Status: Prompting Closed
This round is now closed to further prompts but remain open for fills and remixes (forever!).
About
"Enter any body of water and you give yourself up to be swallowed. Even the stones know that."
"beauty is terror"
"Would you fall in love with me again, if you knew all I've done? The things I can't undo. "
Calling all lovers of poetry and prose, rhyme and reason, screen and stage. Welcome to the Quotes Round, where every prompt must cradle a quotation (or two, or three). Mix the media and let the synergy birth a new order, or keep it short and let the subtext speak its secrets to the right writer.
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FILL: heart in my chest on wings [2/4]
In the morning, Wonwoo dipped out of consciousness with the shrill ring of a telephone. It persisted for an agonising minute that almost drew Wonwoo's mind out of warm drowsiness when it cut off. Wonwoo barely sunk under before the phone erupted again.
Wonwoo could hear Minghao's rushed footsteps travelling across the house.
A tense silence.
"Seungcheol-hyung, for the sixth time, he's not here. I haven't seen him and yes I will call if I have."
A pause.
"No I'm not going out to find him. He's an adult, not a catâ"
"I'm not hiding him and he hasn't told me to lie for him because I haven't seen himâ"
"Yes yes yes, good morning and goodbye." A metallic slam, followed by Minghao's loud sigh, and slower footsteps away from Wonwoo's door.
The sunlight was still blue, which meant that it was way earlier than Wonwoo's usual daylight, and so he buried his face in the pillow again.
"Were you talking about Jun? Earlier?" Wonwoo sank into a spare chair, having found Minghao at the dining table with bread and a thermos of what was hopefully coffee.
"Earlier?" Minghao slid across a mug and started pouring. It was tea.
"The phone. Something about finding cats."
"Oh," Minghao squeezed his eyes shut, "No, just some neighbours going through marital breakdown. It happens every few months. Not related to Junhui at all."
"Hm." Wonwoo liked gossip, but he usually needed someone else to do the asking and the digging. Like Soonyoung or Mingyu. He was too proud to seem interested and Minghao was too private to offer those details freely. "Any ideas on catching a cat?"
"A bit of patience and somepspspspst," Minghao shrugs, "You're a cat person, you should know."
Wonwoo scrunched his nose, there was an offence there, even if it was true, "You got to give me some snacks or toys." The jeans that Minghao gave him itched, and the cap was a little too small, enough that Wonwoo knows he might have a headache coming in, "A bit of bribery, surely."
"I have a feeling you don't need it," Minghao shot Wonwoo a look he wasn't sure how to catch. There was a twinkle there, but also something sharp, like a bladed challenge. "You can't chase him, he'll bolt. Give him space and he'll approach you, and when he comes, hold him close to show him he's wanted."
"Got it, treat a cat like a cat," Wonwoo tilted his head, "Any more scintillating tips?"
Minghao hummed, "My only advice, don't go off the path. A little is fine, but don't lose sight of it."
"I have my phone, there's reception right?" Wonwoo never had a good sense of direction, but he wasn't going to raise that now.
Minghao paused, "I mean it. Be careful. It's possible to not only get lost, but also lose yourself in the forest."
By the end of the first day, Wonwoo almost suspected the whole thing was a ploy to get him to exercise. There was no sign of cats in the forest, not even a purr or a rustle under the dappled sunlight. He's been walking for hours, and his mood is surprisingly better, as well as his appetite.
His brain itched for a game or the dopamine of a youtube video, but he lost reception half an hour away from Minghao's lodge. Regardless, Wonwoo had to keep his ears open.
He heard the twittering of birds overhead, saw the flurry of leaves fall as they jumped from canopy to canopy. There was no wind today, so all Wonwoo heard was the sound of his own feet, crunching into the ground. Poems were written about moments like this, very likely Minghao had tried. He seemed to be the person. Wonwoo wondered if that was the kind of person Junhui linked, someone who could write poetry, express their emotions.
In the silence of the forest, he thought about what Minghao said, about the weight of the body, the weight of the soul. Wondered if he could tell, how heavy was each part of him. How tight were the seams that held them together. How easily they could be torn apart.
Just as he was about to turn around for the day, Wonwoo heard the soft lapping of waves and the barest bubbling of running water. Curious at the new noise, he wandered towards it.
It was a lake with a small houseboat in the middle, just a rectangle on a raft. A man was fishing in its shade, blonde hair tucked under a white cap, thin arms drenched in an oversized jacket that was squeezed into a life jacket. The material seemed to pour outwards, like a lumpy parcel wrapped in string. He looked peaceful, sunken into his camping chair with his chin tucked in. Wonwoo decided not to bother him.
But the man noticed him standing on the pebbled shoreline.
"Yoohoo," the man waved, motion lazy, "I haven't seen you before."
Wonwoo lifted one hand back in reply, "I'm just visiting."
"We don't get a lot of tourism in these parts, are you staying with someone?"
"With Xu Minghao, the teacher. He lives in the lodge somewhere over..." Wonwoo looked over his shoulder. The path was still behind him, but it winded through the bushes and out of sight. It had forked several times before reaching the lake, leading him around the forest in wide arcs.
"... over there," Wonwoo pointed with a weak hand somewhere south.
"Xu Minghao?" The man scratched his chin, "Ah, ahh, Myungho-ssi. The painter."
"Yeah," Wonwoo agreed, because it was easier than explaining that Minghao was a tea master, a meditation instructor, and also possibly a poet, "Have you seen any cats today? I'm looking for one, it's grey, and around this big." Wonwoo separated his hands at the distance he remembered Minghao showing.
"Cats?" The man cocked his head and his fishing rod bobbed with his movement, "I haven't seen any cats around here. Is it yours?"
No. Wonwoo swallowed, "It's Minghao's."
"I didn't know he had a cat," the man closed his eyes and seemed to sink even further into his chair, "I always thought he was more of a dog person."
Wonwoo's not sure if that's something he could agree or disagree with. He's barely known Minghao for a day, and he assumed that Minghao liked cats, becauseâ
"Do you like to fish?" The man asked suddenly, "I have a spare chair. Come over."
"How?" Wonwoo looked around. The houseboat was at least a dozen meters away from the shore, and there didn't appear to be any skiffs nearby, or even an engine on the boat.
"Oh silly me," the man laughed, "I don't suppose you can grow wings and fly over here, can you?"
Wonwoo made himself laugh as well, but it only came out as a dry chuckle, "Not the last time I checked."
"Shame, I would've liked the company."
Wonwoo peered up at the sky, "It'll be dark soon. Don't you have to head home?"
The man gestured with his chin at the room behind him, "I'm staying here."
"Oh." It didn't look comfortable or legally compliant, but the man did look like he could fall asleep any moment in the chair. Wonwoo wondered about the drowning risk and terminated that thought out of respect, "I should get going. Keep an eye out for cats for me, will you?"
Minghao had made them dinner. It irked Wonwoo that Minghao didn't even ask him if he was staying another night, that he had just assumed and was proven right. There was a new set of clothes folded next to his borrowed pyjamas, a diffuser in the bathroom, and even a few books next to his bed. A Higashino that he had already read, a collection of poems by Tagore, and one annoyingly titled: Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down.
The lodge was swimming in smells when Wonwoo finished showering. There was the smokiness of faded incense when Wonwoo walked by the classroom, the metallic sting of ink as it was washed down the sink from used brushes, and then the hearty steam of cooking water, glutinous and rich with the promise of a meal.
Dinner was a bowl of noodles, chewy to the bite and slick with broth. It was served with a leafy vegetable cut into polite batons and a ladle-full of stewed beef and carrots, lounging in a pool of its own gravy.
"Sorry, I'm only good at making simple dishes," Minghao had said, when he put the bowl down before Wonwoo.
"It looks delicious, thank you." Wonwoo nodded in a quick bow. He meant it, and he wasn't even bitter that Minghao was a better cook than him because he was a beneficiary of this particular talent.
Afterwards, Wonwoo insisted on washing the dishes, because it was only fair and it would look badly on his mother if he didn't. Minghao had hoveredâbringing the cutlery over, wiping down the table, opening drawersâbut thankfully they were saved from small talk by the ringing of the telephone.
When Minghao walked off, Wonwoo looked around the kitchen, eyes trailing to the pictures on the fridge.
There was a lot of Jun, and Jun with Minghao. It hurt Wonwoo to look at it, because they were so obviously and physically close in a way Jun rarely was with Wonwoo. Shoulder-to-shoulder eating street food with their knees above the low table, an airplane selfie with Minghao's head on Junhui's shoulder, a snapshot of a stage performance, their hands tied together by a black ribbon. Wonwoo couldn't look away, because every picture felt like information that could never have been spoken to him.
But what surprised him was how young Minghao looked, eyes big and uncertain, neck thin and body stiff in the way all youths were gangly before manhood. It was so different to the confident picture of elegance that made him dinner. In the photos, Jun looked like the cooler, older brother, and Minghao, the dependant.
Footsteps.
Wonwoo slipped back to the sink and had a sponge in hand when Minghao arrived.
"It was my neighbour, the one from this morning," Minghao picked up a tea towel and reached for a bowl.
"Was he yelling at you again?" Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.
"His husband ended up coming home," Minghao smiled, "So he was telling me not to worry."
"That's good, I'm glad it worked out."
Minghao huffed breezily, "In all likelihood it'll end up happening again in a couple of months."
Looking outside the window, Wonwoo thought of a cat the shape of Queen Victoria, "All kinds of love out there, I suppose."
"All kinds of love for all kinds of people."
FILL: heart in my chest on wings [3/4]
That evening, Wonwoo dreamt he was back at the lake in the forest, standing at the shoreline, gazing at the moon marbling on dark water. It was full tonight, all the earth was aglow in a satin finish, sharp with silver clarity.
The blond man was still fishing on the lake, rod held at the end of a limp arm. For some reason, Wonwoo saw his face clearer now than ever before, and observed that he was beautiful. The thought flew to him unbidden, and Wonwoo's heart fluttered against his chest while his ears pulsed with blood.
As if he heard, the man looked up and caught Wonwoo's eyes from across the lake.
"Are you back to fish?" he asked, as if it was not so a strange question for this hour of the night. His lips barely moved, but Wonwoo heard him as if they were standing in the same room.
"I don't know how to fly," Wonwoo answered, "I don't have wings."
"But you do," the man pointed out, "I can hear them. There's something inside you that wants to escape, that you want to get rid of anyway, isn't that right?"
Wonwoo sucked in a breath, held it, as if he could keep his heart still by force of will, "I don't know what you mean."
"Let it out," the man put down his fishing rod and held out his hand, "Let it out before it dies inside you."
The heart in his chest pattered and tumbled, his skin stretched and mouth dried up, as if all the water in his body has threaded through to his fingers, fingernails cold with sweat.
"Who are you?" Wonwoo asked, taking a step back away from the water.
"I know what you are Jeon Wonwoo," the man said, voice lifted by the wind, "The forest is a dangerous place for men like you."
"What do you mean?" Wonwoo asked again, "What do you know about me?"
"If you don't give it up, it will be torn away from you." the man stood up, "I can help you. I know how to cut a soul from its body. I've done it before."
In the morning, Minghao was on the phone again when Wonwoo walked to the kitchen.
"âmhm. I see," Minghao's voice was sympathetic, professional as if he was wearing a suit and had his shoulders pushed back, "I understand."
There was a post-it note on the kitchen table next to the thermos, with a big arrow pointing at the stove. On one of the burners was a pot, and as Wonwoo peered through the glass lid, he saw a hardboiled egg and two buns. They were still hot to touch, kept warm by residual steam.
Wonwoo poured himself a cup of tea and started peeling the egg, first by rolling it against the table with a firm palm, then curling under the membrane with his fingernail. When he was younger, he would compete with his brother to see who could break off the largest piece.
The morning was still cold, with wet fog still lingering in the corner of each window.
"âI will keep an eye out ma'am, if I see him I'll give him a stern-talking to."
"âof course, it's no problem. Have a good day." Minghao put the phone down with a clack.
Wonwoo had peeled away half the shell when Minghao walked into the kitchen.
"Oh good, you found breakfast."
"Yes thank you, I'm sorry for imposing on you for another day," Wonwoo carefully slid the egg out, whole shell connected.
Minghao flapped one hand, as if waving Wonwoo's apologies away into the breeze, "If anyone's to blame, it's Junhui for being so nebulous. I hope you can find him soon."
"I'm not sure if I'm making any progress."
"I think you've progressed further than you think," Minghao said, quick as an afterthought, "Are you heading out into the forest?"
"I have to, don't I?" Wonwoo didn't want to return to Seoul empty-handed, or to call Jun and say he's failed. It felt like failure beyond the immediate present, as if Jun's request was a show of trust that Wonwoo had to honour.
"Can you do me a favour then?" Minghao drew back a chair and sat down opposite Wonwoo, "I don't think it'll be too of a diversion."
"What is it?"
"Someone's reported in a monkey that's been eating dreams."
"A monkey eating people's dreams," Wonwoo repeated incredulously, "Is that so?"
Minghao unfurled one set of his long fingers and proceeded to speak as if he was reporting on a shortage of milk at the grocery store, "Usually it's not too much of an issue but he's been getting greedy and eating more than he's supposed to. Dreams half-dreamt, daydreams, even some short-term memories. He's been leaving crumbs and spilling where he's not supposed to. Mrs Hong keeps seeing her dead son, and Ms Kim landed in her husband's dream about the young piano teacher Mr Lee. As you can imagine, it's causing a few problems."
"I see," Wonwoo's glasses fogged up as he bit into the bun, meat juices spilling out the side, "So I also need to catch a monkey too now?"
"Nothing like that," Minghao shook his head, showing one of his tight-lipped smiles that pushed his cheeks into fullness, "No need to go looking for him specifically, but you bump into him, just say Xu Minghao will shave the hairs off his behind."
Minghao watched Wonwoo as he put on his shoes by the veranda. Wonwoo was careful as he used the shoe horn instead of stamping his feet inside as he usually does. They were Minghao's sneakers and unexpectedly fashionable. For some reason, Wonwoo expected everything of Minghao's to be rustic and traditional.
Just as he was about to leave, Minghao raised his voice, "Have you thought about it further? Why Junhui wants his heart back now?"
Wonwoo paused. He had given it some thought when he was in the forest. Wondering why Jun's heart was away from his body, in a forest where Minghao lived. Why Jun sent him to visit Minghao.
"I think it has to do with his career," Wonwoo finally said, proceeding cautiously.
Minghao sounded taken aback, as if the answer was a surprise visitor, "His career?"
Wonwoo thought about Junhui, about the way he looked when Wonwoo picked him up after work, script in hand, dog-eared and tabbed. The way his eyes looked when his mind was elsewhere, vacant and open, as if anything could step in and possess him.
"He's only been doing dramas, either simple romances or action flicks with characters whose only role is to fill a trope," Wonwoo explained. "But I don't think that's enough for him. He wants to take on more serious work, something more philosophical and complex. There's a few directors that he wants to work with, auteurs and artists, people who have vision."
"You think that the way he is now, is holding him back from being a serious actor?" Minghao queried, leaning against the door frame.
"Something like that."
"I suppose that could be true."
"You don't think so?" Wonwoo asked.
"I wonder if you're thinking too hard about it."
"What else could it be?"
Minghao raised a hand to his mouth, knuckle curved against his lip as if holding down a smile, "I mean, what else is a heart for, if not for loving?"
The forest was louder today, swelling to life with the summer heat. The cicadas were broiling the air with their chorus, like town square with a thousand parallel conversations about the same complaint.
The sound of Wonwoo's footsteps vanished as he walked, swallowed by the dirt below and the swell of noise around him. The path grew faint at times, reclaimed by the undergrowth where human feet failed to stamp its incessant mark, but there was always a surety ahead, a brief clearing or a clean line that revealed a future distance.
Again, there was no sign of cat or creature all morning, and Wonwoo resigned himself to another fruitless day when he rested for lunch. He chose to sit on a rock that was large enough to lounge on, with a little piece jutting out that was a perfect as a back rest. Like a competent parent, Minghao had packed him food: two bananas, soda crackers, dried squid, and three rice balls wrapped in foil.
He had barely chewed his first bite when a low baritone interrupted his thoughts.
"Excuse me, you're in my spot."
"Sorryâ," Wonwoo shuffled across, and then blinked. It took him a second to realise that it was a monkey speaking and that it was speaking to him in a voice that could've belonged to his boss or Jun's manager. He was being told off by a monkey.
The monkey was carrying three persimmons in the cradle of his arms as he squatted down on the spot that Wonwoo was sitting. It set down its goods carefully in front of it, eyed each fruit with an expression that was lucidly considered, and then picked out the one in the middle to eat first.
"It's a good spot for lunch isn't it," the monkey commented.
"I suppose so," Wonwoo replied automatically, his voice sounded small and distant, as he had stepped into another room. He swallowed the rice in his mouth, "You're a monkey that can talk."
"Yes I'm a monkey that can talk," it flicked its tail at Wonwoo, "Please don't be too surprised, it's tiring for me to repeat the same conversation with every new human I meet."
"Would you happen to be the monkey that's been eating dreams?"
"Let's say I am, what do you want?" the monkey paused its lunch to squint at him, "You've been hearing things about me?"
"There's been...complaints."
"About the performance of my services? Pffah. What can they do about it? Nothing! I come and go as I please."
"That's just what I heard," Wonwoo looked at his remaining two rice balls sitting in his lap, and the shape of them sparked a reminder, "Actually I've been told to pass on a message, from Xu Minghao."
"Xu Minghao? The dancer?"
"Yes," Wonwoo thought it would be simplest to agree, "He said he will shave the hairs off your behind."
If a monkey's face could drop, this one did and Wonwoo saw it, saw the colour blanching from his cheeks and the fur on his scalp prickle upwards.
"Oh no, oh dear. That's not very good at all," it put down the half eaten permission and tucked its feet underneath itself, rocking a little forwards, "He didn't mean it did he? He won't do it if I start eating neatly, right?"
Wonwoo shrugged and pushed up his glasses, "Just passing on the message."
The monkey shuffled closer, "You have to speak to him for me. You don't understand how difficult it's been. You would too if you were me. Everyone's been dreaming such vivid, delicious dreams, it would be an utter waste not to eat them."
"You've been creating a bit of a mess," Wonwoo said, "And it's been causing some trouble when the dreams you've eaten are leaking into other people."
The monkey stuck one thumb inside its mouth, teeth tapping nervously on the tip, "I have to eat them all, you see. It's not a simple matter of just stopping."
"You haven't eaten mine."
"Yours? You haven't been dreaming."
"I have, I dreamt both last night and the night before."
"You're staying with Xu Minghao aren't you?"
Wonwoo nodded.
The monkey shook its head fervently, "I was there both nights and I ate all of Minghao's dreamsâhe dreamt that he was being choked by his shadow, and he dreamt that he was falling from the sky. But there were no other dreams in that house for me to eat."
"I was dreaming," Wonwoo insisted, "I remember it."
"Hmm," the monkey sat back and gazed at Wonwoo with a sagely, diagnostic look, one hand on its chin as if cupping a long beard, "How do I put it young man... you have a loose soul, one that is barely connected to your body. Which is fine most of the time, but in a place like this, it's bound get shaken and twisted. I don't think you were dreaming, but rather seeing what your soul was seeing when it went walkabout."
"A... loose soul?" Wonwoo pushed his glasses up. He thought about the blonde man, and the way his heart trembled in his chest when he stood by the lake.
"Like a kite that hasn't been wound up properly and all the string is hanging loose. It gets blown in all directions by the wind, and there's nothing you can do to control it." the monkey scratched its behind, "If I may share some advice, as someone whose familiar with these kind of things, you got to lock it down or cut it loose. It's no good hanging on by a thread. You got to decide what to do with it."
I don't know what you mean or where to start. "I need to find a cat," Wonwoo said unhappily, "Then I can leave the forest."
"You need to find a cat?" The monkey perked up, "Why didn't you say soâactually how about this, I help you find your cat and you don't tell Xu Minghao my favourite lunch spot." It stuck out its hand towards Wonwoo.
"Sure..." Wonwoo shook the monkey's hand, who held him in an unexpectedly firm handshake, "How will you find a cat in a forest?"
"By their dreams, I know where all the dreamers are."
"Cats dream?"
"Of course cats dream. Even electric cars dream."
"Electric cars?" Wonwoo blinked, "What do they dream about?"
"About the roads they've been and the humans they've seen," the monkey turned to Wonwoo, "Now tell me about this cat of yours."
"Um," Wonwoo jolted his hands up to keep up with the conversation, forming a shape in the air, "It's grey, and around this big, apparently quite fatâ"
The monkey jumped up, "Oh I know him."
"You do?"
"Of course, he's the stinkiest dreamer in all of Jangtaesan. He's always dreaming about malatang andluosifen." The monkey shuddered, "I always know where it's been."
"You do?" Wonwoo jumped up as well, "Where is he now?"
The monkey pointed behind Wonwoo, "He's right there."
FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
There was a ginkgo tree behind the rock they were sitting on, and a little cavity about waist height off the ground with a grey tail hanging out like a particularly extravagant feather boa. It swished when it caught onto the lull in their conversation, and then a pair of sharp eyes peered out, blinking when it saw a man and a monkey looking back.
"Pspspst," Wonwoo whispered and then immediately felt silly for doing so.
"Are you stupid?" the monkey sniffed, "Even I know that doesn't work."
"Worth a try," Wonwoo shrugged.
"Aren't you just going to grab it and go?"
"Minghao said I wasn't supposed to, it has to leave with me willingly."
The monkey cocked his head, "Why does it matter? It's just a cat."
"It's not just a cat," Wonwoo sighed, "It's a long story."
"Well, you got to give it something, why should it leave with you?"
Because Wen Junhui needs his heart back.
Wonwoo took a cautious step forwards, arms by his side, carefully watching the cat for any twitch of fear or apprehension.
Eyes flicked towards him, and Wonwoo's heart seized, bursting into a bright ache that dislodged all the air from his lungs. It hammered like a frantic hummingbird, twisting and bouncing towards his throat.
Wonwoo clutched his neck and swallowed, gasping once and then slamming his mouth shut when he felt a violent flutter rush up his body. Something was coming up and he knows, he knows he must keep it inside, out of the light where it can be taunted, where it will be revealed to be the ugly, shameful shape that it has to be.
The cat moved, face ascending a little further out of the tree, tilting its head as if asking Wonwoo, do you have something to give me?
Nothing but words. Wonwoo has words, words in his head that he doesn't dare to think, doesn't know how to wrangle from the sky and into sentences. Words that swirl his belly into a churn and work up his blood to a simmer.
"I don't know how to say it," Wonwoo snatched onto some naive courage that flashed through him, "I don't know how to face you knowing that I have something to say."
Ears flick, grey eyes stay unblinking, locked in.
"Won't you go back? To where you came from?" Something inside Wonwoo shook with every word he released. "I didn't even realise he was living without his heart, and now I wonder how lonely it must have felt, how tiring, to always live unsatisfied, always chasing towards a piece to fill the hole while knowing his heart was already here, in the forest."
The cat's eyes narrowed, and its tail slithered inside, hiding out of sight.
"Please, he needs you because he wants to love again," the words rushed out of Wonwoo, like a wave streaming through a blowhole, an avalanche pushing him towards a crevasse, the verge of something irreversible. "I don't even know who he wants to love."
"It's probably Minghao," Wonwoo rubbed his eyes, "I'm an awful person aren't I? I'm jealous of him, that he was close with Jun once, that he might be close with Jun still. I don't even know if they dated. I think they did. You were in love with him weren't you, when Jun sent you away?"
The cat did not answer.
"It doesn't matter," Wonwoo took a deep breath. The flurry in his chest had calmed down, but he could feel it's presence there still, like a cough about to explode or a bird about to hatch, "Even if Jun wants to love Minghao again, I want you to go back. I want him to be in love because I want him to be happy. Because I'm happy when he's happy."
Sunlight everywhere, undiluted, glorious candour. Warmth from his toes, leaves in his hair. The forest at his back, a chorus echo.
"Oh," Wonwoo blinked, "I think that means I like him." And then once more, with the weight every word like a page being unturned, "I like Wen Junhui."
Everything freezes. The summer snaps, sharp like the crack of a whip. Wonwoo lurches over, coughsâgagsâchokes on the burning in his throat, the shrill scream in his ears and the pain in his chest as something tears away and surges out claws first.
And then silence.
And then birdsong, a caw.
Wonwoo looks down.
There's a hole in his chest and a bird in his hands, a crow, black as night and so light, Wonwoo could barely feel the weight of it on his fingers. It felt fragile, its little heart beating softly between his fingers, bones brittle like pins of spun sugar, so vulnerable to the crush of a human hand.
Wonwoo looked at the tiny, pathetic crow, and knew that he was looking at his heart.
"I see," Wonwoo whispered, lifting it up to his face, "You're so small."
Meow.
Wonwoo glanced up. The cat is now leaning outside of the tree, back curled, front paws out and eyes laser-focused on the bird in Wonwoo's hands.
Wonwoo shook his head, "This is not for you, not yet." He carefully, gently transferred the bird to one hand, and stepped closer to the tree, gesturing to the hole in his chest, "But there is space for you now, right here. Won't you try it?"
The cat closed his mouth and eyed Wonwoo warily.
The forest whispered, rustled in the wind of a summer sun at noon, turning like a grandmother about to wake.
âDid you hear? The young man has space
â Oh he's handsome too, this is fine body to live in.
âThe fields need to be harvested by the sturgeon moon
âI need an ambulance, please somebody
âI'mcomingI'mhungryI'mlonelyI'MCOMING
The cat hissed, snarling at the air with bared teeth, and then it was jumping out of the tree, paws outstretched, claws digging into Wonwoo's shoulders and body swinging into his chest. The forest quietened.
"Ooof," Wonwoo winced at the pain, barely catching the cat in time and barely catching his balance. It was astoundingly heavy, heavier than a bag of rice for certain. Minghao was right, it was a big cat, one of the biggest and fluffiest Wonwoo had ever seen. Its fur was shiny and luscious, opulent and healthy, like it's just been brushed. He wanted to pick it up by its pits and see how long it stretches. Instead, he scooped up its bottom with one arm, holding it close to his chest, filling in the hole withâ
There wasn't a hole anymore.
Meow.
"Hello there," Wonwoo said. It didn't look like a stray who's been living in the forest, more like a pampered house cat that's been lounging on human beds and finger fed fresh meals. "Someone's been looking after you, haven't they."
It purred, pushing its soft face into Wonwoo's cheek.
"Don't worry, I will look after you now."
"What about the bird?"
Wonwoo blinked in surprise, it was the monkey, who he had completely forgotten about once he started talking to the cat. He cast a sidewards glance.
"Oh don't look at me like that, I eat dreams, not hearts," the monkey squatted down, "Are you going to keep it?"
Wonwoo looked down at the crow in his hand and he felt the cat move to peer at it too.
It was small, but there was strength in it as it stared back at the two of them with a glimmer in its eye. Wonwoo remembered how it fluttered in chest, how violently it resisted his oppression, how it fought its way out into the world with beak and claw.
Wonwoo relaxed his hand, unfurling his fingers.
Wings open.
"No," Wonwoo replied, "It deserves better."
Wonwoo pushes up, and lets his heart fly free.
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
I donât even know where to begin. Invoking æŹ in 2025 IS UNBELIEVABLE.
The way you wrote Minghao here, he is so much. So himself. Entwining him with the imagery of the forest, of birds (how alike he and Wonwoo are, hello foreshadowing), the tea ceremony, the painting and poetry and Tagore. I am obsessed with his characterization. Itâs fascinating that this is all from Wonwooâs POV. Wonwoo sees immediately what Junhui saw in him. Of course Junhui would like someone like this, artistic and elegant and beautiful in the summer light. (me too junhui) Wonwoo admiring Minghaoâs feet, how he points with them, dainty. like a child meeting their best friend's other friend EXACTLY. Minghao sees and names Wonwooâs envy, his competitive streak. But does he see Wonwooâs desire? Does Wonwoo see his own desire??
Minghao knowing that Wonwoo would succeed because Junhui himself sent him. Wonwoo, unable to acknowledge this, because he canât acknowledge /his own/ feelings, let alone the blinding and hopeful possibility that Junhui might feel the same. In the end it doesnât truly matter if Junhui returns his feelings. Because Wonwooâs journey is about confessing to himself, finding his own heart, even as that journey is tied inextricably to his feelings for and devotion to junhui. AhhhhHHH what a lovely twist on the confession trope and also a perfect execution of a character ~haunting the narrative~
"You'll savour it more when you have less," Thank you philosopher Xu *heart hands emoji* also cannot stop laughing at the concept of Mormon Wonwoo. Not only your world-building but your setting-building, the description of this specific forest and lodge, is beautiful and atmospheric. So many descriptive turns of phrases tickled my brain it would be impossible to list them all. Wonwoo hitting his head on the windchime <3 he is JUST A GUY <3
Itâs been years since I read Kafka on the Shore and there are absolutely references here that are going over my head. but youâve taken all the parts of Murakami that are most fascinating and breathable and wondrous to me and youâve made them your own and itâs!! So SO good!! The magical realism!! The hints at possession/spirits/souls. The dreams. THE DREAMS. "ç, the clarity of nature as a taste." your touches on multilingualism, of 8junâs shared language being another point of jealousy/contention for Wonwoo. Iâm obsessed. âA man left his shadow onceâ followed by he dreamt that he was being choked by his shadow, and he dreamt that he was falling from the sky but Minghao is living whole, Minghao is not the man who left his shadow⊠oh ho ho there are so many stories here. I love how gently theyâre referenced. It feels like looking at an apartment high-rise in the middle of the night, when only a handful of windows are lit, and you get these heartbreakingly intimate glimpses into other peopleâs lives that then just fade away when the light goes out. Jeonghan in his little houseboat, leaving his husband and returning (assuming it is Jeonghan hmmm). The talking monkey (LOL). Minghao being known to others as more of a dog person (I see what you did there!!).
âWhen I'm in the forest, I want to walk in as a whole person, my full weight sinking into the earth. When I'm in the rain, I want every part of me to experience the rain. When I wake, I want all of my body to face the morning, even if waking is difficult." And finally, this part. HWA. hwa!!!!!! How could you. How could you take the original Murakami quote and rework it in such a way that synthesizes what you were talking about re: living deliberately, being mindful of time and thought and brainspace and community, in a world which wants us to give these things up. How beautifully this echoes those sentiments. How could you have made me tear up like thisdfjkshfjksdkgjdl. I haven't had a chance to read your longer post on convenience and community yet but I think about what you said on living, and living through the efforts of others, frequently. His brain itched for a game or the dopamine of a youtube video but he doesnât, he canât, and this line implies that Wonwooâs whole mind/body/soul, his genuine individual effort, were needed to find Junhuiâs heartâto find his own heartâthat the effort itself is exactly what matteredâ (how could you have done this!!!!) ;___; <3 (also now I am wondering what it means that Wonwoo let his own heart go free -- will junhui need to quest his way to the forest, too, in order to bring back wonwoo's heart? or were their intentions different enough that wonwoo is now free to love whomever he chooses, unlike junhui who /gave up/ his heart with the intention of loving no one? as always love to think and philosophize over your plots hehehheh)
Thank you + how dare you + in awe of your brain + this one will live on in my heart so bad + HAPPY 17HOLS BABYYYYY!!!
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
your prompt was awful (complimentary), I didn't even know I had this story in me until this prompt dug into my soul and pulled out a a never-ending chain of handkerchiefs all going back to my old essay on kafka/murakami's metaphors, my ongoing ruminations on how to live this life, and recent conversations with an oomf about seventeen's differing motivations as an artist.
Which is to say, the story emerged at midnight fully feathered (Wonwoo goes into the forest to find Junhui's heart, and can only retrieve it by giving up his own), but as I wrote over 3 nights, I realised there was so much more I wanted this story to say: about life, about philosophy, about love.
I did think of several epilogues for the story:
- crow lands at Junhui's window
- Minghao makes a call to Jun to come visit, a crow caws overhead
- Wonwoo dreams of fishing with Jeonghan on his lil houseboat (ctrl-paste from in the soop 1)
âas you noticed, in the end it was never about jun reciprocating, but about Wonwoo's journey to look at his own heart and set it free (metaphorically and literally).To your question as to what that action means, yes all those possibilities are now open to Wonwoo, which is the important thing. That ending felt right because I always believe that loving others come from loving yourself first, and even at the end of this story, Wonwoo is not quite there yet (which is why Wonwoo's heart is described as small and brittle, and Jun's as fat and nurtured. Jun's đ”ready to loveđ” because someone has been looking after his heart). The crow now needs to grow strong until it can one day fly back to Wonwoo (or Jun, hehe). Like everything this year, I realise it's never about the result, but the journey. And for the journey, to put in the honest work because if your heart is in it, nothing will ever be a waste.
The more I wrote the more I thought about how the forest means something different to each of the characters: Minghao, Wonwoo, Jun, Jeonghan. Wonwoo's experience is close to Kafka's (i.e. going through the forest as a metaphor to confront yourself). For Jun, it is a place to hide his heart, to lock it away far away so that it can not affect him, whereas for Minghao, being next to the forest reinforces his need to stay whole, to reinforce his seams, to fight his shadow even as it seeks to destroy himâoh klav your prompt is like a virus I'm fighting. There are so many stories in here because of you.
As for Jeonghan, lets say the relevant data points are:
- bodies without a soul are prone to possession
- wonwoo dreams of jeonghan on the houseboat that night, after seungcheol's call
- the monkey tells wonwoo that he hasn't been dreaming
- jeonghan has cut a soul from it's body before
- Ms Hong's son died young
u___uâïžSome other treats for you!!
> æŹ Minghao is absolutely the inspiration for the Minghao in this story, along with in the soop wonhan fishing aesthetics, I thought about artist!minghao from that soop where he paints the shadows of the forest and had to terminate that thought with an axe because I started thinking about a killing commendatore AU (which takes place on a mountain with an artist going through a creative block and has to kill his shadow)
> the tagore poetry collection is of course, stray birds (which felt too pointed to name)
> monkey is inspired by the murakami short stories A Shinagawa Monkey and Confessions of a Shinagawa Monkey (paywalled), which is about a talking monkey that steals the names of the girls that he loved
> sappho fragment 31 is the one about jealousy (the lover looking at the beloved looking at someone else) - it was so fun to think about Wonwoo as someone who is content to love from a distance until some competition comes in and sets the heart in his chest on wings
thank you for listening and reading + how dare you for prompting and seeing my soul + happy 17hols and happy new year!
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
The towel was warmer than expected, as if recently dipped in tea and not just tap water. It gave Wonwoo an obligation of ritual, to follow the grains of wood across its breadth, to clean each table slowly, methodically like a man of culture.
Oh the murakami of it all⊠the beauty of exercising mindfulness during the mundane (and jww feeling like an impostor even as he does it lmao)
There's a look on Minghao's face that's halfway between a pout and a frown. It makes him look younger, petulant, like he knows he's right but doesn't know how to explain it.
LMAO i can see him down to the exact microexpression (any gose in which he gets falsely accused of anything).
As a fellow xmh lover I am so completely charmed by his characterisation here. Xu Minghao the teacher, the painter, the dancer and owner of designer sneakers. Who is certain and comfortable and knows unknowable things and holds influence it seems like no human should. He's perfect and he's the perfect foil to Wonwoo who canât even bear to look directly at himself
Minghao ignores him. "Interesting. Acting was the reason he gave it up in the first place."
"Gave what up?"
"His heart, of course." Minghao raised an eyebrow, "Aren't we talking about Jun's heart?"
Oh I know EXACTLY what conversation sprouted this idea omg⊠And we never reached any conclusion about âWhat is it about acting that Jun finds so compellingâ except âmaybe itâs because it gives him a way to receive love as someone other than himselfâ and how youâve taken and expanded that concept into: he has to literally DIVIDE HIMSELF into parts to pursue his craft. He can receive love (whether via his career or on a personal level (Wonwoo) ((Minghao))) but at the cost of his own ability to give that love back UGH its idolverse meta all the way down
"Can't you stay?"
Jun stood up on the ledge and the wind seemed to pick up him with its breeze, "Where can I stay, Wonwoo?"
This is one of those scenes that gains insane combo points on the reread because now i know!!!! Jun I know exactly where you can stay!!! Wonwoo doesnât (yet) but I do!!!!
With the amount of canon references weaved into this, I can only imagine how many Murakami (and other) ones there are that I didn't catch. I have said this to u before but your dedication to and passion for immersing yourself in creativity as not just a thing to do but as a way to move in the world is so inspiring to me and I feel very lucky to be able to witness and read the things that come from that!!!
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
yes yes, this story came out so smoothly because of our recent conversations about seventeen's motivations as artists, murakami, the hotel fic, and what would each of the sebongs look like if they existed there (and now I will be thinking of your boojun fill!!) I was alr in the trenches with the meta and when I was hit with klav's prompt, all the ideas were within arm's reach, ready for rearranging. like why is jun so afraid of being perceived? why can he only be sincere if he's acting? why junnie, can you say I love you 100 times when drunk but grow embarrassed when wonwoo shares this knowledge??!! why are you afraid of being known as someone who loves others???!!!
- one thing I could do under firewall was watch loop xmh clips on rednote, that man has so many microexpressions and all of them are petulant
- another thing from our conversations is learning that there are many ways to write (and to feel about writing), just like there are ways to live this life. when I finished writing, I realised how the forest may seem dark and malevolent but actually it offers different forms of catharsis to different people, depending on what they want (jeonghan, minghao, jun, wonwoo). and then going back to edit, I wanted to make sure that whatever life advice minghao gave, it wasn't prescriptive but rather understanding. sometimes you need to stay whole, but sometimes you need to send a part of yourself away. both are okay!! as long as you are living well!!
thank you for reading and for being part of the process!! <3 no fic is an island etc etc.
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]
Re: FILL: heart in my chest on wings [4/4]