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Round 2: Alternate Universes
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Status: Closed
Seventeen Holidays
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
How it works
Prompting
Filling
Filling with art/media
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bond girl seokmin
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: spies and assassins, casino royale, put them in tuxes
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt: heavily, heavily inspired by this tweet
not at all too familiar with 007 but i just think seokmin as a bond girl would be fantastic. maybe grand casino floors and open bars and dk as a lounge singer, crooning in the background while the job takes place. i came up with this mainly for the idea of thigh holsters and various blades hidden across seokmin's body (the idea of appearing gentle on the surface but with a darker danger running undercurrent if you really looked close, like if you got too close to touch you'd draw back and find yourself covered in blood, too). i think seokmin is written as kind very often so i am a big fan of letting him be cunning and powerful and sexy!!!!!!
also if u wanted to get caught up in the 97z of it all would u consider: seokgyu rivals who have thwarted each other at various turns, only to become reluctant teammates when they realize that their love (minghao, who has the both of them wrapped around his fingers) has become the target [so like a mr. and mrs. smith au also ensues]
[FILL] but you'll never have my heart
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: bond AU, lounge singer seokmin
Permission to remix: Yes
***
“Twenty four million in the pot already,” Jeonghan says, staticky through the earpiece. It’s obvious he’s trying to hide a smile. “Thought you were slated for surveillance tonight, 007?”
Mingyu doesn’t respond.
A: He’s staring right at Xu Minghao across the poker table because the croupier’s laid down a river card and Minghao’s just raised, gone all-in with twelve million, and Mingyu has thirty seconds tops to call his bluff or make his own move.
B: He’s done surveillance already, and he knows Jeonghan knows this, too. So, predictably, all Jeonghan is doing is gleefully poking fun at him for his current situation.
See, although the hotel ballroom is choked with bejeweled emissaries and diplomats and the just-plain-filthy rich, it was a simple enough job to pick Minghao out. What with his eye-catching grace and sleek Valentino jacket and pearls tight against his neck and all. Mingyu trailed him to the poker table. It was going fine. He had eyes on the burly blonde bodyguard on Minghao’s right. Things were planned to head south tonight with regards to that fucker.
But then, in an utterly humiliating turn of events, a few minutes before Minghao decided to throw twelve fucking million into the ring, Mingyu happened to look over at the man singing by the bar.
It was the voice that did it. An oddly familiar voice. Something Mingyu had maybe heard once in a dream or a more peaceful alternate universe, a little heartbreaking and sticky sweet, spreading like syrup under the shuffle of the chips and the croupier saying “The big blind is now one million dollars.”
And Mingyu needed, with a sort of desperation he should’ve known to avoid, to know who it was coming from.
Of fucking course he recognized Seokmin Lee.
But something about him made Mingyu’s palms sweaty all of a sudden, as if for this one night Mingyu wasn’t an MI6 agent but instead an audience member at a nightclub enthralled by a red-curtained lounge singer. It was like all the opulent light in the room had refracted off the chandeliers and Dom Perignon-filled crystal flukes and was now glittering within Seokmin as he sang, in his shimmering dusky eye makeup, in the gold choker that sat nestled above his delicate collarbone.
In the single star-shaped earring that brushed against his sharp jaw after he made direct eye contact with Mingyu and closed his eyes and reached for a high note, his face melting into some kind of ecstasy. Like he was having a fucking religious experience.
When Seokmin opened his eyes, he was smiling out of one side of his mouth. He knew Mingyu was watching. The expression looked so uncharacteristically coy on him that Mingyu had to look away real fucking fast, pretend he wasn’t flushing down to his goddamn Tom Ford silk bow tie, and think:
Well, shit.
Unfortunately, he hasn’t really been able to stop thinking that. Especially now.
Minghao is still waiting on his move. After that unfathomable twelve million dollar raise, the casino fell dead silent. Seokmin fell dead silent. This means that now Seokmin’s watching the table now. Watching Minghao. Watching—
“Focus,” Jeonghan chides softly in his earpiece. Focus. Focus. No distractions. He can’t let Minghao slip away. Not now. Not here.
Mingyu looks down at the table. Pushes his chips forward.
“Fourteen million five hundred thousand. All in.”
Murmurs ripple through the room. When Mingyu glances up again, he swallows hard in surprise. Seokmin’s standing behind Minghao’s chair, now, a single eyebrow raised. One of his long fingers, the one with a slender silver ring around it, plays with his bottom lip. He’s threatening to stretch into another arch smile.
He’s so strangely dangerous up close. His frame is so much bigger than Minghao’s. All potential energy.
Mingyu looks once and sees a pretty lounge singer with eyes that hold obscure secrets behind them. He looks again, forces himself to remember their long bruised past. Sees Seokmin as he is: a renegade for hire, always poised like a black widow, slipping into a performance of easy naïveté. His body tense and waiting, hiding no less than five blades.
Mingyu can almost feel the knife strapped against Seokmin's thigh. Mingyu has been on his knees with the cold tip of that blade flush under his chin, tilting his head up. He remembers what Seokmin told him then. That same dangerous half-smile on his face.
You should be more careful, double oh seven.
“Well,” Minghao says softly, “I think I’ll call your bluff on that one.”
Three players. Mingyu has to come out on top. The mission necessitates it.
The croupier calls the showdown. The entire room is holding its breath. Mingyu should be looking at Minghao, but he can’t stop looking at Seokmin, who is leaning forward imperceptibly into the silence, his choker glinting in new light against his throat, his eyes dancing.
He’s having fun. He’s enjoying this. Watching Mingyu squirm.
Minghao lays his cards down, and the murmuring rumbles back to life and Mingyu tears his eyes away.
Ace of Clubs and 6 of Hearts. Full house.
Seokmin smiles almost ruefully, a dimple deepening under his mouth.
“Monsieur Kim?” the croupier says.
Mingyu keeps staring into Seokmin’s eyes. Holds his half-lidded gaze for one, two, three seconds. Lays his cards down without looking away.
Five of spades and seven of spades.
The room bubbles like the overspilling fizz of champagne and bursts into applause. The croupier lays the cards down. Seokmin’s expression holds steady, which is more than a little off-putting.
“Straight flush. Monsieur Kim wins.”
Before Mingyu can even stand, the blonde bodyguard places a burly hand on Minghao’s shoulder.
“Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, a distant warning in his ear, but Mingyu is frozen, because Seokmin is still staring at him with that heavy gaze, trying to read the story.
It’s thrilling to be stared at by Seokmin. Mingyu knows him. Mingyu knows how it feels to be taken apart between Seokmin’s fingers like a puzzle.
“Mingyu, they’re standing up,” Jeonghan says, sounding as helpless as Mingyu feels. He’s feeling the cold blade against his chin. He’s feeling so many terrible and dizzying things. He stands, his hands needlessly fixing his bow tie, the chatter in the room all dull and fuzzy like an old radio.
Seokmin leans forward, elbows on the table. His cheekbones sharp above the shadows. Mingyu can smell his cologne.
“What’s wrong,” Seokmin whispers, one hundred percent earnest for a single precious second.
“It’s Minghao. It's- will you help me,” Mingyu murmurs.
“What the fuck are you doing,” Jeonghan hisses.
Mingyu is humbling himself. Losing his control and more than a little bit of his dignity, as he always tends to do in front of Seokmin.
“I don’t want to have to do this alone,” Mingyu admits softly. To Jeonghan, to himself.
To Seokmin.
Seokmin’s smile widens. He’s as beautiful as a lily of the valley and twice as deadly.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says.
***
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
anyways its 12am and im finally treating myself to this and i devoured it entirely
here are some notes:
- ... once in a dream or a more peaceful alternate universe, a little heartbreaking and sticky sweet, spreading like syrup one of my favorite things of all time about seokmin is his voice its rly like honey so thanks for throwing this in and stabbing me w it
- also the thing about mingyu saying dk looking like he was in ecstasy n experiencing religion.... he wanna f*ck him sooooo bad....
- god dk is so delicious thru mingyu’s pov i really have to commend u on that???? like??? help???? ( He’s so strangely dangerous up close. His frame is so much bigger than Minghao’s. All potential energy. also if this is commentart on the general broadification of svt himbo line ur doing fantastic. i too am noticing)
- mingyu Squirm. suffer for all the heartache u’ve caused me!!!
- also the brilliant pacing and interjections that jeonghan makes near the end has me also leaning on the edge of my seat anxiously awaiting for the ball to drop i thought that was super smart :’0 i couldn’t help but be there w mingyu, unsure of the next move, high stakes and all
- THIS WAS SO GOOD SERIOUSLY.
!!!;’dmfnnfhdjsjcnc there is something about seokmin bond girl that is making me so FERAL i enjoy seeing him in different masks sooooo much *____* (ie. the confidence, the dangerous, the enjoyment/amusement of making mingyu squirm yummm) u write seokmin so well (and through other povs too) and i always always always will love ur writing.... there’s nothing like it ki thank u for writing <333
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
[FILL] four in some velvet morning
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Rule 63 - Always a Different Sex, AU - Spies, they're lesbians harold, op loves killing eve
Permission to remix: No
***
Minghao’s back is turned to the stage when polite applause follows the announcement of a performance by Diana Kim, fixed on the target fifteen feet away. She has no chance at parting the crowd around Choi Seungcheol and it’s not tonight’s objective either; it’s simple reconnaissance. There’s a breathless hello as the band starts up, a jazzy number kicking off after a whispered refrain. It paints the room gold in joy, Diana starts singing, and Minghao’s blood moves through her body like slush through a garden hose in winter. She spins on her heel—Junhui’s amused snort in her ear—and that’s all the confirmation she needs.
The last time Minghao had seen Seokmin, she’d picked out a bullet from Minghao’s arm with surgical precision, tongue out between her lips, and stitched Minghao up. The pain had knocked Minghao out and she’d woken up in an empty safehouse, with only the lingering scent of Seokmin’s perfume as a reminder Seokmin was by her side and not some bloodied, haggard shade picked from her memory. That had been six months ago.
It’s not like Seokmin disappeared off the face of the earth; Minghao would wake up to presents occasionally. A bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 on the doorstep of her loft alongside a postcard from Paris, signed with the bright stamp of a lipsticked kiss. An antique diamond necklace from some countess' collection, and a headline the following day. Once, an original Monet that Minghao does not want to know the story behind.
(It hangs over her bed.)
This, Seokmin on stage, feels like one of those gifts: presented carefully with the edge of a threat, a razor embedded into the tube of her lipstick. Seokmin looks stunning, her dress a brilliant azure that puts the Santorini sky to shame, off the shoulder and flowing over her figure like a sheet of water, a high slit up her right leg. Minghao has heard her sing twice—both times in the shower—but this is incomparable, her voice clear as crystal, a siren’s song, encouraging heartbreak to follow.
“Recon’s over for the night huh?” Junhui chips in Minghao’s earpiece. “Stay safe.”
Minghao can’t even snap back at Junhui to defend herself because he’s right.
Seokmin doesn’t meet her eyes through the set—three songs—and Minghao is left wondering how much of it is genuine and how much of it is a game. Seokmin holds the last high note, the crowd erupts into genuine applause, and meets Minghao’s eyes with a smirk, satisfaction dripping from her ruby red lips.
Here is what Minghao has learnt about Seokmin: you must allow her to come to you. Press too hard, too fast and she draws into herself, holding you at a polite distance with all the frigidity of a tundra between you, if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, Seokmin’s bite is harsher than her bark, a knife slipped between your third and fourth rib with a brilliant smile.
Minghao withdraws to one of the open balconies, patient as Seokmin weaves through the crowd—her dress is apparently backless—drawing even the attention of Seungcheol himself. It’s still reconnaissance if she’s watching Seokmin easily drawing a gummy smile from Seungcheol, the way he trips over himself to assure her, his flickering gaze between her hand on his arm and her tongue over her lips as she speaks animatedly. Minghao doesn’t miss the disappointment when he asks her something and she replies, probably turning down an invitation to spend the night with him.
When Seokmin finally comes to Minghao, she takes a moment to inhale the scent that follows Seokmin: sage and sea salt.
“My love,” Seokmin smiles, stepping into Minghao’s space, reaching out. Minghao pulls her in—the moon reflecting the light of the sun—threading the fingers of her left hand with Seokmin’s right, her right going to the small of Seokmin’s back.
Seokmin giggles, and all of Minghao’s training goes out of the door, any pretense at neuroticism shattered like a hammer to glass. “May I have this dance?” Minghao asks.
“And if I say no?” Seokmin whispers.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve denied me,” Minghao shoots back. Seokmin laughs, throwing her hand back with it and Minghao wants to drag her mouth along the line of her neck, map her body like a cartographer consumed by the discovery of a new continent.
It’s almost picturesque; Minghao with a beautiful woman in her arms, dancing to the strains of an orchestra as the sun dips below the horizon. It’s almost close to love, too; Minghao and Seokmin drift apart and come back together and drift apart and come back together, it is almost bedrock in it’s certainty.
“You look good, your haircut is nice,” Seokmin compliments, the hand on her shoulder moving to the nape of Minghao’s neck. Her touch feels like a live wire against bare skin. “I haven’t seen your ears in so long, it’s cute.”
Minghao wills herself not to blush but her body is always traitorous in the presence of Seokmin, ears burning. Seokmin’s smile turns into something softer, tracing the shell of Minghao’s ear. The Seokmin you see is the Seokmin you get—gentle, charismatic, the black hole at the center of the universe everyone hurtles towards—it’s the Seokmin you don’t see that you should be worried about. It’s Seokmin leg around Minghao’s hip as Minghao dips her at the crescendo of the song, miles of tan skin, the coy smile she shoots Minghao when her hands stray too high and finds the edge of a holster strapped around Seokmin’s thigh.
The tension between them is so thick it’s in their lungs, a tangible weight like disembarking a plane in Singapore, the first drag of air into your lungs after hours of recycled, climate-controlled air. Minghao’s hand goes higher, hiking up Seokmin’s dress with it, fingers skating over the cool blade, Seokmin’s eyes boring into hers.
When they kiss, it’s like the rebound of an elastic band; two people stretched too thin with want they snap back together. Seokmin’s mouth on her is desperate as Minghao rights them both, crowding Minghao against the balustrade, hands already under Minghao’s suit jacket, too impatient to bother with unbuttoning it. Minghao pulls away and Seokmin follows, the lowest whine under her breath.
“Not here,” Minghao says firmly, tugging Seokmin’s hands away.
They manage to weave through the crowd, pausing only for Seokmin to throw a flirtatious wink over her shoulder when Seungcheol catches sight of her ruined lipstick and rumpled dress. He looks heartbroken, and Minghao is probably too smug as they trip over each other in their haste to get to Minghao’s hotel room.
The night passes in a blur, against the cool surface of a mirror, against the down of the bed, time slowing down to molasses and Seokmin’s cry of Minghao’s name.
When Minghao wakes it is slow, gradual, dreams dissolving like cotton candy on the tip of her tongue; only to flinch into awareness when her fingers glide along a blade rather than a body. Minghao sits up, sheets pooling around her waist, Seokmin’s side of the bed still warm.
Let it be said that Seokmin is generous, leaving behind gifts for Minghao. Seokmin’s lipstick is smeared across the mirror— from where Minghao had pinned her against it and kissed her neck—a deep burgundy. Seokmin’s perfume lingers over the sheets like they’ve been laundered in it—and Seokmin can be petty enough to spray her perfume over Minghao’s sheets—sage and sea salt. Seokmin’s dagger—one of them at least, is in place of her body in Minghao’s bed—excessively ornate.
Minghao has shown her hand. It's Seokmin's move again, Minghao waiting for an answer.
Re: [FILL] four in some velvet morning
Re: [FILL] four in some velvet morning
Re: [FILL] four in some velvet morning
this entire block-
This, Seokmin on stage, feels like one of those gifts: presented carefully with the edge of a threat, a razor embedded into the tube of her lipstick. Seokmin looks stunning, her dress a brilliant azure that puts the Santorini sky to shame, off the shoulder and flowing over her figure like a sheet of water, a high slit up her right leg. Minghao has heard her sing twice—both times in the shower—but this is incomparable, her voice clear as crystal, a siren’s song, encouraging heartbreak to follow.
- it makes me feel insane I wish i could articulate better about why your expensive, intimidating lesbians are bonking me so hard but this is all I have right now. thank you feeding me, this is incredible!
Re: [FILL] four in some velvet morning
i don’t think ive ever told u how much i love ur writing, im so glad i found u (and as fellow cutie gathering im extra thank u for driving me insane on the tl) <3 it makes me feel very feral in the best way bc u always write things so tenderly and full of bright sharp things.
particularly lines i enjoyed:
- with only the lingering scent of Seokmin’s perfume as a reminder Seokmin was by her side and not some bloodied, haggard shade picked from her memory.
????!?!?!?!??!!??!!!!!! the imagery is insane how do u come up with these...
- Minghao has heard her sing twice—both times in the shower i found this so brilliant . to build a relationship with so few words ... rly gave me insight as to who seokmin is (might’ve been / could be) to minghao, the intimacy of it all...
- not to be Me but seungcheol being jipped by seokmin again!!! thats the homecoming perseokhao teas It’s almost close to love, too; Minghao and Seokmin drift apart and come back together and drift apart and come back together, it is almost bedrock in it’s certainty. DEVOTION AND MARRIAGE do u know how beautiful and incredibly sexy ur venn diagram is to me. i actually . ascended and saw god for a moment it was defined so clearly and At Last I See the Light. the idea that it will always be seokmin and minghao makes me T_____T theres nothing more tender than knowing with surety that someone is the right person for u, and that every time, they will choose u (and u, them).
- The Seokmin you see is the Seokmin you get—gentle, charismatic, the black hole at the center of the universe everyone hurtles towards—it’s the Seokmin you don’t see that you should be worried about YEAH LET SEOKMIN BE SEXY 2K21!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!
god this fill was delicious in every sense of the word it felt both dangerous and tender and reminded me of red roses . i think the world of ur seokmin and im so glad u decided to take the bait that i dangled in front of u . i got u right back :))) thank u for sharing!