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

Re: symmetry/asymmetry

[amoteamame]

oh i absolutely love this! i feel like orphan black is such a complex concept and you managed to distill it like this so effectively and make it so intriguing. seungkwan what have you gotten yourself into!!!!

Re: [FILL] out of the woods

[notspring]

oh my god???????? the way this starts out dark and gets darker, the pervasiveness of the atmosphere... it's so good you're SO good. the steady progression of terror, until wonwoo is kissing seungcheol with his "dead lips" and 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 — jesus CHRIST.

and then “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. this entire paragraph made me want to crawl out of my own skin oh my god it's SO unpleasant, the ambiguity about what actually happened -- whether seungcheol really did something wrong back then or if his anxiety has twisted it into something it wasn't. that combined with the other mentions of seungcheol's childhood really made something cold settle in my gut as i read, the mundanity of his horrible memories combined with the supernatural terror of whatever wonwoo is. i think the best way to write something really chilling and horrifying is to leave as much unspoken as stated, and you did SUCH a good job with that here. you're always so good at characters and mood and this was definitely a solid example of that. thank you so much for sharing this with us!!!

Re: [FILL] a gap in the teeth

[justbetweensyntax]

LOVE YOU RENNNNNNNNNNN! Corralling in the 8junisms renaissance.

I love stories that pick apart their initial interactions because of a mutual relation to a shared background and culture instead of that instant connection that comes with friends you click with on the basis of the person you become not the person you were born as (one dimensional tabula rasa vs. multi dimensional as a person that is coming into their own) and that running in parallel with a literal ‘connection’ here, “you feel what I feel” and minghao being very against that while jun takes it as it is and allows for it to evolve (also brilliantly ties in how juns usually characterized as a passive actor in narrative and hao an active but here its not in a demeaning way just their approach to life is very Different we’ve discussed before haha) using soulbond to tease out the unique 8jun connection is seriously genius, and this my 10th time reading this after you initially posted this on your dw and I only got how perfect soulbond is for them with this iteration.

This very much adds to the lore of 8jun slight antagonized origin story and to the building of a divergent kind of relationship, not conventional but still sturdy, deep, meaningful -- they’re honestly so so interesting to me because they’re so unlike any other foreign idol pair/group we’ve seen or observed in kpop groups.

But also that’s the thing its active Effort from both, learning, listening, paying attention as Jun does to hao from simply feeling physical deficiencies and providing care for Minghao with vitamins or reading his moods, what he’s hiding behind and gently fostering it forward without force. Minghao feeling juns nerves during his filming, jun calling to ask inane questions about gifts that were given once to hao knowing he’s trying to actually ask for something else, heh the sheer development here! this is a learned trait the consequence of actively trying to exist with someone! Not just a ‘predestined’ soulbond aspect but two people truly learning each other the niches in their reality, its Effort, oh my jumping from empathy into hey what I’d call it love in a way, love is love as love is. 8jun is so earned in my opinion but what can I say im entirely biased.

Favorite quote:
Jun's smile fades, face turning solemn in thought. "It can't be a bad thing, to have some guarantee that you won't die alone. I'm serious," Jun adds, impossibly and wholly earnest when Minghao feels his own mouth twitch. Minghao is honestly the social emotional embodiment of the mortifying ordeal of being known.

Re: [FILL] letting go ain't easy

[amoteamame]

ohhh i really like this... the ghostly presence of josh in airy giggles!! the slow death of a relationship vernon doesn't want to let go of but doesn't know how to fight for!! i liked this line especially: Vernon thinks he gave up the moment his plane hit the tarmac in Los Angeles. yeowch...

Re: we had our turn but it can't stay [FILL]

[greycheonsa]

i am here to serve... 17hols brings out the painful canon jicheol in me :,) thank you for reading!!

Re: we had our turn but it can't stay [FILL]

[greycheonsa]

;; tysm pammie!! something about quiet acceptance really encapsulates the jicheol dynamic for me, like they clearly hold so much deep-rooted affection for each other but the way it's internalized and expressed can be so different?? honestly the cab scene got me too as i was writing it bc some members are super obviously touchy/vocal about their affection and jicheol is just ?? not like that ?? maybe saying "i love you" just cuts too deep...,..,.,... the part about seungcheol being in a relationship with someone else came to me early on and i'm glad you liked it! the gentle ache... that's definitely how i feel about it.

Re: symmetry/asymmetry

[infrequencies]

oh gosh, thank you!

[FILL] so you'll have to hold me down

[madeoutcreek]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Hoshi
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: inaccurate sci-fi au, crack treated seriously, not really character death, a very crazy tiger "dream"
Permission to remix: Please ask

[tenatively] going for hall of fame: year of the tiger. also i took inspiration from this prompt as well

***

[1/2]

Click. Beep. “Okay, I’m sure you know the drill by now. This is Officer Seungkwan Boo, second-in-command on the Helios 96 Mission. Exploratory Division, something-Chapter, yadda yadda yadda. Log number— well. I’m not exactly sure. I guess I am losing track of time out here… But, anyways: the important stuff. For the millionth time this rotation, Captain Kwon has absolutely lost his mind. Firstly, he’s ruining everyone’s sleep routine and waking people up to help with ship repairs instead of just, I dunno, scheduling and setting time aside for our duties. Like, who even does that? This is an abuse of power if I’ve ever seen one. I mean, he’s basically asking us to stage a mutiny. Or— wait, is it still called a mutiny in outer space? I’ll look into it. Arghhhh. It’s getting… harder being up here. At first, it was just, you know, no gravity. The dehydrated food. Freeze-dried coffee. Homesickness. That used to get to me. But now that I overcame all of the initial problems, I find myself growing more frustrated with the crew. Dr. Lee is growing increasingly shady about some of his, uh, findings. Something about energy, gathering from what I've managed to read myself. Honestly, it’s beyond me, really. I’m stuck with crazy people on the Europa. And I thought being with other Asian-American astronauts would make things a little easier up here. I mean, the last thing I need is a white commander breathing down my neck. I would’ve lost it and lost my job, lost my merit. But this crew is full of… characters. Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m the youngest on board… I don’t know. Their egos are insane. I’ve never dealt with sociopaths like this back at NASA. What I’d do to go back there and argue with Jungchan right now… God. I really might just be stupid. Director Hong was like, ‘Seungkwan-ssi, I’ve got this secret job for you. Seungkwan-ssi, your determination, and experience could really help us here in the private sector. Seungkwan-ssi, you’re a prodigy.’ And I was like, when did we even start speaking Korean? Like, we were sitting in a Cracker Barrel in Houston. Now I know he did that just to spook me. All it took was a little flattery from Hong and I let myself get smooth-talked into a death sentence. That’s so embarrassing. So many brilliant minds here, yet not a single person values basic safety or protocol or even helpful, relevant research. That’s embarrassing, too. We’re still behind on repairs, on trying to locate that rogue satellite Hong kept talking about. Doctors Wen and Lee are definitely hiding something. DK is… DK. Jeon is alright, I guess. Doing his best. I haven’t seen Dr. Yoon in weeks, though. Who knows what he’s been toying with in the lab? He’s probably plotted our inevitable murders by now. And Captain Kwon is, as always, certifiably insane. Mutiny or not, that megalomaniac needs to learn his damn lesson for once. Anyway, that’s enough from me. Ha, I’ve talked myself into delirium. Officer Boo, signing out.” Click.

-

There’s a swooshing noise as the airlock controls let up. The massive metal door slides open.

“That’s all you, Captain,” Junhui cheerily says over the radio.

Soonyoung has done this so many times he’s sure he could do it in his sleep.

Propelling himself out of the airlock on light feet, he feels only the weight of the thick tether cord holds him back, keeping him rooted to the Europa.

At first, it’s just him and the space station enveloped in nothingness. An infinite, incomprehensible black. He looks down through the visor at his chunky space-suit-covered limbs and watches himself float around. It’s enough to inspire some purposeful motion, enough to get him to maneuver himself around and face the enormous orange planet in front of him.

Soonyoung leans back, huffing as he pretends to kick what’s hundreds of miles away. Lately, in his dreams, he’s always without his spacesuit and prickly helmet—nothing but a small child playing soccer with a ball of fire as it scalds his bare feet, or a skinny teenager trying to leap and dance across the edge of the galaxy as he’s being engulfed in lurid flames.

The dreams are so bizarre it makes him chuckle. Frankly, it’s all fucking terrifying.

“And beautiful,” Junhui pipes up in Soonyoung’s ear. Europa’s AI, DK, beeps along too, sounding impossibly merry.

“That’s right, you guys,” Soonyoung agrees, smiling to himself. Helios 96 burns on, and furiously at that. “It’s beautiful.”

-

“You ready to go back inside, Captain?”

“Just give me a few, Wen. Then we can get back to those repairs.”

He can hear Junhui steadily losing consciousness in the control room. “Whatever you want, it’s your call,” he replies sleepily.

Soonyoung closes his eyes, too. Briefly, he lets the universe hold him.

-

Wonwoo is waiting for him in his quarters when Soonyoung dismisses the crew for the rest of the rotation.

The energy in his body leaves him all at once. “Wonwoo, look—”

“Jeon,” Wonwoo corrects, demeanor stony. “Call me Jeon, Captain.”

“Hey,” Soonyoung steps towards the cot, “please don’t be like that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes flick to the left from behind thick lenses. “Fine,” he says quietly. “So. What the hell was that back there?”

Soonyoung flops down on the cot, looking up at Wonwoo dumbfoundedly. He looks good, sitting on his bed in fatigues. His hair has grown out longer than usual. The same old tattered scars decorating his arms, one on his chin. So familiar and still, out of reach.

Soonyoung wants to make the sight of him last longer than it ever will. “What was what?”

“Soonyoung, I’m serious. I don’t have time for this right now.”

Soonyoung scowls. He used to think it was impossible, but he really might hate Wonwoo these days. “You should probably go lecture Boo instead of me,” he grumbles.

“This isn’t a lecture,” he says diplomatically. “It’s a conversation.

“Like hell it is.”

“Soonyoung,” he grits out.

“Fine,” Soonyoung relents. “I just can’t— I’m honestly at my limit with Boo. You know that.”

“Sure I do,” Wonwoo says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

Scandalized, Soonyoung scrambles to sit upright. “You’re taking his side?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “There are no sides. You’re the goddamn captain, which means your primary concern should be keeping the crew functional.”

Soonyoung looks down at his hands. There’s a small bruise on his right knuckle, still tender from when Wonwoo had accidentally dropped a wrench next to him the other day. He frowns at the memory.

“And besides,” Wonwoo continues, scratching his neck. “We aren’t… we don’t— I don’t have to comply when it comes to your personal matters anymore, Soonyoung.”

This wins all of Soonyoung’s attention. He almost falls off the bed in petulant haste, newfound emotion fueling his veins and body. His face goes red-hot with something fierce, whether it be anger or humiliation.

“Is that what you think we were?” Soonyoung hisses. He sticks a finger in Wonwoo’s face, relishing the moment when the other man goes cross-eyed for a split second before smoothing over into his usual stoicism. “Is that what you’re telling yourself now, Jeon?”

“Soonyoung…”

“Well?”

“Soonyoung, please.” Wonwoo sounds mildly regretful and exasperated and part of Soonyoung is wishing for a nasty argument. A good, healthy fight. How did Wonwoo ever expect them to last when he wouldn’t speak up for himself? If they couldn’t ever talk about their relationship? Even when they were dating, they spoke like colleagues and fellow crew members and good friends. Like partners in crime. Never captain and his subordinate, no, but still—never lovers, either.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Wonwoo mutters. He has the nerve to look as tired and miserable as he does.

Actually, Soonyoung hates him a lot. He inhales slowly and exhales even slower.

“You want to talk about me and Boo, then? Fine. Honestly, I’m tired of the nagging, the bullshit. The constant anxiety that just… radiates off of him. It’s agitating. And he always makes it my fucking problem. There. That good enough of a reason for you?”

“He was literally on your side earlier. Both of you are right to be upset with Junhui and Jihoon. They aren’t pulling their weight around here because they’re occupied with something else–something they definitely aren’t telling us.” Wonwoo scrubs a hand over his face and lets out a tired sigh. “But Seungkwan said one wrong thing and it was enough for you to shift all your anger at him and not them.”

For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo lets himself stare. “What’s your angle, Soonyoung?”

Is this how you treat everyone playing on your team?

Soonyoung’s shoulders stiffen up. The lesser part of him, the part that’s afraid and threatened and alone, bristles uncomfortably from within. Is this how Wonwoo saw him all along? Is this why he—

“Didn’t you say you were pressed for time, Jeon?”

“Soonyoung, I—”

He shoulder-checks Wonwoo like the asshole he supposedly is. Wonwoo obediently hops off of the cot, shrinks in on himself in the corner of the room.

Soonyoung doesn’t care to look him in the eye. “Dee-kay,” he calls out. “Any updates on the repairs?”

Presumably occupied, DK takes a few extra moments to reach Soonyoung’s quarters. He tries not to glare at Wonwoo too menacingly as they wait.

“Um, they’re certainly… still happening, sir!” DK chirps from the ceiling system, pale blue LED lights flashing along with their frustrated beeps. “We’re making some progress, I think!”

“Oh, gosh, they sound stressed. That’s not good at all,” Soonyoung says innocently. He gestures to the door with a plastic smile. “You should probably get going, then. I gotta get some rest.”

Wonwoo visibly deflates. “Goodnight."

He carefully closes the door on his way out.

-

Soonyoung has resigned himself to the fact that sleeping in outer space will never feel normal. Even after a dreamless night, waking up to coldness and metal and a black sky is enough to keep him disoriented while doing rounds. It feels perpetually liminal, like his slumber just won’t come to an end.

Tonight he lets himself dream.

In the first dream, he’s squished in the control room with the crew, feeling overstimulated by the low chatter and streams of information popping up on multiple holoscreens. He can’t tell if he’s even there or simply watching his body be a ghost to the crew.

Seungkwan stands in the corner with the astrophysicists, his arms crossed and mouth frowning. “It’s just like, how am I labeled as anal for trying to keep us alive? Do you guys just not give a fuck?”

Junhui takes an ambitious bite of his freeze-dried Melona bar. “Uh-huh,” he hums, wide-eyed and absently nodding along.

Jihoon chuckles lowly. “Language.”

“Well, you can fuck right—wait.” Seungkwan moves closer to a blue screen displaying radar data, gesturing to the left sector. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Junhui asks.

“There. It looks like activity.” Seungkwan’s finger lands on a rather abnormal patch of activity. “DK, can we get a better read on the upper-left quadrant?”

DK chuckles weakly, sounding tinny and high-strung through the intercom. “Ah, about the radar…” A flurry of blue lights appears to punctuate their hesitant words.

“Don’t tell me the satellite system is still screwed,” Jihoon grumbles. “Really, Boo, this is a glitch.”

Seungkwan scoffs. “It wouldn’t be glitching if you did your jobs for once instead of fucking around in the lab. What is it that you two accomplish, exactly? Study the blade while the rest of us suffer?”

“Seungkwan,” Wonwoo interjects from the other side of the control room.

“Save it, Jeon. I’m trying to cover your ass here, too.”

“No.” Junhui leans down to get a better look, popsicle stick between teeth.

Unimpressed, Seungkwan raises his brows. “No?”

“No, I mean,” Junhui jabs a sticky finger at the screen, “Officer Boo is correct. That has to be a sign of activity. DK, are you getting any system errors?”

DK beeps, “No, sir.”

Jihoon eyes the crew members. He crosses his arms and stares intently at the radar graph. “So what now? We’re probably lightyears away from the energy source. How can we get more info on it without the radar system at full functionality?”

“Energy source,” Wonwoo repeats slowly, moving out of his seat.

“Yeah,” Jihoon says distractedly.

Seungkwan takes a step back from the panel, scowling. “How’d you know it was an energy source? Jihoon? Junhui? When were you planning on telling us?”

Junhui’s stick falls from his mouth at the mention of his name. “Shit,” he hisses.

“Oh, dear,” comes DK’s fretful reply.

The dream suddenly shifts. Soonyoung is in his body once again, and he’s on another spontaneous spacewalk.

He’s floating in space and then, he’s terrified. Neither Junhui’s nor DK’s voices are audible in his ear. The tether to the station is stretched all the way. Helios 96 is enormous as usual, encompassing his entire view forward and it looks like it’s—

It looks like it’s on fire. Shit. Soonyoung is going to die.

A burst of energy, like a storm, surges through the universe. The tether snaps, and Soonyoung wordlessly watches his body break loose and spiral into another corner of this incomprehensible blackness.

And then, another. Like a solar flare, except this isn’t the Earth’s Sun. Helios 96 shouldn’t be able to produce solar storms despite the planet’s misnomer. Soonyoung doesn’t get it.

He wishes the dream would shift. It doesn’t. It won’t.

Instead, the ball of fire starts to change its form.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Soonyoung yells. Without the Europa, he has no radio connection out here. “Mayday,” he screams anyway. “Mayday!”

As if on command, Helios 96 becomes… flatter. Longer. Takes another form entirely, like a shape-shifting god.

Soonyoung feels hot tears start to streak his freezing cheeks, fogging up his helmet visor. If he stays out here any longer, he will lose oxygen and he will die.

Helios 96 turns into an animal. A hungry creature of strength, solitude, and desire.

A tiger.

“Oh fuck me,” Soonyoung whispers shakily.

Stripes of pure orange energy and bright light are emblazoned across the tiger’s back. It stands on all fours and takes a deep breath as if it is to roar. Its teeth are like burning knives, white-hot and lurid. It is glorious. It is fucking terrifying.

In this dream, the tiger roars, and Soonyoung is about to be incinerated. Blown to pieces. The Helios mission would be forgotten. The Europa crew forgotten, Wonwoo forgotten. It feels like a metaphysical fable, the moral of the story barely grazing Soonyoung’s fingertips before he ultimately forgets it altogether.

Is this what it’s like to chase glory? To go the distance alone and self-destruct?

In this dream, Soonyoung will die alone.

But—

The last thing he gets a glimpse of is the fire tiger turning his way as if it sees him. It opens its mouth wide, all scary teeth and smoldering tongue.

Horanghae, Director Hong’s (?) mocking voice reverberates through the sky. Tiger loves you.

Soonyoung’s heart readies itself for its inevitable collapse. He uses the last of it to keep Wonwoo in his dying mind.

Re: [FILL] so you'll have to hold me down

[madeoutcreek]

[2/2]

-

The first thing he smells is smoke, thick in his respiratory system. His limbs twitch. His eyes feel glued shut.

"Dr. Yoon," comes a resolute voice in the distance. "We have to try again."

"Yeah, I'm trying here!" another frantic, high-pitched voice yells out.

Soonyoung is detached from his body. In some corner of his mind, he almost can see the outline of his form flounder about, gleaming yellow-orange and flickering like a sparkler. But it's him. He can see figures huddling around where he's strapped down, holding two old-school defibrillator paddles—

Shit. He tries to force his eyes open—

"Clear!"

The paddles strike Soonyoung's chest with every modicum of electricity that's in them and there's one sharp inhale, and there are people all around him. he's choking. Coughing something up—

"Captain Kwon?"

"Captain!"

"Kwon, can you hear us?"

"Yoon, what the hell is happening?"

"Soonyoung?" a softer, deeper voice asks. "Soonyoung, are you there?"

Through the fog, a sudden tether to reality.

Soonyoung's eyes fly open.

-

Click. Beep. "This is Officer Seungkwan Boo. Second-in-command on the Helios 96 Mission. Exploratory Division. Log number—never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. It stopped mattering a long time ago. Today was... today was something, that's for sure. Ah, the crew's still pretty shaken up. I'm still shaken up. I don't even know where to start... No, wait, yes I do. Dr. Yoon has reappeared for the first time in months. He looks... uh. He's definitely seen better days. Whatever he's been investigating is literally eating him alive. Jeon also got the astrophysicists to fess up about the bursts or— or flares, whatever it is that's going on. Jihoon thinks it's somehow connected to the, um, satellite we're supposed to find. And Junhui said he didn't wanna alarm anyone, which makes a lot of goddamn sense now. I'm terrified as hell. The thought that this satellite and its crew just got swept up and destroyed by these... flares... Fuck. Happy thoughts, Boo. Speaking of Jeon, Captain's back. Back from where, you ask? Your guess is as good as mine, Future Boo. Dr. Yoon keeps rambling about this box and psychology but I really have no idea. None of us do. We just found Soonyoung passed out near the laboratory, which forced Yoon out of his hermitage, I guess. Um. I think Jeon and Captain are back to their not-so-secret most-likely-prohibited-by-guidelines relationship, 'cause Jeon is speaking to him comfortably again. Don't really know what happened the first time, but I guess near-death experiences have a way of bringing people back together. Anyway. I keep getting this weird feeling, like... like things are changing here. For the worse, though. For starters, there's that box that supposedly almost demolished Kwon. There's the rogue satellite. There's Director Hong's plan moving forward. I don't mean to be neurotic, but... things might not get any better. It's all up in the air, and I don't like that for me. For us. Future Boo, I know I've recorded countless entries complaining about these guys, but. They are still good guys. They are. I can't help but be scared for Captain Kwon and for all of us, right? Anyway. I better go and get some sleep. We have a disgusting amount of work to catch up on tomorrow. Thank you, station crisis. Ha-ha. Officer Boo, signing out." Click.

Re: [FILL] held my breath for a decade

[(Anonymous)]

thank u for reading <3 our poor woof woof....... :( jihoon please put him out of his misery

Re: [FILL] held my breath for a decade

[(Anonymous)]

wahhhh thank you so much for reading <3

Re: [FILL] held my breath for a decade

[(Anonymous)]

ugh i KNOW seokhoon is such an underrated ship!!! also it's my first time writing seokmin so i'm glad to hear that you enjoyed this, thank you <3 <3

Re: [FILL] held my breath for a decade

[(Anonymous)]

YEAH!!!!! you get it!!!!! hahahaha thank you fellow anon <3

Re: [FILL] held my breath for a decade

[(Anonymous)]

lol same i love seokhoon because jihoon is ALWAYS the one initiating skinship with seokmin and i'm like 🤔🤔🤔

thank you so much for reading and leaving such a nice comment <3

Re: [FILL] don't you hate it when you love someone

[(Anonymous)]

THANK YOU hehehehe

Re: [FILL] I used to build dreams about you

[amoteamame]

i already talked to you about this but wanted to leave a comment because i'm obsessed with it. you know i love inception aus LOL because the possibilities are so delicious... i LOVE a seokmin who got inside mingyu's mind and did what he wanted in there and mingyu is not the same after. a seokmin who wants to keep the damaged version of mingyu like a bird in a cage! love the sinister implications of the ending!!!! also not to quote an entire chunk but i'm just obsessed with this:

When he did it Seokmin told himself it would be better, but now he knows that was a lie. Mingyu looks like a child as he stands here in the café, confused and frightened. It’s wrong, maybe, but Seokmin’s never loved him more than he does right now. He wants to take care of him, to soothe the hurt he caused. He wants to take his face between his palms and murmur kind words to him. Sing to him, kiss him, tuck him into bed.

He wants Kim Mingyu at his mercy again.

GOD... LOVE YOU!

Re: [FILL] maybe we could all have dinner together

[amoteamame]

really really really fucking evil and delicious i am FEASTING. this line in particular is just so good:

The softness from earlier is all gone from Jeonghan’s face, now, his expression obstinately blank. He’ll never admit that he knows, either. Joshua wonders if it’ll be like this forever. If he’ll ever pull himself free.

RANCID. also the vibes of jeonghan not releasing his claws even after they get engaged and josh just staying there in that house... god it's so delicious i'm eating your brain

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[arcsecond]

thank you so much! i will be the first to admit i don't have the best sense of humor but i did try to be a little funny with those lines so i'm glad you liked them ^__^

Re: [FILL] Nothing left, babe!

[amoteamame]

i feel like this is such a perfect snapshot of both of them and exactly why they can't stop pressing at each other... mingyu eating scraps off the table and always coming back for more... yes

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[arcsecond]

thank you so much omg T___T tbh i was even more nervous about not remembering how to 8jun than i was about not remembering how to mw so it means a lot to me that you pointed out all the little details X___X 8jun are truly so special to me and i always want to do them justice etc etc well you know how it is. anyways thank u again!!! i love reading and talking 8jun with 8junists <3

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[arcsecond]

i'm really thrilled you'd mention being able to see this piece i feel like that's always something i struggle with so it makes me happy when people tell me they like my imagery T___T thank you so much for your kindness again <3

Re: [FILL] 画蛇添足

[arcsecond]

8jun and their 8junisms you get it T___T thank you for taking the time to read and comment <3

Re: [FILL] right where you left me

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you for writing my prompt!! I loved this even if it did break my heart a little

[FILL] i want us to eat well

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: seokmin/mingyu
Major Tags: apologizing with actions instead of words bc if you said all that you felt it might be too much (and you never were good with words anyway)
Additional Tags:
forgiveness as something you earn instead of something that is given, food as a love language, love is hosted in the small things, the shame of saying i’m sorry so you do other things to hint at it, minor seokgyu antagonisms, but mostly they’re kind to one another, life advice guru minghao, nonfamous/slice of life AU
Permission to remix: please ask!!
wc: 1590

going for 5 of a kind — nonfamous/slice of life AU

the first thing i write in 2022 is going to be kind and warm and forgiving!!!! and i kind of ran away with this one (its always the seokgyu) but i hope you like it :’)

***


Seokmin is the first to break.

They’d gotten into one of their fights again. Like always, it started with a tiny little quip that Mingyu just could not let slide, even though Seokmin has made countless remarks like it before. Maybe that was the problem though, and like the metaphorical straw breaking the camel’s back, Seokmin’s words — meant to lighten and loosen the displeased lines that knit Mingyu’s brows together — became sharp and hurtful. They bruised instead of healed. Mingyu had gotten huffy, which in turn, made Seokmin huffy. He was just trying to help. Mingyu was also always trying to help. But in doing so, they’d inadvertently made things worse. The air soured between them, and they’d turned away from each other, steaming in their madness.

Like always, it ended in silence.

Seokmin slides the steaming bowl of seolleongtang towards Mingyu. Seokmin had put extra marrow in there when boiling the broth, because he wouldn’t hear the end of it if Mingyu took a sip and found it too bland to his liking. That was Mingyu though, always taking the time to nitpick at the tiny details instead of taking the gesture at its whole. Sometimes it was endearing. Sometimes it was incredibly exhausting.

So Seokmin has learned to prepare it the way Mingyu likes it. With all his years of living with Mingyu, Seokmin has long grown accustomed to the saltier taste anyways. No use in changing things now.

The bowl scrapes against the counter, shattering the quiet of the room. A little bit of soup splashes onto the counter just as the violence subsides. Mingyu glances down at the bowl in surprise.

“Eat,” Seokmin says, roughly but not unkindly. He grabs the ladle as an excuse for not looking Mingyu in the eye.

Seokmin can still feel Mingyu’s gaze on him, questioning, as he helps himself to a serving.

“While it’s still hot,” Seokmin gestures to the bowl with a meaningful tilt of his head.

Mingyu, ever obedient, picks up his spoon.

“Thank you for the meal.” Mingyu whispers it so Seokmin can pretend he didn’t hear it. They sit in begrudging silence for the rest of dinner. Shoulder to shoulder. Close enough that their thighs touch, elbows jostling into each other every time Seokmin or Mingyu take a sip of their soup. Even if it is by accident — or more likely, on purpose — they let the warmth of their bodies bleed into one another. To reassure the other person that they’re still there. That they’re not going anywhere.



Sometimes, this is enough.



Mingyu reaches over to grab Seokmin’s bowl when he’s done.

“I got the dishes,” he mutters, voice gruff. “You made dinner.”

Seokmin knows when to let things go. They’ve done this so many times he’s lost count. What is the same though, is how it ends.

“Alright.” Seokmin acquiesces.

Still, he stacks the rest of the plates neatly, the ceramic clacking as he carefully scrapes off any leftover scraps they missed. He wordlessly presents them to Mingyu when he’s done, who takes them with soapy hands and a quiet mouth.

When Mingyu’s done, he joins Seokmin in their bed. They curl up together, slotting together perfectly, like they’ve known only each other all their lives.




And then they do it all over again.




“Mingyu and I got into a fight,” Seokmin complains, grocery basket in hand.

“What is it this time,” Minghao sighs disparagingly, like he’s about to pass a higher form of judgement on Seokmin’s character. “Haven’t you guys run out of things to fight about?”

“No. Never,” Seokmin says mulishly, after pretending to take the time to think about it.

He’s whining, he knows, but he does so with the comfort of knowing that he’s known Minghao since childhood. He can act this way and all Minghao will be thinking is, Ah, Seokmin-ah, you haven’t changed a little bit, not at all. There’s no pressure to put on any act and pretend that the Seokmin standing here today is any better than the little kid he was, all those years ago. He still feels that age, especially with Mingyu by his side.

Minghao bumps his own cart along, frowning as he peers at the prices of the produce section. “Well,” he hums. “You guys will figure it out. Don’t these fights usually fix themselves?”

“I don’t know about this one,” Seokmin says mournfully, absentmindedly scanning the aisles and picking off stuff from the shelves to place in his basket. “Mingyu said he was, and I quote, ‘Getting a little tired of pizza’. Can you believe that? And I was like, well, if you’re getting so tired of pizza then maybe you can be in charge of making dinner for once — which, I know, is hard, since he just got the new promotion and his boss is making him work overtime like crazy. And I know, I know, I should be more supportive of him but did he really have to go at my pizza? I love making pizza, and Mingyu loves my pizza, Minghao, you know that, so for him to say that, it really hurt my feelings—“

Minghao stops to stare at him.

“What,” Seokmin asks, still irritated thinking about it.

“You put the Chapagetti in your basket. It’s Mingyu’s favorite.”

Seokmin huffs defensively, hand curling over his basket. “I know that. Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean that I don’t want him to eat well.”

Minghao mutters something to himself, something that suspiciously sounds like You guys need help, and stalks off.

Seokmin frowns at the space where his friend once stood. “Rude. I thought he said he was trying to be a better person this year. Self-actualization and all that.”




This fight lingers on longer than Seokmin thinks it will. Maybe they’d yelled at each other a little too long, a little too loud, and all the hurt they’d been keeping in spilled out again, hot and messy. But it’s not unfixable.

Both of them are stubborn creatures, unwilling to budge but also too soft in heart to truly hold a grudge. It’s a lot of missed chances and forlorn glances, pride too sharp to be the first to wave a white flag. By the third day, when Mingyu’s side of the bed remains cold and unforgiving as it did the first night they’d had the argument, Seokmin gets antsy. He misses Mingyu. He just doesn’t want to admit it.

“Well,” Minghao says drily when Seokmin calls him over the phone, frantic for advice. “Have you tried saying sorry?”




Here’s the thing about Mingyu and Seokmin: never once have they said sorry to each other.

Not outright, anyways.

Mingyu will jostle Seokmin’s shoulder and then pull him closer, tight, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of being apart any longer, clinging onto him for the rest of the night. And Seokmin will complain, loudly at first, and struggle to no avail against Mingyu’s freakishly large biceps, but eventually he’ll sink into it because the feeling of being hugged so fiercely is quite nice, and honestly, who doesn’t love being loved like that? Mingyu laughs every time it happens.

Seokmin will shuffle into the room, eyes downcast, hands working at the hem of his overly large t-shirt, mumbling some excuse about needing help with some random task he’d made up for the sole purpose of getting Mingyu to talk to him again. Mingyu will huff but he will also roll out of bed and follow Seokmin to where he needs him.

These, too, are acts of kindness, done out of love. A sorry without having to fully outright say it. If not to spare the other person’s pride then to save them from hurting even more.

In the end, the meaning gets across. It doesn’t matter how. Sometimes, the words get too hard to say. They both understand that.




Seokmin knows what he has to do.

He makes another grocery trip.



(A memory, from a long time ago —

“Here we are, Seokmin-ah,” Seokmin’s halmeoni grins as she proudly unveils what’s cooking on the stove. Under the kitchen lights, she looks like an angel, shining and ever so lovely. “Are you hungry?”

Seokmin’s stomach growls in response, and they both laugh.

“Food won’t fix everything,” his halmeoni says softly, spooning a steaming portion into Seokmin’s mouth. “But it helps. Don’t you think?”)



Seokmin does a balancing act worthy of a circus performance, juggling the groceries in his arms before he opens the door to a sheepish Mingyu standing over the stove, armed with a frilly pink apron and a spatula. By the smell of it, it’s Seokmin’s favorite dish. Some part of his heart squeezes, as if to remind him who it beats for.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says softly, a toothy smile peeking out. “I don’t think I say it enough, but I hope you know that. I’m sorry, Seokmin-ah.”

Seokmin smiles, though it feels a little wobbly. There is a beautiful boy in his kitchen, one that loves him even in spite of all the silly little fights they have. They are not perfect, but love never truly is. They’re starting to learn that, he thinks. Together. Which is the most important part.

A tear falls out before Seokmin can catch it. “Me too. I’m sorry Mingyu-yah, I—“

“We’ll talk about it later,” Mingyu shakes his head softly, gesturing to the pan on the stove. “Come eat while it’s still hot. I made it for you, you know.”

Seokmin beams back. “I know.”

[FILL] deepest, desperate downfall

[cruelsummers]

Ship/Member: Vernon/Seungkwan
Major Tags: hunger games AU, minor chara death, implied violence, implied sexual content, nonexplicit underage sex, suggested noncon (not between verkwan), suggested prostitution
Additional Tags: victors!verkwan, doing whatever to survive
Permission to remix: pls ask
a/n: could not ignore this blatant mishi bait, i've gone insane.

***

Do I care if I survive this, bury the dead where they're found
In a veil of great surprises, hold to my head till I drown
Should I tear my eyes out now, before I see too much?
Should I tear my arms out now, I wanna feel your touch

Should I tear my eyes out now?
Everything I see returns to you somehow
Should I tear my heart out now?
Everything I feel returns to you somehow

The first time Seungkwan sees Chwe Hansol, he’s on a chariot, clutching tightly to his younger sister’s hand, wearing the ridiculous gunmetal grey of Province 3. It’s only a glimpse, Seungkwan giving the other Tributes a cursory glance, before settling back on his own pair of siblings. The odds aren’t good for them, but Seungkwan hasn’t had his optimism stamped out of him quite yet.

This Quarter Quell is particularly insidious in reaping siblings. Seungkwan can’t imagine being in the Games with either of his sisters. Aside from a casual, “what a pair of pretty siblings,” Seungkwan doesn’t think too much on the Chwes. He has the Tribute Careers to worry about, on top of figuring out sponsors for his poor boys.

No one is expecting Chwe Hansol to win. Least of all the boy himself.


–


He doesn’t like thinking much about his own games. Kahi had been so certain Seungkwan was going to die, paying more attention to Kaeun noona, stronger and smarter than him. It made sense; Seungkwan was only fourteen, constantly crying on the train ride to the Capitol and in between training breaks. He was an afterthought, given a score of “4,” a lost cause before he even stepped foot in the area. “The 4 from Four!” is how the host introduced him at his interview.

Somehow things changed, in the first few seconds of the Games. He’s frozen in the middle of the bloodbath, watching the Careers cut down the weaker Tributes down mercilessly. A frantic Kauen seized him by the back of his shirt, dragging him into the forest before the Careers could turn their eyes on him.

I don’t want to die, he thought, clinging to her tightly. I don’t want to die.

Four years later, that sentiment is the one thing getting him through life in the Capitol. An arena he can’t fight his way out of.


–


Seungkwan remembers the minute Chwe Hangyeol dies. She and Hansol have joined an alliance with the Tributes from Five and Eleven. “The Odds” is what their little ragtag group is being called, lasting longer than the judges expect, inciting interest and intrigue. Seungkwan isn’t in the mood to care much, upset over how his poor boys were killed brutally by Two’s Careers, Minho hyung patting his back in a silent apology.

Everything changes when the boy from Five betrays them for the Career alliance, Hangyeol and the twins from Eleven, slaughtered in an ambush. Seungkwan watches it all unfold in muted horror, Hansol’s horrified scream upon finding his sister’s corpse, piercing through to his heart.

“Great television,” Kahi mutters next to him. Seungkwan thinks he’s going to be sick. The rest of the Mentors murmur about it, ratings skyrocket for the rest of the week.

The real game changer though, is how Hansol reacts when he sees the boy from Five again. They all fall silent at the way Hansol jumps him, getting his hands around his throat, squeezing hard until the cannon fires. His first kill.

“I’m sorry Gyeolie,” Hansol mutters once he’s done, head bowed.

“That’s my boy,” Ailee says through gritted teeth, a mix of pride and despair.

Seungkwan can’t take his eyes off Hansol after that. The blank, blazing fire in his hazel eyes, as he slowly but surely beats the odds.


–


“Ailee noona wants a favor,” Key tells him the next time they catch dinner together. One night Seungkwan had sung at one of Councillor Kim’s dinner parties and ran into Key after hours, kindred spirits of working late nights for the Capitol socialites that owned them.

Key had slipped a note into Seungkwan’s pocket during their brief embrace. Which is how Seungkwan finds himself in a small hole-in-the-wall, in a part of the city that he doesn’t frequent often.

Seungkwan blinks. “A favor?” he asks hesitantly. It’s rare for Victors to ask each other for help directly. The Capitol is a dangerous place to be, favors and secrets exchanged like currency. Seungkwan likes to collect them, in exchange for information he can use later.

But he can’t imagine Province Three, the Games’ most recent winners, fresh off a Victory tour, would want or need anything from him.

Key wordlessly hands him a piece of paper with an address and a door code combination. “You’ll see.”

If Seungkwan is surprised that the address is Ailee’s personal penthouse, he hides it. He bows respectfully, but Ailee ushers him in without fuss. “You’re the same age,” she whispers under his breath, nudging him towards one of the rooms. “Our youngest. I’m hoping that you can…” she trails off, and Seungkwan is floored. Hansol. She’s talking about Hansol.

The room is a mess. It reeks of alcohol, and Seungkwan is startled at the sight of a red, silken rope on the ground, clearly cut down. He swallows his anxiety, turning his eyes toward Chwe Hansol, victor of the 75th Hunger Games, this year’s shining diamond, lying on the floor, in a puddle of dried vomit.

“Are you the shrink noona sent for,” Hansol deadpans as Seungkwan cautiously approaches. There are empty pill bottles all around him. Bandages on both of his wrists. Shit. This is bad. Why did Ailee call for him? After he won his own Games, he spent an entire month inside his house, refusing to go outside. He can’t blame Hansol for acting this way. He can’t blame Hansol for wanting to escape.

That’s the thing they don’t warn the Victors. Winning doesn’t end the nightmare.

Seungkwan isn’t prepared for Hansol’s eyes. That beautiful hazel, dead and dull. A feeling that Seungkwan recognizes in himself. Nobody but another Victor could understand. Especially one that came from unlucky odds.

He doesn’t say anything. Seungkwan knows that there is nothing to be said. Nothing that can heal the hole in Hansol’s chest. Instead, he sinks down to his knees, and starts to sing. Not the flashy pop songs for his concerts or the sultry ones for Councillor Kim, but an old folk song his mother used to sing when he was young. To chase the nightmares away.

Hansol is still for a long time. Seungkwan doesn’t pay it any mind, transitioning into another when this one is finished. Eventually, Hansol throws an arm over his eyes, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

When Seungkwan tries to get up to give him privacy, Hansol reaches out. Digs his nails hard into the flesh of Seungkwan’s wrist.

Don’t go. Hansol doesn’t speak, but Seungkwan hears him regardless.

Seungkwan stays until dawn.


–


Singing is how Seungkwan won.

Kaeun noona’s death. It was an accident, a stormy downpour as they walked up the unsteady, slippery cliffs, looking for shelter. The rock had been unsteady under their feet, and when Kaeun stumbled, Seungkwan scream matched hers as she went tumbling off the edge.

It took hours to climb down to her body. The skies had cleared, and Seungkwan threw himself next to her, sobbing apologies over and over. Then, he sang, uncaring about who’d come and find him. This was the only thing he could do for her, when she’d done so much for him. Singing for the safe passage of her soul, into the unknown. After all, he’d join her soon enough.

The next day, parachute gifts floated down to him in swarms. A miracle.


–


“You’re pretty,” Seungkwan says, taking hold of Hansol’s chin. They spend a lot of time together nowadays in the trendy studio Ailee rented out for Hansol. It was decided his talent was going to be art, so Hansol spends hours throwing oil paints on a canvas, for socialites to buy at ridiculously inflated prices. “You’ll probably get lots of bids soon. Ailee-ssi told you, right?”

Hansol is expressionless. “Did you get a lot of bids?”

Seungkwan smiles without humor. “They waited until I was sixteen at least,” is all he says. No need to ponder over all the old rich men who had wanted to take his virginity as soon as his Victory Tour was over. He didn’t have a lot to thank Kahi for at first, but in this regard he did. She wouldn’t let anyone touch him until he was of age.

Sixteen was still too young. Councillor Kim was too old. But, “Better than fourteen,” Kahi had said, the best apology she could offer.

“Are you a virgin?” Seungkwan asks, wanting to change the subject. “It’s easier when you aren’t.”

“Is it,” Hansol responds flatly, mouth pursed.

Seungkwan blinks, thrown by his reaction. Hansol does this a lot. This quiet insistence in refusing to play along with what’s expected of them, as Victors, unless Ailee begs or Seungkwan yells. Even then, he does it for them, not for him.

He has never met such a foolish Victor.

Maybe Seungkwan’s the fool, for not leaving him alone.


–


“You need to be careful around Choi Minho,” Kahi tells him the next time they’re both home in Four. His mother always invites his former Mentor over for dinner, even now when they live more in the Capitol than home. Seungkwan misses the ocean when he’s in the city, so he spends a week on the beach, swimming in the water, skin turning golden brown.

The water is always the best place to have sensitive conversations, no chance for bugs or other types of surveillance. Kahi is floating on her back as she talks, Seungkwan treading water next to her. “He’s dangerous.”

“Why?” Seungkwan asks. He knows Kahi is fond of Key, who in turn is fond of Minho. Seungkwan has always felt a little cautious of him, since he’s a Victor from Two. Career Provinces, even now in his twenties, still scare him.

Kahi sighs. “He’s dangerous, Kwan. Listen to noona.”

Seungkwan’s stomach drops at that. Hansol has been hanging around Minho a lot lately. Kahi probably knows this too, always quietly disapproving of his relationship with Hansol.

He flops onto his back, letting himself float away from the other Victor. After he’d won, before he was forced to make more appearances in the Capitol, he would spend hours in the ocean, hoping for the waves to carry him far, far away.

Seungkwan still wishes for that. Only this time, he’d take Hansol with him.


–


Sex is nothing special anymore. Seungkwan’s body is another weapon for his continued survival. He allows terrible, ungodly things to happen to him, for the sake of Tributes’ sponsors, to keep up alliances, to pay back the men who made sure he came out of the arena alive. It’s all part of the game.

Hansol, on the other hand, makes his displeasure for this part of life very clear. A rich Capitol heiress apparently wants to see them together, Seungkwan jokingly reading out the summons as Hansol moodily works on his canvas. “Ah well, this is what happens when we get photographed together, huh Sol-ah?” he teases. Hansol won’t look at him. “You can top. I prefer it up the ass anywa - “

He stops when Hansol takes the canvas, still dripping wet, and throws it down to the ground. “Don’t fucking laugh!” he snaps. Hansol’s never yelled at Seungkwan before, and he’s stunned speechless.

Hansol storms to him, grabbing his face with his paint-wet fingers. “How can you laugh about this?” He sounds pained, fingers tracing circles on his cheek. “What they want to do to us?” Hansol shakes his head, cupping Seungkwan’s face with both hands now. The look in his eyes is terrifying. “Seungkwan, I wish that - “

“Don’t,” Seungkwan whispers, shaking his head. Seungkwan is an expert in playing Games, but he will not survive Chwe Hansol. Not like this. “Hansol - don’t.”

Hansol kisses him anyway. Seungkwan lets it happen.


–


“Run away with me,” Hansol whispers once into his hair. It’s a bad year for both of them, their Tributes both dying painful, undeserved deaths. Every death is undeserved, but Seungkwan will never get used to seeing children die, scared children that he’s failed. Over and over and over -

Seungkwan doesn’t know how he used to do this without Hansol. Hansol, who holds him at night. Hansol, who lets him cry without judgement. Hansol, who is the only person who knows how to make him feel good, for real.

They could do it. With their resources, Seungkwan thinks they could actually run away. Get a boat, and sail out past Three, into uncharted waters, following rumors of other lands beyond this one.

But Seungkwan can’t leave his family, knowing they would get punished in his absence. They’ve seen it happen enough. The truth is, Seungkwan cannot afford to love Hansol, truly love him, because that’s never in the cards for Victors. Love, in their world, is the very antithesis of survival. And Seungkwan will do anything to survive.

Hansol doesn’t ask again.


–


Seungkwan does bring Hansol to Four eventually. Ten years they've known each other, and it's only now that Hansol meets his sisters and his mother. Hansol is so gentle with his nieces and nephews, Seungkwan has to excuse himself to cry in private.

"I can't swim," Hansol confesses with wide eyes when Seungkwan brings him to the ocean. Seungkwan is dismayed for a second, before shaking it off. Of course city slicker Hansol doesn't know how to swim.

"I'll teach you!" he declares, taking Hansol's hands in his. He's taller and broader, but that doesn't matter in the water. Hansol inelegantly flops around, making Seungkwan laugh so hard his sides hurt. By the end of the day he does manage to doggy paddle, looking so pleased with himself, Seungkwan can't resist kissing him.

For today, they can pretend they don't live in the world they do. They can pretend that tomorrow will be just as warm and kind as today. Seungkwan will remember this, Hansol's smile brighter and warmer than the sun on his skin, until the day he dies.


–


Key and Minho disappear once riots start up at Two and Eight, their respective Provinces. Seungkwan knows, without having to ask, that the rebellion, slowly brewing all these years, is starting to come to a boil.

Seungkwan also knows that the man he cares for more than anything is part of it too.

“Come with me,” Hansol begs in the dead of night. “Don’t let me go without you.”

Seungkwan shakes his head. “I have to be your eyes here,” he whispers. Part of him has always known that Hansol would walk down this road. Maybe it was destined the minute he lost Hangyeol. Seungkwan got into the Capitol too young, and he’s too entrenched in it to exit quietly. He’d be a liability, Minho must’ve known that too.

“Please.” Hansol sounds helpless, and Seungkwan will not cry.

He exhales. “If you want to do this,” he says slowly. “It has to be the most important thing. You can’t compromise on anything, because the Capitol will never compromise.”

Including me, goes unspoken.

“I don’t care what you do,” Hansol says fiercely. “Do what you can to survive. Make them think you’re one of them. I don’t care. Just…” Tears start to spill down Seungkwan’s cheeks. Hansol has always been a better person than him. Hansol kisses him softly, wiping the tears away. “Just stay alive. Promise me, Boo.”

He nods, not trusting his voice. If he speaks, he’ll say three words he can’t afford to, dooming them both. I don't want him to die, Seungkwan realizes. But love is a death sentence in rebellion, and Seungkwan won’t let himself be Hansol’s downfall.

Even if he’s Seungkwan’s.