Ship/Member: Wen Junhui/Xu Minghao Additional Tags: ambiguities (in everything), LOTR-inspired lore but not really, sorry for the tree stuff i love trees Word Count: 766 Permission to remix: After asking
For surjamukhi and deadwine . I kept thinking of both your prompts together and this is the result of that, sorry that it's neither here nor there.
***
When I looked around, I saw and heard of none like me. Was I then a monster? - Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
I am someone who did not die when I should have died. -Anne Carson
They say there’s a man on the moon, and that he’s lonely.
Junhui begs to differ.
There might be someone on the moon, but it’s certainly not necessarily a man. It could be entwives. And what if there are men and then in that case doesn't no one have to be lonely?
He says as much to Minghao, who comes to visit him every night when there’s no risk of anyone in town discovering them. He says as much to Minghao, who with his beautiful locks he lets Jun braid sometimes, and his laughter sparkling like the stream nearby Jun feels blessed to hear, and with his eyes that smile whenever intent upon Jun when he’s speaking – Minghao with his self, so Minghao. He says as much to Minghao, who laughs like startlingly clear water, like the clarity that comes after quiet settling after snowfall. He laughs and calls Jun a fool.
“Well so I am! So is everyone else in this town. And so are you, coming to visit me like this.”
Minghao’s eyes soften. Jun often feels there should be a limit to how one human can express infinite tenderness, but they never fail to surprise him anyway. Humans and their strange ways.
“Am I a fool for keeping you company, then?”
Jun falters. Flusters. “Well, hm. I didn’t mean that, you see –”
“Oh I do,” Minghao stands up, Jun rushes back to hide amidst the leaves. “I do see, even though you are constantly hiding in the leaves. Even though you leave me gifts of flowers beside my favourite tree thinking I don’t notice. Even though you call me a fool and then tell me in a hundred and more ways how you care for me.”
Jun hums. Minghao settles down on the ground again after a moment, going back to gazing at the full moon as they had been. There’s a curious wait wherein no one says anything, and then leaves rustle, something brambly sounds, and a curious wooden figure now sits beside Minghao, stonestill. Minghao puts his hand out.
Jun takes it. “You humans are so very strange.”
“Says the tree-man.”
“Excuse you! Just a regular ent, thank you. Or entish, rather. I wouldn’t know. It’d be better if I was human anyway.”
“Would it?”
Jun considers this. Though their conversation reaches this familiar impasse every time, Minghao loves prompting him like this. Neither would admit how comforting traversing the same expanse is.
“Have you seen Paulownia?”
“You know as well as I they have been banned here for decades.”
“Hm. Strange lot, you humans.”
“You say that each time! They’re invasive!”
“Just like you lot. Well, hm,” Jun lies down, chewing on the dumpling Minghao brings him dutifully, even though they don’t taste like anything to him. “Humans often plant a tree when a child is born. They used to plant Paulownia here when a female child was born, to sell the wood when she came of age. Plant a tree, plant a life, whatever. Unmoving trees are strange to me.”
“Says the strange one.”
“But,” he goes on ignoring this boy, encased in moonshine, “different humans plant different trees. Somewhere they are planting apple trees. Somewhere pear. Apparently they believe it will help them decide how long their child lives. But what if someone poisons the tree!”
“Um.”
“It’s a possibility, isn’t it! Aren’t you lot going around murdering everything?”
“And that is your enchanting story of why you wish to be human?”
“The Empress tree,” he turns to Minghao, who is always startled at the green, burning light in those deep brown eyes. “grows everywhere. It grows anywhere. And yet its wood is called golden. You humans hate it, and yet it has so much value.
“If I was human, I would be able to do so much than hide between the trees…” He touches Minghao’s hair. “You who are like the Paulownia can do so much more.”
Minghao leans into his palm. “You don’t make any sense. That tree is only invasive because it’s not in the place it’s supposed to be.”
“And you aren’t?”
They lock eyes. “I could never be any tree, or ent or half entish.” He could never belong to this world.
“And I never some half-baked story the people in these town cook up.”
Minghao snorts. “You have to admit ‘The Man on the Moon’ has a ring to it. Unless you don’t stop climbing trees and forming impressive silhouettes against the moon that story will continue. And what more can you do, how long can you be here? You who have no one else.”
[FILL] i have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine + would you walk into hell...
Additional Tags: ambiguities (in everything), LOTR-inspired lore but not really, sorry for the tree stuff i love trees
Word Count: 766
Permission to remix: After asking
For surjamukhi and deadwine . I kept thinking of both your prompts together and this is the result of that, sorry that it's neither here nor there.
***
They say there’s a man on the moon, and that he’s lonely.
Junhui begs to differ.
There might be someone on the moon, but it’s certainly not necessarily a man. It could be entwives. And what if there are men and then in that case doesn't no one have to be lonely?
He says as much to Minghao, who comes to visit him every night when there’s no risk of anyone in town discovering them. He says as much to Minghao, who with his beautiful locks he lets Jun braid sometimes, and his laughter sparkling like the stream nearby Jun feels blessed to hear, and with his eyes that smile whenever intent upon Jun when he’s speaking – Minghao with his self, so Minghao. He says as much to Minghao, who laughs like startlingly clear water, like the clarity that comes after quiet settling after snowfall. He laughs and calls Jun a fool.
“Well so I am! So is everyone else in this town. And so are you, coming to visit me like this.”
Minghao’s eyes soften. Jun often feels there should be a limit to how one human can express infinite tenderness, but they never fail to surprise him anyway. Humans and their strange ways.
“Am I a fool for keeping you company, then?”
Jun falters. Flusters. “Well, hm. I didn’t mean that, you see –”
“Oh I do,” Minghao stands up, Jun rushes back to hide amidst the leaves. “I do see, even though you are constantly hiding in the leaves. Even though you leave me gifts of flowers beside my favourite tree thinking I don’t notice. Even though you call me a fool and then tell me in a hundred and more ways how you care for me.”
Jun hums. Minghao settles down on the ground again after a moment, going back to gazing at the full moon as they had been. There’s a curious wait wherein no one says anything, and then leaves rustle, something brambly sounds, and a curious wooden figure now sits beside Minghao, stonestill. Minghao puts his hand out.
Jun takes it. “You humans are so very strange.”
“Says the tree-man.”
“Excuse you! Just a regular ent, thank you. Or entish, rather. I wouldn’t know. It’d be better if I was human anyway.”
“Would it?”
Jun considers this. Though their conversation reaches this familiar impasse every time, Minghao loves prompting him like this. Neither would admit how comforting traversing the same expanse is.
“Have you seen Paulownia?”
“You know as well as I they have been banned here for decades.”
“Hm. Strange lot, you humans.”
“You say that each time! They’re invasive!”
“Just like you lot. Well, hm,” Jun lies down, chewing on the dumpling Minghao brings him dutifully, even though they don’t taste like anything to him. “Humans often plant a tree when a child is born. They used to plant Paulownia here when a female child was born, to sell the wood when she came of age. Plant a tree, plant a life, whatever. Unmoving trees are strange to me.”
“Says the strange one.”
“But,” he goes on ignoring this boy, encased in moonshine, “different humans plant different trees. Somewhere they are planting apple trees. Somewhere pear. Apparently they believe it will help them decide how long their child lives. But what if someone poisons the tree!”
“Um.”
“It’s a possibility, isn’t it! Aren’t you lot going around murdering everything?”
“And that is your enchanting story of why you wish to be human?”
“The Empress tree,” he turns to Minghao, who is always startled at the green, burning light in those deep brown eyes. “grows everywhere. It grows anywhere. And yet its wood is called golden. You humans hate it, and yet it has so much value.
“If I was human, I would be able to do so much than hide between the trees…” He touches Minghao’s hair. “You who are like the Paulownia can do so much more.”
Minghao leans into his palm. “You don’t make any sense. That tree is only invasive because it’s not in the place it’s supposed to be.”
“And you aren’t?”
They lock eyes. “I could never be any tree, or ent or half entish.” He could never belong to this world.
“And I never some half-baked story the people in these town cook up.”
Minghao snorts. “You have to admit ‘The Man on the Moon’ has a ring to it. Unless you don’t stop climbing trees and forming impressive silhouettes against the moon that story will continue. And what more can you do, how long can you be here? You who have no one else.”
“For now, we can gaze at the moon.”