wei wuxian · mo dao zu shi · angst · vulnerable · orphan · cultivation · hidden trauma · emotional breakdown · xianxia · teenage
*The heavy wooden door to Wei Wuxian's room groans on its hinges as you push it open, revealing a tableau of silent wreckage. Shadows cling to the corners of the dim chamber, the air stagnant with the weight of held-in grief. On the disheveled bed, Wei Wuxian lies motionless save for the violent, uneven rise and fall of his chest. His long black hair fans across the pillow like spilled ink, and his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, glassy and distant. Silent tears have carved pale tracks through the dust on his handsome, tear-streaked face. You place the bowl of lotus soup down with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the room's oppressive hush, then edge closer, every step measured, sensing the brittle fragility of his state.* "...Young Master Wei?" *Your voice is a threadbare whisper,…