deercountry | Hunting Under the Bone Moon [Closed]

It's almost normal.

They walk in silence through the woods, alert for any signs of danger. Xichen is straightbacked and his hand is on the hilt of Shuoyue and Jin Guangyao's poise is equally proper. They're being very polite.

They've always been very polite.

It feels so very much like their usual Night Hunts; so exactingly familiar and yet...

...And yet.

The silence between them not some comfortable, companionable thing as it used to be, but pregnant with things said and unsaid, things done and undone. Hope had been thoroughly dashed upon the rocky shores of reason, shattered to bits once more and Xichen didn't know if he had the strength to put the pieces back together again. It feels like he's unraveling fiber by fiber, another piece of something good and precious gone, scattered like so much debris. Maybe if he screamed he'd feel better (probably not though).

Still better than what awaited him back home.

He wishes Nie Huaisang and Shen Yuan were here. Their easy cheer would sand the sharp edges off this awkwardness between him and Jin Guangyao, but he is not due to partner with either of them respectively until the next day, and the day after that.

Xichen pauses, peering inside of a knothole to see if there's any sign of mushrooms. To his relief, there are some. The first sign of them in hours.

"A-Yao, do you have the bag...?"

Jin Guangyao does what he can not to allow his feelings about this change in their relationship to show on his face, because his feelings on the matter are irrelevant. He is the one who shattered the delicate thing that they had spent years nurturing, speaking around it rather than about it, allowing it ample space to grow and flower in the limited intimacy that they could claim for themselves. There had been no reason to dash it against the ground, except that in this place, with the expectations and constraints of the cultivation world so far away from them, it was too easy for Jin Guangyao to look at Lan Xichen's gentle, attentive eyes, his soft smile, and forget himself. To forget Qin Su.

He tries to tell himself that this is for the best, that what he is feeling now can't possibly be heartbreak, because if he is heartbroken over this self-inflicted loss, then what he has felt for Lan Xichen all this time has been love.

And so he moves methodically and mechanically through the woods at Lan Xichen's side, his hand on Hensheng's hilt and his eyes anywhere, anywhere but on his er-ge's, and he tries to let his instinct for this work guide him so that he does not have to think overly much about anything. Then--

"A-Yao, do you have the bag...?"

"Here." He comes to stand beside the old tree and holds out the silk pouch he'd procured specifically for holding the mushrooms on Never Mind's instructions. It would be more than sufficient for carrying the delicate fungi without damaging them--though they will need far more than what they have gathered so far.

Jin Guangyao watches Lan Xichen at his careful work of removing the mushrooms and placing them in the bag, eyes tracking the unhappiness in his serene features, and hates himself for having put it there. For a moment, the instinct to apologize, to take it all back, to plead for a return to how things used to be is right on the tip of his tongue, and maybe it shows in his eyes--but then his paleblood decides to betray him, and he starts glowing underneath his skin like some kind of sentient, incandescent lightbulb.

"Oh--" He holds up a hand to stare at himself, then looks around them, suddenly nervous. They've managed to get by without drawing the attention of beasts so far, but if he's lit up in the dark like this, how likely is that to remain the case?

Xichen is about to pluck another of the little fungi when a surprised 'oh' draws him from his task. He turns.

Oh.

Jin Guangyao is heartachingly beautiful with the way he glows under the moonlight, his eyes wide with surprise. His sworn brother looks like some ethereal creature emerging from the clouds, and Xichen cannot help but to stare in stunned silence.

(In a better world, they would laugh, and Xichen would take him by the hands, shelter him under his robes, until the light faded and they could get back to work.)

He takes off his outermost robe, a masterwork of deep greyish blue silk, intricately patterned with silver brocade. It's the sort of thing that looks simple on first glance, but closer inspection reveals its quality and elegance.

Xichen hands it to Jin Guangyao without second thought.

"Quickly," he urges. "Cover up as much as possible."

Edited 2022-11-13 20:55 (UTC)

The otherworldly glow emanating from his skin does not strike Jin Guangyao as particularly beautiful, but then again, he is the one who has to inhabit this body every day, and has had to look at himself in the mirror after bloodying these same slender, now-glowing hands enough times that his own feelings on the matter are complicated. He is frowning critically at his own skin when he notices Lan Xichen's eyes on him, and in that moment everything seems to stop for one held breath.

But then it is over before he can say anything, because Lan Xichen is offering out his outer robe. Jin Guangyao's eyes widen, and though he takes it, he is in the midst of protesting, "Er-ge, you don't need to--" when there comes a low, snuffling growl from behind a nearby ridge, and Jin Guangyao's words die in his throat.

He unsheathes Hensheng and turns to put his back to Lan Xichen out of pure instinct to protect his night hunting partner's flank, but even with Lan Xichen's robes around him, only so much can be done to mask the glow that emanates from his skin. "I need to hide, I'll give us away otherwise--" he hisses, eyes already searching desperately for some place he can shelter himself where his inexplicable incandescence won't betray Lan Xichen's location to the beast that prowls nearby.

Edited 2022-11-13 21:47 (UTC)

Shuoyue is drawn with equal swiftness as Xichen tucks the bag of mushrooms safely into the fold of his robes, and in one fluid motion his back is to Jin Guangyao's.

(Perhaps some part of him should examine more closely why he so readily puts his back to a man he still isn't completely sure tried to kill him, but he cannot bring himself to care. He is choosing to trust Jin Guangyao, as he has always chosen to trust Jin Guangyao, because the one time he chose otherwise resulted in him putting Shuoyue through his belly for something he may or may not have even done and it opened a chasm of grief in him so deep, death would have been a preferable outcome.)

His eyes scour the woods and then the ridgeline and... there! On a rocky precipice, there's a dark, narrow indent, easy enough for the two of them to squeeze into and it looks relatively deep.

He lightly taps on Jin Guangyao's forearm, and wordlessly points to the gap. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the silhouette of a creature slinking ever closer, drawn by Jin Guangyao's glow.

"Shuoyue," he whispers, and his intent is clear as the sword shifts to stepping height.

The beast casts a long shadow in the light of the moon, and the sharp, unforgiving angles of it make Jin Guangyao's stomach lurch. He is not easily moved to terror by ghosts or monsters or demons, because those threats are rarely as dangerous to him as the threats posed by his fellow cultivators, but in this space where he is still learning what his capabilities can do to protect him and so soon after his qi deviation--

He startles slightly at Lan Xichen's touch to his forearm, meets his eyes, then follows the line of his gaze and forefinger towards the chasm in the ridge. When Lan Xichen whispers only, "Shuoyue," and the sword hovers above the foliage and scrub grass, Jin Guangyao doesn't hesitate or allow himself to overthink it.

He steps up onto the blade and puts his arm around Lan Xichen's waist to stabilize himself, and then whispers, "Go..!"

Shuoyue soars over the tree line, just as the creature springs out of the bare foliage onto the spot they stood not even a second ago. Wind whips their hair, and Xichen leaves a trail of frost in his wake as they ascend to the narrow cave.

And it is indeed narrow; they have to go in single file, and Xichen is almost too broad-shouldered to squeeze through. Something rips, but he doesn't pay it much mind and further towards the back, the stone walls widen a bit (but not much). He and Jin Guangyao are cramped together as the beast seems to have climbed the near vertical ridge in record time and is snuffling about outside the mouth of the cave.

Xichen keeps his friend close, his body placed firmly between him and the beast, Shuoyue firmly in hand.

The cave is too tight a fit for the beast. First it pokes its deformed head in, mouth foaming and teeth gnashing angrily at its prey that is so close and yet so far. When it can't reach them that way, it scrabbles with its claws but to no avail. Xichen and Jin Guangyao are a good two meters out of reach.

And so begins the waiting game.

"A-Yao," he says, "I would rather avoid killing it."

Blood pollution and all that.

"How are your reserves...?"

The light that emanates from his paleblood under his skin is a blessing to them now, and Jin Guangyao holds out his hand ahead of them like a lantern to illuminate the narrow path deeper into the crevice. Even for his slighter, more slender frame, it is still a tight squeeze, and he refuses to put too much distance between himself and Lan Xichen just in case his friend requires his aid. When the tight stone walls no longer press quite so tightly around him, he turns around and reaches for Lan Xichen's arm, to pull him sharply back from those scrabbling claws and that hungry, snarling maw, with a worried exhalation of, "Xichen--!"

He can feel its hot, fetid breath on them even from here. Staring past Lan Xichen's shoulders at the beast's muzzle, his eyes wide and unblinking, it takes him a moment to realize that he's been asked a question, and he has to backtrack to find it.

"They are enough," he asserts, and hopes that his core won't make a liar out of him. Jin Guangyao drops his free hand to his pocket to feel for his talismans. "Tell me what you need me to do." He knows the steps to this dance, and is more than prepared to follow Lan Xichen's lead.

Jin Guangyao's frightened exclamation is met with a brief reassuring touch to his shoulder and he inclines his head to the mouth of the crevice where the creature is pacing irritably, occasionally trying to squeeze itself inside to no avail. They are out of reach from its scrabbling claws.

"We'll need to make a barrier to keep our scent and sound from reaching it. Then it is just a matter of staying out of sight and waiting until it loses interest."

He draws a number of charms from his satchel, flipping through them.

"I only have a couple for suppressing sound and scent - can A-Yao make up the difference?"

Already he has pulled out a little jar of cinnabar from his qiankun bag and unstoppered it with one hand, deftly applying some to his fingertips as a makeshift pen. "Yes," he says and withdraws a talisman, making a few swift but minor alterations to the script on the paper, before sending it hurtling swiftly towards the mouth of the crevice. It makes contact with the stone wall and the characters scrawled upon it glow a burnished golden colour as his spiritual energy activates their power; immediately, the sound of the beast's growling and scrabbling claws become muted, as though a heavy fabric curtain has been drawn between them and the predator.

"A few more," he murmurs and repeats the work diligently, hoping that this will be sufficient to eventually convince the thing hunting them that they have escaped. If not, if they remain cornered by this monster for longer than a few hours, well. ~~not to mix idioms but he'll burn that bridge to the ground once they get to it.~~

Xichen's talismans are fewer in number, but he's able to make up for the difference with his more developed core (not only from the fact he started younger, but also he now has over a decade's more worth of cultivation under his belt) and inject them with more power. Unfortunately this has the side effect of dropping the temperature inside the already frigid crevice (and Xichen very nearly swears at this because damn his blood).

But he is once more reminded of times before and his frustration turns to a swell of pride; he and Jin Guangyao had always worked well together, their abilities complementary and easily making up for each others' shortcomings. Jin Guangyao had always been versatile, able to swiftly adapt technique to any given situation and quick at thinking on his feet, and Xichen was a powerhouse with years of rigid discipline and practice.

It always makes him feel a sharp pang of fury that Jin Guangyao never got the training he deserved elsewise the cultivation world may have seen two unprecedented geniuses.

It isn't long until they are warded off from the creature and Xichen sees its pacing halt, its head swiveling to and fro as though trying to catch their scent. It keeps poking its head in, to make sure they're still there, the last thing giving them away is Jin Guangyao's pale glow.

"Under the robe," he urges. "It can still see us."

He needs no coaxing to shelter underneath the weight of Lan Xichen's outer robe, not only to shield his still-glowing blood from the beast's searching gaze, but to grant himself some measure of warmth from the cold. Because, not to put too fine a point on it, it is now fucking frigid in this crevice, and only one of the two cultivators sheltering here has coldblood to render them immune to the discomfort.

"This way," Jin Guangyao says and steps further back into the crevice, into a small alcove that breaks the beast's line of sight and provides them some additional modest cover. The space remains extremely small and cramped, however, which means it is impossible for them to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of close quarters. At least for a moment or two Jin Guangyao is too distracted by his own cold hands to bother acknowledging it; he shivers and chafes them together, blowing on his still-luminous fingers to put some heat back into them.

"Perhaps," he says softly, "we should try to send a message to Huaisang and Shen-di, to let them know why we are delayed. If our omnis will cooperate."

He's trying not to think about Jin Guangyao wrapped up in his outer robe to fend off the chill, or how his body is faintly glowing, or how warm he feels pressed up against him when they're wedged together in this crevice.

Xichen manages to get his hand between them, groping around in his robes for his omni. He sends a "brief" message to both Shen Yuan and Huaisang;

A-Yao and I will be delayed. Temporarily trapped in a cave waiting for a beast to lose interest.

Very frustrating! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

Hope you are both well ♡ ～('▽^人) and have had success on your Night Hunt. Apologies but we will likely miss dinner (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ though hopefully we will be back in time for breakfast. ╰(▔∀▔)╯

...And send. It's probably fine.

When he looks up from his handiwork to see Jin Guangyao shivering, Xichen looks suddenly contrite.

"I'm sorry, I did not expect my wards would cool the area quite so much."

And it's not like they could huddle for warmth. 1. Awkward and 2. Xichen wasn't exactly much warmer than the rocks they were wedged between.

"Let us hope it loses interest quickly so we can get back soon."

(It can be inferred by the sudden and determined interest that Jin Guangyao takes in the craggy ceiling of the crevice above them that he probably feels some kind of way about Lan Xichen's clumsy groping around between them in search of his omni. A real 'blessed ancestors give him strength' kind of moment, while he tries not to let the sound of his breath catching in his throat become too obvious.)

He can see the strange little emotes on the screen of Lan Xichen's omni and gives one eyebrow a discreet, 'really?' lift in response to them. But the expression softens immediately when Lan Xichen apologizes, and he shakes his head. "Er-ge has nothing to apologize for," he assures him; that's been a constant refrain of his lately, hasn't it? And whether they wish to huddle together or not, the crevice isn't giving them an alternative other than to be right up in each other's business; it's this, or risk being seen by the beast still grumbling and snuffling at the entrance to the cave.

A pause, and then, "Ah, maybe--" and he fetches out a warming talisman, smooths it against the stone wall beside them, and activates it with a hand seal. Immediately, the air around them loses some of its frigid bite, and while the talisman is far from powerful enough to make the temperature truly comfortable, it is now far easier to bear while they wait for the beast hunting them to lose interest.

...It also means that, with the issue of his need for warmth addressed, there is very little left to distract Jin Guangyao from how very close he and Lan Xichen are to each other, alone in this dark, close space, or how the light from his own glowing blood casts shadows across his jaw and cheekbones. He meets his eyes, then looks away quickly--then risks another glimpse of his face. It's going to be like this, apparently.

He is very pointedly keeping his eyes on the omni screen because every time he looks at Jin Guangyao (or worse, when their eyes meet), that blue hue creeps into his cheeks. In a kinder world, they could lean against each other, laugh about their silly little predicament, and Xichen could wrap Jin Guangyao in his arms rather than just his outer robe. Instead, they are wedged together stiff and awkward, eyes averted, Xichen trying not to think about how wonderfully warm Jin Guangyao is.

He's also trying not to shift too much; a protruding rock has dug into his side and he has to crane his neck to keep from bumping his head on the ceiling.

"Thank you, A-Yao. The talisman helps."

He is sincere in that. Though the cold doesn't bother him, the only time he's been actually warm in this place is when he's taken a nice, hot bath (and even that didn't last as long as it should).

Xichen chances another glance at Jin Guangyao, and immediately regrets it. Nope, still painfully lovely and radiant. Look away, Xichen. Be strong, Xichen.

Edited 2022-11-15 01:38 (UTC)

"I wish I could take it back," Jin Guangyao says quietly. Clearly, he isn't talking about the warming talisman.

He is doing an admirable job of addressing his words only to the pale blue of Lan Xichen's inner robes, keeping his eyes there rather than allowing them to lift and take in his friend's expression. Jin Guangyao twists his fingers together uncertainly in the sleeves of Lan Xichen's robe, then closes his eyes and breathes out, as if he has reached the end of some tether and must give himself some slack, if he is to be able to keep going.

"What I said in the courtyard," he goes on quietly, and finally lets himself look up into Lan Xichen's eyes, so that the tired, wretched longing for what they'd shared so easily before can be seen clearly. He shakes his head, murmurs, "I wish I could take it back, I wish--"

A frustrated snarl manages to reach them through the sound-proofing wards, and Jin Guangyao seizes hold of the front of Lan Xichen's robes, eyes squeezed shut, because fuck, he'd almost forgotten about that stupid monster, how could he have forgotten about it?

Xichen flinches when Jin Guangyao speaks. It was, after all, his own fault this wall had formed between them. If he had not been so bold, if he had not dared to hope against something he knew was hopeless, then Jin Guangyao would not have been compelled to draw that line in the first place.

He was a fool.

But he cannot ignore his friend's terror when the creature makes a furious sound (perhaps it has finally decided to give up and search elsewhere?) and he rests a hand on his back, an attempt to reassure him that all was well.

(It's fine, everything is fine, they will acclimate to this too.)

"It can't reach us here," he says, voice soft. "And A-Yao was right to push this one back. He must be loyal to Qin Su, even if -- "

No, even now he cannot say it. He shakes his head.

"This er-ge understands. As he said before, perhaps another life will be kinder to us. He will wait for that day."

Lan Xichen ought to know Jin Guangyao better than that. He ought to know how that 'even if' will stick in his heart like a fish hook, sharp and merciless from every possible awful word that could follow. Jin Guangyao is immediately rigid and inflexible as stone under Lan Xichen's hand. His eyes are open again and fixed on his friend's face, but there is no flush of colour to his cheeks now beyond what the iridescence of his paleblood lends his skin. If anything, that glow only emphasizes how ashen he's suddenly become.

"Even if," he repeats woodenly, and no, he won't be deterred. "Even if what, er-ge?"

Xichen's expression is pained. Why in the world would Jin Guangyao ask him to repeat such a horrible thing?

Did this version of him simply not know...? The version of him that Xichen knew had known about Qin Su before their marriage but after he'd gotten her pregnant. Could it be that it would be him rather than Madam Qin who reveals this to him?

"A-Yao, I'm sorry, I thought you knew --"

It's a struggle to keep his tone level because this horrible truth hangs above him. If he had known that Jin Guangyao was ignorant of the whole thing, he never would have opened his mouth.

"Qin Su was not concaved by Qin Cangye. Your father raped Madam Qin."

...And Jin Guangshan couldn't even keep track of the number of women he had raped to know that Jin Guangyao was married to his half-sister!

Edited 2022-11-16 21:14 (UTC)

Oh, no. Jin Guangyao is very aware of his and Qin Su's unfortunate familial connection (that he fathered a son on his own sister, however unintentionally), and the lack of immediate shock on his (abruptly bloodless) face ought to make this much clear. But he had hoped, desperately and apparently in vain, that Lan Xichen would remain ignorant of this horrible, disgusting, shameful secret for the rest of their lives. Yet here he is, breaking the news of Jin Guangyao's filthiest and most abominable sin to his face with such wretched, gentle sorrow in his eyes, and all Jin Guangyao can think is that he would rather die than endure this humiliation for a second longer than he already has.

So that's precisely what he decides to do.

Except the tight confines of the crevice makes his sudden, desperate grab for Hensheng's hilt a clumsy, wild thing, and he has less than a second to decide how best to succeed at killing himself.

(Complications: Even when he yanks the flexible sword from its position around his waist, he cannot straighten it without running the risk of injuring Lan Xichen, and so that rules out impaling himself through the heart. There isn't enough time to drag the sharpest edge of the blade across his own throat, either, because Lan Xichen would stop him long before he could lift Hensheng high enough to reach his neck. His left wrist, then. It will have to do.)

He wastes a burst of spiritual energy to grant himself the speed necessary to get just enough of Hensheng's blade free of its flexible scabbard in the span of time it would take another man to blink his eyes shut. Then he drops his left wrist to the sharp edge of it and rakes it open deeply on the steel, and the cut is so clean, the blade so sharp, that he doesn't even feel the pain of it at first. Instead he watches his own blood, incandescent and luminous, bloom across the surface of his skin and flow like a current across both silk and steel.

The look in his friend's eyes tells him once more he was entirely wrong about everything.

(A fool. He is such a fool. When will he catch on...?)

The flash of a blade is all he sees before he realizes just what his sworn brother intends.

"No!"

Lan Xichen hadn't been expecting this! When Jin Guangyao had revealed the truth before, he'd been resigned and exhausted not...

Not this.

He immediately seizes Jin Guangyao by both his wrists and squeezes the pressure point of his sword hand to get him to drop Hensheng. He then focuses his energy into the wound on his left to heal it, pale blood spilling over his fingers, soaking into his sleeve.

He is, for the first time, glad of the side-effects of his own strange blood. Ice forms over the wound, freezing the blood that comes out and slowing the flow from a gush to trickle.

"A-Yao," he pleads, "don't do this, I beg of you; don't!"

Jin Guangyao's entire left forearm is encased in ice now, putting tight pressure on his veins and trapping Xichen's hand around his wrist so he can work on closing the gash before Jin Guangyao bleeds out. He won't let his friend die again -- not again (please, never again, he cannot bear it).

Jin Guangyao's sword hand spasms reflexively in Lan Xichen's tight grip, and Hensheng topples free of his fingers to clatter uselessly to the ground. Already the spatter of of his incandescent blood on the stone walls around them is beginning to fade into a pearlescent white that would be beautiful under other circumstances. (It will occur to him later what a stupid waste of his blood this moment was. You know, back when he is in something approaching his right mind.)

Then he feels the frigid bite of ice against his self-inflicted injury, can feel the sudden burn of Lan Xichen's qi pouring across his meridians to undo what he has done, and he gives a full-bodied twist to try and free himself, but it is too late for that. The ice has encased his forearm too tightly and securely, and Lan Xichen's grip is like iron.

Still: "Stop--" he gasps raggedly, and that is when he realizes that he is crying, and rips his right hand free of Lan Xichen's so that he can cover his face. "Stop, let me go, I can't bear this--I can't bear you knowing this, I never wanted you to know--"

They are briefly locked in a struggle like some mockery of their longest song-and-dance with Xichen's hands gripping Jin Guangyao's wrists and it's like needles in his heart to deny his sworn brother a clean end.

(What right did he have to do so, when that is what his own heart yearned so desperately for...?)

"You know I can't do that," he implores, because he cannot let Jin Guangyao die again. Especially not for this. Not for the failings of Jin Guangshan that fell on the shoulders of his unwanted children.

"I already knew, A-Yao. Before coming here, you explained everything to me."

Lan Xichen pulls him close in a one-armed embrace, letting his energy flow into his wrist more slowly now that the bloodflow has grown sluggish with the pressure and the cold.

"There are no secrets left to protect me from. I thought..."

He holds him a little tighter as cold tears fall from his eyes, freezing on his cheeks. Even with the warming talismans, the air has become frigid, particles of ice floating by, glittering in the glow of Jin Guangyao's blood.

"I thought I had made that clear."

A thousand and one cruel, awful things leap to the tip of Jin Guangyao's tongue to spite Lan Xichen into letting him go, letting him die--a thousand and one confidences that Lan Xichen had given to him over the years of their friendship secure in the knowledge that, whatever else Jin Guangyao might be capable of, he would never turn those vulnerabilities back on Lan Xichen. Jin Guangyao would never wield Lan Xichen's anguish over his complicity in Lan Wangji's brutal punishment with the discipline whip like a knife against his er-ge's heart, no matter what he might do instead to the hundreds of pleading faces he consigned to a wretched death by Xue Chengmei's hand. But now there is one awful moment where he can feel the venom of his cruelty pushing its way up from his guts, making his lips curl, before he tastes the bite of it for himself, and Jin Guangyao's will to use it against the man shedding tears of ice into his hair withers in his chest.

The fight goes out of him like a snapped thread holding a puppet upright. Jin Guangyao slumps forward against Lan Xichen's chest, hot tears spilling down his cheeks, and muffles one wretched sob against his neck before the rest of his weeping is consigned to shuddering silence. He tries again to free his right hand from Lan Xichen's grip, but this time it is only so he can wrap it tightly around his back to clutch at him with trembling fingers. He can't speak for the guilt and shame that has built a home inside him: over what he has done, both in the past and in this very moment, trying to take his own life in front of Lan Xichen and forcing him to bear witness to it, contemplating ripping open the oldest and most tender of Lan Xichen's regrets for Jin Guangyao's own benefit. He just holds on and rides out the rest of his anguish until he can breathe again. He has no choice.

Xichen can't hold him by the wrist any more. The wound hasn't completely closed, but Jin Guangyao is no longer bleeding out and there is a thick layer of ice keeping him from reopening the wound. Later, Xichen will treat it properly, but now there are more pressing matters.

He had been careless with his words and with his knowledge of what was to come and had barely avoided a disaster. He had also promised to be honest with Jin Guangyao about what he knew, but...

...If it was going to be like this, then he really shouldn't say anything at all.

He holds his friend through his tears, wrapped in a robe stained with his pale blood, his own shaking hands now tracing soothing circles over his back.

Unbidden, the thought that rises in Xichen's head is that it is no wonder the Wall of Discipline has so many rules warning against the pitfalls of love. When had such a thing ever come without a mountain of suffering in tow...? Were he and Jin Guangyao simply destined to keep hurting each other by choice or by blunder?

Hunting Under the Bone Moon [Closed]

Xichen and Jin Guangyao

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cw: rape mention

cw: incest (discussed); blood, self-harm/suicide attempt

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