westwhere | writing sins

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writing sins

WHO: Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen | Xue Yang and OPEN
WHEN: some backdated action, as I had to go on hiatus, some of it pre-poisoning incident, some after, honestly, once he's done with Xingchen, he'll not care what is going on anyway, so it can be set whenever
WHERE: depends on the prompt
WHAT: he will definitely almost destroy Xiao Xingchen's soul, I'm sure he'll do something awful in the other threads too
WARNINGS: mentions of murder, gaslighting, delusions, toxicity all around

[CLOSED TO XIAO XINGCHEN] what is justice?

Things had fallen apart some time ago. A long time ago. Before coming here. Before Xingchen's death. Before it all started. He hadn't, truthfully, wanted to see Song Lan arrive that day. Even if it all worked out exactly as he'd planned.

Because it worked out exactly as he'd planned.

But then Xingchen ends and the thought of that... It had fallen apart long ago. He couldn't really tell when.

What he knew was that the weather was no good, the air felt tense. It made it feel as if there was a weight on his chest. Xue Yang rubbed his eyes, stinging from the wind, then he moved forward suddenly, to snatch Xingchen's wrist as he sees him walking past on the street. He had known he'd come this way, naturally, had been waiting and watching. And he simply pulled him into a side street away from the stream of people, against himself. A warm body, not the cold one he remembered too well. "Daozhang, it's me."

His voice comes softly, to reassure, and to keep from causing a scene.

And, yes, maybe to see his face light up over his presence one last time. Memories are nothing but a prolonging of pain, but he can't resist making them anyway, like slicing daggers through himself.

[OPEN] what is left

Most of the time so far, his room in Vannozza's part of the palazzo has been quiet, he's spent more time out than in and there was never a reason to make noise.

While silence is still the default now, every now and then yelling and thuds can be heard, and the vibration of a body hitting the wall can be felt. It sounds not unlike a fight, so it may make sense to investigate.

[OPEN] blind obsession

It happens without even thinking, that he starts looking for him. As soon as he leaves his room, whether he walks through the palazzo or through the streets of the city, whether he sits on a roof or leans against a wall, his eyes are always searching every face.

Sometimes he actually spots Xingchen, then he stills at first, before getting out of the way, but not too far. Out of reach, but not out of sight, his eyes trained on Xingchen in a not too subtle way. He doesn't care about being subtle in this.

[ooc: Feel free to knock on his door to tell him to keep it down or, I dunno, bump into him somewhere or catch him be an intense stalker of a blind daozhang. I am also open to writing more prompts, if you are interested (or want to remind me of something I wanted to do but forgot because hiatus) just hit me up via pm or

reineke or reineke#8640 on Discord.]

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The weather is a little windier than Xingchen would like, but it's nothing he can't handle. He hasn't mapped out every inch of this city yet, nor does he expect to, so he's just as half-blind to some streets as he'll ever be, wind or no. But he still wants to get out and still explore the city. He doesn't need to cook his own food considering they're all staying in the palace, but he might as well pick up some things to help his chef cover story look a little more legitimate. And, if he has time, he'll pick up some more candy for his friend...

All these thoughts leave his mind immediately when he's grabbed and dragged off the street. What's going on? Who is this? Will he have to defend himself? But his fears are alleviated just as quickly as that familiar voice reaches him. Xingchen smiles beneath his half-mask and relaxes in his friend's hold. Judging from the way the wind doesn't buffet them as much and how this area is a little quieter, Xingchen suspects he's been pulled into an alley or side street. Somewhere more private. It seems his friend couldn't wait until nightfall to visit him.

"Hello there," he says, expecting this meeting to be full of his friend's typical cheekiness.

[Xie Lian promised he would keep an eye out so that is exactly what he is doing. Maybe a pirate king should want to catch a dragon, and honestly, Xie Lian might have bene a bit excited at the possible prospect of fighting a dragon, but not meddling and all that.

So he sees the figure in black, staring after the figure in white, and he comes closer to stand behind the man.]

... He's going to be alright.

The sounds coming from another room along the corridor were disconcerting, to say the least. Initially, Lily had been inclined to mind her business and chalk it up to one of their group having some sort of vivacious social experience behind closed doors, but the longer she listened the more it sounded like a fight.

Wand in hand and concealed in the pocket of her dress Lily crept down the hallway, knocking softly on the door of the room where the sounds appeared to be originating from.

"Hello?" After several of their number had turned up poisoned, she didn't want to think the worst was happening, but her mind couldn't help going in that direction anyway.

[Xue Yang whips around right away, hand moving quickly and by the time his eyes focus on Xie Lian, he already has a knife ready. On edge would be putting it mildly, his current mental state is precarious to say the least.

Upon recognising Xie Lian, he becomes more tense instead of less, moving forward with every intent of pinning him to the nearest available surface.]

Don't talk of him!

[Xie Lian does walk back until his back touches a wall, although more out of reflex than any fear of being threatened.]

... Why? He doesn't belong to you, and you know it.

What if he does?

[It is not a well thought out attack, but he moves against Xie Lian anyway, aiming to have an arm across his chest to keep him still, wanting to hurt him. Wanting to hurt everyone, really. At least he's not trying to slash anything just yet, even with the hot fury lighting up his eyes.]

You've no claim.

I never said I did, and I told you that several time already.

[Xie Lian's eyes flit down to the arm pinning him in place, and then back up.]

... Why? Why would you do something like that?

[Unsure what Xie Lian is actually asking, Xue Yang assumes the logical - given he is in the middle of attacking him.]

Because you piss me off! So annoying.

[The whining was almost enough to take the wind out of his sails as far as his anger was concerned, but that perhaps means that it's a little more surprising when he suddenly does try to stab him with the knife.]

[Xie Lian... frowns a little when the knife grazes against his ribcage, opening fabric and flesh in its wake. At least those clothes are red so blood shouldn't show too much on them, Xie Lian thinks idly.

The blade doesn't get deeper because Ruoye has unravelled from around his wrist, and the white silk bandage has Xue Yang's wrist in a vice grip, pulling it away from Xie Lian's body slowly.]

I didn't mean about me. Xiao-daozhang, why did you hide your identity from him?

He's even more annoying! Self-righteous, stupid, naïve idiot!

[Even as he yells about that, he struggles against the bandage, his hand tightening around his knife. He holds still finally, his lips pressed together as he tries to make sense of what is happening. Turning the knife a little, he wonders if he can cut through it.

His expression shifts, the anger dissipating and his eyebrows arching as he looks at Xie Lian.]

Ah, what kind of pervert are you, huh? Tying young men up like that.

[Ruoye is... evading the blade and slowly pulling, pulling that hand away and trying to veer it towards Xue Yang back.

But those words do make Xie Lian choke a little at first. Excuse you, young man.]

Aiya, aren't you the one making me do this? Stabbing people in the street, really!

... Xiao-daozhang, you wanted him to suffer? Why? Just because he is naive? Just because he cares about people? Because he cared about you, when he didn't know who you were?

Stabbing is quick and to the point, I don't know what kind of dirty, perverted game you are playing here.

[A tricky one, evidently, and not one that he seems to be able to do much about, not that it keeps him from struggling, trying to wiggle his hands free somehow.]

Because he thinks he's above it all. As if. [He scoffs, then smiles, entirely unaware of said smile not reaching his eyes.] The world is not fair. People are bad. Even the daozhang. No better than me. So he should have never acted as if he was better.

There's something about the way that Xingchen relaxes against him that makes him hold his breath, as if that could somehow hold on to the moment. He wonders what worth memories have, then dismisses the thought with a shake of his head. Memories, he's lived with nothing but them and vague hope before, he's fairly sure they are worthless poison. Yet he can't help but want to remember every detail, as if it could warm him, like he tried so many nights in a town where he was the only living soul.

Raising his hand, he gently runs his fingers through Xingchen's hair. It's so easy to touch him now. Easy, while meaning so much. Whispers of more intimate touches seem to come with the movement. Of stroking bare skin. His eyes linger on Xingchen's lips and he wonders whether he can sense it, even blind.

"Daozhang, were you thinking of me? I couldn't focus on anything else. It must be your fault." The teasing tone comes easy as always, and he's not quite aware of the smile fading faster than usual. Dread, that's the feeling. He doesn't like it.

Since they aren't in the privacy of Xingchen's room, they need to be careful not to be seen together in this city. He thinks being split up into separate factions like this is only going to make things worse one day, but he doesn't want any trouble coming to his friend. Still, he can't help but lean into that touch. His body remembers where such touches lead. Maybe he's a little impatient to see his friend, too.

But he holds himself back, still aware they're in public, if a little out of the way of most eyes. Xingchen bows his head, a smile still on his lips. "I must beg your forgiveness, then. You were on my mind." He's been on Xingchen's mind quite a lot, lately. There's nothing he can do about that.

[Ruoye reacts by pulling Xue Yang's hand, still in its grip, upwards and above his head. And its other hand starts unraveling from around Xie Lian's wrist and goes to the other hand, obviously looking to do the same with it.]

Well, stabbing won't kill me, but it's still not pleasant.

[As he listen to Xue Yang, though, he shivers a bit. This is like listening to He Xuan pouring his grievances against the Shi brothers, except... Except, well, as far as Xie Lian knows, Xiao-daozhang hasn't done anything undeserved to Xue yang beyond existing. he's probably missing some information, but...]

The word is not fair and there are bad people, yes. But you're still very strangely obsessed with his opinion of you.

So? [There's just a blink and what might have been a sort of shrug, although it could have also been another attempt at getting out of his binds. Either way, he doesn't seem bothered by the insinuation of being obsessed.

Why wouldn't he be?]

He started it.

[That seems like enough explanation, because he's more intrigued by the stabbing comment and more preoccupied by his decreasing freedom of movement.]

Dirty games... What are you, Master Pervert?

"Is that so?" He questions, as if he hadn't just asked about it. All the better to tease. "I wonder what happens to your body when I am on your mind."

Honest curiosity, obviously. And Xue Yang laughs quietly again, because a quiet laugh is so much better for bringing back intimate moments, even out in the open. His eyes linger on Xingchen's lips, where that smile persists. He wants to kiss them. Kiss them now, kiss them later, kiss them always.

Whatever. At least he'll never leave Xingchen's mind.

"Where are you going, daozhang? Forget about it. Come with me instead."

The rude gesture Xue Yang makes in the direction of the door probably would have translated in spite of all cultural barriers, purely based on his expression, but as she can't see it, it's a wasted effort anyway.

Huffing out a breath, he combs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, absently noting that it's become a bit of a mess. Fitting enough, so whatever. He moves over to the door and opens in, leaning against the doorframe and suddenly looking vaguely bored rather than whatever outrage he might have felt before.

"Ah. Jiejie. What do you want?"

His friend is so shameless! Xingchen ducks his head at such a question, unable to answer immediately. He wonders if he's a masochist of some kind with how often he walks into these little word traps. He should know better by now and yet he can't drag himself away from his friend's presence, regardless of the teasing.

Xingchen likes him. Xingchen likes the sound of his laugh. Xingchen likes that they both can laugh.

He shakes his head, trying to gain some control over the situation. "You should already know." Xingchen is a lousy liar and if he's thinking of something, or someone, it isn't hard to see it on his face. And the two of them have had their illicit nighttime meetings...

"I was only going to the market. What did you have in mind?"

[There's a small blush on Xie Lian's cheeks because why would you call him that!!! He's not doing anything but preventing you from stabbing ~~him~~ people!

But they're also likely to attract attention. One small move of his hands and Ruoye decisively brings both hands up, ties them together, and then pulls upwards, until Xue Yang's feet clearly lift off the ground.]

Let's go somewhere with fewer people.

[He'll start walking away, followed by a floating Xue Yang, and trying to summon his best Hua Cheng glare impression to discourage question.

He will only let go once they are in a seemingly deserted courtyard, calling Ruoye back to coil around his wrist.]

Whatever happened between you two, following him around town while pining is not going to solve it.

[The groan he lets out when he is finally on the ground again is definitely exaggerated, for whatever effect he's going for, and then he's back to smiling, using his regained freedom to push the hair back from his face and turn away.]

Who was pining? [He says it derisively and with a roll of his eyes, as if the very idea is ludicrous.] Maybe you were, Master Pervert. Do you want to tie him up too? Who knows, he might get into it. I've wondered.

[As he ponders this, quite openly, he rubs his own wrists and looks around more than looking at him, as if the conversation really barely pertains him.

This way, it's easier to feel so little.]

"Ah, nothing. Just with you." It's a simple sentiment that, without him realising, might come across as sweet, but really he just hesitates to think enough about what he had in mind to describe it in clearer terms.

Will Xingchen still think of him, after this, in his dreams? Dreams of pleasure, only to wake up with tears. It's not a comforting thought, as such, but it's something that connects with him anyway. What he wants is to never leave Xingchen alone. One way or another. Any way he can.

For now he walks next to him, gently guiding him at times with a hand against his arm, purposefully choosing streets with less foot traffic. It's not as if he truly has a location in mind. Not as if there is any purpose to this than biding time.

"Markets make me think of you, daozhang. Do you know why?"

Whatever the intent behind that statement, Xingchen hears some sweetness in it, and he can't stop the smile from spreading farther across his face. They really should be more careful about being seen together, but it's difficult to care about that when he's happy. So he lets his friend lead him where he wishes, relishing the hand on his arm and wishing for more.

The wind is still present in the city, even in these lonelier streets, but Xingchen thinks it's turned into a lovely day. He and his friend don't always get the chance to have peaceful strolls like this; he treasures A-Qing's company, of course, but even if she can't see the affection he feels for this friend of his, it still feels inconsiderate to be too much in front of her. And then, if he and his friend are going out on night hunts, they have to focus on their quarry and not just each other.

He cocks his head to the side upon hearing the question, thinking it over for a moment. "We visit the market at home together quite frequently?" So, naturally, his friend must associate him with the place.

"Psh. That market." Xue Yang made his derision fairly obvious. "Barely even counts as one, does it? It's not like the market here."

Not like the market in a city. He lifts a hand to hold it against his chest, breathing out slowly. Breathing, it's harder than it ought to be, almost painful. He frowns and pushes past it, looking at Xingchen. His smile. It's time to take it, he thinks.

"Where we first met, daozhang." He lets it stand for a moment, slowing down and finally stopping, so he can move around and face him. "That was a market. A real one. You don't remember though, do you? You just don't know."

This is just how his friend is, Xingchen knows. Still, he wishes he could see the goodness in things that aren't bigger or richer or better in some sense. "It's a small town. We cannot expect the impossible from them." But he doesn't expel more breath on the matter. It's a futile effort, but he also knows that someone should stand up for those merchants and peddlers. They're only doing what they must to survive.

Feeling his friend's presence move, however, makes Xingchen stop. Something...feels different. Perhaps it's just the wind; sometimes it makes it harder for Xingchen to keep his bearings. But as his friend continues to speak, there's suddenly some uneasiness emerging in his gut. He's...a little nervous, in a way he hasn't felt around his friend since the early days when he brought a stranger into his and A-Qing's tiny circle.

Why would he be nervous? This is his friend, his confidant, his...something more?

The words don't make sense, either. They didn't meet in a market, no matter the size of it. Does his friend not remember being picked up from the road? Has he gotten his memories mixed up from some fog of illness at that time? "We didn't meet in a market."

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writing sins

ain't no justice in this town, that's for sure

[Blind Obsession]

what is left

Re: [Blind Obsession]

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