Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Jeonghan (implied?) Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: jxw-inspired setting Permission to remix: Yes
*** hello my original interpretation fell off the rails but i just couldnt escape the idea of this man wonhan
He’s always hunting for another trace of him, and he’s always flitting further away; leaping through another dream after dream.
It was slow, at first—the way the buffet of flavours began to dwindle. People were not like clockwork, and their dreams were not static. He didn’t mind the growing trend towards salt and regret. It was a refreshing change from sweeter feasts.
But the upswing never came, and the salt began to grow bitter on his tongue. Eventually even that faded, too, and he was left with a sea of blandness to choose from. And he knew why.
Jeonghan wanted his attention again—or was it that he had been waiting for Jeonghan’s to return?
Two dreams, two nightmares, carving their long, looping arcs through the endless cityscape. One smiling face offers endless bliss. One solemn face offers cold reality. One smiling face fits his feet carefully into the familiar imprints left behind in the sand, and crouches to extend a hand. And tears it away, when he notices who is approaching in his wake.
He remembers that he used to hate the chase—searching for hints of Jeonghan’s presence to hunt him down, make him stop. At some point it began to warp into a game; together they brought a facsimile of heart-pounding life back into their existences, for a while. Hunter becoming the prey becoming the hunted.
Jeonghan usually started it. He liked to play with clueless dreamers, their sleeping consciousnesses so easy to mould in his hands. Fish in a barrel, really.
And Wonwoo—had begun with smoothing over the warped lines, restoring the array of possible flavours for him to choose from. But his attention inevitably curves back to Jeonghan, not letting him fall too complacent in his role; he could be a predator to some, but Wonwoo would always be able to undo his work. The shepherd protecting his flock from the roaming wolf pack, armed but fair—Jeonghan had laughed at the apt roles such a dream had placed them in, when they had adjourned.
He can’t help but break out of such a character, though. He feasts on the dreams splayed out for his choosing, but he’s inevitably addicted to Jeonghan. Finding him, hunting him, escaping him. Forever held at arm’s length, and yet he keeps trying to know him.
In the quieter lulls together, he does try to part the veils they lay over themselves—he does. It’s as if Jeonghan can’t bear to be belly-up for more than a second, and he repays genuinity with needling jabs in return.
Oh, he’s learnt the sharp curves of his body all-too easily, has almost memorised every feature hiding under his dark clothes. But the mind within it, the true shape of that person—so many details elude him, no matter how much he tries.
Maybe that’s part of the game, too—if he ever gave in, would he eventually grow bland, too? He fears the answer. He wants to know the answer.
Sometimes he is the one to flee first, to escape those thoughts, to studiously ignore Jeonghan until he is desperately driven to hunt him down and force him to notice again—to return his regard to how it should be.
He can’t let him get too far away before he races to catch up, and they retrace their endless circuit until he lags behind and becomes the hunted.
Together, they are a content ouroboros. At least until one of them falters.
[FILL] circling in stalemate
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: jxw-inspired setting
Permission to remix: Yes
***
hello my original interpretation fell off the rails but i just couldnt escape the idea of this man wonhan
He’s always hunting for another trace of him, and he’s always flitting further away; leaping through another dream after dream.
It was slow, at first—the way the buffet of flavours began to dwindle. People were not like clockwork, and their dreams were not static. He didn’t mind the growing trend towards salt and regret. It was a refreshing change from sweeter feasts.
But the upswing never came, and the salt began to grow bitter on his tongue. Eventually even that faded, too, and he was left with a sea of blandness to choose from. And he knew why.
Jeonghan wanted his attention again—or was it that he had been waiting for Jeonghan’s to return?
Two dreams, two nightmares, carving their long, looping arcs through the endless cityscape. One smiling face offers endless bliss. One solemn face offers cold reality. One smiling face fits his feet carefully into the familiar imprints left behind in the sand, and crouches to extend a hand. And tears it away, when he notices who is approaching in his wake.
He remembers that he used to hate the chase—searching for hints of Jeonghan’s presence to hunt him down, make him stop. At some point it began to warp into a game; together they brought a facsimile of heart-pounding life back into their existences, for a while. Hunter becoming the prey becoming the hunted.
Jeonghan usually started it. He liked to play with clueless dreamers, their sleeping consciousnesses so easy to mould in his hands. Fish in a barrel, really.
And Wonwoo—had begun with smoothing over the warped lines, restoring the array of possible flavours for him to choose from. But his attention inevitably curves back to Jeonghan, not letting him fall too complacent in his role; he could be a predator to some, but Wonwoo would always be able to undo his work. The shepherd protecting his flock from the roaming wolf pack, armed but fair—Jeonghan had laughed at the apt roles such a dream had placed them in, when they had adjourned.
He can’t help but break out of such a character, though. He feasts on the dreams splayed out for his choosing, but he’s inevitably addicted to Jeonghan. Finding him, hunting him, escaping him. Forever held at arm’s length, and yet he keeps trying to know him.
In the quieter lulls together, he does try to part the veils they lay over themselves—he does. It’s as if Jeonghan can’t bear to be belly-up for more than a second, and he repays genuinity with needling jabs in return.
Oh, he’s learnt the sharp curves of his body all-too easily, has almost memorised every feature hiding under his dark clothes. But the mind within it, the true shape of that person—so many details elude him, no matter how much he tries.
Maybe that’s part of the game, too—if he ever gave in, would he eventually grow bland, too? He fears the answer. He wants to know the answer.
Sometimes he is the one to flee first, to escape those thoughts, to studiously ignore Jeonghan until he is desperately driven to hunt him down and force him to notice again—to return his regard to how it should be.
He can’t let him get too far away before he races to catch up, and they retrace their endless circuit until he lags behind and becomes the hunted.
Together, they are a content ouroboros. At least until one of them falters.