[Mirroring Xingchen's words in response to his demand is done in a mocking tone, naturally, but it's more amused than with any vitriol.]
Isn't it better I hold onto you, daozhang? Then you know what I am up to.
[In spite of these words and his actions so far, he suddenly lets go of Xingchen entirely, taking a step back. He waits for a moment, but then he snatches up his wrists again and pulls him forward all of a sudden.
Xingchen is a good fighter, well-trained, he doesn't doubt that he'll not be off-balance for long, if at all, at least physically.
However, he wraps his arms around Xingchen's waist tightly to keep him against himself. Now Xue Yang is the one leaning back against the wall, breathing a little faster than before, whether from the rash movement or from excitement.]
[Xue Yang's tone gets under Xingchen's skin. It infuriates him, how this man takes nothing seriously. It makes him clench his teeth so he won't just scream and lose any calm he's managed to hold onto.
And then, Xue Yang really does let him go.
Xingchen's eyebrows rise. He should move. He should leave. This is his chance to at least try to get out of this cage that is Xue Yang. A breath leaves him. Relief?
It doesn't matter, not when his momentary shock doesn't save him, for Xue Yang is yanking him around again and Xingchen thinks he feels his soul drop. That was his chance. Now he's back to being a plaything. Even when Xue Yang reverses their positions and puts himself in the vulnerable spot, Xingchen can't let himself feel any kind of hope. Those arms still cling to him, still imprison him. How did he let things go so wrong?
Xingchen begins to despair, his body falling a little more heavily against Xue Yang's, and his hands brace themselves on the wall on either side of Xue Yang's head. He'd been doing...maybe not great, but Xingchen has managed to survive each day. Somehow he's found something worth living for. But now, with Xue Yang right back in his space, all of that means nothing.
Why can't he just die instead? Dealing with Xue Yang is exhausting and the worst thing he's ever faced. He just wants to stop...being.
His fingers drag against the wall as his hands fall to Xue Yang's shoulders. Maybe he can manage to force himself out of Xue Yang's grasp. Maybe he'll actually try this time. But then one of his thumbs brushes over Xue Yang's neck.
...His neck. He's vulnerable.
Xingchen sucks in a breath and fits both his hands around that neck, thumbs pressing against Xue Yang's Adam's apple. He could do it. He could do it right now.]
You'd be better off dead!
[He chokes out a sob, his fingers squeezing tighter. He'll do it. He'll kill Xue Yang once and for all like he should have done all those years ago. Hasn't Xingchen wanted this? He'll escape this man's hold and finally be free. He'll have rid the world of a pest, a rabid dog, the worst the world has ever offered. He'd be a hero, right? He'd be protecting everyone here, everyone back home, A-Qing, too.
He could avenge Song Lan.
Xue Yang's throat is so clear against his thumbs.
...Would Song Lan want that? Would he ever want to see Xingchen again? Wei Wuxian said he does, but would he be the same? After being a killer? Just like Xue Yang. A killer.
He wasn't always holding Shuanghua when he killed Xue Yang's victims, but when he did... Death reverberating up the blade to settle into his palms. Just like the struggle he feels now, only so much more visceral. Xue Yang could die, deserves to die, but what would that make Xingchen?
He cries out and releases his hold, covering his mouth with one hand, horrified at himself.]
[Although Xue Yang tenses, there is no attempt at self-defence. His eyes are wide and focused on Xingchen's face, he lets out a breathless chuckle while he still can. It's not as if he wishes for death the way Xingchen does, but he's not fighting for life either, not when he gets to feel Xingchen's hands around his neck, not when he gets to see so much emotion on Xingchen's face.
He's only starting to feel faint when Xingchen releases him so suddenly and he ends up coughing, naturally, doubling over for the moment. Still, he stands back up quickly, pushing the hair back from his face and focusing entirely on Xingchen. His eyes are narrowed as he tries to understand, but he doesn't quite. His voice is a little uncertain when he speaks, perhaps concerned. Sounding younger than he is.]
[The coughing is so loud in his ears. Xingchen pushes himself away, clawing at Xue Yang's arms if he has to. He has to get away, at least from that immediate embrace, get away from what he's done and what he's failed to do.
How low he's sunk. How weak he's become. Xiao Xingchen, once the bright counterpart to the distant but noble Song Lan, respected and trusted, now unable to choke out the life from one single monster right in front of him. Xiao Xingchen, once so good and full of promise, now reduced to getting his hands bloody for nothing.
Did he ever have a chance? Was his fate always predestined to end in ruin? With every day and every action he takes, Xingchen thinks Baoshan Sanren was more and more right. Right about the world. Right about anyone who left her sanctuary. Xingchen just wanted to save people. Now, as he stumbles back a few paces, hands shaking and a familiar voice haunting him, it seems he can't even save himself.]
[His eyes hone in on Xingchen's shaking hands, his stance, the look on his face. He holds his own hands up, not that Xingchen can see, a gesture that might mean much of anything, but obviously means nothing until he says something.
He's not sure how to word it, that unfamiliar feeling as if his heart is dropping, the way his stomach clenches, how he feels hot and cold at the same time. He's felt fear before, but only very few times in his life and not enough to easily identify it. But he acts on instinct instead of rationale, as always, so luckily awareness isn't needed for him to do something. Say something.]
It's done, daozhang. I'm not doing anything else.
[His voice is, if possible, almost gentle. An attempt at reassurance.]
[He whispers the question, not really expecting an answer. What answer would he want to hear? The options, half-formed in his mind, frighten him, disgust him. Either he's not as strong as everyone thought he was or the goodness still left inside him is still willing to give someone so vile yet another chance. Xingchen gives too many chances. They keep coming back to hurt him and he never learns.
Why?
Why?!
Xingchen stumbles until his back hits the other wall of this alleyway. Another sob wracks him and his hands can't stop shaking, even as he covers his face with them. In the back of his mind, he knows if he can't control himself, he'll start to bleed against the blindfold. He knows, but that doesn't seem very important right now.]
[The way he stumbles, the faint hint of red on his blindfold, that expression and the sobs, it's setting Xue Yang on edge. Almost as if he can see the cut on Xingchen's throat and he feels helpless. What does he do?
He has to stop that despair. He doesn't want that again. He wants Xingchen living, breathing, warm, even if only the corpse would ever willingly let him near.
So what can he do? Is there anything to say?]
Don't worry about that, daozhang. I'm dead already.
[It takes some time to catch his breath and get a hold of himself. By the time he does, Xingchen can feel some blood tracking down his cheek. Which means there must be some blood on his hands at least, and definitely stains on the cloth now.
He barely hears Xue Yang speak again, but it does register eventually. It doesn't make sense. He can't mean it literally, but if it's a metaphor, he can't really understand why he feels that way, either. Instead, he allows himself to slide down to the ground.]
[Simple words, a simple statement, and the sentiment behind it lost for so many reasons, because he knows that it's not something Xingchen wants to be true. He knows that Xingchen doesn't know of years spent yearning, of cold nights by a coffin, and he also knows that if he did know, it would horrify rather than please him.
No less true, but useless words anyway.
Stepping forward, he crouches down in front of Xingchen and looks at him, feels his chest hurting and wonders what there is to do about it. He's not used to pain he can't ignore.]
I'm going now.
[That said he reaches into a pocket and gets a single piece of candy, which he puts down in front of Xingchen. After a moment, he thinks better of it and gives it a nudge, so it lightly touches Xingchen's knee. So he can't just ignore it.
Then he gets up, stares at him, holds his breath and leaves.]
[This is exhausting. Every moment dedicated to even thinking about Xue Yang leaves Xingchen drained. He can't spend a second in the other man's presence without wanting to take hours to recover his mental fortitude.
So, for now, he lets his bloodied hands fall into his lap as he just...leans against the wall. Even the little nudge against his knee gets no reaction. He sits and he breathes and he bleeds and finally, finally Xue Yang leaves him.]
...I wish you'd forget me.
[A whisper, one he knows Xue Yang won't here, whatever that means. After some time, he pats around for whatever Xue Yang left behind. Upon finding it, he feels the small thing, listens to the slightly crinkly wrapping, and his shoulders drop.
Candy.
He's sick of candy.
Xingchen continues to feel the shape of the little treat with no intention of actually eating it. And yet, instead of throwing it back to the ground, he slowly tucks it away inside his robes before pushing himself to his feet. It's time to...go back to helping where he can. He hopes he won't run into Xue Yang again.]
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no subject
[Mirroring Xingchen's words in response to his demand is done in a mocking tone, naturally, but it's more amused than with any vitriol.]
Isn't it better I hold onto you, daozhang? Then you know what I am up to.
[In spite of these words and his actions so far, he suddenly lets go of Xingchen entirely, taking a step back. He waits for a moment, but then he snatches up his wrists again and pulls him forward all of a sudden.
Xingchen is a good fighter, well-trained, he doesn't doubt that he'll not be off-balance for long, if at all, at least physically.
However, he wraps his arms around Xingchen's waist tightly to keep him against himself. Now Xue Yang is the one leaning back against the wall, breathing a little faster than before, whether from the rash movement or from excitement.]
Better like this?
cw: suicidal ideation, attempted asphyxiation
And then, Xue Yang really does let him go.
Xingchen's eyebrows rise. He should move. He should leave. This is his chance to at least try to get out of this cage that is Xue Yang. A breath leaves him. Relief?
It doesn't matter, not when his momentary shock doesn't save him, for Xue Yang is yanking him around again and Xingchen thinks he feels his soul drop. That was his chance. Now he's back to being a plaything. Even when Xue Yang reverses their positions and puts himself in the vulnerable spot, Xingchen can't let himself feel any kind of hope. Those arms still cling to him, still imprison him. How did he let things go so wrong?
Xingchen begins to despair, his body falling a little more heavily against Xue Yang's, and his hands brace themselves on the wall on either side of Xue Yang's head. He'd been doing...maybe not great, but Xingchen has managed to survive each day. Somehow he's found something worth living for. But now, with Xue Yang right back in his space, all of that means nothing.
Why can't he just die instead? Dealing with Xue Yang is exhausting and the worst thing he's ever faced. He just wants to stop...being.
His fingers drag against the wall as his hands fall to Xue Yang's shoulders. Maybe he can manage to force himself out of Xue Yang's grasp. Maybe he'll actually try this time. But then one of his thumbs brushes over Xue Yang's neck.
...His neck. He's vulnerable.
Xingchen sucks in a breath and fits both his hands around that neck, thumbs pressing against Xue Yang's Adam's apple. He could do it. He could do it right now.]
You'd be better off dead!
[He chokes out a sob, his fingers squeezing tighter. He'll do it. He'll kill Xue Yang once and for all like he should have done all those years ago. Hasn't Xingchen wanted this? He'll escape this man's hold and finally be free. He'll have rid the world of a pest, a rabid dog, the worst the world has ever offered. He'd be a hero, right? He'd be protecting everyone here, everyone back home, A-Qing, too.
He could avenge Song Lan.
Xue Yang's throat is so clear against his thumbs.
...Would Song Lan want that? Would he ever want to see Xingchen again? Wei Wuxian said he does, but would he be the same? After being a killer? Just like Xue Yang. A killer.
He wasn't always holding Shuanghua when he killed Xue Yang's victims, but when he did... Death reverberating up the blade to settle into his palms. Just like the struggle he feels now, only so much more visceral. Xue Yang could die, deserves to die, but what would that make Xingchen?
He cries out and releases his hold, covering his mouth with one hand, horrified at himself.]
no subject
He's only starting to feel faint when Xingchen releases him so suddenly and he ends up coughing, naturally, doubling over for the moment. Still, he stands back up quickly, pushing the hair back from his face and focusing entirely on Xingchen. His eyes are narrowed as he tries to understand, but he doesn't quite. His voice is a little uncertain when he speaks, perhaps concerned. Sounding younger than he is.]
Daozhang?
no subject
How low he's sunk. How weak he's become. Xiao Xingchen, once the bright counterpart to the distant but noble Song Lan, respected and trusted, now unable to choke out the life from one single monster right in front of him. Xiao Xingchen, once so good and full of promise, now reduced to getting his hands bloody for nothing.
Did he ever have a chance? Was his fate always predestined to end in ruin? With every day and every action he takes, Xingchen thinks Baoshan Sanren was more and more right. Right about the world. Right about anyone who left her sanctuary. Xingchen just wanted to save people. Now, as he stumbles back a few paces, hands shaking and a familiar voice haunting him, it seems he can't even save himself.]
Stop. Don't.
no subject
He's not sure how to word it, that unfamiliar feeling as if his heart is dropping, the way his stomach clenches, how he feels hot and cold at the same time. He's felt fear before, but only very few times in his life and not enough to easily identify it. But he acts on instinct instead of rationale, as always, so luckily awareness isn't needed for him to do something. Say something.]
It's done, daozhang. I'm not doing anything else.
[His voice is, if possible, almost gentle. An attempt at reassurance.]
no subject
[He whispers the question, not really expecting an answer. What answer would he want to hear? The options, half-formed in his mind, frighten him, disgust him. Either he's not as strong as everyone thought he was or the goodness still left inside him is still willing to give someone so vile yet another chance. Xingchen gives too many chances. They keep coming back to hurt him and he never learns.
Why?
Why?!
Xingchen stumbles until his back hits the other wall of this alleyway. Another sob wracks him and his hands can't stop shaking, even as he covers his face with them. In the back of his mind, he knows if he can't control himself, he'll start to bleed against the blindfold. He knows, but that doesn't seem very important right now.]
no subject
He has to stop that despair. He doesn't want that again. He wants Xingchen living, breathing, warm, even if only the corpse would ever willingly let him near.
So what can he do? Is there anything to say?]
Don't worry about that, daozhang. I'm dead already.
no subject
He barely hears Xue Yang speak again, but it does register eventually. It doesn't make sense. He can't mean it literally, but if it's a metaphor, he can't really understand why he feels that way, either. Instead, he allows himself to slide down to the ground.]
Yet you still haunt me.
no subject
[Simple words, a simple statement, and the sentiment behind it lost for so many reasons, because he knows that it's not something Xingchen wants to be true. He knows that Xingchen doesn't know of years spent yearning, of cold nights by a coffin, and he also knows that if he did know, it would horrify rather than please him.
No less true, but useless words anyway.
Stepping forward, he crouches down in front of Xingchen and looks at him, feels his chest hurting and wonders what there is to do about it. He's not used to pain he can't ignore.]
I'm going now.
[That said he reaches into a pocket and gets a single piece of candy, which he puts down in front of Xingchen. After a moment, he thinks better of it and gives it a nudge, so it lightly touches Xingchen's knee. So he can't just ignore it.
Then he gets up, stares at him, holds his breath and leaves.]
no subject
So, for now, he lets his bloodied hands fall into his lap as he just...leans against the wall. Even the little nudge against his knee gets no reaction. He sits and he breathes and he bleeds and finally, finally Xue Yang leaves him.]
...I wish you'd forget me.
[A whisper, one he knows Xue Yang won't here, whatever that means. After some time, he pats around for whatever Xue Yang left behind. Upon finding it, he feels the small thing, listens to the slightly crinkly wrapping, and his shoulders drop.
Candy.
He's sick of candy.
Xingchen continues to feel the shape of the little treat with no intention of actually eating it. And yet, instead of throwing it back to the ground, he slowly tucks it away inside his robes before pushing himself to his feet. It's time to...go back to helping where he can. He hopes he won't run into Xue Yang again.]