s drift scores with Wonwoo. The innate understanding they seemed to share, naturally attuned to each other beyond comprehension. Hansol remembers watching them spar, someone who he’s long since forgotten standing next to him and whistling. Nothing quite like best friends since childhood, they’d said, and Hansol had thought, well, duh.

“I was actually so mad at him, at first,” Soonyoung tells him one day. The sun has long since set, unwilling to wait for the end of Soonyoung’s workday. Hansol isn’t nearly as impatient. Having Soonyoung visit late at night is better than not having him visit at all. “He didn’t even want to be a pilot, he just came chasing after me.”

Please don’t tell me you’re sorry, Hansol had said, the first time Soonyoung had come to see him after they’d told him Seungkwan was dead.

I wasn’t going to, Soonyoung had replied, quietly, but he’d sat next to Hansol and held his hand the whole day. He didn’t say it, but Soonyoung was probably the only person who could’ve told Hansol I know how you feel without it being a lie.

Today, Hansol dares to say, “He loved you a lot.”

“He did,” Soonyoung agrees, his smile small, dreamy, tinged with nostalgia. Like only half of him is present right now, the other half floating on the edge of a memory. “So stupid. I loved everything about being a pilot, but he only did it for me. Said I’d get myself killed if he wasn’t there to watch out for me.”

Hansol nods, knowing. It wasn’t like that for him and Seungkwan. They both loved it the same—one of the many reasons why they matched so well. He gets it, though. You don’t have to love the vessel you’re in, only the person in it with you.

“Did you ever think of going back, after?”

“A few times,” Soonyoung admits. “But I don’t think I could handle having another crazy person in my head if it’s not him.”

Outside, the moon’s reflection is rendered into squiggles by the gentle push and pull of the waves. Soonyoung asks him, occasionally, if he’d like to open the window for some fresh air, but Hansol always refuses. The smell of the sea makes him sick these days.

“Why’d you join J-Tech?” he asks.

Soonyoung laughs. “Crazy, isn’t it? The jaegers took everything from me and I still can’t get enough of them. Love ‘em so much I could hate myself for it.”

Crazy, but oh, how Hansol understands. “Wonwoo-hyung wouldn’t want that,” he says quietly. “He’d want you to love what you love.”

“I know, Hansollie,” says Soonyoung, rubbing a thumb over the back of Hansol’s hand. Somehow Hansol the one that’s being comforted. “I know.”

Something in his chest loosens at that. The same old sorrow still has its ugly claws wrapped tight around his neck, throat closing up whenever he thinks about Seungkwan. Because Hansol only wants to remember him as he was, happy or sad or angry but always looking forward with the knowledge that they would carry on together, but all he can see at night is Seungkwan in the worst moment, in pain, right before the end. It feels like the worst disservice to him. Hansol could hate himself for it.

But maybe today he can talk about it.

“He saw it before I did,” Hansol says, for the first time. “Twisted around right in time to take the hit for me. Just as stupid, isn’t he, hyung? So selfless.”

Soonyoung moves to hug him then, as best as he can with the hospital bed in the way. His arms rest heavy around Hansol’s shoulders. Hansol thinks he should be crying, but instead he just feels empty. What they don’t tell you about letting another crazy person into your head is that it feels like half of you’s been stripped away once they’ve left it.

“I want to go home,” he says, barely aware that he’s saying it, focused as he is on the feeling of Soonyoung’s arms holding him down. When he says home, though, it’s not Seoul or New York he thinks of first, but Jeju. An old house, baby pictures along the wall, cliffs hanging over the sea. A home he’s never seen before, a home he only knows through Seungkwan. A home nonetheless.

“I’ll take you home,” Soonyoung says softly, “I promise.”

You don’t even know which one I’m talking about, Hansol wants to tell him, but suddenly his vision is swimming with fatigue and all he can see is Soonyoung’s face, looking so sad. Funny, Hansol thinks, I’ve only seen him that sad once before. Then his eyes are slipping shut and he can no longer fight the pull of sleep, unable to think about anything at all.

Vaguely he registers the press of Soonyoung’s lips against his forehead.

--

When he wakes from the deepest, most restful sleep he’s had in months, the sunlight glints off of Soonyoung’s ring where his hand is still curled around Hansol’s. Hansol watches him sleep with his cheek pillowed against the edge of the bed, drool leaking out of the corner of his lips. Shoulders rising and falling in a steady motion, even and cyclical. As familiar as the way his hand fits in Hansol’s.

The air smells faintly of oranges. Slowly, Hansol gets up and opens the window.

HELLO???? this is so well written... and such a good portrayal of soonsol. soonyoung serious in a way he rarely was T__T soonyoung guarding the oranges... wonwoo devotion... soonyoung just holding his hand and not saying sorry!!!

the line where i started crying: "You don’t have to love the vessel you’re in, only the person in it with you."

the line where i started crying harder: "An old house, baby pictures along the wall, cliffs hanging over the sea. A home he’s never seen before, a home he only knows through Seungkwan. A home nonetheless."

I'LL TAKE YOU HOME HE SAID ;______; this piece plays so well to the soulmateism of the past pairings but also the unexpected understanding between two people who are very different... u really crafted the history so well. it's really really good ty for sharing!!

hui oh my GOD this is so ;____; i Teared up no joke: "He didn’t say it, but Soonyoung was probably the only person who could’ve told Hansol I know how you feel without it being a lie." you!!!! there's something so visceral and haunting about this, but kind of peaceful, too, like floating in the deep end. i love the scene where hansol stops thinking about seungkwan's childhood home and only sees soonyoung in front of him before he falls asleep. this reminded me of ao3 user mariya's pacrim fic but it hurt even MORE somehow idk how u accomplished that...there are so many stunning lines in here and i loved all the things risa quoted they took my breath away. u are incredible!!!

Oh this is so gorgeous!! I love the way you described the island, and Joshua's fascination with mortality/Seungcheol felt so true to the original text. I was feeling sooo fond by the end, could read a whole novel about this cheolshua hahhaha. think my favorite line is when you described the plants like bangles of green - just delicious imagery AHHHhh, I'm so happy you filled this thank you!!

AHHHHKFKJK wow this is so cool, what a delicious glimpse into these dynamics... I love the background drift compatible soonwoo + the initial descriptions of Mingyu + THE JUNHAO!!
Mingyu has a face made for history - thanks I am wrecked!
The way Seokmin must be beaten physically + Minghao must be beaten mentally, in order to gain their dual respect, is so clever. The moment Mingyu looks up feels super charged I was just !!! yelling!
+ the hate he holds for Mingyu begins to flutter, shapeshifting into something that resembles respect. - this is such a visceral way to describe it, I'm entranced by your imagery but especially here, thank you for writing this!!

Ship/Member: Gen
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Permission to remix: Yes

***

OP you sniped me so hard tenipuri was my childhood obsession and I've been thinking about this since November (WAVES)

(click to expand!)

It's on twitter here!

Edited 2021-01-22 02:54 (UTC)

losing my mind at all of this, truly
thank you for bringing this svtennis into existence

Ahhh!!!! Hello!!! You're welcome!! And thank you right back!! I've read the Jeon Zone so a lot of the Doubles 2 history took their roots a /long/ time ago, and I'm also a fan of your tinhat and meta so!!! You are honestly an honorary godparent of this AU haha

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Page 4 of 7

Round 2: Alternate Universes

Re: [FILL] the only person standing in your way is

Re: [FILL] went looking for a creation myth

Re: [FILL] elysium

Re: [FILL] went looking for a creation myth

Re: [FILL] fishing the sun out of the sky

Re: [FILL] went looking for a creation myth

Re: [FILL] elysium

Re: [FILL] but you'll never have my heart

[FILL] you’ve got such brittle armor

Re: [FILL] you’ve got such brittle armor

Re: [FILL] but you'll never have my heart

Re: [FILL] but you'll never have my heart

Re: [FILL] but you'll never have my heart

Re: [FILL] you’ve got such brittle armor

[FILL] looking through a dusty window pane

Re: [FILL] elysium

Re: [FILL] looking through a dusty window pane

[FILL] home is an extension of the body

Re: [FILL] home is an extension of the body

Re: [FILL] home is an extension of the body

Re: [FILL] elysium

Re: [FILL] you’ve got such brittle armor

[FILL] the svt tennis match up of my dreams

Re: [FILL] the svt tennis match up of my dreams

Re: [FILL] the svt tennis match up of my dreams