#'every cultivation sect needs an evil shixiong'

[waitineedaname]

we know binghe and sqq still consider binghe to be a disciple of qing jing, but is that recognized by anyone else? I imagine it's pretty awkward with anyone who was around for, y'know, the entirety of books two and three, but ning yingying still tells him to call her shijie so that's gotta count for something. basically I'm asking this because I'm wondering if new disciples were brought onto the peak, whether they'd call him shixiong

[lizhly-writes]

hey guys do you wanna hear about my bad idea ahahaha i'm just joking i'm going to tell you whether you like it or not.

anyway! au where jiang fengmian brings back a starving orphan from the streets, and his name is yue qi.

(what happened to wei wuxian? don't worry about it it's fine) (idk maybe he doesn't exist? whatever)

yue qi is strong. yue qi is talented. yue qi tries harder than anyone. yue qi is perfect and you can't even really be irritated at him for it, because he's nice and polite and good-tempered and absolutely everything you could ask for in a da-shixiong.

jiang cheng feels so fucking bad about this. second best even in a whole new au, huh, a-cheng? but it's not your fault. even op protagonist bing-ge couldn't beat yue qi in a fair fight!

nobody knows this, though, so you're just going to have to suffer through the comparisons. it's your mom and your dad and all the little disciples thinking that yue qi is better than you. ooooh, that can't be good for that burgeoning inferiority complex your mom's instilled in you, huh?

but, you know. jiang cheng's going to be sect leader. he's going to need a strong sect. even if his mom fuckin bitches at him for not being as good as yue qi -- yue qingyuan -- then at least he's going to have a strong right hand, right?

HAHAHAHA.

so there are two routes we can go here. for the sake of my early morning ramblings, we're going to go for the more unrealistic one that requires me to jump through more hoops, because i think it's hilarious.

yue qingyuan starts getting more distant as he gets older. going on long nighthunts away from the lotus pier, you know. he stops leading the disciples in morning drills -- or, well, it's less that he stops, and more that he's not around to actually do that.

he's not around a lot.

snide, snide commentary about how yue qingyuan is going to run away to become a rogue cultivator, just like -- (but we don't talk about them). how yue qingyuan's not going to be da-shixiong for much longer. every time yue qingyuan returns to lotus pier, he seems to be more tired, more wound up, more stressed out --

and then everything stops. yue qingyuan comes back one day emotionally catatonic. he doesn't respond properly when people talk to him. unrelatedly (of course it's unrelated), there is some wailing and weeping in the night. some little shidi thinks that somehow a resentful ghost has made it into the pier and alerts da-shixiong about it in the morning.

thankfully, da-shixiong is back to normal in the morning. "i'll take a look," da-shixiong says, and then everybody forgets about it because da-shixiong is back and da-shixiong stops going on those long nighthunts away and everything is fiiiinnnne, don't worry. and if da-shixiong is a bit more brittle after that -- well, you're probably just imagining it.

jiang cheng worries about it. but yue qingyuan never says anything, because that's what yue qingyuan does. he never says annnnnnything to anyone.

of course, there's only so long you can argue with da-shixiong when the plot is coming up. gusu happens. the wens happen.

jiang cheng and yue qingyuan get sent to the wen evil summer camp, or whatever it's called. indoctrination, right?

lectures. drills. meaningless busy work for the sake of beating people down. obedience, and more obedience. there's a wen staring down every class, just waiting for them to slip up. there's one in particular that seems to have it out for yue qingyuan, sharp mouthed and pointy and HAHAHA OKAY, you've probably guessed who this is, haven't you? you're a genre-savvy audience, i bet!

ah, but i'll spell it out anyway, don't worry. for a-cheng, maybe, because jiang cheng can't guess, because yue qingyuan doesn't tell him anything. jiang cheng's out of the loop, on the outside, like he always is with yue qingyuan. don't worry, jiang cheng -- you're not special. he treats you like he treats everyone else.

but ah, that's the problem, isn't it?

jiang cheng stumbles over da-shixiong at night, past curfew, arguing with the wen. or, really, it's not arguing -- the wen is verbally eviscerating him, and yue qingyuan is just letting him. attacks on yue qingyuan's character and talent and everything, and about how yue qi's CLEARLY found a replacement (replacement? what does that mean?) and fine, you think you're so respectable now, of course only a high-bred sect heir is good for you (that jiang-gongzi, do you think he's a better version of me) (is this the version of me you've always wanted?) --

all yue qingyuan says is "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry--"

there's got to be one question on your mind, huh, a-cheng? yue qingyuan seems to know this wen. pretty well, it seems -- those insults aren't generic, this seems personal. why? how?

who the hell is wen qingqiu?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Curse-breaker (Chapter 4/4)

- ao3 -

“You know him, right?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Xichen. He was trying not to appear as nervous as he felt in asking, but he was pretty sure he was failing. “Nie-gongzi?”

Lan Xichen smiled. “I do. And thank you for calling him that, he prefers it.”

There were those that had started calling him Curse-breaker, as if it were a proper title; Jiang Cheng had heard it said a few times, and while he didn’t personally disagree with the moniker, which seemed appropriate, he also knew better than to just drop it into a conversation.

Luckily. He was trying to make a good impression here.

“What’s he like?” Jiang Cheng blurted out, then immediately wanted to kick himself. “I mean – it’s just – I didn’t see him much when he visited the Lotus Pier –”

He was making it worse.

It was only that he’d never quite met anyone with so much presence as Nie Mingjue: taller even than Jiang Cheng’s father, with that strange eye that seemed to see everything and anything. His features were generally set in a neutral expression that made him seem almost unworldly, like some god untouched by human concerns, but which sometimes softened a little when he approved of something – or someone.

Jiang Cheng could feel his cheeks going red, and tried to suppress it.

“Mingjue-xiong liked you,” Lan Xichen said, and Jiang Cheng lost the battle at once, his whole face heating up until it felt unbearably hot. This was worse than the time that Nie Mingjue had come to the Lotus Pier and told his parents to value Jiang Cheng more or else, and then his father had come in with a smirk and a snarl and somehow made them do it. “He said so.”

“He did?”

“Oh, yes. He said you were talented and faithful, with a good heart, and that we’d see great things from you.”

Jiang Cheng was going to die.

“That’s nice,” he said, with an effort. “I thought very highly of him, too. He’s…great.”

Wow. ‘Great’. Was that really the best he could do?

Lan Xichen studied him for a moment, then nodded. “He really is,” he said, and sighed. “I had the same reaction, you know. He’s…a lot.”

Jiang Cheng felt seen. “I know,” he said effusively. “He’s just – you know?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said. “Just –”

He waved his hand in the air. Not even making some sort of gesture, just a meaningless sort of wave, but for some reason Jiang Cheng understood him completely.

There really just weren’t words sometimes, when you wanted to describe things or people that inspired feelings that went beyond the merely describable. Nie Mingjue was one of those – Jiang Cheng had known that Lan Xichen would understand, and sure enough, he did.

And to think that Wei Wuxian liked Lan Wangji better!

Really, his shixiong might be more talented than Jiang Cheng in many ways, ways that were often a matter of jealousy, but Jiang Cheng clearly had better taste.

“Oh, there you are,” a voice said, and Jiang Cheng tensed and turned to look – but it was only Wen Qing, so that was fine. “Lan-gongzi, Jiang-gongzi, I was sent to spend some time with you.”

She probably meant that she was sent away so that the adults would have time to talk about issues they thought were too sensitive to involve the younger generation, or else they just wanted to start drinking earlier in the afternoon than usual and didn’t want her judging them from a medical standpoint. Either might be true – Wen Qing was widely acclaimed as one of the most talented in their generation, as terrifying with her needles as other people might be with their sword, from more or less the first moment she’d finally been allowed to join the rest of them on equal grounds.

They greeted her, trying to stand up to be polite, but she waved them down irritably and took a seat instead. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nie Mingjue,” Lan Xichen said, and Jiang Cheng nodded. “We were just commenting on his many admirable qualities.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, even more emphatically.

Wen Qing looked at them both with that critical eye of hers for a long moment.

Then she sighed in a huff. “He’s really all that and more, isn’t he?” she said.

“He is,” Lan Xichen said.

“He’s just –” Jiang Cheng tried the same gesture as Lan Xichen earlier, and was gratified when Wen Qing started nodding herself in total agreement. “Right?”

“Right.”

-

Nie Mingjue was aware that many people liked to stare at them, but they had assumed it was because of how unusual they were – even putting aside the eye, which was their most obviously not-normal feature, their behavior was not always in line with regular people’s. They didn’t show their emotions on their face as easily, being more naturally inclined towards sternness, and their manner was both sharp and incisive, straightforward and blunt; they had missed critical years of social development while lost in what amounted to seclusion, too busy solidifying their sense of self, consolidating their we into an I.

(They were still trying to figure out gender, a process complicated by the fact that it hadn’t made much sense to either of them to begin with. They were starting to suspect it would be better to just give up on it entirely.)

It turned out, according to Nie Huaisang, that that was not why all those people were staring.

“When you say they like me…”

“Sexually or romantically attracted, usually both,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have a lot of would-be suitors. Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, Jiang Yanli –”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to use their names directly like that,” Nie Mingjue said, though they weren’t sure about that. They’d forgotten more etiquette than they’d ever learned. “Also, isn’t Jiang Yanli getting married to Jin Zixuan?”

“He’s another of your admirers. As is Meng Yao…no, sorry, Jin Ziyao. You know he secretly thinks that you killed Jin Guangshan for him, right?”

They’d killed Jin Guangshan because he was rotten through and through, and he didn’t even have a qi deviation or a tormenting heart demon to blame for it. He just thought of people as things, even the ones he supposedly liked, and acted accordingly…they hadn’t really thought through the consequences of killing him when they’d done it, having long ago forgotten the concept of political considerations, but it was really amazing what could be covered up or excused if multiple sect leaders put their minds to it while the rest just breathed a sigh of relief that Jin Guangshan was gone.

“That seems like too many people,” they said. “They can’t all be my…admirers.”

“You think that’s it? I haven’t even gotten to Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian – both at once, if that’s your preferred flavor – and even that feral child Jin Ziyao found in Kuizhou…you know just the other week, he loudly declared that you were better than sweets and the entire room sighed all at once in agreement?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. There are even rumors that say that Sect Leader Wen might be interested…”

They shrugged.

Nie Huaisang squinted at them. “Da-ge. Did you know about that one?”

“Sect Leader Wen is not subtle,” they said dryly. “But if it makes you feel better, his interest is purely a matter of cultivation, and also our father has already hit him for even making the suggestion.”

Nie Huaisang didn’t look impressed. “Are you sure it’s purely a matter of cultivation? Would you be able to tell if it wasn’t?”

Nie Mingjue considered how little they’d recognized any of the other people who were purportedly interested in them. “No,” they admitted.

“Hmm. What about Teacher Lan?”

“What about Teacher Lan?” they asked, suspicious.

“Nothing, nothing. Just something I read somewhere…”

Probably one of those spring books that he was always sneaking around, they concluded.

“Though…you have been going out of your way to meet up with Teacher Lan more often recently…”

“He’s helping me figure out some of the bureaucratic intricacies of changing succession,” they said. “He’s had the most experience, having to do it twice – once to get his brother out of the line of succession, and another to get him back in. He’s a good teacher.”

He was, too. For all of Nie Huaisang’s tall tales about Lan Qiren’s strictness and overly-rigid insistence on orthodoxy, the man himself had a very calming presence, still and tranquil. It made them think of a musical instrument and, using the Nie cultivation method as a base, start to think strange thoughts…

Though not the sorts of thoughts Nie Huaisang had in mind.

“I mean, I guess. Even I learned eventually, and – wait. Why do you need to know about how to change succession? You’re already the heir.”

“That’s the problem,” Nie Mingjue said. “I need to figure out how to abdicate my position in your favor.”

Nie Huaisang gaped at him.

“No, I’m not joking,” they said, because they knew their little brother. “I’m not suited for politics. I don’t think I ever was, and after everything that happened, I’m even less suited.”

They really weren’t. Too blunt, too sharp, too concerned with justice, too inhuman – they were good at fighting, in the sense that they knew how to be a saber as well as a human and could wield sharpness in the same way, a slash from their fingers being enough to cleave a man in half, but that wasn’t what being a sect leader was about.

No, Nie Huaisang would be much better at it.

“Da-ge, you can’t do this to me!” Nie Huaisang wailed. “Do you know how much work it’d be? Anyway, you can’t – our father’s already promised all of Qinghe Nie to your future spouse! So there!”

“Then I just won’t ever get married.”

“What?!” Nie Huaisang waved his hands wildly. “You can’t do that! You – you – do you know how many hearts you’d be breaking?!”

“So you’ve informed me,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “It’s all right, Huaisang. I rather like the life Teacher Lan has made for himself, traveling all around and coming back every few seasons to teach something. I want to fight evil, and there’s a lot more evil out there than there is in here.”

Or, at minimum, there was more evil of the sort they were allowed to just stab. That was apparently frowned upon, in politics – there was a reason they said they weren’t suited for it.

“You’re not suited for fighting evil with a blade,” they added while Nie Huaisang was still spluttering. “But you can do wonders with people, if you’re given enough time to plan it. Being sect leader will put you in the position that will let you fight evil best, in your own way.”

“Not everything is about fighting evil, da-ge!”

“Isn’t it?”

Nie Huaisang didn’t seem to have a good answer to that.

After a while, he finally said, “…you really think I’d be good at it?”

Nie Mingjue pulled their younger brother in for a hug.

“You’ll be magnificent,” they promised.

-

They liked travel, just as they’d suspected they would.

People always recognized them – the eye was very distinctive, and they were also very tall – and immediately rushed over to share all their problems. They were very happy to help. Some of them they could fix personally, generally the ones that were stabbable, while they had a wide enough set of acquaintances to deal with many of the others: those who needed healing to go to the Lan sect or Wen sect, depending on whether problem was mental or physical; those that needed advancement to the Jin sect or Jiang sect; mysteries to be solved to the newly established Wei sect over in Yiling; and anyone with anything more abstruse than that over to Nie Huaisang personally to sort of.

Their little brother liked a good puzzle.

As for Nie Mingjue’s part, they liked fighting evil, and they liked helping people, too, if they could manage it, so it all worked out quite well. The road could be a little lonely at times, all alone with no one around, but it wasn’t really that bad. They were welcome at just about every cultivation sect and most of the other places they’d passed by, so it wasn’t like they were lacking for company if they wanted it.

It was only sometimes that they wished that there was someone else who might want to share this type of life with them.

It was a difficult life, always roving and never satisfied, intent on fighting evil for an eternity and prizing the doing of it over normal things, everyday things; they knew that they couldn’t ask someone else to take on a mission so absurd as stamping out all evil in the world, and so they didn’t. Who would be so foolish as that? Not everyone could leave behind all their responsibilities and ties to the world the way they did, passing instead through their beloved one’s lives by chance like a leaf tossed in the wind – nor should they, if those ties gave them joy.

Take their current mission, for example. One of Nie Mingjue’s earlier trips had taken them from Yiling to the Baixue Temple, with the highly unorthodox Wei sect’s equally unorthodox head disciple, Xue Yang, tagging along with them so that they could – in Wei Wuxian’s words – beat some sense into his head, and it had been on that trip that they had met Song Lan, who was thoroughly charmed by the idea of a sect established on principles of brotherhood rather than blood.

He'd also been rather charmed, they thought, by Xue Yang himself, and the interest had been mutual.

(They were getting better at recognizing that sort of thing.)

So Song Lan had gone off with them, with Nie Mingjue dropping both him and Xue Yang back in Yiling, and when he’d gone back again another time they had seemed very happy. But Song Lan had been thinking about his master and martial brothers back at home, and he’d asked if Nie Mingjue would be willing to carry along some letters that he didn’t dare trust to the post.

Nie Mingjue, suspecting a request regarding marriage was involved, had readily agreed. Sure enough, once they’d dropped it off, the entire Baixue Temple had all but exploded in excitement – they’d barely managed to make it out of there in time to avoid being dragged into all the fuss.

And now they were wandering around nearby, shaking their head in amusement at all the noise they’d left behind, looking for something more interesting to do. Some evil to fight, or something like that.

They found both.

“Well, that was exhilarating,” they commended to the cultivator in white that had worked together with them to defeat a rather astounding number of evil creatures in an effort to save some rogue cultivators who’d gotten in over their heads. Nie Mingjue’s reputation was already ridiculous, and was only going to get worse, they knew, but really this was a lot even for them. They wouldn’t have been able to manage it without help.

“It was,” the cultivator said, and smiled at them. “My name is Xiao Xingchen, disciple of Baoshan Sanren. Who are you?”

“Nie Mingjue,” they said. They thought they’d heard of Baoshan Sanren before, but they weren’t entirely sure – they had a tendency to forget things that weren’t that important to them. They thought it might be something to do with Wei Wuxian’s mother –something to do with the immortal mountain, and a doom that fell on those who descended from it…?

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did those rogue cultivators call you Curse-breaker?” Xiao Xingchen asked.

They thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

Xiao Xingchen laughed.

It was a warm sound.

“Where are you going?” Nie Mingjue asked. “I can escort you, if you like.”

“Don’t you have things of your own to be doing?”

“Not really,” Nie Mingjue said. “I want to eradicate all evil in this world, a task that’ll take me a lifetime – and evil can be found anywhere. Why not with you?”

Xiao Xingchen ducked his head. “I don’t have a destination either,” he admitted. “I came down from the mountain because I wanted to help save all the people in the world.”

Nie Mingjue blinked. That was nearly as stupidly idealistic a goal as theirs.

“Well, then,” they said, and smiled. “In that case, why don’t we go together?”

It would be nice to have company, unrestrained by any obligations tied to the mortal world, and in return they could show Xiao Xingchen everything there was to see – introduce him to all the people, eat all the food, fight all the battles. And if in the end it turned out that that doom people talked about in regards to the mountain really was a thing…

Well, they’d see about that.

After all, Nie Mingjue had a bit of experience with curses like that.

[xiyao-feels]

One of the things about JGY's concern for reputation is like

We repeatedly see people take action on what they believe about other people, i.e. their reputation

And I don't just mean stuff like "wipe their fingers because the son of a prostitute touched the teacups they just touched," not that that's not completely horrific

And I don't even just mean stuff like MY's superior in Langya being able to get away with treating him horribly and stealing his credit and such

I mean like...Zixun thinks that WWX cursed him, because that seems like something WWX would do. And everyone thinks that that seems reasonable, because yeah, of course that's something WWX would do, right. And the idea that they should have to provide "evidence" for this is absurd; clearly WWX is the one who needs to prove evidence for his innocence, because the presumption of guilt is so strong, because it seems in line with his reputation. Like—Zixun would never have thought it was, say, Lan Wangji who'd done it, and if he had everyone would have thought that was absurd.

It matters that people thought Wen Ruohan couldn't be defeated; it matters that they thought he could, because if they hadn't, how would Sunshot ever have happened? It matters that enough people believe Jiang Cheng can rebuild the Jiang. Power—well, it's not only a matter of getting people on your side one way or another—look at WWX! Yet even WWX, in the end, couldn't stand up to all the combined mjght of the cultivation clans. Power is still significantly getting people in your side one way or the other. That's what JGY does with the watchtowers, too, he gets people on the side of starting the project—and his reputation matters for that, too; ignoring the fact that he couldn't possibly have gotten there in the first place if he'd had a reputation as a total incompetent, if he had had that reputation, he would never have been able to get the project going.

And it's not—I mean, of course the system is rigged. You can have a good reputation despite or because of terrible behaviour; you can have a bad reputation despite or because of excellent behaviour. And coming from the systems of power is a positive, in terms of reputation; and coming from weakness is a negative, likewise. Because the thing you have to remember is that enough people are buying their own bullshit! That's important! In their minds they're not just taking action because they're powerful and it benefits them; they need a story which justifies themselves. And people will indeed make sacrifices for that story.

Like.... Okay, at the second siege (ch 68):

The man spoke, “I don’t have any revenge to seek upon you. I’m here to fight just for you to understand—as someone who defied the world, who deserves to be punished by everyone, no matter what low-end methods you used, no matter how many times you crawl out of your grave, we will send you back inside again. For nothing but the word ‘justice’!”

Hearing this, everyone cheered him on, their voices thundering, “Sect leader Yao, well said!”

Sect Leader Yao backed off with a smile on his face. Having been encouraged, the others stood up one by one, declaring their determination loudly.

“In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!”

“My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!”

“Not for anything but to prove that there is still justice in this world, that evil will not be tolerated!”

“There is still justice in this world, evil will not be tolerated!”

Every face boiled with heated blood, every word spoken guiltlessly, every person heroic, passionate, filled with indignation and pride.

Everyone believed with no doubt that what they were doing was a feat of chivalry, a deed of honor.

It would go down history and receive millions of praise. It was a crusade of the ‘righteous’ against the ‘wrong’

They believe in this! They really do! And they'll switch stories soon enough but that doesn't mean it's not enough to drive them.

And then you have WWX thinking about JGY, even before he knows about the letter:

Travelling to Dongying, in simpler terms, would be to make a run for it. It sounded quite shameless but Jin GuangYao had always been known for flexibility—if he could soften, he’d never face steel with steel. With its forces, the LanlingJin Sect could surpass just a few sects, but if all of the sects joined together to crusade against it, walking the paths of the QishanWen Sect’s destruction, it was only a matter of time.

The Qishan Wen sect's destruction; he might name that twicefold, under WRH and then the remnants under WWX himself.

Like...no, at the beginning, obviously JGY is not worried about all the clans leading an attack against him, both because pretty much all of society is against him already, and because the level to which he would advance that it would take all the clans allying against him to take him down, as opposed to like—anyone powerful enough who cared to, and you wouldn't have had to be at all powerful to be powerful enough—

(of course this still was ultimately one powerful person who cared to, but it took a heck of a lot more arranging than it would have once—)

Well—that level is a ways out from where he starts.

But the text shows that there can be very physical, material consequences based on what people believe about you! It's not—like, I really do not wish to diminish the psychological consequences of everyone being awful, those are also terrible and undeserved. But he can't actually just...decide not to care, you know? Someone attacking you because they believe you wanted to kill someone you never thought of killing, because they think it seems like you're the type to attack that person—and that was actually supposed to be about Zixun and WWX, but uh now that I put it that way—that's a matter of reputation; that's a matter of life and death.

[nillegible]

It wasn't supposed to hurt him. Ouyang Zizhen had used the talisman before, on his sister and his sister's idiot fiance (Now he was her fiance. Before the talisman, he'd just been a shixiong who absolutely refused to confess his feelings to her). In retrospect perhaps it was unkind. A talisman that was meant to force you to confess what you were hiding from the other person? Jiujiu would have smacked him for even thinking about using it.

Jin Ling would punish himself if it would help, would do anything, to snap the talisman, or to get his stupid uncle to just say his stupid secret, because right now?

Right now, his uncle is choking on his secret, literally forcing it down by strength of will alone while Wei Wuxian flutters around desperately, trying to destroy the talisman and Hanguang Jun plays his guqin. The spiritual energy from the Lan musical technique is so heavy that Jin Ling's skin buzzes with every note, and it's even more concentrated on the three older cultivators, visible threads of it sparking over their skin.

Jiujiu still looks like he is in agony, breaths harsh and ragged, choking, his face screwed up, twisted, awful.

"Jiang Cheng please, please, just spit it out, I don't care what you still blame me for, I don't care just say it," Wei Wuxian begs, but it's no use, his uncle shakes his head no, and Jin Ling covers his own mouth to stifle a sob. He hadn't listened when Jin Ling begged, either.

It's such a simple talisman, so terribly simple a compulsion that it's not meant to be fought or broken. Powered by the strength of the secret and the spiritual energy of the person it was affixed to… Jin Ling hadn't known it was possible to even try.

"Jiang Wanyin," says Hanguang Jun. He has to say it again to get his uncle's attention. "Let me help." His uncle stares blearily for a few moments, then nods again. Abruptly, even the gasping choked off noises break off, and Jin Ling rushes closer, but he's okay. He's still okay, slumping a little and leaning onto Wei Wuxian in exhaustion, but alive.

"Wei Ying," says Hanguang Jun, and apparently that means something to his other uncle, because Wei Wuxian immediately turns his attention back to paper he'd been scribbling on, and continues.

It takes Wei Wuxian a full hour more to break the compulsion, for his uncle to collapse sideways like a broken puppet onto him, and cough up mouthfuls of blood while Wei Wuxian rubs his back. "Thank you, Hanguang Jun," says Jiujiu.

Then he looks up at Jin Ling, who is frozen in place, not sure if he should run or fall to his knees and apologize, and holds out a hand. Jin Ling throws himself forward and hugs his uncle sobbing his apologies. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

“Stupid,” Jiujiu says, voice hoarse, but he doesn’t let go of Jin Ling until he falls unconscious, and Wei Wuxian disentangles him from the half embrace – Jiujiu’s other arm was clutching Wei Wuxian’s robes, tightly – and lifts him into his arms.

“He’ll be okay, right?” asks Jin Ling, a bit pathetically. This was all his fault, after all.

“Jiang Cheng will be fine,” says Wei Wuxian.

When Jin Ling thinks back to this moment, he will realize that Wei Wuxian sounded oddly broken, not just tired.

*

It turns out that Jin Ling had actually ruined everything. He’d been sure that his uncles cared for one another, he’d watched the weird way they held each other at arm’s length but seemed desperate for more, and only wanted to help them out. Whatever it is they were keeping a secret couldn’t be worth it right? Wei Wuxian was back from the dead. He was, not Jin Ling’s mom or dad or anyone else. Jin Ling had only wanted them to make the most of it.

Instead, all Jin Ling does is show Wei Wuxian that Jiujiu has some giant terrible secret that he would rather tear his lips bloody trying to suppress than admit to, and Wei Wuxian seems to give up. He’s cautious around Jiujiu after that, He’s polite. And that only makes Jiujiu angrier and frostier in turn.

This is not what had happened to Ouyang Zizhen’s sister and her husband! (They’d gotten married in the spring, Jin Ling had even gone to their wedding.)

Perhaps Jin Ling should have considered what would happen if the secret was a bad one.

“Would you tell me?” asks Jin Ling. He’s treading on dangerous ground here. Jiujiu hasn’t punished him for the stunt ( “You’re a Sect Leader now, brat, you pick your own consequences,” he’d said, and Jin Ling had assigned himself a lot more make sure Jiujiu is recovering okay missions, whenever he could make the time) and he doesn’t want to remind him to.

“Of course not,” he snaps, Zidian sparking in hollow threat on his finger. At least he scowls? When Jiujiu isn’t busy being angry, he’s been strangely melancholy, recently. Jin Ling hates that, too.

*

It’s Hanguang Jun that Jin Ling approaches in the end. Oddly, he’s the one who’s angriest at him, Wei Wuxian had just waved off his apologies and asked him to introduce him to the maker of the talismans, and never mentioned it again.

“I really am sorry,” Jin Ling tells him. “I want to know how to fix it.”

Hanguang Jun is silent for a long time, and Jin Ling braces himself for dismissal, to be told he can’t, that it was his fault in the first place, he should stay away from Hanguang Jun’s husband.

“It is hard to speak when you are afraid,” Hanguang Jun observes. Which, what? Yes, of course. But why now? Jin Ling nods uncertainly. “Why should Jiang Wanyin be afraid of Wei Ying?”

Oh. Huh? “He’s not, he’s never…” Jin Ling trails off, uncertain. He’d grown up secure in the knowledge that Uncle Jiang would protect him from the evil Yiling Patriarch. That he wasn;t afraid of him. Things were apparently far more complicated than that, but Jiujiu had never been afraid of Wei Wuxian. So why wouldn’t he tell the secret. What did he think his secret would do, that hasn’t happened already? They barely even look at each other anymore! Hanguang Jun just keeps his steady gaze on Jin Ling, waiting for an answer. “Um. He was afraid… to hurt him?” asks Jin Ling.

He gets a slight nod in affirmation.

“You’d think Senior Wei would know all the awful things already,” Jin Ling says, quietly. Wei Wuxian’s life kind of sucked.

“Sometimes, it isn’t the terrible things that hurt,” says Hanguang Jun.

Jin Ling peers at him closely. “Does Hanguang Jun know my uncle’s secret?” he asks.

“No,” he says, and explains nothing further. “And Wei Ying does not.” He looks up then, over Jin Ling’s head, towards the door. “Wei Ying does not need to know, if he trusts Jiang Wanyin.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, lightly. “Who would have thought Lan Zhan would be defending Jiang Cheng some day, hm?”

“He’s right, Wei Qianbei,” Jin Ling hurries to say. “Jiujiu cares for you. He says awful things, he’ll say, ‘You’re a stupid brat, who raised you, I should break your legs’ but he doesn’t mean any of it. Except maybe the stupid part.”

Wei Wuxian laughs again, then drops a hand to Jin Ling’s head. “I know, A-Ling,” he says, the name sounding so fond when he says it. “He’s my brother, and that part of him hasn’t changed.”

“He hasn’t changed,” says Jin Ling, fiercely. Jiujiu is the only constant in Jin Ling’s life, he wouldn’t just become something else.

“He has though,” says Wei Wuxian softly. “He’s all grown up, now. The last time I saw him, he was little older than you. And look at him now, keeping secrets from his shixiong.”

“I don’t believe he ever called you that,” says Jin Ling, because his nose is sour and he doesn’t want to cry.

“No, no, you’re right, he didn’t,” says Wei Wuxian, a little more cheerfully.

*

They put themselves back together slowly. Wei Wuxian makes an effort to reach out again, far more determined this time. With some pointed nudging from Jin Ling, Jiujiu tries his best to meet him half way.

It’s not easy. There is. There is so much between them that Jin Ling will never understand, broken promises and dead family, and debts that can never be repaid.

It shouldn’t be possible, to put all of that aside and start anew. Especially not for Jiujiu, who held his grudges forever, and didn’t quite believe in second chances.

They had once been the twin prides of Yunmeng though.

They don’t care that it shouldn’t be possible.

They do it anyway.

[Inspired by this post because holy shit I love Yunmeng Pride reconciliation fics so incredibly much, but it’s not always about divulging that secret really, is it? I just wanted to write one which is definitely about that secret but also not if that makes any sense. I’m not sure if I succeeded, if I confused you I apologize.]

[vermillioncrown]

Hello im here to cause trouble. Zyx transmigrates into Yue Qingyuan.

hi sorry, i was busy with skule and work

SJ!SQQ would immediately clock an imposter, if Z!YQY doesn’t play it right as they transmigrate

(bad ending SJ!SQQ murders Z!YQY lol)

Uhhhh if Z!YQY manages to sus out what’s happening, and with the limited (and lacking) perspective in PIDW they manage to discover and speculate on a few things

og!YQY barely has his shit together. Sword and cultivation masquerading as whole, perfect façade as sect leader gone in his private quarters, odd trinkets that seem so mundane for a powerful man to keep. Heap and heaps of spiritually potent gifts, boxed in beautiful lacquered wood and ready to go... to whom?

og!YQY isn’t stupid (that was her worst case opinion), just indulgent. ZYX was of an absolutely low opinion of YQY - his behavior was similar to academic advisors that let their shittier students run roughshod over the rest of their mentees, sabotaging, scheming, stealing, all the nasty stuff. And while ZYX despises those students, they also feel it’s the professors’ job (as the ones that selected these students at that academic level) to enforce and impart integrity on those assholes. the SQQ&YQY dynamic is everything that pisses her off

 OG!LBH missed a lot of detail when it didn’t concern his immediate sphere of influence. He noted that SQQ ‘hated’ YQY, but Z!YQY (with a more normal and socialized upbringing than all these trauma-bait characters) starts to understand that it’s almost like mean pigtail pulling. Baffling.

ok ok ok... there’s history there, and holy shit out of all these low iq imbeciles, it’s gonna be the most vicious fucker out there (barring bingge) that will find them out.

Z!YQY grits their teeth, pulls xuan su out, and fakes a qi deviation like their life depends on it (it kinda does). it fucking hurts, like someone stuck an immersion blender inside, pureed their life essence into a bisque, and sucked it out their belly button through a straw. so it’s kinda necessary that Z!YQY stay on qian cao for a bit

“Asking Mu-shidi... don’t tell Shen Qingqiu”

MQF pauses whatever he’s doing. gives Z!YQY a Look.

“Has Shen-shixiong lost zhangmen-shixiong’s favor?” 

Z!YQY tries so hard to not let the ‘o i fucked up’ look slip out.

“This... one has given more thought to--to many subjects,” they answer vaguely. MQF thinks they look pensive and melancholic. Z!YQY is actually tiptoeing through a verbal and social minefield. They look up, and give MQF a helpless smile. “On this shixiong’s sickbed, we can afford to be more candid. Mu-shidi, please tell me your honest opinion?”

using every ounce of their gossip-gathering skills (not that they developed it for evil - it was just fun to know gossip, and sometimes people needed to vent and then they would say the most interesting things -), Z!YQY pries out MQF’s perspective on the SQQ-YQY Issue. it’s not a complete perspective, but there’s more to go on with YQY’s hidden cultivation issues, SQQ’s also unstable cultivation (?!?!?), and the... sheer duration of this.

Since they were disciples.

Z!YQY thinks they know the approach to take now. It’s not going to be resolved by one, grand and impeccable act towards SQQ - rather, Z!YQY is going to have to manipulate their dynamic to evolve.

It starts with a simple, distant greeting. “Shen-shidi,” at the next peak lord meeting, one that Z!YQY called to get an emergency update on the state of affairs due to ‘unexpected health issues’.

SQQ looks like Z!YQY backhanded their face. Anger and annoyance at some routine changing. but when SQQ starts mouthing off, sly and poisonous barbs thrown across the meeting hall, Z!YQY marvels at how obvious SQQ’s apprehension and fear are.

not one peak lord says anything addressing it.

LQG storms out of the meeting as soon as he is able to. “Lacking manners and respect for Zhangmen-shixiong - I refuse to stomach more of your insufferable attitude,” he calls out when others try to slow him down. He nods firmly in Z!YQY’s direction before stomping out and flying off on cheng luan (probably off to kill a thing - Z!YQY could commiserate after bad lab meetings)

the other peak lords try to (not so subtly) keep SQQ from Z!YQY (”Zhangmen-shixiong, perhaps it’s best to let Shen-shixiong cool off for a bit...”), but Z!YQY lingers and the peak lords can no longer play at any polite pretense to separate the two.

SQQ is vicious once out of public eye. between the two of them, he doesn’t hold himself back as the most elegant peak lord of cang qiong, needing only his tongue to devastate enemies - his words still poisonous but with a rawer quality, his body language barely contained and coiled with tension, unafraid to get up in Z!YQY’s face.

‘what,’ Z!YQY thinks as SQQ verbally rips into his character and dignity, ‘the fuck did the original goods do to SQQ? steal his girl? fuck his mom?? smash and dash his sister??? YQY you did fucking something to this guy!’

again, this diatribe is so ... obviously someone lashing out. SQQ wants something from YQY, but a specific something on his terms. And whatever YQY was giving him before was not only what he wasn’t looking for, it actively upset him.

But potentially losing YQY upset him even more. Interesting.

okay, zyx; pull up your meager theater skills! let’s go!

Sad, overgrown puppy hangdog look. Tears barely held back. A soft hold on SQQ’s wrists, restraining him from further jabbing his really pointy finger into Z!YQY’s pecs (ouch).

“Qingyuan does not know what to do, nor is he able to read minds. Shidi wanted me to stop bothering him, and so Qingyuan listened. And now, it is apparent that Shidi wants something else he’s not saying.” timed look up through their eyelashes, even if YQY’s body is slightly taller than SQQ’s. hm. the hunched look adds to the sadboi act. “Qing--I don’t know what to give you if you don’t tell me, Shen Qingqiu.”

SQQ violently yanks himself out of Z!YQY’s grip.

One more blow. “Just... tell--let me...,” Z!YQY stops themselves from reaching out, and turns abruptly. “Pardon this shixiong.” Exit stage right.

-

So here’s the thing.

Z!YQY was banking on dangling the prospect of their changing dynamic to spook SQQ into saying something (and it’s less of a prospect and more of an inevitability). It’s definitely something, with the way that SQQ stalks performatively around Z!YQY, trying to draw attention to the fact that SQQ 1) exists, and 2) is fucking furious with Z!YQY.

Being as gentle-mannered as OG!YQY is exhausting, but SQQ definitely would not react well to ZYX’s true brand of conflict resolution (”Okay, tell me what the fuck is wrong with you/what the fuck is wrong with us because I want to fix it”).

(It pays off when SQQ finally cracks and it culminates into a one-sided fight where Z!YQY is accused of “finally throwing [SQQ] away like unwanted trash, the last black blemish on YQY’s gallant and spotless reputation”

“Shen Qingqiu.” SQQ looks like he’s about to strike Z!YQY himself. “I cannot change the past or stop each other from carrying its burdens. But-” Z!YQY hopes they’re getting the words right, through half-observation and half-speculation, “-you’re still here. How can you call this ‘being thrown away’?”

It’s not immediately resolved, but apparently SQQ takes it as Z!YQY wanting to wipe the past clean for both of them instead of leaving him and his 100 lbs overweight emotional luggage behind. Thus, Z!YQY gets away w never knowing nor using 'Xiao Jiu/Qi-Ge' stuff.

‘Oh,’ Z!YQY nearly says when a scent like fresh forest and cut bamboo invades their nose and they feel tentative, soft lips upon theirs.

SQQ looks offended when Z!YQY doesn’t reciprocate and pulls away, is mollified and made angrily bashful when his hand is pulled in for a kiss and then strong fingers gently lace through his own slender digits.

“One step at a time, one day at a time,” Z!YQY says, trying to keep their voice light and teasing. They tug SQQ’s hand up and back, leading the other peak lord until they’re standing chest to chest.)

-

(Eventually, as the sect leader, Z!YQY pays attention enough to catch SQH.

SQH is terrified of all the changes, but delighted to meet a fellow transmigrator that respects service workers (even if they pull no punches in how they think that PIDW was a malformed, inbred horse that needed to be brought out back and shot).

“Man, how’d you pull the stick out of SQQ’s ass? I thought he’d never get over the whole slave thing and the Qiu household-”

Z!YQY does a spit take. “-the what.”)

[sanjuno]

Meta Fic rides again

I'm a little stuck on how to word something in my Nano 2020 project so I decided to take a break by trying to read “Scum Villain’s Self Saving System” again and failed horribly because I got to the part when Binghe comes back and my interest died a quick and messy death for yet a third time. Someone write me a giant pile of gen-fic and LiuShen AUs to heal my heart.

Here, I’ll start us off:

Spite and Fury (or; PEDW is a hive of Scum and Villainy)

So bitter-old-man!Madara dies of old age after he passes his Epic Revenge Plot over into Obito’s keeping, and the Sage’s knockoff-brand cycle-of-transmigration peels Indra’s chakra out of Madara’s soul - which results in dying!Madara having a screaming ragefit that sends his spirit-and-chakra careening through the void between worlds

At which point shattered-and-fragmenting-more!Madara gets into an altercation with the System and since the System is a little bitch it tosses Madara into the worst possible Fate it can think of (see: PEDW)

Transmigration bullshit and Sharingan fuckery smash into each other in a gigantic clusterfuck of asspulls

Madara is missing bits because Indra’s imprint got ripped out

The Shen Jiu base soul is missing bits because torture and previous abuse of his character by the System

The resulting villain amalgamation is Not Pleased

Instead of landing in the divergence point chosen by the System - aka the Qi deviation fever shortly after Binghe arrives at Cang Qiong Sect – we instead have the jigsaw puzzle mashup of Mads-and-Jiu land in baby-slave Jiu’s body

The good news is Madara and Jiu stop fragmenting because they end up woven together - they’re stuck together as an almost-single person only with two different sets of memories

Character exploration is going to be an EVENT

Also the Madara part of them is really happy with the silky smooth hair

Also Yue “lets-Binghe-kill-him-because-he-thinks-Shen-Jiu-is-dead” Qi is cast is a much better light when compared to Senju “stabs-his-sworn-brother-in-the-back” Hashirama

So Mads-Jiu plays it close to canon for the first few years - the only real difference is that he tags his Jiejie with a tracking seal for after he escapes from slavery - he’s not leaving his ability to find her again up to chance or developing a reputation as a whoremonger if he can help it

When he gets bought by the Qiu is when Mads-Jiu starts being a manipulative little shit like we all know he is

Xanatos-pileup-or-bust!Mads-Jiu basically lets Yue Qi escape alone because he NEEDS Yue Qi to become Cang Qiong Sect Leader for his long-term plans to work properly

So Mads-Jiu warns Yue Qi that if he has to be CAREFUL because cultivating is dangerous and if Yue Qi comes back missing any pieces then Jiu will cut the EXACT SAME BITS OFF HIMSELF

And so Yue Qi is EXTREMELY safety conscious and the life eating sword drama is avoided entirely

Of course he’s also taking longer to reach his initial strength levels than in canon because he isn’t rushing

So there’s nothing like Yue Qi showing up early to trigger a plot divergence alert in the System

</mwahahaha>

Mads-Jiu is more pragmatic regarding Qiu Haitang’s so-called innocence this time around - and so he arranges for her to catch the Creeper Qiu bro abusing and assaulting Shen Jiu

Haitang is HORRIFIED AND DISGUSTED to see what her brother is doing to her fiancé and also TERRIFIED by the fact that he talks the entire time about how sweet it’s going to be when it’s HAITANG under him

The Qiu burn on schedule but Haitang kills her fair share - double Qi deviations FTW!

The system does not notice such a minor change in the background events - Jiu kills the Qiu, burns down their house, and Haitang survives the fire with vengeance raging in her heart

Mads-Jiu kills the demonic creeper that was hanging around because ew no and also keep your hands of Haitang

Again, it’s too close to canon for the System to notice - Jiu killed him in defense of a “childhood friend” so hahaha again

Instead of being used as a stalking horse by an evil master Mads-Jiu runs off with Haitang to track down and rescue his Jiejie

Shenanigans ensue

Afterwards Mads-Jiu “has an idea to help find Qi-ge” by asking around for him at the Immortal Alliance Conference

Of course there are more shenanigans and Yue Qi saves all three by claiming that they’re Cang Qiong disciples - so of course he drags all 3 of them back with him and wibbles at the current Sect Leader until he lets them all join

Still (mostly) following canon! Ha! So no “punishment” events get triggered in the System (which is mostly dormant because the Protagonist isn’t born yet XP)

Qiu Haitang was supposed to join a Sect! Jiejie got sold on schedule! Shen Jiu killed the Qiu and his “first master”! Yue pesters his Shizun into letting his sibling(s) join the Sect in an unorthodox fashion!

But the devil is in the details

And the devil’s name is Uchiha Madara

Jiejie ends up as Peak Lord for Talisman Peak because magic and seals saved her before

Haitang ends up Peak Lord for Hidden Peak because she refuses to be caught unawares by a dangerous secret ever again... also because she’s a mean sneaky bitch and owns it

Having more than one sibling for the Sect Leader to blatantly favour means less wholesale resentment directed at Mads-Jiu as well

However the Jiu part of them has memories from PIDW and also SVSSS - so he knows that shit is going to get horrible once Su Xiyan gets knocked up

Obviously the answer is to seduce all of his fellow peak lords into a glorious polyamorous clusterfuck so as to promote skinship and pack bonding and harmony among the sect leadership

(It worked for PIDW Binghe with his wives and SVSSS Shen Yuan with getting Bing-mei to chill his tits after all and nobody can trip you into bed quite like a shinobi)

And so Cang Qiong’s family aesthetics get rocked so hard that instead of panting after his Shizun baby disciple Binghe decides to seduce his peers...

... and his rivals

... and other sect’s disciples

... and the occasional demon

Mads-Jiu is really proud of his baby demon lord but makes sure not to single Binghe out - instead every Qing Jing disciple gets rewarded and punished at the same time

It promotes bonding! And teamwork!

And prevents the utter destruction of Mads-Jiu’s chrysanthemum via oversized demonic pillar!

There is totally going to be an extra where Mads-Jiu realizes that the average size of a male cultivators pillar is DANGEROUSLY EXCESSIVE

NOBODY NEEDS THAT MUCH PILLAR

Even HIS pillar hasn’t escaped the curse

BIGGER IS NOT BETTER!

How the fuck is he supposed to fight if he can’t even wear pants comfortably!?!?

(No wait come back Mu-shidi this shixiong is sorry it wasn’t mockery it was a perfectly reasonable tantrum that was a long time coming now stop sulking your dick is very pretty let shixiong make it up to you~)

And at some point there will be a wild Bing-ge who appears to cause trouble with a mirror that’s intended to temporarily transform people into the form of their last life - he aims it at the native Bingbing to get him out of the way so he can steal the “nice” Shizun

It would have been Pom time for Bingbing but Mads-Jiu pushes him out of the way

And cue giant explosion of dark Qi as a bonus expansion pack of Madara’s 10-tail Jinchuriki time with powers-and-memories gets downloaded into Mads-Jiu

Mads-Jiu the “Heavenly Demon Demi God” drops several mountains worth of flaming meteor rock on the invaders and then goes on a giant flaming skeleton rampage against Bing-ge

... Bing-ge has changed his mind he doesn’t want this Shizun take him back and oh gods the shrieking

How does he shriek so loud? Doesn’t he need to breathe?

... ok so Shizun breathes fire that’s good to know

Whelps time to bravely run away

And then the amassed sects need to figure out how to calm down the rampaging hell beast

The youngest Qing Jing disciple is brought out and told to cry for Shizun

Actually-a-broody-hen!Mads-Jiu whips around and starts fussing over his baby student

Because baby why are you crying stop it tell Shizun who hurt you and he will BURN THEM TO ASH

The last bit I have an idea for involves Mads-Jiu getting yanked though dimensions because Edo Tensei where he instantly twigs to what is going on and pushes the “righteous cultivator” skin to maximum strength

He shoves all the baby ninja behind him and keeps barrier spamming the zombie army - because ew no stay away from the children resentful corpses

Zetsu is included in the zombie army shall not pass smack down

Zombie!Tobirama is appalled because wut? Wasn’t this supposed to be Madara’s zombie? What is happening?

And I dunno something where he “notices” the resentful energy surrounding Danzo because stealing the eyes of the people you murdered is bad karma

So Mads-Jiu does a spirit thing and the ghosts of the Uchiha rips Danzo apart while screaming about his guilt in full view of the entire Village

And then Mads-Jiu goes home because filial little Bingbing came to get him and he’s not enjoying upending the shinobi social order nope not at all whom exactly do you take him for?

... Yes he’s done and ready to go back to his spouses now he’s sure the ninja have all learned better than to raise living corpses now anyway

The end

=/=

[delicioussshame]

Fuck it, have some wips I’ve been trying to get back to but alas, it’s not going well.

________________________________

“Shizun… It’s Shizun, isn’t it?”

Shen Qingqiu turns towards Luo Binghe, for who else could it be? “Yes.”

Luo Binghe, is, obviously, still as devastatingly handsome as he ever was. He didn’t lose anything by switching from the traditional style to more modern fashion. Maybe, Shen Qingqiu despairs, he even gained from it. Those jeans are literally stopping traffic.

He might miss his long locks though. Short hair suits him, but it wouldn’t feel the same under his fingers.

Shen Qingqiu shakes himself back to reality. The feeling of Luo Binghe’s hair under doesn’t have anything to do with him anymore.  “Binghe seems like he did well for himself.” He has no doubt on the matter. Managing their wealth through time was a challenge, but nothing an array of trusts, shell corporations, insider knowledge and skilled lawyers couldn’t arrange. Shen Qingqiu has been living lavishly for decades. He’s sure Binghe did the same.

“So does Shizun.”

The appellation brings a smile to his lips. It’s so ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe had spent centuries together. In comparison, the time Shen Qingqiu taught Luo Binghe was infinitesimal. The title is meaningless.

Luo Binghe used to say that Shen Qingqiu taught him something new every day. That they could spend eternity together and he’d never learn enough from him.

That was long ago now.

“This must be similar to the era Shizun came from, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.” It’s not quite the same. Some events went differently, some didn’t, but daily life is almost indistinguishable

Investing in Tencent still proved profitable though.

Luo Binghe is wavering, obviously wondering if he’ll dare to say whatever he’s thinking of saying. ��

It’s probably not a good idea. “Well, it was nice seeing you. I’m sure you have things to do.” Shen Yuan departs.

Or tries to. He’s hindered by Luo Binghe’s grasp on his arm. “Binghe. Let go.”

Shen Qingqiu almost stumbles from the shock of seeing Luo Binghe’s eyes swell with tears for the first time in forever. His heart squeezes like Binghe was still his young and eager husband, crumbling under the slightest disapproval. Without his consent, his hand reaches up and wipes those tears away gently, the gesture so familiar it hurt. “A-Yuan, please, don’t go! Give this disciple a day, no, an evening to catch up! I will take him to the best restaurant, pay for the grandest hotel, whatever he wants, as long as he spares me a fraction of his time.”

Shen Qingqiu knows better. He can’t falter here. He can’t let Luo Binghe charm him into a nice dinner where alcohol flows until, both of them tipsy, they fall into bed again and Shen Qingqiu finds himself spending another decade in Luo Binghe’s embrace.

________________________________

Shen Qingqiu pokes the collar half-heartedly.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. The leather is of the finest quality, soft and supple under his touch. Shen Qingqiu is pretty sure he could wear it all day without feeling sore or constricted. It’s white too, so between his skin and his robe, it wouldn’t even clash. It would almost be unnoticeable, really.

By all means, it should be black; Luo’s Binghe color. The point, after all, was to claim what was his. A subtle color was an allowance most weren’t afforded.

Then again, most submissives don’t spend their lives pretending they’re not.

He knows the original Shen Qingqiu didn’t manage to fool them all. Yue Qingyuan must know, and he’s pretty sure Mu Qingfang wasn’t fooled either.

Luo Binghe told him he always knew. That he could always feel something different from his shizun.

It’s not that surprising. Luo Binghe had been written as the ultimate dominant, bending every lady to his will with a word. Even if the version of him Shen Qingqiu had grown familiar with was a lot more masochistic than he had any right to be, he still had an intrinsic knowledge of what made everyone tick, the way the best dominants did.

Maybe that’s why he kept things simple. They both had to figure it out to begin with. More formal scenes could wait. Or, you know, just not happen. Shen Qingqiu is pretty sure that way would have been easier to handle.

________________________________

Mu Qingfang must really care for Liu Qingge’s wellbeing.

It’s the only reason Shen Yuan can think of for his presence every time Liu Qingge shows up for treatment, which is often. Shizun doesn’t shadow him when he’s with other patients. He can take care of most casual wounds and infections thrown his way with ease. The light cut on Liu Qingge’s arm barely merits treatment, to be honest. Not that Shen Yuan is going to tell Liu Qingge of all people that. He’s going to clean the wound, bandage it and send him on his merry way without a word about wasting the time of one of Mu Qingfang’s most senior disciples.

“Here, all done. Liu-shibo should be completely healed before tomorrow.” His cultivation would have taken care of it anyway.

Liu Qingge nods.

“Shen Yuan has other tasks to see to. If Liu-shixiong feels better, he should return to his peak. I’m sure his students missed him.”

Liu Qingge frowns at Mu Qingfang. “They don’t. They’re busy with their training.”

“Then Shixiong should go help them.”

Liu Qingge glares at Mu Qingfang, to Shen Yuan’s bafflement. Maybe they really don’t get along because Mu Qingfang doesn’t trust Liu Qingge not to create trouble everywhere he goes?

Liu Qingge stops glaring at Mu Qingfang and turns to Shen Yuan. “I’ll be back.”

Shen Yuan cringes interiorly. “Liu-shibo should take care of himself better instead of counting on this disciple’s meagre skills.” Please, Liu Qingge, what’s the point of having saved your life if you keep hurting yourself? You’ll be dead again before Luo Binghe turns evil!

Well, he won’t if Shen Yuan has a say about it, but let’s just admit he’s not very confident in his chances.

“Your skills are fine.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “…Thank you.” At least he’s being appreciated?

Mu Qingfang sighs as Liu Qingge departs. “Liu-shixiong isn’t a bad man, but he sometimes doesn’t know how to interact with people correctly.”

“Liu-shibo has never been improper with me.” He can be rude and demanding, but nothing Shen Yuan can’t handle. He’s dealt with disciples wounded in both body and pride that were much more of a handful.

Mu Qingfang stares at him. “Are you certain?”

Shen Yuan is confused. “Yes?”

Mu Qingfang… pats his head? What? Mu Qingfang isn’t known to be very physically demonstrative. “Good. You have a tendency to attract trouble, so I was worried.”

Excuse you, Shen Yuan does not “attract trouble”. Shen Yuan takes order from the System sometimes, that’s different. It’s not his fault he gets caught into weird plot lines all the time!

And why did he got retconned onto Qian Cao Peak anyway? What can he do on Qian Cao that he couldn’t on Qing Jing with the protagonist? Wouldn’t that make more sense?

At least Mu Qingfang is nice enough. “I’m sorry if I cause Shizun problems. I will strive to do better.” Not that he knows how to. He didn’t know anything about traditional medicine when he came here, and he still has to restrain himself when something particularly unscientific comes up. He’s been doing his best to fit in for years, since his very weird transmigration into an original character.

“I know you will. Go back to your duties now.”

Shen Yuan salutes his shizun and returns to work. Injuries in a sect of their magnitude are frequent. Shen Yuan is busy.

____________

“Shen-shidi!”

Shen Yuan smiles at his young shixiong, the protagonist himself, one Luo Binghe. He can’t help it. He’s cute! Shen Yuan can almost see his tail wagging! “Hello, Luo-shixiong.”

“Does Shidi have some time to teach me?”

Shen Yuan cannot say no to those puppy eyes. “Of course. Please come here.” He doesn’t. He’ll have to work late tonight to make up for the time he spends on teaching Luo Binghe.

It’s worth it. Everything he can do to help Luo Binghe is one more step of the “Save the sect from annihilation at the hands of the darkened protagonist” quest.

“Is Luo-shixiong doing well today?”

Luo Binghe shakes his head shyly.

Shen Yuan pushes the subject aside. They both know what Shen Yuan really asked: did Luo Binghe get bullied by his fellow disciples or his teacher today, and does he need Shen Yuan to look over it?

This is how they first met. Shen Yuan saw a young boy with a bruised face and favouring his right side, and instantly offered to help him. The boy tried to say no, but Shen Yuan is Mu Qingfang’s disciple. He has been taught that it is his duty to help those in need.

He had instantly recognised the wounds as the result of a fight, not training. As the healers of the sect, Qian Cao Peak disciples were expected to remain neutral in the context of peak rivalries. He couldn’t protect the young disciple himself, not without compromising his position. All he could do was offer his services.

“My name is Shen Yuan. If you ever need care again, please ask for me at Qian Cao Peak. Can I ask what your name is?”

“My name is Luo Binghe, of Qing Jing Peak.”

It had taken all of Shen Yuan’s strength of will not to gape at this admission. He knew Luo Binghe had arrived at the sect, but he had never thought they would meet like this, and that he would unwillingly create a link between them! Go him!

It had worked too! Two weeks later, Shen Yuan had been pulled from his normal studies by a worried shidi of his, who took him to a Luo Binghe with a sprained wrist, a broken finger and a black eye. Shen Yuan had instantly started to work on it, sending his qi through Luo Binghe as best he could while tending to his wounds.

Luo Binghe had thanked him from his help with a troubling wide-eyed awe that made Shen Yuan want to keep him in his room and feed him nice things. He restated his original offer to help Luo Binghe whenever he needed, which ended up being way more often than even Shen Yuan, who had never liked Shen Qingqiu to say the least, thought decent.

“Does Shidi think he could teach me? This way I wouldn’t be such a burden to him. If only my cultivation was better…”

Shen Yuan’s heart broke. Don’t worry, you’ll be the best cultivator some day! “I’d be happy to help.”

Luo Binghe had lighted up like the sun piercing through the clouds.

(Shen Yuan’s determination to save the sect from Luo Binghe might have switched to saving Luo Binghe from himself.)

Luo Binghe has been showing up regularly since then, soaking up all of Shen Yuan’s knowledge at frankly frightening speed. Hopefully it will be useful to him when he’s alone in the Abyss.

If he took the opportunity to correct a few of his cultivation bases, it’s not like Shen Qingqiu would ever find out.

________________________________ 

Luo Binghe still holds the favor the prince consort bestowed upon him close to his chest at all times.

Even if all the court knew the prince consort could defend his honor himself, it would have been improper. Of course it fell on his knights to defend Shen Qingqiu while the King Yue Qingyuan was away.

Luo Binghe had intended to return the token as soon as he had unseated the misbeliever from his horse, but blinded by Shen Qingqiu’s smile, his hand felt down still wrapped around the embroidered handkerchief.

He needs to return it before its disappearance is noticed. If someone doubted Shen Qingqiu’s loyalty because of his failings, he would seek penance until his death found him.

“The prince consort has allowed you entrance.”

(…)

Zheng Yang lies between them, the symbol of the vow Luo Binghe intends to respect.

Shen Qingqiu is completely still on the other side of the bed, white night clothes covering his whole body.

Luo Binghe prays for the salvation of his damned soul. He cannot betray the king’s trust by befouling his beloved.

[curiosity-killed]

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

part 1 | part 2 |  part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18

The office still looks the same. In the space between blinks or in looking up from the desk, he keeps expecting to see Uncle Jiang behind the desk instead of Jiang Cheng. The dissonance leaves him a little unsteady, like he has to blink away the afterimage to see the present. He doesn’t mention it. No sense troubling shijie and Jiang Cheng with it. It’s not the only ghost lingering in his periphery anyway. “Yu Bujue can take over the upper level cultivation lessons,” Jiang Cheng says, “and Cao Xingtao is strong enough to take over the sword lessons.” He hates this, this calm delineation of his own weaknesses. These have been his duties since he was fifteen, since he passed half their own teachers and stepped fully into his role as Head Disciple. He’s supposed to be the one training their disciples, running them through their paces and building them back up stronger. He hunches a little into his shoulders, fiddling with Chenqing’s tassel. He doesn’t have room to object, he knows. He’s the one who told them how useless he was. They’re only doing what’s right, taking care of Yunmeng Jiang.

“Rumors are going to start if your da-shixiong is passing off all his work,” he points out.

This is why it would be easier if he just left. If he passed out of Lotus Pier in the night, he could just disappear into the shadows, let the resentment dissolve him into ash. Everyone the world around knows how inconsistent and capricious he is now. Sure, there’d be plenty to say about his own character, but at least it wouldn’t come back on Lotus Pier. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with his own shortcomings. “You said you had some ideas about defensive arrays,” Jiang Cheng says. “Defense is a higher priority than teaching a couple lessons.” Wei Wuxian stills, studying his brother. He can’t seriously be suggesting Wei Wuxian use demonic cultivation here in his own home. It was one thing during the war; Jiang Cheng has always been pragmatic, strategic in his own way. They were fighting a war and Wei Wuxian was a weapon, no matter how unsightly or unorthodox. No one looked too hard at the blood on a blade as long as it was pointed in the right direction. “You’d have demonic cultivation in Lotus Pier?” he asks carefully. Jiang Cheng catches his eye and shrugs, uncomfortable, as he looks away. “The old defenses weren’t strong enough. I promised I’d never let anyone take Lotus Pier again. So,” he says. He clears his throat. “Anyway, if our Head Disciple is the grandmaster of a whole cultivation path, it’d be dumb not to use it.” Something warm and unfamiliar uncurls in Wei Wuxian’s chest, more comforting than any embrace. He swallows and gives a short nod instead of saying any of the ridiculous things that press against the back of his throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, I mean,” Jiang Cheng adds brusquely, “and tell me what you’re doing so it doesn’t backfire and kick your ass.” He laughs, and shakes his head. He’s had his ass thoroughly kicked by resentful energy, and he knows it would flatten Jiang Cheng if it wanted to. Still, he’s — touched by the trust. “Alright,” he agrees. “You could also teach some of the classes that don’t require as much spiritual energy,” shijie says. “The early classes on meditation and the talisman courses. It might help with rumors, and it could help stabilize your qi as well.” She sits primly on the third side of the desk, hands folded neatly in her lap and expression solemn. He forgets, some times, that she was there for all the war too. It’s easy to do when the marks of violence are so much starker on Jiang Cheng and the rest of them. He’s grown used to seeing his brother steeped in blood, grown familiar with the cold flat look in his eyes when he kills someone. Shijie isn’t half so obvious. She still smiles for them, still mothers them with that soft love she’s wielded for nearly as long as he remembers. Her scars are subtler, tucked in the tight frown she wears now as she contemplates their next steps and the quiet tears he’s caught her shedding a few times when she doesn’t realize he’s passing by. He and Jiang Cheng were out killing men on the frontline, but she followed in their aftermath, trying to hold together the wounded and dying. He wrinkles his nose, releasing Chenqing. Across the desk, Jiang Cheng’s expression is equally doubtful. “Meditation?” he says. “Shijie, I got kicked out of our meditation classes more than anyone in the history of Yunmeng Jiang.” A smile quirks at the corners of her lips, but the look she turns to him isn’t the fond exasperation he expects. There’s something knowing, something tinged with sadness, instead. “You meditated during the war,” she points out gently. This time, he’s the one to look away. He’s been trying to keep everything tucked away since he came back. It’s one thing for them to know he doesn’t have a golden core anymore, but he will not tell them about the Burial Mounds, about the resentful energy still spooled in the marrow of his bones. It lies quiescent and idle as long as his own emotions aren’t drawing on it, and he can stop that either through white-knuckled control or through the hazy buffer of liquor. He couldn’t afford to loosen his grip during the war, so he’d meditated to fine tune and strengthen his grip. Now, though — now he doesn’t want to have control over it. He doesn’t want to have to spend his every hour painfully conscious of the resentment that moves through him, alive and vicious and waiting. “Alright,” he agrees reluctantly. “Fine.” There’s a small quiet after his concession before shijie reaches out and gives his wrist a squeeze. He glances up to see her offering him a softer smile, reassurance. Releasing his wrist, she turns back to the papers laid out on Jiang Cheng’s desk. “Outside of Lotus Pier, there are still challenges from the other sects,” she points out. “Jin Guangshan’s frothing at the mouth to get that amulet,” Jiang Cheng agrees. Immediately, Wei Wuxian’s hackles rise, hand tightening around Chenqing’s neck. “He can’t have it,” he says flatly. “I’ll destroy it before he can touch it.” He doesn’t know how to explain the amulet to them. It and Chenqing were made of the yin iron sword just the same, but they’re wholly different beasts. Chenqing is his. She hums under his skin, a needling purr, hungry and ready at his call. The amulet is…different. Other. It’s more the sword than anything else and it still retains that presence. He can wield it, use it, but it’s borrowed power. It remembers what it was like to unmake him, and its teeth trace lovingly against the tender skin of his neck. It remembers their promise, their bargain. It waits. “Of course,” Jiang Cheng says, waving off his answer like it was obvious from the start. “But the fact remains the Jin Sect came out of the war nearly unscathed. They’re strong enough to take us down with one hand behind their back. And it’s not like you made a lot of friends in the war who’ll stand up to stop them.” Wei Wuxian purses his lips, annoyed that Jiang Cheng isn’t wrong. “We need alliances,” shijie says. Jiang Cheng sighs, presses a thumb into the ridge of his eye socket like he’s warding off a headache. Wei Wuxian sympathizes. He’d rather fight another legion of cultivators than wade through the tangled net of politics. “Lanling Jin’s already wrapped everything so well around them with Gusu Lan and Qinghe Nie,” Jiang Cheng says. “We should’ve petitioned for Wei Wuxian to be granted sworn brotherhood, too, I guess.” “Me?” Wei Wuxian asks, startled. “But you’re the sect leader, it would’ve made more sense for you.” The look Jiang Cheng shoots him is scathing. “Who took Nightless City?” he snaps back. “We weren’t winning the war till you came. Three months of skirmishes didn’t give us much in the way of victory.” He subsides at that, feeling strangely chastised by the praise. Shijie frowns, her lips pressing together in thought. “It won’t hold the political strength of a sworn allegiance,” she says, “but you were both close with Nie Huaisang before the war. Chifeng-zun has always cared deeply for him. Perhaps you could rekindle that friendship. He could visit Lotus Pier for a time.” Sourness rolls unsteady deep in stomach at the mention of Huaisang. The three of them spent childhood summers together, towed back and forth between Qinghe and Yunmeng depending on the year. He remembers dunking Jiang Cheng under the lake water and Huaisang squealing when they teamed up to drag him into the water. He remembers laying on his belly, feet waving in the air, beside Huaisang as they painted mountains and clouds and each other. He can’t remember the last time he lifted a brush to paint anything but talismans, to create anything but ruin. The last time he saw Huaisang, he’d flinched away, shuddered up a fearful barrier between him and his old childhood friend. Guilt is an uneasy squeeze under his ribs. “And a-Xian,” shijie says, turning to him, “you should talk to Lan Wangji.” He balks, recoiling. “Lan Zhan?” he demands. “What— why?” He hasn’t spoken to Lan Zhan since the war, since the fall of Nightless City. There’s no point to it anymore, he thinks and stubbornly ignores the way his heart twists. Shijie looks at him with endless patience. “I thought you two were close friends and confidants,” she says and doesn’t give him a chance to protest. “He was dedicated in helping you during the war.” “To exorcise the evil out me,” he scoffs, looking away. “So I should tell him everything so that the great Hanguang-jun can come save this feeble man from my own wickedness?” Bitterness scrapes across his tongue, sour speckling his throat. He once thought Lan Zhan was his equal, his match. Now, he thinks of his scowl, his voice coming hard and reproachful and all the times he said that he was committing evil, practicing wicked tricks that would leave him burnt and ruined.    Telling him he has no core, that he is broken in a way no song of healing or clarity can remedy— No. Wei Wuxian knows he wouldn’t be able to stop there. If he let Lan Zhan close enough to tell him that, it would all spill out of him, all this bad blood clotted up in his heart. He would drain himself dry, and there would be nothing left when Lan Zhan inevitably recoiled, horrified and disgusted, and turned his back. He won’t do it. He can’t. He’s too selfish. He can’t have Lan Zhan’s friendship the way he once did, but he’s not strong enough to end it for Lan Zhan, to provide him this easy justification for walking away. He can’t bear to see those dark eyes wide with pity, not for him. He’d rather be hated than pitied. Rather bite back than open up his tender underbelly.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Light on the Door (ao3) (WWX in the Nie sect) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3

-

Nie Mingjue had hoped, somehow, that he would be able to avoid having this conversation. He wasn’t sure how he intended to avoid it – fobbing it off on another family member was beneath his dignity, it was pretty much inevitable to need to happen at some point during adolescence, and no matter how tempting he wasn’t going to up and die just to avoid some awkwardness – he’d still been hopeful.

The time for hope, however wistful and unsustainable, was gone.

“I want to start by telling you that this is a normal development,” he said, trying to keep his tone straightforward and casual, and failing miserably by the expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. “When you start to get older –”

“Please tell me we are not having the sex talk,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice faint with horror. “I have read way too much porn to be having the sex talk with you.”

“I wish we were having the sex talk,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “I could give you a book, tell you to ask me any questions you like, and call it a day. Sex isn’t even an embarrassing subject.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders loosened. “Good point. Okay. So what talk are we having?”

“The secrets of the Nie sect cultivation method talk,” Nie Mingjue said, a little dryly. “Or, as my father called it, ‘when a boy and his saber start feeling strange things about each other’.”

Wei Wuxian’s face suggested that he was, once again, suffering horribly and unjustly from the Nie clan sense of humor. Which he somehow shared, so Nie Mingjue didn’t know what he was complaining about.

“I’m going to ignore that,” Wei Wuxian eventually decided, “in favor of focusing on the key parts of that sentence, namely ‘secrets’. What secrets?”

“Our cultivation path starts in a manner that’s very similar to orthodox swordsmanship paths,” Nie Mingjue explained. “And we are open to guest cultivators and outer disciples continuing to practice that sort of path, but the main part of the Nie sect, especially the clan, practice something a little bit more…unorthodox.”

“Unorthodox,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding as if he were rolling the word around in his mouth to savor the taste. “What do you mean, unorthodox?”

Nie Mingjue decided to just cut to the chase. “We utilize resentful energy from shedding the blood of the evil creatures that we hunt to cultivate our sabers into saber spirits capable of fighting evil semi-independently.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? That’s why I keep imagining that I can hear Suibian? Or, well, not hear…”

“Saber spirits don’t really talk, but they certainly have feelings,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Lots of them, sometimes.”

Baxia calmly radiated a fuck you too feeling at him, but in a fond sort of way.

“Mostly ‘I want to destroy evil’ feelings,” he added, because it was true.

Wei Wuxian still looked stunned, so Nie Mingjue figured it was time to continue explaining.

“In orthodox swordsmanship cultivation, only the most powerful cultivators have swords that obey only their master – but because we cultivate our sabers’ spirits, all of them only obey a single master. Because they’ve been cultivated through the shedding of blood, they’re full of resentful energy themselves; they become far more powerful, but also more difficult to control.”

“Qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian said, jumping ahead at least ten steps in the talk. “Because of the proximity to resentful energy?”

“Not proximity. We cultivate our sabers through our own cultivation – processing the resentful energy and purifying it so that our sabers stay true to our principles. As the saber’s cultivation grows, it becomes more difficult to process it without becoming unbalanced, and eventually, absent a breakthrough, it will result in a qi deviation. It’s the trade established by the founder of our sect: we gain the ability to defeat evil now, but we pay the price later.”

Wei Wuxian obviously didn’t like that, and Nie Mingjue didn’t want to jump straight into the ‘so eventually all men die and some sooner than others’ section of the talk anyway, so he pulled it back.

“You’ve reached the point in your cultivation where you’ve started to sense Suibian’s rage,” Nie Mingjue explained. “It will affect you, making your temper shorter and you more impulsive; you’ll need to keep a careful check on it…as much as is reasonable, anyway. I’m not exactly one to talk about keeping your temper.”

He tried. Very hard, even, and he mostly even succeeded in mastering his temper into more appropriate channels – look, he hadn’t once tried to stab any other sect leader over the table in a Discussion Conference, and he was sitting across from Jin Guangshan, a walking pustule with wandering hands and no morals; Jiang Fengmian, too lukewarm to do anything except apparently whine about how Wei Wuxian preferred to stay in the Nie sect; and Wen Ruohan, his father’s murderer, a narcissist with delusions that he deserved to be emperor of the world, and all around creep.

A few instances of having to excuse himself to go break a table or stab a wall was totally reasonable.

“You’ll go a lot more night-hunts from this point onwards, which will help you shed more blood and strengthen your saber further,” he continued. “But you have to remember at all times that your saber will reflect you; that means it’s your duty to cultivate it properly, to teach it to hate evil and value righteousness. Principles are just as important – no, more important – than increasing power.”

“I didn’t even know resentful energy could be used like that,” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “Isn’t it something we have to fight against? Or is it just – it’s energy. We use spiritual energy for the most part, but we use resentful energy for the sabers…couldn’t we use resentful energy for ourselves, too?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes and flicked him in the forehead. “No. Using resentful energy without a channel is demonic cultivation.”

“So what?” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes bright. “If you can use it –”

“Are you made of steel?” Nie Mingjue interrupted. “Our sabers can absorb and redirect resentful energy without suffering from moral corrosion; even so, they eventually become fixated, obsessive, reckless and undiscriminating, which is why they need masters – someone who can direct them towards defeating evil when they lose the ability to tell the difference themselves. If you use resentful energy yourself, you yourself may become subject to those same issues, and where would you be?”

“Letting you and Nie Huaisang order me around,” Wei Wuxian said promptly. “Obviously.”

“Brat. Do you want to hear the details or not?”

“Of course I do! I’m just surprised that Nie Huaisang didn’t slip up and tell me about it earlier.”

“He doesn’t know,” Nie Mingjue said, and winced when Wei Wuxian stared at him. “It’s not necessary to tell him until he starts feeling Aituan the way I feel Baxia or you feel Suibian, and given the extremely slow rate of his cultivation, that might be a while out yet. He’s happy as he is; why burden him with secrets?”

“Because he deserves to know that you might die?”

“He knows that,” Nie Mingjue said, his mind suddenly pulled back to the terrible months before his father died. “Trust me. He knows.”

Wei Wuxian was quiet for a moment. “He might cultivate more if he knew that he could eventually have conversations with Aituan,” he suggested.

“He might cultivate less if he knew it was increasing his chances of an early death,” Nie Mingjue rebutted. “It’s the cultivation path of his ancestors; he can’t abandon it, but he can waffle and drag his feet. And if he doesn’t form a golden core properly, if he doesn’t learn to defend himself, he’ll die sooner than any qi deviation will kill me and that’s – that can’t happen. You understand that, right?”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said. “Don’t worry, da-ge. I’ll take care of Huaisang.”

Nie Mingjue put his hand on the back of Wei Wuxian’s nape and shook him. “I don’t want to send you off before I go either, brat; don’t get so wrapped up in protecting Huaisang that you forget that. So be careful.”

“I will,” Wei Wuxian said. “I promise.”

-

“So, do you think it’s time to give Wei Wuxian the talk?” Nie Huaisang asked Jiang Cheng as they dangled their feet in the river.

“What?” Jiang Cheng said, turning to look at him. “Are you joking? You have so much porn –”

“Not the sex talk,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Sex isn’t a talk; learning about sex is a book explaining the mechanics, a lifetime of listening to soldiers, and a very enjoyable process, to hear the stories. And to read them, of course.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, flushing red. Nie Huaisang assumed his version of learning about sex had been a little different. “If you didn’t mean that, then what did you mean?”

“Porn can teach you about mechanics, as long as you take it with a solid pound of skepticism about how flexible the human body is and remember where the holes are,” Nie Huaisang said wisely, even as Jiang Cheng put his head in his hands and groaned. “But it doesn’t teach you about feelings.”

“Feelings.”

“Yes, feelings. I-like-you feelings. Like the stupid expression that Jin Zixuan get every time he sees Jiang Yanli practicing saber, or when he hears about those rumors that Sect Leader Nie would snatch her up as his bride in a second if he ever broke the engagement…”

“Why are we talking about feelings?” Jiang Cheng said, not raising his head.

“Because Wei Wuxian is an idiot.”

“Hey, that’s my best friend you’re talking about,” Jiang Cheng said, notably not disagreeing with the assessment. “And other than getting himself thrown out of Teacher Lan’s class because of his stupid theorizing about demonic cultivation, he’s usually pretty smart.”

“I’m well aware. He’s my shixiong,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “And a genius. Doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “What type of feelings talk? The one about not marrying someone who doesn’t love you because you’ll be miserable your entire life one?”

“No, and I’m not touching that with a ten-foot spear, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you,” Nie Huaisang said. “I meant the one about liking people, and how to recognize it when that’s what you’re feeling.”

“Wait,” Jiang Cheng said. “Are you saying that Wei Wuxian likes someone?”

Nie Huaisang closed his eyes. “Oh,” he said, in tones of pained revelation. “That’s my problem. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Hey!”

“I’m going to write to da-ge and tell him he needs to find more smart people to join the sect. Otherwise there’ll be no help for it; my brain is going to end up deteriorating into nothing but mush –”

“Hey!” Jiang Cheng slapped him upside the head, which Nie Huaisang supposed he deserved. “Now stop being a jerk and tell me who Wei Wuxian likes. I didn’t even know there were any girls around for him to like.”

“For the first time in my life, I want my saber,” Nie Huaisang said.

“…what?”

“It’s supposed to give you strength. To support you as you suffer through hardships untold –”

Jiang Cheng pushed him into the river.

Nie Huaisang surfaced a moment later, dripping wet. “Okay, okay,” he said, grinning; it was a hot day and he had been asking for it. “I’ll stop. The reason you’re confused is because the person Wei Wuxian likes isn’t a girl.”

Jiang Cheng looked blank.

Nie Huaisang mimed scissors and pretended to snip at his now soaked sleeve.

“Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng said doubtfully. “But he flirts with girls all the time. Like when we went to Caiyi Town –”

“To be fair, that threw me for a while too,” Nie Huaisang said. “But no one ever said you couldn’t like girls and boys. After all, they’re both really pretty!”

“I guess,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Well, you don’t count. You like boys and girls equally, too.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “Zero interest in either is still equal.”

Jiang Cheng scowled in the way that suggested that Nie Huaisang was right, but shouldn’t say it.

“Look at it this way: if you never end up liking anybody, you can be friends with your future wife and she’d never need to be worried about you liking anyone else.”

“…that’s true,” Jiang Cheng conceded, looking intrigued by the idea. “Anyway, enough about me. We were talking about Wei Wuxian. Who does he like?”

“Lan Wangji.”

“I know that,” Jiang Cheng said with a scoff, and Nie Huaisang had a momentary hope that maybe he’d been the slow one for once when Jiang Cheng ruined it all by adding, “He’s his best friend, too; we all agreed on that. I was talking about who he liked.”

Nie Huaisang covered his face for a moment and sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s start this from the top: how would you like the opportunity to be Wei Wuxian’s only best friend?”

“…what do you mean? How could that happen?”

“I’m Wei Wuxian’s shidi, my da-ge is his da-ge, and you’re his best friend – and Lan Wangji can be his boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see, that – wait. Wei Wuxian likes Lan Wangji?!”

“And he has no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “And that’s why we need to give him the talk.”

Jiang Cheng seemed to be struggling with the idea, but in the end he said, “And I get to be his only best friend afterwards, right?” so somehow Nie Huaisang thought it was all going to be fine.

-

“I need to have a talk with my saber,” Wei Wuxian said, batting his eyelashes at the door guards. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Of course they minded. The Wen sect hadn’t taken away their weapons for their own good – it was a move designed to humiliate them, to weaken them, to show them their place.

But under the circumstances…

“Let him in,” Wen Zhuliu said, his arms crossed over his chest and his face as unmoving as stone. “Once the issue is resolved, he returns to the rest of the group and the incident is never spoken of again.”

The incident being the mysterious snapping of several Wen sect swords during the night when no one was around, which went on for a few days before someone stuck around and realized it was the angry spiritual energy pouring out of Suibian that was causing the issues.

Weird, but, well, everyone knew Nie sabers were weird. The best weapon to use against resentful energy by far, of course, and yao spirits in particular, but still – weird.

Wei Wuxian went into the armory, his heart hurting at all those brilliant shining swords sitting around as if they were merely spares for the Wen sect instead of treasures for their respective masters; there was Sandu over there, and Bichen, and even Suihua.  Only lucky Aituan wasn’t here by virtue of Nie Huaisang having believably ‘forgotten’ it back at home; that had been good – Nie Mingjue had nearly had a fit at the idea of Wei Wuxian taking Suibian anywhere near Wen Ruohan and it would’ve been worse if there’d been Aituan to worry about, too.

They’d had to talk him down for a long while to get him to agree. To convince him that the Wens were not yet so daring that they’d commit murder at their indoctrination camp, that they’d be safe enough even if uncomfortable, that the time could be better spent in finalizing the preparations for the war that they all knew was coming.

Having to hand over Suibian at the beginning, though – it’d been hard.

“Hey, baby,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out to run his fingers down her blade.

Saber spirits didn’t speak the way people spoke, more an amalgamation of raw feeling and sub-human levels of thought, but he liked to think he could hear Suibian saying where have you been you jerk let’s get out of here I want to stab something already.

“No stabbing,” Wei Wuxian said. “And sadly, no getting out of here; we’re stuck. I just got let in here long enough to try to talk to you…since when do you break swords?”

Baxia said.

Suibian didn’t have a word for Baxia, only a feeling like lightning turned solid, a blood-drenched pillar made of stone that could hold up the weight of the world, accompanied by an incredible amount of respect that Suibian certainly never felt about any human up to and including Wei Wuxian – who Suibian seemed to treat more as a little brother than anything else.

A moderately stupid little brother, even.

“Nice try,” Wei Wuxian said patiently. “Baxia isn’t here, so she couldn’t have possibly told you to go break Wen swords.”

Baxia said they broke one of ours.

Wei Wuxian stared. “You can’t possibly mean…old Sect Leader Nie’s? You weren’t even forged then.”

Baxia was. Baxia remembers. Baxia hates them.

“Hey, I hate them, too. Remember me? Your master?”

If it makes you happy.

“Wow, really? Jackass.”

Jerk.

“Pointy object.”

Oblong meat.

Wei Wuxian snickered. “Okay, anyway, you need to stop.”

They are the tools of evil men. If they are not destroyed, they will do evil in the future.

That was Suibian in a nutshell: carefree and arrogant, with a bone-deep sense of righteousness regardless of anything.

They said sabers reflected their masters – Wei Wuxian could only hope that it was true.

He ran his fingers down the flat of the blade again, as much to comfort himself as to calm Suibian.

“I know. But we don’t have a choice right now, okay? I know you’re not very good with thinking about the future, about consequences – I know I’m not very good at it, which means you never had anyone to teach it to you – but right now we need to behave or else bad things will happen to people we love. I told them the breaking of the swords was because of a talisman I carved into you that I forgot to deactivate, so they don’t know about you, but if you keep it up, they might figure it out…”

He sighed. “Don’t make me make it an order.”

Suibian was not happy with him right now, but Wei Wuxian could feel the reluctant agreement.

“Just wait,” Wei Wuxian said. “Soon enough you’ll have all the evil you could possibly want to fight, and more besides.”

Soon, there would be war.

[curiosity-killed]

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18

Lan Wangji is the first sign something is wrong. No, wait — the first sign is the waiting. It’s hours after when Wei Wuxian should have arrived. Jiang Cheng paces, rubbing his thumb against Zidian’s ring. He should have sent an escort — he should have gone himself. He was going to, but then Nie Mingjue said he would visit the settlement and serve as an escort. It made sense, at the time; Nie Mingjue could get a look at the settlement and speak with Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian would have a secure escort back to Lanling. It had made sense and yet… “Where are they?” Jiang Cheng mutters. “They should have arrived hours ago.” “Perhaps they were delayed,” a-jie says, twisting the rattle in her fingers to occupy Jin Ling. Her voice is even and soothing, but there’s a furrow to her brows as if she feels it too. If they were only briefly delayed, they would still be here by now. It’s been too long. So Lan Wangji is the second sign.

He stalks into the hall with a slight pinch in his brow, his steps sharp and hurried. His amber eyes flit over the room, as if searching for something. Jiang Cheng’s seen this expression before, and the memory calls up a tight knot in his chest.

“Wei Ying has not arrived?” he asks. Unease rolls over in Jiang Cheng’s stomach, pulling something deep in his chest over it like a sick blanket. “No,” he says. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Hanguang-jun, has something happened?” a-jie asks. She holds a-Ling close to her chest, the rattle falling still in her hands. Today is supposed to be a day of celebration. The halls are supposed to resound with laughter and cheer. There isn’t supposed to be the echoing silence of worry. Lan Wangji hesitates, and the third sign arrives. Jin Guangyao is flanked by two disciples, hands closed around their swords, and Jiang Cheng’s fingers curl into his palms as Lan Wangji turns to them. A-jie shifts closer to his side, as if seeking warmth or shelter. “Jin Guangyao, why did the disciples my brother brought here follow Jin Zixun from Carp Tower?” Lan Wangji demands. “Where did they go?” Jin Guangyao’s eyes lower. He’s not smiling. It’s strange — Jiang Cheng doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man without a politely pleasant expression on his face. Without it, he looks serious, surprisingly harsh. Jiang Cheng’s hands tighten, nails nipping the skin of his palms. “Hanguang-jun, please remain calm,” Jin Guangyao soothes. “Zixun headed to Qiongqi Pass with the disciples, but he can’t have gone all that far. Zixuan went after him. Presumably—” He’s cut off by a wail from outside. Everyone twists, jolting toward the door as a disciple comes running in. A-jie’s arms tighten around Jin Ling. “Lianfeng-zun, it’s terrible,” the disciple says, sketching a haphazard bow. “Wei Wuxian and the Ghost General attacked Jin Zixun! They’ve killed him and the sect heir.” The rattle falls with a soft thud. The quiet break echoes a jolting crack through Jiang Cheng’s chest. A-jie stumbles, her knees buckling, and Jiang Cheng catches her with an arm around her shoulders. Her eyes are wide, breath shuddering. “Jie,” he says. “Jie?” Tears run down her cheeks, and she shakes her head. She was smiling minutes ago. They were only waiting for their brother just a breath ago. “No,” she whispers. “No. Zixuan.” Unlucky number four arrives as Jin Zixuan himself. He is limp in Nie Mingjue’s arms, robes bloodied and disarrayed. There is a hole gaping in his back. The disciples that land with them seem harried, strained; there’s a tightness to their motions that speaks of fear. “I’ve packed the wound as best I can, but he needs surgery and spiritual energy infusions immediately.” Wen Qing is thinner than he last saw, and her eyes are dark and urgent as she snaps out commands. He can make no sense of this tableaux. Jin Zixuan is draped over Nie Mingjue’s arms; Wen Qing is snapping out an explanation to the physicians who stumble into the hall in their golden robes; they are standing in Jinlintai on the day of his nephew’s celebrations, and blood is seeping across the peony-pale tiles. At some point, a-jie has left his side for her husband’s. Tears are still running down her cheeks, Jin Ling clutched tight to her chest. Jiang Cheng tears his gaze from her to find Nie Mingjue. Blood has soaked into his dark robes from his chest down to his knees. They’re surely ruined. Even the most skilled of launderers couldn’t get the blood from the fine silver embroidery. “Chifeng-zun,” he manages, the words somehow distant even as they pass over his own lips, “what happened?” Nie Mingjue’s jaw tightens, hands clenching uselessly at his sides. “I cannot bear witness to what I didn’t see,” he says, a warning Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand until he continues. “There were thirty-odd cultivators along the pass, Lan and Jin mostly with some Ouyang disciples. Jin Zixun was dead by the time I got there.”

He pauses, draws in a breath. Jiang Cheng is aware, abruptly, that there are fine tremors running through his hands.

“The pass was flooded with resentment and vengeful spirits. Wei Wuxian was—” He pauses, lips thinning, eyebrows tightening in their frown — “unreachable. I suppressed the resentment as much as I could, but his puppet had already attacked. I could only reduce the damage. Wei Wuxian collapsed and the — Wen Qionglin seemed to…return to consciousness.” He stumbles a little over the end, his words faltering around this thing he doesn’t know or understand. Jiang Cheng doesn’t really understand it himself; he’s always been chasing after Wei Wuxian’s grand ideas, grabbing at them like butterfly charms that pass through his fingers. For all his manifold talents, his brother has never been good at slowing down enough to explain his thoughts to the rest of them. Jiang Cheng’s always thought it would get him killed. He never thought it would be like this. Jin Guangshan rages while his son is in surgery. He rails against the evil of Wei Wuxian, reminds them all of his bloodlust and villainy. How he has slaughtered thousands with the Seal, how he has turned his back on society in favor of curs and murderers. He calls on the memory of Jiang Fengmian, his kindness and consideration in raising an orphan son of a servant up to the status of a young master. He lists out Wei Wuxian’s sins: arrogance, selfishness, lack of piety, wicked depravity. Lazy and indulgent as Jin Guangshan has always been, he knows how to rile a crowd. Around them, disciples of every clan are calling for Wei Wuxian’s head. Only Yunmeng Jiang remains silent; Yu Bujue stands at Jiang Cheng’s left shoulder, opposite where his Head Disciple should be, and shifts uneasily. “Jiang Cheng,” Jin Guangshan calls, stretching out a hand toward him, “you have extended generous loyalty and patience to Wei Wuxian in respect of your father and your past companionship. Before tonight, you were the most injured by his callous disregard for the righteous way.” It’s an offering, a promise of safety, and a threat. Up till now, Yunmeng Jiang has quietly stood behind their Head Disciple by brokering terms between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangshan. Up till now, there has been little the Jin sect could do in protest; Yunmeng Jiang is much smaller and weaker than them, but the other sects were uneasy under their leadership. Wei Wuxian has been protected so far by the fractious tensions between all the sects. Now, though, they have a common fight once more. He thinks of Lotus Pier awash in blood, thinks of his parents’ desecrated bodies. There had been tensions between the Wen sect and the others for years before the war; it took fire and death to unify them, turn their blades on the sun. They won’t have their most brutal weapon this time, but after everything, Wei Wuxian is only one man. “As family, we should stand together when outside forces strive to divide us,” Jin Guangshan says. “Wei Wuxian has passed the bounds of forgiveness. We must demand justice together.” If he refuses, he will be an enemy to all the sects. He’s already here in Koi Tower, surrounded. Even if they do not place him in the dungeons, he will be imprisoned; even if he were to leave but Yanli remain, he would be trapped. And without him, what of Yunmeng Jiang? They’ve only just stepped beyond reconstruction, only begun to build back their strength. Jin sect alone could take them. With all three sects allied, there wouldn’t even be hope of a fight. “Yunmeng Jiang appreciates your guidance as always, Jin-zongzhu,” he says. There is to be a pledge conference with all the sects to show their alliance against this common evil. A siege of the Burial Mounds, after, to purge the world of the Yiling laozu’s evil. Lieutenants are sent to each sect’s seat to gather forces. “Zongzhu,” Bujue says when they’ve stepped away from the rest, “what about da-shixiong? Are we really going to fight him?” No. Yes. What choice do they have? Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose, digging his thumptip into his brow ridge. “Send an arrow when it’s safe,” he says. “Don’t let it be seen.” At least it’ll be a warning, if Wei Wuxian is able to read it. He pushes that thought away, even as it spreads ink-like through his mind. Nie Mingjue said Wei Wuxian had collapsed. Who knows what’s waiting for them in the Burial Mounds. Who knows if his brother is even— No. He cuts the thought off ruthlessly. His brother is alive. He has to be. Wei Wuxian summoned legions of the undead during the war and walked it off; what is one paltry ambush? Wei Wuxian is alive and he will get their warning and then — and then— And then what? Will they smuggle him off the mountain? Will they turn their blades on their allies to protect him? What can they do?