huyaoxiaozi

[huyaoxiaozi]

❝It's not a fucking competition, Tommy,❞ Zi Xin interjected on a frustrated sigh — he wasn't going to waste his breath on trying to convince Tommy that the hell he'd been through mattered, that it too had irrevocably changed him into something dangerous, if he insisted otherwise.

There was a part of him — a stupid, deeply emotional part — that oddly felt a twinge of betrayal at Tommy's dismissal. The tender ways in which he'd touched Zi Xin's ugly scars, the way he hadn't asked about them at all. The fact that, when he'd been allowed the choice to insist Tommy not touch his throat at all for once and he'd permitted it instead? That wasn't nothing.

As he continued, however, a bolt of dread and terror shot through Zi Xin — had he destroyed the fragile thing they'd had between them for nothing? Would Tommy truly force him to ruin his life for certain, would he be forced to consign against his own morals to do so?

❝You know as well as I do that all it takes is a rumor,❞ Zi Xin said, his rough voice softening — despite himself, he couldn't seem to stop it. He didn't want to sentence Tommy to the potential of life in prison for nothing more than having desires and feelings he had no control over. It was unquestionably the wrong thing to do on many accounts and Zi Xin deeply believed that. He would do what he must, even if it wouldn't help either of them — but he desperately did not want to.

❝There's plenty of your people who come here, who's words hold more weight than every Chinese indenture in this city put together. They won't care who it comes from and neither will those who have power over you, in the end. It's not even a risk, it's a certainty ... all you'd have to do is wait.❞ It was subtle, but there was a hint of pain, perhaps of something pleading in Zi Xin's voice now.

❝There's nothing fucking wrong with these wants and needs. Using it against you is wrong, but I have no other way out. I would've chosen anything else if I could have. Not only for that reason, but ... ❞ He hesitated, struggling with how to say this — struggling with whether or not he should. Would Tommy use his feelings, his reluctance, to strongarm him into silence, forced to remain here until his inevitable death? Zi Xin didn't want to believe that. He'd seen who this man was behind his defenses and, if the risk wasn't so great, he felt Tommy would have agreed to help him if he'd had the choice of just asking for it.

He took a steadying breath and briefly closed his eyes tightly. ❝Just ... please don't force me to do that to you. Please. I don't want to be in this situation any more than you do.❞

 This time, Tommy didn’t down the drink in one go, but sipped on it instead. Sipped slowly, and listened. There was nothing to give it away—no change in body language, no twitch of his face, not even a rise of his eyebrows—but there was a multitude of things Zi Xin’s words made him feel. Everything from amusement to unbridled anger.

 Finally, he set the glass back down, but didn’t turn to face the other this time. “Don’t talk to me about survival, boy.” The last word was emphasized, intended to highlight the hidden meaning behind it—young age, lack of wisdom, and inexperience. “You think you’re special because of that scar around your neck? Because of where you are, and what you’re forced to do, eh? Go out there. Talk to any man lying in one of your opium dens, drugged out of their mind because they want to forget the horrors they’ve been through. The horrors they’ve seen. Listen to their stories of the four years they’ve spent in the mud, or in the tunnels. Of how the war has followed them around ever since, images of fellow soldiers with rats crawling out of their rib cages, or blown apart with missing limbs all burned into their minds until the day they die. Those are survivors. The unlucky ones.”

 “Then come talk to me, and I’ll tell you about the things I have done to survive. I’ve sacrificed comrades, friends, family, and even me wife. Getting rid of a mouthy whore that’s threatening me and me family is going to be at the bottom of that list; that much I can promise you.”

 He wasn’t being fair, he knew that. But he had never taken too kindly to being threatened. And not only had Zi Xin threatened him, he’d also shattered what little trust Tommy had allowed to blossom between them. That was like twice the betrayal, and Tommy felt the need to lash out to ease some of the anger (pain, disappointment, sadness) he felt.

 Too bad, then, that all of his own threats were empty. Even if he hadn’t left his gun and razorblades behind in the car, he doubted that he’d be able to raise them at Zi Xin. His body felt heavy, and his heart even more so. Funny, really. He’d always scoffed at the ones that lived under the illusion that the whore they threw their money at was anything more than a warm body paid to scratch an itch. Now he felt himself grieving the distraction and comfort Zi Xin had once provided.

 “You also seem to forget that you’re a desperate Chinese indenture with a mountain of debt, and I’m a well-respected politician. No one’s going to believe you. They’ll think you’ve been paid off by one of me many enemies, meant to drag me name through the mud in an attempt to discredit me and the party. You have no power. Not over me, and not over me reputation.”

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Zi Xin knew damn well who Thomas Shelby was. How could he have learned about his political career without the added waves he made outside of it? Shelby was a loaded name, even in Chinatown, although not as widespread as it was in other parts of Birmingham. Then again, Tommy didn't know him, not really. No one did anymore, if he were being honest with himself. He had no idea of the terrible things Zi Xin had done in the name of survival, of the people he'd been forced to kill. Tommy didn't know all he'd survived up until this point.

       So, when Tommy approached, his gaze and body language conveying how truly dangerous he could be if he so chose, Zi Xin stood his ground. He was three inches taller, but when it came to intimidation, Tommy didn't need to be taller to succeed in it. Regardless, Zi Xin again tilted up his chin, squared his shoulders, but did not uncross his arms — and, for a moment, he allowed all of his built up rage over the humiliation, grief and pain he'd suffered wash over him in a heavy wave.

       His sharp, dark eyes flashed with a vicious danger all their own, a warning as the fingers of his left hand traced the outline of the makeshift leather cuff he wore on his forearm beneath his silk sleeve ... where a hidden blade resided. Zi Xin didn't want to hurt Tommy, but he would if he was left without a choice — but there was a flash of something in the other man's eye before he swiftly averted his gaze. It had been so fast, difficult to catch, but ... there was vulnerability in it. Zi Xin narrowed his eyes.

       ❝For the same reason I know you won't make things worse. With the political climate surrounding people like me, I could have chosen to make your life very difficult indeed and you know that. I could have even demanded we burn this place to the fucking ground, because I sure as hell wish I could. Instead, all I am asking for is some safety and my autonomy.❞

       If I had any other option than this, I would have taken it over hurting you. I don't want to ruin your life. He thought, but didn't say. If Zi Xin conveyed his reluctance too clearly, Tommy may not believe that he would do whatever he had to, reluctance or no. That would not be a win for either of them.

       There was a brief pause — Zi Xin certainly wasn't going to elaborate on the things Tommy didn't know about him, but ... he needed to understand that, out of the two of them, it was Tommy who lacked information. ❝And I know damn well what else you do. Your last name might as well be a loaded gun — but you have no idea what I've done to survive.❞ For once, he was grateful for the scar Tommy had revealed by removing that wretched collar, as it added weight to his words.

 There was a moment in which Tommy wanted to answer that, yes, if Zi Xin would've asked, he would've helped him without the blackmail. But he knew, as well as Zi Xin did, that that would've been a lie. The risk was far too great, and one he wasn't willing to take regardless of how he felt towards the other. There was a reason he sought to find what he was looking for in the deepest, most hidden corner he could think of. He should've never settled on one person. Or, at the very least, he should've just stuck with someone who couldn't speak English. 

 But... Too late now, wasn't it? He had made a mistake, and now he had to deal with the consequences. That's what he got for giving in. For following his desires, his heart. You fucking idiot.

 "So, not only are you demanding I get you out of here, you also want me to employ you? To keep you around after you've betrayed me?" Tommy couldn't help but scoff. It was almost like a cruel joke—if it weren't for the fact that it'd be the smart thing to do. No better way to control the flow of information than to keep a close handle on it. 

 Finishing up his cigarette, Tommy discarded it on the floor without a care. "I don't think you realize how bad of an idea it is to threaten me, Zi Xin. So you know I'm a politician. OBE DCM MM MP, and whatever other good titles you can think of. But do you know what else I am, eh?" Approaching the other, he didn't stop until they stood face to face. His hands were behind his back, but he didn't need a physical show of force—his eyes did the work for him. "I don't think you do, or else you wouldn't be talking like this. Threatening me."

 "You think your life here and now is bad? I could make it worse." Turning away again, he poured himself yet another drink. Because he knew despite the anger, despite the hurt, he couldn't bring himself to hurt Zi Xin—and he was terrified he could see it in his eyes. "Why should I trust your word?"

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Watching that tenderness and sense of comfort disappear from Tommy entirely was difficult. When just moments prior, he'd been relaxed, he'd felt safe to let his guard down, tension bled back into his body, his blue eyes sharpening, high alert engaged. It wasn't difficult to sense the hurt, the betrayal — and Zi Xin could not deny that he fought the overwhelming urge to backpedal, but he swallowed it down. After all, the damage had been done. There was no coming back from this and he knew it.

It was abundantly clear that Tommy intended to drown himself in whatever substances would ease the pain — pain that Zi Xin had inflicted on him, no less. However ... while he hadn't wanted to do this to Tommy, it was a price he was willing to pay. If it meant the potential of never wearing that fucking collar ever again, never having to dissociate from his own body while someone did whatever they wanted to it, never enduring all of the pain and humiliation that strangers seemed more than happy to force on him, well ... he would do anything.

Zi Xin didn't want to hurt Tommy, but he would die in this place, either by someone taking things too far or by his own fucking hand if he didn't.

❝Unless you would be willing to get me the fuck out here out of the goodness of your own heart ... I'm afraid so.❞ He said on a sigh, knowing damn well what the answer to that was. ❝I know that if you can avoid the risk of revealing your tastes, you will — and I know what I am. An escort, regardless of how you may feel about me, is not worth that risk. I have nothing worthwhile to offer you in return, so ... blackmail is my only option. Staying here indefinitely isn't.❞

Zi Xin adjusted the silk robe they were all forced to wear despite how fucking cold it always was, covering his shoulders properly now that he didn't have to pretend. With Tommy, he didn't exactly have to — attraction of this kind was fleeting and rare for him, but he'd felt it. He still did, but he doubted Tommy would be inclined to touch him at all after this. So be it. He crossed his arms over his chest.

❝Get me out of here — keep me close by your side so I don't have to worry about retaliation and I'll do whatever work you need done. Work that isn't this, obviously. I will keep my mouth shut about you sleeping with men, you have my word. If you refuse ... ❞ Zi Xin tilted his head and offered a one sided shrug. ❝All your hard work to get where you are will have been for nothing.❞

 Tommy was in his own little world—one of comfort and bliss that made his stress and tension melt away—so Zi Xin’s refusal wasn’t something he picked up on right away. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until the other stepped away, out of Tommy’s reach, that he realized something wasn’t right.

 “I’m sorry?” Taken aback, he just stood there for a moment, confused. Something was off. Very off. There’d been a time or two before, in which Zi Xin had teased him in a similar manner, but that had been different, playful. This was nothing like it. His entire body language had changed, and it quickly became clear that, whatever this was, it was serious. Which immediately put Tommy on high alert, and his defences back up.

 It wasn’t a great feeling. He didn’t want to feel like this. He came here to let all of that go for a few hours. To be someone else, or at least his old self. But he had a feeling that this might’ve just come to an abrupt end. Whatever it was that Zi Xin ‘needed from him’, Tommy was sure it wasn’t going to be in the form of a request, but a demand instead. Which didn’t bode very well for him. You didn’t demand something from someone who had all the power, unless you had something that would give you the upper hand.

 Letting out a sigh, Tommy grabbed the bottle of baijiu instead of giving an answer and poured himself another drink. It wasn’t until he downed that one and had poured himself yet another that he rested his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He hoped he was wrong— no, he begged he was wrong. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t.

 “You finally found out who I am.” He downed his drink once more, then set the glass down and busied himself lighting a cigarette. “You found out who I am, and now you intend to blackmail me, unless I give you whatever it is you’re about to demand from me.” After taking his first drag, he exhaled the smoke and turned to face Zi Xin. “Am I right so far?”

[huyaoxiaozi]

       Before he'd discovered who Tommy really was outside of this room, Zi Xin would've received the other's attention with anticipation — which was a feeling he hadn't experienced here with anyone else. He knew that Tommy was studying him in more than just the flesh alone, he wasn't only seeing a service he'd paid for. That, accompanied with the knowledge that he was the only one Tommy was seeing in Chinatown ... Zi Xin had been lured in easily, the craving for something deeper, something he'd almost had once, seeming to match exactly what Tommy was looking for.

But ... even if something deeper, something more meaningful persisted between them, it wasn't going anywhere in this place. Zi Xin needed to regain his own atonomy for something like that to even be a consideration, no matter how enticing the craving was — and all that did was strengthen his resolve to do what he must.

He felt Tommy's hands at the back of his neck then and he closed his eyes tightly, letting out a quiet, wavering breath. They'd forced him to wear the collar from the get-go, to hide the unappealing scar that marred his throat and plenty of his clients—fuck, did he hate calling them that—hadn't hesitated in using it for the intended purpose. For humiliation, to enforce power over him despite the fact that he was already at their fucking mercy by their act of paying for his company.

The amount of times it had sent him deep into a dissociated state, trapped inside the memory of that warehouse, of the his father getting murdered before his eyes, of that metal cord slicing into his flesh as they attempted to strange him .... it was simply too many to count.

Tommy, however, seemed to hate it just as much as Zi Xin did and for that, he was grateful. When he was free of it, he couldn't have stopped the sigh of relief if he'd wanted to and any lingering tension melted out of him. Without the collar, he was as he remembered himself to be — someone who fought, who fucking refused to be bullied. Someone who always sought a way out by any means necessary. Sure, he'd been collared and shackled, but if he needed to gnaw off his own foot to free himself, then that was what he would do. A fox in a trap, dangerous and clever all the same.

The soft kisses at his bare shoulder elicited a shudder from Zi Xin and fuck, did a part of him just want to melt into it. He almost wanted to lean into the familiar and easy routine, to tilt his head, seeking Tommy's eager mouth — but no. That was not the plan, not tonight. The other man's words were a request, not necessarily a command, Zi Xin knew that by now, but ... it sparked irritation this time when normally, he would've been neutral about doing as Tommy asked. Tonight, Zi Xin was the predator he was destined to be and, as he straightened his shoulders, tilted his chin up, the teeth and claws he'd been forced to hide emerged.

       ❝No,❞ Zi Xin rasped, the word both gentle and coated with a strength and determination he hadn't felt in far too long. ❝I don't think so.❞ He moved slightly out of Tommy's reach and turned to face him, the confidence exuding from him contradictory to the instinctive terror that gripped his racing heart. While he thought he knew Tommy by now, Zi Xin had never openly defied him in this way. He didn't know for sure if it would completely extinguish any tenderness he was capable of and that did scare him, but ... he wasn't stupid enough to do this without something sharp on his person, just in case.

❝There is something I need from you — and refusal is a risk I'm not willing to take, so ... you might want to sit down.❞

 It had taken Tommy years—a decade, to be precise—to give in to his desire, his need. It hadn’t been a decision he’d made lightly, of course. He knew how risky it was, dangerous even, now that he’d become such a prominent figure. His opponents and enemies were nothing to scoff at, and they would no doubt use that sort of information against him the second they got wind of it. It was an easy career killer, if not worse. Not to mention the shame it could bring on his entire family, should it become public.

 He’d tried to distract himself, of course. More work, more alcohol, more women. Sometimes all of them at the same time. And while they left his body satisfied, it just wasn’t enough. It was like an itch he simply couldn’t quite reach. It was maddening. Frustrating.

 So he’d finally sought out what he really wanted. What he’d craved since the war, but had deprived himself of because that was back in the war, and this was here. It was out of necessity then, and has no place in London now. Of course, he’d researched his options carefully. Had considered everything from expensive high-end escort services to the whore standing at the next corner. But he knew he needed and wanted more than a quick fuck, and, while claiming to be discreet, he also knew that those services were a front to collect secrets from high-profile customers. Not a risk he was willing to take.

 In the end, he decided to go back to his roots—Small Heath, Birmingham. He knew that the nearby Chinatown offered anything and everything one could possibly want; for a price, of course.  But money hadn’t been an issue for years, and the ones offering the services were so far removed from the outside world, and even more so from politics, that Tommy would’ve been willing to pay them more than the most expensive service in back in London. Anonymity was guaranteed, and for those few hours once every few weeks, he allowed himself to let his walls down. To be who he still was, somewhere, deep down, and to desire what he knew hadn’t only been a necessity during the war, but a discovery about himself.

 There’d been a few he’d tried at first. Mostly because he’d simply been too paranoid to stick to just one of them. But then he’d been offered a guy named Zi Xin, and he hadn’t been able to change ever since. It wasn’t just the sex, it was the feelings Zi Xin evoked in him. Inexplicable, incomprehensible and utterly confusing, and yet absolutely addicting. Sometimes, there was no sex involved at all. Sometimes, Tommy simply sought out the companionship. Often silent, but much more meaningful than any conversation he’s had in the past few years. It brought him comfort in a way nothing else could since Grace’s death.

 Today, he’d finally managed to find some time to make his way back to Chinatown. It had been a few weeks again, and rough weeks at that. Between the financial crash, Mosley and the Billy Boys, he was in desperate need of some time to unwind. A need Zi Xin seemed keen to fulfil with a drink already in hand the moment Tommy walked through the door.

 “You know me too well,” he muttered as he took the glass, the corner of his lips almost curling up in a smile. He took a sip while circling the other, studying him as though it was the very first time. Then he came to a stop behind him, and downed the rest of the drink, before setting the glass back down. “Pour me another one.”

While Zi Xin was busy with his request, Tommy slowly undid the collar he’d come to not only hate, but despise; a collar that wasn’t only a means to hide the scar underneath, but a way to humiliate and remind Zi Xin of his place as well.

 Tossing it aside, Tommy leaned down and placed a series of kisses along Zi Xin’s exposed shoulder, a silent I’ve missed you. “We have the rest of the night. So pour yourself a drink as well.”

[huyaoxiaozi]

@alreadybrcken | PLOTTED STARTER.

       It had been a long four and a half years of hell. When Zi Xin had escaped the attempt on his life, he'd foolishly believed that the worst was over. Living on the streets, being on the run was certainly no walk in the park by any means — he'd done whatever it took to survive until he simply could no longer stand fearfully looking over his shoulder at every turn. He'd felt like he needed to get as far away as he possibly could and, Zi Xin had been exhausted, often starving, and desperate when he'd indentured himself to seek passage to England.

       It had been pitched to him as if all he would've had to do was work for it. Once he'd had a decent meal and some sleep, he'd been certain he could handle anything they wanted to throw at him. Zi Xin had always been smart, a fast learner, adaptive. However, once they'd arrived and he'd been taken over by those who owned his indenture, he realized quickly what a terrible mistake he'd made.

       They hadn't made him an escort right away, and for that he supposed he ought to be grateful, but ... it was difficult to feel any gratitude when almost every second he did spend as one was a nightmare. Almost. Zi Xin had learned how to charm, to manipulate, even to intimidate in order to make things anywhere near bearable. He'd learned how to find out personal details about his clients in order to succeed.

       After Tommy Shelby had started coming to see him, however, he could admit that it had taken him a little longer to do so. Simply because ... he seemed to make it all feel less like some detached transaction. Zi Xin could wholeheartedly admit that the way Tommy handled things had kindled some kind of enjoyment, maybe even a touch of desire in him.

       Unfortunately for Tommy's sake, finding out he was a politician was all the more reason to find a way to secure his agreement when Zi Xin sought his aid. There was always the chance he might've agreed without the need for blackmail, of course, but ... what was the point in taking that kind of risk? It would only waste more time here and frankly, he was done wasting his life away.

       So, when Tommy once again sought his company like Zi Xin had anticipated, he was prepared to do what he had to. He did feel reluctance, perhaps a twinge of anxiety if what he planned to do resulted in some kind of violence. He hoped not. Despite his terrible situation, Zi Xin did find that he liked Tommy, and ... a part of him wished they'd met under better circumstances. He hoped Tommy would forgive him someday, but he wasn't going to hold his breath.

       Zi Xin was already opening the bottle of Baijiu on the table, pouring the clear liquid into a glass when Tommy entered. ❝Already have a drink for you,❞ he rasped casually, his own accent quite thick on his tongue — but Tommy seemed to have gotten used to it by now. Wordlessly, Zi Xin extended the glass out for the other to take.

[huyaoxiaozi]

@feilien | PLOTTED STARTER.

       Zane's mind hadn't even fully processed where he was, what was happening — he'd barely managed to open his eyes, but a shot of adrenaline and unhinged terror shot through him all the same. His mind may have taken a moment to catch up, but his body remembered this. His hands tied and resting against a chair's wooden back, the echo of a large, abandoned building with barely any furniture, the smell of concrete and rusted iron.

       He could feel his throat closing, the pain it elicited, the way it became harder to breathe. He saw Matt in the same predicament as him, barely beginning to stir himself and another bolt of terror hit him. Now is not the time.

       His hands were moving before he'd made the conscious decision, testing the tightness, feeling the exact kind of knot it was tied in, then working to free himself. This had become muscle memory. After what had happened in that warehouse when he was seventeen, Zane had taught himself how to tie and untie various knots, practiced doing so behind his back so he could do it was fast as possible. So that he would never be too late ever again.

       That thought alone brought back the memory of his father, his pleas, his final moments alive, the sound he'd made when the knife punctured his stomach — now is not the fucking time. Move.

       Zane's hands were free within a few quick heartbeats and he was up and out of his chair, moving to free Matt's as well. ❝Matt, we need to move now. ❞ Faster, faster, the terror inside of him persisted and he knew his breathing was blatantly irregular and panicked sounding, but right now, he didn't care. He cast a glance around the room, seeking their belongings.

       ❝We do not have the time to fuck around with your stupid insistence on killing me right now — I'm grabbing our weapons and we are getting the fuck out of here. We're probably gonna have to kill some other people first, so you'll get the gotta kill someone out of your system for a few minutes, at least. Are you with me or not? ❞ Zane's voice was strained, tight, as if he were fighting to get the words out, but he didn't wait for an answer. He was already moving quickly, looking to find where the hell these assholes had stored their weapons. They had to be here somewhere. He hoped.

[huyaoxiaozi]

       A faint smile colored Zane's features — but it contained nothing but sadness, a desire for something that he could not reach. Not yet. ❝Mm, then it's too bad I won't let that happen.❞ If he was wrong about Matt, wrong about there still being something left inside of him that was more than this rage, this hate, then ... it would be him dying.

       It didn't fucking matter if all that was left of Matt was this hollow shell of a person, any softness having been burned out of him. It didn't even necessarily fucking matter if they never got the chance to be together again. Those were things he could live with, move on from. Matt would still be living and, no matter what, Zane would do what he could to help him if he ever sought it.

       Matt had managed to burrow his way into Zane's very soul, whether he liked it or not — and he would always have a permanent place there. As a friend, or a lover, or something else entirely that they may never have a name for. Zane could even settle for the enemies they were currently supposed to be, despite how much it hurt, how exhausting it was. At least he would know Matt was alive, at least he could see him, even if all there would be to see was his rage and desire to kill.

       Zane would not be able to live with himself if he was forced to kill Matt, to watch him die, knowing he was responsible. That simply was not an option and he would gladly die instead. And if that was where all of this would lead, then ... so be it. The survivor in him seethed at this conclusion, insisting that he do what he must to keep breathing, but ... that was simply a line Zane could not cross. He would not. He fucking refused.

       With another quiet sigh, Zane rose to his feet and grabbed his bag, slinging it over one shoulder, Matt's knives still held in his other hand. He strode forward a few paces, ensuring Matt's back was to him and that there would be a challenging amount of ground to cover to reach his weapons. He'd get there eventually, but Zane sure as hell wouldn't make it easy for him.

       He turned to look back at Matt, feeling the swell of pain and heartache that would no doubt ambush him once he was alone in his own apartment, certain that he hadn't been followed.

       ❝Take care of yourself, Matt,❞ Zane rasped, just loud enough for him to hear. And then, the sound of metal clanking on concrete followed before he made his escape, resisting the urge to look back.

 When Zi Xin approached his bag and started to rummage around in it, Long Zhi came to terms with his inevitable death. Completely convinced that the other was simply looking for the best knife to kill him with, an odd calm came over him. Perhaps even a sense of relief. It was finally over. All of this. Sure, he'd always hoped he'd die on his feet, with a blade in his hand, but what did death care in the end? Dead was dead. No more anger, no more pain. No more suffering. 

 But then... disappointment. No death, instead forced to live another day. Like always. Why was luck never on his damn side? 

 "Then we'll keep on doing this. Over and over again, until one of us finally dies." A promise. And one Long Zhi fully intended to keep. Even the soft, gentle touch did nothing to change his mind. If anything, it only served to harden his resolve. Because there was something deep, deep inside of him that felt something at the touch. And he hated it. He hated it with a vengeance. He wanted to take that part of him and strangle it until it died a slow, miserable death. 

 Fortunately, the touch didn't last long, and neither did that feeling inside of him.

 Scoffing at Zi Xin's words, he simply turned his attention towards his treasured knives. Once he got his hands on them, it was only a matter of a few minutes before he'd be free of these fucking restraints. "Run. Or we'll be doing this much sooner than you'd like."

[huyaoxiaozi]

fyi if we’re mutuals you have full consent to be as feral as you want in asks and dms

[huyaoxiaozi]

I think I'm technically not allowed to send something bc I'm heavily biased, but.. Who cares 😌

I love Zane with all of my heart okay. I love the background and the story and absolutely everything we've come up with together, and also what you've ultimately made out of him. He's absolutely like Matt's other half and it doesn't feel forced, or half baked just to make it fit the narrative. There's still so much we can and will flesh out as we write them more, but even now, he's already such a well-thought out/through OC and me and Matt just fucking love him kthxbye

@feilien | 1-800 How's My Portrayal?

LISTEN ... you can't give your opinion if you don't know the character and you know him intimately. You were there for his initial conception, his bad prototypes ( and wrong fc lmao ), the messy attempts, all of it. 😂 So I think you're more than qualified lmao.

BUT ANYWAY ... figuring out how to create Zane in the way I wanted and needed to took me a lot of time. As you know, I've made plenty of OCs before but they were never really mine. They were made to appease someone else — they were made for someone who just wanted fast and cheap dopamine hits without any time or space to make anything actually worth while. They were made for someone who, at the end of the day, didn't really care what I needed tbh.

Zane fits with Matt so, SO nicely, they definitely balance each other out and bring out the best in each other. All of it came so naturally, I didn't feel like I had to force anything or make him a certain way ... I just followed what felt right and comfortable, which is what I should've always been doing. AND it vibed so incredibly well with Matt that we couldn't manage to stop how fast their love and attraction for each other took over lmao. They ran the show and we were just like HOLY SHIT, DAMN OKAY 😂

Zane is the OC that I've always wanted to make and he wouldn't be here without your encouragement, your patience, understanding and support. It means the world to me that you ( and Matt ) love him so much when I seriously made this guy from the parts of my heart and soul like I've always wanted to do. 🥺

SO ... all of that rambling to say thank you for helping me heal this part of myself ... and thank you for loving this guy that came of that healing ❤️

[huyaoxiaozi]

1-800-how’s my portrayal?

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[huyaoxiaozi]

       Zane had always loved Matt's playful confidence. He'd simply offered a low laugh in response, a teasing scoff. ❝All I needed you to bring was yourself ... and your knives, of course.❞ His right hand had settled against Matt's waist whilst he tucked his left into his own sweatshirt pocket.

       His expression briefly shifted into vague confusion as he processed Matt's reaction. It hadn't occurred to him that the gift would actually be perceived as just a plain, singular glove. An amused grin tugged at Zane's lips that he tried to reign in somewhat, but ... he found Matt's attempt to let him down gently about something so silly incredibly endearing. He also couldn't help the giddy little flutter he still got whenever Matt called him babe. He tiled his head with a fond sigh and shook his head, brows quirking upward pointedly.

       ❝That's because it's a weapon, Matt,❞ Zane said on a breath of a laugh, the sound gentle and warm, as if inviting Matt in on the joke. ❝I guess that means I was a little too successful making it as sleek and unassuming as possible. Here, I'll show you, ❞ he reached out to carefully take the glove out of the box, turning it over and gesturing near the base of the palm, where it extended into the wrist.

       ❝There's a hidden slot right here, see it? You slide the hilt of a knife in until you hear it click into place — and you can store a couple extras in this part here. It should fit yours exactly, I ...❞ Zane hesitated briefly, his gaze slipping away almost sheepishly as he cleared his throat. ❝I ... measured them a while back, to be sure.❞ And maybe he'd measured Matt's dominant hand whilst he was fast asleep once to make sure it fit him snugly enough, but ...

❝Anyway. You brought your knives, try it out. There's more to it, but it's easier to demonstrate the rest.❞

 Sneaking away was always difficult, but as of late, Long Zhi seemed to have turned into an excellent liar. Reasons and scenarios that allowed him to slip away for a few hours, and sometimes a couple of days, came easily now and even Xiao Dan seemed incapable of seeing through them. There was, of course, the worry in the back of Long Zhi’s mind that his grandfather simply bided his time before showing his hand, watching and scheming his next move, but it was a thought he chose to ignore for the sake of enjoying what little time he could spend with Zane.

 Either way, he managed to gain a night of freedom by claiming he was surveilling someone, the lie easy and smooth. Just to be safe, he’d traversed the rooftop in random directions for a couple of hours, watching and observing the ground below him to make sure there was no one suspicious following him. Then, he finally made his way to their little hideout. Or, as he liked to think of it, his sanctuary.

 After walking into a quiet and seemingly empty apartment, he glanced around in confusion, then checked his phone with a sinking heart to see if Zane had cancelled. I’m waiting out back. A sigh of relief. Then he put his phone away and walked towards the glass sliding door. Just seeing his outline behind the glass was enough to make Long Zhi feel all giddy and excited, and those feelings only amplified when Zane pulled him into an embrace. “Of course, I am. I mean have you seen me?” he replied with a shrug and mischievous grin after they separated — although not fully. Never fully.

 Shoebox now in hand, Long Zhi stared at it for a moment, wondering what it could possibly be. “Well, that’s awkward. I didn’t bring you anything. Didn’t think you were talking about a gift when you said you had a surprise.” Despite his words, however, he didn’t hesitate to open the lid. He never got gifts, and he was far too curious to wait. Although once he did, he wasn’t entirely sure what to think, because he was staring at… a glove? Singular. One glove.

 “I, uh… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but.. I happen to have two hands, babe. I mean— It’s a very.. nice.. glove. Just. They usually come in pairs, I believe? You know.. For both hands?”

[huyaoxiaozi]

This has been a PSA.

[huyaoxiaozi]

"Sometimes... you have to take steps forward." Haru pauses, clearly lost in thought for a moment, before heaving a great sigh. "Even if they're not in the shoes you would have chosen."

@tamedgod | one little spark sentence meme.

       No one knew about what had happened to him, what he'd been forced to do, Zane had made sure of it — or, at least, he'd thought so. When the woman had approached him, asking for information about two missing people, a father and son, her seeking gaze told him that she already suspected that Zane was the missing son, finally found.

       It unraveled a stream of questions, possibilities, fears ... was Xiao Dan looking to ensure that Zane was dead and gone, that he would never come near his grandson again, unwilling to take any chances? Had the man discovered what he was planning, did he actually care that much to hire someone to find him? Or did this woman—Haru, she'd said her name was—simply pick his case by chance?

       He hadn't even expected anyone to file a report for either of them, but ... with a twinge of pain, he wondered if perhaps the family he had left still did care about them to some extent? Or maybe Xiao Dan had put them up to it with the intention of luring him back to them, a trap? Regardless, none of this was any of her business and all her persistence did was bring the pain back. Not to mention, Zane certainly didn't need anyone close to the law knowing he'd killed and buried four people.

       ❝Moving forward is the only choice I've had,❞ Zane rasped, opting to speak carefully, because avoiding her, hiding himself away behind his facade that came to him as easily as breathing now, clearly wasn't dissuading her. ❝What, exactly, are you hoping to find? ❞

[huyaoxiaozi]

...they are quite a pair, the GOD TAMER & the TAMED GOD.

carrd // credit

[huyaoxiaozi]

              i never notice till the day's gone by...

template.

[huyaoxiaozi]

I fear that I love you more than I'll ever be allowed to. but even after all this time, it's still you.

Min "Zane" Zi Xin 敏 姿 鑫 @huyaoxiaozi & Liu "Matt" Long Zhi 劉 龙之 ( carrd ) @feilien ( carrd ) fandomless crime-based original characters. various modern, historical and fantasy verses available. Written & created by Mars & J.

[huyaoxiaozi]

Sometimes the rats in my brain come together and start yelling “YEARNING” and in trying to appease them I ask “FOR WHAT” but they are too small so all they can say is “YEARNING” which is a very big word for such a tiny creature, even collectively