Bluebleedingmoon

(Sketch that will hopefully soon be turned into something more. Like, I already started coloring, but I have no idea when I will actually get to finish it ^^“)

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 31 - Wei Wuxian

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Day 10 - Rain

A little late, but better late than never, right?

Featuring Sizhui calling Wei Wuxian his mother, badass YunmengJiang disciples and the juniors squabbling among themselves.

(You can also find this on my Ao3-account)

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It was raining. Which in itself, may not have been that bad. Rain is good for growing and cleansing, after all. They needed rain.

Right now, on the other hand, surrounded by trees and fierce corpses, the rain was making his life rather difficult, Sizhui thought. It wasn’t enough that there were quite a lot more fierce corpses than they had anticipated and that they were stretched thin against their horde, the sky also had to fall down onto them in form of torrents pounding down, making every surface a death trap and reducing their sight to vague shapes (thank the gods the corpses weren’t also wearing something colorful).

Jin Ling had already nearly killed himself, when he slipped in the mud and just so missed the sharp end of a branch conveniently pointed at his neck. Zizhen had grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him upright just in time to rescue him from his demise.

Wei-qianbei had tried to take control of the corpses with Chenqing, but the rain, making the flute slippery and the sound garbled whenever water managed to get inside, and the sheer amount of Undead had him giving up on that quite quickly. Instead he was slashing through them with his sword, like the juniors were, but there simply seemed to be no end to them.

When Jingyi was the next one to slip and Wei-qianbei managed to catch him just before he could fall into the hungry arms of the undead, their senior called for retreat.

And Sizhui couldn’t even find it in himself to be disappointed, because he wanted nothing more than to be out of this horrible weather. They would come back with reinforcements and take on the horde another day (maybe one with sunshine instead of rain).

For now, they ran. Wei-qianbei threw a talisman that had miraculously managed to stay dry through all of this and butterflies swarmed the clearing they had been fighting in, shortly taking the attention off themselves to give them a head start.

Sizhui trusted their senior to not guide them straight back into the horde’s arms and put all his attention into making sure he didn’t slip in the sea of mud that once had been the ground, wishing he could just take to the air on his sword (he would probably fly straight into the next tree or mountain with the rain robbing him of any orientation).

It was all he could do to run in a straight line and not lose sight of the other four around him.

After a while they broke through the tree line and found themselves running on a more rocky ground, giving their feet something more solid to run on. The rain seemed to lessen, too, Sizhui noted when he could suddenly see the members of their group clearly.

What he could also see quite clearly wasn’t as pleasant.

“Wei-qianbei!”, he called, when it became clear, that what they were running at at full speed was nothing but a steep, sharp cliff, with no way out left or right, none but straight off that cliff or turning around into the fierce corpses‘ undead arms. Sizhui contemplated flying once more, but the rain still was too heavy to do so safely, at least at their level of cultivation (which was, Sizhui noted a little guiltily, still way above his mother’s level, even though he worked hard to cultivate Mo Xuanyu’s core to what his own had once been).

Wei-qianbei said nothing in response to his call, just continued running, already breathing heavily.

Sizhui exchanged a quick glance with Jingyi and Zizhen, who he could see clearly now and who looked as drenched as he was, but they just looked at him with wide eyed uncertainty. Fear began creeping its way into Sizhui‘s veins and made his heart pound and he pushed it down, before it could make all his clear thinking take off like spooked horses.

“Wei-qianbei?!”, he repeated and allowed his own uncertainty to show in his voice.

“Don’t stop!”, Wei-qianbei answered at last, still running steadily.

“But-...”, Jingyi tried to intervene and their senior cut him clean off.

“Trust me”, he panted, a little frown on his face, “We’re gonna jump.”

“What?!”, Zizhen shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped in his haste to stop.

“Don’t stop, idiot!” Jin Ling, behind him, who, interestingly, hadn’t said anything yet to his uncle‘s crazy plan, grabbed Zizhen‘s arm and pulled him forward again.

“Can’t you hear the river? You’re not going to die. Just jump off the damn cliff!”, he added and pushed Jingyi, when it looked like he was about to stop running as well.

And, indeed, over the sound of the heavy rain, they could hear a very (very) fast river, that was rushing by the cliffside.

Before any of them could question their apparently a little crazy senior or Jin Ling being alright with said senior’s much crazier plan, Wei-qianbei turned his head slightly to look back at them.

“Jin Ling, can you take Zizhen?”, he called, without clarifying what exactly he meant with that, but it seemed the young sect leader didn’t need any clarification.

“I got him!”, he answered, curtly, and grabbed Zizhen‘s arm, again, holding on tight this time.

„What? Take me where?“, Zizhen shouted again, trying to get his arm free, but didn’t get an answer.

Behind them the garbled screams of the fierce corpses became steadily louder, probably meaning they, too, had broken through the tree line. Sizhui also began thinking, that, even for a fast running river, the sound of rushing water was a little to loud. In fact, it sounded quite a bit like…

“Is there a waterfall?!”, Jingyi shouted, his wide eyes fixed into the edge of the cliff that was steadily coming nearer.

“Don’t worry”, Wei-qianbei threw over his shoulder, slowing down, until he was between the two Lans.

“’Don’t worry’?! How am I supposed to not worry, when I will be jumping into a waterfall?!”, the Lan disciple asked incredulously, Jin Ling once again pushing him from behind, when he began slowing down.

“You’re not going to die!”, he repeated his earlier words, “It’s just a waterfall, stop being so dramatic about it, or would you rather go back to our undead friends?”

“Dramatic?! Me?! Aren’t you a little too calm?!”, Jingyi replied. Before he could go on, Wei-qianbei grabbed his hand, pulling him closer and Sizhui changed his sword into his right hand, when his other hand reached out for him, holding on to the quite cold, but familiar hand tightly.

“Hold on tight to your swords and don’t let go of my hand!”, their senior shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard over the roaring water below and the pelting water above them (and the screaming fierce corpses behind them).

The edge of the cliff was just a few more steps away, when Jingyi began saying „We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die, we’re gonna DIE!“, and then the ground just stopped being there and Wei-qianbei leapt off the edge without hesitation, pulling both Lans with him, whether they were ready or not.

For a few long, agonizing moments, Sizhui was weightless, flying without the reassuring surface of his sword underneath his feet, his heart pounding loudly in his ears only just allowing him to hear Jingyi‘s terrified scream (he would regret that one later).

His head noted in an absentminded way, that the waterfall had in fact not been right below them, but a little to the left, so they hadn’t jumped right into it, though its stray water still made them even wetter than before (if that was even possible).

Then they hit the river.

The cold was a shock to his body he hadn’t been prepared for, even though he had already been drenched by the rain. He only just managed not to gasp and let out precious air or, even worse, breathe in water, his hands clenching tight around both their precious cargos (he didn’t even want to imagine how he would find his sword again, if the river washed it away).

Even underwater he could hear the roaring of the waterfall and could feel himself slowly but surely being towed by the current of the river, tugging at his robes and hair.

He had already lost any orientation he may have had when hitting the water, not being able to see anything around him except mud and leaves and branches rushing by, and only his mother’s hand still tightly around his kept the panic at bay, that threatened to overwhelm him.

It seemed like an eternity at the mercy of the cold river, but probably had only been a few moments, when Wei-qianbei tugged at his hand and pulled him into a direction that, for all that Sizhui knew, could as well have been the bottom of the river.

He broke through the surface with a gasp and immediately had to swallow water, that sloshed into his face, to keep himself from choking on it. He closed his mouth and tried to find his companions around him, while also trying not to choke on any more water that was constantly rushing into his face.

“Sizhui? Are you okay?”, he heard Wei-qianbei’s voice and turned around to its source, glad when he found a wet senior and a just as wet Jingyi next to him.

“Yes”, he answered, still breathless, and regretted it immediately, when he nearly choked on another mouthful of water.

Wei-qianbei pulled at him again, this time to get him closer to him, until he was pressed against his side, his mother’s arm securely around his middle.

“Jingyi, can you hold on to Sizhui? I need a free arm”, he asked over the roaring waterfall behind them and didn’t seem to have the same problem as the two Lans, of choking on water whenever they opened their mouth.

Jingyi nodded wildly and reached for Sizhui, sword thankfully still in his hand, who grasped his friend‘s arm tightly and pulled him against himself, as Wei-qianbei had done to him. Jingyi didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Sizhui‘s body, holding on for dear life, his sword hilt digging a little painfully into his stomach.

Now that his sight wasn’t blocked by Jingyi or as much water sloshing into his face (thanks to it being pressed into his mother’s dark robes), Sizhui could make out Jin Ling in his golden robes a little behind them, one of his arms around Zizhen’s middle and already pushing against the current with his free arm and legs, to bring them closer to the other three.

“Are both of you okay?”, Wei-qianbei asked, as soon as they were close enough to hear him over all the noise around them.

“Of course, although Zizhen probably pissed his pants when we jumped”, Jin Ling answered, seemingly unimpressed, Sizhui noted a little awed, with having to hold up both himself and his friend in the strong current, the water in his face bothering him just as little as his uncle.

“Did not!”, Zizhen gasped and, in similar fashion to the two Lans, immediately had to cough out what seemed like the whole river. Jin Ling only rolled his eyes at him and kept effortlessly fighting against the running water.

“Then let’s go”, Wei-qianbei said, ignoring their squabbling with a little smile.

And go they did.

Like it was nothing, Wei-qianbei and Jin Ling cut through the water against the current, as if there wasn’t an entire body of water trying to force them into the opposite direction, not to mention the rain still coming down on them, still making everything that much more difficult. When Sizhui caught Jingyi’s eyes over his shoulder, he was looking at him with the same wide eyed astonishment he was feeling himself.

The Lan sect was known for their (in his mother’s words: “ridiculous”) arm strength, but strong arms or not, Sizhui was sure he would have no chance against this river on his own. He wasn’t even sure if Hanguang-Jun would have a chance (although knowing his father, he could probably pull it off with merely a little frown on his face betraying his struggle, he was that kind of awesome).

When he looked in front of them again, he could make out a sharply banking shore to their right through the rain and asked himself how Wei-qianbei had known in which direction to swim.

When they were close enough to the bank to see it clearly, Wei-qianbei found a stray root from one of trees on the shore, growing out of the sandy wall of the bank and reaching into the water. He pulled at it and when it held, dragged it closer to them.

“Jingyi, you first”, he said.

Jingyi released one arm from his death grip around Sizhui and tucked his sword awkwardly into his belt to have both hands free. He closed his hand around the root, Wei-qianbei holding it steady for him. When he was sure he had a good grip, he released his hold on his friend completely, wrapping both his hands tightly around the lifeline, when the river immediately tried to sweep him away.

But Jingyi wouldn’t be Jingyi, if he allowed some river to best him, so he put a determined expression on his face and climbed the root, until he could pull himself onto the shore.

Wei-qianbei pushed Sizhui to the root next, and he tucked his sword into his belt like his friend had, before closing his hands around it.

Jingyi was waiting for him on the bank and helped him pull himself over the edge. When Zizhen came up next, they both grabbed his arms and dragged him the last bit to safety.

Jin Ling was up and next to them before they even had a chance of offering help, their senior close behind him.

In the end, they were the only ones not lying on the ground in an exhausted heap.

The rain pelting down on them no longer felt icy but only just cool after the much colder river and the sand underneath them was still comfortable, even when wet. At least much more comfortable than being thrown around by a river.

Even though Sizhui hadn’t been the one swimming, every muscle in his body seemed to hurt and some cramps made themselves known. He silently stretched his cramping muscles, allowing himself a sigh of relief when they relaxed. He may not have been swimming, but he did fight against an overwhelming force of fierce corpses in very bad weather and the stress and fear of jumping off a cliff (not quite) into a waterfall did the rest, he was allowed to be exhausted.

Jin Ling seemed to have a different opinion.

“How is it possible that you three are down there, panting like dogs, when Wei Wuxian and I did all the work”, he asked with a mocking frown, his arms crossed and standing in the relative shelter of one of the trees.

“How the hell can you swim all this way and climb up here and NOT be on the ground?”, Jingyi countered, lifting his head off the ground to avoid getting rain into his face while speaking.

“We grew up at Lotus Pier”, the young sect leader answered, as if that explained everything. It did not.

“We grew up surrounded by water. There is not a single child at Lotus Pier that doesn’t learn how to swim”, Wei-qianbei explained with a smile and soft eyes, “And although the lake around the pier is quite calm, there are a few rivers around it, leading out of Yunmeng, that have really strong currents. Many go swimming there, there are even competitions on who can swim fastest against the currents. Or at least there were...” He trailed off with a far off look in his eyes, ducking under the tree next to Jin Ling.

“There still are”, the sect leader said, “Uncle Jiang started them again when I was five or six.” He and Wei-qianbei looked at each other with a knowing look and a little smirk, probably because Sect Leader Jiang himself was one of the regular participants in those competitions.

“You do stuff like this for fun?”, Zizhen called out disbelieving and looked at the two in despair, when they only shrugged and nodded.

“And you say we Lans and our rules are insane”, Jingyi said into the air, letting his head thunk back into the sand and closing his eyes, clearly giving up on trying to understand the two clearly crazy YunmengJiang disciples.

“At least I didn’t scream like a little girl when I jumped down the cliff”, Jin Ling noted with devilish little smirk.

“At least I didn’t nearly stab myself to death on a branch”, Jingyi shot back immediately, not even opening his eyes, and only Wei-qianbei’s hand on his shoulder stopped the sect leader from throwing himself onto the Lan disciple.

Sizhui lazily turned his head to the side and opened one eye. Wei-qianbei was smiling, mirth dancing in his eyes, throwing an arm around his nephews shoulders that wasn’t shrugged off. Instead said nephew ducked his head to hide his probably red cheeks and swayed that much closer to his uncle.

Slowly, Sizhui dragged himself upright, not caring for once about his now dirty, sand-covered robes, stumbling instead to join Wei-qianbei and his friend under the tree. His mother was already reaching out with his free arm and Sizhui allowed himself to crash into his side, burrowing his face into his warm neck, sighing satisfied, when the arm was put around him and held him tight.

“A-Yuan?”, his mother inquired quietly, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Just tired”, he hummed, “Let’s not do this again.” From his mother’s other side came an undignified snort, that he ignored, while his mother huffed, amused.

“Yeah, let’s not do this again”, said Jingyi, still lying in the sand, “I don’t think my nerves can handle another jump like that.”

“Maybe they could, if you don’t scream like a little girl again”, Zizhen remarked, also from the ground.

This time Jingyi shot up and glared at the other.

“At least I didn’t piss myself when I jumped”, he shot back and Zizhen scrambled upright as well, red already seeping into his cheeks.

“I did NOT piss myself!”

“I don’t know, Little Princess over there seemed to be pretty sure about that.”

“Who are you calling princess, you idiot?”

Jin Ling shook off the arm around his shoulders and went to stand over the two sitting boys and a few moments later they had him on the ground with them and were all wrestling around in the sand.

Sizhui tucked his smiling face back into his mother’s neck and made himself comfortable in his embrace. This was probably going to take a while…

Charcoal

(4/5)

—-

And the fourth one.

I started with a color scheme of black/grey, silver, gold and blue, but then Timberwolf came out with his hair and I took it up again with Rosewood, so magenta joined the color scheme, shortly followed by white. ^-^

So, some of you may remember my fanart and fanfiction for fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest 2020: Golden, which I posted now pretty much exactly a year ago, and, guess what, I made a second part!

You don't necessarily need to have read the first part, if you just want to enjoy the art, but for better understanding and if you want to, I'd be happy to have you take a quick look at it.

Also, the story here is just a preview, if you want to read the whole thing, visit this story on my Ao3-account.

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Carnage of Red Shadows

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"There you are. For a moment here, I thought you wouldn’t come at all.“

The voice echoed through the whole room, as if the owner had screamed, even though his tone was calm, nearly bored.

Lan Wangji’s head jerked up, to find a figure sitting on the throne at the other side of the room.

Silver eyes locked onto his and he nearly forgot how to breathe.

He knew those eyes, he remembered them, remembered them looking at him teasingly, with a shining glimmer inside them that made them look like stars.

"Wen… Wen Wuxian?“, his brother asked in an uncertain tone.

"In the flesh“, the other man replied with a careless wave of his hand down his body.

And Lan Wangji wished he hadn’t, because his eyes followed the movement, lured by the soft tinkling of the chains and rings on a pale hand, and fell upon the body that he wished he could have forgotten.

Again, it was clad in less garments than would be considered proper, the legs barely hidden behind skirts layered upon one another, littered with golden gems that blinked and glittered in the firelight. The outermost skirt was made from a translucent, flowing fabric, dark like smoke, teasing with the silhouette of a pale, creamy leg, pulled up onto the throne, while it’s counterpart was naked and out in the open for everyone to see. The inner skirt was blood red and covering just enough remain the bare amount of decent, while the chest was just so covered by fabric in matching black and red.

And again the man was draped in more jewelry than even Jin Zixuan out on a special day. An elaborate headpiece sat on top of his hair, red gems sitting in delicate strings of gold. Long golden chains flowed down his back with his shimmering hair, clinking softly with every movement of his head. More golden strings were strapped across his chest and even more connected the chest piece with the bracelets on his arms. His neck, wrists, upper arms, thighs and ankles glimmered with golden bands.

But the worst of all, worse than the revealing clothes and the enticing gold all over his body, was his face. Not bare with the faintest traces of lip stain like the last time Lan Wangji had seen him, his eyes were surrounded by red shadows this time, like he had only seen some wealthy women wear or those of less appropriate professions. Little flakes of gold flared up with the smallest movement, clinging to the skin around his eyes and even to his lashes.

The silver eyes looked even brighter and at the same time nearly threateningly sharp, sending shivers down Lan Wangjis back, as did the dark red lips with the same golden shimmer, pulled into a tiny smirk.

Just like the first time he had seen the mystifying figure that was Wen Wuxian, Lan Wangji was mesmerized. No matter that seconds ago he was ready to fight for his life and sect and was surrounded by foul-smelling, rotting bodies, he was unable to take his eyes off the man, his heart beating fast and loud in his ears. Everything about him, from his dark, flowing locks, to the pale, creamy, soft looking skin, to the tantalizing gold and jewels creating an aura of superiority and unimpeachability, to his captivating eyes, fascinated him on a level no person had ever reached before. Even without ever being any closer to this man than this, separated by a whole room, even with just a look, he took hold of him, touching places inside him no one has ever been able to touch.

He felt hot and cold at the same time, felt the desire to go over and take a closer look, run his hands over his skin, to see if it was just as soft as it looked, and at the same time to just stand there for eternity and be allowed to never take his eyes off him.

His feelings, that he had such a tight hold on since he could remember, were running wild and free through his body, making it react in ways he hadn’t experienced before, making him feel uselessly off guard, making him unable to think clearly, to actually grasp the situation. They were warring against his head, that was urging him to gather himself and actually pay attention to what was happening around him.

The sound of a sword meeting stone finally ripped his focus free in a jarring way, that felt a lot like cold water being splashed onto him. With a miniscule shake of his head and gripping Bichens hilt, until he had the feeling it’s impression would be forever pressed into his palm, he managed to rip his eyes away and focus them back onto the piles of corpses.

Just looking at their dead eyes and some still sluggishly bleeding bodies was sobering and he felt his senses return to him, together with the overwhelming stench and the sounds of people retching behind him.

"How do you like my welcome present?“, Wen Wuxian spoke again, this time with a wave into the room to encompass all the death inside it, "I thought it might satisfy you.“

The glint in his eyes made them look nearly eerie.