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2022 Round 2: AUs
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Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
✧ Seventeen Holidays ✧
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
How it works
Prompting
Filling
Remixing
Art/media
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
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one day i'll touch the world with bare hands, even if it burns
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
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.
Re: [FILL] one day i'll touch the world with bare hands again
Re: [FILL] one day i'll touch the world with bare hands again
Re: [FILL] one day i'll touch the world with bare hands again
you made me care about his interactions with the others and not just Seokmin, I kept rereading the scene with Seungcheol and I couldn't move past it. Seungcheol being tender and insistent at the same time, how hurt he'd been to face rejection, the back hug. the!!! back!!! hug!!! thinking about their size differences and how Seungcheol would easily eclipse Minghao is making me go bonkers, actually. plus the suggestion of a story behind each scene he saw through touching Soonyoung, Vernon, Jeonghan... damn.
excuse me for being a jeongcheolist but: A briefest glimpse of a kiss with Seungcheol. oh you bet i screamed
it led up to the Big Moment with Seokmin and despite reading the tags it didn't quite prepare me for the heartache that ensued... it's one thing to hear someone say I don't love you like that, but it's another thing entirely to live the sentiment through their memory and have the knowledge cemented in you, irrefutably. jeez.
these lines in particular do make me heave small sighs like a dramatic victorian girl trying to get her suitor's attention:
- Come to think of it, he can’t recall the last time someone has just lovingly barged into his room just to hold him. somebody help...somebody help me...
- “No, Myungho,” and he sounds sad, “I’m worried about you.” PLEASE...
- His memories come in like unforgiving tides, emotions like wind torrenting through Minghao until it leaves him battered. we love vivid imagery yes we do!!!
and honestly, just this entire section. 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. the idolverse of it all, how you didn't shy away from referencing where you needed to in order to give it the impact that knocked the wind out of me. amazing. brave.
thank you for writing!!!!! thank you for taking a chance on a material you're not familiar with and delivering a masterpiece nonetheless. hope your day has been as wonderful as reading this made mine. ♡
Re: [FILL] one day i'll touch the world with bare hands again