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comment_fic2024-05-09 06:42 am
nagi_schwarz) wrote in comment_fic2024-05-09 06:42 am
Thursday: Song titles
Hello, everyone. I’m nagi_schwarz and your host for the week. Today's theme is song titles. Prompts can be the titles of songs, nursery rhymes, and any other pieces of music.
Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and the fandom's full name
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here. Unfortunately, DW doesn’t have a cut tag, so use your best judgment when it comes to spoilers.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above-mentioned spoiler cut.
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Any, any, Stalker (10cm)
+ Any, any, You’re the Best (Cha Eunwoo)
+ Any, any, Fly (Jinjin ft. Moonbin)
We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2024 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? You can use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community. Fret not, DW members; we are working on a way to search through old entries for prompts for you! As of right now, the best way to search for a lonely prompt on DW is to search the community’s archive, which can be found [[HERE]].
While the use of LJ's advanced search and DW’s archive are options, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching in the future.
As a friendly reminder about our schedule, Lonely Prompts and sharing completed fills are encouraged on Sundays, while new themes and prompts are posted on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Saturdays are a Free for All day. We'll share our posts on DW and LJ for everyone's convenience. Keep an eye out for notifications!
If you have a Dreamwidth account and would feel more comfortable participating there, please feel free to do so…and spread the word!comment_fic
tag=song titles
nagi_schwarz and your host for the week. Today's theme is song titles. Prompts can be the titles of songs, nursery rhymes, and any other pieces of music.Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and the fandom's full name
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here. Unfortunately, DW doesn’t have a cut tag, so use your best judgment when it comes to spoilers.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above-mentioned spoiler cut.
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Any, any, Stalker (10cm)
+ Any, any, You’re the Best (Cha Eunwoo)
+ Any, any, Fly (Jinjin ft. Moonbin)
We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2024 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? You can use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community. Fret not, DW members; we are working on a way to search through old entries for prompts for you! As of right now, the best way to search for a lonely prompt on DW is to search the community’s archive, which can be found [[HERE]].
While the use of LJ's advanced search and DW’s archive are options, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching in the future.
As a friendly reminder about our schedule, Lonely Prompts and sharing completed fills are encouraged on Sundays, while new themes and prompts are posted on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Saturdays are a Free for All day. We'll share our posts on DW and LJ for everyone's convenience. Keep an eye out for notifications!
If you have a Dreamwidth account and would feel more comfortable participating there, please feel free to do so…and spread the word!
comment_fictag=song titles
no subject
Fill: Astro (Kpop), MJ/Moon Bin (Vampire AU)
Bin hadn’t expected to come across him, but now that he had, he could not stop looking. Pretty, dainty, delicate Myungjun and his horrid clothes and messy hair – something about him was so intriguing. Bin usually only liked elegant men, men who wore silk top hats and carried gold watches. He liked men like that politician who lived in the apartment above him.
Men like Myungjun were better used as food. Bin would drain them of their blood and toss them aside, because no one would miss a man like Myungjun. He was poor and dirty and all alone in the world. His existence was worthless. There would be no one to celebrate his life and no one to mourn his death.
And there would be no one to love him.
Despite all that, though, Bin still watched him curiously. He didn’t want to kill Myungjun – not yet, anyway. He told himself that his determination to keep Myungjun alive was simply because it was hard to find another Korean man in this city. Other than the handsome politician in Bin’s apartment building, Koreans were few and far between.
He would keep him alive for a bit longer just to have some sort of solidarity with another Korean man.
Maybe next week he could kill Myungjun.
For now, though, he would follow this strange, little fellow. So he slipped past a small crowd at the corner of the street and he pulled his top hat lower on his head in order to hide his face.
Myungjun turned the corner and so Bin did.
He kept a good distance between them. He didn’t want to be found out. He was curious how Myungjun went about his evenings. He would spend his night hunting vampires, probably, but what did he do in his spare time?
He had a bag with him, slung over his shoulder. It looked rather heavy; poor Myungjun kept wavering as he hurried down the street.
Bin wondered if he should help, but he didn’t want to be caught. Besides, the bag was probably just as dirty as Myungjun was. Myungjun looked like he could use a bath.
Down one street, some young boys were out playing. They glanced at Myungjun and nudged each other, then began shouting abuse and slurs in his direction. One picked up a rock and threw it, but it landed far away from Myungjun.
Bin wondered if Myungjun just didn’t understand the slurs, on account of his poor English, or if he didn’t really care. He seemed like someone who wouldn’t care.
But he also seemed like someone who didn’t know the language well enough to comprehend what was being said.
Regardless, Bin smiled at the boys after Myungjun passed, daring them to say something. When one of them opened his mouth, Bin pulled out a quarter and tossed it onto the street. Both of the boys gaped, first at the quarter and then at Bin.
Bin smiled at them. “Go on, then,” he urged. “Rush at it like the filthy animals I know you both are. And when you scrabble over a silly, little coin, just remember that you are as awful and lowly as that man you both teased, yes?”
He turned away and walked down the street, not sparing them another glance. He could hear them fighting over the coin and he laughed a little bit. How predictable these humans were. They craved wealth so much, and yet they were always so willing to attack their own brethren. He knew their own actions and thoughts before they did, and yet he was forced to live alongside such a dumb breed. Humans were really–
“You’re so fucking predictable,” a voice said, in perfect Korean.
Bin blinked and then glanced to his side. Myungjun had a knife to his throat and was staring up at him with disgust.
“Oh,” said Bin, a bit confused. He had just turned the corner and hadn’t expected Myungjun to be waiting for him, not like this.
How embarrassing. He hoped Myungjun wouldn’t comment on it.
“I kill vampires for a living, and they’re really stupid, but I have honestly never met one quite as stupid as you.”
Ah. Of course he would comment on it. Bin had only met Myungjun twice before but he definitely seemed like the sort to go on and on if he was in the lead. Myungjun liked to gloat. He was high and mighty, which was silly for someone so poor. He was stubborn and rude and condescending.
Bin wondered how on earth anyone could like Myungjun. No wonder he had no friends.
But he also had soft, brown eyes and wide lips and a pretty nose. And his hand, holding onto his knife, was small but had long fingers. If he was rich, he would probably be Bin’s type.
“You’ve been following me all over the city,” Myungjun accused. “Why?”
“You noticed?”
“You stand out. You look like you’re about to meet the king.”
Bin sighed. “My dearest boy,” he chastised, “this is America. There is no king here. The president is the closest–”
Myungjun pushed the knife closer to Bin’s throat. “Figure of speech,” he snapped. “You’re the most condescending asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”
“See, I could say the same thing about you. Please remove the knife.”
“Why should I? I’ll get a lot of money if I kill you.”
Bin gave a small hum and nodded his head. “You could use the money. You’re living in poverty. How filthy.” Then, before Myungjun could blow up on him again, he gestured and asked, “What’s in the bag, and where are you headed?”
“What’s it matter to you?” Myungjun asked, and his grip on his knife loosened. “I’ll kill you soon.”
“Soon, maybe, but allow me to live another day or two. Plus, I’m curious to know what’s in the bag.” He stared at Myungjun, who glared right back at him. Myungjun didn’t move. Bin realized he would have to compromise. “You can kill me once you show me what’s in the bag.”
“You’ll just run,” Myungjun complained.
“Probably. But I can run right now. I’m only staying because…” Because why? Why did he stalk Myungjun in the first place? He had no idea what his end-goal was in all of this. He should just kill Myungjun before Myungjun killed him.
But Myungjun wasn’t plunging that knife into his neck. Myungjun only seemed to be using the knife to threaten Bin.
Why were they keeping each other alive?
Myungjun cleared his throat and lowered his knife. He glanced around them to ensure no one was nearby (and thank goodness they were alone, or else they would have a lot of explaining to do), and then he opened his bag slightly to reveal a couple dozen dead mammals.
“Rats?” Bin murmured, first in confusion, and then he realized what Myungjun was doing with a bag of rats. “Did you kill all of these? Really?”
“The government pays for each rat we catch,” Myungjun responded, closing his bag up again. “I’ve had…a small lull in the vampires I’ve been able to kill, so…”
“So you have to kill something,” Bin teased. “You’re such an adorable, little murderer, Myungjun.”
Myungjun scoffed and hoisted his bag up on his shoulder again. “If you’ll excuse me,” he fussed, “I have to go drop these off. You run along now, and stop stalking me all over New York. You’re exhausting.”
As he walked off, Bin realized he forgot something. “You were supposed to kill me!” he called out.
“Next time,” Myungjun assured him, glancing at Bin over his shoulder. “Just wait for me!”
When he rounded the corner, Bin realized he was smiling a bit too happily. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his poor neck and wondered where Myungjun would be tomorrow.
He would just have to find out.
Re: Fill: Astro (Kpop), MJ/Moon Bin (Vampire AU)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Fill: Astro, stargate AU, Bin/Minhyuk, background 2J, + Jinwoo and Sanha
It would be a good chance to decompress, Bin thought, hitching his duffel bag higher on his shoulder.
He’d heard from Colonel Sheppard, once, that after WWII, soldiers had had long boat trips home with just each other, able to talk about the horrors they’d seen with the only other people in the world who understood, a chance to heal, if only a little, before stepping foot on their home soil. But in later wars, like Vietnam, when home was only an airplane ride away, soldiers hadn’t had a chance to process their living nightmares and then been plunged back into hordes of people who didn’t have the slightest comprehension of what they’d been through, and their struggles had been amplified.
The first time Bin had gone back to Korea on leave from being stationed at the SGC, the culture shock had been a lot. This was Bin’s first leave back on Earth after a year of being stationed in Atlantis, and —
And he’d been glad to have Rocky by his side, to have a mission even though he was technically mission-free. Introducing Rocky to life on Earth and Korean culture had been a good distraction from — all the people. All the noise. The crowds. The inanity of it all. No one had any clue what was going on in the wider universe, with life-sucking space vampires evolved from bugs and nuclear-capable Amish and little gray men who could literally stop time, all of whom would gladly see the demise of Earth. And no one was supposed to know. Keeping Rocky’s alien identity had made all the secrecy almost like a game. It was okay if no one knew. Bin had to do his best to keep anyone from knowing. But Rocky and his teammates knew, and they bore their secrets together.
And now it was time to go back to Atlantis, to throw himself back into the battle for humanity’s continued survival among the stars.
Dongmin was already fretting about the experiments he’d left behind.
“You know Dr. Kusanagi is perfectly capable of managing your samples,” Myungjun said soothingly. “Just like Dr. Kiang kept an eye on mine.”
“I’m going to miss my cats,” Sanha said. “Why can’t we have pets on Atlantis?”
“You could have fish,” Jinwoo said.
Sanha made a face.
“I’m going to miss my family.” Jinwoo actually sniffled a little.
Bin turned to Rocky, who was gazing around the gate room, taking in all the details, curious. Compared to the Atlantis gate room, which was wide and spacious with high ceilings and stained glass windows, the gate room at the SGC was in a re-purposed underground missile bunker, all cement and low ceilings and a total absence of sunlight. Rocky was an alien. He would have been forced to live on base if he had come to Earth. But he was part flower. Would going without sunlight make him wither and fade too?
Rocky said, “So long, Mother Earth,” and waved — a little awkwardly — at one of the walls.
Several airmen and Marines standing nearby stared at him.
Bin nudged him. “Has Jinwoo been teaching you English idioms again?”
Two months in Korea had certainly improved Rocky’s Korean.
“A little,” Rocky said. He gazed up at Bin. “I like how you call it Mother Earth. I suppose the earth on Aroha was my mother, too. I grew inside her till I was big enough to stand on my own. That’s how full humans propagate, isn’t it? You grow inside your mothers.”
“Yes.” Bin kept his voice low, wary of anyone overhearing them even though they were the only Korean nationals in the gate room.
Then he cleared his throat. “Did you like it? Here on Earth.”
Rocky nodded. “Yes. I liked it a lot. The flowers here are beautiful.”
He’d been absolutely delighted by dandelions, and Bin hadn’t had the heart to tell him that they were considered weeds.
“I like your sister. She’s nice. She said she’d write to me.”
“I’m glad.” Bin smiled at him. He’d miss his younger sister fiercely.
“I like your parents, but I don’t think they like me,” Rocky said.
Bin frowned. “What makes you say that?” He thought back on the interactions Rocky had had with his parents, but his mom had smiled and welcomed them all into her home, stuffing them with stick rice and cakes and tea.
“Your mom saw you kissing me one time, and I don’t think she liked it, but she was still nice to me,” Rocky said.
Bin spluttered. “What? She saw? And you didn’t tell me?”
Rocky tilted his head. “Was I supposed to? I thought she would have told you.”
Well, that certainly explained why his parents had stopped nagging him about a girlfriend halfway through the visit.
“Does Sua know?” Bin asked.
Rocky shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think she ever saw you kiss me. I don’t know if your mom told her, though.”
Bin scratched the side of his neck. As soon as he was back on Atlantis, he’d have to email Sua and find out what, if anything, she knew. He sighed. Where Rocky hadn’t grown up with parents, raised instead by caretakers on a planet that essentially farmed half-Andari like Rocky to be Runners to lead the Wraith away from their home planet, he didn’t understand the dynamics between parents and children, and watching dramas certainly hadn’t taught him anything useful on the matter.
“Well, at least my parents know now, I suppose. Will you miss Earth?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Why would I? I won’t feel lonely as long as I’m with you,” Rocky said.
Bin wanted to pull Rocky into his arms, but they were surrounded by other personnel.
And then General Landry’s voice filled the gate room. He’d come to see them off.
Bin snapped to attention. Jinwoo and Sanha and the other military service members around them did the same.
So long, Mother Earth, Bin thought, and listened to the stargate initiate. Now it’s time to go home.
Re: Fill: Astro, stargate AU, Bin/Minhyuk, background 2J, + Jinwoo and Sanha
Re: Fill: Astro, stargate AU, Bin/Minhyuk, background 2J, + Jinwoo and Sanha
Re: Fill: Astro, stargate AU, Bin/Minhyuk, background 2J, + Jinwoo and Sanha
Re: Fill: Astro, stargate AU, Bin/Minhyuk, background 2J, + Jinwoo and Sanha
no subject
Fill: Astro, unrequited Dongmin/Minhyuk, Minhyuk/OMC, plus Big Ocean cameo!, light angst
Dongmin kept a calm, professionally friendly expression on his face and deliberately did not look at Minhyuk, who was standing just behind Hamin and smiling fondly at him.
Hamin, Dongmin’s younger twin brother, almost never came to visit when Dongmin was appearing on a music show. Their youngest brother, Kangmin, liked to come to try to catch glimpses of his favorite girl idols, and Dongmin had mentioned his name before in interviews, and pictures of Kangmin had even been leaked on the internet, with people commenting about how much he looked like his older celebrity brother (and those who’d leaked them gushing about how intelligent and hardworking and athletic he was, just like his older brother, and would he be a celebrity someday soon?).
But Dongmin never talked about Hamin, because Hamin had requested his privacy, Hamin who was a serious, earnest scientist. Hamin, who had been struck by a terrible fever when he was a baby and lost his hearing. Hamin, who’d spent his entire life being compared to Dongmin, being called the broken twin.
He was deaf, but he wasn’t stupid, and he could read lips.
He was also identical to Dongmin, and sometimes fan sightings of Dongmin in the wild had actually been of Hamin, who tended to go out and about in a mask and cap just in case once Dongmin had debuted. Sometimes Dongmin looked at Hamin and felt like he was looking at an alternate version of himself, the person he’d have become if he hadn’t auditioned for an entertainment company all those years ago.
But Dongmin had auditioned, and he’d passed, and he’d trained, and he’d joined an idol group, and he’d become a successful actor and sometimes solo singer, and now here he was, promoting his second solo title track, and Hamin had asked to come along.
Because Big Ocean, the first group with all hard-of-hearing members, was also promoting, and Hamin had been buzzing with excitement since he’d first heard about them and the possibility for their debut. He’d begged Dongmin to let him meet them when he learned that they were promoting at the same time as him, and Dongmin had relented, because he’d never been able to deny Hamin anything. Hamin had been denied so much in his life.
Dongmin, come hang out with us. Just you, though. Not Hamin. He probably doesn’t know how to play with us anyway, right?
When Dongmin had first knocked on Big Ocean’s dressing room door, he’d seen them all go wide-eyed and do the usual hoobae scramble to line up and bow to him.
“Cha Eunwoo sunbaenim,” one of them had blurted out, with the soft-edged pronunciation Dongmin was familiar with from when Hamin decided to vocalize, his hands flying.
Dongmin had bowed — and then he spoke and signed. “Hello, I’m Astro’s Cha Eunwoo. Nice to meet you.”
The three young men in Big Ocean — Hyunjin, Jiseok, Chanyeon; Hamin had mentioned their names over and over again — made their official greeting, then bowed again, their eyes even wider.
“I’m sorry to surprise you like this,” Dongmin said, “but I wanted to meet you.”
“Thank you for making time to meet us, sunbaenim. The honor is all ours. You’re so handsome in person. Wow. Hello.” The man, Chanyeon the eldest, was still wide-eyed, hands fluttering a little shakily. “You — you know sign language. I had heard sunbaenim was very intelligent and an ally of many facets of the disabled community, but — this is so unexpected.”
Dongmin smiled gently. “No, the honor is all mine. Also, I have a bit of an ulterior motive. You see, my younger brother is a huge fan of yours, and he begged me to bring him to meet you.”
“Sunbaenim’s younger brother is a fan?” Hyunjin, their leader, echoed, with both voice and hands. Then he pulled himself together a bit, rallying some of his hard-earned idol media training. “We are always glad to meet a fan.”
Hamin peeked out from behind Dongmin with a smile, signing a greeting. “Hello, I’m Lee Hamin! Cha Eunwoo is my Dongmin-hyung, but only by ten minutes.”
Dongmin watched shock cross the other three men’s faces all over again, first at Hamin signing, and then taking in the fact that Hamin was Dongmin’s identical twin.
“I’m a huge fan,” Hamin continued, hands flying, eyes bright with excitement. “Congratulations on your debut!”
It was Minhyuk who stepped forward with a giant basket laden with three bouquets of flowers, one for each member, as well as some beautifully-decorated macaron cookies.
Chanyeon accepted the basket with nervous hands, bowing deeply several times.
Minhyuk signed his own greeting. “Hello, I’m Park Minhyuk. I’m also a fan, since my Haminnie is such a big fan.”
Jiseok’s eyebrows went up. “I recognize you! I’ve seen you on broadcast shows before.” He was the youngest member of the team, his voice more confident but his hands less sure.
“I’ve had the honor of being one of Eunwoo-hyung’s backup dancers during his promotions, some with Astro, some solo,” Minhyuk said. “That was how I met Hamin.”
That had been on one of the other rare times Hamin had asked to watch Dongmin in his element. He liked the bright colors and flashing lights and fancy costumes, and the music was so loud that he could feel it even if he couldn’t hear it.
Dongmin had been quietly pining over the beautiful and definitely off-limits backup dancer Park Minhyuk since the first day Minhyuk had showed up at dance practice to teach Dongmin’s team their newest choreography. Minhyuk wasn’t off-limits to Hamin, however.
And Minhyuk, whose mother was deaf, was fluent in sign language.
For Hamin, it had been love at first sight, when Minhyuk had mistaken him for Dongmin and Hamin had signed instead of spoken and Minhyuk had switched to sign language without a blink. Minhyuk had taken a bit of convincing, on account of being a professional and not wanting to mix business and pleasure. Hamin had pointed out, I’m not my brother.
And now Hamin was gushing to his favorite idol group about how much he loved them and how he’d watched all their behind-the-scenes videos and how he watched their cover videos over and over again, and he’d even had Minhyuk do the dance challenges with him, and Minhyuk was smiling fondly at him, and Dongmin was the one left standing on the sidelines.
To the rest of the world, Lee Dongmin was Cha Eunwoo, international superstar, A-list actor, singer, model, and television personality all rolled into one. Everybody loved him.
But here, in this room, he was just Lee Dongmin, and he was an outsider. Even though he spoke sign language about as fluently as his brother, even though he was an idol and Minhyuk was not, he was on the outside, because Minhyuk and Hamin were the happy couple, and Dongmin was merely the mutual connection who’d just happened to bring them together.
Of course, the members of Big Ocean snapped plenty of photos with Hamin, and also with Minhyuk, for Hamin’s personal fan enjoyment. Hamin even did the dance challenge with them while Minhyuk filmed (discreetly directing the music with one hand behind the camera, for Hamin to keep the beat). For professional purposes, Dongmin also took photos with the rookie team, and he agreed to film the dance challenge with them for upload onto SNS even though he rarely did dance challenges beyond the ones for his own team.
It was Hyunjin who presented Hamin with a signed album, and Hamin got hugs from all three members before it was finally time for Dongmin to go.
“Thank you so much for meeting me,” Hamin gushed. “I’ll be rooting for you!”
Minhyuk bowed to them and bade them farewell, and then Dongmin said his farewells, smooth and professional and effortlessly cool, and back to his dressing room they went. He strode ahead while Hamin and Minhyuk lingered behind, Hamin showing off his signed album. When Dongmin dared to glance over his shoulder, he saw the way Minhyuk was gazing adoringly at Hamin. Hamin was, of course, oblivious to the warm, golden love he was being given wholeheartedly, distracted by the album and also the photos on his phone.
Back in Dongmin’s dressing room, Hamin plopped down on the little loveseat and replayed the video of the dance challenge with a happy sigh.
“How did it go?” Manager asked.
Had it been an official publicity visit, more staff from both sides would have been present, cameras on, documenting the entire thing for both teams, but Dongmin wanted to keep Hamin out of the spotlight.
“I’ve made my brother happy,” Dongmin said. “They seem like good, hardworking men.”
“You honestly could stand to work a little less hard,” Manager grumbled.
Several stylists swarmed Dongmin to touch up his hair and straighten his outfit.
“Thank you,” Minhyuk said, and Dongmin started.
Whenever Minhyuk was with Hamin, he signed but didn’t vocalize even if he moved his mouth, and sometimes Dongmin forgot what his voice sounded like. Minhyuk was standing right beside him, seemingly out of nowhere. He had the stealthiness of a black cat at midnight.
“Thank you? For what?” Dongmin mumbled, avoiding Minhyuk’s gaze, feeling his face heat and glad his makeup would conceal most of his blush.
“You made him incredibly happy in a way I never could. I love to see him happy.” Minhyuk gazed at Hamin fondly once more.
Dongmin wanted to shout, Look at me! Look at me that way, not him.
But he didn’t dare. He couldn’t try to ruin his brother’s relationship, and besides, there was no guarantee that Minhyuk would choose Dongmin if Dongmin suddenly became a dating option (which he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t be any time soon, because he had his career to think about).
Suddenly Minhyuk drew Dongmin into a hug, tight and warm but somehow still mindful of his painfully stylish and expensive outfit.
“What’s this all of a sudden?” Dongmin asked, pleased that his voice was steady even though his heart was pounding.
Minhyuk felt so good, his lean body hard and strong, and he also smelled good, some faint cologne but also his own scent beneath, clean and masculine.
“You’re my third favorite person in the world,” Minhyuk said.
“What? Only third?”
“Of course my mother and Haminnie come first.” Minhyuk was still holding him.
Dongmin couldn’t resist hugging him back, wrapping his arms around Minhyuk and burying his face against Minhyuk’s shoulder. For one second, he could imagine that Minhyuk was his, that —
“But you love Haminnie at least as much as I do, and so you’re one of my favorite people.”
Dongmin swallowed hard. “Of course I love Haminnie. He’s my other half.” Reluctantly, he let Minhyuk go, and he smoothed down his outfit with very calm, careful hands.
Minhyuk smiled at him. “Sometimes I feel like he’s my other half, too. I don’t mind sharing him with you.”
Dongmin couldn’t expect anything better than sharing Minhyuk with Hamin.
And then Hamin whistled softly, and Minhyuk turned, summoned by the wordless signal, to return to his boyfriend’s side and curl up beside him and tip his head close so he could see what Hamin was watching on his phone, and Dongmin was left alone on the sidelines once again.
Everybody loves me, Dongmin thought, but I’d give them all up if I could have the love of just one man instead.
And then a harried-looking PD who was half-distracted by both her tablet and an incoming transmission over her headset said, “Cha Eunwoo-ssi, it’s time for your dry rehearsal,” and it was time for Dongmin to be Cha Eunwoo again.
Minhyuk and Hamin trailed behind him, eager to watch from the wings of the stage, Hamin carefully wearing a mask and cap, Minhyuk staying close as both comfort and security, and even though Dongmin was about to step into the spotlight, he knew he was still on the sidelines where it really counted.
Re: Fill: Astro, unrequited Dongmin/Minhyuk, Minhyuk/OMC, plus Big Ocean cameo!, light angst
i liked seeing big ocean in this (i know nothing about them but have seen them on twitter) and i like dongmins brother but UGH IT STILL MAKES ME SAD!!
thank youuu!!
Re: Fill: Astro, unrequited Dongmin/Minhyuk, Minhyuk/OMC, plus Big Ocean cameo!, light angst
Big Ocean are so cute! I watched way too many of their vids while I was writing this.
no subject
Fill: Billlie/Astro, Moon Sua + Park Minhyuk, gen
“I didn’t know where else to go.” Sua sniffled.
Minhyuk said, “You can’t be here. I’m an i—” He cut himself off.
He’d almost said idol. Was he not an idol anymore? He’d left the team, yes, but —
But then Sua remembered the note she’d seen pinned to the memorial tree, tucked among so many other notes, far away from the rest of her brother’s teammates’ notes.
How do I dance without you?
Maybe Minhyuk wasn’t an idol anymore.
He said, “You’re an idol.”
“No one’s watching me,” Sua said in a small voice. “Everyone — they’re all focused on Dongmin-oppa.”
Lee Dongmin. Cha Eunwoo. The most famous member of her brother’s team by miles. Sometimes Sua pitied him, for how the rest of the world was hungry for his grief. Other times she hated him, for how only his grief mattered.
Minhyuk bit his lip. Then he darted a glance down the hallway, checking that it was empty, and yanked her into his apartment. The door clicked shut behind her, and she didn’t know what to do besides take off her shoes and nudge them against the wall behind Minhyuk’s battered pair of dance sneakers.
“Do you want some, um, food?” Minhyuk asked, stepping back and letting her out of the foyer.
His apartment was a disaster. He’d always been one of the neatest ones on the team, picking up after everyone else back when they’d shared a dorm. Sua couldn’t imagine living without her own teammates, her sisters, and now —
Now there were wrinkled clothes and half-empty takeout containers scattered across every surface. A pile of balled up pieces of paper beside then low dining table. She recognized the stationery, pale green with dark green lines and cartoon trees along the borders, had seen similar paper pinned to a tree with the plaintive How do I dance without you? written on it.
“I’m not hungry.” Sua wrapped her arms around herself. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure what she wanted.
Gone were the days when Minhyuk would palm her a flash drive full of home videos and candid photos under guise of handing her a water bottle during vocal practice, or passing her in the hallway at school. He’d missed their graduation ceremony, appearing to walk with Sanha the next year, and Sua had been swallowed up in full-time training, and —
“You used to always say Bin-hyung says hi when we saw each other in the cafeteria,” she said.
Minhyuk’s brow furrowed.
He didn’t even remember.
“I saw that interview he did, while he and Sanha were doing promotions for madness. He — he didn’t even know we went to the same high school.” Her voice caught in her throat, but she swallowed past it. “You — you lied to me.”
But it had been a kind lie, and she’d treasured those casual, almost careless words every time they spilled from Minhyuk’s lips.
His expression crumpled for a moment, but then he said, “Yeah, well, he’d have killed me if he knew I’d been talking to his little sister. He was scary. But in a good way, you know?”
Only Sua didn’t know, and now she would never get to know, and —
She crumpled to the carpet. Minhyuk was beside her in an instant, arms tight around her, holding her while she cried. Eventually, Minhyuk helped her to her feet, and he guided her past the piles of a life shattered and into the dark, cool, cave of his bedroom. He helped her onto the bed, and then he went to leave, but she didn’t want to be alone.
“Don’t go.”
“Sua —”
“It’s not like he can kill you now.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Minhyuk’s face went totally blank, and then he spun away from her. She realized, from the hitching of his shoulders, that he was crying now.
She heaved herself to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t —”
Minhyuk spun back around and yanked her to him, clinging tight and sobbing silently, tears dampening her shoulder. She knew he hated crying where anyone could see. She’d broken him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, over and over again, while he trembled and cried.
She managed to drag him over to the bed and sit him down on it. He buried his face in his hands and wouldn’t look at her.
“You…want some water?”
“You don’t know where the cups are.” His voice was muffled and wet.
Sua sat down beside him. “Do you want to…?” Talk about it? That seemed inadequate.
Finally, Minhyuk reached into his pocket for his phone. He unlocked it with shaking hands, still not looking at her. He ducked his head and wiped his face on his own shoulder, sniffled. “I have some home videos. You want to see?”
Sua nodded, holding out her hands.
Minhyuk handed her the phone, and she turned it, scanning the seemingly endless video files.
The folder they were in was labeled For Sister.
The earliest videos were from — the year they’d graduated from high school, her and Minhyuk. It had been a bad year for him and the rest of the team. They’d almost been forced to disband due to their company’s internal legal and financial struggles.
She flopped down on the bed, phone in her hands, and curled up. Then she pressed play.
The bed dipped briefly as Minhyuk lay down as well, kneels curled up to his chest, eyes closed, just listening to Bin’s voice. In the video, Bin was sleep-rumpled, standing at the stove, staring at an empty skillet and small pot for rice, trying to orient himself enough to cook.
Sua watched as the person behind the camera — Minhyuk, no surprise — gently nudged him into finding some marinated pork and the bag of rice.
Sua watched, and she watched, and she watched.
When she glanced up from a video taken during her brother’s birthday the year Sanha had graduated, Minhyuk was asleep, brow furrowed, hand twitching toward her every time Bin spoke.
She set the phone down, still playing, and closed her eyes as well.
She was safe here, with Minhyuk, sleeping with the ghosts between them.
When she opened her eyes, she’d been covered with a blanket, and Minhyuk was gone, but her brother’s ghost remained.
Re: Fill: Billlie/Astro, Moon Sua + Park Minhyuk, gen
You sure brought the feels on this one, friend. Good job there.
Re: Fill: Billlie/Astro, Moon Sua + Park Minhyuk, gen
Re: Fill: Billlie/Astro, Moon Sua + Park Minhyuk, gen
Knowing nothing about this drama or these idol groups, I wasn't prepared for this at all, lol. I thought it was gonna be some form of estrangement, not... yeah. So much mourning. So many feelings. And I especially appreciate how you kept this gen! Thanks for that. You handled it well, it's just... so sad.
Re: Fill: Billlie/Astro, Moon Sua + Park Minhyuk, gen
Yeah, this story pretty much had to be gen, and I think I will always keep these two that way...
Thanks for an awesome prompt!
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Filled on AO3: Astro, Bin + Minhyuk, Sandman AU
Re: Filled on AO3: Astro, Bin + Minhyuk, Sandman AU
Re: Filled on AO3: Astro, Bin + Minhyuk, Sandman AU
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Fill: Astro/Sandman, Myungjun + Minhyuk
Minhyuk, who’d been perched on a tall stool as Myungjun’s model, nodded and hopped off. “No problem. Honestly this is a lot more fun than a lot of photo shoots I’ve done.”
He wiggled and stretched, and Myungjun remembered that he was a dancer by avocation, and by Bin’s report a very good one. No wonder his flexibility was impressive.
“I’ll probably need you to sit for me when it comes time to do some prop studies, but I’ll reach out to your agency, I’m sure they’ll let you know.” Myungjun smiled.
“Of course, hyung. I’ll make time in my schedule for you for sure.” Minhyuk headed for the door.
“Excellent. Till then, I’ll see you in my dreams.”
Minhyuk whirled around, eyes wide. “What did you say?”
Myungjun blinked. “What?”
“You just said I’ll see you in my dreams.” Minhyuk’s gaze was strangely intense.
“Oh.” Myungjun felt his cheeks heat. “It’s what I say to all my muses. Because they inspire me, like dreams. It — sorry, it’s just a habit. I didn’t want to make you feel weird, or anything. I mean, you’re a gorgeous model, so I’m sure plenty of people dream of you, above and beyond Dongmin. Wait. That didn’t sound right. Uh —”
“It’s fine, hyung. I see what you mean.” Minhyuk looked amused now. “It’s an unusual farewell, is all. But it’s unique, just like you. See you in your dreams.”
He bobbed his head, then slipped out of Myungjun’s apartment.
Myungjun watched the door closed behind him. The kid was witty when he wanted to be. See you in your dreams. Not a bad comeback.
He turned back to the initial sketch he’d done of Minhyuk. How was he going to make Park Minhyuk look magical for the cover of Dongmin’s newest novel?
Myungjun opened his eyes. He was standing at a giant gate. It stretched above him toward a sky that he somehow knew was eternally twilit, and it was made of horn and ivory. Perched across the top were three fantastical creatures — an eagle with the body of a lion, a two-legged dragon, and a winged horse.
“Who goes there?” the dragon asked, peering down at him.
The winged horse said, “It’s just a dreamer.”
Only then all three of them turned, and the gate eased open a fraction. Myungjun tensed, expecting some other nightmare or fantasy creature to come charging at him, but instead he saw Park Minhyuk.
Well, not the Park Minhyuk who’d been in his art studio several hours prior.
Well, Myungjun supposed, it was him, but of course this was a dream, and he looked different. Usually he had warm, dark golden skin and bright dark eyes and sleek black hair. Here, he had skin as pale as moonlight, and eyes as endless and gleaming as the distant stars, and hair the deep blue of midnight shadows.
But he was smiling a familiar dimpled smile. “Hyung! You’re dreaming. Want to dream with me?”
Myungjun blinked. The characters in his dreams weren’t usually so conversational, were they? Only he rarely remembered his dreams, except for the super vivid ones that became paintings, usually mystical landscapes and cityscapes, like the giant gates before him.
“Me?” Myungjun asked.
Minhyuk nodded. “Yeah. You said you’d see me in your dreams, and I agreed, so here I am.”
That sounded logical, because this was a dream, but of course it made no sense in the real world. People couldn’t just appear in each other’s dreams, mystical talk of dreamwalking aside.
If Myungjun was going to be dreaming so vividly though, he figured he might as well have fun. “Sure. I’ll dream with you.”
Minhyuk smiled, and then he turned and looked up at the three guardians of the gates. “This dreamer is with me.”
“Yes, Shining One,” the eagle-lion said.
Minhyuk nudged one of the gates — ornately-carved ivory — open wider. “Come on, hyung. This way.”
“Where are we going?” Myungjun asked.
“Anywhere you want, within The Dreaming,” Minhyuk said. “Usually when Dongmin-hyung comes, if we don’t go on a date, we hang out in the Library, since that’s where most writers go. But we could go to the Gallery, or even the Conservatory, or even the Stage.”
He led Myungjun along a winding path toward a tall castle that was at once wholly beautiful but also looked like a thousand fairytale castles put together.
“I have no idea what those places even are,” Myungjun said.
“Well, the Library is full of books that people only dream of writing or finishing,” Minhyuk said. “If a book is finished in the waking world, it vanishes from the Library. But we have additional plays by Shakespeare and things like that on its shelves.”
He walked right up to the castle door and pushed it open. Surely the journey would have taken longer Myungjun glanced over his shoulder, and the giant gate he’d come through was smaller than a toy in the distance.
“Are we just — allowed in here?” Myungjun asked.
“Most dreamers don’t come this way, just begin their dreams wherever they need to be, but you’re with me,” Minhyuk said. “The Gallery is full of paintings and drawings and other art that people only create in dreams, or dream of finishing. Want to see some Da Vincis? Although I think maybe Waterhouse might be more your style.”
“Then the Conservatory is where…the songs people only dream of finishing or making are archived?” Myungjun followed Minhyuk along halls made of pale stone veined with green and silver, though some hallways were midnight black and lined with gleaming ruby runes and symbols and sigils.
“That’s right.”
“And the Stage…?”
“It’s where the performances of people’s dreams are. A rock concert. The perfect K-pop comeback stage. That piano recital you panicked in during third grade. The play you didn’t make the audition for. Your Olympic freestyle skate where you stumbled.”
“Much more variety,” Myungjun mused.
“Oh, there’s variety in the Gallery, too. Sculptures, clothing designs, the fishing net you promised to finish repairing before your mother passed away from a terrible plague.” Minhyuk smiled at him.
“That sounds really amazing,” Myungjun admitted. “And kind of — overwhelming. Are there noraebang performances on the Stage? You know, like the time you wanted to impress your crush by singing Tears or something but hadn’t warmed up your voice properly.”
“If you like, of course.” Minhyuk led Myungjun through an increasingly labyrinthine series of twisting and turning corridors, with corners and offshoots and doors springing up everywhere. “I figured since you’re an artist, you might want to start in the Gallery, but also I know you’re a great singer, and we could go visit the Stage. Didn’t you once say you wished you could have seen X Japan live in concert, back before their guitarist passed away?”
“How do you know that?” Myungjun turned to Minhyuk, startled, but then a memory hit him, hazy, as if from a distant dream — or the waking world — of sitting around a table in a street tent bar with Jinwoo, Bin, Dongmin, Minhyuk, and Sanha, all six of them taking turns grilling the pork belly bacon and talking about their favorite music.
Myungjun could still smell the sizzling bacon, hear it pop and hiss on the grill, but then Minhyuk opened a door and showed Myungjun into a seemingly endless room.
There were pedestals, frames, display cases, all scattered across a floor of pristine white marble that was threaded with only the faintest golden veins. The first painting, front and center, was of Minhyuk.
Myungjun stared at the painting. It was his painting. The one he’d been contemplating all day. He knew his own brush strokes, knew the curve of Minhyuk’s long, strong fingers as he held a transparent globe in which flashed an entire galaxy. He prowled forward, inspecting the heavy wooden frame that was gilded along the edges. The placard beneath the painting read Kim Myungjun, oil on canvas, potential cover for the Cha Eunwoo novel Ice Flower.
“How is this here?” he demanded of Minhyuk, who was studying a small clay sculpture of a crooked, lumpy, winged heart (Alex Torres, Mother’s Day Gift, Kindergarten).
Minhyuk turned to him, smiling. He was wearing the same outfit as in the painting, Myungjun realized, the tan button-down shirt and slacks. He looked like he’d stepped out of the painting. Well, this certainly was a dream.
“You’ve been working on this painting in dreams, of course,” Minhyuk said. “Do you want to work on it some more, or would you rather work on something else?”
He gestured, and the painting was no longer in a frame but on an easel, and a table of paints and brushes and a palette and palette knife and jars of his working oils appeared beside the easel, and —
“I paint and draw all day for work. I love doing them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s still my job. Let’s do something fun.”
“What would you like to do?” Minhyuk asked.
Myungjun considered. “How are you at video games?”
“In the waking world? Abysmal. Here, I’m as good as you need to be. What would you like to play? We can go to the Stage and see The Perfect League of Legends tournament battle, or —”
“How about Overwatch?” Myungjun turned and headed for the door, and this time it was Minhyuk who followed him. “I want to be Hammond.”
“Hammond?” Minhyuk echoed, puzzled.
“You know, the hamster in the wrecking ball.”
Moments later, when Myungjun was covered in fur and in the actual Wrecking Ball as laser fire exploded around him, he almost regretted his decision, but then he heard Minhyuk let out a cry of alarm, and he scrambled to save his teammate.
In dreams, video games were a thousand times better.
Minhyuk was a thousand times better at them, too.
Minhyuk perched on a stool in the middle of Myungjun’s studio, holding a spherical glass paperweight while Myungjun arranged lights around him. Something about the way the light caught on the glass reminded him of a swirling galaxy, and he wasn’t sure why.
“You all right, hyung?” Minhyuk asked.
Myungjun glanced at him and wondered what he’d look like with dark blue hair. “Fine. Just — I had a really vivid dream the other night.”
“Hope it was a fun one,” Minhyuk said.
Myungjun set down the final lamp and stepped back, surveying the way the light played across Minhyuk’s features. “You know, I think it was.”
Re: Fill: Astro/Sandman, Myungjun + Minhyuk
Thanks so much for this great fill!
Re: Fill: Astro/Sandman, Myungjun + Minhyuk
Myungjun does perhaps enjoy video games a little too much...
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