飞来横祸 ;

        « papa! »

        the joyful cries of children echoed in the quietness of the night before he could even reach the brightly-lit wooden platform of the porch. from a distance away, a little boy about the age of six and his older sister, who looked no older than nine, both ran toward him at the speed of light. they were the children wen kexing had brought home to xue yang from the market; the two monkeys that they'd adopted as theirs – xiao huan and haoran.         hooked around his legs and waist, haoran was already affectionately nuzzling the robes around his belt, as if his face couldn't be buried deep enough into him to get his affection. clinging onto his right arm, however, his sister xiao huan had very different intentions: instead of his affection, it was his time that she requested. and she spared no time reminding him the promise he had made of teaching her a brand new martial art technique before going out earlier that day.

        wen kexing had a particular fondness for children. these two seemed to know it all too well, since they now dared to make cute little eyes at him, as compared to the first time they had met. if not for the fact that xue yang had interjected to ask them to give him space, he would've probably entertained these two without complaining. for that exact reason, wen kexing took a minute to look at xue yang, a fond smile etching his lips in thanks.

        this was when he realised: that he had yet to kiss his wife.

        whether or not this was his way to remind him that he had forgotten something, wen kexing had no intention to leave him hanging. as soon as the two siblings let go of him, his arm came to wrap itself around xue yang's waist, his lips tenderly pressing against his forehead, followed by the temples, until their lips came into contact for a much, much longer time.

"...Even if you ARE busy, you ought to make time to eat something other than candy." Exasperatedly hands him a new bag of sweets regardless - but softened from the usual way he is exasperated with this particular troublemaker. Not that he ever takes his OWN advice either - but sometimes he's worried about how the other is constantly surrounded by death and demonic talismans and darkness. Once in a while, he reasons - a growing child should see some sun, have a little exercise not to do with stabbing, eat some vegetables, and go to bed BEFORE the witching hour. "...Seeing as you've been on your BEST BEHAVIOR, you can have a day off, too. I'LL talk to Father about that."

dialogue prompts from you made a fool of death with your beauty by akwaeke emezi.

i didn't mean to trade war stories. i'm sorry.

i'm sorry for the hurt that lives in your heart.

i wish i could tell you it gets easier.

did you ever love again?

there's no such thing as an inappropriate question.

you don't mind being watched?

you always seem so alone.

i've never hidden who i am from you.

i'd like to think that we're becoming friends.

there are so many different types of love. different types of ways to stay committed.

this is the most bisexual conversation i've had in a long time.

you're being secretive, even for you.

we're friends first, right?

i didn't realize you were sappy like that.

of course you're on time when food's involved.

you look like a troublemaker.

it would be ridiculous to be jealous of a ghost.

there are moments that break timelines.

i have to lock up. for real, this time.

you look like you're about to assassinate someone.

something inside me just never stopped screaming.

when did hell freeze over? did i miss the memo?

you think i'd let someone else cook a dinner in my house?

i want to be someone i can recognize.

grief can feel like a lifetime of venom, spikes piercing through us.

what i really want to do is curl up in bed and cry.

no, i'm not awake. i'm sleep-talking.

i don't think i've ever seen you actually drunk.

you're lucky to have me, voice of reason and perspective.

if i keep moving, i won't have time to think.

there are some things that need to stay and die in last night.

you can put me down now.

when you held me, i thought i was going to break.

can't we just skip the talking part?

was it just a kiss for you?

i only ask one thing: don't lie to me.

i will hold anything you tell me with care. just please let it be the truth.

i don't know how to say what i want. it's like i've got all these voices yelling at me about how mad and fucked up it all is.

i'm terrified i'll say something and you'll look at me like i'm out of my mind.

i like being alone next to you. like our alones might walk side by side.

you are so generous with your heart.

you were like light. i couldn't help but turn my face to you, if i wanted to keep living.

i've spent a significant amount of time trying to change my feelings into something else, but i can't.

i am so tired of denying myself.

it's ridiculous how much i love watching you smile.

i can feel you staring, you know.

you okay? where did you go?

tell me what you're feeling. i'll take whatever it is, over you pushing me away.

i don't want to go back there. it feels like a place that could eat me alive if i did, even just by talking about it.

you have me for as long as you want, however much or as little as you want. i'm not going anywhere.

i have a hard time processing platonic affection.

you're messing with me. you've gotta be messing with me.

you know you can always just come home, right?

i guess 'messy and alive' is a good way to put it.

would you like to go on a walk? i have something to show you.

i've never done anything to hurt you, have i?

don't even say my name. keep it out of your mouth.

i want you to be okay, more than anything. tell me what you need.

i'm here. why are you trying to make me go away?

what will you do when you get tired of me?

i can still feel the shape of the hole left in my heart.

you're always so angry when you're in pain.

i'm here to take whatever spikes you throw at me, always. forever.

i appreciate your concern, but let me take care of myself. okay?

do what you gotta do to be happy.

this shit you want to know, it doesn't belong to you. it's not your business.

i love how you lean into grief and somehow use it to become even more alive.

i'm happy just to be with you, however you'll have me.

        he smiled through it all. from the force or clank of shackles to the master’s deceiving expression & the occasional brush of bloodied fingers across the freshly tattooed area to wipe the ink off, xue yang made of it a source of strange delight he’d hint to by the way his lip periodically curled into a smirk.

        did wen kexing need to supervise the process? it’s likely he didn’t but good thing, xue yang thinks, that he did. not only would his servants ironically be spared from the newborn ghost’s killing intent for another day, it’s given him an opportunity to keep feeding the unpredictably playful exchange. “ your hands aren’t good at branding?… then i can’t help but believe you snuck in here just to watch me get manhandled. are you getting a kick out of it? ” he ventures in a cloyingly docile tone, sitting up on the mattress with sluggish movements & the layers of his upper robes around his waist, letting out a ragged exhale ─── as if he’s slept for hours.

        but only when he catches a glimpse of his disheveled look in the mirror does he begin to consider drawing even more attention to it. he tosses the stray strands of his ponytail over his shoulder, steps over to the mirror, then turns halfway around & inspects the tattoo before he makes sure to lift his eyes just a little higher & peer at the master without having to face him. “ ...i don’t hate it. ” nothing particularly noteworthy, but he’s got scars that look a lot less attractive. xue yang rubs his wrists & soon pulls his robes back up around himself.

        For a few seconds as he looked up, his eyes met Xue Yang's. That was when the two ghosts behind him, who were still cleaning the rocky bed mere minutes ago, caught him unaware and held his hands behind his back with his robes half up, forcing him onto his knees in front of him. To make sure that he couldn't move, each of them had one of their feet pressing on his ankles, and as a small precaution, a needle pointing towards his neck.

        Wen Kexing smiled. But it wasn't the type of smile that looked even remotely friendly nor inviting. If anything, it was the type of smile that had a hint of warning. He had been lenient until now due to his good mood; so much that the other had felt comfortable enough to hazard a guess at his intentions. If he didn't draw a line right here and now, who knew what else he would feel comfortable doing in the future. No matter how amiable he could prove himself to be, he was still the irrational ghost master after all, and it was about time for him to get a good grasp of it.

        “A surprise?” he asked calmly, as if he was still just as congenial as he had been minutes ago. “Did you perhaps mistake my tone from earlier as me being good-natured?” If there was one thing that Wen Kexing couldn't accept, it was to be brazen enough to try and guess his thoughts. He didn't trust Xue Yang, and he had yet to find out what his true intentions for coming here were, if he allowed him to be too comfortable, he wouldn't hesitate to step over his head later on. So taking a step forward, then another, until he was only a hair's breadth away from him, he closed his long nails around Xue Yang's face to make him look into his eyes and said.

        If there was one thing that Wen Kexing could recognise among a thousand others, it was the sweet taste of osmanthus wine. Even as their lips gradually parted following their lengthy, sugary kiss, the taste still lingered on his tongue like honey, tickling the edge of his lips as if craving for another mouthful of that refined mixture. It was a sensation he couldn't help but chase with a brush of his thumb over the corner of his mouth, his eyes naturally following the shadow of the man who'd left him to guess what his present could possibly be.

        At first, Wen Kexing was indeed suspicious. They did not have enough money to buy such an expensive jar in the first place, and they had both picked up the shameless habit of stealing or getting themselves invited to gatherings they weren't welcome to in order to escape starvation for the longest time; but they had been in each other's company this entire time, so there was no chance for Xue Yang to have gotten hold of such a thing without him noticing it.

        The idea of him resorting to stealing quickly disappeared just as Xue Yang seemed to have anticipated his train of thought without him even voicing it. As he watched him lying on the grass with his arms behind his nape, Wen Kexing quietly stared at the folds of his robes from his lapels down to the hems; there was nothing unusual, not even an uneven shape to be seen to give him a hint. So this time, he speculated that his lover's present was none other than a good lay in a semi-public spot with his favourite fragrance as an incentive.

        He was visibly delighted at the mere thought of it. Licking his lips and rubbing his jaw as he mentally surveyed which area of Xue Yang's body he could dig in first, he realised that his wife-to-be appeared to know him well indeed. There was no better gift than having sex when he least expected it. But then, his eyebrows creased all of a sudden. There was clearly something wrong with this present. If Xue Yang had wanted to offer him his body, why would he mention stealing?