#legendwrote

Kunlun Mountain’s dragon qi was still rising steadily greater by the day. This hall of meditation and cultivation was being restored to its full glory as Mo Yuan’s seclusion was coming to an end. His energy from his 70,000 year dormancy had finally returned.                         

If only it wasn’t too late, he thought to himself as his eyes opened. His meditation was broken by that intrusive thought. The God of War, Last Son of Father of Gods, Mo Yuan had never felt helpless before. His serene countenance never wavered but the feelings of restlessness and disturbance under the surface had been difficult to suppress and regulate to finish his spiritual healing.               

Mo Yuan had been meditating in his chamber in the early morning, but now as he had been interrupted, he stepped out of the doorway into the predawn light. The first tendrils of sun revealed a noble figure with sharp, handsome features. He looked regal in his blue silk garments and his gold hairpiece that shined dully in what scant light there was. His presence exuded a peaceful calm that seemed it would affect all around him. That calmness was reflected in the lotus pond to his left. The lotus pond drew him nearer. Once a place of reflection, this pond had turned into the home of memory. 

He stared at a perfect white lotus on the surface. This pool of water once held the golden lotus, the spirit of his twin brother. The golden lotus had accompanied him for hundreds of thousands of years. He’d anticipated the day to meet his twin incarnate for millennia, and finally Ye Hua, Crown Prince of Heaven had emerged. He was outstanding by all accounts, but Mo Yuan was only able to meet his twin once. Far too soon after that, Ye Hua, still devastated by Mo Yuan’s seventeenth disciple’s rejection and stubborn refusal to see him, had been compelled to fight the arisen Qingcang, while in a heavily weakened state. Though he won his battle, Qingcang activated the Donghuang Bell once again and Ye Hua made the same choice as Mo Yuan  had 70,000 years before. Ye Hua sacrificed himself and passed in the arms of the woman both brothers loved. Little seventeen.   

The memories were swirling in his mind like a torrential storm. Mo Yuan closed his eyes and placed two fingers to each temple. As he invited the energy of the still lotus pond to balance his spirit, his shadow from the dawning sun, lengthened against the stone. He stood there a moment longer until his thoughts were as still as the pond. He walked steadily through Kunlun taking in the mountain’s beauty. His thoughts turned to another source of beauty as he walked.                                           

 “Seventeen.”                                                         

The whisper left his lips like a prayer. He had spent most of his seclusion trying to untangle a ball of confusion about his only female disciple. The white nine-tailed fox, the woman he spent 70,000 years piecing his soul back together for, now Queen of Qing Qiu, Bai Qian, was grieving the loss of his brother, her lover and betrothed. The fact that when he had awoken she had not only been betrothed to his twin, but was deeply in love with him, had briefly left him feeling hollow. The fact that she had spent 70,000 years giving him her heart’s blood confused him further. I was too late in returning, he thought once again. Always too late it seems.

As he entered the main hall and awaited his fifteen remaining disciples’ appearance, he pondered what to do, if anything, about Seventeen. She had not returned to Kunlun yet. Her grief had been profound and there was no comfort for her. Mo Yuan was loathe to leave her alone in that grief to begin with, however she insisted on being alone, and he needed to return himself and Kunlun to full strength. Now that he was able to leave Kunlun for extended periods, it was past time to find Seventeen.

His disciples gathered in the hall and clamored over each other for their places. The novelty that their master had returned essentially from death, had not worn off yet, and their exuberance to serve him was humbling and endearing. Once everyone was in place, there was the rustle of clothing as all bowed, followed by a chorus of “Sifu.” Mo Yuan bowed back and gestured for them to sit. All sat except for his First Disciple Die Feng, who began making tea for his master.

As Die Feng placed the tea in front of Mo Yuan, a new figure entered the hall. Emperor Lord Donghua glided through the hall to the dais and bowed slightly. Mo Yuan returned the bow. “Please sit and have some tea with me.” Donghua sat to Mo Yuan’s right, offering no immediate reason for his silent visit. Mo Yuan guessed that his reasons were not for the ears of his disciples, however, Mo Yuan had some business with his disciples before they were dismissed.

“Have any of you had news of Seventeen?” There was a collective acknowledgment that no one knew her current situation or whereabouts. A twinge of disappointment crossed his face. It was imperceptible to nearly everyone, yet having noticed it, Donghua raised his eyebrows. Die Feng finished pouring tea for Emperor Lord and backed down to his place in a slight bow. He stood there for a moment thinking. When he approached his master once again, he respectfully lowered his head and asked, “Sifu, would you like us to find Seventeen and summon her to Kunlun?” Mo Yuan gazed at his First Disciple steadily.

Am I so transparent?                                           

Mo Yuan lifted his tea cup to his mouth. He drank, biding time to carefully construct a measured response. He gently set the cup down. “If you can find her, that is all. Do not approach her.” He looked at his disciples exchanging glances, a sense of relief washing over him. “That is all. Be sure to eat well, and behave if you go to the mortal world.” With that the disciples excitedly began chattering as they filed out of the hall.                                     

Donghua had sat quietly through the dismissal. He gazed at his tea cup, not looking at Mo Yuan. “The queen of Qing Qiu won’t be easy to find. Your disciples looked for her for 70,000 years and did not find her. If she does not want to be found, she won’t be.”

Mo Yuan pondered what his long time friend said, in his heart. Out loud he replied, “What brings you here so early?” Mo Yuan’s eyes glanced over at his friend who was mindlessly holding a charm at his waist made of red fox fur with one hand and placidly gazing forward. “It seems since your return we have even more in common.” His voice was quiet and his tone wistful.

He dropped the charm, set his tea down, and met his friend’s gaze. “Heaven Lord wishes to meet with you, but has been abed with grief for his grandson. Will you come?”                           

@legendwrote​ || Zhou Zishu

A single insignificant snowflake drifts through the air, falling one moment and soaring high the next, helplessly carried by the raging storm that moves the world around it. The winds are fierce and merciless but not fearsome. It doesn’t matter how often the little snowflake falls or rises, how quickly it moves or where it will land once its journey is done. Time is not of any essence and with nowhere to be or go, no place is the wrong one. The moment is short-lived and infinite at the same time, a heartbeat frozen in endless quiet peace.

Waking up is like daybreak after the longest night, like the first sunray of summer melting the ice that was frozen for centuries; and with every drop of meltwater Wen Kexing’s mind awakens a little more. His body remembers how to live first, his fingers moving against the blanket that covers him and his chest rising with a deeper breath than he’s taken since he closed his eyes on Zhou Zishu and the world.

Zhou Zishu. The first words he remembers to call out, but no sound comes from his lips, like his tongue has forgotten how to shape words. He’s floating, then falling, faster and faster, through the white endless snow-- until it all just stops.

He’s still and silent, like before, but with every breath that goes in and out of his lungs more feeling comes back to his body. He’s lying on a smooth surface, the comforting weight of a blanket covering most of his body. The air in the room is cool and filled with scents he recalls from what feels like several lifetimes ago. That’s right - he can breathe, hear, smell, taste. Remnants of the endless peaceful snow falling in his mind are still clinging to him but fading quickly now as he remembers what it’s like to be conscious.

Wen Kexing’s eyelids twitch, and then they open, blinking a few times as his vision clears. He looks at the high ceiling of a room made of windowless stone walls, far away from the bed he is lying on. With the ample space and the absence of decorations it lacks the comfort and intimacy of a bedroom and rather resembles a shrine. Kexing finds no memory of this room in his mind but something about it feels familiar. Something about everything here feels familiar.

And just like that, he remembers.

“A-xu..!” he calls out as he sits up, but his voice is so hoarse it barely comes out audible. His hair falls over his shoulders from the sudden movement - ashen white and far longer than it should be. Marveled, Wen Kexing catches a strand of it between his fingers to inspect it more closely. For a moment the thought of reincarnation crosses his mind. Perhaps he’s been reborn and this is his new life-- but no. These long ashen strands are his, as are the fingers holding them and the eyes seeing them. These thoughts are his, too, and these memories of a love so deep he chose to gave up everything to save it. Save him.

                                            TRICK OR TREAT ~ 

           ~ I couldn’t decide which beans so here is a product of a random generator lol~

         ever since he was young, xue meng had always held a great deal of admiration for him, trying his hardest to develop as strongly and quickly as possible. however, there were moments where his sheer stubbornness and motivation to rise up were not enough to get xue meng where he wanted to be. it was then that he would hesitantly rely on his master, even if needing to do so was cause for great embarrassment to him.  “ shizun… ”  xue meng muttered quietly at the door of his chambers, afraid to knock too loudly.  “ are you there? ”  he asked, holding his breath without noticing.

For   each   ❌   I   receive,   my   muse   will   reveal   one   of   their   kinks.

The water cascaded down from the sky, falling in sheets to be blown across the street. Thunder boomed over head, enough that she felt the building vibrate. It wasn’t unusual, and yet, Feng Wu never seemed to get used to it. Every bolt was a surprise, not an entirely pleasant one. Though, she assumed that right now, she was like a lightning bolt. Showing up out of the blue, drenched through and through.

The first step into his apartment brought guilt, that she was trailing water but it didn’t seem to matter. Her bag was abandoned at the door. Soaked through the canvas, through the notebooks and textbook in the bag.  She was met with warm hands, trying to peel soaking wet fabric off her. For a moment, she thought it was his fingers that were trembling, before she realised that it was herself. Shivering cold against the night air was a bad combination. It wasn’t long until there was a towel around her shoulders, dry warm clothes...even if it was one of his t-shirts...big enough to be a dress rather than a shirt.

All that was left was to wrap her arms around his torso, press her cheek to his chest as she held him. There was still a shake in her, cold muscles shivering as she tried to absorb warmth from him while the water heated up. Tea would warm her up, though it was going to take him, she was left with flinching into him as a narby strike lit up the sky, the clap of thunder made her curl her fingers into his shirt, gripping as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

@legendwrote​​ says: ❛ can’t sleep? ❜ (LQQ to WKX :3)

     meme || accepting

     he hadn’t even tried, tonight. had known without touching his bed that sleep would be long in coming and unpleasant when it did. he needs to sleep, he knows; he does, whenever he can. he’s not foolish enough to go without it. but you pick your battles, and he would rather pretend at control by not trying at all than try when he knows he will fail. lying awake makes him feel crazy, sometimes — crazier than usual — like he wants to claw his way out of his own skin. like he wants to expel himself.

     so he’s outside instead, walking. a ghost in the night, a lonely figure. ghost valley is far from silent at night — it’s just as easy to kill in the darkness as it is in the day, and there is always killing. but ghosts melt away when they see him coming. scatter like mice. nobody likes to meet the master of ghosts in a dark alley. who knows what he’ll do to them?

     he doesn’t plan to pass the department of the unfaithful. his feet know the way, he supposes — take him that direction when he doesn’t have another destination in mind. it was never his home, but it was the closest thing to a safe place that existed in the valley. the body remembers.

     and it turns out he is not the only notorious ghost lurking in the night. the devils may fear him, but they don’t run from him the way lesser ghosts might. he pauses when he hears her voice, puts on a cold smile. he understands liu qianqiao, a little — but they aren’t friends. he has no friends in the valley. so, the mask.

It wasn’t on purpose, she hoped he believed that. The moment she had walked into the room, she was busy, her mind was elsewhere, she was juggling like ten things in her brain and right now, there was not room to worry about if he’d finished in the bath or not. No, she was worrying that he might have lied about not being hurt, worried about Zhao Ge, worried about her mother and her fretting over the wedding, worried about the fall out of...well.

What had happened.

There was so much to do, so much work, Feng Wu had a to do list that was running into the tens of miles long, so long that she was already thinking about what she had to do after this, her mouth started moving before she looked up, “I got you a-” glancing up...she realised that he was in fact, finished in the bath...and he was naked. Oh god. Oh god.

Feng Wu flung the fabric at him with every bit of energy she could muster, as if somehow that was totally the correct reaction to have. Honestly. She didn’t know what reaction to have, all she wanted was for the world to swallow her up whole and then delete her existence from the universe. Embarrassed didn’t cover it...and why she didn’t quite know. It wasn’t as if she had time to sit and over analyse it right now.