Status: CLOSED
This round has closed. It remains open for fills and comments, but prompts are no longer accepted.
Seventeen Holidays
Round 4: Who, Where, When
About
Sounds like a Cluedo accusation or bad homework from a Creative Writing class, but don’t let the simplicity of this theme fool you. Places can shape a character’s behaviour, time can be telling of intention. The combination of both raises a question that can only be answered by the filler - what are they doing?
Examples
Jeongcheol burnout
Who: Seungcheol /& Jeonghan
Where: In the company van, Jakarta
When: After the concert, 191116
What is home to Joshua Hong?
Who: Joshua/Any
Where: Gas station in Nevada
When: 2am
Seokhan Reincarnation
Who: Seokmin/Jeonghan + a Hoshi cameo please
Where: A space ship orbiting Jupiter
When: Their third lifetime
Rules
- Sign up is not required.
- Fills have a minimum of 400 words for prose, haiku-length for poetry (3 lines), and 400px by 400px for art (memes are also art). Other mediums are fine too!
- There is no maximum cap.
- Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest).
- NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged
- NSFW art should not be visible. Please provide a link to the art. You may crop the artwork and embed a SFW preview.
How it works
Prompting
- Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post;
- Change the subject 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!
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
Filling with art/media
- Do the same as above, also;
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- Insert the link to your work, done!
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to speak your grief
Additional Tags: nostalgia and grief, letting go
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Wonwoo
Where: at the Wind Telephone, Otsuchi, Japan
When: Sunrise
[FILL]: Until You Smile
Major Tags: Major Character Death
Additional Tags: Survivor Guilt, Yearning, Angst
Permission to remix: Please ask
- 1.1k
- Teen and Up
- Please check the tags !
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296713
[FILL] to tame the beast we call grief
Major Tags: major character death (implied)
Additional Tags: grief, heartache, coming to terms with loss, studio ghibli au if u squint
Permission to remix: please ask
***
Le vent se lève!
Il faut tenter de vivre!
— Paul Valéry
(TRANSLATION: The wind is rising! We must try to live!)
—
“Um, hi.”
Wonwoo feels stupid. He’s talking into a telephone in a phone booth with no destination.
They said it would help, except Wonwoo doesn’t really know who “they” are. Only that it would help. And he doesn’t know how exactly it’s supposed to help either but he thinks it probably has to do with the act of talking to someone. Talking to anyone, really.
Wonwoo doesn’t do much of that anymore, just keeps himself curled tightly shut so that nothing gets in or out. It’s not that he wants it to be like that. It’s easier this way, that’s all.
He’s stopped trying to decipher who exactly he’s trying to convince with that a while back. Better not to think about it.
“Hey.” Wonwoo tries again, but the rest of words get stuck in his throat, burrs sticking stubbornly, scratching his esophagus on their way out.
The things he’s never said, the things he’s always wanted to say: they all share the same fate anyways, soft hopeful things, fluttering around trapped inside his ribcage.
He used to tie them down with weights, his thoughts. He used to hold them down tightly, used to draw them close and keep them, lock and key, all bundled up and tidied away. Then Soonyoung had gone and lifted the gates, encouraging Wonwoo to set them free and showed him how to put them outside his body for the entire world to see. Coaxed them out of Wonwoo, one by one, bit by bit.
Wonwoo-yah, tell me about your day.
I like the way you think. I wish the world could hear what you have to say.
Say that again? Come on, no, really, I want to try and understand it, don’t laugh at me!
An ache spears his chest. An open wound, as fresh as the day he got it. Wonwoo wipes at his cheeks, horrified to find them already wet with tears.
Being in love felt like a dream, this wondrous beacon of light, everything warm tinted and rosy-hued.
Being without his love is terrifying.
Everyday Wonwoo wakes up and forgets where he is, and for one wonderful moment, he’s still in that dream. Then time trips him up by the ankles. Lets reality smother him, for the memories come flooding back. Wonwoo wakes up in the dark with a body so heavy and a heart so full of grief that instinctively, immediately, he knows that he is alone. So horribly, terribly alone.
He looks down, phone in hand, another listlessly flipping through the memo pad, looking at everybody else’s words for their loved ones. Unable to form his own.
His shoulders slump.
It’s supposed to help, but it doesn’t. Not for him, anyways. He’s struck by a familiar shame, the kind that comes up when things that are supposed to work for everyone else never seem to work for you.
Loneliness comes bubbling to the surface again, sharp and sticky and cloying. So palpable that Wonwoo can feel it between his fingers, insistent against his shoulders. It continues to drive that wedge that sits between him and the rest of the world a little bit deeper.
Wonwoo hangs up and goes home.
The line swings wildly. It’s the only sign that he was ever there at all.
—
Here’s the thing about grief: no one ever teaches you how to handle it.
—
Hansol had slipped the brochure into Wonwoo’s hands, eyes gentle, voice even gentler. “It’ll be good for you,” he says, finally, when Wonwoo meets his gaze.
For the briefest of moments, there is nothing but the sharp sting of betrayal. I would have never expected you, out of all people —
Then the relief comes pouring in, heavy, so unbelievably heavy that Wonwoo nearly buckles under the weight of it all. It’s a relief that comes from a place of recognition. Of being known. Of being seen, despite all the mourning and hurting and bleeding from the inside out. That someone cares enough to try and help, no matter how miserable Wonwoo has made them in the tidal wave of his grief, no matter how impossible Wonwoo has made it to be around him these days.
Hansol is looking at Wonwoo carefully, teeth worrying his bottom lip, gauging his reaction. Hansol has never treated Wonwoo like a fragile thing to be fixed, has never walked around on eggshells around him. Instead, he waits and he watches and he listens.
Hansol is a good friend. One of the best, actually.
Wonwoo looks at the brochure. The feel of it in his hands, warm and crinkled, like someone had turned it over and over in their hands before handing it to him, is proof that Hansol is listening. Even if it’s never been said directly. Especially if it hasn’t been spoken aloud.
“Thank you,” Wonwoo says. Means it as he folds the brochure, carefully placing it in his breast pocket, right next to his heart. “I’ll think about it.”
Hansol smiles. “Good. It’s all I’m asking you to do.”
—
It’s a telephone booth overlooking the sea.
Speak your grief, the brochure says. Give your sadness a shape. Pin it down, here in this place. Leave it behind so it doesn’t follow you everywhere.
Wonwoo finds it maddening, having conversations with the wind. A dialogue is meant for two. There’s no point in talking if there’s no one waiting on the other side.
Even if he shouts, what are the chances that the response he’s looking for will make its way back to him? The answer Wonwoo wants is impossible anyways.
—
But because he wants to be better, Wonwoo tries. He goes to that little white phone booth and dials in a number he knows by heart.
Day after day after day, until it turns into weeks, and then a whole month. Every day Hansol calls to ask him how he’s doing. They end up talking about everything else for hours on end, despite the international calling fees.
When he stands there, receiver in hand, Wonwoo can never get past a shaky hello. Anything more marks him one step closer to saying goodbye, and he doesn’t want to do that either, just yet.
Just a little bit longer, Wonwoo thinks, but he has no idea who he’s talking to. Or who he’s waiting for.
—
On the last night of his trip, Wonwoo sees Soonyoung in his dreams. He knows it before the other boy appears. The stars shine brighter when Soonyoung’s is around, and in his dreams it’s no different. Effervescence is a quality of Soonyoung’s that translates effortlessly, no matter the time or circumstance — the world is sharper with him in it.
Today, when Wonwoo looks up, he’s nearly blinded.
He still isn’t prepared. The breath gets knocked out of him every time.
“Hi,” Soonyoung beams.
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything back, just desperately maps every inch of Soonyoung’s face, greedily lapping up every detail. He doesn’t know what he wants to do more: hold Soonyoung so tightly and never let go, or put at an arm’s length and continue to commit every crease, crevice, and corner to detail.
“You’re so silly,” Soonyoung puts two hands on both sides of Wonwoo’s face, eyes lovely little crescent moons. “You have to live, Wonwoo-yah. Your time doesn’t stop just because mine ran out.”
Wonwoo’s eyes are brimming with tears. “But I don’t want to. Not if I don’t have you.”
Soonyoung laughs as they begin to walk, hand in hand. The sound of it is so familiar Wonwoo’s heart splits open and patches itself up back together, in the same heartbeat. “You’re being melodramatic.”
“No I’m not,” Wonwoo shakes his head, impudent. “It’s true.”
Soonyoung pauses and stops to face him. “Brat,” he whispers softly. “You’re not making this any easier on yourself, you know.”
“I’m trying,” Wonwoo sniffles. “I’ve been trying.” I’m trying my best. I just don’t know how to go on without you. I’m too scared to leave you behind.
Soonyoung’s smile turns softer. Fond. “I know,” he steps forward to kiss Wonwoo on the cheek. “And I’m so proud of you.”
Here, Soonyoung begins to float away from Wonwoo, carried away by an invisible wind. They link fingers, just for an infinitesimal moment; Wonwoo trying with all his might to hold on, Soonyoung trying his best to give Wonwoo all the time that he can. But dreams are not made to last.
Wonwoo loses his grip, Soonyoung for a second time. The pain is more bearable this time around, though maybe it’s because Wonwoo has learned what to expect.
“Try again tomorrow!” Soonyoung calls out to Wonwoo, just as the breeze steals Soonyoung away. He disappears into the stars. “I’ll be there to listen. You know that better than anyone else, don’t you?”
—
The sun peeks over the horizon, bathing everything in a brilliant warm glow.
“Hi,” Wonwoo says again, standing in a telephone booth and speaking into a telephone that connects to nowhere. It’s not about the destination. It’s about the journey.
He closes his eyes and lets go, breathes the words out on an exhale.
“I miss you, Soonyoung. I miss you so, so much.”
The wind carries them out to sea.
—
a/n: why yes i did put the epigraph for the wind rises as the quote for this fill . one day i’ll write the full ghibli au for this but today is not that day
Re: [FILL] to tame the beast we call grief
i love this so much even though it hurts ! !! it feels like healing but also OUCh
Wonwoo loses his grip, Soonyoung for a second time. this line though....this ... ... .
Re: [FILL] to tame the beast we call grief
Re: [FILL] to tame the beast we call grief
platonic bedsharing as a language of intimacy
Additional Tags: the selfless kind of awestruck adoration when you're in love with your friends
Do Not Wants: actual romantic feelings (but a blurry line b/w platonic and romantic love would be amazing)
Who: Minghao
Where: Jun's bed, Korea
When: Chinese New Year
to meet like this
Additional Tags: slice of life
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Joshua/Vernon
Where: New York City
When: Early May
"there's something i need to tell you"
Additional Tags: touring musicians, celebrity/non-celebrity relationship(?)
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Woozi/Any
Where: backstage at a domestic tour stop
When: ten minutes before the show starts, and ten minutes after it ends
hit the road!
(Anonymous) 2021-02-08 11:09 am (UTC)(link)Additional Tags: Slice of life, friendship, missing scene
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Wonwoo & Minghao & Vernon
Where: Company car/the seaside
When: TTT 2020 day one
it's essay season
Additional Tags: uni/high school au?
Do Not Wants: None
Who: 97z
Where: The Library (bonus points for silent section)
When: 3am
make a bad decision with me
Additional Tags: office/workplace au?
Do Not Wants: None
Who: maknae line :3
Where: tattoo parlour
When: lunch break
i just love love
Additional Tags: fluff? make me believe in love again? of you could go angsty and play with my heart
Do Not Wants: None
Who: 95 line
Where: wedding reception (doesn't have to be any of them marrying)
When: just when everyone is tipsy but not drunk (4pm?)
[Fill] : I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance~
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Weddings!!! And confettiiii (not in fic but there's lots of it on the floor, I promise!), short!!, cute!!!, wistful (author also loves love), No Angst.
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
"They're so cute aren't they?" Joshua leaned against Jeonghan's side and sipped on his flute of champagne.
Jeonghan slipped his arm around his waist and laughed softly. "Just as cute as they were five seconds ago."
"Sshhh–" Joshua pressed his finger to Jeonghan's lips– "Sshh and look at them."
Jeonghan looked. Seokmin and Pauline hadn't let go of each other since the priest had said 'you may now kiss the bride', and they both looked radiant, twirling around the dance floor. Every so often they'd lean in for a kiss, and they were honestly the cutest couple that Jeonghan had ever seen.
"They're adorable."
"I know," Joshua murmured, "Cheol-ah, look how cute they are."
Seungcheol held three glasses high above his head as he squeezed through the crowd towards them.
"Cheol-ah! Look at how cute they are!"
"What?" Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and swapped Joshua's flute for a full one, handing an other to Jeonghan and magically getting rid of Joshua's old glass.
"Look at Seokminnie and Pauline." Joshua leaned up to enunciate loudly into Seungcheol's face and he just grinned, and pecked him on the forehead.
"You're so love lorn."
"You're just as bad."
"As you? That's impossible, Shua," Jeonghan said with a smile, but he kissed his cheek so Joshua didn't really mind. "You're broody but not for kids, for marriages."
"What can I say? I just love love."
"HYUNGS!" Seokmin shouted from the centre of the dance floor. "HYUNGS!"
Jeonghan turned to Seungcheol, "Does he mean us?"
"YES I MEAN YOU!"
"He can't possible mean us, can he, Shua?"
Seokmin shook his head and his family laughed behind their glasses.
"HYUNGS!"
Joshua pushed Seungcheol and Jeonghan ahead of him onto the dance floor, "No need to be so loud, Minnie, really. We're not deaf yet."
Seokmin grinned, the grin of a satisfied shark, "Hi everyone!"
A chorus of hellos echoed back at him.
"As you know, I got married today, can we have a round of applause for my WIFE?"
Enthused round of applause.
"Thank you thank you, I'm so lucky. Now, one or two of you might know that I'm in an–" he paused and wiggled his hips– "idol group."
Laughter.
"If you didn't, we're Seventeen, and we're here–" he paused dramatically and then grinned with relish, "All Night! Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, let's hear it for me! I mean us! Seventeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!!!!!"
They sang their hits. And then they sang Pauline's favourite song, and then half of them burst into tears because Seokmin was just too adorable and he was the first to get married, and Pauline was so sweet and the wedding was so perfect and—
"I think you're done," Seungcheol reeled Joshua in by the waist and wrapped his arms around him, "You're such a sap, you know that?"
Jeonghan handed him a handkerchief and Joshua dabbed his eyes.
"They're so in love."
"Yeah," Seungcheol's response was soft and wistful, "They are, aren't they."
///
I could go on but I smell angst so I'm CUTTING MYSELF OFF.
For my dear cryptid and for my dear sonder, both of whom I keep torturing with Evil Writing.
Consider it a peace offering.
Rose xx
Re: [Fill] : I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance~
I LOVE THIS ;____;
the potentially mournful ending and Seokmin being a bundle of joy this truly had it all !!
thank you thank you thank you !
Re: [Fill] : I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance~
are we still into royalty aus?
Additional Tags: royalty au? historical au? fantasy ?!?
Do Not Wants: None
Who: 96 line
Where: training yard
When: a midnight in winter
Tea.
Additional Tags: Nail varnish? Porcelain? Pastels? French twists and Jackie O sunglasses? If you give me gender swap I may potentially cry.
Do Not Wants: Poison.
Who: Jun
Where: Paris
When: 2020s but styled like it's the 1920s
They say Confucius does his crosswords with a pen
Additional Tags: grey raindrops sliding down the window of a bus, tulips
Do Not Wants: anything to be seriously wrong (so: no illnesses, no disasters. just... the passing of time and its (opt:) upsetting motions)
Who: Chan, Soonyoung, or both
Where: 20 minutes from Home
When: 5.30 pm, a Wednesday in March
Lavender and Bergamot
Additional Tags: oh, we're the grown ups; of course we're the grown ups; essential oils
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Wonwoo, Joshua, Jeonghan (platonic? romantic? work colleagues? go wild)
Where: In the middle of a department store
When: Early morning, low footfall
tragic comedy
(Anonymous) 2021-02-09 03:10 am (UTC)(link)Additional Tags: We Need To Break Up (Our Comedy Duo)
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Soonyoung, Wonwoo
Where: Outside the door of Soonyoung's apartment in Osaka
When: A rainy night
1 + 1
Additional Tags: Idolverse
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Junhui
Where: Shenzhen
When: Post-disbandment
un coup de foudre
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: none, feel free to flip the script
Who: Mingyu/Any
Where: a rooftop in Paris
When: the worst night of his life
bread
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Seungkwan
Where: the kitchen
When: the morning after
FILL: one more time, please
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: post-hook up; exes
Permission to remix: Yes
fulfilling my yearly exes 17hols fill quota
***
Discomfort casts an uncertain light over the kitchen table and sticks to the soles of Seungkwan’s feet like stray grains of rice. The consistent bzzt bzzt bzzt of a cell phone that doesn't belong to him is what propels him out of bed, seconds from punting it through the window. Instead, he picks up his own phone.
can u stop calling. u know exactly where he is
and no i don't want to talk about it yet
It’s no surprise that Mingyu is up and moving before Seungkwan has even so much has brushed his teeth. Even when they were together, he was like this. Awake at the crack of dawn, no matter what time he'd fallen asleep.
It's like all of that energy his big body produces can't find somewhere to go. Seungkwan found it endearing not even six whole months ago. Now, he still stands stock still at the edge of the room. There are two halves of his exhausted whole, one side feeling lingering arousal and the other annoyed.
It’s a mixed bag of emotions, watching Mingyu move like he still belongs here. When the last box had been picked up, Seungkwan had strewn the entire contents of the kitchen shelves onto the tiny counter space. Changed the orientation of their—his—bedroom. Gotten piss-drunk, called Joshua to try to convince him to redecorate his living room. Spent too much money on Coupang trying to create distance. An oasis.
Shaking the Etch-a-Sketch illusion to give himself a blank slate.
So much for that.
Mingyu jumps a little at the sight of Seungkwan standing limply in the hall, and watches Seungkwan watch him back.
“Don’t say it was a mistake.”
Brows furrowed, posture suddenly ramrod straight, Mingyu turns his attention back to the stone bowl on the cooktop. “It didn’t feel wrong to me.”
Homemade rice wine and distance doesn't pair well with well-placed compliments and a tactile love language, and Mingyu is here, shirtless in Seungkwan’s apartment, pink lines etched into his shoulder blades. (They’re broken up, but he’s not so dead to not still be attracted to him physically.)
Seungkwan saunters past him and reaches past Mingyu for the cabinets, pulling out two bowls. “I wasn’t going to say it was a mistake.”
Yes, he was. The side eye that Mingyu throws in his direction is knowing, and Seungkwan raises his hands in defeat.
“Okay, you got me,” he concedes. Metal chopsticks clatter inside of the ceramics. “We didn’t exactly end things amicably.”
The expressions that dance across Mingyu's face are a kaleidoscope. Little fractured emotions before he lands on something more somber.
“You said you still loved me.” A little wistful.
And that's the thing, isn't it? Love cannot be destroyed, only remade or moved in part to something else. It's not none or all, but more like an elementary school math equation.
If you spend six years of your life with someone and love them with your whole heart, how much love are they left with even after they break the lease?
Seungkwan coughs, turning away as he does before moving to rifle through the fridge. Heat prickles up his spine.
“Do you want to try the ginger tea I made?”
Re: FILL: one more time, please
Re: FILL: one more time, please
consider the groupie!
Additional Tags: intense audience to band member eye contact
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Wonwoo
Where: in the mosh pit
When: just before too many drinks
FILL: we look like lightning
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe – Rock Band
Permission to remix: Yes
darn you. Song titles, band name, and lyrics all borrowed from The Wonder Years.
***
Wonwoo arrives at the venue alone, first beer half-drunk before he even makes it to barricade. Probably a bad idea, but he hangs off to the left side, just close enough to the side to duck in and out as needed but still in view of the side that he knows the vocalist tends to favor.
Burst and Decay announcing dates so soon after returning from the States was a surprise – an unwelcome assault on his bank account so soon after paying rent – but he's ready. They're playing a full album set, with his favorite song at the beginning. He still gets chills when the lights go down. Like it's his first time seeing the band and not his seventh, but when he comes into view from behind the collected smoke, it feels like–
The crowd splits and he's pushed into the throng of moving bodies. The beer bottle cracks as it hits the ground but the glass spills and twinkles like stars on the ground as the red and blue house lights sway, making the bodies around him look blurry. Could also be his glasses fogging up.
Limbs swing and his heart pounds and he keeps moving, elated laughter the guitars soar. Electricity in his blood at the line "I was born to run" and every person around him raises their hands to the stage, a congregation reaching out for salvation in song.
The night continues, and sweat collects in a puddle on the back of his shirt, staining his pits.
("Jesus Christ, I'm 26, all the people I graduated with all have kids, all have wives, all have people who care when they come home at night–")
Two beers and five songs in, the vocalist S.Coups makes his way toward the barricade during the swell of the song. By some stroke of luck, it's Wonwoo's hand that he reaches out for and sings the line, "You were the Northern lights in a southern town" to and in those warm brown eyes, he almost drowns. And S.Coups drifts away, carried back by the crowd, their hands coming unstuck with sweat as the crowd sings the chorus.
He slinks away for beer three, hanging off near the back for the rest of the show. He won’t get a moment better than holding S.Coups’ hand during “Cardinals.” Maybe a part of him is delusional, but he thinks he sees him double-take at the front of the stage like the singer is looking for him.
--
Burst and Decay closes with “Came Out Swinging” as is custom. Wonwoo’s had too many beers for the pit to be a good idea, but he says fuck it for old time’s sake and dives in.
Later, in the merch line, there’s excitement as he gets closer to the front. He doesn’t know what the big deal is about some dude in a hoodie. Until he makes it up to the table to pick up his vinyl.
“Hey. I held your hand during ‘Cardinals’ right?” S.Coups asks, pointing at Wonwoo like he’s trying to place him.
“Th’was me,” he fumbles, and the singer laughs.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, leaning down to sign the record. “I’m Seungcheol.”
“Wonwoo.”
He notices a phone number scrawled onto a download card shoved into the sleeve in the cab ride home.
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
god wtf carina. why do you do this every single time...
this is so tender and sweet and your writing is so atmospheric it felt like i was visibly present in this moment! gosh, scoups holding wonwoo's hand, then remembering wonwoo at the end of the night, the mask of celebrity slipping to reveal just another regular boy who held another cute boy's hand :( i love love love it so much i am forever in awe of the way you infuse music into stories and into romance and make them read x1000 more poignant... wow wow wow
lots of love,
ro 💕
Re: FILL: we look like lightning
what do i call you
Additional Tags: eternal sunshine of the spotless mind au
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Jeonghan
Where: memory erasure firm Lacuna, Inc
When: after a breakup
I do receive your offer’d love like love
Additional Tags: hamlet au
Do Not Wants: None
Who: Seokmin
Where: The throne room in Elsinore
When: After receiving a fencing challenge
[FILL] his will is not his own
Major Tags: Major character death
Additional Tags: Hamlet au, Hamlet Seokmin, Laertes Mingyu
Permission to remix: Yes
***
“Give me your pardon,” the prince begs, his chest rising and falling. “I’ve done you wrong.”
Then Seokmin proceeds to embark on one of his lengthy soliloquies, performing, as always, for the world at large. His eyes are wide in an obnoxious act of innocence as he pleads to the throne room, to the chandeliers, his brows knitting together in false sincerity, his voice rising. Always so melodramatic. He keeps his hand tight around Mingyu’s in a handshake that he has decided to use for his own benefit, his own advancement. Tight enough that it hurts.
Mingyu keeps his own other hand— his left one, his dominant one, the one that is wrapped around his foil and not Seokmin’s fingers— tight behind his back. Seokmin’s words were at first meant for Mingyu, but by now they are meant only for himself. Still, when the monologue of bullshit comes to a grand closing, Mingyu, his face blank as the black walls of the throne room, replies.
“I do receive your offered love like love, and will not wrong it.”
Seokmin stills for a rare second then smiles his pretty smile, wide and breaking as if he’s close to tears with utter gratitude. Mingyu’s stomach curdles helplessly. There’s been a phantom ache in his side lately. It digs into his liver. He knows the things his dead father has long said about him. The things Seokmin still says about him. Mingyu is rash. He is impetuous. And when he looks at Seokmin, he sees through the ghost of the prince’s act and feels the hatred underneath.
And it burns because, despite all of it, Mingyu wants to be looked at kindly. Once they were playmates. Once Seokmin would have cried into his shoulder, would have let Mingyu stroke his hair and say, Don’t cry, be strong, it isn't your fault. Now Mingyu can’t recognize the man before him and is the worse for it.
“Come, let us begin,” the prince says.
Jeonghan, a fool only for the prince, runs to hand him his mask. Mingyu takes his own from Seungkwan. They take five paces away from each other. The king talks loudly about trumpets and a toast. Seokmin calls over his shoulder, smiling from one side of his mouth rakishly, “I’ll be your foil, Mingyu, in terms of skill. You’ll make a fool out of me yet.”
“You mock me, my lord,” Mingyu says flatly.
But Seokmin’s right. Mingyu knows all the different ways the eight parries or a passata sotto or a flèche might burn in the thighs. What Mingyu isn’t naturally good at, he’s worked towards. It makes what is out of reach— like the way Seokmin smiles at Jeonghan or how he is able to evade any consequences of his own fucking actions— that much more unbearable.
“En garde. Pret. Allez!”
Their foils scrape against each other. He sees Seokmin’s face through the mesh of his mask. Under the cover, Seokmin has retreated to his basest feelings. The flatness of his eyes and the pure hard hatred in his face catches Mingyu off guard, somehow, and Seokmin lunges viper fast and catches the back of his thigh.
“One,” Seokmin says, his teeth bared.
“No,” Mingyu snarls, even though it’s a hit, a very palpable hit, as Soonyoung announces, and Seokmin goes over to Jeonghan beaming to bask in the sun for a bit. The king offers him a cup of wine. Seokmin denies him, eager only to taste further victory.
They start again. Mingyu on the offense now, pushing back against Seokmin too hard, the cloud of his fury making his muscles tight and his aim more malice than accuracy. He lunges and lunges. Seokmin parries, feints, spins and catches Mingyu's shoulder and whoops.
“Another hit!”
“A touch,” Mingyu says, gritting his teeth, “a touch. I confess it.”
The queen toasts his victory and drinks, to the dismay of the king. It’s the poisoned cup. The one meant for Seokmin.
“Oh, come now, then, friend,” Seokmin says loudly, grinning. He’s taken his mask off and his face glows as he pushes his sweat-rumpled curls away from his forehead. Something in him has changed since he’s returned from England. The only thing that hasn’t is how he’s been looking at Mingyu in the last few months. Mocking him, seeing through him as if Mingyu is nothing, as if Mingyu’s own pain and grief amount to dust. “You’re only dallying. You think I can’t tell when you’re holding back? When you’re treating me like a child? You think I don’t know?”
Seokmin is not a child anymore. He only holds vicious contempt for Mingyu. “No, my lord,” Mingyu growls, then gives no time to Seokmin to pull his mask back on before he charges again.
The more Seokmin whoops and laughs and dances away, the more some third broken foil digs into Mingyu’s side. Seokmin’s bare face is pinballing between joy and irritation, like Mingyu and the quarter-centimeter tip of his foil represent nothing but a small stupid pawn on the chessboard of Seokmin's life. This is no more than a passing distraction.
But Mingyu is more than that. What Seokmin has been handed and has squandered away is what Mingyu can hold between his hands. The driving force of revenge. Seokmin is wasting his chances away in the sun and Mingyu has somewhere been relegated to the eternal shade, still burdened, still willing to fight. Always willing to fight. Mingyu grows sloppy in each desperate lunge, in each compulsive attempt to make Seokmin see how he can injure and maim and draw blood. In each attempt to make Seokmin see him.
As always, it comes to nothing. Seokmin is just out of reach, patronizing, forever laughing.
“Nothing neither way,” Soonyoung announces. “Pull them apart.” Seokmin turns around to face Jeonghan, already drunk off the victory of evasion.
As long as he has lived, Mingyu has held a belief that running away is no bravery. Inaction is cowardice. He cannot be proven wrong. Not here, not now. He won’t allow it. All of his successes in life will amount to nothing if he fails to make the prince look at him, if he is not the final arbitrator in that very prince’s fate. He will put the fear of himself in Seokmin. He pulls his mask off and lets it drop to the floor. No one is looking at him. Everyone is looking at Seokmin.
“Have at you now,” Mingyu says, jagged as he walks forward. Then he slashes his foil along the back of Seokmin’s neck.
Seokmin doesn’t gasp. He stumbles and lets out a breath, a low and surprised huh, his hand going to his wound, his mouth slack in shock.
“Nay, come again,” he says, his voice deep with fury.
Then he turns and comes at Mingyu.
Mingyu thinks of that day so long ago. The banquet. The crown prince in all black, a color most unlike him. The unshed tears that made his eyes glitter, how he kept his anger and his grief coiled tight inside of him. Perhaps he was afraid of it. But when he came to say goodbye to Mingyu, something in his face cracked clean. He was a pretty crier. Maybe things would have turned out differently inside of Seokmin if he hadn’t let his own indecisiveness and his own endless fears poison all his kind and gentle parts. Whose fault was that? His? Or his circumstances?
Regardless, now his face is fixed in fury. In the scuffle he gets his hand on Mingyu’s foil. To their right the queen collapses, but Seokmin keeps coming, finally, finally bent on revenge. A revenge most inconsequential now, but revenge all the same. Mingyu did that. Mingyu pushed him to it. Seokmin lunges and surges forward like the ocean, like the water, endless, and now there’s only him, his eyes blazing.
He holds the blade against Mingyu’s neck. He holds it steady for one, two seconds, staring up at Mingyu, seeing him. Mingyu’s skin prickles against the cold and from the depth of feeling in his prince’s eyes.
Then Seokmin slashes hard, and Mingyu is justly undone by his own blade.
“Treachery,” Seokmin says softly, not knowing the same poison courses through both of them.
“Seokmin,” Mingyu says, stumbling. He drops to his knees and looks up at the prince. The throne room is blurring at its edges. “You’re slain. No medicine in the world will do you good. My own revenge has turned on me.”
He can’t tell, then, what is in Seokmin’s face. If it matters at all. If his own death will matter. But he reaches up towards Seokmin’s hand, desperate, and Seokmin lets him hold it and stares down at him, his brow troubled, his eyes shining as everything around him dims.
“Forgive me, noble prince,” Mingyu whispers. He is glad he will not be alive to see Seokmin’s death. “Neither of us are to blame.”
***
Re: [FILL] his will is not his own
- Seokmin proceeds to embark on one of his lengthy soliloquies, performing, as always, for the world at large.
MAN, i know u mentioned sometimes feeling for laertes and like holy shit, when we're looking at mingyu's perspective now, seokmin really is just like some melodramatic asshole kid who killed his father and broke his sister's heart and Still hasn't avenged his own father's death (mingyu being like let Me show you what it actually means to avenge a death, let me move you to action finally)
- Mingyu keeps his own other hand— his left one, his dominant one, the one that is wrapped around his foil and not Seokmin’s fingers— tight behind his back.
"THIS PICTURE REMINDS ME OF WHEN HAMLET AND LAERTES WERE FENCING. IN THIS PICTURE IT SORT OF REPRESENTS LAERTES HIDING THE FACT THAT HIS SWORD WAS POISONED SO HE COULD KILL HAMLET." ?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!
- There’s been a phantom ache in his side lately. It digs into his liver.
Not the resentment [hell nah they hurt spunch bobs feelings]
- And it burns because, despite all of it, Mingyu wants to be looked at kindly. Once they were playmates. Once Seokmin would have cried into his shoulder, would have let Mingyu stroke his hair and say, Don’t cry, be strong, it isn't your fault. Now Mingyu can’t recognize the man before him and is the worse for it.
iM SCREAMING!!!!!!!!! MINGYU WANTS TO BE LOOKED AT KINDLY, WELL LOOK AT HOW HARD I CAN CRY. the childhood friends to enemies of it all and also the growing up and only knowing someone in the past and they're a stranger to you in the present
- Jeonghan, a fool only for the prince, runs to hand him his mask.
i am yelling at jeonghan horatio, a fool only for the prince, i am [screams]
- What Mingyu isn’t naturally good at, he’s worked towards. It makes what is out of reach— like the way Seokmin smiles at Jeonghan or how he is able to evade any consequences of his own fucking actions— that much more unbearable.
oh my god!! hard work vs talent/what you're born with narrative, i Can't Believe
- He keeps his hand tight around Mingyu’s in a handshake that he has decided to use for his own benefit, his own advancement. Tight enough that it hurts.
- Seokmin stills for a rare second then smiles his pretty smile, wide and breaking as if he’s close to tears with utter gratitude.
- And when he looks at Seokmin, he sees through the ghost of the prince’s act and feels the hatred underneath.
- Seokmin calls over his shoulder, smiling from one side of his mouth rakishly
- Under the cover, Seokmin has retreated to his basest feelings. The flatness of his eyes and the pure hard hatred in his face catches Mingyu off guard
- “One,” Seokmin says, his teeth bared.
ur descriptions of seokmin are so sexy thank u so much. a really really sweet guy who ONLY hates you, Yeah
- THE DUEL, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE SUN AND THE SHADE, THE CONTRASTS!!! SEOKMIN EASILY WINNING POINTS AND MINGYU TRYING HIS BEST BUT STILL FAILING???
- The unshed tears that made his eyes glitter, how he kept his anger and his grief coiled tight inside of him. Perhaps he was afraid of it. But when he came to say goodbye to Mingyu, something in his face cracked clean. He was a pretty crier. Maybe things would have turned out differently inside of Seokmin if he hadn’t let his own indecisiveness and his own endless fears poison all his kind and gentle parts. Whose fault was that? His? Or his circumstances?
god, i am [holds head in hands] seokmin hamlet, yeah... Yeah... thinking about hamlet before his father's death and before his grief... yeahhhhh
- mingyu being the one to push seokmin to revenge, i'm okn't
- He can’t tell, then, what is in Seokmin’s face. If it matters at all. If his own death will matter. But he reaches up towards Seokmin’s hand, desperate, and Seokmin lets him hold it and stares down at him, his brow troubled, his eyes shining as everything around him dims.
“Forgive me, noble prince,” Mingyu whispers. He is glad he will not be alive to see Seokmin’s death. “Neither of us are to blame.”
MAN. also oh my god seokmin holding mingyu's hand in a handshake before the duel and now seokmin letting mingyu hold his hand as mingyu dies
i am not okay, thank you so much for writing this, ur brain is massive and i am in awe
Re: [FILL] his will is not his own
Re: [FILL] his will is not his own
- And it burns because, despite all of it, Mingyu wants to be looked at kindly. Once they were playmates. Once Seokmin would have cried into his shoulder, would have let Mingyu stroke his hair and say, Don’t cry, be strong, it isn't your fault. Now Mingyu can’t recognize the man before him and is the worse for it. IM GOJNG TO RIP OUT MY HAIR . there is something very important to me about time becoming a placeholder for the people that u knew/u were and using it to compare to the person that stands before u now.... esp the last line like it strikes such a chord in me......... remembering someone so kind and not being able to recognize any bit of who they were to u.... and having that person be seokmin.....
- What Mingyu isn’t naturally good at, he’s worked towards
mingyu good boy-isms.
- “You’re only dallying. You think I can’t tell when you’re holding back? When you’re treating me like a child? You think I don’t know?” SO ANGRY AND RAW . i think this made me gasp its so spicie.... the you think i dont know? i can’t tell?? mingyu being read to filth
- REVENGE WRITTEN BY YOU IS SO DELIGHTFUL . THE ENTIRE EXCHANGE GOING ON IN MINGYUS HEAD WHEN SEOKMINS BACK IS TURNED TO HIM I FEEL INSANE
- “Treachery,” Seokmin says softly, not knowing the same poison courses through both of them. yoooo whag the fuckck
- “Forgive me, noble prince,” Mingyu whispers. He is glad he will not be alive to see Seokmin’s death. “Neither of us are to blame.” YOO WHAT THE FUCK........... . the way i sensed love bleeding into the hatred in there.... yeah.....
thank u as always
Re: [FILL] his will is not his own
Re: [FILL] his will is not his own
tangent but now i'm just thinking about how hamlet feigns madness and how SEOKMIN would have had to feign madness and the whole debate over whether it really is fake because!! one of my favourite little seokmin paradoxes is that he's a brilliant actor but he's also really honest and open in normal life so how much is he faking it? what's real and what isn't?
jeonghan's only a fool for seokmin!!!! i don't know if this was deliberate or not but it just reminded me of seokhan's routine where jeonghan asks seokmin who he's a fool for and seokmin says he's only a fool for jeonghan hyung and!!! the REVERSAL of that!!! the TENDERNESS of it!!! jeonghan horatio is something i never would have considered and now i think i need to lie down
And when he looks at Seokmin, he sees through the ghost of the prince’s act and feels the hatred underneath. GHOSTS!!!!!!!!
And it burns because, despite all of it, Mingyu wants to be looked at kindly. Once they were playmates. Once Seokmin would have cried into his shoulder, would have let Mingyu stroke his hair and say, Don’t cry, be strong, it isn't your fault. Now Mingyu can’t recognize the man before him and is the worse for it. oh my god. ki. i am WOUNDED.
It makes what is out of reach— like the way Seokmin smiles at Jeonghan or how he is able to evade any consequences of his own fucking actions— that much more unbearable. YOU'RE INSANE (affectionate)
ok sorry i'm back here again because WOW what a way to capture what it's like to desire someone - or rather, to want to be desired by someone - while also recognising their shortcomings and also being insanely jealous that they're desired and revered and even LOOKED at. because he wants seokmin to look at him but he also just wants SOMEONE to look at him. fuck!!
The only thing that hasn’t is how he’s been looking at Mingyu in the last few months. Mocking him, seeing through him as if Mingyu is nothing, as if Mingyu’s own pain and grief amount to dust. ahhhhhh. see the grief is really interesting because you know. to recognise your own feelings in someone you hate is to recognise that they are CAPABLE of feeling that. and then what does it say about you. hmmmmm.
No one is looking at him. Everyone is looking at Seokmin. normally that would anger mingyu but in the context!!! aaaaaah!!!
He was a pretty crier. Maybe things would have turned out differently inside of Seokmin if he hadn’t let his own indecisiveness and his own endless fears poison all his kind and gentle parts. Whose fault was that? His? Or his circumstances? JESUS
“Forgive me, noble prince,” Mingyu whispers. He is glad he will not be alive to see Seokmin’s death. “Neither of us are to blame.” WHAT A HORRIBLE WAY TO END. I AM A WRECK. A SHELL OF A MAN.
seokmin hamlet is going to curse me for real... just the whole thing of indecisiveness and uncertainty and carrying the burden of Avenging Your Father when that probably isn't even what you want to be doing and feeling betrayed by literally everyone in your life. oof! and aaaah the seokgyuisms of it all,, the way they're in similar situations and are similar enough to recognise the worst parts of themselves in each other but are also different enough that they can't recognise each other and thus hate each other even more EVEN THOUGH there is a ghost of some scrap of connection that tethered them years before,, perfect as always. how do you get this right literally every time. gaaaaah