#the eyeball had to go on some fucking journey after being knifed out

[reireichu]

rip aemond’s eyeball. not only did you not get proper justice, but your geriatric sperm donor really be here demanding you look at him when your retinal nerve has been severed from the socket like ?????? 👁️ father pls if i could look at you, WOULD WE BE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION?????

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Drink, No Drink

xuexiao - M for violence - 4.9k - AO3!

In which Xiao Xingchen drunkely flirts with an oblivious Xue Yang ____________________________

They come by once a month on average, sometimes twice. Once, about eleven months after Xue Yang came to Yi City, three come at once, but that's a group and Xue Yang, always fair, counts them as one.

Still three times the fun to kill, of course.

The men step into the Coffin House courtyard at noon, just ten minutes after Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing had left to buy groceries.

Xue Yang is busy dumping fresh dirt into a raised bed. He and Xiao Xingchen have built raised beds throughout the courtyard to plant vegetables in. Xiao Xingchen had wanted flowers, but Xue Yang had vetoed the idea, flowers being useless, and the daozhang isn’t one to argue.

He looks up as the men step into the courtyard. “Who are you?”

The leader of the group, a tall, brutish-looking man with a cauliflower ear and broken nose, seems almost angry at the question. “Where is he?”

Xue Yang dusts his hands off. And here he thought he’d be bored until the daozhang returned. “Who is this ‘he’?”

“The blind cultivator in white! Xiao Xingchen! We know he lives here!”

Xue Yang taps his chin. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

The musclebound man on the right steps forward, seconds away from grabbing Xue Yang by the collar and losing a hand. “We were told there’s a blind cultivator living here!”

“Ohhh, I thought you meant the other blind cultivator in white. I lose track. What do you want from him?”

“To take a strip out of his hide!”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “Let me guess, you committed some crime once upon a time, and he got you in trouble for it, and now that he’s blind you want your revenge.”

“How did—”

“It’s all very original.” Xue Yang’s knife is in his hand. He tosses in the air, catching it deftly. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

The skinny little man on the left shrugs. “Not reall—”

He never finishes his sentence. A flash of silver blade, and Xue Yang’s knife is sprouting from his eye. Shrieking, he falls backwards into a vegetable bed, yanking the knife out of his face.

Xue Yang shakes his head. “Don’t you know not to pull a knife out of a wound? Trust me on that one, I should know. Look, now you’re bleeding all over the place.” He produces a second knife and turns to face the other two men, who stand gaping at him in slack-jawed shock. “How about you two? Up for some first aid practice?”

“You—you—”

“Got any weapons? Get them out. It’s more fun that way.”

Still looking confused, the leader draws his own knife out and stands there, blinking, while the other man drops to his knees beside his companion, who’s writhing in the dirt and shrieking like a wounded fox.

Xue Yang makes a face. “Can you shut him up? He’s going to give me a headache at this rate.”

“He—he—”

Xue Yang floats over and slices the man’s tongue out with a practiced twist of his blade, but the man continues to emit bone-chilling scream from deep inside his throat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—” Another twist of the blade, and the man falls silent. Permanently. “You’d think he’d never been stabbed in the eyeball before.”

“You killed him—”

“Like you were going to do to the daozhang?” Xue Yang flies back over near the leader. “And for what, arresting you? You clearly escaped whatever the charges are. Grow up and let it go.”

The leader’s hand tightens on his knife. “The magistrate beat me so badly I couldn’t get honest work again as a porter—”

“Your back, your arms, your legs, what was the problem?”

“My left leg was broken so badly it—”

Xue Yang jams his heel into the man’s left kneecap, shattering it. Howling, the man collapses, knife falling from his spasming fingers. “Like I want your life’s story?” He hauls the man up by his collar and flies him over to one of the raised beds, dumping him in the dirt. Dislocates the man’s shoulder, just to be safe, and nicks the side of the man’s throat so that he bleed out into the soil.

Best kind of fertilizer, or so he’d been given to believe.

Then he turns to the third man, who’s cowering on his knees, forehead pressed to the dirt. “How about you? Going to put up more of a fight, I hope? I mean, what were you three arrested for, anyway? Couldn’t have been anything requiring actual fighting skills. Tax fraud?”

“Forgive me—forgive me—I won’t harm Xiao Xingchen! I swear I’ll leave here, I’ll never speak of this—”

“A bit late for that, I’d think.” Xue Yang tilts his head down at him. He likes seeing the man grovel. Kowtow, really. A trembling heap of peasant clothes and greasy hair, not half as good as if it had been the daozhang or one of the self-righteous cultivators who’d dogged him half his life, but it still fills him with heady tingling pleasure. “You should never have come here.”

“It wasn’t my idea—I swear it wasn’t!”

“Great, a spineless lackey. Even better. Now, the question is how to kill you.” He crouches before the man, patting his trembling cheek with his knife while he thinks. “I usually go for something more creative, but we need to wrap this up before the daozhang gets home, and more than two beds needs fertilizing, so here we go.”

The man makes a feeble effort to resist, taking an easily-dodged swing at Xue Yang's jaw. A flick of his hand, and Xue Yang’s knife is suddenly plunged deep into the man’s throat. Grabbing him by the hair, he hauls the man into the neighboring vegetable bed and gives the knife an experimental jiggle, then wiggles it a bit farther up his throat. A delicate balance, this—he needs the man alive to pump out as much blood as possible, but can't resist playing with him a bit. Of course Xue Yang could always rip out his intestines and bury them in the dirt, but that would be messy, and Xue Yang hasn't time to clean up.

A sigh, and the man bleeding out from his eye socket expires.

Xue Yang hesitates, then removes his outer robes and flies the man over the back wall of the courtyard, dumping him in the forest outside the city.

The second man has died by the time he returns. Xue Yang flies him out, then the third man when he too dies.

He stands beneath the trees, eying his handiwork.

Not a bad day’s work.

If only the daozhang knew that Xue Yang, his worst enemy, had been saving his life for the past eleven months. Knew how deeply indebted he is to the delinquent from Kuizhou.

But the daozhang can’t know.

Not just yet.

He’d probably make me stop, Xue Yang thinks, no matter what the personal risk. He’d insist on arresting all these opportunistic degenerates and bringing them to justice, as if such a thing exists.

The idiot. Xue Yang finds himself smiling at the thought. The sanctimonious idiot, blind in more ways than one. For all Xue Yang knows, he might even hear the men out—“Oh, your leg was broken? The scoundrels!” and embark on a journey to track down the magistrate who’d wronged the criminal degenerates—

A vulture approaches, drawn by the scent of blood, startling Xue Yang out of his thoughts.

“Wait your turn,” he tells the bird. “It’s first come, first serve around here.” Chuckles to himself—too bad the daozhang is completely unsuited for the day’s activities. He knows Xiao Xingchen would have appreciated the afternoon’s humor—maybe even relished the irony of watching Xue Yang, the man who was going to one day kill the daozhang, protect him—

Well, perhaps not that. But he could have gotten a few laughs, at least.

Xue Yang cuts a lock of hair from each of the men, just as he has for the last thirteen criminals who’d come after Xiao Xingchen, removes their tongues, and flies back over the wall.

He can take care of the bodies later, if the vultures don’t handle them for him.

He places the tongues in jars he sets inside a coffin painted with preservation sigils. Then, grabbing a rake, he begins mixing the blood-soaked earth, evenly dividing it among the dozen raised beds that take up half the courtyard and patting the soil down in preparation for tomorrow’s sowing. He’s just finishing up when Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing return.

The first thing out of the daozhang’s mouth is, “What’s that smell?”

“What smell?”

“Smells like blood,” says A-Qing, who can always be counted on to say the wrong thing.

Xue Yang fights the urge to tell the daozhang the truth, see the look on his face. “I got bored without you, and went for a walk in the woods, and found a fierce corpse.”

Xiao Xingchen’s face softens at the words without you. Xue Yang is still at a loss to explain how readily Xiao Xingchen displays his feelings. Surely letting another person know that you value their companionship is a dangerous show of weakness?

Xue Yang has learned to reveal nothing that can be used against him in the future.

What Chengmei says to the daozhang is different. His esteem for the blind white fool is all an act, and there is no way a lie might harm him.

“I have the beds all ready for planting,” he tells Xiao Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen moves towards him as A-Qing runs inside with the groceries. “Were you wounded?”

“By what, tripping and falling on the rake?”

“The blood smells fresh. Did the fierce corpse manage to hurt you? That’s unlike you, Chengmei.” He lays a hand on Xue Yang’s chest, eyebrows rising slightly at the feel of Xue Yang’s thin, silky inner robe beneath his hand instead of his textured outer robes. “I know you, Chengmei. You wouldn’t tell me you were hurt, even if you were.” Slowly, he runs his hands over Xue Yang’s chest, pats his arms, feels his waist.

Xue Yang swallows hard, freezing.

From the touching, he tells himself. Not from the display of concern. It’s hard not to tense up when touched, given how often past touch has been something bad.

Truly it means nothing, the daozhang’s concern. Xue Yang knows this. Has always known it.

What good is the compassion of a man who only cares because he doesn’t know the truth?

Xiao Xingchen rests his hand briefly on his hip, but seems unwilling to go any lower and check Xue Yang’s legs. “You’d tell me if you were hurt, right?”

Xue Yang’s heart is pounding. “….I wouldn’t lie to you…”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Seeming to realize how close they're standing, Xiao Xingchen moves away. “I’ll go help A-Qing make dinner. We'll keep the seeds from tonight’s vegetables, we can plant tomorrow…”

Xue Yang slips his outer robes back on but doesn’t head back into the house. He’s cursing himself for having lost his composure for even a second, especially in front of Xiao Xingchen, of all people.

It’s not like he noticed. You sounded normal, and he’s blind, for fuck’s sake.

The reddish gold sun has sunk beneath the courtyard walls when Xiao Xingchen comes out onto the porch. He looks blue in the twilight, slender and beautiful and somehow soft despite the boniness of his long slim body.

“Chengmei? Dinner’s ready.”

Hesitating, though he’s not sure why, Xue Yang heads inside. Xiao Xingchen hands out the bowls and chopsticks while A-Qing serves.

Xue Yang is silent during dinner, mechanically shoveling rice into his mouth.

Xiao Xingchen does most of the talking, as if sensing Xue Yang is in a strange mood. He talks about the past, places he’s seen, people he’s met. He’s a poor storyteller, with a laughable memory of details, but his tendency to ramble from one story to the next without finishing any of them is amusing in its own way, and A-Qing's interjections of her own more colorful experiences keep any heavy silence at bay.

After the meal, Xue Yang removes Xiao Xingchen’s horsetail whisk from where he keeps it on a shelf in the corner.

“Just combing it,” he says when A-Qing, who has even better hearing than the daozhang and an uncanny knack for getting in his way, asks him what the hell he thinks he’s doing. “It’s getting tangled.”

“Tangled. Right.”

Normally Xue Yang would bicker back, but he doesn’t have the energy tonight. He sits on the steps, the horsetail whisk in his lap, while A-Qing lies on a blanket, staring up at the dazzling carpet of stars as if she can see, and Xiao Xingchen polishes his sword beside him.

Xue Yang knots the locks of hair he’d taken from the three convicts into the flowing mane of the whisk, streaks of black staining the pure white.

A little ritual he’d developed after the first would-be murderer had come to Yi City. Watching the daozhang parade around with a murder trophy tucked under thin white arm was endlessly entertaining.

Now…

It’s still a good joke, Xue Yang tells himself. Still good fun to see the streaks of black against the white. But it’s become a symbol of something else, now, too.

Of what, Xue Yang isn’t entirely sure.

But of something.

The eggplant is starting to sprout when, five weeks later, another convict comes to the Coffin House searching for Xiao Xingchen.

Xiao Xingchen is inside the house making dinner with A-Qing. Xue Yang had just stepped outside to fetch more water when he sees a shadow detach itself from behind a coffin and slither across the courtyard, a flash of silver in its hand.

Jiangzai is out before Xue Yang can even think.

Footsteps.

Xue Yang flies across the courtyard and grabs the shadow by the throat. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Xiao Xing—”

Xue Yang cuts his throat before the man can finish, flying him over the wall before so much as a drop of blood can splash onto the stones of the courtyard.

A shame to waste the fertilizer on the trees of the forest, but Xiao Xingchen is expecting him back any second now.

He’ll fetch the tongue later.

“Thank you, Chengmei,” Xiao Xingchen says when he returns, accepting the bucket of water. “Do you mind chopping the potatoes? The oil should be hot enough any minute now.”

“Fried potato? Not boiled? Do my ears deceive me?” His pulse is reverberating through his skull, so that’s very possible. The quickness of the kill had done nothing to diminish the euphoria that always accompanies it. If anything, it had heightened it, a half-hour’s torture compressed into an intense dose of power and pleasure and blood.

“I figured I would fry it, as a treat. It’s been a year since…well, it’s been a year since we all came to the Coffin House.” Xiao Xingchen turns to the stove, blushing slightly, as if almost ashamed to have kept track of the anniversary, as if he doesn’t think it's as important to Xue Yang as it is to him.

Xue Yang doesn’t speak. A-Qing is glancing at the floor, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

“I know it’s foolish—” Xiao Xingchen begins again, but Xue Yang shakes his head, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see him.

“It’s never foolish to fry potatoes,” he says emphatically. “That boiled stuff is for the dogs. Anything else?”

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “I bought nian gao at the market today.”

“Now you have my attention.” He slices the potatoes swiftly, hand shaking slightly. Lingering euphoria from his recent kill, most likely. “The sweet cake kind, right? Not that vegetable stuff.”

Xiao Xingchen affects chagrin. “Do you take me for an amateur?”

Xue Yang discovers that he’s grinning.

Still from the murder, no doubt. It’s been a while since he’d killed anything larger than the rats that sneak into the Coffin House.

It’s not that he needs to kill. Enjoys it, yes. Who wouldn’t enjoy holding complete and utter power over another human being? Being the most important thing in their world, if only for those final moments? The pleasant exercise of the fight, the witty banter, the desperation in the victim’s eyes as they bleed out?

But, if he’s being entirely honest, he hasn’t thought about it much these past few weeks.

A-Qing turns in early that night, having eaten too much fried food and nian gao, leaving Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang alone on the porch. Xue Yang plays with the dead man’s hair in the horsetail whisk while Xiao Xingchen sits beside him, just a little too close, knee almost touching his, having misjudged the distance. It’s odd, how the daozhang can spin through the forest to sever a fierce corpse’s throat without disturbing a single leaf or blade of grass, but he’s rather clumsy around Xue Yang, stumbling into him at times, brushing his hand with his while handing him something, mistakenly letting his shoulder touch his as he passes.

“I have a surprise,” says Xiao Xingchen.

“We’re getting a puppy.”

“We can, if you want."

“Just joking.” Briefly, Xue Yang wonders what a dog would make of the corpses popping up around the Coffin House.

Well, it would be one way to dispose of the bodies, and save on buying dog food.

He grins to himself at the idea. It's a real shame he can’t share some of his best thoughts with Xiao Xingchen.

Who’s tilting his head at him expectantly. “Chengmei?”

“You’re buying us a new house. A-Qing found a husband. We have an invitation to Jinlintai.”

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “I feel quite inadequate, now. I bought some of this.” He draws two wine jars from his sleeve. “Or rather, traded some protection talismans for it with the local weaver.”

“Is the daozhang a secret wino?” Xue Yang accepts the small white jar. He’s not one for drinking, but he can’t turn Xiao Xingchen down. “Is that what you’re really doing during your private meditation sessions?”

Instead of being offended, Xiao Xingchen smiles. “Given how many great poets were drunks—going by their poetry—I could do well to follow their example.

‘Life in the world is but a big dream;

I will not spoil it by any labor or care.

So saying, I was drunk all the day,

Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door—’ ”

“A tripping hazard for A-Qing.”

“ ‘When I awoke, I blinked at the garden-lawn;

A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers.

I asked myself,

Had the day been wet or fine? ’ ”

Xue Yang struggles to keep a straight face despite the fact that Xaio Xingcheng can’t see him. “Baoshan Sanren teaches cultivating by way of winemaking? No wonder she has to hide on her mountain. Every cultivator for miles around would be trying to sign on with her.”

Xiao Xingchen laughs. “Given how many classic poems are about drinking wine, I wouldn’t be surprised if such a thing existed...at least the poems in Shifu’s collection. She didn’t focus much on classical poetry.” He pulls the stopper from his jar, sniffing it. “So…I just…drink it? Is there some kind of…I don’t know…”

“A wine-drinking ritual? Like you walk in a circle three times, flapping your arms—”

“…do you think we can forgo it, just this once?”

Xue Yang is the one to laugh this time, though he’s not sure if Xiao Xingchen is joking. “You just drink, from what I’ve seen.”

“From what you’ve seen?”

“I don’t drink.” He instantly regrets his words at the look on Xiao Xingchen’s face. “I mean…”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to make—”

“I mean—” And suddenly he hears himself saying, “I could never afford to be…impaired in any way. For…my own safety, I mean. I was just never…look, it’s…” And then, just as suddenly, he’s uncorking his jar and taking a deep draft.

It burns unpleasantly in his throat, but it’s worth it for the smile on Xiao Xingchen’s face at the silent admission that he feels safe here.

That Chengemi does, at any rate.

“How does it taste?”

“Good, I think,”Xue Yang lies.

Xiao Xingchen sips delicately at his jar, then wrinkles his nose. “The poems made me think it would be a lot more like drinking moonbeams and lotus blossoms.”

“More poems about passing out on the lawn?” Xue Yang asks. Poetry is just as useless as he’s always imagined it to be, but it sounds nice coming from Xiao Xingchen. Melodic. Kind of like singing...

...Must be the wine, that idiotic thought.

" 'A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;

I drink alone, for no friend is near.

Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,

For he, with my shadow, will make three men.’ ”

Xue Yang frowns slightly. “I’m sitting right here, daozhang.”

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “So you are.”

Xue Yang shakes his momentary pique away. “Four men, then. Five, counting my shadow. You know, I don’t think those poets knew what the hell they were talking about, like with anything.”

“That’s not true…well, not entirely…there are some very pretty poems about nature…”

“How about a drinking game: I say something untrue, and if you correctly guess that it’s a lie, then I have to drink.”

“Alright.” By Xiao Xingchen’s amused smile, it’s clear he doesn’t think Xue Yang can successfully lie to him.

“I’m ugly. Hideous. Ladies pull their skirts away from me in the street and I frighten children and old people.”

Xiao Xingchen laughs, misjudging the distance between them again and touching his arm by mistake. “Not going by what I’ve heard.”

Smirking, Xue Yang takes a drink. “Your turn.”

“I…I have two heads.”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “That the best you can do?”

“I’m not accustomed to falsehoods!”

The pretentious way he put that should have made Xue Yang roll his eyes again, but the strong wine has mellowed him. “Drink. I hate candy.”

“Drink!”

“See, it’s not fun if it’s something too obvious.”

“Fine. I want that puppy you mentioned.��

“…drink?”

Xiao Xingchen raises his jar. “No drink! I wouldn't mind a puppy."

“You seem more like a cat person.”

“I like all animals. Would you rather a cat? You seem like a cat person. Like…” Xiao Xingchen hesitates. “Takes a while to warm up, independent, but loyal once you know you can tru…” He trails off, as if sensing he’s gone too far.

Biting his lip, Xue Yang looks out over the beds of budding vegetables, silver in the starlight. He’s never imagined anyone examining him in any way other than to evaluate him as a threat. Certainly not to comment on any traits in a tone Xue Yang tells himself is definitely not one of fondness, no matter how much it sounds that way. “Well, I have always liked cats better.”

“My favorite food is congee.”

“No drink, for reasons I’ll never understand.”

“You can add anything to it, and you have a nice warm meal!”

Xue Yang shakes his head. “I killed a man today for trespassing.”

“Oh, that’s terrible, Chengmei! Drink….”

It’s late when Xiao Xingchen's wine jars are empty. He'd had another two tucked away in his long white sleeve, and grown melancholy as the night wore on.

“I did everything I could to ruin my friend’s life,” he says, raising the last of his wine to the moon.

Xue Yang glances at him sharply. He’s kept his head better than Xiao Xingchen, only pretending to drink most of the time. “You what?”

“Song Lan. Zichen. The destruction of his temple was all my fault…” Head drooping, he slides sideways, cheek resting on Xue Yang’s shoulder. “All my fault, his eyes, all me…”

Xue Yang sits very still. Xiao Xingchen is warm against him, his breath soft on his neck. Then, very delicately, he pries Xiao Xingchen’s fingers from the wine jar and sets it beside them on the step.

“That was not your fault,” he says, and feels a thrill at his own words, because of course it was Xiao Xingchen’s fault, it was all his fault, and one day Xue Yang will get to throw it all in his face—

But not tonight.

“You did more than most would,” he says instead. “You gave him your eyes.” And he took them, the fucker! he wants to add. You do-gooding moron, mutilating yourself in service of that plodding lump of self-righteousness—

“My fault, my fault…”

“For what, doing your duty?” Xue Yang’s throat is beginning to tighten. He’s not sure why Xiao Xingchen would be telling him something so personal. For all his friendly, open nature, Xiao Xingchen is guarded when it comes to anything too revealing, to the point that Xue Yang sometimes feels as if he only half knows him. “You’re not responsible for that madman’s actions.”

Xiao Xingchen moves slightly, eyelashes brushing Xue Yang’s throat. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” says Xue Yang, and then, mentally, Drink!

And suddenly Xiao Xingchen is all smiles again, straightening up. “You always know just what to say to cheer me up. You—you wouldn’t leave me like Zichen did, would you? Not even if…I…” He hiccups. “I’d…I’d miss you too much…”

“Drink,” Xue Yang says automatically.

“No drink.”

Xue Yang glances away. Xiao Xingchen chooses this moment to pitch forward, to be caught by Xue Yang moments before he sprawls forward onto the stairs.

“I might be a little tipsy,” he mumbles into the hollow of Xue Yang’s throat.

Xue Yang tightens his grip. It feels…it feels wrong to be holding a person that isn’t a corpse.

A warm, living person, who seems to want to be in his arms.

Not hate being there, at least.

Or so he thinks. Xue Yang has never embraced another person before and isn’t quite sure how people are supposed to behave. Surely Xiao Xingchen would have pushed him away if he found his touch detestable—?

“You really can’t hold your liquor, can you,” he says before he can think into it too much. Gently, he scoops up Xiao Xingchen and half-carries him into the house. He weighs almost nothing, and Xue Yang thinks, I should get him to eat more, then chases the ridiculous thought away and bleaches the spot it had rested.

Xiao Xingchen grips the front of his robe as Xue Yang lays him down on the Coffin House's single bed. “Stay with me. Talk to me.”

Xue Yang hesitates, glancing over at his coffin in the corner of the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Xiao Xingchen almost pouts. Drunk daozhang is a petulant daozhang, it seems. “Just for a little while.”

The feeling of wrongness increases as Xue Yang crawls into bed beside Xiao Xingchen, keeping on top of the covers.

It shouldn’t be like this.

It’s not as if he hasn’t pictured sharing a bed with the daozhang. Who wouldn’t, if they had only a claustrophobic coffin to sleep in? But he’s never imagined an inebriated Xiao Xingchen curling into him, picking up his good hand, playing with it. Tracing the scars, running his fingertip between his fingers, brushing the palm with his thumb.

Soft, harmless touch that makes Xue Yang freeze, every nerve in his body screaming at him to snatch up Jiangzai.

“You have nice hands,” says Xiao Xingchen, voice thick with alcohol, almost giddy, and Xue Yang, focusing on the familiar voice, feels himself relaxing.

He’s safe, here. Safe with the daozhang.

The daozhang would never hurt Chengmei. And Xue Yang is Chengmei, for now.

The daozhang cares about Chengmei.

And in turn—

And in turn, the daozhang belongs to him.

Xiao Xingchen, the man who despises Xue Yang more than anyone else, now owes him more than he can ever repay in a single lifetime. He has saved Xiao Xingchen’s life a dozen times over without him having so much as suspected his life was ever in danger.

True, Chengmei could have killed the unsuspecting daozhang hundreds of times over the past year.

But this is different somehow.

Better.

Xue Yang is the guardian of the man he hates most in this world. Has held his life in the palm of his hand and chosen not only to let him live, but to actively destroy his enemies.

A delicious perversion of what he knows will come on the day he tears off his mask and reveals everything to Xiao Xingchen.

Finally takes his life, after preserving it for so long.

Xiao Xingchen rolls over, soft black hair in Xue Yang’s face, still holding Xue Yang’s hand in his.

Xue Yang wonders what Xiao Xingchen will say in the morning. If he’ll be embarrassed or realize that this was all simply the wine. If Xue Yang should pretend to have been too drunk to remember, or if he should say something, maybe crawl under the covers tomorrow night before Xiao Xingchen gets into bed, see what happens…

The bed is far more comfortable than the coffin, after all.

Will be warmer in winter, too…

He winces at the thought. He should go back to his coffin, stop whatever this is.

"You don't really want me here," he says.

“Drink,” Xiao Xingchen mumbles, and drops off into slumber.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. He wants to free his hand but is afraid of waking the daozhang. As if sensing this even in sleep, Xiao Xingchen tightens his grip on his hand.

Xue Yang stares up at the ceiling, mind settling, the last of his tension fading.

He thinks he’ll go into town tomorrow and buy some flower seeds.

_______________________

thanks for reading! Spare a reblog? AO3

[unikornu]

Page 12, The Gals Time, L&L,

The sun was slowly reaching a horizon casting a strong orange shade on the Nuka Town. Lucy and Gage were on the way back from another journey out into the dry desert, their spirits up as nothing seemed to disturb their routine of slowly getting the gangs under control. 

-Boss, are you sure you had nothing to do with that haunted little girl crap story? You seem pretty capable of causing mayhem from what i’ve seen. Gage joked and enjoyed the view in front of him as the boss was swinging her hips to the sides, puffing a smoke of his cigarette in the air. 

-Just because someone had a same name doesn’t mean its me, c'mon we know it was not even real. She kicked open the door to Fizztop and turned towards the elevator. - But i could show you something that is pretty fucking real..upstairs, if you catch my drift. She looked at him, biting her lips and leaned with her back to the wall at the elevator’s door. 

The more time they were spending together without arguing and fighting instead, pushing their plans onward the more deeper she seemed to fall into the rough raider and this post-nuclear lifestyle as it fitted her as well, even better than the one she had before. Gage wasn’t pushing her hidden suggestions away as often as he used to before, approaching her with his usual grin and looking down at her with certain satisfaction in his eye.

-Ohh…I bet you could start even on the way up hm? He punched a button next to her shoulder and as their lips were shortening the distance Gage suddenly stopped and pulled back up. 

- What now…? Lucy pouted and puffed at him, slightly annoyed by breaking the moment. 

- The elevator Boss…it is up, it never is as we leave. Something ain’t right. Someone else used it. They both backed off from the door with their weapons ready as the lift arrived down, its door opened, empty.

  -That someone might still be up there. Use the outside one and i will go from here. And take this, it might be a trap. She threw him a stealth boy and entered the elevator. 

- Ok Boss, just…be careful. They nodded at each other and as the door closed she crouched low and hugged the corner inside. Raider at the same time covered himself invisible and moved up from the outside.

 *ding* The door slide open, Lucy awaiting in the shadows for any sounds of steps from the room. Silence. She stood up and walked silently towards the patio eyeballing for anything suspicious around. Upon approaching the the two winged door she put her ear to the wooden rough structure of it, hearing just Gage arriving up. She opened the door slowly peeking through a small crack seeing just a dark tall silhouette. She gasped loudly and fell back as the bullet ripped through the wood right next to her cheek. - Fuck! He’s at the bar! Take this fucker down!

Gage heard the signal and as he was about to shove some lead into the man’s head his camouflage worn off. The man dodged the bullet, ducking behind the bar, answering the fire with the laser pistol. Using the distraction Lucy rolled towards the middle bar. She noticed the man wearing a long blue coat and a round classic hat, his face covered with a metalic mask and something that looked like a minuteman sign on his sleeve. As the men were exchanging bullets, shuttering everything to a pieces on their way she noticed that the stranger started heading towards the broken window pulling a stealth device from his pocket.

  - Oh no, you ain’t going anywhere sir. She threw her knife swiftly, its blade flying towards the man’s leg as he was about to make a long jump outside, losing his balance in a process and falling straight down to the hard concrete. The sound of body squashing upon the impact almost pulled the disgust on both of their faces but it turned fast into a chuckle. - Lets go see who the hell he was, maybe there is still something…scrapable. She ordered and rode down with the raider.

To their surprise the body was no longer down, vanished, only blood splattered around, her knife and a holotape, undamaged. She picked it up and shoved into the pipboy.

  “After a week her signal disappeared at the station. Next signal appeared almost a month later from the location…called..safari adventure? whatever, one of our bots managed to catch their plot. She wasn’t kidnapped or lost, neither she’s dead. Instead turned on us and the Commonwealth…traitorous bitch. We need to take her down before. When u finish, put the eyebot back on the patrol. I want to know everything so minutemen can prepare…”

-Oh my God…i forgot that Sturges installed that chip…in my pipboy in case of…. Fuck. Her face paled as she look back at Gage, her hands shaking.

-Boss…i will be fucking serious right now. Gage forehead wrinkled heavily as his eyebrows twitched into the anger. - You did not tell the fucking minuteman that you are done with them eh? You did not think for a single second that they might be fucking looking for you?! And that u have a fucking tracking chip in pipboy!  He approached her closer poking her chest with a finger, strong enough to make her lose balance. - You just endangered our whole plan with your stupid impulse thinking! And you know what? You gonna deal with it on your own this time because i will be busy setting up whatever shit i can at gauntlet and all over the Nuka Town to cover our fucking asses from being swarmed by minutemen or whoever was this guy. Good luck Boss. He moved her out of the way like a piece of furniture and stormed off deep into Nuka Town without even waiting to hear her back.

  -Gage wait…eh, shit.  She felt like their relationship resembled a sinusoid, going up and down so often but he was right this time, again…She stood confused thinking about her next move but it was first time she was on her own with a task at hand like that. Gage needed her in different matters but she relied on his advices so long that being now, without him made her feel helpless and unsure. After a moment of pondering it came to her mind that there is still one more person she can trust as much and that won’t judge her foolish actions, Lizzie Wyath.

-----

  Lizzie was spending most of the time in her laboratory, down the stairs under the Parlor where no one would bother her brilliant shy mind. But she was always all ears and mouth when it came to Boss, turning into a chatterbox that seemed to have no end. 

-Boss, what a nice surprise! Came to check in on my latest inventions or…maybe you wanna test some on your own? She approached her excited about the visit holding a vial that was releasing a strong stinky cloud in the air.

- Actually, i was about to ask you out. For a…field trip. You and me. Secret mission. Lucy was waving the hand under her nose to push the smoke away from her nostrils and coughing a bit.

  - Out? No no…you know i hate field missions. I only agreed to come here because Mags promised me my own laboratory and that she will use me only when its reaaaaally necessary. Lizzie turned back to her shelf full of vials but was stopped by the boss grabbing her by the upper arms and turning back at her.

-It is necessary Lizzie. I fucking need you and your brain right now. I fucked up badly and i could really use your help, please? I promise that if u agree i will then sit with you whole evening and test whatever weird ass shit stuff you want. Lucy was desperate shaking her as she started explaining what happened. Lizzie released her arms and raised the palms of her hands towards the boss trying to calm her down.

  -Okay okay cool off, chip, robot, minutemen. I will….help but come on first, lets sit and explain me the plan of ours as i get that chip out of your pipboy.

  Lizzie was the second person that Lucy came clear in terms of trust. She almost didn’t fit to the whole place and raider style but beneath that delicate darker skin and tired eyes the inventions and mental arsenal she could deliver proved very useful and scary at times to the Operators. After all she was also like a family member for Mags and William. The deadly trio since the very teenage times. Her introvertic bobble was poping every time she had a occasion to spend some alone time with boss, filling each other with stories and gossip around the town, bringing back some memories on how it was nice to chatter late night and drink without worrying about the gun pulled to the back of the head.

-Aaaaand there it is, that Sturges seem to know his stuff. Well attached, and it didn’t burn after all that time. Lizzie pulled with tweezers very gently a small square piece of tech out of the pipboy, almost impressed. - So..what do you want to do with it? She asked, putting her tools back at the shelf below.

Lucy took a chip, humming under her nose and spinning it in her fingers. After a short thought process she threw it to the ground and smashed with a heel of her boot. - Well, that! Now grab your stuff and lets go to safari to find that bot before i will join the Gage’s club of having another half the town blame me for some shitty mistakes.

  -Oh boy, right behind you Boss. Lizzie pulled a goggles up and snatched the plasma pistol along with a small bag of tools from the drawer. They headed out in a rush through the back door to avoid Mags and William stopping them to asnwer as to whats going on as Lizzie going out was already a strange evenement.

----

  -Sooooo…..how is he? Hm? Lizzie broke a silence as they were on their way towards the Safari Park, the darkness of the incoming night surrounding them and only flickering lights of a distant buildings being their guide.

-Hm, who? Porter? She looked surprised by a direct question but seeing her relaxed face and corner of her lips raised slightly up she knew its a girl chit chat time. - Well…he’s not the most talkative man on the planet but he definitely recompense it with actions and uhm..looks. 

-Mmmm, what kind of actions? You like that rough bastard don’t ya? Lizzie soft corner smile turned into a grin pushing more personal questions upon her and seeing her blush more and more with each minute and her tongue tangling in words trying to explain that its nothing too serious.

- Oh, dammit Lizzie. I don’t even know if he would like….i mean, he said he cares about me, shit but..maybe in his own way. Fuck i don’t know. Lucy shook her head trying to get rid of the soft emotional thoughts slamming into her and get back on the task.  - We will talk it over once we are done and drunk enough for this crap, okay?

  -Sure thing Boss, lets find that flying can. Where was it last time? Up on a tree eh? Lizzie prepared her plasma gun as they entered the safari. The park belonged to the pack. They passed in silence, through the bushes, passing behind a patrol to avoid any unnecessary attention and discussions. Last thing she wanted is to word to spread out about the whole fuckupery. They managed to pass unnoticed into the labyrinth. On the last turn towards the elevator from behind the corner something or someone big bumped right into them pushing them both on their asses. 

-Boss? Lizzie? Now that is a nice surprise indeed, two lovely birds at the same time. Mason laughed and offered them both of his hands so they can pull themselves up. - So…what these two little birds are looking for around my turf hmm? He brushed and twirled the moustache in his fingers eyeballing them both. 

-Uhg, fuck, fine. We are looking for the eyebot, that was on the treehouse before. We kind of…need it for a special project. Lucy did what she could to sound confident in her half lie but Mason was a hard piece.

-Eyebot eh? U mean…that eyebot? He pulled a pile of scrap from behind and threw it down in front of them, one of pieces landing up on Lizzie’s foot.

  -Ouch, goddamit Mason - she squeaked and pulled her foot away. -Why did u smash it? It was kind of important. For my project. 

-Project ye……it wouldn’t let my boys sleep as it was bipping pretty loud as of late. Also if u excuse me i want to have a private chat with a Boss. Mason shooed Lizzie with a hand and as she disappeared out of view in the labyrinth bushes he turned his eyes to Lucy, with a suspicious glare.  

-So, Boss, what really is going on huh? And where is your golden boy, Porter? He approached her closer, taking a bunch of her hair and letting it slide through his palm. 

-Let’s say that i forgot to…burn some last threads related to some people before i took this job and we are fixing it, separate ways this time tho. There was no point lying to him now as it was also one of few occasions they could talk business alone. She let him play with her hair and simply stood there without moving.

  -Well, that has been taken care of...kind of. You can take whatever is left of that scrap with your lovely operator, to be sure,  but…there is one more matter. He leaned towards her, grabbing her chin and pulling her face up. With Gage around he would probably get punched by this time but they were alone. - The parks seem to be running out and there obviously is too many of us. I can see you go into Mags favor, i can understand it, caps are tops but…what about me hm? How do we stand in your plan Boss? Lucy decided it was the best moment to reveal her future plan to Mason as there wasn’t a chance anyone would eavesdrop on them or see them talking in private. Pure coincidence right on the spot.

- Operators will have three parks, u will keep two…but…i will give you the pleasure of slaughtering and ripping apart the last gang that won’t belong anywhere, the disciples. Mason liked what he just heard and a wide grin grew on his face.

  - I knew you were a smart lady. I swear i could fuck you right here for what u just said. Mason licked his lips but the spiky tip of the knife between his legs gave him a fair warning to back off with his idea. He released her and moved on, chuckling under his nose and sending a wink to Lizzie as he passed her by.

  He seems to have a big....appetite. So…we are okay? Can we go back to my lab now? She approached the boss scanning carefully the pieces of the eyebot, looking for anything unusual and then back at her inpatient.

  -Lizzie, listen. You should know too at this point. I talked a bit with Gage about it but never got to organize any safe meeting. Lucy put the hand on her shoulder and shook it in reassurance. - There will be slaughter, we won’t avoid it. Not now but it will happen eventually. I can feel the tension gathering as we draw closer and closer towards the last park. The disciples will have to go, one way or another. I don’t trust Nisha one bit, hell i don’t even know if i can trust Mason but so far he proved a loyal and more reasonable than i would expect. You i trust Lizzie, okay? Tell Mags about the plan but don’t let it slip before it happens right?

  - Wow Boss, that’s…some freaking good news right there. You have my word, of course. And…you really trust me? Me? In this fucked up world, damn. Does it mean…we are…friends of sort?  Lizzie smiled widely at her as she could not refer to many people out there as friends and barely anyone was visiting her. 

-Yes Lizzie, we are friends now if you want but keep your mouth shut about the plan or i will end up on the spike before i turn around to make any further step. She smiled back as they started gathering the scraps together.

- I will make sure there is no single tracking device left in that junk. Or..i could actually rebuilt it and make some fake signals to discourage the minutemen from taking the actions now. Lizzie was scratching her chin pondering about what she could do with that tech.

-Sounds like a good plan. Lets head back. They packed all the parts into a sack and sneaked away towards the Nuka Town.

------

 It was middle of the night, anything crawling towards them was easily heard and eradicated with a bright splash of green plasma flying from Lizzie pistol. They approached an abandoned farm on their way, loud crunching noises coming from behind the house in the distance that made them both feel a bit uneasy but curiosity was stronger, as they walked closer and closer just to see what’s there. A deathclaw, feasting on the unlucky raider ripping his body parts with its claws. Lizzie froze and dropped by a mistake a sack filled with metal disrupting the silence. Deathclaw raised its head and looked right at them. 

-Great Lizzie, i hope you have good enough condition to run the hell out of here. Lucy was pulling her by the sleeve but to her surprise she stood unshaken and started digging in her bag.  

  -Why run Boss if we have these? And i think you gonna like it, my new invention. She pulled an awkwardly big grenade from her bag almost a size barely fitting into her hand with a long strap attached to it. Dozen of explosives power packed into this one baby….boom. The last word shined a spark in a her eyes. Oh she did love grenades indeed.

- The running part still stays tho, now get it Boss! Lizzie pushed the grenade into her hands and started running as the deathclaw thumped towards them. 

- Shit, you and your damn experiments on a go, ok fuck, lets do it. Lucy was no so far behind giving a good spin with a strap. As they could no longer keep the steady distance from the beast she turned abruptly and forced the grenade out, breaking the lock and letting it fly towards the deathclaw. The structure cracked as it got slashed with a claws, releasing smaller ones out that were tightly packed inside. The explosion was so big that they landed few meters ahead on their faces, getting some small burns in the process.

  -Holy shit, Lizzie. Grenade? Its a fucking nuke. Lucy pulled herself up as she noticed a small fire starting on her dress. She patted it repeatedly blowing air after at her hands to cool them off.  Lizzie was not looking any better, the dirt on her face as she managed to land in the puddle of mud, her hair sticking to a face but she seemed happy of the results. Deathclaw was….everywhere, literally, some of its blood on them aswell.

  - How about a drink Boss, in my lab? To a mission well done? And for our incoming future? I have some special stash waiting to be opened. Lizzie smeared the dirt from her face, smiling proudly at the results of her work.

-Oh yes please…Lucy sighted deeply but smiled softly at the thought that the job is done and future situation has been steered into the direction she wanted. Gage would be probably happy too..and the idea of having a drink, maybe two..or just gulping till the morning was certainly tempting as the stress slowly pumped out of her.

------- Well, on a one side Gage was happy as Lizzie skills managed to dump the remaining signal coming from the eyebot, replacing it with something else. He managed to pull some extra security at the gauntlet on his own and even convinced Mason to let some of his dogs for patrols at Town for any new, suspicious visitors. Lucy did scrape some plan together also informing safely the rest about it and succeeded on a way. What he was not happy is to find both of them at the operator lab, sitting drunk on the floor laughing like a couple of a teenage girls with their hair messed up and clothes too after some serious drinking. 

-Opss, i think…i will leave you with your grumpy man. hm? Porter. Lizzie pulled herself up, swinging to the sides and saluting the Gage as she left upstairs. He saluted her back and turned his eye back to the Lucy.

-Boss, were u drinking your asses the rest of the night? And what did u blow? Nearly whole town heard it, scaring the shit out of traders. He was stoic, with his hands crossed at his chest, awaiting answers. 

- Well…let me start by saying that the plan is now in knowledge of both sides, pack and the operators, without any other ears hearing it. She started to slowly stand up, rolling and putting her clothes back in a proper manner. And… we have the eyebot signal at our advantage now. She was blubbering but not stopping to explain. -Aaaand Mason almost wanted to…fuck me in the bushes aaaand we blew up a deathclaw, literally. Gage eyebrow twitched as he heard the part about Mason. 

-Pardon, fucking what? Mason? Fucking horn ass dick. He whispered and shook his head but decided to leave it without any further comment as nothing actually was established between them other than the plan and some occasional unprofessional incidents. 

-Well, i’m glad we have at least the situation back in goddamn control. You…okay boss or do i have to drag your drunk ass back to Fizztop? The thought of him carrying her in his strong big arms made Lucy dream for a moment but the remaining voice of the reason shook her back up. 

-No…u don’t have to Gage. I will tell Lizzy to get me something to sober me up a bit faster and we can meet at the top, plan onward, together, as we were about last evening. That work for ya, big man? She patted his chest and leaned against the table awaiting him to leave but he didn’t. He just stood and stared at her releasing his arms slowly, letting them fall to the side.

  -Ye…about that last evening. I remember you had something pretty fucking specific on your mind Boss and we got disrupted. Her amber eyes raised up as he approached her, grabbing her by hips and lifting up on the table.

 - And Mason..i don’t know what u think of him but he can shove off his rainbow dick somewhere else for now. Now thats what she liked mostly about him. Putting his actions or words right there when she least expected it with no further discussions and sudden wave of confidence that was leaving her snarky comments aside.

-Ya know what…just shut up and come here before something else ruins that shit we have right now. She pulled him by the belt and moved her legs aside allowing him to be right at her.

Lizzie saw them peeking from behind the corner, seeing the flasks dropping to the floor and breaking as they were caught in a wild kiss on her working station but she decided that ruining this moment was not worth some pieces of glass and the view was pretty good. 

 They were back on the upper line.    

[fictionerd]

Good to see you friends!

Got a marathon run of posts. This afternoon because I failed to put anything out yesterday. I get sidetracked by things sometimes and only when the day’s good and over do I realize “Oh yeah I had another thing to do today.” However, we’re not here to talk about that right now. We’re here to talk about the fact that the Scorpion Stung the Fucking Snake!!! Fucking called it! Yeah it was obvious as all hell, but it still feels really good.

So I’m going to jump straight to the fight because that, and more particularly the end of it is what we care about. To the shock of literally everyone “Gearless” Joe comes into the stadium wearing his old gear from the underground ring days. It’s more or less symbolic of his leash along with the earpiece. Fujimaki has Nanbu up in the VIP box with him and a handful of goons. High-quality goons too. A couple of them are even built like gorillas. Despite the fact that Junk Dog is meant to be throwing the match it still serves to show just HOW good he really is. Namely: Good enough to mess up on purpose, AND he goes the extra mile by ignoring Nanbu’s good advice on using what he’s learned to stay out of Glen’s way. 

Everything whirls and centers around the one minute mark of the third round. That’s when Junk Dog is supposed to take his fall. As the third round commences that’s when everything comes to a head. Sachio charges in, having struggled up to that point as to whether or not he wanted or had the right to see his teammate in Megalonia. 

As Nanbu is prepping Junk Dog to take his fall he tells JD that after this he’ll be free. To which Fujimaki immediately puts the lie. There’s no way the snake intends to loosen his jaws now that he’s got his fangs in Junk Dog. So far as Fujimaki is concerned the stray will be fighting in his ring the rest of his life. This is the tipping point for Nanbu. I feel like deep down he knew that was the case, but hoped it might be otherwise. 

Junk Dog takes a solid blow from Burroughs and hits the mat. Sachio’s pleas notwithstanding the fire has gone out in him. Even Yuri’s judgement of his character isn’t enough to shake him, and slowly Junk Dog closes his eyes.

All through the quiet moment as his eyes close I was chanting: “Sting. The. Snake! Sting. The. Snake!” So when Nanbu tells him to 

Immediately followed by Joe’s eyes opening got me hyped as hell. His gear falls off leaving him uninhibited once more and he once again ditches the earpiece. The Gearless Joe we’ve been following since the scheme began is back and from there’s it’s an absolute slaughter. In Joe’s own words: 

He takes Glen down with more or less a single solid hit to the face. Of course the actual bout may be over but the larger fight has a round left in it. Nanbu is up in the VIP box and surrounded by Fujimaki and his goons. Fujimaki says to Nanbu “You chose the wrong man to sting.” 

I love this moment. Fujimaki acknowledging the fact that his own analogy came back to bite him in the ass. As I said last week breaking down the animal symbols and have no doubt stressed to the point of making you guys sick this week, seeing that symbolism and the alternate version of the Scorpion story come to pass was just great. What makes it even better is how Nanbu gets away with it.

Dude straight up gouges out his own EYE! hence the header image this week naturally. We don’t see it literally, but it was set up excellently. Let’s break it down now.

As Nanbu and Fujimaki are sitting in the VIP box waiting for the match to start Fujimaki comments on the Hard Water they’re being served saying it makes for great stock. This, as any amateur analyst could tell (I say this because I am an amateur) is a solid callback to the scene that started this journey: Nanbu in the kitchen with Fujimaki begging for his life. It puts it in your head, and what did Fujimaki want as compensation at the time? Nanbu’s remaining eye.

Then when Nanbu stings the snake and shows his defiance we get a cutaway of Fujimaki calmly picking at the fish he’d been served with his fork, and what happens? The eye gets dislodged. We see foreshadowed in symbolism what we don’t get to see live. That was some excellent Fish-shadowing. [is slapped by something for the pun] 

Now while I saw all of this in hindsight I didn’t on initial watch so when Nanbu picks up the dinner knife from the floor I was half convinced he was going to kill every son of a bitch in the room. Only when Joe and Sachio came in later and I saw him kneeling by the couch did I start to put two and two together and then when he gets up I had a glorious “Oh Shit!” reaction. This was further intensified when Nanbu offered to “tear out his own heart and fork it over” if Fujimaki wasn’t satisfied with an eyeball. Fujimaki apparently is satisfied. The man who wanted to see Joe go far more than anyone willingly sacrificed his chance to actually see it happen. Furthermore I love that Fujimaki’s reaction amounts to “Who even does that!?”

I was going to say that the final scene of Yuri working out his frustrations on a punching bag while his dog acting as an emotional surrogate for him snarled at nothing confused me. That scene coupled with him being the one to spot Joe’s ID where Sachio dropped it made me think that he must have found out Joe got this far on a fake ID and was mad about it. However, I think I’ve got a more logical chain of events now that I’ve thought about it.

Yuri found the ID, handed it over to Yukiko, she analyzed the thing, and when she found out what Joe had done she told him she was going to call an end to Joe’s charade. That’s my theory on Yuri’s frustration. We know he was aware of Joe’s past because of the inciting incident of the series. So it wouldn’t make sense for him to be mad because Joe’s a fraud. He knows that Joe both is and isn’t. So far as the ID goes, yeah he’s a phony. In the ring, though, is another story entirely. Suppose we’ll just have to see if I’m right a second time in a row next week.

Until next post keep talking fiction, friends! I’ll see you soon.