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
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you'll allow it?
Major Tags: hunger games AU
Additional Tags: the calm before the storm, finding comfort in each other while you still can
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] you'll allow it?
Major Tags: hunger games AU
Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, the calm before the storm, proust’s madeleine but bread, seungkwan!katniss, chan!peeta, general hunger games themes (like death and famine)
Permission to remix: Yes
word count: 898
a/n: i haven’t thought of hunger games in years but that quote changed something in me on the molecular level. this might contain many inaccuracies because i do not remember hunger games very well
***
Seungkwan wakes up to a soft knock on the door. He grunts and rolls under his covers, back hurting a little bit from the mattress.
“Seungkwan?” With the gentle and familiar voice comes the scent of freshly baked bread, and the combination of both is enough to convince Seungkwan to sit up. The bedsheet pools around his waist and the soft breeze coming through the open window tickles his stomach, the part that his shirt isn’t covering anymore.
With puffy eyes, he turns to Chan. “You brought breakfast?”
Chan takes a second to answer. Seungkwan sees where he’s looking and he turns red under the attention. This isn’t new, but he has yet to get used to it.
Too many changes in his life won’t allow his brain to keep up with everything that’s going on. He worries about so much, all the time, about things that are bigger than he’s ever known, about things he shouldn’t even be qualified to worry about. The one thing that’s changing that doesn’t frighten him to his core is Chan.
Chan will always let him take the time to catch up.
“Yeah,” he responds, holding up the basket covered by a cloth Seungkwan’s mother gifted Chan for his birthday a few years ago. “Made your favorite.”
Seungkwan smiles. “This morning?” Chan nods. “What time is it?”
“7. We better get going if we want to catch the sunrise.”
That was Chan’s idea. Yesterday, after Seungkwan paced the living room for hours trying to come up with a plan that will get everyone out of this alive, Chan took his hand and begged him to rest tomorrow. Seungkwan wasn’t easy to convince, but Chan looked like he was about to cry and Seungkwan just felt infinitely worse.
Chan is smiling this morning. Seungkwan realizes that he would do everything in his power to never see it drop.
By the time they get to the edge of the forest, where the ground abruptly turns into a cliff, the sunrise is over. This place is nice though. Seungkwan found it while he was hunting one day. The only place around town that isn’t cut off by the barbed wire fence. If anyone were to step off the cliff or try to climb down, they would fall to their death. Many probably have.
Chan sits down on the fresh and green grass. Seungkwan feels bitter at how healthy it looks. When Chan uncovers his basket, the smell of warm bread fills up the air. It’s almost enough to cover up the constant lingering smell of ashes.
Chan cuts the bread in half, and gives Seungkwan the bigger piece.
“Did you think about what I suggested yesterday?” Seungkwan asks after the first bite.
Chan smiles at him and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He pats Seungkwan’s thigh, knocking their knees together. “Today is a day of rest. Don’t frown at me like that… Just this morning then. But I’m serious.” His fingers dig into the meat of Seungkwan’s shoulder - and find bone right away. “Relax for now, you need it.”
Seungkwan doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course he needs to relax. But he also needs to keep his mother and sister and Chan alive, so excuse him if letting his toes free in the morning grass isn’t high on his list of priorities!
He doesn’t say any of that, of course. Instead he indulges Chan. This is just another way of taking care of him.
The bread is good, possibly the best Chan has ever made. He’s been making that recipe since he was a child, and he’s learned to perfect it. In the back of his head, Seungkwan considers the reality that Chan didn’t perfect the recipe - he just made it to Seungkwan’s taste.
The sun is warmer now, kissing their cheeks like a blessing. Has it been particularly cloudy lately, or has Seungkwan’s world just turned gray? He can’t remember the last time he’s seen such a bright blue sky.
Chan cards his fingers through Seungkwan’s hair, gently bringing his head to rest on his thigh. The sun is directly in Seungkwan’s eyes now, and he forces himself to close them. He doesn’t like having his eyes closed, especially if they’re outside, and especially if he’s with Chan. Because then he can’t look at him - he can’t look after him.
Chan clears his throat. “While I was baking this morning, I zoned out. When I came back to myself I was kneading the dough perfectly. It made me realize how many times I’ve made that bread, and how much it’s a part of me now.”
Seungkwan doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he could say to that.
“There’s nothing I wish more than to wake up everyday to bake your favorite bread.” His voice feels tight, like he’s struggling to get the words out.
It would be nice, Seungkwan distantly thinks.
“Would you really allow me to waste so much flour on you?” Chan asks, more surprised than he should be.
Seungkwan tries to open his eyes and fails. Chan moves a hand above his face, casting a shadow over it. Seungkwan relaxes, keeps his eyes shut.
“Yeah,” he lets himself say. “Yeah, I would.” He feels Chan relax under him. He resumes carding his fingers through Seungkwan’s knotted hair.
This is for him, he tells himself. Everything is for him.
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
Re: [FILL] you'll allow it?
[FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
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.
***
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.
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
me always when it comes to this au. YOU BAITED MEEE IT'S YOUR FAULT. thank you so much i still always think about them. ALWAYS.
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall
(Anonymous) 2022-01-03 04:26 am (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] deepest, desperate downfall