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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- 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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Note!
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life/death/life
Major Tags: MCD
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] the chorus is silent
Major Tags: Character Death
Additional Tags: monster hunting team, seungcheol's prophetic dreams but time-travel + wonhao the tag combi, the mortifying ordeal of…
Permission to remix: Please ask ^^
at this rate I think "dw user infrequencies" should be included in my baitlist.
(mods, does this qualify for rarepair? :D)
****
Can you fall in love, knowing the ruination that awaits? Or is hope for a happy ending necessary to sustain love? What happens when you glimpse the finale as you are already on your way down?
Four-year-old Seungcheol had climbed into his parents' bed in the dead of night, soaked to the bone and freezing, to deliver a message through chattering teeth: Appa, you're going to die. I was there with you and you're going to die and there’s a storm and you’re going to die and—
He told them what happened as best as he could, but his vocabulary wasn’t advanced enough to describe the maze-like alleyways, crimson moonlight, and a heart beating without a body.
In the end, his blubbering mess made no sense to his parents. It’s not real, they soothed him. It’s just a dream, Seungcheollie.
Then why am I wet?
Being able to jump forward makes hunting monsters easier, even though Seungcheol never gets the control aspect quite right. He has no say in how far he jumps or how long he stays there before he’s yanked back to the present, although it always happens when he falls asleep.
Seungcheol eventually concludes it may not be something he’s meant to control after all. He doesn't make the jumps happen, they happen to him. Besides, only he gets to have a 5-second visit into the future as a head start. That has to mean something.
His primary targets are nightwalkers, since they’re the ones who made him fatherless. Seungcheol has bills to pay, though, so from time to time, he takes on miscellaneous cases other hunters brand too dangerous.
Risk and reward.
But mostly, Seungcheol goes where he leads himself.
The tavern is everything he remembers it to be—or the way he will come to remember it. Seungcheol chooses a strategic table right across the door and orders a draught of ale.
Mid-first gulp, they walk in.
Seungcheol notices the wine-haired man first, more stunning in the flesh than any dream can conjure. The man catches him staring. His companion, whose broad shoulders almost entirely eclipse the wine-haired man's as he stands behind him, has to repeat his name twice to be heard. Seungcheol reads his lips, coloured to be kissed.
Minghao.
By the time the barkeep ushers the last of his patrons out, Seungcheol is ready to turn in alone. The problem with lacking control is he can only access discrete points in time. His jumps are like broken cassette tapes that skip an entire song and a half within the playlist. When it comes to the missing in-between, Seungcheol is as clueless as the next person.
He is almost out the door when a hand with calloused fingers wraps around his elbow.
Seungcheol turns around.
It isn't Minghao.
Six years ago, a demon possessed Minghao's best friend and almost flung them both out of their apartment window. Fortunately, Junhui is still very much alive and kicking today. He sends Minghao postcards from various locations, always excited about the next adventure.
Minghao is an artist, before that. Still is now. He translates Seungcheol's descriptions into drawings, spends hours hunched over papers or canvases, right cheek perpetually streaked with his chosen medium. Oil paint, most of the time.
Hunting runs in Wonwoo's blood. His father was one of the best, his mother an even better one. He has a younger brother, now retired from the family business. Bohyuk wants to live a long life, Wonwoo once explained. Some selfish part of Seungcheol is grateful Wonwoo stayed on course.
He takes Minghao's visual clues and makes sense of them, turns a setting into a location, puts names on portraits, breathes life into each story.
Breathes life into them both.
No one knows—not even Wonwoo, who’s actively trying to find a definitive answer—where Seungcheol’s blessing comes from. Why he’s chosen to receive it.
Or what he’s supposed to do, when one jump turns it into a curse.
They deserve to know. He has already told them, anyway.
Seungcheol gives them a version of the truth they can accept.
"We die tomorrow," he reveals.
Minghao makes a confused noise, setting down his cup of tea. Seungcheol is already mourning him. Soon enough, he won't be making any more sounds. He won’t be brewing any more loose leaves.
"Hyung?"
"You heard correctly."
He expects: an impossible No! Jump again and save us! demand or a dubious, What do you mean we die? How? or just a downright scathing, I don't fucking believe you.
Instead, Wonwoo leaves. Slams the door on his way out. Seungcheol’s head pounds. He closes his eyes to ease the pain, fully expecting Minghao to chase after Wonwoo.
This is the in-between. Seungcheol is blind here—he's never lived through this before. Why the fuck does he even have to now.
Minghao stays. He cards his bony fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, colourful fingertips pressing into the pressure points on his skull. He’s good at this. He’s always been good at this.
"He'll be back," he murmurs reassuringly. Seungcheol presses their foreheads together. "Wonwoo-hyung's smart enough to realise how he wants to spend his last hours. Well, maybe not as smart as me."
Wonwoo bursts into the room again.
"I heard that,” he throws at Minghao.
“Wonwoo-yah,” Seungcheol says, pained.
Hyung is sorry.
“We die tomorrow.” Wonwoo may be echoing Seungcheol, but his tone couldn’t be more different. Resolution colours his low timbre, not resignation. "Then we should stop pretending. We don't have time."
He pulls Seungcheol into a harsh kiss.
They climb in bed with him. They climb in him, too, and neither one ever truly leaves.
It happens fast. Like falling asleep. Like waking up from a dream.
Seungcheol turns away one second and Minghao's collapsed to the ground with an anguished shriek, graceful limbs now folded lifelessly underneath his lithe body. The creature charges at Seungcheol next, its break-neck speed utterly terrifying. Out of nowhere, Wonwoo comes out and bodily slams into it. Being fearless has its advantages, Seungcheol supposes. Does it have something to do with knowing the outcome?
Wonwoo manages to drive the blade into the soft flesh under the creature's chin, but not without taking a claw to the chest. Life drains away from the creature's beady eyes.
Then life drains away from Wonwoo's, too.
Here was how Seungcheol knew:
Dried paint tubes. Minghao's abandoned tea wares collecting dust. His unfinished drawing of Wonwoo, arms outstretched across the bed as sunlight bathes his naked body—reaching for Seungcheol, it turns out.
An old pair of black-rimmed glasses, never to be used again. One last journal entry signed J.W.W. dated the morning of his death; a love letter to Minghao and Seungcheol. Their broken radio with no one around to fix it.
He left out the part where he survived, where he buried them and howled until his lungs were choke-full of soil, a wolf baying at the unreachable moon.
They would have never welcomed the thought of leaving Seungcheol behind. They would have wasted their last breaths trying to change the inevitable.
He also left out the grave.
One grave.
Seungcheol prayed it would make it easier for them to find each other in the hereafter.
Can you love someone knowing you will outlive them?
You can.
In one lifetime, Seungcheol does it twice over.
Re: [FILL] the chorus is silent
i love this universe how are you so incredible at world-building with so few words at your disposal, every one of their specialities, the monsters they're hunting, seungcheol's childhood, you paint such a vivid picture its impossible not to /see/ it in front of me.
every little section has so much character, im so in love with their first meeting and how their relationship builds and how fitting it is that it comes full circle and sc gets left behind again.
these lines:
Minghao makes a confused noise, setting down his cup of tea. Seungcheol is already mourning him. Soon enough, he won't be making any more sounds. He won’t be brewing any more loose leaves.
god i love your words. thank you for biting the bait and feeding me hehe...thanks wren for doing the baiting ig <3333 (happy rarepair halloffame!)
Re: [FILL] the chorus is silent
i've read this multiple times now and gah. dude.
Re: [FILL] the chorus is silent
Re: [FILL] the chorus is silent