Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
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
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- There is no maximum cap.
- Tag and provide content warnings at your discretion, but a good guide are the Ao3 four (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage) and this list of common CWs (cr: SportsFest).
- NSFW/Explicit content should be tagged
- 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!
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.
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.)
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astra inclinant, sed non obligant
Major Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence and/or Character Death
Additional Tags: star-crossed lovers, urban fantasy, paiiiiiiin.
Do Not Wants: None
** tags not set in stone, feel free to alter as you see fit!
Prompt:
[FILL] astra inclinant, sed non obligant
Major Tags: Implied character death(s?)
Additional Tags: descriptions of violence, blood, urban fantasy (but really this is just fantasy), slightly non-linear, implied sexual content, pain. as requested.
Permission to remix: Please ask!
Thank you for the bait op ^^ though i don't know if this was what you expected and if this fits the quotes, but i hope this brings some enjoyment still!
***
The first time Wonwoo sees Mingyu in the flesh, Dongdaemun-gu’s sky splits into an ocean of fire and ash.
Several news stations reported is as a comet brushing the earth. If its orbit had shifted, it would have painted the sky with debris and extinction, instead of the now swiftly circulating imagery of the sky, painted in blood.
Jeon Wonwoo recognises it as his end; one he’s met before in countless dreams, sceneries just out of grasp every time he closes his eyes. Wisps of smoke, slipping through his fingers.
It—He is a long prophesied tragedy for his faction. And Jeon Wonwoo was the one sent to put an end to the end.
-
There has always been two. Two forces battling over the city, unbeknownst to those who aren’t magically attuned.
They aren’t that much different, despite numerous claims of the opposite. One beguiles their enemies with the moon and drown them in its tides. One blinds theirs with the sun, incinerates them with its flames. Both inclined to violence when the other is involved.
Two factions, wanting to only have one standing.
That way, Seoul would be the strong bastion of magic it’s meant to be, instead of a city rife with never-ending conflict.
Wonwoo was nothing but an inconsequential cog in the interlocking wheels of this war. More harmonious with the moon than anyone else, yes, but nothing still.
Until the day Mingyu arrives to him in a dream.
-
“Kim Mingyu,” the boy had said, “I’m Kim Mingyu.”
“Jeon Wonwoo.”
For his first dreamscape, his surroundings stand with a quite impressive stability. Wonwoo applauds himself, but stops when there is movement in his peripheral.
Mingyu sits by a pond where a few fishes swim, face bright as the sun. He dips his hands in the water, hands drawing invisible patterns beneath the surface, following the paths of the fishes.
It’s fascinating to watch, until red blooms from his hands and decimates everything in the pond. Water included.
When he looks at Wonwoo, his eyes burn red. A child from the sun.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” Wonwoo says. He doesn’t back away from the boy. “I know.”
-
“He has seen it. He’s the one chosen to have visions.”
“Then he shall be the one to end it.”
A mission set in the stars, looming over Wonwoo for the remainder of his time in the academy. Training serves one purpose from then on, to forge him into a weapon.
-
The single sheet of Wonwoo’s dream journal proliferates into thousands over the years. He writes them in ink that would only appear to the hum of his magic. His safety measure, to keep the academy from finding his hesitance.
He doesn’t know what would become of him if they found out. How in all his years wielding magic, none complements his as much as Mingyu’s does.
An impermissible communion, they call it.
Beneath the moonlight and the venomous gazes of the academy, the sea claimed his journal. Water turned into icicles, their sharp tips graze Wonwoo’s neck, drawing blood. It’s the oldest form of promise, only to be broken by fulfilment or failure.
It proves to be the most painful hour of Wonwoo’s life. Not physically, for the most part, no.
And yet, the torturous hour dissipate into nothing when Mingyu comes home to him again that night. His touches as gentle as ever, an everlasting hearth, tamed by Wonwoo’s control.
-
What kind of weapon only has a singular purpose? One doomed for failure.
Wonwoo knows his target, and he will aim. As the binding runes around his neck dictates. The exit wounds, he knows, won’t be where the academy wants it to be, though. He’s going to make sure of it.
-
It has been a few days since impact. People of science still busy themselves finding the rogue piece of the comet, landing somewhere between the peaks of Taebaeksan. It’s winter, their efforts will recede soon enough.
There is no comet to find, anyway. The splitting of the sky was Mingyu, homing in to the place where he promised to meet Wonwoo in their dream. Putting up a barrier had been a herculean task, but it was his best one in all his life.
“You made it,” Wonwoo says, the last vestiges of his energy escaping with every breath.
“Wonwoo-hyung. What is around your neck? They weren’t there last time.”
They use different runes, of course Mingyu wouldn’t know what’s written. Something Wonwoo’s grateful for.
Instinctually, Wonwoo brushes his neck. The touch burns. “It was a parting gift from the academy. A protection band.”
“That is nice of them. I stole this from the inner sanctum before I left so I hardly doubt they’d give me a parting gift if I stayed any longer.”
In Mingyu’s hand lay a scroll, its make and binding an indication of its importance.
“It’s our oldest, most well-guarded scroll. I wanted to know if they have an answer, about the dreams, about us. I’ve yet to figured out how to open it, though.”
Somewhere beneath Wonwoo’s sternum, a void rips open.
“You don’t need to. We don’t need any answers.”
You don’t need to find out what I’m destined to do.
When Mingyu moves to touch him, Wonwoo stops him, hands firm around Mingyu’s wrists.
Wonwoo is terrified. Mingyu is already a wound in his heart, his tangible touch would be Wonwoo’s ruin.
-
If Wonwoo sings to order, Mingyu plays the tune of chaos—together, matrimonial.
Wonwoo would have believed the notion, if it weren’t for the prophecy and the ever growing thrum of certain death around his neck.
“Won’t you join me?”
For someone sun-born, Mingyu looks divine under the soft brushes of moonlight. Wonwoo’s element. He looks beautiful, he looks deadly.
If they were destined for destruction, wasn’t it cruel for fate to Mingyu so easy for Wonwoo to love?
Bile crawls up Wonwoo’s throat. He didn’t realise the wound has turned into something much worse.
There is nothing beneath the sheets, and Wonwoo knows an acceptance would be the ultimate treason. He doesn’t want to hurt Mingyu this way.
And yet, and yet Mingyu’s gaze puncture right through him, almost pleading.
No matter how the scenes will play out, they are always going to lose each other. So tonight, against the sirens inside his head, Wonwoo relishes the brief moment where Mingyu is his.
His hands roam, the ridges and the depressions and everything in between. His lips follow suit, whispering prayers before swallowing the responses spilling from Mingyu’s mouth. Wonwoo doesn’t deserve them.
Wonwoo works slowly, religiously as though he has all the time in the world. Mingyu is liquid beneath him. Wonwoo, Wonwoo is ablaze.
-
The clock is ticking. Its hands race against Wonwoo’s consciousness, he knows his end draws near.
It is spring now, and Mingyu looks at home between Taebaeksan’s azalea bushes. The furrow in his eyebrows expresses concentration, so Wonwoo didn’t expect Mingyu to notice his approach.
“Were you not going to tell me?”
Mingyu has the scroll open, the long stretches of parchment sitting atop his crossed legs.
“Tell you what?” Wonwoo stops.
“What the runes around your neck actually do.”
“It’s a parting gift.”
“Meant to kill you.”
“Meant to protect—“
“Stop lying.”
“You. From me.” With the revelation, Mingyu stills. Wonwoo continues, “There won’t be anyone else who would be able to kill you. Not for another century, at least.”
“Kill me?”
“It’s what written in the stars, does your scroll not say that? I was forged to put an end to you,” Wonwoo touches the runes. “This is to ensure that the deed is done. But I won’t let that happen.”
With the speed of lightning striking earth, Mingyu rises, enters Wonwoo’s space in a matter of seconds. “They lied to you.”
“What?”
“We are two halves of a whole. We have been reincarnated for centuries, and us being together means an end to the conflict.”
The scroll only exacerbates the thorn in Wonwoo’s chest. It all makes sense now. There has always been two, meant to be one.
“Not in the way they want,” Wonwoo breathes out, all air escaping his lungs. “But they didn’t lie about me being the only one who can kill you.”
“Were you going to sacrifice yourself so I could live? Why didn’t you tell me of this?”
Wonwoo has no answer for that. The single thing on his mind is: Would this hurt less, if they hadn’t come here?
“Hyung.” It’s the softest way his name has ever been uttered. Wonwoo wants to keel over, but doesn’t.
“There is no way we could be together now, Mingyu.” Wonwoo looks at Mingyu, and devastation hits him.
Water doesn’t suit Mingyu, after all, the tears mar his face in a way Wonwoo doesn’t want to witness ever again.
“If you had told me before, there could have been a way. Your death isn't necessary for me to live.”
“If I had told you before, would we have the chance to be together like this?”
The bright spring afternoon shines over them. Wonwoo wishes it would rain.
He reaches forward, palms finding home on the soft skin of Mingyu’s cheeks. It’s the first time he feels water burn him, but he doesn’t stop wiping away the onslaught of tears.
“I don’t want my last memories of you to be you crying.”
“You’re tasking me with something impossible.”
“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says, leaning forward. He can smell spring on Mingyu when he’s this close. “My biggest regret is not making you hate me.”
“It’s okay, we have our next lives, don’t we? You can make me hate you, though try as you might, I don’t think that’s possible.”
-
The last time Wonwoo sees Mingyu in flesh, the sky brings forth the biggest storm earth has ever seen.
It’s like the earth is grieving, the articles write.
Re: [FILL] astra inclinant, sed non obligant
And Jeon Wonwoo was the one sent to put an end to the end. just!! the foreshadowing of it!! the knowledge of what's to come!!
If they were destined for destruction, wasn’t it cruel for fate to Mingyu so easy for Wonwoo to love? HAHAAHHAAHa [buries face in my hands]
Mingyu is liquid beneath him. Wonwoo, Wonwoo is ablaze. the reversal, when two becomes one etc etc... cries
dreamwidth user oeillet i kiss your brain. mwah