firebranding | (no subject)

[Meng Yao breathes out slowly, shaking. Slowly his fingers begin to curl again into Xichen’s robes, clinging, and shakes his head.] No, it’s alright. I’ve rarely heard you speak of what you truly thought of me and my situation before now that there’s been distance between my confession. It’s nice to hear you speak your mind. And...it’s not as though you’re wrong at all.

[Xichen’s next question has him falling quiet again, considering.]

It’s very different here. The sects have no place or power here. From what I’ve observed, none of the moonblessed can advance into any positions of actual power anyhow. [So it’s not like it’s something where only those with power and wealth could achieve it, it simply wasn’t an option to begin with. And he hadn’t had dream of becoming emperor either, so overthrowing the empress here wasn’t even on the table to begin with.]

Respect. A family. Love. Those are still the things I want. But where I’ve come from doesn’t matter much to anyone I’m finding. And... it’s mattering less to me, too. The circumstances of my birth, I mean.

I am... just tired, Xichen. I want peace and to live more or less quietly, as much as this sort of place allows. I reached too high and fell too hard. I don’t want to repeat it. I want to keep my goals smaller and within reach now.

Edited (Typos I notice like 8 hours later jfc) 2020-05-01 07:11 (UTC)

[ Xichen grows perfectly still as the first sentences wash over him. It's nice to hear you speak your mind. It's not as though you're wrong at all.

His eyes lid, to shield Meng Yao from the pain in them. From the disbelief. His mind...

When has that ever done anyone any good?

Then his he lets his hand go back to soothing along Meng Yao's back. His self doubts will help anything even less. Later. He will have enough time on his own to think those thoughts. He always does. ]

Those are not bad things to want. [ What he doesn't say: Meng Yao, Jin Guangyao, had those things. And squandered them. He lied to those who respected him, he killed family, he betrayed love.

That will not help.

What he doesn't say: were mine not enough? Are mine not enough?

That will not help, either, and it is not as though the answers need to be repeated again.

It is not about him, anyway. And it should not be. ]

I know you're tired, [ he murmurs instead. ] I know you're tired, Meng Yao. But it is not a mistake to want good things. Only to think that taking them will let you keep them. It is... accepting, and cherishing. [ Long breath in. Sometimes, that is not enough, either. Why does he ever think he has any advice to give? ]

Peace and leaving quietly seem good goals. And, perhaps, some of the other things will return to you.

[it had never been enough. Nothing he did had ever been enough, his father keeping all of it on the end of a stick he was to follow. By the time he’d come to his senses it had been too late and all he could think of was survive, survive, survive.

Now... He just wanted something. Something attainable. Something to call his. His name, he supposes, might be all he has now and that’s probably worth fighting for.

Must Xichen turn everything into a lecture, though? He feels an exasperated fondness, unable to conjure up the emotion to be truly annoyed. He knows, he knows, so why does Xichen insist on repeating these things to him? Perhaps it’s just part of the Lan way, like reciting their rules over and over. Like if he says it enough times, it’ll stick and stay.

Meng Yao leans back to look at him, eyes tracing over every line and pore. He reaches up with one hand to cup the side of his face, running his thumb lightly over the line of his cheekbone.]

And what of your goals, Xichen? What are they? [Would he even tell Meng Yao that?]

[ Xichen tilts his head into the touch, without hesitation, his eyes rising again to meet Meng Yao's. ]

Goals? [ The tiniest headshake. He doesn't dare to have anything as lofty as goals - something he can afford, here. With only two of his sect in this world. ]

I barely have hopes - to keep those I love safe. Maybe, once in a while, to bring them joy or even happiness.

[ Most days, he can't even remotely hope for that much. ]

Those are hopes still for others, not for yourself. If I’m allowed to have hopes and goals, why do you think you cannot? What makes me more worthy than you?

[He shakes his head.] If you want to make others happy, do something selfish for once. Think of something for yourself, not for others. It doesn’t have to be large or long-term. It could be as simple as buying the most expensive tea they have simply because you want to try it.

But it should still be something.

[ Xichen can't hide the flinch, small as it is, not when they are this close. His lips press together and after a moment, he forces a breath in. Then another. His voice, when he speaks, is barely audible. ]

Nothing good ever happens when I am selfish. In fact, the times I have been, things have gotten much worse. Why would I want to do that to - to anyone?

[ He's actually asking, here, even though he knows Meng Yao is one of the people least likely to give him an answer which will work for him.

It's not only his own selfishness that he thinks brings disaster, either. It wasn't a lecture just now, only honesty. Don't try to take, but accept and cherish what is given.

Ah well. ]

I don't need the best tea. I've always had the best of - so much, while others have had so little. Wanting, and especially wanting more. It feels wrong.

Because the fault was mine, not yours’. You should be blaming me, not yourself. And here...

[He takes a breath himself and looks around the room, but ‘here’ means ‘this world’ not just the room itself, and he imagines the sprawling city outside these four walls and all the strange new wonders it holds. Xichen should be out there with it, seeing all the delights firsthand.

He breathes out slowly and looks to Xichen, thinking of just why Wangji asked him to do this again.]

It’s not wrong to want things. Didn’t you just tell me that yourself? Do you think your advice is actually so terrible that you can’t follow it yourself? How am I supposed to follow it if you don’t believe it yourself? [Meng Yao shakes his head.]

Xichen. I will ask nothing else from you if you could do but one thing: Tell Hanguang-jun that you want something. Something that he can provide for you—something you want to eat, or something you want to see. It doesn’t matter how big or how small.

I think...it will make him happy to return the favor, however small, for so much you’ve done for him. [And it’s a start, at least.]

You’re allowed to want things.

It's not wrong to want things. The advice makes sense for you, but it is different for me. [ Quiet, almost hollow. ] I've had everything all my life, Meng Yao. I've had people who adored me, I've had respect, and kindness, and family, and love. I have had an easy life, and yet I wanted more - and even when the actions were yours, the choices were still mine?

It is different from you because all your life you have been told you shouldn't want, that you must be satisfied with scraps, that you don't deserve more. I've always believed it wrong, but - I didn't make it real enough. It's different.

[ He forces himself to breathe again, then his eyes dart in the direction of Wangji's room, then down. ]

It...

My choices made it possible for the one person he wants to be taken away from him. I did not even stand by his side when he tried to protect him - how could I have face to ask anything of him?

How could i have heart to ask anything of him?

[ He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to consider, and his arms tighten, drawing Meng Yao a little closer. He's not... he's not trying to cause pain. He's not. ]

I'll try.

I didn’t leave you with very much choice. [And if you are not prepared to follow the advice you give, you shouldn’t give it. That’s what he wants to say. The words stick in his mouth, uncertainty staying his tongue, unwilling to be that cruel to him. Would the words help or hurt? Meng Yao wasn’t entirely sure and he didn’t want to take the risk.

Xichen’s right, at least, that he didn’t make it real enough. He’d been a quiet supporter of Meng Yao’s achievements and his praise was hard won and felt good to gain, but perhaps if he’d been louder to more people...

Well.] Maybe there are lessons in this that both of us can learn from. [There’s no point in trying to look back.] But we can only go forward. You won’t be able to help anyone if you let yourself stagnate. [His tone is gentle though and he shifts to fit a little more comfortably on Xichen’s lap, allowing himself to be pulled closer. He tucks his head into the crook of Xichen’s neck and closes his eyes, breathing him in.

He’ll try, though, and that’s all Meng Yao can ask. Perhaps he’ll be pleasantly surprised. Perhaps Meng Yao should have set a deadline on that, because he also has no doubts Xichen might put it off as long as possible, butt he suggestion is out there. It’ll be something on his mind, that maybe he should ask, whenever he sees Wangji now and eventually it might nag at him too much and force him to get it over with.

As Xichen had pointed out once before, the greatest weapon Meng Yao had did not lie in cultivation or the sword, or anything like that, but in his words. Only now, he was truly trying to use it for good.

He tilts his head up slightly to boldly press a soft kiss to Xichen’s jaw, but the gesture isn’t meant to be romantic or sexual or anything like that—it’s simply one of comfort, and a bit of apology before he changes the subject slightly.]

Tell me of something you’ve done here, Xichen. In this world. Or someone you’ve met here.

[ Xichen just makes a small noise. There was always a choice. He could have listened to da ge and let the newly minted Jin Guangyao 'ware for himself. He could have stood by Wangji's side, rather than simply support him quietly and watch from the sidelines. He could have done a lot of things.

He hadn't.

It takes a moment for him to speak again, once more very quietly. Calmly, almost, though far from the serenity for which he was known for so long, though the small kiss lets some of the tension drain from his shoulders and his hold turn even gentler. ]

You know... Xichen-xiong. The me from the other world. After the Guanyin temple, he went into seclusion. He has been in it for longer than I've been here. But this place... I can't do that. But I...

[ I wish. ]

Is it stagnation when I don't know which way 'forward' is, anymore?

[ Soft breath out. ]

I have done many things, though with the recent developments, I'm not sure how much difference they have made. And I have met many people. [ If he can't be in seclusion, he is not going to pretend to be. ] From our world, and the one similar to ours, and from entirely different worlds, too. Any... wish which sort you want to hear about?

How will you know if you don’t start taking a few steps first?

[He rests a moment before leaning out of Xichen’s grasp momentarily to grab their cup of tea, pressing one into Xichen’s hands. The tea’s cooled, but thankfully not to a point where it’s undrinkable. This is also far from the formal, proper way to drink, but at this point what did it matter? They shouldn’t be cuddled up together like this anyhow. If Meng Yao wasn’t sure that Wangji would barricade himself in his room for the entire duration of the visit (and possibly into the next day, just to make sure), he might’ve been concerned about being caught.]

Someone from a different world. [He reaches out to smooth down Xichen’s robes at his chest and neck, soothing.]

I just want you to talk about something nice. This isn’t an interrogation, Xichen. I just wanted to shift the conversation to kinder things.

[ There are two more residents of the house, but one of them is even less likely to leave his room, and Xichen is rather certain that Sizhui is out and might not be back soon. So, yes, he welcomes the weight of Meng Yao against him, the soothing flow of moonlacing, and the cup of cooling tea. ]

There was... a time, months before you came to this world, when some people were... controlled. At first, they would be spelled as dolls, and go out at night for moonlacing, or so I was told. Later, when it was found out, there was a fight, and some of those affected - they would pick someone and... consider them a master.

One of them started following me, and it - I brought him home. He is young, you see, and I wanted to know who could take him and keep him safe. It was interesting, until everyone was snapped out of that state. I could not reward him with much in terms of smiles, but I did do my best.

[ We're talking smiles, not making out, Meng Yao, down. ]

Later, we talked again. He is a sweet young man with a big heart. [ And complications like an adjacent demon, but. Details. ] I have been teaching him some foundations of sword fighting.

[Hey er ge what’s this nice young man’s name, meng yao just wants to talk—

No, he’s not the least bit jealous or insecure about some random kid. If he got jealous and insecure over every person Xichen was kind to, he’d never be able to do anything and his list of deaths would be miles longer than it already was.]

You always seem happiest when you’re teaching someone. [Dolls, though... He frowns a little, sipping at his tea as he thinks.]

It seems something strange is always happening here. I don’t think an entire month passes without something blowing up—sometimes literally.

[ He would, except that he'd be worried about you then, Meng Yao, between the nice young man's demon, and the nice young man's three boyfriends, two of who are heavenly officials and the other a calamity level ghost... with close to a millennium of experience.

So maybe not...

Besides, Xichen is here with him now. Isn't that what matters?

Xichen gives a soft huff at the comment, but it's not a complaint or argument, not with the smile softening his features.

Then his expression turns pensive. ]

Mm. Aside from the month before when you showed up, I suppose so. The dolls when I first showed up, then the month after we only got snowed in for a day or two, and then helped to a resort village which was rather pleasant. And the rest, you know yourself. [ Xichen's hand shifts so his fingers trace where a wing had grown on Meng Yao's back. ]

[Meng Yao knows better than to think Xichen’s mood is all his doing, but it still feels good to see every trace of a smile on his lips like that.

The trace of Xichen’s fingers makes him shiver and squirm a little, a soft huff in answer.]

Ah, so it’s my fault. [He doesn’t say this accusingly, but in a joking resignation.] I came and with it came the explosions. [Figures. Remembering the wing also made him remember just what he’d done and that familiar uncomfortable knowledge of acting like his father makes the next squirm less about the pleasure of Xichen’s hand on him and more about the uncomfortable loss of control he’d suffered.

He falls quiet for a moment then, burying his face against Xichen’s neck once more and taking a moment to breathe again.]

Hopefully it’s just a string of bad luck. Dealing with the moons each month is bad enough. [Meng Yao hesitates a moment before adding.] Have you...been dealing well with the moons? [He pulls back a little to look up at him with concern. He hasn’t noticed any crystal growths, but it’s not as though he’s seen all of Xichen’s body so he can’t know for sure.]

[ One gentle, long finger pokes at the side of Meng Yao's ribs. ]

How can it be your fault when it started before you even showed up, hmm?

[ But then those fingers return to carding through Meng Yao's hair, soothing. ]

The moons haven't been unkind. They are a good reason to focus yet more on self-regulation. [ His eyes are steady on the younger man as he returns the look. ] And yourself?

[Meng Yao’s body jerks at the poke and startled laughter bubbles out before he can stop it. He shoots Xichen an accusing glare, but there’s a slight smile in the look—and he’s definitely not playing up a sulk about it for a few seconds after until Xichen returns to petting his hair.

He listens attentively though, nodding along. He’s glad, truly, because the last thing Xichen needs on top of everything else is for the moons to cause him further difficulties. When the question is turned back on him, he isn’t quick enough to stop his face from turning red and his eyes shift away in an expression of shame.]

It’s— truthfully, it isn’t... terrible. [Not usually, anyhow. Cordis itself tended to pass by more or less alright. But the triple moon...] It’s simply... embarrassing, I suppose. Cordis can be a bit... difficult. My inhibitions are nearly gone and I have a hard time controlling myself. [He shakes his head, because it’s not even a loss of control in an awful way, exactly] I’m not violent or aggressive, but... the—affection that I crave can become a bit overwhelming.

[It’s embarrassing, but he’s trying not to hide it all from Xichen, despite the way his cheeks still burn red] I don’t always feel completely in control of myself and it’s a bit... frightening. The loss of control, but also... Liking... it. [He speaks slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, trying to make it make sense, not only to Xichen but to himself. He looks ashamed again] I don’t hate it as much as I feel I should.

Edited 2020-05-22 23:56 (UTC)

[ The corners of Xichen's mouth tug up slightly at the sulk. It's good to hear the laugh, after all, surprised out of him and unfeigned.

Then he tilts his head and listens attentively, and his breath comes out with a soft, soft sigh. ]

Of course you do not hate it, especially if there is someone to keep you safe and if you still keep people safe. Trying to control everything, including yourself, has many reasons, and I know I say that as leader of the Sect that is... focused on self-regulation.

I think, and I might be wrong, yet I think what you seek is not self-regulation, but freedom. One thing that not even being a chief cultivator could give you.

Loss of control, when it is safe, is a form of freedom. Especially when you have been holing on for so long.

It will feel better when it is not forced upon you, but you choose to surrender that control. When you are ready.

[ Beat.

And then the corners of his mouth tug up once more. ]

Although 'better' might be quite different from 'easier.'

I...

[He begins, then hesitates. It’s not something he talks about with—anyone. Ever, really. It’s not about trusting Xichen or not, it’s not about trusting himself. It’s about opening old wounds once more, ones that don’t necessarily need to be and ones he doesn’t like acknowledging in the first place.

After a moment he decides he’s not quite ready to bring those fears up yet—losing control had only happened once or twice so far. It wasn’t likely to become a habit. Probably. Yet.]

I suppose there if a lot more freedom to be found here, in a lot of ways. [He shifts a little and relaxes more, all but melting in Xichen’s lap.] It’s— It’s nice, but still... terrifying. There are few I trust here, and even fewer I’d trust with myself in such a state. Not that that seems to bother me much under Cordis. [This is said with an almost comical exasperation too]

But, in those moments... My mind goes blank and empty and it’s... Nice to just not think, for once.

Ah— [Meng Yao pauses and his face slowly begins to color red once more, his laughter a little nervous and high.] ...This feels like it should be inappropriate to talk about in the first place. This place has been getting to us all in one way or another... [he’s being MODERNIZED. The horror.]

While the path to it is ... something I would be cautious discussing in public, we are in private enough that speaking of it is not something to be ... too complicated about. Not between two adults, at least.

The peace, even if it is brief, is something important to remember that you can have. Perhaps there are other ways to achieve it, too. For now... when it happens, cherish it. Remember that the blankness, the silence, that is also you. This place has allowed you to discover it, and it is not a bad thing.

And there are often many paths to the same destination. If this path worries you, we can seek out another.

Or... you can, if you would rather do it on your own.

Just know that if I can help, [ and he does include mental and emotional capacity, not just physical; and includes Meng Yao's willingness to be helped by him, as well, ] I will.

It’s still a little embarrassing, Xichen. [You don’t just talk about these things! Even in private! You repress it until you explode or die from a heart attack at the age of 32, it’s FINE.

But he keeps talking and he softens again, looking embarrassed still, but... Sincere, at least. His face open and honest despite the embarrassment—or maybe because of it.] I... don’t want to do it alone. I want your help, still, but it’s...

[Complicated? Hard? He reaches out to touch at the side of Xichen’s face, his fingertips warmed from the cup of tea] I feel like I’d just be dirtying you somehow. Or that you won’t be able to give me the things I want, and that’ll make you feel worse.

But... More and more lately, I’m also finding that... Just being around you like this calms my mind immensely. I can breathe, I can... Forget, for a few moments, that the world isn’t just you and I and the tea we share between us. It’s not quite the same, but it’s comforting and freeing similarly.

[He goes quiet a moment and reiterates softly] I don’t want to do this on my own. [Not anymore, at least, tentatively reaching out for that help now, instead of withdrawing and wrapping himself up further under layers upon layers of lies and schemes.]

A little embarrassing. [ Soft acknowledgment of the first words. ] But if it leads to better understanding and less problems, it is more than worth it.

And no - I may not be holding your hand ever step of the way, but I would not see you struggle to find a path across the field of thorns alone. For this peace alone, if nothing else.

[ Xichen breathes out. His arms tighten, a fraction. ]

I could not say that failing to give you what you want does not or will not make me feel worse. But - there is peace in understanding and forgiveness, too, if you would grant them. We can...

Lean on each other, a little

And as long as this place does not tear me away, you will have at least me, to face the chaos that threatens. Or the habits, or the doubts, or the questions in the night.

[He had to make do with what he had, what Xichen was offering. Xichen was terrible at saying ‘no’ and Meng Yao wasn’t sure he was the right person to help Xichen set boundaries himself, or the right person to say no for him.

He takes a breath. It’s not a matter of if he can forgive—he has nothing to forgive. Huaisang, for killing him? He can’t even be angry about it anymore. He can’t and won’t forgive him for using Xichen, but what can he do about it here?

‘We can lean on each other,’ but could they? Oh, Meng Yao knew he could lean on Xichen anytime. And he could tell Xichen a million times that he could lean on him too, but would he?] And you have me. [He says it softly, just to make sure it is said.] For what little that might mean. If not me, you have Hanguang-jun and the other friends you’ve made here.

You do not mean little, Meng Yao. You mean, so, so much.

[ Forgive Xichen, obviously. For what he did, for what he failed to do...

Also, does he have you, Meng Yao? How soon will you choose a different goal and he's just someone to keep most parts of yourself away from... again?

How do you know?

And how should Xichen? ]

You do know that even when I choose others - like Wangji - at times, that does not mean that I am or will be abandoning you, do you not?

[ Because there will be times when he chooses others. ]

It is not choosing against you when I do so.

Will you at least try to remember that, for me?

If you are not certain what something means, you can ask me.

Ah—

[He closes his eyes briefly, brow slightly furrowed. The words coil around his heart and he locks them there, basking in the warmth of them.

Then Xichen keeps talking and Meng Yao opens his eyes to peer up at him, expression turning a bit confused. What had brought that on? Granted, it was words he probably needed to hear, a conversation they needed to have. He didn’t consider himself a particularly possessive person, but he... He has a knee-jerk initial thought of scoffing at that. what old it be, besides abandonment?

But, ah— that reaction is precisely why he needed to hear it, isn’t it? He leans back a little to reach up and cup the side of Xichen’s face again, eyes searching. Even he’s not entirely sure what he’s trying to find, but something he sees seems to satisfy him.]

...I will try to remember, Xichen. I... I know that it’s difficult for me to not search for insult in perceived slights, imagined or not. I’ve grown so used to finding them that I’ll assume them where there is none. My mind just... [He trails off, trying to figure out a way to explain and describe that would make sense.

If he’s ever hoping to really see change, in both of them, and keep moving forward and rebuilding that bridge, to use the metaphor Xichen was so fond of using, he knows that talking and honesty between them was key. But for someone like him, whose use of words was a complicated weaving, almost never direct, relying on other peoples’ minds to fill in the gaps— it was hard. It was hard to admit honest things even to himself. His hand drops from Xichen’s face to rest against his chest, curling slightly into his robes once more, the texture of the fabric between his fingers giving him focus and grounding him.]

There were many times in my childhood I’d had kindness used as a weapon against me. It’s difficult for me to not immediately jump to the worst conclusions and read ill-intent when there are none. The hurt runs too deep to simply cut the poison out of my mind and be done with it. I can’t change these anxieties overnight. Everyone is afraid of losing those they’re close to, but for me it’s... Even the hint of a perceived threat turns my own mind against me. It spirals and pulls me down with it, jumping to the worst case scenarios and I convince myself that it will come to pass and I have to do everything in my power to keep it from being so.

...And in the end, that’s only led to things growing worse. This... [whatever it is] between us... I lost it before. It’s rebuilding, slowly, and I cherish it and treasure it. And because of that, I fear losing it even more. When things are good, it scares me. Being this happy— truly happy, not a falsified existence I’ve managed to sew together on a foundation of pain and bloodshed... This honest happiness is better, much better, but at the same time, more terrifying.

But I don’t... I don’t want to destroy everything in my attempts to keep this. I’m trying to talk to you more instead, to calm my fears directly instead of assuming and letting it fester. With you, and with others. [Like telling Zixuan everything on his own, like the times he’s spoken to Xichen directly when he’s having a bad time instead of holding it in. Like now.] But opening up, being— being vulnerable... I struggle with it. I don’t know if there will be a time when I won’t. But I hope you can see that I am trying. That I will continue to try.