2022 Round 1: Quotes

[hwarium]

Status: Closed This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted. Seventeen Holidays Round 1: Quotes About "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." "What is grief, if not love persevering?" "You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath" Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. Each prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, and more. Steal from a literary classic, or WeVerse drama. Have fun! Examples Minghao + Ocean Vuong The most beautiful part of your body is where it's headed. & remember, loneliness is still time spent with the world. Ocean Vuong - night sky with exit wounds Hoshi/Anyone; "Beauty is terror" Thinking about these two quotes together and the idea of on/off-stage personas: "Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful we tremble before it. And what could be more terrifying or beautiful, to the Greeks to to our own, than to lose control completely?" - Donna Tartt, the Secret Histories "I am calm in everyday life but when I put on my in-ear device and step on stage, I can feel the tension and hear the cheers getting louder as the music gets louder. When the staff tells me it's time to step on stage, I feel something boil inside me. I feel it steaming inside and I think I have to give a burst of something, spill what is inside me." - Hoshi in Hit the Road Ep. 04 Any ship; "It's been so many years" Hello, hello there, is this Martha? This is old Tom Frost And I am calling long distance Don't worry 'bout the cost. 'Cause it's been forty years or more Now Martha please recall Meet me out for coffee Where we'll talk about it all. Tom Watts - Martha Rules Sign up is not required. Fills have a minimum of 400 words for prose, haiku-length for poetry (3 lines), and 400px by 400px for art (memes are also art). Other mediums are fine too! There is no maximum cap. Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest). NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged NSFW art should not be visible, please provide a link and a warning. You may crop the artwork and embed a SFW preview. How it works Prompting Click on [Post a New Comment] at the bottom of this post; Change the subject to something interesting; Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment and edit the sections. Feel free to add as much detail as you want! <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Do Not Wants:</strong> None <strong>Prompt:</strong> <blockquote>[QUOTE GOES HERE] </blockquote> Filling Reply to the original prompt; Change the subject to [FILL], you may add a title or stay chaotic; Copy+Paste the following HTML into your comment, edit the sections, and add your text. You may also upload your fill to the AO3 Collection. <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** Remixing Post as a reply to the fill you are remixing, using the same HTML as above; Change the subject to [REMIX]. Art/media Upload your work to any platform (twitter, imgur, youtube, soundcloud, google maps, etc.) Using the same HTML code as above, copy the link into your fill or remix. That's it! Optionally, you can embed a picture into your comment. Please use the following code instead. (To explain, the HTML resizes your picture to 400x400px so that it fits on most screens. Users can view the full size if they click on it. You can also add a link to your work on twitter so that others can share it, or to any other website you want) <strong>Ship/Member:</strong> Any <strong>Major Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Additional Tags:</strong> N/A <strong>Permission to remix:</strong> Yes/No/Please ask *** <img src="INSERT IMAGE URL" width="400px"> <a href="INSERT ANY URL YOU WANT">TEXT THAT DESCRIBES THE LINK</a> Note! On dreamwidth, you can't edit a comment once someone has replied to it. Navigation ABOUT DATES FAQ BAITS ✧ FILLS ✧ ❮ ROUND 1: QUOTES ❯ ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES ROUND 3: LAST WORDS

Comments

forgiveness.. bonk!

[capricornia]

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

Prompt:

How do you do I forgive you everything and there is nothing to forgive.
—Gertrude Stein, “Sacred Emily”

wonsol humor code

[capricornia]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Vernon
Major Tags: wonsol humor code, lyric-writing, trauma.mp3
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

In this world I often think you'd understand me
In these words I often think you'd recognise me
— Midnight Oil, “Sell My Soul”

And I can take a little bit more
Let's shake this poet out of the beast
— Mitski, “Bag of Bones”

call my name, here I come / 90 to nothing, watch me run

[capricornia]

Ship/Member: Mingyu/Wonwoo, Seungcheol/Jihoon, Seungkwan/Dino, but any others are fine!
Major Tags: friends with benefits, enemies to lovers?, mismatched love languages, BBBfest squares
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: daddy kink

Prompt:

You want a room with a fire escape
I want to tell you how much I hate this
Don't leave that stuff all over me
— R.E.M., “Tongue”

Exceptional Considerations.
Never the less tenderness.
— Gertrude Stein, “Sacred Emily”

real cadences

[capricornia]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: character study, running away, how much can you get of what you want before it drags along with it everything you're trying to avoid?
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Should there be a call there would be a voice.
— Gertrude Stein, “Tender Buttons: Rooms”

you know me better than i do, so why didn't you stop me?

[almondtree]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Soonyoung
Major Tags: sci-fi, space explorers, domesticity, on-again off-again relationship
Additional Tags: semi-accurate scientific information
Permission to remix: Please ask


once again maybe a little lighter than intended...sorry angst doesn't come easily to me but i had to try

***

soonyoung makes it all the way to the pallene ring of saturn before he turns around. “i think i should get some credit,” he slurs into the comms array on his dashboard. “i was gone for almost a week. long enough for you to miss me, right?”

there's silence on the other end, because wonwoo had never picked up, just like the last three times soonyoung called.

“come on, now, that's not fair,” soonyoung says. “you could have stopped me. it wasn't all my fault.”

except it was, wasn't it. just like the last three times.

they’d made it off the forty-third moon of jupiter in one piece, what soonyoung called an impressive feat of piloting and wonwoo called a miracle. that was alright, they didn't need to agree. but then they had to decide where to go next.

and wonwoo wanted to stay on mars, keep ruining his vision by squinting at those dim little holobooks (he still refuses to get the surgery soonyoung has that gave him 20/10 vision and lets him see in the dark). soonyoung wanted to take the scenic route over the volcanoes of venus.

“it'll be romantic,” he'd said. “planet of loooove. eruptions.” he'd waggled his eyebrows. wonwoo had sighed and given him a look over the tops of his glasses.

“venus is dangerous, soonyoung.”

soonyoung had flopped over the couch dramatically so he could look at wonwoo upside down, see if that changed how he felt about him. maybe the angle would make it easier to leave. “not if we don't fly too low.”

the angle did help. when wonwoo said no, it wasn't so difficult to get up in the middle of the night (martian nights are a little longer than the ones back on earth, a few minutes more to linger in their bed before he slips away) and cram snacks into the cockpit of their banged-up star rover.

it was an impulse decision, but a fortune teller on venus told him it was the right one. they also told him he would find his real soulmate on desdemona, one of the moons of uranus.

he spent a little while giggling about uranus, the way he always does, the way that always makes wonwoo roll his eyes, and then he remembered he was supposed to be leaving wonwoo. he gave the fortune teller 50 credits, which seemed like a lot but they were the expert, not him, and then he set a course for desdemona.

and now he's orbiting saturn, since everyone knows saturn has the best distilleries. soonyoung isn't really sure what makes them the best, but he’s gotten fucked up pretty fast, so. maybe that.

“wonwoo, i know i’m not that great of a driver,” he says, leans real close to his comms like that will make wonwoo pick up any faster. “but you're worse. and—i don't want you to die.”

there's souvenirs scattered around the cockpit, reminders of places they've been where neither of them could resist a keepsake. soonyoung runs his fingers over the smooth rocks he collected from one of the martian river meanders the first time they visited.

“i didn't get anything from venus,” he sighs. “it didn't feel right, to collect something without you. i kept looking over to say things that were super funny and would have made you laugh, but you weren't there.”

“jesus, you really are drunk,” wonwoo’s voice comes tinny though the comms.

“wonwoo!” soonyoung straightens up. “i didn't think you even picked up.”

wonwoo sounds amused, that special brand of fond and exasperated he only saves for soonyoung. soonyoung thinks he could search all twenty-seven moons of uranus and never find anyone who sounds quite like that when they talk to him. “i figured i’d cut you off before it got embarrassing.”

“you've never complained about my lack of shame before.” that's not true—he has, and he will again, and maybe it will turn into another argument that makes soonyoung consider heading to another moon.

but now he's seen wonwoo upside down and right side up and sideways, and none of those angles were ugly enough to keep him away. okay, so his nose looks a little weird upside down. whatever.

four sols later soonyoung is slinking back through the door of their apartment, and wonwoo is sitting in the suspensor armchair that soonyoung hates because they can't both fit in it. “what, you run out of gas?” wonwoo says drily.

“ran out of snacks,” soonyoung says, because it's easier than telling the truth, which is that he pulled up into the stars above venus and couldn't decide where to go next. he floated past saturn and it was beautiful but he was alone, no one there to tell him not to just aim the rover into one of those spinning rings of dust and let it batter him around until he was a million little particles in orbit. “and i didn’t know where else to go.”

wonwoo gives him a look over his glasses, the way he does. “you needed impulse control, huh?”

sheepishly, soonyoung flops across his lap, legs dangling over the side of the chair, wonwoo’s bony knees digging into the meat of his thigh and the small of his back. he reaches up and pushes wonwoo’s glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i needed a ball and chain. this chair is fucking uncomfortable, can we get new ones? or maybe a couch? if we’re going to stay on mars, this place needs to feel more like home.”

Re: [FILL] worm.

[youremyflower]

WHAT IF I CRY . in the wormest way. this is so worm (warm, but worm, yknow) . Wow

Re: [FILL] worm.

[(Anonymous)]

OH GOSH . worms . i am so obsessed w this thank you soup

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[hyojungss]

hi i love this so much... back to u i think YOUR 8jun characterization is so amazing i seriously just love how childish jun is around 8, (8 voice) i'm the older brother. how he can get impatient with jun but at the end of the day he'd do anything for him, you highlight how they have like nothing in common ("You always ask Wonwoo, or Hansol, or Mingyu to go with you" who are entirely accurate choices btw) but jun still feels hurt that he's LEFT OUT. all the little junisms (drinking mala broth like water), all the 8isms (persevering thru the kr translation bc he refuses to give up) how straightfwd minghao says "i like you" , "I like having you in my debt, Xiao Hao" !!!!! T_____T im going through it..... tysm for this treat!! i'm 8junist@@@@@

[FILL] love is a thing with teeth

[cruelsummers]

Ship/Member: Vernon/Seungkwan
Major Tags: hitman AU, depictions of violence, semi-explicit sexual content
Additional Tags: killing eve vibes, vernon the horniest hitman ever
Permission to remix: pls ask
a/n: this is,,, a very loose interpretation of the prompt

***

When I first saw you
The end was soon
To Bethlehem
It slouched and then
Must've caught a good look at you
Give your heart and soul to charity
'Cause the rest of you, the best of you
Honey, belongs to me
-Hozier

Seungkwan is too good. He’s the type to soothe a crying child in public, help an elderly person with their groceries. Whenever Vernon meets up with him, he always asks if he’s eating well, if he’s taken his vitamins. Vernon lies, says he is, just to see Seungkwan smile.

“Where did you go this time?” Seungkwan asks eagerly, tugging at Vernon’s sleeve.

“New York,” Vernon says, indulgent. “Wanna see pictures?”

“Yes!” He spends the rest of the day with Seungkwan, answering his questions, taking him out for Thai Food and then fucking him until Seungkwan sobs his name.

“Can’t,” Vernon says when Seungkwan sleepily requests for him to spend the night. He presses one, two, three kisses to Seungkwan’s pouty mouth. “See you on Thursday?”

“Fiiine,” Seungkwan flops back into bed, waving Vernon away. “Goodbye, stupid boyfriend.”

Seungkwan really is too good to him.


–


Vernon wasn’t in New York. He was in Beijing, doing a job. A “job” as in -

“Messy,” he comments casually at the scene Jun’s left behind. Josh sent him in for backup because a member of Chinese intelligence that’s been tracking Jun’s movement caught up with him. It’s cool, Vernon shot him in the head before anything could happen.

Jun beams at him, a bloody Joker smile. “Vernonieee, you came to save me!”

Seungkwan thinks that Vernon travels for work, taking pictures for magazines. He does take a lot of pictures, but nothing that anyone would pay for. It’s an easy enough cover story though - he and Seungkwan aren’t at the point in their relationship where Seungkwan pries for details.

He thinks about it though. Spilling his bloody guts, and wondering if Seungkwan would still kiss in that tender way he does. The way that makes Vernon keep coming back to him.


–


This kind of life, you either inherit or get recruited.

Vernon is the latter, Joshua is the former. He thinks that’s why Joshua has no problem calling him up at the last minute to take care of things, even when Vernon is on a date with his very cute boyfriend.

“What’s wrong?” Seungkwan asks when Vernon hangs up. His poker face hasn’t budged, but Seungkwan can somehow read his displeasure. Huh. How about that.

“Work emergency,” he sighs. Seungkwan’s expression falls and Vernon reaches out to cup Seungkwan’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he says, and means it. Whoever he has to kill is really unlucky, because Vernon has a personal vendetta against them now. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Seungkwan pouts. “You better.”

Twelve hours later, Vernon is sitting in Joshua’s office, giving him the flash-drive they needed so badly. Vernon had strangled his mark, outside his usual MO. It was pretty satisfying, but he still misses Seungkwan. Little tease had snapped Vernon a picture of him stretched around a dildo, the perfect revenge, and Vernon is still recovering from it.

“Good job.” Joshua takes a better look at him and raises an eyebrow. “You’re unhappy.”

“Nah,” he says. He knows that everyone is aware he has a civilian in his life, but they don’t know too much about Seungkwan. Which is how he likes it. Vernon is quiet about him for a reason. “Can I have a bonus? Since it was last minute.” If he has extra cash, maybe he can buy Seungkwan concert tickets for that girl group he likes so much.

Joshua eyes him for another minute before conceding. Vernon texts Seungkwan the ticket confirmation, grinning at the barrage of heart emojis that he gets in reply. Forgiven.


–


“Oh no, you’re too cute for this,” Jun groans the first time he meets Vernon. It’s standard for the “babies” the ones with less than five years in the field, to shadow a more experienced hitman before taking jobs on their own. “What are the bosses thinking?”

“Sorry hyung,” Vernon says politely. Jun curses under his breath in Mandarin and Vernon doesn’t bother telling him that he can understand him.

Later that week, Jun takes it back after Vernon comes up with a way to hit their mark with poison in a cologne bottle. “You’re kinda half-plastic aren’t you,” he says, ruffling Vernon’s hair.

Wonwoo, who’s driving their getaway vehicle, looks back with a frown. “What the hell does that mean, Jun?”

But Vernon gets it.


–


He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he decided he wanted to keep Seungkwan. He picked him up randomly at a club one night, desperately horny, wanting to bury himself in a warm body and stay here until morning. But Seungkwan had been too nice, and didn't let him go too fast that first time, softening Vernon with sweet kisses and caresses. It had been too long since Vernon had been touched in such a tender way, that he melted instantly.

“I’ll take care of you,” Seungkwan had said, an angel on his knees. Speechless, Vernon let him.

He’s been a sucker ever since.


–


“Your skin looks really nice,” Wonwoo says, bewildered, the next time Vernon sees him. Vernon blinks, and touches his own cheek.

“Oh. Thanks. I drink a lot of water.”

He texts Seungkwan what Wonwoo said on his personal phone after he stabs a prominent member of Japanese parliament in a subway, stepping out right where the cameras are dead. He tosses the blade, just as Seungkwan texts an ecstatic, I told you so! Skincare is important, Vernonie!


–


Vernon knows he’s a bad person. Good people don’t kill other people. The ‘half-plastic’ label is something that he clings to. He’s bad, but not all bad. Nice, but not too much. Good enough to touch Seungkwan with his dirty, dirty hands because Seungkwan wants him to. Seungkwan, who deserves a better, sweeter romance. Preferably from a person who hasn’t killed twenty people in the past year.

The truth is, Vernon would probably kill anyone else that tried to touch Seungkwan.

After all, he’s only partially a nice person. He’s not good enough to let Seungkwan go.


–


Seungkwan kicks him when his work phone buzzes at two in the morning. Vernon slowly blinks awake, looking at his angry boyfriend. Even like this, Seungkwan is cute.

“Tell Josh Hong to respect peoples’ sleep schedules!” Yeah, as if Vernon is going to tell Josh that a civilian knows his name. He kisses Seungkwan lazily, before getting up. Seungkwan melts back into bed, with a huff. “Ridiculous. You’re lucky I love you.”

Vernon pauses in the middle of pulling up his boxers. Seungkwan loves him?

He thinks about it. It’s been a year. Wonwoo has found him a cover at a magazine company that one of the bosses has his hands in, to make his photographer cover easier. Seungkwan knows Wonwoo and Jun are his closest coworkers. Outside of his job, Seungkwan knows practically everything about him. He definitely knows everything about Seungkwan.

Well, shit. He loves Seungkwan too.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Seungkwan says shyly, misinterpreting Vernon’s silence.

“You’re too good for me,” he says honestly.

Seungkwan scoffs. “You’re the sweetest man in the world.”

Vernon smiles, Seungkwan’s words echoing in his skull, as he goes into work.

Re: the most blessed thing

[hyojungss]

this T______T wow i love how you wrote it, first off jn and ww bonding over something super realistic, and this line “Your Jun,” Minghao smiles painfully, and Wonwoo’s heart flutters at the possessive term, “is one of them.” manages to capture both that everyone else knows its gna be disaster but ww is in too deep to do anything about it. Jun sighs and shakes his head. “I love you,” he whispers. “I’m a selfish, arrogant creature, and I will stay until you make me leave, even though I shouldn’t.” T____T it's really beautiful and what gets me the most is how much u can feel jn loves ww.... UNTIL HE DOESN'T. the different perceptions of time makes it so much worse!! this line: Wonwoo doesn’t talk to Jeonghan anymore. and the ending are soooo brutal thank you for writing!!

[FILL] we all share the same sky

[hoshingies]

Ship/Member: Seokmin/Minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: found family-isms (for you, karina •3•); love is a choice; seokmin as the introvert we know he is; and where he recognizes he can’t always be the kind & happy one; slight angst
Permission to remix: Please ask
Word count: 1,809

Lol I’ve never written Seokmin or Minghao before, I tried ; w ;

***
Loneliness is something Seokmin doesn’t like to think about, something he tries to push away as he reaches out a hand to be close to the friends he’s made after so, so many years of being alone.

He’s fine with being alone, welcomes it as a part of his life. He’s been seen as the happy, go lucky sunshine in his friends’ life, placing their happiness in his palms to help balance their hardships.

But sometimes it becomes too hard, his smile just a bit dimmer, the light not quite reaching his eyes, and shaking his head when Mingyu and Soonyoung ask if he would like to go out with them.

He makes up an excuse like him not feeling good, he’ll see them later, a reason to go back to his room and hide away. Alone time to make his mind feel more at ease when he feels the loneliness flood through him with so many people around him.

It doesn’t go away when he enters his room, immediately closing the door as a sigh leaves his mouth.

The only phrase he can think of is that he misses Minghao. He misses Minghao’s presence, the way he felt like a security blanket in Seokmin’s rocky foundation. The one that fills the cracks when he needs it.

He’s left to visit his parents in China, and Seokmin feels his entire body want to jump through the phone so he can see him again. To hug him again. But he couldn’t deny his friend the chance to see his parents after so long, not when he finally got the chance. He’s selfish, but he’s not that selfish.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he wishes he was.

He doesn’t know when he pulls up a FaceTime call to him, waiting with anxiety that floods through him like a hurricane as he stares at his own face.

He feels a sense of relief the moment it pauses, and is instead flooded with Minghao’s face. A smile that adores it as he stares at Seokmin. “Hey,” he says and his voice is a whisper.

Seokmin immediately says a quiet, “Hey,” back.

“You know Mingyu texted me?” He asks when there’s a pause, like Seokmin can’t figure out his words. The wave of loneliness that had flooded him with his friends comes back harder, and it brings a chill to him.

But Seokmin only shrugs a shoulder as he adorns a smile that he can tell is too fake when he glances at the corner to see himself. “I wanted to be alone,” he feels the need to explain himself, leaning back against his window with the curtains drawn closed.

There’s a brief thought that flits through his mind, their lips meeting in just a brief second. He shakes it away though, and instead pulls his knees up to his chest and waits for Minghao to say something back. He nods, hums a bit before his head turns to stare out the window. “I like being alone too,” He tells Seokmin, and Seokmin wonders why he hates feeling so alone right now. Why the silence that’s surrounding him is too loud compared to the usual peace it brings him. “Are you okay?” He asks after a brief moment, and it takes Seokmin a minute to bring himself back to their conversation, back to staring at Minghao’s concerned look with the way his eyebrows knit together.

Seokmin thinks he really needs a haircut. A text message from Soonyoung pops up on the screen that he immediately ignores.

“I…,” he pauses, tapping a finger against his thigh before he leans his head back against the window behind him. “I don’t know,” he finally admits aloud, something he doesn’t even admit to himself.

He’s supposed to be the one that brings out the happiness through their friend group, one that makes everyone smile. The one that’s okay with shouldering his own problems and problems that he’s handed to when they need a moment away.

And Minghao is the one who understands him the most, understands his thoughts and his ways as he nods again. “It’s okay to be alone,” he says after a few moments, trying to find his words when he pauses. “You know we care about you?”

“Who’s we?” Seokmin can’t help but joke, but Minghao just frowns at him and he immediately drops it.

“You’re not alone,” Minghao pushes again, leaning closer to the phone as if he were beside Seokmin right now. “Everyone. You can’t be alone when we’re all here for you.”

“But,” he wants to say something, that he’s pushing them away. That they’ll leave when he can’t be the same upbeat Seokmin that he’s usually taken on for them.

Minghao immediately shakes his head. “We love you,” he whispers, eyes flitting to stare out the window once more. There’s an even quieter, “I love you,” that he whispers.

Seokmin’s brain doesn’t hear it at first, until it processes a second later and he feels his face flush. He refuses to stare at his little portrait in the corner, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot when he shakes his head. Instead he whispers back just as quiet, “I miss you.”

“Are you by your window right now?” Minghao wonders, flipping his phone to shine out his. Seokmin nods, squinting as best he can to see the sky that’s blinded by lights in his city. He turns the camera back to himself when he gives a smile, “Look outside for me.”

He frowns in return, pulling the curtain to the side to press a hand against the cool glass before he pulls it open. The December air blows through, too cold to be standing in his room in just his pajamas but it doesn’t deter him. “Okay, now what?”

“The stars,” he says, like Seokmin is supposed to understand him. Minghao just laughs, smiles gently and continues, “We’re looking at the same stars. The same moon.” He leans closer, and Seokmin feels his breath hitch with a wave of emotions. “When you’re lonely, look at them. We’re breathing the same air.”

He nods in return, as Minghao tells him once more, “You are not alone, Seokmin-ah. I’ll be back next week.” Seokmin doesn’t know when the tears leave his eyes, only reaches up to wipe at his cheeks that makes Minghao chuckle.

“I love you too, Minghao,” he replies back, staring at the sky for just a second more before they fall into their usual conversations.

[FILL] come on in, boy

[klav]

Ship/Member: Soonyoung/Minghao
Major Tags: NSFW, dubious consent
Additional Tags: demon!Soonyoung, your body is my body-isms
Permission to remix: Please ask
Title from The Haunting - Set it Off. This is extremely deranged, sorry if it strays from what you intended for the prompt!!

***

“You know what a succubus can do, right?”

Minghao settles back against the headboard, his throat suddenly dry. “Not really. How does it work?”

“Intention.” Soonyoung tugs Minghao’s ankles apart and wiggles his way up, palms catching gently behind Minghao’s calves, further, until his knees bracket Minghao’s hips. He settles on Minghao’s thighs like he’s descending on a throne. He worries his shiny bottom lip between his teeth before sweetening into a smile. “You have to let me in. You have to want me in.”

Minghao twists his fingers in the sheets. That won’t be an issue. The question has never been, does he want Soonyoung? Of course he does. The question is, should he want Soonyoung? Even knowing what he is?

Or, more importantly, knowing what he’s not.

He’s not human. That’s for sure.

When Soonyoung notches his thumbs into the waistband of Minghao’s jeans, his fingers have extended to an abnormal length. They’re spidery and grotesque. Claws protrude from his fingertips, their shiny face whispering with misty, reflective shapes. It looks wrong. It should be wrong. Everything about him is off, bad, rancid, some might say evil—

But. Soonyoung licks his lips, a tiny flicker of blood-red tongue. His breath is hot against Minghao’s neck. Alluring. He pops the button on Minghao’s jeans and presses his tongue against the backs of his own flat, pearly teeth. A shallow inhale shudders through Minghao’s chest. He imagines those teeth sinking into his skin, tearing away red and hot, leaving pretty little bruises.

Minghao wants this. He remembers the strange, otherworldly feeling of that night in the woods, when he’d accidentally Summoned Soonyoung. How his skin felt electrically charged. How his blood surged and boiled, how even the earth moaned with pleasure beneath his feet.

“Show me,” Minghao says.

Soonyoung looks up. His eyes are black all the way through, two inkwells in his face. He cups Minghao’s chin with his pretty, ghoulish hands and says, “Baby. All you have to do is look.”

I’m already looking, Minghao wants to say—as if he could possibly look away right now—and a protest against baby rises on his tongue. Before he can speak, the shadows of the room suddenly shift.

One moment Minghao is simply making eye contact with Soonyoung. The next, he feels a chill eclipse his skin. He can’t move his hands. He can’t move his body. He watches, slowly, slowly, helplessly, as the darkness in Soonyoung’s eyes spills down his face like black tears.

It’s both gorgeous and horrifying. Minghao would gasp if he had use of his mouth right now. Soonyoung’s impossible pupils continue expanding, blotting out his entire face and then blooming outward, until Minghao’s entire field of vision goes black. He sees nothing but darkness.

A textured darkness. Underneath the blankness—there’s a feeling.

The void is hot. It’s bottomless. It wants to control him.

Minghao goes limp. His head lolls forward. He feels it happen like he’s in a dream, a passenger inside his own body. Aware but trapped. Someone catches him with warm palms and sets him upright.

Minghao tries to scream. Can’t.

His vision returns in cloudy bursts of light and color. When the bedroom resituates around him, Soonyoung is gone and Minghao can’t blink. Oh—he really can’t. He can’t focus his eyes, either.

He tries to shape the sounds of Soonyoung’s name. His lips are motionless. Unresponsive.

Scary at first, right?

Fuck. That’s Soonyoung’s voice—in his head? In his subconscious? Terror clenches its hot fist inside of Minghao, in the chaotic corner of his mind where he’s trapped like an animal behind glass.

He tries to project a thought back into the ether: Why can’t I move?

You gave in to me, baby. I’ve got you right now.

You’re possessing my body.

I’m borrowing your body.

Soonyoung’s voice manages to sound smug.

I didn’t know it would be like this, Minghao thinks frantically. A kaleidoscope of images cascade through his panicked thoughts—his supine body in a hospital bed. A bouquet of yellow tulips. The metronomic beat of a heart monitor. Mingyu on his knees, head bowed in defeat.

Relax, Soonyoung soothes. Hey. I wouldn’t do that. You wanna have some fun?

?!

Mmm. Sit back and enjoy.

Minghao takes a deep breath. At least—Minghao’s body does. Minghao himself, the consciousness he recognizes as his own, is tied up and powerless in the backseat. He looks on from afar as his eyes focus on the opposite wall.

Soonyoung has the reins now. Minghao watches as his own hand moves to cup the soft bulge in his pants.

Oooh, Soonyoung sighs. I missed this. You’re so hot, you know that?

How can I feel this, Minghao thinks, frantically, trying to jerk his hand back. He fails.

You feel it because I want you to.

Minghao’s wrist rotates to push his palm more purposefully against his crotch. He opens his legs wider and shimmies further down the bed. A pit of hunger opens within Minghao—and he can’t tell if it’s his own or Soonyoung’s.

His cock thickens. Minghao shifts his hips, pushing his jeans down far enough to drag himself out of his underwear. The air is cool and dry against his overheated skin. He starts moving his hand, a slow and certain rhythm. Warmth kindles in his gut.

This is Minghao’s hand on his own body—in essence, masturbation—but somehow it feels like a foreign touch, like he’s brought a stranger to bed with him. The same heady, foggy feeling from his Summoning in the woods starts to creep in. It softens the fear. Sweetens him.

There you go, Soonyoung coos. Feel good?

Starting to, Minghao thinks, before he can stop himself. Are you… making me feel…?

This time Soonyoung doesn’t sound smug. He just sounds happy. No, you’re just enjoying yourself. Gonna make us feel good.

Minghao thinks he’s still in shock underneath the saccharine glow of Soonyoung’s demon magic. It’s hard to tell what he’s feeling without a physiological response to track. But—fuck, no, it does feel good. That’s undeniable. Soonyoung is doing something ungodly with his fingers.

Where’s your lube? Soonyoung suddenly asks.

Not telling.

Ah, killjoy. I’ll find it myself.

The hand falls away. Minghao bites back disappointment. His body gets up and starts fumbling around in the desk drawer, pushing aside random black cords and post-it notes of Bei Dao stanzas he’d tried translating into Korean earlier that dreary month. Minghao watches Soonyoung loot around in his belongings, tossing pens and wrappers onto the floor, until he pops open the bottom drawer of the nightstand and checks under the hand towel. Shit.

Soonyoung waves the lube in front of his own face—their own face—as if taunting Minghao.

If Minghao could shiver, he would.

There’s no fucking around after that. Soonyoung strips out of his jeans and underwear. Minghao inwardly cringes, noticing the scrawniness of his legs from this angle, the sparse trail of hair on his abdomen, the half-hard lean of his dick. Usually he—well, tidies up a bit before sex. Usually his partners don’t get a bird’s eye view like this.

Stop that, Soonyoung reprimands.

What?

Looking down on yourself. I mean, I’m literally looking down at your penis right now, but metaphorically. You’re a hottie. Definitely one of the top three sexiest men I’ve taken for a joyride.

Minghao groans. It’s bad enough you’re in my body. GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

You invited me, baby! Don’t get mad at the bird for flying.

Minghao feels like a fucking idiot.

Soonyoung slicks up his hand and goes right back to touching himself. He closes his eyes, so Minghao is left fully adrift with nothing but wet noises and a budding warmth of pleasure throughout his whole body. Soonyoung tightens his grip, twists his wrist, and Minghao inwardly writhes.

God, he wishes he could touch himself, too. Grab the sheets for stability. Push back against Soonyoung with his mouth, his hands, his... anything. He’s never had so little control in bed before. It’s like his body is a toy, susceptible to Soonyoung’s whims, being used for Soonyoung’s pleasure alone. The fact that he’s enjoying this, too, in his cage, is clearly an afterthought.

It’s frustrating. It’s also turning him the fuck on.

Soonyoung slithers his other hand down. Minghao has a momentary flash of panic—not this—before Soonyoung bypasses his most sensitive areas to pinch the inside of his thighs. Hard.

Pain flares white-hot along his skin.

Fuck, Minghao thinks. Between the pain and dizzying arousal, he’s getting a confusing mix of signals. Every switch in his brain has been flipped, every light turned on. Soonyoung twitches and moans. His hand speeds up, wrist twisting so that the pressure is tighter. His breath catches in his throat. The muscles in his thighs go taut. Minghao has a half a second to deliriously think keep going please oh god don’t stop we’re close before he comes.

Soonyoung must black out for a minute, because Minghao can’t see a fucking thing. He picks up the scattered pieces of his brain and blinks open his eyes.

Minghao opens his eyes.

His body is back!

Gasping, Minghao rockets to a sitting position. He drags air into his lungs, holds his palms in front of his face and wiggles his fingers to prove they’re responding to him. Him, and not Soonyoung. He curls his knees to his chest, like a box snapping shut, heedless of the stickiness collecting on his stomach and the uncomfortable sensitivity between his legs. He’s here. He’s Minghao. He’s himself.

Minghao grips his own hair so tightly, he doesn’t realize at first that he’s shaking.

A warm body presses up against his back. Lips meet the nape of his neck.

“You did so well,” Soonyoung says brightly. “That was hot, right? The last guy started screaming halfway through and wouldn’t stop. This was way nicer.”

Minghao clenches his eyes shut and wishes he hadn’t liked it: the submission. The fear. He wishes he could tell Soonyoung he was wrong.

But he can’t.

“It was… a lot,” Minghao says, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming.

Soonyoung kisses the shell of his ear, wet and fond. When his hands loop around Minghao’s waist, he tickles his normal, stubby fingers into Minghao’s stomach. “I know, baby. I know.”

Minghao shivers. He hides his face in Soonyoung's shoulder. "Don't call me baby."

He can feel Soonyoung's grin pressed against his hair. "Yah, fine. Fine."

Re: [FILL] then fall

[almondtree]

oh gosh this one hurt real bad!! but also felt so comforting in that you've captured the one thing we all have in common with wonwoo, which is being so in awe of hoshi.

"the low-burning oil of an introvert in recovery," "the fear in his artificial focus," "halfway between a pat and a hug" OHHH you do such a good job at conveying the little bits of human body language. i'm blown away

Re: [FILL] what will they say about us?

[almondtree]

- "you and what army?" oh sweet wry minghao!! couldnt tell you why but this is my favorite line

- "if they do, no one will tell him" ahhh i like how vague you kept this because the horror of just...not knowing. that hurts

- "if he knew what a body of water felt like, maybe this would be what they called drowning" okay maybe THIS is my favorite line! great little piece of worldbuilding i feel so invested in this universe

Re: la petit mort

[klav]

She is one of the deadliest creatures on this earth, but Seungcheol thinks she looks like an angel. NO WAY!!! AHHHHH I'm spiral eyes emoji so hard right now,, this is insanely good. I'm eating up their dynamic oh my god thank you so much

Re: [FILL] love is a thing with teeth

[vampiredumpling]

“I’ll take care of you,” Seungkwan had said, an angel on his knees. Speechless, Vernon let him.

MISHI!!!!! this was just!!! just SO GOOD!!! horny hitman vernon i never knew how much i needed you until now. im in love with the pacing i think it suits the genre so well it definitely gives off killing eve vibes, like, perfectly. i loved jun's "half-plastic" line and how you incorporated it because it makes SO much sense in this au. this half-plastic guy falling in love with lovely, lovely seungkwan. oh it's always so fun when there's a killer in the equation! thank you for sharing <3

Re: [FILL] it's the eye of the tiger

[latespring]

HWA I COULDN'T STOP LAUGHING this is perfect I hope hoshi can ride around on his 10 tigers and fulfill all his dreams

Re: the most blessed thing

[klav]

“Imagine if he loved you too [...] Imagine what a tragedy that would be.” - oh wow this is gorgeous T___T I love the idea of unattainable god!Junhui and this is heartbreaking, thank you

Re: [FILL] worm.

[klav]

Amazing show-stopping heartfelt funny sweet adorable... this is a universe thank you so much!! I will be laughing about kpop’s first all-worm subunit for a while

Re: la petit mort

[infrequencies]

i keep thinking about minghao villanelle and her affinity for gift giving and her flair for the dramatic 😵‍💫

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[klav]

This is so sweet and warm... your 8jun are perfectly characterized and I loved the juxtaposition of Junhui's museum experience vs. Hansol/Wonwoo/Mingyu. Your prose is gorgeous as well ahhh, I loved being able to /see/ this piece! Thank you so much for sharing!!

Re: [FILL] for tomorrow

[almondtree]

love this whole thing but especially those last few lines—jeonghan saying that because he doesn't know how to tell seokmin that he would have waited forever, wouldn't really have chosen anyone else. lovely

Re: [FILL] it's the eye of the tiger

[virgomoon]

LOVE THIS SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR UNLEASHING THIS UPON THE WORLD

[FILL] out of the woods

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: woncheol
Major Tags: mentioned death of a parent, ambiguous reference to potential underage non-con, mentioned homophobia, mentioned child abuse, alcohol
Additional Tags: supernatural, teeth
Permission to remix: Yes

***

“Do you remember me?” The man at the bar asks.

“No,” Seungcheol says automatically, before he remembers that he’s not in Seoul, but in the small, cramped town he grew up in and before his swimming vision manages to focus on the man’s face: sharp eyes, sharp jaw, the cut of his nose under his glasses just like his father’s —

“Wonwoo-ah?” The word is wrung out from Seungcheol’s chest and when the man smiles a Wonwoo-smile and gives a small, Wonwoo-nod, Seungcheol gapes. “You —“

Went missing twelve years ago. Disappeared one night. Signs all over the town, a special vigil at school. Seungcheol remembers skipping dinner to wander through the town’s alleys or the forest paths, standing on tiptoes and looking under logs for clues at first, and then, after his brother laughed at him, for a body.

“Hyung,” Wonwoo says. His voice is deep. The last time Seungcheol had seen him, Wonwoo was a gangly thirteen year old, hair in his face, all elbow and knees. But it’s him. It’s Wonwoo’s face and Wonwoo’s glasses glinting with the soft, golden light of the bar. He looks exactly how Seungcheol had imagined he would look, sometimes, during the quiet nights in the city when the shadows are heavy and Seungcheol lays awake, listening to traffic and watching the glow of headlights slide over his ceiling.

“How?” It’s the wrong question. Seungcheol fumbles through the haze of soju for the right one. Wonwoo is beautiful. Glowing, Seungcheol thinks. As though wet.

Wonwoo’s smile dips. “You didn't know?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, leaning further over the waxy bar when his brain sloshes.

“I had wondered why you never came back.” Wonwoo smiles a small, shy smile that Seungcheol remembers too well and Seungcheol doesn’t have time to coordinate his limbs before he’s launching himself off the stool, pulling Wonwoo into a tight hug.

Or he tries to. His legs tangle and he ends up gripping Wonwoo for support as the floor sways, but Wonwoo only huffs, catching Seungcheol’s full weight. Wonwoo is taller than him, Seungcheol realizes, and strong, his arms holding Seungcheol steady as he struggles to remember how to stand.

The clench in Seungcheol’s throat tighten, suddenly. The pressure in his chest keeps building and building. It's been there, boiling since he got the call days ago, since he had to stand with gritted teeth at the vigil, since his brother had dragged him out the backdoor of the town’s small, bleached funeral hall

(If you don’t want to be here, Seungsu had growled, then just go.)

“I thought you were gone,” Seungcheol croaks. “Where were you?”

Wonwoo’s face doesn’t flicker. It remains still. Smooth. Like a rancid, forest pond. “I never forgot you, hyung,” Wonwoo answers instead, and now the dam inside of Seungcheol is crumbling, the pressure bursting.

Next thing Seungcheol knows is he’s outside and trying to catch a breath between sobs. His tear tracks chill in the night air and there’s a sledgehammer pounding in his skull. Wonwoo’s arms are still gripping him tight, keeping him steady with his back pressed against the cold brick of the bar.

“You’re fine,” Wonwoo is saying. He’s boxing Seungcheol in, face right above.

Seungcheol nods, trying to stop the sobs in his chest. Stupid, whispers the only voice in his head sober enough. Stop.

“It’s OK, hyung.” Wonwoo shifts Seungcheol so that he’s standing straighter. He’s larger than he should be, Seungcheol thinks. When they were kids, Wonwoo was a head shorter with sticks for arms. Now, he seems massive, as though taking up the night.

“I heard about your father,” Wonwoo says.

Seungcheol huffs. It shocks him out of a sob, and he takes a deep lungful of air, and then another.

“I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol drags the sleeve of his windbreaker across his face, smearing tears. He feels sick. Still drunk. The night is dark and the kind of cold that slices up his nose, up his skull. He had never thought that he’d get used to the eternal noise of the city, but here, the night feels hollow. There’s wind in some nearby trees. Figures move away, heads turned down. No stars in the sky.

“C’mon,” Wonwoo says. “I’ll take you home.”

—

It’s not until they’re stepping into the forest that it occurs to Seungcheol that home is the other direction. When he slurs as much, Wonwoo nods.

“I know where I’m going.”

Seungcheol looks at him. Really looks. The haze of alcohol has sharpened, but unreality has set in its place. The night is too quiet. Seungcheol’s footsteps too heavy. Wonwoo still has both arms on him, leading him as steadily as before.

“I looked for you,” Seungcheol says, watching Wonwoo’s face and not the trees.

“I know, hyung.”

“No.” Seungcheol grasps for words. This feels like a fever dream, as though the press of Wonwoo’s hands will evaporate and the trees will dissolve.

He need to tell him now, about the bruises on his knees where he had knelt on the bathroom floor and prayed himself to sleep. How he had shattered his mother’s porcelain figurine. How he had broken his hand punching Youngpyo in the face. The punishments, the blinding anger, the nightmares, the anxiety pills. How Wonwoo was one end, too many beginnings.

“I looked everywhere for you.”

Wonwoo smiles at him, tight-lipped, as though it’s a nice thing to say.

“I thought maybe it was your father,” Seungcheol says, tongue too loose. “I thought maybe he found out what we did.”

Wonwoo stops. There’s nothing but forest now, nothing but tall, black trees and Wonwoo’s face in shadow. “What we did?”

“What I did. To you.” Guilt bubbles up, sick and hot in Seungcheol’s gut. A secret he’s told no one but the bathroom tiles he used to press his face against. Fear and time have flayed the memories. Sometimes Seungcheol thinks it was nothing more than a kiss. A few touches, some presses. Other times he dreams himself holding Wonwoo down. Wonwoo stiff-faced with fear. Wonwoo would always do whatever Seungcheol had told him to do.

Something shifts behind Wonwoo’s glasses. He must have blinked. And then he moves, stepping in front of Seungcheol and filling up the night again. “What did you do?” he asks, words stripped bare. As though he forgot.

Seungcheol opens his mouth and chokes, a weak, squeezing sound that diffuses into the trees.

Wonwoo’s grip on Seungcheol tightens. He leans down, close enough for Seungcheol to make out his face in the dark. “This?” he asks. And then he kisses Seungcheol.

It’s not how Seungcheol had imagined it, sometimes, when he’s at his worst. Wonwoo is cold, his lips hard, and when his tongue slips into Seungcheol’s mouth it’s wet in a way that shocks Seungcheol back into his body. He lurches, but Wonwoo’s hands hold him fast and Seungcheol is just figuring the kiss out when Wonwoo pulls away. Seungcheol gasps. Fingers in Wonwoo’s coat. And then Wonwoo is leaning in again except his dead lips are pressing against the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth, and then his cheek, then his jaw, then he’s pulling Seungcheol in tighter, his mouth against Seungcheol’s neck. His lips spread open. Seungcheol chokes, fear sudden, and then there’s the sharp press of teeth, biting down enough for Seungcheol’s toes to curl but there are too many, too large of a mouth and too many rows, and for one moment Seungcheol knows that his skin is going to rip, the meat of his throat torn away, hot blood on a cold night —

The teeth let up and when Wonwoo pulls away, he has his Wonwoo face. Still and human. Seungcheol stares, heart thundering. Wonwoo looks at Seungcheol as though Seungcheol should understand, and then lets go.

Seungcheol sags as Wonwoo steps away. A moment where Seungcheol’s gasping breath is the only sound in the forest.

“We’re almost there,” Wonwoo says, and then he begins to move away, into the shadow of the trees, with one trailing glance telling Seungcheol that he should follow.

—

The trees stretch on. The ground slopes down and Seungcheol grips tree trunks as he follows Wonwoo, raw skin against bark, legs wobbly and weak. The alcohol is gone. Nothing left, but a dream. An endless forest. An encasing silence. Wonwoo’s back in front of Seungcheol, faceless and still.

Later, Seungcheol won’t remember how long they walked. He’ll remember the exhaustion, the bite of the cold, the crunch of leaves underfoot. He’ll remember that it felt right, following Wonwoo, after all these years, and that he hadn’t been afraid.
It’s not until he hears the rush of traffic, that the dream breaks.

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. They’re near the base of the hill, the ground sloping down to meet the base of two other craggy hills. Above and to the right is a bridge, with towering cement legs. High above, a car hums by, and he realizes where he is.

A unnamed hollow in the forest. Stories of ghosts, chemicals, feral dogs. Seungcheol remembers his halmeoni, shaking with rage in the doorway of the kitchen. They don’t know what they’re doing, building a highway there, she had spat. Fools..

Ahead, Wonwoo stops. He turns back. It’s dark enough that there’s nothing but blurred edges. Formless shapes of trees.

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks.

“I can’t —” Seungcheol tries. The words catch. His heart is thundering, ribs constricting. His body is too large, his head too light.

Wonwoo takes a step forward and then another and nothing has changed, but Wonwoo is something else now. Seungcheol thinks of the strength of Wonwoo’s hands, of the heady rush of the kiss, the press of teeth against his neck.

“I thought you said you wanted to come,” Wonwoo says, his voice as flat as before.
Seungcheol can’t answer and he can’t breathe, drowning until Wonwoo’s voice breaks the silence again.

“OK,” Wonwoo says. A shuffle against the leaves, Wonwoo’s shadow moving in the darkness. A pause. “You should come find me someday,” he says, hesitantly. Another moment, and then he’s walking away, footsteps slowly smothered by the trees.

Another car hums by above. The only sound in the dead forest. Seungcheol stands at the edge, staring in. As though he’s still fourteen years old and looking for a body.

Re: [FILL] and then sorrow comes forth

[sunwalkr]

OHHHHH THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD…. im sinking my teeth into all of it and i am devouring it whole. frantic devotion and the desperation of minghao to seokmin alive is so compelling and written so ferociously… this is so them. this is so them 😭😭

first of all the opening ( The thing about love in the face of war is that there’s no point in telling someone you love them if neither of you are alive to hear it. Minghao sees it like this: first you save the world. Then you give someone your heart. )is such a banger it is so Minghao. it’s romantic! but also pragmatic bc he Wants to Live so he can Love, so badly. the social club kissing the side of their head gif described here i got my head in hands :( another line: They heal his eyes but they don’t wipe the blood off his face. … “Don’t say it,” Minghao begs. “Not now.” He listens to the way Seokmin’s breath catches in his throat. “Tell me when we come back?”

“Okay,” Seokmin says, and Minghao can hear the wan smile in his voice. “I will.”