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
- 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!
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.)
- 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)
Note!
On dreamwidth, you can't edit a comment once someone has replied to it.
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Soonyoung/Any - Possess Me, Daddy!
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Ghost possession implied, daddy kink is optional
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] come on in, boy
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] come on in, boy
Re: [FILL] come on in, boy