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fan_flashworks2020-12-18 08:47 pm
laireshi) wrote in fan_flashworks2020-12-18 08:47 pm
Entry tags:
The Lost Tomb: Fanfic: not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it
Title: not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it
Fandom: The Lost Tomb
Rating: Teen
Length: 1138
Author's notes: This is set towards the end of The Last Tomb 2, where Xiaoge was poisoned with something that made him forget everything and attack Pangzi. (TLT2 ended before this plot was resolved.) Also thanks to![[twitter.com profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/e0caa790ec10/-/twitter.com/favicon.ico)
thosch3i for talking about this scenario with me!
Summary: Zhang Qiling doesn't know what how to deal with the immense trust that Wu Xie has in him.
Zhang Qiling was used to keeping a tight control over himself. He was taught not to care about pain; he schooled himself to hide all emotions until he forgot there was another way. This new poison coursing through his veins—it was a problem he would have to solve, sooner rather than later, but he could control himself until then. He had no choice, anyway: he had to keep Wu Xie safe, here in the snow where the very weather tried to kill them all. Attacking him like he'd attacked Pangzi was simply not an option.
(Attacking Pangzi shouldn't have happened, either, but now that he knew—he'd be prepared, he wouldn't let this poison control him again. Wu Xie would never need to fear him: that much, he was certain of.)
He was investigating one of the side caves near the hot springs with Wu Xie now. The tunnel had been narrow enough only the two of them could pass, without even their backpacks. It seemed like a naturally-formed cave without any signs of human activity, refreshing in its lack of traps, boring in every other aspect. They nodded at each other and turned to go back when a flash of pain went through Zhang Qiling's head, his vision going blurry for the slightest moment. He swayed on his legs, had to catch himself on the wall.
There was another man in the cave with him: a threat.
"Xiaoge? Your eyes—" the man started to say, his voice weirdly familiar, and Zhang Qiling snapped back to himself.
No. He couldn't hurt Wu Xie. But he was already losing this battle over his own body, his legs not obeying him when he wanted to turn away.
"Run," he snapped, but Wu Xie didn't listen.
He just stood there, in front of Zhang Qiling, his back straight and his eyes trained on Zhang Qiling's face like he couldn't hear the urgency in his voice. But of course: when had Wu Xie ever acted in a way that suggested he had a working survival instinct?
Zhang Qiling tried to fight the poison, tried to think. If he couldn't stop himself by his willpower alone, then he could stop himself physically. He'd left his sword at the camp, but he still had his knife. He reached for it—at least his hands still were his own—turned it on himself—
Wu Xie's eyes widened in sudden fear. He reached, as if to stop him—
The knife fell from Zhang Qiling's hands as his control snapped. The last thing he registered was a sharp relief on Wu Xie's face, and then Zhang Qiling just—wasn't there, not anymore.
There was just darkness, thick like molasses, suffocating, a sensation as if he were floating, his body no longer a concern of his. It was almost nice, not having to worry about anything. He wasn't sure how much time passed like that. Nothing much was a concern like this, really, but it felt like he was forgetting something important, something he couldn't afford to forget.
No, not something. Someone.
Wu Xie.
He came to suddenly, almost painfully, to the realisation that he was holding Wu Xie's up by his neck, his fingers curling too tight, cutting off his air. Wu Xie was choking, but he wasn't even trying to fight him off.
Zhang Qiling backed away in horror.
Wu Xie fell to his knees, coughing, his eyes tearing up, and yet he almost immediately tried to scramble back up.
Zhang Qiling had to go, before he hurt him more.
"Xiaoge!"
He froze in place.
Wu Xie approached him. His breathing was too fast; he was still clutching at his neck. Zhang Qiling was so terrified of hurting him again he couldn't move, not even to run.
"Xiaoge," Wu Xie repeated in a raspy voice. "It's okay." He was smiling, as if he wasn't still gasping for air.
Zhang Qiling shook his head. Wu Xie stared at him with this stubborn look he got sometimes, usually right before he did something extremely stupid.
There, right on cue: Wu Xie closed the distance between them with two shaking steps and wrapped his arms around Zhang Qiling. Zhang Qiling knew what he should do: push him away, leave him, disappear like he always did. It would be so easy.
He couldn't. He couldn't exert any kind of strength against Wu Xie. Not just now.
"I'm okay," Wu Xie told him. "You didn't hurt me."
Zhang Qiling hadn't realised that Wu Xie lying to him could hurt so much.
"Please don't run again. You promised to keep me safe, remember?" Wu Xie held him tighter. "I'm really fine. You couldn't hurt me."
Zhang Qiling very much could hurt him. Could kill him effortlessly. Wu Xie should've realised that already.
"Xiaoge."
Wu Xie let him go, finally—but he didn't step away, only grabbed Zhang Qiling's hands instead and steered his left hand to his heart, his right to his neck. Zhang Qiling ran his fingers over Wu Xie's pulse point almost on instinct, feeling the fluttering of his pulse in time with his heartbeat under his left palm.
"You shouldn't trust me."
"If I can't trust you, I can't trust anyone!"
Zhang Qiling looked at Wu Xie's throat, where his fingers rested over already-forming bruises, fitting their shape perfectly.
I almost killed you. He couldn't say it.
"I'm fine," Wu Xie said again. "Pangzi did worse when I ate his share of hotpot."
How could Wu Xie be so trusting? How had he grown up in the Wu family so fucking innocent?
But if he weren't, he would've never decided to become Zhang Qiling's friend. Zhang Qiling never would've had the chance to come to love him.
(And Wu Xie would have been safe.)
Zhang Qiling closed his fingers around Wu Xie's throat: just a reminder of what he'd almost done. He stared at Wu Xie, waiting for him to flinch, to realise how stupid of an idea it was to trust him of all people.
Wu Xie's heartbeat remained steady. He smiled.
"You won't hurt me."
This kind of deep, unshakeable trust—Zhang Qiling didn't deserve it. It was too much. He didn't know what to do with it, with being allowed to hold Wu Xie's life in his hands like this.
It was as if some thread holding him up was cut and he slid to his knees. Wu Xie yelped in surprise, but then he followed, wrapping his arms around Zhang Qiling again, holding him against his chest.
"We'll fix whatever's wrong with you," he promised. "I'll take care of you this time."
Zhang Qiling should stay away, and he knew he would have to leave, eventually, but at the moment could no more do that than he could order himself to stop breathing. He stayed in Wu Xie's warmth, impossible embrace.
Fandom: The Lost Tomb
Rating: Teen
Length: 1138
Author's notes: This is set towards the end of The Last Tomb 2, where Xiaoge was poisoned with something that made him forget everything and attack Pangzi. (TLT2 ended before this plot was resolved.) Also thanks to
Summary: Zhang Qiling doesn't know what how to deal with the immense trust that Wu Xie has in him.
Zhang Qiling was used to keeping a tight control over himself. He was taught not to care about pain; he schooled himself to hide all emotions until he forgot there was another way. This new poison coursing through his veins—it was a problem he would have to solve, sooner rather than later, but he could control himself until then. He had no choice, anyway: he had to keep Wu Xie safe, here in the snow where the very weather tried to kill them all. Attacking him like he'd attacked Pangzi was simply not an option.
(Attacking Pangzi shouldn't have happened, either, but now that he knew—he'd be prepared, he wouldn't let this poison control him again. Wu Xie would never need to fear him: that much, he was certain of.)
He was investigating one of the side caves near the hot springs with Wu Xie now. The tunnel had been narrow enough only the two of them could pass, without even their backpacks. It seemed like a naturally-formed cave without any signs of human activity, refreshing in its lack of traps, boring in every other aspect. They nodded at each other and turned to go back when a flash of pain went through Zhang Qiling's head, his vision going blurry for the slightest moment. He swayed on his legs, had to catch himself on the wall.
There was another man in the cave with him: a threat.
"Xiaoge? Your eyes—" the man started to say, his voice weirdly familiar, and Zhang Qiling snapped back to himself.
No. He couldn't hurt Wu Xie. But he was already losing this battle over his own body, his legs not obeying him when he wanted to turn away.
"Run," he snapped, but Wu Xie didn't listen.
He just stood there, in front of Zhang Qiling, his back straight and his eyes trained on Zhang Qiling's face like he couldn't hear the urgency in his voice. But of course: when had Wu Xie ever acted in a way that suggested he had a working survival instinct?
Zhang Qiling tried to fight the poison, tried to think. If he couldn't stop himself by his willpower alone, then he could stop himself physically. He'd left his sword at the camp, but he still had his knife. He reached for it—at least his hands still were his own—turned it on himself—
Wu Xie's eyes widened in sudden fear. He reached, as if to stop him—
The knife fell from Zhang Qiling's hands as his control snapped. The last thing he registered was a sharp relief on Wu Xie's face, and then Zhang Qiling just—wasn't there, not anymore.
There was just darkness, thick like molasses, suffocating, a sensation as if he were floating, his body no longer a concern of his. It was almost nice, not having to worry about anything. He wasn't sure how much time passed like that. Nothing much was a concern like this, really, but it felt like he was forgetting something important, something he couldn't afford to forget.
No, not something. Someone.
Wu Xie.
He came to suddenly, almost painfully, to the realisation that he was holding Wu Xie's up by his neck, his fingers curling too tight, cutting off his air. Wu Xie was choking, but he wasn't even trying to fight him off.
Zhang Qiling backed away in horror.
Wu Xie fell to his knees, coughing, his eyes tearing up, and yet he almost immediately tried to scramble back up.
Zhang Qiling had to go, before he hurt him more.
"Xiaoge!"
He froze in place.
Wu Xie approached him. His breathing was too fast; he was still clutching at his neck. Zhang Qiling was so terrified of hurting him again he couldn't move, not even to run.
"Xiaoge," Wu Xie repeated in a raspy voice. "It's okay." He was smiling, as if he wasn't still gasping for air.
Zhang Qiling shook his head. Wu Xie stared at him with this stubborn look he got sometimes, usually right before he did something extremely stupid.
There, right on cue: Wu Xie closed the distance between them with two shaking steps and wrapped his arms around Zhang Qiling. Zhang Qiling knew what he should do: push him away, leave him, disappear like he always did. It would be so easy.
He couldn't. He couldn't exert any kind of strength against Wu Xie. Not just now.
"I'm okay," Wu Xie told him. "You didn't hurt me."
Zhang Qiling hadn't realised that Wu Xie lying to him could hurt so much.
"Please don't run again. You promised to keep me safe, remember?" Wu Xie held him tighter. "I'm really fine. You couldn't hurt me."
Zhang Qiling very much could hurt him. Could kill him effortlessly. Wu Xie should've realised that already.
"Xiaoge."
Wu Xie let him go, finally—but he didn't step away, only grabbed Zhang Qiling's hands instead and steered his left hand to his heart, his right to his neck. Zhang Qiling ran his fingers over Wu Xie's pulse point almost on instinct, feeling the fluttering of his pulse in time with his heartbeat under his left palm.
"You shouldn't trust me."
"If I can't trust you, I can't trust anyone!"
Zhang Qiling looked at Wu Xie's throat, where his fingers rested over already-forming bruises, fitting their shape perfectly.
I almost killed you. He couldn't say it.
"I'm fine," Wu Xie said again. "Pangzi did worse when I ate his share of hotpot."
How could Wu Xie be so trusting? How had he grown up in the Wu family so fucking innocent?
But if he weren't, he would've never decided to become Zhang Qiling's friend. Zhang Qiling never would've had the chance to come to love him.
(And Wu Xie would have been safe.)
Zhang Qiling closed his fingers around Wu Xie's throat: just a reminder of what he'd almost done. He stared at Wu Xie, waiting for him to flinch, to realise how stupid of an idea it was to trust him of all people.
Wu Xie's heartbeat remained steady. He smiled.
"You won't hurt me."
This kind of deep, unshakeable trust—Zhang Qiling didn't deserve it. It was too much. He didn't know what to do with it, with being allowed to hold Wu Xie's life in his hands like this.
It was as if some thread holding him up was cut and he slid to his knees. Wu Xie yelped in surprise, but then he followed, wrapping his arms around Zhang Qiling again, holding him against his chest.
"We'll fix whatever's wrong with you," he promised. "I'll take care of you this time."
Zhang Qiling should stay away, and he knew he would have to leave, eventually, but at the moment could no more do that than he could order himself to stop breathing. He stayed in Wu Xie's warmth, impossible embrace.
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(aww, you have an icon from my--and probably everyone's--favourite scene from TLT2!)
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And yes! That scene is just. So much. So so much. XD
I also have a very suspicious Pangzi being unimpressed and Not Here For This.
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This is really the only way to describe it xD SO MUCH.
(Pangzi deserves some kind of order for dealing with it all.)
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He puts up with *so much* from the other two, he definitely deserves something.