2022 Round 2: AUs

[hwarium]

Status: Closed This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted. ✧ Seventeen Holidays ✧ Round 2: Alternate Universes About When you put the characters you love in a new world, you end up loving them even more. Sometimes it's about the aesthetic (dark academia). Sometimes it's about straining those ship dynamics to the extreme (Pacific Rim). Maybe life is hard and you need to exorcise something (unemployment/coporate slave AU). Or perhaps you are so in love with the world you want to see Seventeen in it. Shakespeare, My Hero Academia, RuPaul's Drag Race. No problem - just give some context so anyone can fill it. Examples MinWon - Bittersweet Ah yes, the ambiguous Bittersweet MV. I'm curious to see anyone's interpretation of those MinWon scenes. Any / NCT AU Remember how Seventeen was supposed to be subgroups divided across Korea, China and Japan? What if that happened and the members were split up, only to reunite once a year. Or if they promoted like NCT - thinking about the graduation angst of NCT Dream, the ridiculous schedules of SuperM. Who is Mark and over-employed. Who is Shotaro and stuck in the basement? Wonhui X Link Click (Donghua) Link Click is a show about two guys who run a photography studio and time travels to help their customers. Wonwoo knows every event within 12 hours of a photograph being taken and Junhui can time travel and possess the photographer for 12 hours to complete a mission. Wonwoo speaks in Junhui's mind and tells him what he needs to do - where to go, what to say, what will happen. There's a rule that Junhui can't change the past because it will change the future :') but Junhui wants to :'). Would love to see WonHui investigating another sebong's story, or an exploration of their contrasting attitudes to fate (resigned vs headstrong - roles can be reversed if you want). 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> [PROMPT GOES HERE] 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! Have you considered trying for the 17hols hall of fame? The categories are: Exactly 400 Words, Year of the Tiger, Five of a Kind and the Rarest Pair. ▽ Click for More Info ▽ Exactly 400 words: your fill is the absolute minimum word count. Well done you cold curt succinct savage. Year of the Tiger: in celebration of 2022, we will also celebrate anyone who supports this agenda (context: burn your ears). You must seamlessly incorporate a horanghae or wooahae or hahahahanihae (etc) in your fill. You can not regret it. Five of a Kind: You win this if you fill 5 prompts, and each fill is different in the same way. E.g. 5 different ships, 5 different AUs, 5 different mediums. You also win this by doing 5 remixes! The rarest pair: the fill with the rarest pairing at the end of the fest wins. This is based off the number of works in the ao3 tag. For simplicity, this will be the / tag and not &. (e.g. a “Wonwoo & Minghao” platonic fill will be counted by the “Wonwoo/Minghao” tag). The ship must only have Seventeen members and be the main pairing in your fill. We will update the category with the current titleholder during the fest so you know who to challenge~ I anticipate polyamory. (To help us out, please mention that you’re going for one of these categories at the beginning of your fill.) Navigation ABOUT DATES FAQ BAITS ✧ FILLS ✧ ROUND 1: QUOTES ❮ ROUND 2: ALTERNATE UNIVERSES ❯ ROUND 3: LAST WORDS

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romcom-esque soonwoo

[jevno]

Ship/Member: soonwoo, any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: fluff
Do Not Wants:

Prompt: they spend a holiday together!!! travelling to sightsee and enjoying the small little things while exploring a new place. spontaneous decision making which leads to fun experiences. go crazy!!
(was thinking of them going to the countryside, just being free and happy, but it's uty where you want them to be ^^)

[moonlitmelodiesfic]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Current world but with a twist?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: What if, in another parallel universe to the one we’re living in, a sense never existed? For example, humans are born unable to speak, or see, or smell, or hear. Or in another sense, what if environmental changes resulted in evolution away from a sense? Like a gradual loss of light in the world resulting in a decreasing need for sight. How might interactions change? How might vocabulary (assuming they still retain speech) change? Maybe the population gradually forgets words for colour. Take this in whatever direction; maybe it’s the end of the world, post-apocalyptic, or just the world humans are born into.
In addition, how may falling in love change? ;) if people can’t see, how do they describe each other, admire each other? If people can’t process sensations on their skin, how might physical contact be different?

[FILL] power of love

[sanchen]

Ship/Member: Seventeen (Gen)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blindness, Idolverse, References to Illness
Permission to remix: Please ask
(also going for year of the tiger [horanghae])

***

i put in ao3 since it got to 2.9k but here it is!

[hoshism]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: major character death

Prompt: literally anything avatar: the last airbender/legend of korra related. even if it’s a completely normal fic with one throwaway line about minghao being a firebender i’ll love it

[FILL] a glass jar and four deep breaths

[kwontent]

Ship/Member: 8jun
Major Tags: nonbender-turned-airbender jun / nonbender air acolyte minghao
Additional Tags: when ur childhood non-bender bestie gets the element u could only dream of bending in a freak accident
Permission to remix: Yes

set in S3 of legend of korra when people all over the four nations develop airbending randomly.

***

Minghao has, objectively, the worst assignment out of all the acolytes, which is to say that he's on a boat, violently seasick, to go pick up someone from his village who miraculously gained the power of airbending.

What a joke.

The boat pitches and rolls in the strong wake of the bay, pushing and pulling Minghao around like he's just a jar that fell off a shelf, forgotten and about to roll somewhere no one can grab it.

Minghao hasn't been back to the rocky, jagged coast of Wulong since he met Tenzin years ago and shaved his head. He hasn't thought about rocks in a while. Instead, he's been meditating, searching for enlightenment in whatever form suits him best.

The boat hits a rough patch and Minghao feels his stomach turn. He's still waiting for that enlightenment to come.

---

Minghao disembarks on thin, shaky legs, presented with a ostrich horse he has never met and is expected to finish his journey on. There are people there to make his journey easier every step of the way, but short of just doing it themselves, Minghao doesn't see how it's going to be easy.

He names the ostrich horse ZhenZhen. It spits at him.

Minghao has a lot of time to think as ZhenZhen lopes across the rocky, hilly terrain he grew up scraping his knees on.

The truth is, when Bumi came to the island with air pushing out of his palms, Minghao went around to the docks of the island and spent hours just pushing his hands into the air and hoping, stupidly, for something to happen. He tried everything he learned; breathing techniques, acrobatic stances, even imitating what he would often see Tenzin teaching Korra. It was pointless.

Minghao cried on the docks, the antithesis of enlightenment. He was supposed to stop wanting things, to give up all earthly attachments and submit his soul over to the universe. He thought he had done a pretty good job. He thought he would get something back. Maybe that was why he didn't.

---

Wuyuan smells the same. Minghao curls his lip as ZhenZhen brings them both through the outskirts of town. It's a mix of something metallic and earthy, coupled with the sharp scent of humanity, the stench of people living and breathing and dying within 20 meters of where they were born.

People are staring. Minghao can't blame them; his shaved head and his robes look deeply out of place in contrast to the deep, earthy colors of the people hawking goods and cooking out in the street.

By the time he's at the center of the village, Minghao is overwhelmed and tired. ZhenZhen seems sort of pissy, too, her head swiveling at every loud noise that rings out through the street.

He needs to find an inn, to sleep, to rest his legs. But there's always a small chance he'll run into someone he knows from his childhood and Minghao can only handle so many blows to his already damaged ego. He really should be more gracious, more generous with his time and energy like some of the other acolytes. That's something to bring up with Shung when he gets back.

---

Some woman that might have been his aunt's sister's best friend catches him in a long conversation about what he's been "up to," but by the end she's directed him up the southern hill to the cluster of houses pushed up against the forest.

Minghao opts to leave ZhenZhen at a stable near where he used to clean dishes for money, wrapping his bald head up in his robes to avoid being noticed.

He feels ridiculous as he ascends the familiar hill, hoping beyond hope that, at the very least, the new airbender will be someone he's never met before.

The universe hates him, surely, because at the crest of the hill Minghao finds Wen Junhui floating upside down, his mother screaming and hitting him with a broom to get him to come down.

---

Junhui has been floating on and off for three days now, apparently.

He shrugs upside down, which does almost nothing, and says, "Just happened."

Minghao is at a total loss for words. He hasn't seen Junhui since he was 18. They didn't stay friends once Minghao moved away.

Now Minghao has to swallow whatever bitterness coats his tongue. It doesn't serve him, he tries to remind himself. The water that wells up in his eyes is born of something ugly, something he is trying to fix.

Junhui looks beautiful upside-down, his face ruddy and his hair pointed and grazing the ground. Minghao doesn’t know how to get him down and Junhui doesn’t seem especially concerned.

“You’re sleeping here, HaoHao,” Junhui says, still using his stupid nickname. Minghao draws himself up to his full height and attempts to look serene and detached.

“Thank you,” he says. “We can leave tomorrow.”

Junhui falls to the ground in a heap. “Leave?” he huffs out.

---

How fucking stupid. Minghao considers just sending a messenger hawk back to Air Temple Island to tell them it’s a lost cause.

Junhui doesn’t want to leave his cat. Won’t even entertain it. Minghao has tried everything within his power short of literally begging to get Junhui to understand the gravity of the situation.

“What do you mean, rebuilding the nation?” Junhui asks. “Are you guys gonna make me like, have airbender babies?”

Minghao flushes and says, “No, of course--we need you to come, even just for a little bit, to make sure you’re safe. Bending without training is dangerous.”

Junhui flips upside down, the bottom of his tunic covering his face and exposing his torso. “I think I’m doing okay.”

Minghao refuses to talk to Junhui’s belly button instead of his face. This is why they aren’t friends anymore. Minghao tries to remind himself they don’t have to be friends now. But Junhui does have to come with him.

“Fine,” Minghao spits out. “Bring the cat. But you’re coming with me.”

Junhui lets out a sigh that pushes him up, up, up, and with a loud cracking noise one of his feet punches through the solid wall of the ceiling and leaves him hanging there.

Minghao watches Junhui’s mom get the broom again.

Junhui agrees to come with him.

who is the real monster here?

[sunwalkr]

Ship/Member: any but consider the particularly vile antics of GYUHAN
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: beyond evil AU, small town murders, forced proximities enemies to coworkers to friends(? maybe more?), the hatred to begrudging and outright respect, mentorship, what if the person you thought was the monster turned out to be you in the end
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: i am requesting — no PLEADING — for a beyond evil AU… and if no one fills this please watch it bc it is my 2022 drama of the year the writing was chefs kiss and absolutely incredible. also pls scream w me about it

anyways beyond evil is about two people who are, by circumstance, forced to become detective partners in a small rural town haunted by their own history. the younger one (graduated top of his class, very capable and handsome and a little standoffish/stiff bc he’s used to ppl wanting him for his daddy’s power so instead wants to do everything by the rule book) just moved in from the city, while the older one moved back after a while away (Has Been Through It, very questionable background and someone who does things first without explaining them and without thinking about himself — it’s almost always for other people’s good, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment — no matter what people think of him he sticks to his morals), and they have to work together when a cold case killer resurfaces. here’s the plot twist: it’s the same type of murder that the older partner had been accused of committing 20 years prior, and for him, it’s some sick sense of deva ju as everyone starts to suspect him again. and better yet, the younger partner had asked to be transferred here w the sole purpose of catching his assigned partner in the force, in the act. so thus begins this game of cat and mouse to find the real killer. psychological warfare, commence.

seokhao + greek myth

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: Seokmin/Minghao
Major Tags: MCD ?
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: seokmin orpheus and minghao eurydice. of course golden-voiced seokmin singing about love and charming all of nature with his song. and the sheer strength and all-encompassing-ness of his love for minghao. and something about the horrific pathos of seokmin turning around... rather than it being that seokmin doubts that minghao's following him, it would tear me apart if he turns around because of his inability to control his surge of desperate love.

bonus: would love it if soonwoo were hades and persephone.

[FILL]: Catch

[thesolemneyed]

Ship/Member: Seokmin/Minghao, Soonyoung/Wonwoo
Major Tags: MCD
Additional Tags: Greek Gods, Hubris
Permission to remix: Yes

i can only apologise and say that you brought this upon yourself :3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36465808

free! aka a bunch of gay boys swimming

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: Any (but ideally 97z)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: high school au ?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: au inspired by the anime free but instead of rinharu or makoharu it’s rinmakoharu. they’re ALL in love. for ideal characterisations i refer you to this tweet

wonseokhao,, please,,

[seokmin_liker]

Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Seokmin/Minghao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: mcd

Prompt: au where wonwoo is a wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love, he helps seokhao out with their wedding and maybe catches feelings for both of them along the way. this can be as angsty/happy as you want

booseoksoon footballers

[nitemareodyssey]

Ship/Member: seungkwan/seokmin/soongyoung
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: (internalised) homophobia, polyamory negotiation, Just Some Guys In The Showers, You Construct Intricate Rituals, we can't come out but we can do everything but
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: booseoksoon are football (soccer) players. they're all gay for each other. football is a very homophobic sport/milieu. angst, but also sex, ensues. please go buck wild with this. i don't want you to feel that anything is off-limits.

superhero landing!

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: Seungkwan!
Major Tags: Superhero
Additional Tags: violence? bodily disassociation?
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: Superhero AU where Seungkwan is an internationally renowned mercenary/gun-for-hire with extreme healing powers and ever loosening grips on self-preservation and reality. Yes, I know that this is just Deadpool. But I was thinking more realistic? Less spandex, more grittiness. Maybe Seungkwan is high-functioning, hiding how far he's gone until it bursts out in moments of frantic energy and violence while fighting beside his superhero buddies, idk.

dead boyfriends

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Any (but consider. mingyu)
Major Tags: Necromancy
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: Nothing too gory pls.

Prompt: Jeonghan is an animated corpse kept alive by his boyfriend who, due to his incredible necromantic powers, has never figured out how to let things go. Maybe Boyfriend thinks it's Jeonghan but it's actually someone else's stripped soul playing the role now or maybe the corpse is possessed by a demon or ghost or maybe there's nothing in there really at all and Boyfriend is deluding himself. Maybe Jeonghan hates him now. Or! Maybe they're actually happy together, Jeonghan appreciates the second life, and they just have to make sure that no one else catches on. You know, a silly little Necromantic romcom. Idk. Go wild, pls

[FILL] the rabbit in the hat

[raddled]

Ship/Member: jeonghan / seokmin (seokhan)
Major Tags: MCD, necromancy (a little?)
Additional Tags: people DIED (jeonghan)
Permission to remix: Please ask

sorry this isn’t quite what you asked for, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this prompt! i did try to make it gyuhan but i ended up feeling distressed LMAO i hope this seokhan is okay…

***

Jeonghan always liked warm baths.

Before, it was Seokmin who’d always gotten home first. It was fun then, to wait for Jeonghan’s text, and then to run the bath and toss the spell inside until fragrant clouds of steam crowded against the tiles. And to wait until Jeonghan announced himself with a rap at the front door, and clicked his tongue at the way Seokmin had left all the lights on, again.

Seokmin doesn’t leave the lights on now. And he’s still in charge of running the baths. Hotter than before, watching spells crowd the bottom of the tub until they dissolve and the water stings.

Sometimes Jeonghan will remember to smile at him and say, “Aish, Seokmin-ah. Next time let me pay for these, okay? You’re going to go bankrupt buying all these spells.”

And Seokmin will say, “Ah, hyung, you know I don’t mind. I used a voucher last time and got a great discount.”

Usually though, Jeonghan says nothing. Stripping slowly, exhausted, until he sinks naked into the water that cooks Seokmin’s skin pink when he touches it, and sighs. Then Seokmin stops watching. It’s fine, then, to leave and go cook dinner, or check his emails, or go back to his book. But he leaves the bathroom door ajar every time, just in case.

-

When Jeonghan died, Seokmin cried so hard his head hurt for days. At first he thought it was grief, until he realized that he was just angry. Angry at the cancer that wouldn’t go away, angry at the witches at the hospital who couldn’t do anything, and angry at Jeonghan for dying quietly in his hospital bed while Seokmin had been buying Chapagetti at the convenience store on the third floor.

“Don’t do anything you might regret, hyung,” Seungkwan said, although it was a little hard to understand through his small, hiccuping sobs. They were sitting in line at the hospital’s billing and payment center, waiting for Jeonghan’s papers to be released.

“I don't know why everyone thinks I’m going to do something stupid,” Seokmin said stubbornly. The thin skin of his undereyes felt rubbed raw. Someone over the PA was calling for Dr. Park to please go to the pediatric ward. “It’s super annoying.”

“It’s not— stupid,” Seungkwan’s voice started shaking, and Seokmin felt his eyes filling up again. “It’s not stupid to be in mourning. I miss hyung, too—“ Seungkwan hiccuped, and then blew his nose, “— But you know how Park Jiwon’s cousin died and her aunt went kind of crazy—”

“Okay,” Seokmin said stubbornly, blinking away tears. He scowled at the floor. “I don’t see what that has to do with me, though?”

“She, like, took out a loan,” Seungkwan insisted. “It’s taking forever to pay back and the interest rates are so bad and she had to sell their house and move into an ugly little apartment. Hyung, you don’t even have a house to sell.”

“Okay, so?” The lady at the counter called out Jeonghan’s patient number. Seokmin stood up and shook his head. “She was happy, right?”

Seungkwan’s face, pink from crying, paled quickly. “Lee Seokmin,” he said, “Don’t do what I think you’re about to do!”

“I’m just saying,” Seokmin grumbled, and then he went up to the lady at the counter and said, “Um, how much for a resurrection package?”

-

Jeonghan likes to joke around and call himself Jeonghannie Number Two. It gets him giggling when nothing else will, the sound of it high and tinkly. He likes to pull it out for whatever, but especially when his body won't work quite right.

“Oops,” he’ll say, after his hands shake so hard he knocks a glass of water onto the floor. “That’s Jeonghannie Number Two’s fault!”

“Wah!” he’ll say, after his knees give out on a walk. “Jeonghannie Number Two isn’t working quite right!”

It makes Seokmin feel a little crazy, but he laughs along every time.

-

They didn’t really talk about it when Jeonghan woke back up.

Same hospital, same cool white lights, same scratchy hospital blanket. The witches beside him were watching the monitor, but Seokmin was watching Jeonghan’s face. Pale, waxy-looking under the bright lights, and then shuddering as his heart started back up.

Jeonghan gave a little gasp. He opened his eyes and looked straight at Seokmin.

“Ah,” he said after a moment, and then sighed.

“Yoon Jeonghan-ssi,” the head witch said, leaning over to take his pulse. “Can you tell me your full name and how old you are?”

“Sure,” Jeonghan said, “why not.” The flatness of his voice, the way he flexed his toes and fingers, the way he turned his head to answer the attending witch’s questions— it was all a little wrong. Seokmin had to look away, then.

-

For a while, Seokmin felt awful that he didn’t feel awful, but eventually he stops thinking about it. The truth is that everything isn’t worse or better than before. And that’s fine.

Jeonghannie Number Two isn’t quite Jeonghan, but he isn’t not Jeonghan either. Seokmin keeps a little tally of all his new quirks. It gets a little longer as time passes.

Jeonghannie Number Two eats a lot less than before, and sometimes spends days sleeping. And he always gets cold at the end of the day, even at the height of summer. They haven’t had sex since Jeonghan woke up, but truthfully Seokmin feels like it’s a little rude to ask. They still kiss.

It’s all fine. Resurrection is a little different for everyone. When Seungkwan started talking to him again, he told Seokmin that it could have been much worse. For instance, Park Jiwon’s cousin only likes to eat raw meat. Gross.

“What are you thinking about, Seokmin-ah?” Jeonghan whispers suddenly. The light spell is still running, throwing long shadows at the bedroom ceiling.

“Work,” Seokmin lies. He reaches over the blanket to hold Jeonghan’s hand, running his thumb over the bony knuckles. A little apology for the untruth. “The end of Q2 is coming up. I just don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Aish,” Jeonghan says. He squeezes Seokmin’s hand unsteadily. “Our Seokmin is so diligent. Of course you’ll do well.”

“I hope so.” A little pause. “What were you thinking about?”

Seokmin doesn’t have a house to sell. Instead, he doesn’t renew his actor’s contract after the end of the first run. He applies to a company with a neat salary, raises every two years, and a good health insurance package. He stops shopping online, except for hot water spells and groceries. He keeps the lights off as much as he can.

Everything’s a little bit different now, but different doesn’t mean bad. It feels a little heroic when he thinks about it that way.

“I don’t know,” is Jeonghan’s reply. “A little bit of this and that.”

“Oh,” Seokmin says. He blinks up at the ceiling, watching the dimming light. “That’s nice.”

Seokmin should feel grateful, and when he tries a little he does. It could have been much worse.

sao sucks, but

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: Soonwoo
Major Tags: Sword Art Online-esque, trapped in a virtual reality multiplayer game
Additional Tags: Video game jokes, mortal peril, angst
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: SAO-esque AU where Wonwoo is an expert player at some virtual reality video game. One day, after Wonwoo has to fight off some troll with a terrible tiger catboy avatar, the video game creator traps all of the players inside the game. If they log off, they die irl, if they die in the game, they die irl. The only way to get out is if one player levels up high enough to beat the game. All avatars revert back to the player's actual physical appearance. Wonwoo is a Serious Gamer but somehow gets stuck protecting the terrible tiger catboy guy, Soonyoung, who has never played a video game in his life and was only using his cousin's account to harass people in his very expensive tiger boy skin.

vocaloid Joshua Hong

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: JOSHUA HONG/Any
Major Tags: AI, futuristic, the horror of sentience
Additional Tags:
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: In the distance future, corporations have begun to create artificial bodies (70% organic/cloned, 30% computer) for vocaloids and other characters in order to better perform (organic bodies help get rid of uncanny valley that comes with holograms/animatronics/etc). Joshua Hong has been a sweet, accoustic vocaloid and character that rose to fame because of his soft art, cute cameos in comics/merchandise, etc, and is one of the first to be put into one of these artificial bodies. He's supposed to be nothing more than a carefully programmed version of his character. But alas. Perhaps. He is more alive than he should be. (thunder boom) What is it like when you are you but you are also a character who is sold/bought, with an established fanbase, established lore and personality, etc.

(very open, can do with how you want. Maybe horror, maybe angst, maybe soft/sad)

[FILL] in the flesh

[sido_rlo]

Ship/Member: Joshua
Major Tags: mild body horror (the horror of having a body), AI-adjacent
Additional Tags: general discussion of death
Permission to remix: Yes

cross-posted to ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/36761146

***

In every way except for one, Joshua Hong is a perfect replica of his digital forebear. His face was a flawless success, his doe-like features rendered in soft, fleshy 3D, clothed in skin that needs no intervention to be exquisite. His height, his proportions, the length of his lashes and fingers are all exactly as described by years of accumulated online lore — mostly information officially established by his parent company, Pledis, but with the addition of a few details so fervently possessed by fans that they had become physical truth: a touch of Californian vocal fry, a shortened love line on his left palm, a scar on his right knee from a bike accident that never happened. But although, when asked, Pledis representatives will say that the Joshua Hong Project went off without a hitch, there is one detail that was neither programmed nor headcanoned into the artificial idol’s new life: Joshua Hong is a vegetarian.

Before he was born in blood, Joshua Hong lived for 9 years as a digital celebrity. Originally a character in a webtoon, the perpetually-23 Korean American acoustic singer (a rival love interest to the protagonist’s eventual match, a bad-boy ex-idol with a mysterious past) rose to fame first in viral screenshots of his exquisitely drawn beauty and squeaky-clean boyfriendisms. Then, Pledis acquired his copyright in a new business venture that aimed to “debut” virtual idols with preexisting online popularity. Of the four idols the company released (including an infamously thirsted-after pinup-girl ramen mascot and rip-off of a rip-off of a children’s animation character, all grown up) only Joshua Hong (TM) took off. But so immediate and incendiary was his popularity that entertainment companies began to follow in droves, debuting virtual idols with talents and personality traits assembled from fan surveys, from Netflix side characters, from living idols who’d aged out. Still, Joshua was the first; he was the blueprint that, in 2025, would be mapped onto a nearly-but-not-quite human body and reborn.

He had awakened with a smile on his face; nearly all the technicians in the room had swooned. When he had opened his mouth, his Korean was perfect except for the slightest American growl on his ㄹs, and of course, his English was even more flawless, the code being written by a school of native speakers. He had woken up hungry and able to express it politely, but when he was brought a dish of hanwoo steak and rice (only the finest of first meals) he had stared at the meat in front of him and thought, that’s me.

It’s not that Joshua didn’t know who he was. He knew himself innately: all 23 years of his life that had occurred since he came into existence 9 years ago. He knew he was a singer and that he loved it; he knew that he had fans and that he loved them; he remembered every memory that formed his personality, complex in only the way someone who has lived and been kept alive in the brains of millions can be. But suddenly, at the moment he was reborn, he found himself possessed by a single brain, one that belonged to him, and alive in a way that he had never known — physically, chemically, viscerally. In the mirror, he looked exactly like himself, but underneath the coding in his head that chanted that’s you that’s you that’s you was another voice that spoke not in language, but in images that never stop.

He is 2 years old, now, (or rather, he is 25, something he has never been before) and he spends his days imagining his veins and the red blood flowing through them; his muscles, wet and glistening even in the dark interior of his body, pulling on his precisely measured bones when he dances; the churn of acid in his stomach. He sweats and breathes and even cries — something he discovered onstage at his debut concert, looking out at the packed arena of fans in front of him. The fancams of his first tears had gone viral, and he watches them frequently, almost obsessively, transfixed by his expression of bewilderment and near-fear as he lifts a manicured hand from his mic stand and presses it delicately to his face, feeling there the salty, sparkling evidence of his new humanity. He knows now that nearly every fan in attendance had cried with him then, overwhelmed by the expression of life they were witnessing, how unbelievable it had been that their idol now stood in front of them in flesh and blood, every bit as perfect as they had imagined.

He has nearly grown out of his team of managers who had eased him into life; now, he just has the one, a kind man who has buzzed his hair weekly since his time in the military, where he had discovered that rules and regiment were possibly his favorite things in life. He picks Joshua up from his spacious bachelor pad in the morning, drops him off at night (among all the things that Joshua is capable of, he is not allowed to drive — it is too much of a liability for his makers), and keeps track of his schedule with such vigilance that Joshua barely needs to pay attention to it himself. Joshua loves working — though he knows he was programmed to, it also cuts into the time he spends at home, staring in the mirror, opening his mouth and looking as far as he can into his pink throat, or perhaps smudging his nose on the glass as he inspects his eyes for the tear ducts that appear like pinpricks in the inner corners of their wet rims. Other times, he lays in bed in the dark, fingers prodding at his skin. He maps the bones in his face, counts his ribs, thinking about the story that lives in his brain under “beliefs,” about how Eve was created from just one. Whose rib was taken to make me? He thinks. The artist who drew me and died in a car accident before he could claim me as intellectual property, casting me into the open auction of the public domain? The fans who fleshed me out in fiction and imagination, who gave me life before the technology even existed? The manufacturer of my actual bones, whose biological makeup is so close to that of real humans that when I eventually die, I will be able to buried and not disposed of as non-human biological waste?

Though Joshua needs sleep, he keeps himself up with thoughts of rot. Before he existed enough to have any say in the matter, the question of his death was hotly debated, but the answer came fairly easily: Of course he would die. The technology could not be trusted to grant him real life without an equally real decline — it was not yet that advanced. And besides, no product’s popularity is immortal. Why curse a person to live past his eventual fall out of fashion? A death is the perfect way to wrap up love, the strongest final marketing push — from reality back into memory.

Joshua has been assured again and again that his death has not been planned — it will happen when it happens, just as it does for all other people — but the idea of it has such a crushing grip on him that it feels almost predetermined, though in his innumerable imagined variations. He will forget how to swim and drown on vacation. He will be suddenly stricken with heart disease. He will be poisoned by a fan. It will happen when he is relatively young, in his 40s, or, if he successfully transitions into acting, when he is very old, a few years after he wins a prestigious American award for playing a character who cannot speak English. He has already been in one movie, a zombie flick in which his character’s death (desperately leaping from a building in order to not be changed and hunt down his younger brother, who will ultimately not survive anyway) sent fans into such delighted despair that he can already imagine what it will be like when he does die. His instagram account will be carefully archived — it belongs to the company, not him — and his funeral photographed from every angle. In the ground, his body will bloom with real life, devoured by organic things that were born minuscule and invisible and with no purpose except to live until they stop.

At night, it is with this thought that Joshua finally allows himself to sleep. In the morning, he will wake with the ring of a single alarm. He will check his schedule, which is ever-changing but predictable — studio, fansign, wardrobe fitting, dance practice, photo shoot, music show. He will eat a breakfast of rice and gim, later refuse the catered lunchboxes (bulgogi or jjigae loaded with bits of pork) at his first appointment of the day. In the makeup chair, his makeup artist will tut at the dark circles beneath his eyes, and he will hear her whisper to a colleague, “I didn’t know that was possible. Do you think it’s a glitch?” And he will close his eyes under the touch of multiple people’s warm hands, under the fizzing fluorescent lights of the green room, under the weight of this life that he has been given, and listen to his blood rush in his ears until it is time to go onstage.

chronic hanahaki

[pamantha]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: Chronic Hanahaki, chronic illness, sickfic
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: Chronic Hanahaki! based on these tumblr posts: https://professorsparklepants.tumblr.com/post/190413915845/not-enough-chronic-illness-in-fanfic-shout-out-to

[FILL] the part of me that's already buried

[notspring]

Ship/Member: Minghao/?
Major Tags: Hanahaki disease, chronic illness
Additional Tags: vomiting, implied (very minor) character death
Permission to remix: Please ask

***

The producers like it, at least. After all, what’s more romantic than being chronically heartbroken, spitting out flower petals as a sign of true love?

The reality of it is different, of course. Uglier. A cough that never goes away, a chronic itch at the back of the throat. The occasional flare up, disrupting work or sleep to go cough over a toilet until something comes up, retching sounds loud enough to be unmistakeable.

When Seungcheol got it just after debut everyone at the company was worried, but they’d still put out a press release. Seungcheol told Minghao later that he regretted letting them do it, that if he could go back he would have made a different decision, but Minghao isn’t sure how much say he really had in the first place. The sick part is that it did help Seungcheol’s image — softened him, gave him a sensitive side that fans couldn’t see before — tough on the outside, but tender on the inside. Strong yet delicate. Even now, it still comes up when anyone talks about Seventeen’s leader S.Coups.

No one knew about Minghao yet back then. He was still holding it like a secret, breathing through the urge to cough and drinking twice as much water at practice as anyone else, hoping against his own better judgment that moving so far away would be enough to fix it.

Seungcheol’s condition cleared up in few months — Minghao never asked him what happened, if he talked to that person to clear the air or if the feelings just faded with time.

Seungcheol got better, but Minghao didn’t.

*

The coughing wakes him up in the middle of the night, unwelcome but familiar, and Minghao sits up on instinct to try to clear it, taking slow breaths as he reaches for the water he always keeps on the nightstand.

As he sets the glass back he looks over towards Junhui’s bed to see if he’s still awake, one hand coming up to clutch his chest when he sees the faint light from the window reflected in Junhui’s open eyes.

“Jesus,” Minghao breathes, laughing a little before he forces himself to let out another breath. Junhui doesn’t say anything, just watches him with silent, slowly blinking eyes. Minghao feels himself sliding down the pillows, too tired to stay upright for real, his own eyes drifting shut. Silence spreads between them, as familiar as it is lonely.

“Still?”

Junhui’s voice comes suddenly, so quiet it’s barely audible against the hum of the air conditioner.

Minghao stills, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

He doesn’t answer, either. He knows Junhui doesn’t really need him to.

*

“You should have fallen in love with me,” Seokmin says on a burst of nervous laughter, rubbing one hand up and down Minghao’s back as Minghao presses his head between his knees and tries to breathe. He didn’t disrupt filming, at least — they took a break to reset the lighting, and they’re doing solo shots next. Minghao will just have to go last. He’s sure he can pull himself together before then.

“I would have loved you back,” Seokmin continues. He sounds really genuine about it, like it’s that simple. Like it’s something he could make himself do.

Maybe it is, for Seokmin. He’s full of love in general, the kind words that flow out of him standing worlds apart from the miserable dead things Minghao coughs up.

Speaking of —

Minghao groans and leans forward as a deep cough shudders through him, wincing when he has no choice but to spit it out. He hates this part so much — it burns on the way up, something sharp poking at the back of his throat, and when Minghao leans forward to expect it he sees a tiny sprig with just one tiny blossom, sad and sodden in a puddle of bile on the floor.

“Sorry,” he says, flushing, twisting to look for a staff member. He usually carries tissues but they’re filming — bad timing in more ways than one. Seokmin pushes him down before he can stand, though, hands warm on his shoulders.

“Stay,” he says firmly, holding a finger to Minghao’s mouth when he tries to protest until Minghao nods, miserably, and stays.

*

“You really can’t keep doing this,” Mingyu says in the car on the way home from the airport, frowning when Minghao takes in another rattling breath, struggling against the obstruction in his lungs. It’ll feel better if he just coughs it out, he knows, but it’ll hurt so badly on the way up that it’s still hard to make himself do it. He can’t now, anyway. They’re still in the car.

“It’s not on purpose,” Minghao bites out, annoyed. Mingyu knows that — he knows Mingyu knows.

Sure enough Mingyu sighs, some of his impatience leaking out with it. One big hand comes to rest on the back of Minghao’s neck, thumb rubbing against his hairline. Minghao doesn't shrug it off.

“I know.” Mingyu’s voice is very quiet. “I’m sorry.”

Minghao shrugs.

“Inho-hyung — he went with us to Saipan, remember? The one who always wore that red cap — he said that if you talk to the person it can really — ”

“I can’t,” Minghao cuts in, voice flat, as firm as he can get it when he still can’t take a proper breath.

“But — ” Mingyu starts, but Minghao cuts him off again.

“I can’t,” he repeats, and Mingyu stares at him in confusion until —

“Oh,” he says faintly. “Oh god, Myungho, I didn’t — ”

“It’s fine,” Minghao lies, the words heavy like dead things in his mouth. Dead, like —

He swallows hard against the bile that threatens to rise up.

“I didn’t know,” Mingyu finishes on a whisper, eyes wide, so much sympathy Minghao has to look away.

When they get back to the dorm he’s up all night coughing, loud enough to earn a u ok? text from Vernon, followed immediately by a questioning knock against their shared wall. Minghao knocks back right away as he types out an apologetic response, exhausted and humiliated and alone, always alone.

He doesn’t regret it, even now. His head and stomach ache from coughing and the back of his throat burns, but he still doesn’t consider giving it up.

After all — if he lets this go, what will be left? If Minghao doesn’t hold onto the memory, who will?

Minghao’s afraid of forgetting most of all.

Dbh au

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: I cannot believe that in the year of our lord 2022 I am still thinking about this godforsaken game but oh well. So, a Detroit become human au, I'd love to see some of the members as androids and their deviancy/humanity explored. Maybe they're android idols? Or maybe you want to stick closer to the original plot? Either way I'd love something in this world.

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Soonwoo
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: trauma, roommates
Do Not Wants: mcd

Prompt: [Wonwoo who sleeps better with soonyoung around. Can pick any alternative universe to explain wonwoo's trauma that results in disturbed sleep!]

[FILL] busa, tulog na

[wonwoes]

Ship/Member: Soonyoung / Wonwoo
Major Tags: Non-Major Character Death (mentioned only).
Additional Tags: fluff, ambiguous relationships, college AU, crack, (failed) attempts at humor, open-ending???
Permission to remix: Please ask / Also going for Year of the Tiger if this counts!

A/N: Title's from a Cebuano song by Chai Fonacier called Laylay and it translates to sleep, now.
***

Wonwoo’s not sleeping.

Soonyoung can tell as much by the conscious intakes of his breath and how Wonwoo's lids flutter ever so often, enough for Soonyoung to turn off the desk light and close his laptop with a quiet thud.

Then, he bridges what little space afforded to them by shitty college dorms and the clutter of yesterday's all-nighter.

Soonyoung almost steps on a stray pen.

The bed is warm with Wonwoo’s body heat and it’s easier to slip under the covers than pretend Soonyoung understands what he was reading from two hours ago.

Studying or sleeping (with Wonwoo)? Definitely the latter.

It takes a second for Wonwoo to notice that Soonyoung is now beside him but when he does, it's like his entire body drops into a contented sigh and Soonyoung can feel Wonwoo's arms caging him in, drawing his body close.

“Still can’t sleep?” Soonyoung asks, rubbing nonsensical patterns on the older’s chest because he knows Wonwoo loves it and it's another way to help him sleep.

“Mhm.” Wonwoo exhales, "You took too long."

It's late in the evening and the street lamps from outside bathe the room in a quiet glow. There are sounds from every corner of the room, no doubt other college students still up studying, partying, a combination of both or other activities that does not require Soonyoung’s input, right now.

But if Soonyoung presses his ear close to Wonwoo’s chest, it all becomes muffled—white noise.

He can already feel the sleep overtake his senses.

And it seems like Wonwoo is on his way, too.

"Sorry, I have a test in three days." He murmurs, snuggling even more to Wonwoo's side. "Wanted to read ahead."

This close, Soonyoung can smell the detergent the two of them share (everything's expensive when you start living in your own) and from where his cheek is squished against Wonwoo's chest, he can feel the softness of Wonwoo's sleep shirt.

The kind that is worn often, well-loved.

"Tell me if you want company in the library tomorrow," Wonwoo's already deep voice drops several octaves lower when he's right at the cusp of sleep.

It's strangely comforting.

"My class ends at noon."

"Mhm." Soonyoung nods, "I'll text you."

Sleeping with your room mate had not been part of the itinerary Soonyoung thought he’d be doing in his entire college career.

Well, people are bound to sleep with each other at some point cause, duh, college and hormones.

But there was nothing sexual nor romantic going on between the both of them, even if it had been going on for four semesters already and Soonyoung knows Wonwoo’s entire sleeping pattern like it's the back of his hand.

(As much as he knows what Wonwoo’s order in Starbucks is—black, like my soul, Wonwoo had said and Soonyoung wished he was kidding; how Saturdays are off-limits for whatever rendezvous Soonyoung can think off when he's been reading for more than five hours straight and needs a change of scenery because it’s the only time Wonwoo’s and his little brother’s schedule can match up, enough for a phone call; how Wonwoo hates sea food enough for Soonyoung to stop suggesting his favorite sushi place when they’re out-campus and drag Wonwoo to the nearest tteokbokki stall, instead; what Wonwoo sounds like when he’s feeling good—Soonyoung had made the classic room mate mistake of walking in on Wonwoo once, while the Engineering major was in the shower and had vowed to never do it again through a series of red-faced apologies and then some more after the older was dressed; and how Wonwoo can’t sleep without someone beside him because he’s scared to die in his sleep just like his dad did, when he was seven years old.)

It was something Soonyoung didn’t expect from Wonwoo, with how the older was always put together all the time. Always looking the part of the well-adjusted college student Soonyoung’s been trying to mimic since freshman year.

(He’s still trying.)

But then again you shouldn’t judge people, Soonyoung-ah comes his noona’s scolding and the second his brain connected the dots after Month 2 of sharing a room with Wonwoo whose eyebags have only been getting darker and darker every passing day.

Soonyoung didn’t hesitate to ask Wonwoo if he could help.

It would be well and fine to say that the entire exchange went smoothly but unfortunately, Soonyoung had just the recent epiphany that he may or may not (definitely may) have a crush on his room mate and had to stammer through the entire thing. Which, probably didn’t help his entire cause.

Much less convince Wonwoo that he wasn't a weirdo.

Soonyoung also swears he’s not doing it for nefarious purposes (he is not, Minghao thank you very much!) and just simply wanted to help a room mate out.

Soonyoung had an entire game plan for college and that consisted getting along with everyone because that meant lesser stress and now, it also involves being his room mate’s pseudo-body pillow for however long their lease allows them inside the campus grounds.

(“Point to me the part where that makes sense.”

Minghao is looking at him like Soonyoung’s done a stupid again, it’s no different from his usual expression—does that mean Soonyoung is stupid all the time???—and it makes Soonyoung shrink in his seat.

“Well, what if he starts being stressed cause he’s losing sleep and picks a fight with me?”

“What is this? A bad plot for a romance movie? He’s a rational person, hyung. Not Noah Centineo.”)

It's a miracle that Wonwoo agreed and didn’t just put a restraining order against Soonyoung, like Jihoon had been betting alongside Jun.

Those bastards.

The first time had been awkward as fuck and Soonyoung couldn’t sleep until the early hours of the morning because he was worried that he was too fussy or God forbid...he had morning breath.

That was not a good impression to leave your potential crush with, even if Soonyoung swears he’s just doing this to help Wonwoo achieve optimal health.

But when morning came, Wonwoo looked marginally better and the bags under his eyes were less severe. The smile Wonwoo gave Soonyoung when he woke up was enough to solidify that oh, I really do have a crush on him moment in Soonyoung's brain.

He still counts it as a win.

Then, it just became their thing.

Soonyoung doesn’t remember the last time he slept on his own bed over the course of their thing. His mattress had become a dumping ground for clothes and other shit they couldn’t cram in their closets anymore, his pillows and blankets completely migrating over to Wonwoo's.

(Wonwoo had stared at him dead-eyed for a whole minute when Soonyoung held up his tiger-printed pillow cases on the first night but didn't say anything about it and simply made room for Soonyoung to squeeze into.

Not even when Soonyoung's alarm went off the next day, the opening bars to the Horanghae birthday song Jihoon gave him last year, blaring loudly inside the tiny room.)

Soonyoung’s phone is right beside Wonwoo’s on the bedside table mixed with an opened box of Tiger Balm patches and Wonwoo’s eye drops.

If there was a line between the both of them, Soonyoung thinks that had been crossed a long, long time ago.

But if something were to happen between the two of them, shouldn't it have happened sooner?

Soonyoung doesn't know, he's been living in celibacy since his diaper days.

Nevertheless, sleeping with Wonwoo has its perks and it isn't as complicated as his friends make it out to be, when he tells them that their thing is still happening.

(He gets back rubs and cuddles, sue him.)

They were just two stressed college student that could use some TLC from time-to-time and it didn't have to mean anything.

Right?

But when Wonwoo drops a kiss at the crown of Soonyoung's head right before he succumbs to sleep, Soonyoung wants for it to mean something.

***

I hope this is to your liking anon! Thank you for the prompt ♡

I'm seouljwons on Twitter and lattewon on Ao3!

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: Soonyoung/any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: platonic vs romantic love
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: parody of rom coms

haikyuu! au

[shuamuses]

Ship/Member: Any, genfic is ok too!!
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Just Boys Being Boys™️, the inherent homoeroticism of competitive sports
Do Not Wants: MCD

Prompt: seungcheol!daichi-isms as he tries to wrangle the team together, sebongies pushing each other to be their best selves, rivalry between players who are vying for the same spot on court? literally go ham i will love u regardless if you fill this.

trc au

[shuamuses]

Ship/Member: Any, though dreamer!jeonghan or dreamer!wonwoo or gansey!minghao all make my heart ache
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: magic realism
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: the blue/gansey dynamic of thinking your kiss will kill them and doing it anyway. a sebong who just has such an inherent connection to the land they live on that they can pull from the ley line without realizing it.

or: a dreamer who can’t stop bringing the strangest things back into existence, to the point where their partner cannot be surprised anymore.

or: two dreamers who meet each other in the dreamspace for the first time after thinking they were The Only One — are they relieved to have company, to not have to do it alone? Or do they resent feeling like they’re no longer special?

one day i'll touch the world with bare hands, even if it burns

[fleurissons]

Ship/Member: Any, would love a wonhui or seokhao
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: He is Psychometric AU, clashing love languages, intimacy level 1700, it's the hand cupping the cheek for me, fingers ghosting across eyebrows
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: He is Psychometric's main character has the ability to read other people's memories through touch, but as this can be overwhelming both physically and mentally, he avoids using it as much as he can.

now... picture SVT's social club photobook, them wearing veils and gloves as literal shields. turning into a voluntary recluse because they've seen enough of the world. falling in love with someone whose love language is physical touch, and being scared to even see a sliver of skin because they might not be the person they think they are, and they might see everything bad about them. or worse, they might see everything good?

the drama has a crime-solving aspect to; but feel free to go crazy with whatever angle works. if you do take the visualisation into account, the setting is flexible too!

Re: [FILL] one day i'll touch the world with bare hands again

[moonlitmelodiesfic]

Ship/Member: Minghao/Seokmin (?)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: idolverse, unrequited feelings, minghao-centric, non-linear narrative, hurt/comfort-ish, angst(?)
Permission to remix: Yes
wc and a/n: 1813; special thanks to wren and pb for taking the time to beta this!! really appreciate all your help! also this is rather loose around the prompt...i tried my best to incorporate this premise without any knowledge beforehand of its detailed functioning. i haven't watched the drama...
***

“You’ve been acting differently lately.” Seokmin is lingering in the doorway of Minghao’s room, an unusual hesitation drifting around his shoulders. He’s being more careful than normal, tense on the threshold as though he’s afraid to trespass. Minghao wants to smooth that hesitation from his face, empty his pockets of it. And then he thinks of his hands on skin, that choking sensation of being sucked out of his body and hurled into an unfamiliar setting, and squashes the thought.

“Have I?” He should tell Seokmin to come in. He should tell Seokmin to stop hesitating and just walk in like he always used to do. He shouldn’t have to say those things. Once upon a time, he didn’t have to. Come to think of it, he can’t recall the last time someone has just lovingly barged into his room just to hold him.

Seokmin makes a noncommittal hum, still sounding so careful. Minghao hates the lack of ease and knows he’s to blame. And he hates that, too.

“Are you going to come in?” Maybe some of his frustration bleeds into his voice. Seokmin’s head snaps up, ambivalence flashing across his face, like he no longer knows quite how to feel around Minghao. He ignores the hurt that thought creates fervently, as though he could wish the truth away. By the door, Seokmin is still indecisive.

“Well, I—do you want me to come in?” Seokmin is being respectful, Minghao knows, but a part of Minghao thinks they should be past this, that a near decade of cohabitation means they don’t have to ask for permission or toe gingerly at boundaries. He has no right to be thinking this, not when he created this distance himself, but it’s difficult to remain rational at all times, especially when in front of him, looking at Minghao like he’s a creature he’s uncertain of, is Lee Seokmin.

“Yes, Seokmin-ah,” Minghao sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face, weariness buckling his shoulders. “I want you to—please come in.”




The first one to confront him had been Seungcheol. Doing his leader duties, perhaps.

“Myungho-yah,” Seungcheol says, and his voice is gentle, but Minghao can hear echoes of disapproval already. He heaves a sigh and turns to face Seungcheol, palms pressing against the cold granite of the counter where his tea is steeping.

Seungcheol is dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants, hair a tousled mass on his head. He looks soft, sleepy, and Minghao is struck by the urge to hug him, sink into his arms. But memories of nausea and dizziness push up his throat like phantom vomit and he clamps down on the desire.

“Yes hyung,” he mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor. For some reason, a confrontational Seungcheol, even the softened version in front of him, is hard to maintain eye contact with. Seungcheol comes closer.

“Have you been uncomfortable with skinship lately?” There’s nothing accusatory in his tone, but Minghao still feels himself tighten, posture tense in a way that’s probably glaringly obvious to Seungcheol.

“Because even though it may not be the most comfortable thing, it’s a part of our job, part of expectations.” And there’s the disapproval. Yes, Minghao wants to say, I understand that, it’s just—

“Why have you been shying away, Myungho-yah? From what I know you’ve never been this uncomfortable with skinship.” Circumstances change. Minghao says nothing. The silence answers for him.

Seungcheol reaches up a hand to cup his jaw, the most natural way for him to reassure. Minghao ducks out of his hold almost unconsciously, sliding away from Seungcheol along the countertop edge. The hurt is immediate in Seungcheol’s eyes. Minghao expected that; he just hadn’t anticipated the resounding echo of that pain in his own chest. Maybe the sudden deprivation of tactile reassurance has affected him more than he thought.

“See!” Seungcheol’s voice has risen in pitch, and it bounces horribly against Minghao’s eardrums. “That’s what I mean!” Guilt tumbles hollowly through his rib cage. How does he apologize for something he can’t really control? How does he apologize if it’s for self-protection? Minghao turns around again, pours the tea to distract himself. Seungcheol’s arms wrap around his waist. Instantly he tenses, but Seungcheol is nothing if not headstrong at the best and worst of times, and he stays stubbornly there until Minghao relaxes minutely, realizing that Seungcheol isn’t touching him anywhere that’s skin against skin.

He lets himself absorb Seungcheol’s warmth. Gosh, it’s nice to be held again. He presses into the hug carefully. Seungcheol’s arms tighten reflexively.

“What’s been going on, Eisa-yah? I hope you’ll tell me someday.”

“I’ll try more,” Minghao answers, not quite to the previous question, trying to offer some sort of compensation. “If you’re worried about the group’s image.” Seungcheol shakes his head, a movement Minghao feels rather than sees.

“No, Myungho,” and he sounds sad, “I’m worried about you.”



It happened overnight. He’d gone to bed perfectly normal, and then woken up the following morning to find that touching his members also means invading their memories.

It’s a shopping list of moments.

Brushing hands with Soonyoung in the bathroom while they’re brushing their teeth, choking on his toothpaste when images of a particular type of self-exploration rise in his mind’s eye. It results in him spluttering and blushing madly, head dizzy and brain struggling to process exactly what he’d just seen. Soonyoung had reached out and Minghao had wrenched himself away, hurriedly rinsing his mouth and stumbling out of the bathroom. He hadn’t been able to make eye contact with Soonyoung for the rest of that day.

Vernon crossing their bare ankles together on the couch, habitually. The vertigo that sweeps in for that is less intense, but it leaves him breathless regardless, and a head full of images that don’t belong to him. A movie Vernon watched with Joshua. A grocery shopping trip with Chan. Seungkwan’s smile. Taking photos at the park.

Jeonghan squeezing their hands together on a car ride. Tear-stained cheeks flash across Minghao’s vision. Long blonde hair, confusion, insecurity. Trembling shoulders backstage at Ode To You. Freedom at the hair salon. Laughing with Seokmin, bickering with Mingyu. A briefest glimpse of a kiss with Seungcheol. An overwhelming mix of emotions rolls through him, and despite the way it leaves him winded, Minghao holds on, squeezes back. Jeonghan gives him a smile in response.

And now Seokmin. Cupping his face, kissing his cheek. His memories come in like unforgiving tides, emotions like wind torrenting through Minghao until it leaves him battered. Seokmin smiling at a little girl. Seokmin laughing. Seokmin feeding a stray dog—and oh, Minghao did not know about that. Seokmin hugging Mingyu, teasing Jeonghan, messing with Seungkwan, indulging Chan. Every single one of his memories is soaked in so much happiness that it tugs at those old, buried feelings he’d sworn not to unearth. He barely manages to come back from it all.

“Are you okay?” Concern, in Seokmin’s voice. His hands are still framing Minghao’s face, and the memories still haven’t fully receded. Seokmin, beaming with all the fondness his smile is capable of holding at Minghao. Seokmin, texting Minghao that he misses him not even twenty four hours after he’s left Korean soil. Seokmin, saying, oh Myungho, you know I love you, just not—

“Yes,” he gasps out, chest heaving a little. His eyes refocus on Seokmin in front of him. “Yes, I’m fine.” He pulls Seokmin’s fingers from his face, squeezes them once so as to not come across too cold, and walks away.

He’s so drained by the end of the day that he’s deep asleep already in the car. Seungcheol has to carry him inside.




Seokmin settles himself gingerly on the margin of Minghao’s bed. The space between them feels very much intentional and it hurts. There hasn’t ever really been a need for so much space between them. Contact had been synonymous with comfort for as long as he can remember. There wasn’t much choice anyway, when they were all long and lanky and uncoordinated boys crammed into small rooms at a poor company. They had to learn to grow on top of and around each other.

But now, Seokmin positions himself like he’s ready to go at any second. Minghao has never felt more unwanted in his own room.

“What did you want to talk about?” Careful, careful, so careful. Everything about the threads of this conversation is circumspect. Seokmin flounders a little.

“Ah—well, um, it’s just that,” he pauses, a hand on the back of his neck, looking down at his lap, “you’ve been more withdrawn than usual. The members are worried.” Minghao’s heart sinks. The last thing he wanted was to bring the members down with him. He’d thought he could just pull away and deal with it on his own, lessen contact to preserve his mental and physical well-being, and well, maybe step away from the pure sunshine of Seokmin for a while, just long enough for him to rebury what seeing Seokmin’s memories had dredged up again.

But of course that wasn’t going to work. Friendships longer than a decade also mean transparency, in a way that can sometimes be unnerving, intruding. But Minghao supposes an explanation is deserved.

It all pours out of him, the memories, the touches that induce them, the toll it all takes. He leaves out the parts about his feelings. That is not a wound worth revisiting. Seokmin listens through it all with a fixed attentiveness. He looks a little devastated by the time Minghao’s words come to a standstill.

“Oh Myungho,” he says, reaching out and then immediately retracting his hands, something like guilt flashing over his features. “And here I thought it was because of something we did, I did.” Minghao’s chest caves.

“No, no, never,” he says, adamant, shifting so that he’s sitting closer to Seokmin. He holds out a sleeve covered hand and prays Seokmin won’t be offended. Joy and relief bubble when Seokmin takes it unquestioningly. The renewed contact sets off relief in both of them. Seokmin slumps noticeably.

“Is it permanent?” He broaches after a while, looking down at their linked hands, like he can’t decide how much he likes the limitations on contact. Judging by his frown and pursed lips, Minghao ventures to say, not much.

“I have no idea,” Minghao admits, “I just woke up one day like this.” Seokmin accepts this with a nod.

“Do you plan on telling the others?” Minghao considers it. In all fairness, he should. They deserve to know too. They’ve been alienated just as much in the past few days by Minghao.

“Probably,” he thinks out loud. “Will you be there?” For moral support, for help, for just being there. Seokmin understands.

“Of course, always.”

Perhaps not in the way Minghao would like him to be, but he’ll take it.

It’s good like this.

this song is for you!!!

[bluerthanbluets]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: The highs and lows of being in a rock band? touring big, fancy venues and meeting adoring fans? live shows for a very small, very uncaring audience? passion vs the eternal struggle of earning your keep? just making and playing music with your bros... etc etc open for anything
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: SVT ROCK BAND AU!!!!

Some images/videos/tweets to consider: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

[FILL] roaring, roaring, roaring

[westfall]

Ship/Member: Joshua/Vernon
Major Tags: rock band, vague references to Warped Tour
Additional Tags: set in the 2010s, post-breakup, badly-processed hurt
Permission to remix: Please ask
WC: 1,064

***


you can die now.
you can die now as
people were meant to die:
great, victorious,
hearing the music, being the music,
roaring,
roaring,
roaring.

- Splash, Charles Bukowski




"Is this going to be a problem?"

Joshua looks up to meet Jeonghan's eyes. They're standing by the end of the tour bus, about forty minutes left before they hit the road. Like his, Jeonghan's shirt collar is soaked in sweat, their laborious hour of packing up and securing equipment finally over. Jeonghan's gaze is pointed but mild, not looking down even as he taps out a menthol cigarette from his pack with a well-practiced ease.

Joshua leans back against the bus, the paint cool against his neck, and pushes his bangs up out of his eyes. "Is what going to be a problem?"

Jeonghan makes an annoyed sound in his throat. "Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't," Joshua says, tamping down on the reflex to argue.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow and turns around to look behind him.

Joshua follows Jeonghan's gaze to where Vernon is sitting down on the other side of the loading bay, headphones plugged into his Zune, and swallows.

"That," Jeonghan says, sticking the filter in his mouth before rummaging around in his pockets.

Joshua's mouth goes dry, and he turns back to watch Vernon fiddle with his music player. Almost on cue, Vernon looks up and meets Joshua's eyes. Vernon holds it for a brief second before giving him a stiff smile, then pointedly looks down again.

"No," Joshua finds himself saying, almost a little too quickly. "It's not—it wasn't a big deal."

"Uh huh." Jeonghan's hands emerge from his pockets emptyhanded. "So this isn't gonna get in the way of the tour. It's not gonna make the music weird. Is what you're saying?

"Right," Joshua says. "We talked about it already. It's fine."

Jeonghan looks at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, then shrugs. "Okay. Do you have a lighter?"

"You know I don't smoke," Joshua says. "You know I wish you wouldn't."

Jeonghan takes the filter out of his mouth and tucks it behind his ear. "Why? 'Cause it's a habit you can't seem to kick, and you know you'll just want more even after you're done? Even though you know it's bad for you? Even though you tell yourself you can quit anytime?"

Even to his ears, Jeonghan's words are harsh and mocking. Joshua stares at him, the blood slow-moving and lead-like in his veins. "What are—"

"Just kidding," Jeonghan says, sing-song, and pats him on the shoulder. "I'll quit, okay? After this pack." Before Joshua can say anything else, Jeonghan stalks off to where Minghao and Seungkwan are going over inventory.

Now by himself, Joshua looks back over at Vernon, trying to stitch together the badly-hewn pieces of that memory, when Vernon had dumped him at the beginning of the summer.

I need space, he'd said. This isn't working.

This, Joshua thinks. Not me, not you. This.

Is this going to be a problem?

Joshua exhales through his teeth, then drains his water bottle in one go.

"Hey," he calls out across the loading bay, making his way over to Vernon's spot before his brain catches up to the rest of him.

Vernon looks up and pulls an earbud out. "Hey."

"Are you almost ready?" Joshua asks, stopping a couple of feet away.

"Yeah," Vernon says, wrapping his earbud wires around his Zune player. "You're driving, right?"

"Yeah."

Vernon's features settle into that inscrutable calm that Joshua has never been able to fully parse. Quietly contemplative, as Vernon looks up at him. He's still sitting, and Joshua—feeling awkward—sticks his hands in his pockets.

"Minghao said he'd switch with you tomorrow, if you want," Vernon says quietly. "For the leg between Ojai and Bakersfield. So you can rest."

"It's okay," Joshua says. "I don't mind the drive. It gives me time to think."

Vernon's mouth twists up into something Joshua can't quite comprehend. "You got a lot to think about?"

Joshua shrugs, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Well—you know."

Another moment passes like this—not quite uncomfortable, but not soothing either. Silences with Vernon are often like that. Just another thing that Joshua has learned to get used to.

Vernon turns his gaze back to him, studying him. "Are you okay?" he asks finally.

It's a bitterly-won victory, the outright extension of Vernon's quiet, careful consideration. The thing is that Vernon isn't inconsiderate—in fact, far from it. But for him to vocalize it—that's rare, and Joshua knows its value. For a moment, Joshua almost resents him, that their relationship had to take this kind of irreparable damage for him to be on the receiving end of Vernon's concern.

He inhales deeply, trying to push it from his mind. "You know me," Joshua says. "Just give me a stage. And a crowd."

"And a cold beer after?" Vernon finishes for him, lips quirking up in a smile, the kind of smile that Joshua loves. The kind that says that Vernon's attention is fully his, hard-earned, but cherished all the same.

Joshua grins in spite of himself. "Exactly."

Later that evening—when he's standing on the slick, laminate flooring of Ernie Ball stage, twenty seconds out from their first opening chord—Joshua has himself mostly-convinced that this is something he can work through.

From his side of the stage, Vernon looks up and gives him another kind of smile that Joshua loves—but this one is all teeth and a little bit of tongue, eyes curving up with the ferocity of it. This smile is the one that Joshua fell in love with, over countless summers of bad decisions, pressed up against each other, sharing skin and chords and lyrics.

"What's up, Ojai," Vernon says into the mic, and then from behind them Jeonghan's bass rumbles to life, and Minghao smashes down on the hi-hat. The crowd in front of him opens up, gapes, swallows him, and Joshua doesn't have any more time to think. His guitar is weightless, electrified in his hands, and there isn't much for him to do except to give himself over to the music, to surrender his heart over to the roar of the audience and get lost in the surge, in the rush.

Joshua's fingers are already moving, gripping his pick and the neck of his guitar. He strikes down on a G, leans into the mic, lips parted—like a kiss. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He lets go.

has my face changed, baby? how will i know?

[notspring]

Ship/Member: Any, but I think Jeonghan/Seungcheol, Junhui/Minghao, or Junhui/Wonwoo would be good… Jeonghan or Junhui as the cats obv
Major Tags: Alternate Universe — Modern with Magic, Non-Consensual Shapeshifting, False Memories
Additional Tags: does it matter if it was real or not if you still remember doing it?
Do Not Wants: MCD (permanent)

Prompt: You can read a summary of White Cat here — the premise is that curse workers have one gift/talent that they can use to “work” others (for example, altering dreams, changing memories, even killing people). The protagonist of the novel believes that he doesn’t the only person in his family who doesn’t have a curse. He also believes that when he was fourteen years old he murdered the girl he loved, which he cannot reconcile but knows to be true because he can remember standing over her body, holding a knife and laughing. This has been kept a secret from everyone by his brothers, so he is living a “normal” life while still carrying that memory / knowledge with him. Fast forward through the novel and it turns out that he is a worker, and that his memory of what happened was altered by his brothers — they were the ones who wanted him to kill her but he couldn't, so he turned her into a cat instead and now she's been coming into his dreams to torment him. I think anything about having that false memory and the self loathing that comes with it would be really really interesting. Alternately, it would also be interesting to read about someone having lived as a cat for three years and hating the person who did that to them! Many options here!!!

we do terrible things for the people we love.

[brigand]

Ship/Member: Any
Major Tags: clones, identity issues
Additional Tags: N/A
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt: orphan black au!! however this strikes your imagination, straight au of the show, or idolverse-y what if you're an international pop star and also there are 275 people with your face running around living their own individual lives and some of them kill people, or wherever else you wanna take this!

[FILL] trick mirror

[shuamuses]

Ship/Member: jeonghan
Major Tags: clones, identity issues
Additional Tags: idolverse, the only person who truly frustrates yoon jeonghan is himself, alcoholism as coping mechanism
Permission to remix: Yes

I haven’t seen the words orphan black in literal years but this really pulled forth all the love i had for that show :,)
***

he’s sitting on the rooftop of his building, legs dangling over the ledge. there is a bottle of pinot noir next to him, condensation bleeding a small ring into the concrete. six months ago his world had changed. six months ago his drinking problem had become undeniable. six months ago he realised his drinking problem must be coded into his genes, if every single clone enjoyed the same vintage of red that he did.

clones.

the word still tasted foreign and metallic on his tongue. every neuron in his mind tried to reject it, even when faced with irrefutable biological evidence. even when he realised they all had the same birthmark. same dry patch between the eyebrows. same allergy to eggs, of all things.

he would’ve gladly asked them all to give him a wide berth and never speak to him again, except.

except he’s curious against his most rational instincts.
except he needs to make sure none of them get into trouble.
except for someone in his line of work, doppelgangers are either the best or worst thing to happen to you.

he’d told jinhee to fuck off the first time he’d been approached outside his studio – couldn’t believe he was adopted, couldn’t believe he’d had a twin, let alone a dozen. his entire career had been built on some belief that he was special, that he was unique. that he alone bore the face brands wanted for their endorsements.

but the detective had been persistent, almost ridiculously so. he’d shown up in various inconvenient locations dressed in terrible disguises so bad that jeonghan had laughed and said he wouldn’t last a day undercover. he’d poked and prodded at jeonghan the exact way he’d needled his bandmates, so of course – of course in the end he couldn’t stay away.

tonight he’s waiting for a new clone to meet with him. jinhee, or the version of him who is a cop, messaged him earlier with an alarming number of case files. this was a problem they needed to quash before it grew out of control. jeonghan had sighed, said he’d take care of it, and ordered himself another case of wine.

the door leading up from the staircase swings open, and jeonghan swivels around to see a familiar silhouette shrouded in the light. as the man approaches, jeonghan’s eyes take stock of his features. almost an identical carbon copy, jeonghan notes, other than the slightly fiercer eyes and the more childlike gait.

jeonghan waves him over, patting the ground next to him in invitation. it’s always discomfiting to meet a new clone. to take inventory of the ways they are exactly the same and not.

“hi,” he begins, his throat still hoarse from a full day of recording. “i’m jeonghan. what’s your name?”

two secretaries

[(Anonymous)]

Ship/Member: I'd be eternally indebted to you if you write some sort of seoksoo and/or jeongcheol combo but whatever works really!!
Major Tags: Modern-Day AU, Buisness AU (Or a Idolverse AU if you'd like?) go wild really
Additional Tags: I picture this as pretty fluffy in my head but if you want this to go angsty that's cool with me
Do Not Wants: MCD

Prompt: ok hear me out...in those classic kdramas about CEOs there is always a trusty secretary, right? and you've heard of two CEOS falling in love but how about two secretaries falling in love, bonding over the ridiculousness of their bosses?

(bonus points if their bosses are fierce rivals, and their secretaries start to fall for each other because they see each other so often - their bosses are always picking petty fights and they're the ones cleaning up after them)

minghao pretty

[vampiredumpling]

Ship/Member: Minghao/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: little mermaid AU
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

minghao as ariel from the little mermaid based on this tweet. choose whoever you want for eric, but making eric himbo-esque would be a great bonus!

moon jun is the 14th doctor

[vampiredumpling]

Ship/Member: Jun, Jun/Any
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: doctor who AU, historical inaccuracies (because it is doctor who)
Do Not Wants: None

Prompt:

Who is The Doctor's companion? Up to you! But please consider Hoshi (for chaotic good!) or Jeonghan (for chaotic evil!), or both!