#imagine someone fighting dirty with a qing

[kachawo]

YilingWei Sect AU: Junior Disciple

Click here for the YilingWei Sect Master List

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Junior disciple Xiao Qing, courtesy Xinyi. She’s Xxc and Sl’s adopted daughter as well as Wei Wuxian’s niece.

Xiao Qing is actually born physically blind in this au, but it doesn’t hinder her as you’d think.

She was born in a village in Qishan jurisdiction and was subjected to human trafficking at a very young age. During the war between sects, she managed to escape and found herself in a town of Pingyang living off of goods she stole.

How would she do that when she’s blind? Well, the thing is— although she’s partially impaired, Xiao Qing was born a ghost medium.

Since being a medium allowed you to see and hear spirits, it essentially gave you slight access to the spiritual realm.

Xiao Qing can see things people can’t, and even if that couldn’t help her, there were a lot of ghosts who were willing to be her eyes as long as she gave them something in return.

Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan came across her when they were night-hunting, she warned them that the area they were going to was full of spirits. XXC took interest in her abilities and asked if she wanted to tag along with them, seeing as how stealing wasn’t a really nice lifestyle, she agreed.

The two cultivators had already met WWX as some point during their travels, and when they decided to visit his newly formed (still working on) sect, SL gently suggested that Xiao Qing might want to try cultivation.

At first she was hesitant, since it was hard fighting while you were blind. But with a lot of encouragement (and a very good teacher) she considered being a disciple to refine her training while XXC and SL kept traveling.

Xiao Qing is very good at sensing danger, whether it’s people or monsters. She has adapted very well to her surroundings and even have a group of ghosts that she can trust (she trained the ghosts as well)

Her main weapon is the pole-arm and she’s surprisingly very flexible with it. She can tell whether a ghost is lying to her or not and it has made her a very strong card in the sect.

Although she’s a junior disciple, her title among the sect is ‘Songbird’ which has garnered her a lot of respect. Plus, the fact that she fights like a warrior despite being blind.

Bonus:

Xue Yang and her have met in the street before, but she wouldn’t have known. One time they actually planned a heist on a bakeshop and succeeded. But after that they never met again until Wei sect.

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

The Reunion

Rewatching ep 50 of The Untamed and there’s something I need to get off my chest.

When Wei Wuxian realizes that Lan Wangji saved Wen Yuan (Sizhui) I can only imagine the gratitude he must have felt in that moment. Allow me to explain:

In Wei Wuxian’s previous life, his biggest sacrifices,the reason why so much of his life went to hell was in order to save what was important to him--the innocent who couldn’t protect themselves. For this he broke promises to his family, destroyed his relationship with his brother, destroyed his reputation, turned to crafty tricks, couldn’t see his friends or Lan Zhan, missed pivotal milestones in his dear sister’s life--all this for that purpose. Wei Wuxian bonds with the remaining dregs of the Wens, forming a brother-sister relationship with Wen Qing, resurrecting Wen Ning (in a manner of speaking), and keeping a special eye on the only child with them--Wen Yuan. The child becomes practically his son--Wei Wuxian dotes on Wen Yuan, tries to make him happy, tries to eek out something of a normal childhood for him, playing with him and taking him to town. 

In the end, the Wens give themselves up to try and save Wei Wuxian. He goes after them in a move of utter desperation, leaving behind Wen Yuan who doesn’t belong on the battlegrounds. And Wei Wuxian doesn’t make it back. All is lost.

Wei Wuxian wakes up sixteen years later, and none of the things he sacrificed for are still there, or preserved or at all survived. All those years of torture and suffering and loneliness, and he has nothing to show for it. It’s still worth it, but it must leave a hollow ache.

And he meets Wen Ning. Weng Ning who he thought was dead, but had instead been essentially imprisoned in his own body, forced to do some villain's dirty work. It’s great to see him again, but Wei Wuxian realizes the double edged sword he created with his goodwill. At this point, he has to wonder--would it have been better had Wen Ning been allowed to die a natural death instead of living as a weapon in the hands of whoever wields him? What if he’d never gotten involved? He will now protect Wen Ning with all the power he has, but he realizes that by turning Wen Ning into the ghost general, he’s placed a large burden on him. Wen Qing awaits in another world with the rest of the deceased Wen clan, and Wen Ning cannot join them.

As Wei Wuxian walks around the world in his second life, he bumps into all the trappings and memories of his childhood, all the had-beens and could-have-beens, learning the consequences of his actions to him and others. And what has he to show for it? Nothing. Everyone he sought to protect is dead or forever alone and at risk because of him. He has no legacy except as the Yiling Patriarch, who kills and manipulates corpses for fun. He sees the futures his contemporaries have carved out for themselves while he was absent--both while in the Burial Mounds and dead--and his hands are empty of anything but stuff--tricks and inventions. 

But there’s little time to dwell. Someone has taken hold of his inventions, his tricks, his amulet, and is using it to their own ends. Wei Wuxian is not one to dwell too much if he can help it, and jumps forward to solve the case with the one man who believes in him--of all poeple, Lan Wangji, who it seemed had no patience for him as a fellow student, yet became his friend, and later a witness to what he had built in the Burial Mounds. Lan Wangji who built the beginnings of a connection with Wen Yuan. 

The mystery is solved, the villain defeated. Wei Wuxian can move forward with Lan Wangji at his side, his tragic past laid to rest. All his efforts, all his sacrifices, and the best he can say for them is that they are finally neatly tied up where they can’t hurt people anymore. Wen Ning is ready to live whatever life a fierce corpse can pull together, and Wei Wuxian looks to a future that is haunted by the ghosts of the people he failed to save and a child that never grew up. All he had done, rendered to little more than damage he had to clean.

But Sizhui has been having a journey of self discovery. His long forgotten childhood memories stirred by the presence of the recently resurrected Wei Wuxian and the eerily familiar Wen Ning. The one he could ask all these questions to--Lan Wangji, his father and brother figure--is busy with said resurrected troublemaker solving a case. It takes time for him to ascerain what it is he’s forgotten, and he picks up the clues he needs as he goes along, with help from Wen Ning, who sees the truth. As soon as the ashes of Jin Guangyao’s last fight settle, he runs after Wei Wuxian to confirm.

And what is Wei Wuxian to do except be shocked? What else can he do except sweep Lan Sizhui into a hug and cry at everything he has lost and found? And when he realizes that it’s the love of his life who saved Sizhui--who remembered a small child left behind in Burial Mounds who would need looking after once Wei Wuxian couldn’t do it any longer--his heart must have been full. His sacrifices, his new bonds in the fragile existence of the Burial Mounds, his seemingly reckless severing of all connection, all respect, his life as one of the finest cultivators... It meant something. The little boy who would have died without anyone to notice had he chosen not to act was now a young man in his arms, thanking him for going to the trouble, for making the effort, for suffering so that he could live through childhood... And Wen Ning wasn’t alone anymore, he now had a family to protect, and the small defenseless child that Wei Wuxian had taken time to play puppets with was now a capable, trained, kind cultivator, ready to redeem his family name. 

In saving Sizhui, Lan Wangji didn’t just save the closest thing Wei Wuxian had to a son, he saved his legacy.

[feietouhuo]

“Thank you for taking care of General Hua and letting Pei Xiu-gege and i stay here.”she raises herself to her knees from her sitting position beside the god dining beside her to press a kiss to his cheek, the same as she would for Pei Xiu-gege or General Hua.

These heavens were so very vast and gilded—coming from the dusty desert sands between Banyue and Yong'an she didn't think she could bear it to be put up in one of those white and gold palaces of endless decadence—it was simply too much. She would go blind from all clean glitteriness of it all and live in constant fear of tracking mud across it. At least here, in the quiet opulence of the Xuan Zhen palace, her eyes could adjust to the low light as easily as they did to the desert nights, and though she still worried about dirtying anything, it wasn't such a prevailent fear amid the dark woods and rich hanging silks that remained open air to lush gardens more beautiful than anything she could have imagined gardens could be.

This palace, unlike so many of the others she's seen, felt more real, more grounded to the mortal realm. There were books and hot meals and medicine here—and it put her at ease knowing her still-healing General Hua was tucked safely away in the depths of this place that had not yet forgotten what it meant to be mortal.

Lowering herself back to a seated position, she beamed up at the man at the center of it all with a smile more radiant than the sun she was born under. “General Xuan Zhen is very kind.”

( -crescentbound )

the chopsticks stalled by his face when the kiss landed on his cheek. widened eyes regarded banyue before the steady cold seeped back into his expression. looking away, mu qing twisted the piece of duck around with his chopsticks. it’s only when her appraisal of him — rather, her appraisal of a heavenly official — filled the room that he set the utensil down.

he could respond to her in many ways. his initial thoughts came covered with sharp points. he’d never seen xie lian so mangled & bloody. viewing him at the foot of the gates of ascension, displayed for all to see, was blood-boiling. fury spread across his veins. it darkened his expression as storm clouds blacken the sky. lightning sparked by his hand. when he rushed over to lean xie lian’s body onto his, mu qing knew the anger got to him. heated him with blazes fueled by the mix of unidentifiable emotions. he knew because xie lian felt cold to the touch.

it was the only medicine to cure the nausea from the stench of death: telling himself nothing could make xie lian this way & saying it was rage rather than worry.

he thought of xie lian. it was xie lian who thought of banyue & pei xiu. who thanked others for mere coincidence? 

but when he looked at this child, other memories cushioned the others, softening their severity. of children caked in dirt & disease, with hands just big enough to hold a handful of cherries. of people who once called him gege. 

❝ at least someone recognizes it. but don’t go thanking others that quickly. everyone else is foolishly desperate enough to let it get to their heads. they’ll fight for any sort of favor. ❞ a child’s favor isn’t worth much, but her companion, pei xiu, was another story.

grunting, he took a sip from his tea. ❝ i’ll take care of him, but if he keeps causing problems by constantly leaving his bed & getting on my nerves, he’ll never recover. has he been this stubborn with you? don’t be too soft. want to go kick it out of him? ❞

almost familiar, playful words slipped out. words that reprimanded, yet offered kids some joy they could indulge in.

[snootch]

I’m having awful insomnia so, instead of working on the last chapter of the fic I haven’t updated in Weeks, I wrote this one-shot instead. Enjoy.

XueXiao general rating coffin house drabble.

Amidst the dark of the Coffin House, the familiar shuffling echoed through the bare room. By now, Xiao Xingchen was used to the restlessness of their dear house guest. The man had stayed longer than anyone had anticipated, likely including the man himself. After all, it seemed natural to have him around now and Xingchen could barely complain about the extra hands and the addition of the only working eyes among them. The nightly shuffling was a strange comfort, a reminder that he was still there, despite the ever present knowledge that their accommodations were painfully lacking.

The house was dirty. It was falling apart. The walls had weathered cracks and the ceiling was poorly patched together by inexperienced hands. The brutal winter air seeped in through countless holes in the construction, contributing to the overall sleeplessness among the strange family of three. It was normal in these times for the youngest, A-Qing, to find her bed beside Xiao Xingchen on the makeshift straw and blankets on the floor, nearest to the fireplace that was painfully cold tonight. The firewood had run out too early this season and they all found themselves suffering for it.

Although considerably less common, it too was normal for the other man to find his bed beside them. The self-designated ChengMei finally resigned to the cold and shimmied in beside them, carefully burrowing into the pile of tattered blankets with movements meant not to disturb the sleeping figures. Just as Xingchen never complained about the added company, he didn’t complain about the added warmth on such harsh nights. In a regular house,  no man would admit to welcoming another man into his bed, but in the Coffin House, no one uttered a word against it.

The shuffling fell silent and Chengmei’s form pressed against Xingchen’s comfortably, the curves of his body feeling just familiar against his own. The night ticked by slowly and the two strays he’d adopted dozed off around him. With a body on either side, the cold-driven ache and stiffness ebbed from his joints and he felt himself relax. Just like the one to his right, Xingchen was no stranger to sleepless nights and was left staring into the darkness as the harmonious breathing slowed against him.

A small smile twitched at his lips any time Chengmei or A-Qing adjusted in their sleep, nuzzling closer to him, letting limbs drape over him thoughtlessly. It was a rare occurence to find Chengmei so unguarded, so utterly unlike his waking self who so effortlessly played a free-spirited persona despite the obvious refrains in movement and speech. When an arm snaked across his chest, Xingchen couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to place his hand over Chengmei’s and loosely intertwine their fingers together.

Moments passed and heartbeats told the time as Xiao Xingchen slowly found himself realizing the cause for Chengmei’s guarded behavior. The tips of his fingers found the four knuckles of the man’s hand, snaking up only three soft fingers. Xingchen paused with a furrowed brow, holding his breath to listen for Chengmei’s, studying the rise and fall of his shoulders to be sure he was still asleep before moving his hand down to the fourth knuckle, feeling around the disfigured joint.

The face of a different man flashed in Xingchen’s mind. A man who’s cruelty defined him, who didn’t have a single caring bone in his body, who’d sooner rip Xingchen’s throat out with his own teeth than rest his head on his shoulder to sleep. And that was precisely the man who’d spent the past year helping Xingchen patch the roof of the house, go shopping for groceries, cook breakfast every morning, fix the holes in A-Qing’s robes, the man who’s head was rested on Xingchen’s shoulder to sleep.

A horrified frown battled with Xiao Xingchen’s face, trying to keep quiet while begging to cry out all at once. If finding sleep had been difficult until now, it would be impossible for the rest of the night. His mind raced, forcing him wide awake to reconcile with the realization, all while trapped under Xue Yang’s limbs. All he could do was recoil his hand, a futile attempt to limit the contact he had with the other man.

Why did Xue Yang stay? Why did he not kill the two blind fools as soon as he’d healed enough to walk? What reasoning could the deviant possibly have for settling into such a dull, domestic life with Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing? Xingchen wracked his brain for hours, searching for any reason that made sense, but Xue Yang himself had never made sense. The obvious answer was that Xingchen had, indeed, saved his life, but what would a life debt mean to someone like him?

The past year replayed in Xingchen’s mind, recalling all the subtle anecdotes and coded stories ‘Chengmei’ had told them about himself. He’d always regarded their dear house guest as somewhat childish, having a determined black-and-white sense of thinking. Every interaction with the other inhabitants of Yi City was handled as a transaction where the other person was judged harshly. Chengmei chattered to him freely, speaking either exceptionally high of sweet old ladies and generous store vendors or startlingly low of anyone he perceived to be taking advantage of Xingchen or A-Qing’s blindness.

Taking Xue Yang’s hand in his own again, Xingchen felt for the missing appendage, reassuring himself for at least the fifth time that he hadn’t imagined the deformity. The sleeping figure stirred slightly, his face pressing further into Xingchen’s neck with a string of inaudible sleep-talk. The hand on his chest gripped the front of his shirt for a moment, matching the tensing of muscles at his side. The train of thought slowed in Xingchen’s mind, reading the signs of distress stirring in the sleeping man.

What does someone like Xue Yang have nightmares about? With the skill and flippancy to kill whoever he liked, what could bring him fear in his sleep? Xingchen wondered if it had to do with whatever had brought him to be bloodied and half-dead in a ditch, but something in his gut told him that wasn’t quite it. After a few moments, Xue Yang’s body relaxed again and his breathing steadied out.

In the wee hours of the morning, sleep finally caught up to Xiao Xingchen. He had his own dreams, strange and disjointed with Xue Yang at the center of each. When morning came, he welcomed the daily chores as a distraction.

“Daozhang, you’re so quiet this morning.” The voice called out to him shortly after A-Qing had slipped away to wash up. “It’s making me curious.”

“Curious?” Xingchen responded at half attention, busying himself with washing rice for breakfast.

“You look deep in thought.” The figure drew up behind him, the weight of a chin appearing on his shoulder. “I’m curious what you’re thinking about.”

Xingchen’s hands slowed. He’d pondered the danger of confronting Xue Yang about his identity and come to no good answer.

“Only that it’s cold.” He replied after a long while. “No matter how many holes we patch, the house is still cold... Why have you never left for somewhere better?”

The man moved to stand behind him, the sound of chopping vegetables filling the space between their words.

“Where should I go that’s better?” He asked. “Nowhere else has you or A-Qing.”

“Are we better than a warm hearth?” Xingchen returned the question, moving the rice to the stove. “I don’t hold you to any debt. I don’t believe in such things.”

“Debt?” The voice paused, seeming to ponder the suggestion. “Can I not want to stay simply because I like you?”

Xingchen frowned slightly, finding himself at odds with the response. If the voice still belonged to Chengmei, he could accept it graciously, but knowing it belonged to Xue Yang turned silken words to acid. It was a tailored response, meant to soften Xiao Xingchen’s heart.

“Daozhang?” A hand reached out, laid across his own. “Did I do something wrong?”

Again, he was stricken by the childishness of it all. Xingchen had given up trying to guess the man’s age long ago, but moments like this made it hard to believe he was much older than fourteen.

“No. Of course not.” Xingchen replied, using his other hand to pat Xue Yang’s reassuringly.

The hand recoiled and a silence fell over the kitchen- even the cutting of vegetables had come to a stop. 

“I didn’t...” The words returned, unsure, after the long pause. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“Pardon?” Xingchen stopped what he was doing, surprised by the smallness of Xue Yang’s voice.

“When I said I liked you.” The sound of nervous fidgeting replaced the previous noise. “I made you uncomfortable. Sleeping next to you last night. Right?”

Despite his inability to actually see, Xingchen turned to face the other, unable to restrain his surprise. No matter what angle he looked at it, he could see no reason for Xue Yang to bring up such a topic. His tone sounded so genuine it chased out all feelings of unease that had accumulated over the night.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” He replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then...” He fell silent again, the nervous fidgeting the only tell that he hadn’t left the room. “Just say it directly.”

Wringing his hands together, Xingchen frowned again, casting his face downwards. If it came to it, he could beat the other man in a fight. A-Qing was still busy elsewhere, out of the line of fire, so if any time was ideal it was now.

“I asked you why you stayed...” He said carefully. “Let me ask again, why you, Xue Yang, stayed here with us...”

The fidgeting slowed and quieted, but it was still there as Xue Yang spoke.

“I have the same answer.” He replied. “I stayed because I like you.”

With an expression of irritation, Xingchen turned back to his task with breakfast. He expected the charade to be dropped with the confrontation, but Xue Yang seemed determined to keep it up.

“Xiao Xingchen.” The voice came a step closer this time. “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s the truth. I’ve met too many people to count, hundreds of different people, ranging from decent to downright villainous-”

Xingchen scoffed at the phrasing.

“-but never have I met someone so... Good.”

A hand fell atop his again, soft and hesitant.

“It was annoying at first. You show unwavering trust and kindness to people who don’t deserve it. You’d walk naked through the streets if it meant giving your robes to someone in need.” The hand curled around Xingchen’s, giving a small squeeze. “It would have been easy to take advantage of, you know... But...”

“But what?”

“But then I’d be taking the one good thing out of this world.” Xue Yang put his forehead to Xingchen’s shoulder, his voice shrinking against him. “I know it’s because you didn’t know who I was, but you’re the only person... You’re the only person...”

Flipping his hand up, Xingchen tangled their fingers together and turned to face the other man. It took most of his self control to bite back a laugh, amused to see how much Xue Yang was struggling to get through a single conversation about his feelings.

“...the only person that’s ever... done anything for me without expecting something in return...” It was obvious it wasn’t the original thought, but he managed to get it out finally.

“Is that all it takes to win your heart?” Xingchen asked, allowing himself a small, soft laugh.

“...Now that you know who I am... Do I have to leave?”

The camouflaged voice Xue Yang had used the past year to hide his identity had finally disappeared, leaving behind the youthful voice of a boy. The question sounded like that of a child, pleading in it’s search for a response. Xingchen frowned, trying to remember what Xue Yang looked like after all this time. Even though it’d been so long since he’d seen his face, he knew the man was not nearly as young as the words projected.

In the moment of silence, Xingchen recalled the first story ‘Chengmei’ had told them. The story about the child who lied to, tricked, and beaten needlessly. Taking Xue Yang’s other hand, Xingchen found the amputated joint, feeling over the odd curve of bones that hadn’t healed right and the strange formation of scarring. How old had Xue Yang been when he received this injury? At what age had he been forced to grow up?

“I won’t make you leave.” Xingchen replied finally, feeling a small twinge of guilt. “At least with you here I know you’re behaving.”

A burst of laughter filled the room, another startling reminder of who was standing in front of him. Before he had a chance to question his decision, though, the other man threw his arms around Xingchen, reeling him into a crushing embrace.

“I’ll behave!” Xue Yang laughed out. “Only for you! Anything for you!”

Even with the man’s explanation- his proclamation of the Daozhang’s goodness, Xiao Xingchen couldn’t begin to wrap his head around Xue Yang’s seemingly unconditional loyalty to him. There was a pit in his stomach telling him it was a ruse, some game to inflict the most damage possible. He could practically hear Song Lan’s voice in his head, begging him not to trust him, but the words were quickly drowned out by Xue Yang’s movements.

The tight embrace was finally released, only to be replaced by the feel of lips against his own. Xue Yang was pressing into a kiss, with one arm still wrapped around Xingchen’s shoulders, sternly anchoring them together, and the other hand cupped gently to Xingchen’s cheek. He stood, frozen, mind utterly devoid of thought, as Xue Yang pressed two, three, four, and five soft kisses to Xingchen’s lips before finally pulling back.

“Xiao Xingchen.”

His lips twitched, unsure of what shape to form with no words coming to mind.

“I lied about one thing.” Xue Yang moved his hands from Xingchen’s shoulders, taking up just one of his hands and bringing it to his lips. “When I said I liked you. I did mean it like that.”

Whenever the day does come that his path crossed again with Song Lan’s, Xiao Xingchen was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to him.

[besanii]

Any idea what might have happened if WWX didn't have time to hide Wen Yuan, or if Wen Yuan followed him back? Would someone have killed him? Would he have called out to JC or LXC (thinking he was Wangji)? Just imagine this screaming, fevered child running through this battle screaming for his Xian-gege. What happens to him? (Why didnt Jiang Cheng look for him? Did he try? LWJ found him, why didn't he?)

WHY ARE WE HURTING A-YUAN?????

Okay, so my knowledge of the overall geography of these places is pretty poor but the Burial Mounds is in Yiling, and Yiling is near, or maybe within Qishan borders? If WWX hid A-Yuan within the Burial Mounds, without WWX’s protection would he have been able to even make it out of the barrier himself? Not to mention it would probably be quite a big distance between the Burial Mounds and the Nightless City, let alone for a three-year-old with cute little legs like A-Yuan, so if WWX hid him immediately before going to the Nightless City, A-Yuan probably wouldn’t have made it in time for the battle at all.

By the time he gets there, WWX is dead (if we go by drama canon) and the battle is over. People are counting their dead, tending to their wounded. A group of them who are still able to fight are gathering themselves to storm the Burial Mounds and burn it to the ground, so LWJ flies off to defend it.

And on the way, he spots a tiny little figure wandering around on the wide open road, dirtied and crying, and stumbling around, exhausted. He realises it’s A-Yuan and swoops in grab him, and A-Yuan recognises his Rich-gege and cries. He tells him that everyone is gone. Granny, Uncle Four, Qing-yiyi, Ning-shushu. Xian-gege told him to hide, but he got scared and wanted to follow him, but Xian-gege was too fast and he couldn’t keep up. Where did Xian-gege go? Is he coming back now? Has Rich-gege seen him?

LWJ can’t find the words to tell him that WWX is dead, that he threw himself off a cliff out of heartbreak and despair, that he may never come back. None of them will. But he decides then and there that at the very least A-Yuan can live. So he lifts A-Yuan into his arms and flies off to the Burial Mounds. They take what they can, what hasn’t already been burned by WWX before he left, and just as the troops are coming to raid the place, they fly back to Gusu.

He hides him in his mother’s cottage at first, along with what they had salvaged, to hide from people’s prying eyes. But when A-Yuan develops a dangerously high fever, LWJ has no choice but to look for LXC’s help. And LXC doesn’t know who this child is, but he can guess from the way LWJ looks at him, like he’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, and says nothing.

When A-Yuan wakes up without his memories, LWJ doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.