#And traveling ALL THE WAY to Gusu to see him????? Embarrassing! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Post-canon, Nie Huaisang drops the 'Headshaker' facade and his disciples stop pretending they think he's incompetent, and a bunch of Sect Leaders who are used to being able to step all over Qinghe Nie are suddenly faced with a cunning, brilliant leader who Takes Absolutely No Shit.

Associates - Part 1 - ao3

Untamed verse

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang said, so shocked that he didn’t even raise his fan in front of his face. “You want me to what now?”

“Help,” Lan Wangji said. He was seated across from Nie Huaisang, as stiff-backed and formal as if they were having a discussion conference banquet rather than a meal in Nie Huaisang’s private quarters in the Unclean Realm.

“Yes, I gathered as much,” Nie Huaisang said. “Two questions: Help with what? And – why me?”

Lan Wangji’s brow wrinkled minutely, which for the Lan sect suggested a state of extreme stress. “Brother has entered seclusion.”

“I know that,” Nie Huaisang said, firmly ignoring the niggling feeling of guilt. If Lan Xichen hadn’t wanted to be completely wrecked as collateral damage in Nie Huaisang’s revenge plan, he shouldn’t have tried to take Jin Guangyao’s side even after he knew what he’d done.

His da-ge deserved better than that. Especially from Lan Xichen.

“I have been appointed Chief Cultivator,” Lan Wangji said.

“I know that, too,” Nie Huaisang said. “I sent you a present in congratulations, didn’t I?”

Lan Wangji gave him a dead-eyed look, which meant he’d received it.

“I thought you and Wei Wuxian would enjoy it,” Nie Huaisang protested, hiding his twitching lips behind his fan. His favorite, as always – he might switch them out on a regular basis, but he always came back to this one, the one his brother had given him long, long ago. It served as a reminder that he should trust no one, which was a concept his stupid heart had a tendency to otherwise forget. “I understand that appropriate preparation is a very important part of the proceedings –”

The dead-eyed looked turned into a glare, and Nie Huaisang coughed into his hand and stopped talking about the jade phallus and jar of lubricant that he’d sent to the Cloud Recesses in a discreet package under the guise of a congratulations gift.

He really hoped he was lucky enough that Lan Wangji had opened it in front of other people, but sadly he suspected the other man knew him too well to do that.

“Speaking of which, have you married him yet?” he asked, ignoring his hurt at not having been informed. He hadn’t expected an invitation to the happy event itself, of course; Wei Wuxian had made very clear what he’d thought about what Nie Huaisang had done – don’t associate with evil. There was a reason that Nie Huaisang had carefully returned to referring to Wei Wuxian by name, rather than casually. But not even to receive a letter informing him of it having happened…?

“I have not,” Lan Wangji said. When Nie Huaisang goggled at him, disbelieving, he shifted minutely in his seat and said, “He wanted to travel. I – could not.”

“Well, of course you couldn’t,” Nie Huaisang said blankly. “You’re the Lan sect heir. If your brother goes into seclusion, then responsibility for managing your sect falls to you – and of course you were just named Chief Cultivator – wait, are you doing both jobs by yourself?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

Nie Huaisang had a momentary feeling of sincere pity, and then the true horror sunk in.

“And you’re asking me to help you?!” he yowled. “Hanguang-jun! You can’t be serious! Don’t you know what everyone says about me? Me, the hapless ‘I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know’, the one they all call the Headshaker?”

“I know what they call you,” Lan Wangji said, stoic as ever. “I also know what they said about Wei Ying, and about Lianfeng-zun. There is not much gain in listening to what people say.”

“I don’t think those are comparable situations,” Nie Huaisang complained, but even he had to admit it was a bit of a weak response.

“No?” Lan Wangji said. “Then you are not the man who drove Lianfeng-zun into a corner with no route of escape?”

Well, when he put it that way.

“That doesn’t mean I know anything about running a sect,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “Sure, I’ve managed, but I had –” Er-ge and san-ge do it. “- help.”

“They each had their own sects to run,” Lan Wangji pointed out in return. “You must have done much of it yourself.”

“But –”

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, and Nie Huaisang blinked. Lan Wangji hadn’t called him as informally as that in years, and certainly never since he became Sect Leader. “Please. As a favor to me.”

Nie Huaisang pursed his lips and looked down at his plate, reaching out and playing with his teacup.

It was a low blow, that.

Pity for Lan Wangji that low blows didn’t work on him anymore.

“We used to be friends, once,” Nie Huaisang said, not looking up. “A long time ago – do you remember? I was seven, you were eight, it was right after my father died. I slept in your room.”

He’d had screaming nightmares back then, and they were worse when he was alone. It hadn’t been just about his father, either, but his brother, the memory of fear in his eyes and bruises on his face, the desperate way he’d pleaded for Nie Huaisang to agree to go to Gusu just for a little while, the persistent worry about what was happening back home once he’d agreed, the haunting thoughts of losing him in the same way he’d lost his father…

Lan Wangji hadn’t been much of a talker back then, either, but he’d crawled into the cot they’d set up for Nie Huaisang in his room and had held his hand, right up until he’d passed out like clockwork at nine. His steady breathing had reminded Nie Huaisang of his brother, calming his nerves, and eventually he’d started confiding in him. Telling him all his fears – the secrets he’d guessed about the Nie family cultivation he only half-understood – the qi deviations –

“I remember,” Lan Wangji said.

“Later, when I came back to the Cloud Recesses to learn for the first time, I was so excited to see you again, and so disappointed to find out you were preparing to go into seclusion. When I snuck over to see you, you chased me away – and when you came out, you only spoke to me long enough to scold me about how I wasn’t obeying the rules properly. I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

Lan Wangji said nothing. He probably had been. With the benefit of hindsight and age, Nie Huaisang could even understand: adolescence was such a prickly age, and little things seemed so important.

“I was angry at you back then,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very angry – but all I did was start treating you coldly, calling you Lan-er-gongzi instead of Lan Zhan, waiting for you to remember that you liked me. And then the next year we had all those adventures together, you and me and Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, and of course we were close again during the war. You remember, I’m sure, how we used to stay together every time you came back to the Cloud Recesses or visited the Unclean Realm, how I couldn’t do anything for the war but worry, couldn’t do anything but keep you company, but you said it helped to lift your spirits before you headed out again. I even sent you letters after what happened with Wei-xiong– with Wei Wuxian. The siege of the Burial Mounds. I knew how close you were, and I wanted to comfort you if I could...but you never responded to any of them.”

He shook his head and rolled the teacup from one hand to another.

“And then you didn’t show up when my brother died. In seclusion again! For years and years! The honorable Hanguang-jun, always thinking about his cultivation; what a good seed you are, a pride and joy to your sect. Just like everyone always said.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Lan Wangji said. His voice was very quiet, a little hoarse. “I was not well.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “No one ever explained, either then or thereafter. And no one else ever guessed ‘busy mourning the death of the love of your life’ was the reason, either, so I don’t know why you would expect me to.”

“You never spoke to me again,” Lan Wangji said, his jaw and throat working. He’d tried, a few times, but Nie Huaisang had looked through him as if he wasn’t there, twittering like a foolish little bird with only the most formal of addresses on his lips. “Only in passing, when you came to visit my brother.”

“As I’m sure you’ve realized by now, I’m very good at holding a grudge,” Nie Huaisang said, and put his teacup down. He knew perfectly well that he was being unfair, that he was being cruel and selfish and completely disregarding the many ways he had undoubtedly been unfair to Lan Wangji in turn through lack of consideration or otherwise. But he was cruel and selfish, his mission this past decade and more evidence enough of that, and that old pain of abandonment had lingered far past the point of reason. Still lingered, if he was being honest. “I’m sorry that you’re struggling, and for my part in it, but you’re going to have to do better than please.”

Lan Wangji was quiet, bowing his head. After a time, he said, “I was in recovery during that period. I did not learn about what had happened to your brother until – until much later. It was kept from me so as not to disturb me as I was healing...I can show you the remaining marks, if you wish.”

“That’d be something,” Nie Huaisang said, because he was a petty person like that. Because that had hurt back then, thinking that Lan Wangji was ignoring him even at that most desperate moment, hurt more than anything.

Well. Not more than anything.

Not more than losing his brother. Than finding out the truth about Jin Guangyao.

Than realizing he was the only one who could right this wrong, and that he would have to do it alone.

“If things had been different,” Lan Wangji said, and he did not lift his head. “If things had gone – otherwise. Would you have trusted me?”

Now it was Nie Huaisang’s turn to bow his head. If he had had Lan Wangji, had trusted Lan Wangji…yes, things might have gone very differently.

For Lan Xichen, at least.

“Perhaps,” he said, unwilling to commit himself but knowing that his mere lack of response said everything. “But enough about the past. Far more importantly - what about the future?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re right. I did learn to run a sect, at least somewhat. I may not be very good at it, but I know all the things a sect leader ought to know – all the secrets, all the gossip, how to commit to nothing while making people think you’ve agreed, who should sit next to who and who shouldn’t, what’s a trap and what isn’t, all the things you’ve never needed to care about it. Your brother made sure I knew it all, and told me many stories about things he was doing to run your sect to use as examples. As you suspected, I can probably help you, even if only in figuring out how to appropriately delegate the work.”

“But?”

“I may not be a very good custodian of it, but my sect is the only thing I have left,” Nie Huaisang said. “And you may have once been my friend, Lan Zhan, but now you’re the Chief Cultivator. Do not associate with evil. Am I to expect a freeze in trade relations? A subtle ostracization of my disciples? Will I be invited to the discussion conferences, or will people turn their faces away from me?” He shrugged. “You don’t get to play hot and cold with me anymore. You want my help, you stand by my side. No more judgment.”

Lan Wangji was frowning. “As Chief Cultivator, I must be impartial.”

“Just like the last three were? Wen Ruohan, Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangyao…oh yes, impartiality is truly intrinsic to the position, with such grand examples in your predecessors,” Nie Huaisang said archly, and this time he did open his fan. Trust no one. “I’m not asking for favoritism. Equality with all the others, and your support if someone tries to criticize me or remove me, especially for anything to do with Jin Guangyao; that’ll be enough. Well?”

Lan Wangji considered it for a long time.

It wasn’t anything personal – Lan Wangji was a contemplative sort of person – so Nie Huaisang didn’t take offense, just waited, occasionally moving to eat a little of the food.

“Very well,” Lan Wangji finally said. “I agree.”

Nie Huaisang was ready with his next question, and also a bite of some grilled vegetables, which he swallowed down before speaking. “And if Wei Wuxian doesn’t?”

Lan Wangji’s hands tightened around his knees. “I have said I will defend you. I have not named exceptions.”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, then smiled and put some of the vegetables into Lan Wangji’s bowl. “Eat up, Lan Zhan! We’re going to have our work cut out for us.”

Lan Wangji nodded. He seemed resigned.

“If you want, I’ll even deal with Jiang Cheng for you,” Nie Huaisang said. “But it’ll cost you.”

Lan Wangji tilted his head to the side, as if it could hide how much his eyes had brightened in anticipation of that particular burden being taken off his back.

“Remember when we were kids and I asked you to do my copying for me?”

A slow blink. “You want me to do paperwork?”

“I want you to do so much paperwork,” Nie Huaisang said emphatically. He even waved his hands around in emphasis, he meant it so strongly. “I’ll tell you what needs to be done and who needs to do it, I’ll show you how to keep the smaller sects in line and how to manage conferences, but if I never see another memorial in my life it will be too soon..!”

“I think,” Lan Wangji said dryly, “that we will be able to devise an equitable division of labor.”

“Old friend!” Nie Huaisang trilled happily, holding out his arms.

“Do not hug me.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t be like that –”

“Do not hug me.”

“Don’t be so cold! How are we going to get Wei Wuxian back by your side if we don’t put some effort into making him jealous?”

“��explain.”

“Well, the way I see it –”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #associates #wantonlywindswept

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westiec · 3 years ago

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June 4: ace Wen Ning

making a home with your immortal QPPs and finding words for yourself

read on ao3

🖤🤍💜

Wen Ning never really had the words for what it was he felt for Wei Wuxian.

Fascination, certainly, from the first time he'd wandered over to where he was practicing archery, complimented his form, made a few suggestions, and then scampered off again like a whirlwind. Loyalty—outsize in its intensity, he could admit later—that made him want to help him, even against his own clan, when Lotus Pier had been captured. Devotion, gratitude, and a little hook of connection in his gut, after Wei Wuxian had rescued his family and raised him from death. There was just a draw to him, before he'd died and after, that made Wen Ning want to be by his side.

A-Jie had asked, once, in those grey days at the Burial Mounds, whether he loved Wei Wuxian. He thought about a little bundle she had carried close to her heart that was gone, about the way Hanguang-jun had looked at Wei Wuxian as he was leaving, and he shook his head. "Not like that." She gave him a sad sort of smile, then, and he wished he had better words to explain.

When Wei Wuxian returned, he felt like a lodestone, something inside Wen Ning settling even before Wei Wuxian removed the nails from his head and gave him back to himself again. Staying close after that was a choice, one Wen Ning again made gladly. He laughed to himself when Hanguang-jun, drunk and frustrated, chased him off, and he wondered how long it would take Wei Wuxian to see that for what it was.

It was Hanguang-jun—Lan Wangji—who gave him the jade token later, who told him that he would always find welcome with them.

(He thought LWJ meant in Gusu, at the time, and was warmed down to his cold bones when they began to travel, and Wen Ning realized what—who—the token was really keyed to. Lan Wangji, Wen Ning thinks, might have been the first person who understood.)

The thing about immortality, however you achieve it, is that time passes slowly and quickly all at once. People change and people stay the same, and they invent new words, new meanings, new ways to understand themselves. Wen Ning has traveled the world, has spent years with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and years apart, comfortable in the knowledge that they were all in the world and that Wen Ning would find welcome when he looked for it.

It's Wei Wuxian, sometime after the turn of another century, who offers him words. "I saw this online," he explains, still as eager and excited by the chance to share what he knows as when Wen Ning first met him, "and it made me think of you, kind of, and how you've always explained how you feel about our whole" —he waves his hands to indicate Wen Ning, himself, Lan Wangji, the pairs of them and the three of them and all of their history— "thing. How I didn't break anything when I brought you back, because you still felt like how you'd always felt about me." He taps his nose, still cutely embarrassed after all these years. "Anyway, so! There's a whole bunch of people who feel a similar way and they've got words for it—asexual and aromantic and demi and grey and—"

He pulls out a little box and slides it across the table to Wen Ning. "Anyway, some of them wear these. You don't have to, of course, but I thought you might like to—it even fits your whole friendly goth aesthetic—and it could even be, if you want, kind of a symbol of us, too."

Inside the box is a plain black ring, shiny and simple and elegant in an understated kind of way, much like the wedding bands Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had begun wearing a few decades before.

"Middle finger of your right hand," Wei Wuxian says, and Wen Ning slips it on. He smiles at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji—he's had a lot of time to relearn how.

He visits the forums WWX had found, talks with people about kinds of attraction, words like "squish" and "queerplatonic." He adds more purple to his wardrobe.

He occasionally sees others with a ring like his and exchanges a little nod of understanding. They're not alone.

🖤🤍💜

Pride Month Snippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #westie writes #wen ning #ace wen ning #ace positivity #queerplatonic relationship #wei wuxian #lan wangji #the untamed #mdzs #ace ring

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besanii · 4 years ago

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40 and/or 96 for Wangxian for the prompt meme? ^_^

#40 - “Okay, I didn’t see that coming.”

The crowd of people clamouring outside the gates to the Cloud Recesses is growing restless and the two disciples stationed to guard the area look thoroughly harassed. When they catch sight of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji descending the winding mountain path toward them, their harried expressions give way to an almost desperate relief; they bow deeply to them both and chorus their names in greeting.

“What is going on?” Lan Wangji asks.

The disciple on the left bows again, short and quick, before replying.

“Hanguang-jun, word has spread about yourself and Mo—Wei-qianbei,” he hastily corrects himself, “returning to the Cloud Recesses. They have come to pay their respects.”

“Pay their respects?” Wei Wuxian echoes, confused. “Did I hear you correctly? Are you sure you don’t mean collecting debts? Or seeking vengeance? I’m pretty sure we didn’t forget to pay off our tabs while travelling, Lan Zhan—your Gusu Lan pockets are so deep, after all—so it must be vengeance! Ah, I guess now that I’m alive again, people finally have someone to go after—”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says reprovingly. “Do not jest.”

The two disciples exchange glances before the second one bows to Wei Wuxian directly.

“Wei-qianbei did not hear incorrectly,” he says. “They have all come to pay their respects to you. But as Wei-qianbei is not an official member of Gusu Lan, Xiansheng said we should only take down their names so that Wei-qianbei may handle them personally.”

Wei Wuxian rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh as he accepts the scroll from the disciple. Their notes are meticulous, as is to be expected of a Gusu Lan disciple, listing not only the names of the visitors, but also the place of origin, their affiliated sect, and their reason for calling.

“Ah, sorry to cause all this trouble for you both,” he says, scanning the long list quickly. “I’ll handle it from here—”

“Yiling Laozu!” a man calls out from somewhere on the other side of the gate. He breaks free from the crowd and charges towards them. “Yiling Laozu! Wait!”

The two disciples cross their swords in his path to prevent him from crossing the gate; Lan Wangji instinctively steps in front of Wei Wuxian, one arm thrown out to shield him from view. But instead of attacking, the man throws himself onto his knees and prostrates himself on the ground. Everyone stops in their tracks, baffled.

“Yiling Laozu!”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Please accept my son as your disciple!”

Wei Wuxian stumbles half a step and almost drops the scroll in shock.

“What?” He must have heard wrong. “What did you just say?”

The man presses himself closer to the ground and repeats his plea: “Please accept my son as your disciple!”

“Uh…” Wow. “Okay, uh…I didn’t see that coming.”

Wei Wuxian had always prided himself on his intuition and on being observant. He can tell the exact moment when a night hunt is about to go terribly wrong, and knows instinctively what needs to be done to salvage the situation; he can tell when someone is lying to him, or hiding something, and usually knows how to coax, pry or force the information from them.

But this...this is beyond him.

He glances over at Lan Wangji for help, but Lan Wangji looks equally baffled by this sudden turn of events. Him? Take a disciple? They do know who is he right? They’re not mistaking him for someone else?

“Yiling Laozu saved my son’s life,” the man continues. “Without your help, my son would be dead! A life debt must be repaid. He’s slow-witted, but he will work hard and do his best to learn from you. Please allow him to serve you as your disciple!”

Wow, he really isn’t kidding. Wei Wuxian definitely didn’t see this coming. He vaguely recognises the man—he and Lan Wangji had exorcised a demon in Guilin that had been possessing a young boy to feed on his yang energy. It had only been a day’s work or less, nothing that would be worth sending his son to serve a former criminal like him, no matter how much his reputation has been rehabilitated in the past year.

He looks up at Lan Wangji.

“Thank you for your kind words, sir,” he begins slowly, still looking to Lan Wangji for reassurance. The corners of Lan Wangji’s mouth soften. “But the credit for saving your son was not mine alone. And I have no mind to accept any disciples, now or ever. I only cultivated this path because there had been no other option available to me at the time, born out of desperation. I would not recommend it to anyone if they had a chance at something else."

The man looks crestfallen as Wei Wuxian steps around Lan Wangji to kneel beside him on the ground. He helps him up with a hand under his elbow.

“If you are really looking for a way to repay us for this life debt, then you should set your son on the path to help others.” Wei Wuxian claps him on the shoulder. “You have the chance to walk that righteous path. You should take it.”

A small, wistful smile flits across his lips and the light in his eyes dim; it is gone almost as soon as it appears, and he’s stepping away again to rejoin Lan Wangji. The man remains kneeling on the floor looking up at them both, wide-eyed with wonder, as if he’d been struck by a revelation. Wei Wuxian clears his throat and looks away with an awkward grin.

“Anyway, sorry to disappoint you after you’ve come all this way,” he says, voice coming out a little louder than intended. “I would offer to write you a recommendation letter to join another sect, but I’m afraid my reputation hasn’t improved that much—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lan Wangji says firmly. He inclines his head at the man. “If you do not mind, Gusu Lan will accept your son as a disciple.”

The man’s jaw drops.

“Xianshi...” He throws himself onto the ground, pressing his forehead to the ground over and over again in thanks. “You have blessed our entire family by accepting my son into Gusu Lan. I assure you, he will work hard! He will not disappoint you!”

Wei Wuxian catches Lan Wangji’s eye and smiles, warmth filling his chest.

“I’m sure your son will do very well,” Wei Wuxian tells the man brightly. “He will have the best teachers the cultivation world has to offer. He’ll learn much more from them than he would have from me!”

“Wei Ying, too, is an excellent teacher,” Lan Wangji says immediately. “The insight he has to offer is invaluable.”

Wei Wuxian’s face grows hot. “Aiyo, Lan Zhan, don’t be so embarrassing!”

Lan Wangji shakes his head with a noise of dissent, which tickles a laugh out of Wei Wuxian. The warm feeling in his chest expands to fill his body, tingling from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, before settling down into a deep sense of contentment. When he meets Lan Wangji’s eyes again, he finds that same joy mirrored on his face.

Ah, he thinks quietly. So this is the feeling of coming home.

buy me a ko-fi!

#eirenical #asks #writing meme #mdzs #wangxian #my writing #lan wangji #wei wuxian #post-canon #gen

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Futures Past pt15 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Unclean Realm after his failed year in Gusu

The Unclean Realm, usually a noisy place, had fallen nearly entirely silent as most of the disciples and quite a few servants gathered around its gate. They were all careful to keep a respectable distance from the gate in question, in case things went wrong, but still did their best to be close enough to get a good view. Not that it was particularly necessary to be near enough to hear what was happening. Nie Mingjue had a voice that carried, and it only got worse when he was angry at his brother.

Which he currently was, of course, and for good reason everyone thought. After all, Nie Huaisang had just returned from his time studying in the Cloud Recesses, though he’d apparently done little learning there.

But it wasn’t his failure to pass his exams that had his brother so upset. It was more the fact that on the way back home, Nie Huaisang had decided to leave on his own and disappeared for well over three weeks. The other Nie disciples travelling with him had just found a note on his bed one morning announcing that he didn’t feel like going home yet. They had panicked and sent an urgent message to their sect leader, who had also panicked and launched a search for his brother, in vain.

“You could have been kidnapped!” Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother, who had arrived that morning, looking as careless as if he’d just been gone for a shichen on an errand. “You could have been attacked by bandits! Did you even have your sabre with you?”

“Of course I did!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, patting the weapon at his waist. “What was I going to do, walk around?”

“It would have been safer than flying in your case! What if you’d fallen?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. His cultivation had actually improved quite a bit while he was in the Cloud Recesses, if only because the Lans didn’t let him avoid training as much as his brother did. He was even quite close to forming a golden core, something he’d more or less given up on, and for which he hoped he’d get praised, whenever his brother calmed down enough to hear the news. So while he wasn’t the strongest of flyers, he was doing much better than he used to.

Not that Nie Mingjue was in any mood to hear that.

“I was careful, I swear,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re always saying I should be more independent anyway!”

“Independent, not reckless! And who’s that?” Nie Mingjue roared, pointing at the person next to his brother.

That had been the question on everyone's mind since Nie Huaisang had arrived a little earlier, a boy much younger than himself walking at his side, but so far Nie Huaisang had avoided answering.

“Oh, that’s Xue Yang,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced, patting the young boy’s shoulder. “I picked him up along the way. You should test him, I really think he’s going to be a great cultivator someday! Xue Yang, that’s my brother, say hi to him?”

Xue Yang threw Nie Mingjue a very unimpressed look, and gave a half-hearted bow.

“It's an honour to meet Nie zongzhu,” he said with some uncertainty, probably wishing he hadn't been so close while Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother like that.

“Huaisang, where did you find that child?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“It’s a long story,” his brother said.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and waited for the story in question to be told. Nie Huaisang just smiled at him.

“Are you going to tell me how you found him?” Nie Mingjue insisted when nothing more came.

“No. It’s a long story, but it’s not very interesting. He’s here now, though, so that can’t be helped.”

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue turned his attention to Xue Yang, as if hoping he might get an explanation there. The young boy just gave him a wicked smile.

“He said I’d get candies if I came,” Xue Yang said. “Am I gonna get them now or what?”

Nie Mingju’s eyes snapped back to his brother.

“Huaisang, did you steal a child by offering him treats? You realise how bad that looks?”

“It’s not stealing when it’s a person,” Nie Huaisang protested, nervously twisting his fingers for a moment before hiding his hands behind his back. “And I think children count as people, not things. Right?”

“Fine. Did you kidnap a child?”

A little embarrassed, Nie Huaisang hunched his shoulder and looked down at his feet without answering. A mistake, it turned out, because Xue Yang took that as his cue to explain things.

“It’s okay, I don’t have a family anyway,” Xue Yang announced. “He asked before taking me with him, to make sure I’m an orphan. And your brother’s nice. He took me to all those nice inns along the way, and every time he made sure I had food and a bath. He said the baths were very important.”

Nie Mingjue glared at his brother who winced because that could indeed be misunderstood. Which was exactly why Xue Yang had said it like that, he suspected. But really, Xue Yang had been in a pretty bad state when Nie Huaisang had picked him up. His hair was nearly stiff with dirty, he’d recently bled all over his clothes, and he had lice, and...

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to tell the story,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. He had already come up with a sanitised version of events that he could actually share with his brother, but it still annoyed him to not be trusted more. “So, I wanted to visit Kuizhou, you see? Everyone says the landscapes around it are so gorgeous, and so melancholic, and they are by the way. I want to go back to paint and write and…”

“Focus, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, right. So, I went there,” Nie Huaisang said, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “And I was visiting and stuff, and then I see a grown man punching and kicking a kid! Just because the kid had grabbed a few things from him!”

“Yeah, it was just his purse, and there wasn’t even that much money in it,” Xue Yang helpfully provided. “Well, and a few buns from his stall, and those apples from the stall next to his, and…”

“Shut it,” Nie Huaisang hissed, before returning his attention to his brother, a bright smile on his face. “So, you always say we have to defend the weak, and nobody’s weaker than a kid, so I went to check what was going on, right? And the man told me that kid is a terrible thief that’s plaguing their town, and he’s going to beat him up until all his bones are broken and he can never bother anyone else. But it’s just a kid!”

“Yeah, I’m just a kid!”

“Shut it! Anyway, I rescued the kid, because he really was in a bad state. And then I figured, well, how can someone that’s just a kid be such a good thief, right? So I checked and he’s got good dispositions for cultivation!”

It had been a lucky realisation, because he hadn’t known for sure that Xue Yang even was meant to become a cultivator, nor a talented one for that matter. In fact, the whole thing had been unbelievably lucky. Sure Nie Huaisang had spent three whole days searching everywhere for Xue Yang, but he’d been about ready to give up when he’d finally found him in roughly the exact way he'd described.

“The local sect are a bunch of pricks who didn’t want to take him in when I asked,” Nie Huaisang explained, as if he could ever have left Xue Yang into the care of strangers who might have failed to stop him from becoming evil. “So I brought him home. He’s going to be a great disciple!”

Having listened to that story with mounting annoyance, Nie Mingjue glared at his brother.

“Huaisang, that’s…”

“You always say people deserve a chance no matter their background!”

“Oh so you do listen when I talk sometimes?”

“He’s an orphan, and he’s talented, and someone has to do something, and we can’t send him back or else he might continue stealing maybe!”

“I’ll definitely continue stealing if you send me back,” Xue Yang promised with a smirk.

Nie Huaisang glared at him. Evil or not, Xue Yang knew how to be annoying.

He also knew how to be charming, though. He’d been absolutely delightful with a bunch of people they’d met on the way to Qinghe whenever he’d thought he could get something out of it. And it had worked, too. Xue Yang had obtained a lot of sweets from a lot of people, as well as some money here and there. And that was without mentioning the stuff he’d just outright stolen, sometimes from the very people generously sharing something with him. He was a little pest, all right.

But he was smart too, smart enough to understand what an incredible opportunity he’d been given. It would have been easy for Xue Yang to run away into the night, taking with him all of Nie Huaisang’s money. He was a skilled enough thief to manage it, especially once he’d realised that Nie Huaisang wasn’t a skilled enough cultivator to pursue him. But he hadn’t, because he’d been promised a chance of becoming a cultivator if Nie Huaisang could just convince his brother.

Of course, that was a pretty big 'if'.

A year earlier, Nie Huaisang would have been certain that he could convince his brother of anything. He’d never had any reason to doubt that, not until his future self had come into his life uninvited and whispered poison to him about Nie Mingjue having a bad opinion of him. And maybe he was right, that old prick. Nie Huaisang had messed up so badly in the Cloud Recesses, failing his classes in a way most people never did. He’d shamed his sect, his clan, his brother, and now he had the galls of asking for a huge favour, as if he had any right to…

“How old are you?” Nie Mingjue asked Xue Yang, who shrugged.

“Dunno. I think I’m older than nine, maybe, ‘cause I remember that bad drought we had one year. But old Cheng says I’m probably less than twelve, ‘cause I don’t have all my teeth yet.”

To prove his point, Xue Yang clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He was indeed missing one canine on the left, while the right one was just starting to regrow. It made for a very odd smile, and yet Xue Yang knew how to use that to look cute sometimes.

Cuteness wouldn’t work on Nie Mingjue though. Years of dealing with Nie Huaisang had made him nearly immune to it.

"What did my idiot brother tell you to convince you to come all the way here from Kuizhou?"

"He said I'd learn to be a cultivator, and people wouldn't beat me up ever again for stealing," Xue Yang recited. "And he said I'd have to learn to be good and stuff, because it's a second chance for an honest life, and I figured, well, it's better than the streets."

Nie Mingjue nodded, though he still looked severe enough that Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure yet of his victory.

"We have a certain way of doing things in my sect, and dishonesty isn't allowed. And I'll need to check if you can be taught at all. Come closer and give me your hand."

Xue Yang, impossibly cocky a moment before, suddenly hesitated and glanced at both Nie brothers before hiding his hands behind his back.

"Which hand ?"

"Either one, it makes no difference."

"It might a bit," Xue Yang grumbled before reluctantly raising both hands.

Nie Mingjue frowned when he noticed that one finger was missing, but Nie Huaisang took it to be an encouraging frown and finally relaxed. It expressed concern rather than anger, and that had to be a step in the right direction.

"That looks old," Nie Mingjue noted, grabbing Xue Yang's left hand to inspect it. "Hm. That's not neat enough to have been cut off. What happened to you?"

"Someone's cart ran over my hand on purpose," Xue Yang muttered, trying in vain to pull his hand free. "I was little. It's fine now, I swear!"

It was far from fine, actually. Xue Yang himself might not have realised it since he was used to it, but Nie Huaisang had noticed that the young boy favoured his right hand a lot more than was normal, even for a right-handed person. In another sect, that might have been a problem. But Qinghe Nie was more martial than most others, a little more reckless too, and they had their share of cultivators who'd had nasty accidents.

A missing finger in a stiff hand wasn't so bad compared to some people.

"We'll have to get you a light sabre," Nie Mingjue said, mostly to himself after a quick check of the boy’s meridians. "Something you can use one-handed, like Huaisang. And I'll ask our doctor to have a look at it. It looks painful."

"No, it's fine, I don't feel pain anymore," Xue Yang proudly announced as he pulled his hand free. "Trained myself out of it, mostly."

"You are definitely going to see Zhilan," Nie Mingjue replied, frowning harder. "Huaisang’s right, you do have potential, so we'll train you.” He turned toward their audience of disciples, and gestured for one man to walk closer. “Zonghui! Come and give that kid a tour, and a meal. When he's eaten, take him to see Zhilan, and have a bed prepared for him."

“I’m in?” Xue Yang asked, so startled that for once, he really did look his age.

He glanced at Nie Huaisang who grinned at him and nodded, then turned his eyes back to Nie Mingjue who nodded as well.

“You’re in. Go with Nie Zonghui, he’ll explain everything you need to know about being part of this sect.”

With surprising obedience that had to be a side effect of surprise, Xue Yang trotted away with Nie Mingjue’s first disciple. Nie Huaisang tried to follow, equal parts curious and worried about what might happen next if he lost sight of Xue Yang. He hadn’t taken two steps before Nie Mingjue grabbed him by the collar to stop him.

“And where are you going?”

Nie Huaisang pointed toward Xue Yang. His brother gave him a pointed look, and started dragging him in another direction, leaving him no choice but to follow or be strangled.

“I’m tired,” Nie Huaisang complained. Then, noticing that they appeared to be going toward the training grounds, he struggled against his brother’s grasp. “Wait, da-ge, I’m really tired, I mean it! We’ve had to walk so long, you know! We’ve only been able to hitch a ride on carts for some of the way, so I can’t feel my legs anymore for how much walking I’ve done lately.”

“If you’d come home directly from the Cloud Recesses, you’d have ridden in a carriage,” Nie Mingjue retorted without an ounce of pity. “Now let’s see if you’ve made any progress with your sabre, aside from using it to run away. We’re going to spar together.”

“I can’t, I’m so tired!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I’m going to die if I have to move! And you’re so much stronger than me, there’s no point in training together, the difference is too great! Da-ge, have some mercy, let me eat something first! Let me rest! And I need to change clothes too, and I really should check how my birds are, and…”

“Shut up you brat! This is your punishment for getting me so worried!” Nie Mingjue snapped, pushing his brother onto the softer soil of the training ground. “Do your warm-ups!”

“But I’m starving, da-ge!”

“That’s your own fault for running away!” Nie Mingjue replied, showing yet again he was the most cruel person in the entire world.

And yet as soon as Nie Huaisang started stretching in preparation for a friendly fight, Nie Mingjue asked a disciple to go ask the kitchens if they might send some fresh buns and a little tea that way. Aggravated as he was that his brother only cared about checking his cultivation and martial art progress, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile.

After everything his older self had said about Nie Mingjue really despising him, he’d been worried that his brother would indeed be furious at him for everything he’d done, from failing his classes to forcing him to take in a miscreant. But no matter how shouty and frowny he currently was, it was clear to anyone who knew him, as his brother did, that Nie Mingjue was worried-angry rather than angry-angry.

Nie Huaisang had gambled and won, thus proving to himself that he definitely knew his brother better than his older self did.

#xisang #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #xue yang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #this was almost a much longer chapter but I figured the next visit of future nhs could be posted on its own next week

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scarletjedi · 3 years ago

Text

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fix-it Fic but make it Mingcheng pt 3A

@piyo-13

Part 1: The Setup

Part 2A: Gusu Revisited

Part 2B: Gusu Unleashed!

Part 3A: The Return of the Plot

One day, Lan Qiren announces that there will be several days without classes, as he is expected to attend a discussion conference in Qinghe. Students are expected to continue their studies independently, but everyone knows that it’s some much needed time off.

And, if Jiang Cheng’s memory serves, this was when Lan Xichen led them to fight the Waterborne Abyss. It plays out more or less as Jiang Cheng remembers, with Lan Xichen leading a mixed group of juniors down to the lake. The group consisted of himself, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and a few Lan disciples, as well as Wen Ning and Wen Qing. Nie Huaisang had smothered laughter when Xichen had asked, insisting that he was going to stay and “study.” Jiang Cheng wasn't sure if Lan Xichen believed him, but Nie Huaisang really wasn’t a strong cultivator, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to handle a water demon.

But, knowing what the problem actually was, and being able to convince Lan Xichen that this was more than a few water ghouls without saying “I’m from the future and we’ve done this already: here’s what you need to know” was a bit beyond Jaing Cheng’s skill. Wangji was no help, nor was Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes, suspicious.

Later, Jiang Cheng would shake his head at his naivete in thinking Wei Wuxian had something planned using resentful energy, instead of what he actually did, which was flirt inappropriately with Lan Wangji the entire time.

Granted, that wasn’t much different from the first time, but this time Lan Wangji flirted back, and yeah, their flirting looked a hell of a lot light fighting together (and the pang of jealousy Jiang Cheng felt was an old ghost, and easily put to rest. He had his brother back, and he wasn’t going to let old hurts sour what was becoming a stronger bond) — but it also looked a hell of a lot like foreplay--

On the boat next to him, Lan Xichen’s smile had become a little fixed, his neck flushed an embarrassed red. When he met Jiang Cheng’s eye, Jiang Cheng sent him the same commiserating look he would sent A-Jie when Wei Wuxian was being ridiculous. Lan Xichen started, but sent a rueful (and, hopefully, honest) smile in return.

The events played out much as they had before. Su She lost his sword in the lake. Wei Wuxian almost fell into the abyss trying to save Wen Ning. Lan Xichen put the pieces together and came up with Qishan Wen. And, if Wen Ning’s eyes were less ghost-white, and more fierce-corpse black, well — it’s not like it would be something others would recognize.

They traveled back to The Cloud Recesses by boat, and when Wei Wuxian held up a pair of surreptitiously purchased bottles, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

Yeah, what the hell. He could use a drink.

~*~

That evening is surreal as everyone piles into the room Jiang Cheng shares with Wei Wuxian. Some things are the same as before: there are peanuts to eat, and their outer robes are thrown over the windows to hide the lights of the lanterns that will remain lit well after curfew. But this time, it's more than just him and Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. This time Jin Zixuan is there, holding a bag of boiled sweets like it’s an entrance fee. Wen Ning, sitting hunched over as if it could make his already surprisingly broad frame smaller, brought roasted and salted melon seeds. One concerning thing, however, was that Nie Huaisang, along with the peanuts, had insisted on bringing “entertainment.” Jiang Cheng hoped it was game cards, but it was more likely to be porn.

...or porn themed game cards...

Oh, fuck, it was porn-themed game cards, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng shook his head, trying to chase the worry away. There was a larger issue at present, one that challenged everything Jiang Cheng remembered about their group’s shared past...

The wine was provided by Lan Wangji.

Sure, Wei Wuxian had snagged a couple bottles on the boat ride through the market, same as last time, but he had only managed to grab two bottles. No, when Lan Wangji had arrived, walking in like he was busting them for breaking the rules *again*, he had, instead, pulled *three* bottles from his sleeve, and Jiang Cheng wasn’t entirely convinced there wasn’t more stored there for later. It certainly seemed like something this Lan Wangji would do to please Wei Wuxian — and judging by the way Wei Wuxian threw himself into Lan Wangji’s arms, it was *working*

Jiang Cheng sat next to Nie Huaisang, which placed him next to Wen Ning. Their tentative truce held as Wen Ning smiled at him, tight lipped but honest. Jiang Cheng was sure his returning expression was no less pained. Jin Zixuan sat gingerly on Nie Huaisang’s other side.

Jiang Cheng grabbed one of the bottles on the table, and Nie Huaisang hurriedly pulled several cups from somewhere. Jiang Cheng poured four cups, and dropped the bottle on the table. Wei Wuxian could get his own when he put down Lan Wangji.

Roughly, though gentle enough not to spill, Jiang Cheng placed a drink before Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning, and then all but shoved a third at Jin Zixuan. “Drink up,” he said brusquely, downing his own glass and pouring another.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian protested — Oh, now he’s paying attention! — “Savor the wine! Emperor’s Smile is a wine so unparalleled—”

“I’m about to ask him about A-jie,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and Wei Wuxian fell silent. Then, to Zixuan, who had remained frozen, cup in hand: “Drink up!”

Jin ZIxuan drank.

It didn’t take long for his face to flush, his eyes to blink more slowly — long enough for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to join them, Wei Wuxian leaning in to check on Wen Ning, who nodded back. Ignoring that exchange, Jiang Cheng watched Jin Zixuan pour another cup with more care than usual. He had to admit, he was a little surprised: he expected greater tolerance for pleasures from someone from Lanling Jin.

“So,” Jiang Cheng said, not too proud to admit that he enjoyed the sudden look of terror in Jin Zixuan’s eyes. “Why don’t you want to marry my sister?”

Huaisang choked on his drink, but Jin Zixuan lowered his cup, answering seriously. “I don’t know your sister.”

Jiang Cheng waited, but there was nothing more forthcoming. “That’s it? You don’t know her? Tsh—” he pointed at Jin Zixuan with the finger of the hand holding his cup. “That’s easily fixed.”

Jin Zixuan...slumped. There was no other word for it, and Jiang Cheng was reminded, yet again, that Jin Zixuan was only fifteen — the only actual teenager in the room.

Jiang Cheng sighed internally. That meant he had to be an adult about this, didn’t it? Damnit.

He held up a hand to stop Wei Wuxian’s irate sputtering from becoming actual words. “Don’t you want to know your intended?”

Jin Zixuan glared at him, sullen, and Jiang Cheng had a sudden flash of Jin Ling, and what he would become as a teenager — even as a toddler, the child clearly hadn’t inherited his mother’s composure. But, Jiang Cheng was the adult in the room (by default. Huaisang was, actually, the oldest, but Jiang Cheng was confident in thinking that didn’t count when Huaisang was determined to recapture his misspent youth in between plotting the fate of the cultivation world), and being the adult meant waiting out the teenager.

After a long moment Jin Zixuan downed his drink, as if for courage, and spat, “I would like one thing in my life to be my own!” It was supposed to be angry, and Jiang Cheng could sympathize with that anger — how much of his own life was wha Jiang Cheng would have chosen? — but in this moment, it was just even more clean that Jin Zixuan was still a teenager — and a poorly socialized one at that.

Jiang Cheng knew Luo Qingyang had tried her best, but there was only so much even as capable a woman as she could do in a place like Jinlingtai.

“You are a sect heir—” Jiang Cheng began, but Jin Zixuan cut him off.

“So I can choose nothing for myself?!”

Jiang Cheng slammed his palm on the table, the echoing crack of it silencing and stilling the room. “Yes! Exactly! Your life is not your own; it has never been your own, and sometimes that’s easy, but sometimes...” He swallowed, mind’s eye full of battlefield thunder and a surprisingly boyish grin, “sometimes life will seem to offer you everything you ever wanted and you cannot take it because your sect comes first.” Mortifyingly, his voice cracks, and Nie Huaisang shows some damned tact by gripping his hand in comfort under the table where Jin Zixuan can’t see — and Lan Wangji’s face looks as stoic as he ever did in Jiang Cheng’s memories, and Wei Wuxian looks like he might cry, and—-

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. “So all you can do is choose the way you face it. You can be sullen and cry “why me” and like miserable for both you and her, who has no more choice in this that you. You can make things difficult for your sect, mine, our parents — or, you can choose to make an effort, get to know A-Jie. You can choose to walk into the future with an ally.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or do you want a marriage like your parents’? I know I wouldn’t wish mine on anybody.”

He raised his cup to drink, but it was empty. A bottle appeared in his field of vision, and Jiang Cheng watched as Nie Huaisang filled his cup.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian began softly, but he shook his head.

Pointing at Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng said. “Make you choice. Now,” he sniffed. “Huaisang, you promised entertainment?”

“I did!” Nie Huaisang said, giggling as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a stack of cards with a flourish. “I found these in a little shop in Qinghe. The art is exquisite, and they’re quite rare, so be careful! Don’t spill anything on them!”

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he spread them on the table. Jin Zixuan choked and Jiang Cheng sighed.

Yep. Porn cards.

Squinting, he picked up one to get a better look. Oh. Cutsleeve porn cards. Well.

“Nie-xiong!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, half-delighted and half-scandalized. He leaned in closer to look, but it was Lan Wangji who picked up a card to study it more closely. He showed it to Wei Wuxian, who turned purple, grabbing the card and hiding it against his chest. “Lan Zhan!”

“Ah ah! Don’t bend them!” Nie Huaisang scolded, flapping his fingers as he would his fan.

“You-!” Wei Wuxian tried, but he couldn’t get the words out past his mortification. Jiang Cheng smirked and picked up a card of his own, not really looking closely but loving the way Wei Wuxian made a noise like steam escaping. Really, his favorite song.

After that, their little group was solidified. It gained them some severe looks from Wen Qing, (and one terrifying moment when Jiang Cheng, in a hurry to make it back to his dorms before curfew, turned a corner and came face to face with her. She was smaller than he remembered, the force of her presence making her grow in his memory, but after a moment of far too intense eye-contact, Jiang Cheng stepped aside to let her pass, which she did. Jiang Cheng told himself that the flash of light by her fingertips was an illusion, and not her needles), but every time Lan Xichen saw their group with Lan Wangji he smiled and let them be.

Once, Jiang Cheng saw Jin Zixuan talking closely with Jiang Yanli, and slowed down until he saw Mianmian standing within earshot, pointedly not looking. No need to get involved, himself. Mianmian was more than capable of smacking him if Jin Zixuan stepped out of line.

Wen Ning was a surprising help for Nie Huaisang, possessing an incredible amount of patience and a talent for tutoring. When Nie Huaisang passed the next exam without asking Wei Wuxian to help him cheat, he threw himself at the shy boy, draping over him the way he used to his brother’s sworn brothers, sobbing his thanks. Wen Ning awkwardly patted his back and waited for him to stand.

~*~

So, since this is the Untamed canon, the whole Yin Iron thing happens, only this time Wangxian *know* they’ve eloped, and have decided to make that everyone *else’s* problem by being utterly shameless while keeping knowledge of their elopement to the core group of time travelers. Wangji makes it clear that he would be traveling with Wei Ying, who also makes it clear that there is no way he would let Lan Zhan handle this alone. The plan is still to travel after the lectures complete.

Nie Huaisang is adamant that they have to leave before that if they wait, they’ll miss Xue Yang, and delaying too long would trap them between Gusu and Wen Xu. Lan Wangji is perfectly happen to fuck up Wen Xu, but agrees the Yin Iron is more important.

Either way, the lantern festival comes, and Jin Zixuan isn’t a total jerkwad, having actually talked to Yanl at some point — actually, based on the way they’re looking at each other, they probably talked a lot. Mianmian caught Jiang Cheng’s eye and winked. Huh.

Leaning in closer to Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng wurmured, “if my sister marries Jin Zixuan before the war, how badly will that impact your plans?”

Nie Huaisang waved his hand, clearly focusing more on his lantern. “I’ve several contingencies for that, don’t worry!”

The rest of the lantern lighting goes off without a hitch, and Jiang Cheng releases his lantern with a wish that he refuses to speak out loud.

Afterwards, there’s still a commotion, but instead of Wei Wuxian punching Jin Zixuan because he’s being a dick, it’s becuse several disciples stumbled over Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian ... well, they were fully clothed then Jiang Cheng opened up, so it couldn’t have been anything too scandalous. When they’re brought before Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen for discipline, the former looks about ready to qi deviate, while Lan Xichen was absolutely planning Lan Wangji’s wedding robes.

Jaing Cheng narrowed his eyes.

Even Lan Xichen’s composure cracked, however, when Lan Wangji dropped the “we eloped” bomb, and Jiang Cheng heard Lan Qiren shout for the first time off of a battlefield. Eventually, however, it was decided that the handfasting could be seen as an engagement rather than a marriage (and even Jiang Cheng recognized how stubborn Lan Wangji looked at that), and the couple would be seen as officially courting. The proper letters and gifts would be delivered to Yunmeng Jiang immediately—

“We should wait!” Wei Wuxian blurted out, and hand to backtrack quickly to explain: dealing with the Yin Iron should take precedence. If they started formal marriage proceedings, then Lan Wangji wouldn’t be available to hunt the Yin Iron. So, they should wait until after their search before sending the letters.

“We cannot allow you both to go alone, even if nothing is yet official, there is still propriety to observe.”

Somehow, neither Wei Ying nor Lan Wangji let slip their late nights in the Jingshi, and Jiang Cheng found himself saying goodbye to Yanli as he and Nie Huaisang prepared to travel with the two newlyweds.

~*~.

The events play out much the same as before, only this time instead of sending Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue sends Nie Zonghui to collect them and Xue Yang (who, after they testify the his confessions of his crimes) is summarily executed - and then, they have two pieces of Yin Iron.

But, before that happens, their party arrives in Qinghe.

Nie Mingjue is waiting for them, like before, but this time there is a noticeable pause when he sets eyes on Jaing Cheng (and oh, but he wasn’t ready—) — long enough a pause that those watching noticed, and it was only at Huaisang’s prompting that Nie Mingjue began to speak, repeating the words he said the first time as if a script he was told to follow, save for the way he paused again after his paise made Jiang Cheng flush like a teenager with a crush—

Nie Zonghui gives his report and takes Xue Yang away, and Meng Yao leads “the visiting young masters” away to rest and refresh themselves from travel. The minute they are alone, Nie Huaisang *flings* himself at Nie Mingjue, sobbing. “DA-GE!”

“Didi, what did you do?!” Nie Mingjue demands, his words belied by his tone, near tears himself, and the way he holds Huaisang back just as tightly.

Gathering himself, Nie Huaisang steps back, squares his shoulders, and snaps open his fan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Da-ge. I didn’t do anything.” Mingjue’s eyes narrow and the fan flutters. “Really it’s all about being in the right place.” He blinked, slow. “At the right time.”

Dinner that night is a tense affair, not out of discomfort, but out of the need to keep up pretense. Mingjue took the opportunity between meeting with his brother and the meal to met out Xue Yang’s sentence, and when Meng Yao idly commented on the fact that acting unilaterally as he had would make certain political allegiances difficult, Nie Mingjue commented that war was inherently difficult, and if the Nie sect were the only ones to notice that Wen Ruohan had gone to war without informing the rest of them, that was hardly his fault, was it.

(Meng Yao had looked at him, and when Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow, he shook his head. “Nothing, sect leader, just...it always surprises me more when you are like your brother than when your brother reminds me of you.”

Nie Mingjue had laughed, low and self-aware. He did hope that they were able to keep Meng Yao from making the same mistakes in this life: he did, genuinely, like the man.)

They did not keep silent during the meal, as they were not in Gusu, but as was customary during joint functions, they refrained from discussing anything of substance until the meal was over, and no one pressed Lan Wangji to speak. But, once the meal was over and they lingered over a delightful Qinghe wine that was clearly not chosen by Nie Mingjue himself, not the way he looked surprised by the contents of his cup, Nie Mingjue dismissed the staff and gave Meng Yao his leave for the night. It was only once the door was closed behind them that the facade dropped.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “All of you? Us? All of us?” he asked, sounding far too tired, and Jiang Cheng, sitting opposite Nie Huaisang, next in line from Nie Mingjue, moved to reach out in comfort without thinking. Mingjue was seated too far away, however, and Jiang Cheng watched, instead, as Nie Mingjue gathered himself once more.

When Mingjue looked up, Jiang Cheng began talking, explaining that it was only supposed to be him, but something had gone wrong. That they were lucky that their error brought more people along and did not, for example, kill any of them. In such a ritual, Jiang Cheng was pretty sure it would not be a normal death, and despite the rituals he had undergone to prevent such things, he did not want to haunt the earth after attempting and failing to go back in time.

“Is this all of us?”

“There’s one more,” Nie Huaisang said, and hesitated. “He’s on our side, and always has been!”

Nie Mingjue lowered the cup. “Who?”

“Wen Qionglin,” Nie Huaisang said, and raised his fan to cover his mouth. “The Ghost General.”

Nie MIngjue breathed deeply through his nose, letting it out slowly even as Baxia rattled eagerly beside him. Jiang Cheng eyed the saber warily - he didn’t know what effect traveling through time would have on Mingjue’s qi, and he didn’t want his lover to deviate before they had a chance to keep him alive.

But, Baxia settled, and Mingjue turned his focus on Wei Wuxian. “Yes. Let’s talk about the Ghost General.” Jiang Cheng wasn’t surprised when Lan Wangji’s arm came up between Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue, nor when Wei Wuxian patted it gently, trying to urge Lan Wangji to step aside. Lan Wangji didn’t move, and Jiang Cheng cleared his throat, sitting up straight to speak like the sect leader he was, even if he wasn’t yet.

Oh, he’s going to have to face that soon, isn’t he?

“Wei Wuxian’s cultivation is not an issue. The circumstances that lead to its creation will not be repeated,” and here, he turned to Wei Wuxian. “Under any circumstances.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth as if to argue, shot his eyes sideways to Lan Wangji, and slumped, visibly, as if he was truly still a teenager. He nodded, holding up three fingers in salute.

“And what circumstances were those?” Nie Mingjue asked, raising an eyebrow. “If this is something that could be replicated—”

“It isn’t,” Jiang Cheng snapped. Nie Mingjue looked at him in surprise: it wasn’t that Jiang Cheng had never snapped at him before, but perhaps he could tell how upsetting Jiang Cheng found the whole mess. He forces himself to settle, to lower his shoulders and unclench his jaw. Softening his voice as much as he could, he offered: “Later.”

Nie Mingjue watched him for a moment, and then nodded.

Of course Wei Wuxian had to ruin it. “Jiang Cheng is correct in saying that the conditions wont be repeated, and the effects of my research are not currently affecting this world, it doesn’t change the fact that I know this path - I am still capable of it’s cultivation.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, his tone steely enough to override any other reactions to that proclamation. “Your skills were instrumental in not only ending the war, but winning. We’ll need your talents again if we want to defeat Wen Ruohan.”

After a moment, Nie Mingjue nodded. “I have to agree. I don’t like it, you’re too talented a cultivator to lose you to wicked tricks a second time, but I can’t deny that it was effective on the battlefield.”

“Perhaps not as your primary path of cultivation?” Lan Wangji said, the plea within obvious. Wei Wuxian smiled at him, softly enough that it was as if the rest of them suddenly didn’t exist.

“Don’t worry, Lan-er-gege. I just got Suibian back - I have no desire to cast her aside so quickly.”

From the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Nie Mingjue frown at that - probably remembering all the times Wei Wuxian publicly refused to wear his sword.

“How close are we to war?” Jiang Cheng asked, and as a distraction, it worked. It was also a legitimate question: his first time though, Jiang Cheng hadn’t been unaware of the political tumult, but he was also fifteen and preoccupied by more local matters. Lotus Pier’s policy of “not our business” didn’t help him remember the details.

Well, the details before it burned.

The conversation shifted into a true council of war; the Wen forces acted much the same as before, which confirmed to Nie Huaisang that there probably wasn’t another rogue time traveler on the loose. Unlike before, however, Nie Mingjue had been busy, setting Meng Yao to the task of establishing correspondence (in Nie Mingjue’s name, of course) between the other major sects, seeking to bring them closer together earlier, to hopefully fend off some of the destruction.

So far, it hadn’t worked.

“Wen Xu is already marching on Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji said, and Nie Mingjue nodded.

“I have a team of Nie disciples ready to escort you back to Gusu, to aid in the defence of your home. They will be ready to leave in the morning, you should make better time if you fly, and should beat Wen Xu there.” Lan Wangji bowed his thanks, and leaned into Wei Wuxian when he attached himself to Lan Wangji’s side. Jiang Cheng didn’t watch - it seemed that the lovebirds finally realized that their responsibilities were pulling them in two different directions, for now.

Turning away, Jiang Cheng met Nie Mingjue’s eyes, and followed him from the chamber towards a reunion of his own.

Part 3B: The Road to War!

#mingcheng #mingcheng notefic #my fic #the untamed

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porcelain-blue · 4 years ago

Text

Let Me Help Your Aching Bones

Canon Divergence AU where Lan Zhan doesn’t run away from Wei Ying after kissing him in the Pheonix mountains.

-----

What if it didn’t turn out the way it did; not fire and blood and years of Wei Ying’s absence like a discordant note of a guqin song?

What if Lan Wangji catches Wei Ying right before he hatches his plan to liberate the Wen civilians? Maybe it would be something like this.

The dark circles and angry set of Wei Ying’s shoulders feels like a punch to the gut, and leaves Lan Wangji’s chest tight, out of breath. It feels like the boy he fell in love with is fading before his eyes, and Wangji must do something about it before Wei Ying is lost. He has a sour feeling in his gut, a grim certainty that if he does not reach him now, Wei Ying might forever be lost to him.

So he goes, corners Wei Ying during the Night-hunt on Phoenix mountain, pushes him up against a tree as the dusk settles around them like a lover’s embrace. He cannot help himself, despite his shame, his patience and heart frayed beyond measure after months of worrying, worrying about Wei Ying dead, and after the brief elation of hearing him alive, worrying about Wei Ying dying, eaten from inside by the resentment of the path he walks.

He kisses him, and there is enough of the sunlit boy he fell in love with in Wei Ying’s response, fluttery and flighty, an awkward laugh even as he is pushed against a tree and kissed by a stranger. Wei Ying’s hands flex despite being pinned, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart breaks, knowing that even in this vulnerable a situation, Wei Ying is compassionate enough to not fight, to let someone take something Wangji is sure he thinks is expendable, for the sake of another. His hand pinning Wei Ying’s wrist spasms at the thought, angry that Wei Ying could give something like this away, ashamed that he himself is the one taking it, when it was not something that belonged to him.

Wei Ying does not belong to him.

He pulls back, guilt coursing through him, and hesitates a moment before releasing Wei Ying’s hands. He pauses, waiting to see what Wei Ying would do.

He does nothing, and Wangji’s heart lurches. He can almost imagine Wei Ying’s mind working, quicksilver in its deductions, assuming that someone had plucked up all of their courage to approach him when he couldn’t see them, holding himself back instead of pulling his blindfold off, so that he doesn’t embarrass his attacker.

Wangji knows Wei Ying well. He would give everything for the sake of another. Wangji knows how, having taken for himself the sweet breath of Wei Ying, knows that he cannot bear to see Wei Ying give anything else to him without wanting it. Lan Wangji will do everything in his power to stop Wei Ying burning himself whole for the world.

For that, Wangji must atone. He does not run away. He grips Bichen so hard that he is sure a lesser sword would shatter in his hands, the way he is sure his heart will do soon. He speaks.

“Wei Ying,” he says, softly, with shame.

At his voice, Wei Ying stills. Wangji knows he has been recognised, and he feels like everything inside him will break at once.

Wei Ying rips off the ribbon, staring at him with wide eyes, a flush still high on his cheekbones.

“Lan Zhan?” He says, confused and unsure.

Lan Wangji steels himself. Lying is prohibited. He gathers every ounce of courage that has been pressed into him since he was born, every virtue and precept that has formed into his core and he prepares his integrity like a weapon he is using to stab himself with.

“Wei Ying. I am sorry. I have taken what I should not have. I have forgotten myself.”

He bows, back straight even as his hand shakes around his sword, and hopes that Wei Ying can see that at least in this he is sincere, he regrets.

---

Wei Ying is quiet for many moments, the shock of seeing Lan Zhan bowing so deeply almost eclipsing the shock of seeing Lan Zhan in front of him after that kiss. The usual animosityshamelonging that usually surges in him at the sight of Lan Zhan’s stupidly perfect face has apparently been kissed out of him temporarily, and Wei Ying feels like he can breathe without the dead in his lungs for the first time since he came back with Chenqing in hand and the dead at his fingertips.

“Lan Zhan, what-what why? Were you the one who..?” He doesn’t know what to say, even as heat flushes through him at the idea of Lan Zhan kissing him. Kissing him! It is obvious, though, in the shame and pink in Lan Zhan’s ears that he is he one who had taken Wei Ying’s first kiss. Despite how ridiculous the situation is, something soft unfurls in his heart at the sight of Lan Zhan like this, so noble, so full of integrity after doing something that, apparently, his heart desired. Wei Wuxian thinks of the cloud recesses, the sharp straightness of Lan Zhan as he kneels beside him and takes the punishment that Wei Ying had gotten him into. He hasn’t changed at all. The pain that pricks him at the sight of such perfect morals comes back, then, and Wei Wuxian wonders what the paragon of virtue is doing, kissing him in the backwoods of the Phoenix mountains.

Still though, the first kiss of his life from the man he has been in love with for years tugs stronger than his self esteem, for once tugs stronger than the gaping hole in his chest where his golden core once was, where now resentment pulses like a sick parody of what power his body once held. It tugs, and the soreness of his lips and wrists pull him right into the present, and Lan Zhan is still here, trembling and bowed in shame.

He steps forward and places his hands gingerly under Lan Zhan’s elbows, pulling him out of his bow and tilting his head so he can look him in the eye. Lan Zhan’s mouth is pressed into an unhappy line, despite being a little swollen, and his eyes-

Oh.

His eyes are soft and looking at him like Wei Ying is going to break, like Lan Zhan, Hanguang-jun, one of the twin jades of Gusu, cares. He looks frighteningly like he is about to cry, and Wei Wuxian finally sees in that perfect face that what he assumed was derision and judgement was something far simpler and purer- it was worry.

“Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, I’m not mad, please don’t cry,” he stammers, still gripping onto Lan Zhan’s elbows as though those two points of contact in his palms are the only thing keeping him from becoming unmoored.

“I’m not mad, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a kiss, even though it’s my first one, so you should be really proud, okay?” Nervous chatter pours out of him as he shakes.

“I just. I just need to know. Why? Lan Zhan? Why did you kiss me?”

If it is for a joke he will shatter, and the only thing that is allowing fragile hope to grow in him is the knowledge that Lan Zhan is the most honest man he knows, the most un-shameless, un-flirtatious person ever to exist in the cultivation world. So by process of elimination-

“Because I care for Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, resolute even as the flush travels even further down his neck. He has chosen this path by not running away, by revealing himself to Wei Ying. At the very least, he is glad to know that by owning up to his lack of control has returned him to himself, and his own character. Honesty comes from him now, as it always has, frank and unvarnished.

“I have always cared. Since we fought in the cloud recesses. I did not show it well, then, but I am tired of lying,” he continues before Wei Ying can interject or object, determined now to get the words clawing out of his chest a space to exist.

“I do not expect anything from Wei Ying, and if you wish it you will never see me again. But I.. I wanted Wei Ying to know, that he does not have to do things alone. I will stand beside you, if you wished it.”

Wei Ying is staring at him, mouth agape. He closes it, opens his mouth, and closes it again. After a moment, he speaks.

“Lan Zhan, are you serious?” He looks lost, and Lan Zhan wants to hold him until he knows he is found, if Wei Ying will let him.

He nods. “Lying is prohibited, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying huffs a little laugh at that, and Lan Zhan’s poor, pathetic heart jumps at the sound, and impossible hope beating with his blood.

“Lan Zhan, did you forget that I’m going down the path of evil? I thought you didn’t approve? Your reputation is going to get dragged through the mud if you’re with me, you know that, right?”

Wei Ying’s hands are clutching at his sleeves, and they are warm through the fabric of his robes. Lan Zhan frowns, and answers haltingly, as honestly as he knows how to.

“Wei Ying is not evil. There is something else that I do not know. You are not one to be reckless without reason. And… my reputation is good enough for both of us.”

He cannot help but be a little petulant as he says it, even as he flushes with guilt. Arrogance is prohibited. It is true, though, and Lan Zhan is not above using his social position if it means he can help Wei Ying through this.

Wei Ying groans, and pulls his hands back toward himself, leaving Lan Zhan’s elbows and forearms bereft of his warmth. His heart drops, fearing that Wei Ying will want nothing to do with him now, that he messed up and now he will be unable to even watch him from afar, but the Wei Ying drags a hand down his face and sighs, looking back at him with a wry smile that is achingly familiar.

Wei Ying steps closer, looks at Lan Zhan with eyes more open and clear than they had been for years, even. A hand comes up to rest over Lan Zhan’s heart, fingers curling slightly in the white fabric.

“You’re serious. You really are.” The dawning realisation tinges his voice with awe, and Lan Zhan dares to hope, again.

“If I said. If I said I was going go against all the sects. What would you do?”

“I would help.” The answer is simple, a clear, honest truth.

“If I said I was weak, I couldn’t fight equally with you without the demonic path, what would you do, Lan Zhan?”

He hears it now, in the crack in Wei Ying’s voice, that they are closer now to the thing that is haunting Wei Ying, that is hurting him in a way that turns him into somebody that Lan Zhan does not know.

“Then I will protect you. And I will help bring you back, when the powers are too strong. If Wei Ying will allow that.”

A sharp intake of breath comes, and Lan Zhan hates to hear Wei Ying’s breath hitch like that, like a small broken thing when Wei Ying is always stronger than anyone he knows. But, Lan Zhan amends, if Wei Ying is wounded and hurt and not strong, Lan Zhan will protect him until he is again.

The hand curled into his chest tightens, snagging the fabric and pulling Lan Zhan forward, until his chest hits Wei Ying’s forehead. They stay like that for a while, and Lan Zhan finds patience in him again, having said all he could say. Wei Ying’s shoulders are shaking, and he is mumbling into Lan Zhan’s chest, his voice broken and muffled.

“You. You’re crazy, Lan Zhan. You’re so fucking crazy. I must be too, I shouldn’t let you go down with me, but god, I want to,”

Lan Zhan places his hand over Wei Ying’s, closes his palm gently over the white knuckles.

“Then let me. But I will not let either of us go down.”

Another watery laugh. Wei Ying nods, and his head up at Lan Zhan, and smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll allow it, Lan Zhan. Please, please stay with me, I like you so much, I don’t want to let you go now,” Wei Ying pleads, as he cranes his his neck up to look at Lan Zhan, their breaths mingling now, puffs of white in the settling cold of the mountain night

Lan Zhan’s heart soars as he leans down to graze his lips against Wei Ying’s.

“Then I will stay.”

Every nerve inside him feels cleaved open, every sense alight and narrowed in on the sight weight smell taste of Wei Ying this close to him, kissing him shyly and softly, so unlike the heated press of their first kiss earlier, but so much better.

The night-hunt ends and Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are the only two cultivators who haven’t gotten a single kill, and the cultivators murmur amongst themselves that the infamous Wei Wuxian must not be that powerful, must be all talk and hot air, and Wei Ying finds that he does not mind.

———-

Wei Ying goes to Gusu with Lan Zhan after, telling Jiang Chen that he needed to pay respects and catch up with Lan Zhan. After an irritable slap to the shoulder and a reminder to not cause trouble, Wei Ying is free to go. He feels lighter, now, even though technically nothing has changed him, but he still feels that the pull of the resentment is weaker, frail and easy to break out of. He runs to catch up with Lan Zhan, who is walking at the back of the group travelling to Gusu.

Lan Zhan looks up when he sees him, and while his face is impassive as ever, Wei Ying sees his eyes soften, and warmth suffuses him at the knowledge that that look is for him.

They talk, quietly, about everything and anything, carefully skirting around what they both want to say, mindful of the other disciples. When they finally stop at an inn, Lan Zhan gracefully talks his way into letting them share a room since they did not account for Wei Ying accompanying their party. Wei Ying plays along, dutifully bashful and thanking the esteemed hanguang-jun for his hospitality. The years had tempered his mischievous spirit, but his silver tongue, now reigned into a shape resembling propriety, makes the sect leader and other disciples pause and reassess him against his reputation. He smiles, and they retreat for the night.

Despite the temptation to get Lan Zhan back into his arms and continuing the whole kissing thing, he knows he must get some truths out of the way. Ushering Lan Zhan to the table, he puts up a silence talisman on the door and window before joining Lan Zhan at the table.

He looks beautiful, in the low light of candles and moonlight, straight backed and gentle faced. Lan Zhan has always been patient, and now that the patience has extended to him, Wei Ying truly understands why he is heralded as the paragon of virtue. He thinks about himself, his reputation, the gnawing hole inside him, and tries not to freak out about the two of them together. At the very least, he does not want to disrespect Lan Zhan, who would not be here if he did not mean it.

So he talks. He tells Lan Zhan what happened at Lotus Pier, lets his voice shake and talks into the quiet of the room, and Lan Zhan listens, ever so patiently as Wei Ying spills the truth that has been suffocating him for months.

Core melting hand, Jiang Cheng’s own golden core melting away to nothing, the mountain, Wen Qing. How the golden core he had developed now sits behind the sternum of his brother, how Jiang Cheng must never know.

“Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan’s voice sounds so broken, and Wei Ying tamps down the desire to lash out, fear and shame squirming inside him as he wonders whether Lan Zhan will even want him now, knowing what he knows. His heart stutters until Lan Zhan is kneeling in front of him, grasping his wrists gently with his long, slender fingers. Wei Ying waits.

“I will protect you, so you do not have to shoulder this alone.” There is something warm and fierce inside those golden eyes, and Wei Ying’s breath stutters as finally, the last knot in his heart loosens, the burden of shame and secrecy halved. He knows, knows that Lan Zhan will not coddle him, knows truly that he is no longer on this godforsaken path alone.

He holds Lan Zhan’s hands in his own, and squeezes his thanks, throat too constricted to reply. Lan Zhan seems to understand, and his eyes do that not smiling but smiling thing again as he moves back to sit, keeping one hand clasped with Wei Ying’s.

The warmth of Lan Zhan’s hands is an anchor, and he finally breaches the topic of the Wen civilians, and his plan to liberate them.

“What was Wei Ying planning to do?” There is no judgement or censure in his voice, and Wei Ying lets his eyes close for a second as he replies.

“Go in, play the flute and fight my way out?” It sounds feeble, when he says it like that. A small furrow appears between Lan Zhan’s perfect eyebrows.

“Wei Ying.” Ah, there, there’s the censure.

“Wei Ying is usually smart, what happened this time?” Lan Zhan sounds pained, and Wei Ying sputters in indignance. Before he can protest, Lan Zhan continues.

“What about after? If you liberate them all alone, who will heal you, or them? Where will you go? How will you feed yourselves?”

The familiar defensive anger wants to surge forth again, wants him to throw the warm hand off his own and tell Lan Wangji that he can do all that and more by himself, but even as his blood heats along with the resentment he knows that Lan Zhan is right, and his plan had been incredibly short sighted. He drags his free hand across his face and through his hair, and sighs.

“What do you think I can do, then? No one else cares, all the sect leaders think all Wen people are dogs for slaughter. What am I supposed to do, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan thinks for a moment, considering all the information he now has.

“The sect leaders don’t care about the Wen civilians, but they do care about losing face. Now that they are vying for power to fill the Wen clan spot… reputation is important to them now. It’s why they like using you as a scapegoat, so they seem whiter against your black.”

Wei Ying nods, patient. Lan Zhan is like he always is, precise, laying out his answer as though they were at their desks in front of Lan Qiren in the lecture halls of the Cloud Recesses.

“Wei Ying’s strength is his power and cultivation, but you forget you have other skills.”

Wei Ying blinks, tilting his head to the side in question.

“Your mouth, and shamelessness,” Lan Zhan says, ears going pink. “Wei Ying is good at talking around people until they see your point. If we use it well.. we might be able to turn the tide. The Jin sect will be wary of another uprising.”

The surprise at his shamelessness being a good thing in Lan Zhan’s books notwithstanding, Lan Zhan does have a good point. Wei Ying smiles, wry and soft. In the horror of the past few months, the loss of his home and core, he had forgotten parts of himself and tried to fill the holes with darkness and power. But Lan Zhan remembered.

He nods in assent, and they start to plan, talking through the night.

———

They begin the next day. Lan Zhan had played Cleansing for him that morning, pulling the roar of resentful energy in him down to a manageable hum. He feels better than he has in months, and greets the Lan Xichen with grace and a genuine smile. Lan Zhan’s brother smiles in surprise, and they have a relatively calm morning as they prepare to continue their journey to Gusu.

Along the way, he chats with disciples of the Lan sect, gossiping with them until their wariness bleeds away when they see that Lan Zhan is amicable with Wei Ying’s antics. They gossip about everything and anything, and slowly the conversation moves towards the Wen clan.

It doesn’t take long before one of the Lan disciples, bless their virtuous hearts, wonders aloud about all the civilians in Qishan who aren’t cultivators. Some of the older disciples shush him, but the topic has ignited an ethics debate, and Wei Ying makes a well placed comment worrying about another clan becoming a new Wen clan with too much power.

Soon most of the desciples are talking about it, enough so that when they stop for a meal at another town, the waiters and innkeepers, mouths loose with such a large party of paying customers, ask them about it.

Wei Ying regales them with the stories, knowing that cultivator gossip is usually eaten up very willingly. He lets the disciples at the table talk first, so that he isn’t the one spreading the story.

“Are there kids too? And old people?” The innkeeper asks, alarmed.

“Yes, they’re just normal people with no cores,” a Lan disciple piped up, indignant with righteousness now that everyone is talking about the Wen camp. “How can they do something like that, they’re just defenceless people!”

A round of restrained, but unanimous assent goes around the table.

“Aiya, what can we do?” Wei Ying says, sighing with exaggeration. “I tried to bring it up, but the sect leaders probably have more important things to consider, I guess.”

He lets a little bit of bitterness come through the slump of his shoulders, the perfect image of a disappointed young man who tried to do the right thing.

“I guess it’s true that people only care if you’re from an important clan, no one listens to me because I’m just a commoners kid. Maybe those Wen people are also just commoners to the big sect leaders…”

He looks at the innkeeper and the disciples gathered around their table. Their eyes are suspiciously wet, seemingly moved to tears at the idea of the inequalities of life. Wei Ying knows that most of the disciples have never had to consider just how much higher their lives are valued just because of their birth, and smiles at the reminder that he can always count on Lan sect disciples to be full of empathy, even if they are a little lacking in street smarts.

Lan Zhan, who is quietly eating by Wei Ying’s side, puts down his chopsticks, having finished his meal.

“They can only be helped if all the sects come together. It would be unfortunate that the cultivation world lets more bloodshed happen even after the Sunshot Campaign has concluded.”

The juniors look on in awe, and quickly chorus their agreement.

“You said it right, Hanguang-jun, it’s true, I would hate to be compared to the Wen sect especially so soon after the uprising!”

The conversation continues after the innkeeper leaves their table, and Wei Ying knows that in days, every traveller will be regaled with the story of the plight of civilians suffering just because of the prejudice of the big sects, and also that the infamous dark cultivator Wei Wuxian is actually a tragic underdog that is maligned because of common birth.

———-

A night before reaching the cloud recesses, the party camps in the woods, with Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accompanying the junior disciples on the night patrol. When they encounter a few angry corpses, Wei Ying nags at the juniors, pushing them to deduce the situation from clues on the corpses, while playing chenqing just enough to keep the disciples safe. Between the two of them, it becomes a practical lesson, and the corpses are dealt with magnificently by the students, and by the end of their journey, at the very least the Lan disciples have lost most of their fear of Wei Wuxian, cultivator of darkness. He eventually becomes senior Wei, and he ribs them all with good nature as Lan Zhan stays behind and beside him, watchful but never overcrowding, a warm, comforting presence.

They finally reach the cloud recesses, and Wei Ying is ushered into the jingshi for the first time. He laughs at the austere decor, amused and fond as he settles down by Lan Zhan at the guqin.

The notes sound, resonant and rich with spiritual power, and Wei Ying feels Cleansing wash over him, then Rest, calming his mind as the music sinks into his empty, sluggish meridians.

“Thank you, Lan Zhan. It.. it feels better now. Clearer.”

Lan Zhan nods, hums a response, and finally he is there, close and clean and smelling of sandalwood, pressing his forehead into Wei Ying’s as he kisses him, chaste at first and then insistent, hungry. Wei Ying feels like he shouldn’t be allowed to have this, not while people are dying and hurting and maybe he could do something about it, but the spiritual power humming in his veins anchors him, reminds him that he is doing something, that this might, probably will be, more effective than whatever stupid plan he came up with without Lan Zhan.

For once, he decides to trust, and lets himself go, sinking into the steady wet warmth of Lan Zhan, tugging at him till he is lying atop Wei Ying, chest to chest and dark hair spilling around them, tickling Wei Ying’s nose.

“I still don’t believe you like me like this, Lan Zhan,” he teases, voice lilting as he cards his hands through Lan Zhan’s hair.

“Mn, I was not truthful before. You did not know because I was too afraid.” Lan Zhan’s voice is wry but open, and the warmth and honesty of it all bowls Wei Ying over. It’s dizzying, the knowledge.

“Aiya, you Lans and your show no feelings rules. I’ve been flirting with you for so long, and you didn’t know I liked you? Lan Zhan, I gave you cut sleeve porn!”

Lan Zhan sputters, pale skin giving way to a deep flush at the memory.

“I know now. Wei Ying can keep flirting with me, I will not misunderstand again.”

The determination in his voice makes Wei Ying laugh, terribly fond and almost normal again. He pulls him down for another kiss, and smiles into Lan Zhan’s mouth as he asks, “Did you read any of it? Did you think about doing any of that stuff to me, Lan Zhan?”

The thought makes a bolt of heat rush through his spine, and Wei Ying feels like he is drowning. Lan Zhan presses his face into his neck, embarrassed. Wei Ying heaves himself back up onto his elbows, taking Lan Zhan up with him. The shift pulls the fabric of his inner robe apart, exposing a wide expanse of collarbone and chest, the brand mark an angry welt on his left. The sight draws a breath out of Lan Zhan, who gently reaches fingers out to graze at the scar. Wei Ying’s breath hitches, and again, that bolt of heat curling in his body at the sight of Lan Zhan’s pale eyes darkening at the sound.

He licks his lips and summons some of that famous shamelessness that he is known for, pulling his robe open further in invitation. Lan Zhan’s eyes open even wider, and the sight of him staring at Wei Ying, lips spit slick and bruised, eyes wide and dark with his hair in disarray is enough to pry a groan out of Wei Ying.

“Lan Zhan, please, you can.” He clears his throat, and tries again, “You can touch me. In fact please, please Lan Zhan, I need, I want you to touch me.”

At those words, Lan Zhan finally moves, wide hands splaying on his chest as he runs his palms down Wei Ying’s body, callouses catching on smooth skin until they reach his belt, and after getting a breathless nod, he pulls the belt loose, parting his inner robe completely.

Wei Ying whines at the cold air against him, trying to hold off his embarrassment at being laid bare, flushed and aroused. He tugs at Lan Zhan’s robes, pulling them off his shoulder. Lan Zhan shrugs out of his own robes, bends down to kiss Wei Ying, and wraps his hand around him. He can’t help but gasp, hips bucking as Lan Zhan begins to stroke him, and Wei Ying is going insane, knowing that Lan Zhan is doing it. The thought of being the only one to see Lan Zhan like this, debauched and breathless, sends a thrill through him, and before he loses all his composure he grasps at Lan Zhan’s biceps, squeezing at them until Lan Zhan shifts further up, close enough for Wei Ying to reach down between them and-

Oh god.

Lan Zhan is thick and heavy in his hand, the soft, keening sound Lan Zhan makes when Wei Ying grasps him sends a jolt right through every vertebrae in him. He takes a shuddering breath, and wriggles down until their cocks are lined up against each other, gasping at the searing sensation of blessed, perfect contact. Lan Zhan’s fingers stroke the both of them together as Wei Ying gasps into his mouth, incoherent moans and pleading escaping him as he rocks up against the man he has loved for years without knowing that he was loved in turn. The cracking edge of loneliness and warmth chokes him, and he sobs a little, mindless with emotion and pleasure as he crests closer to the edge.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, please,” he breathes, “I’m close, please, please,” he trails off into more incoherent mumbles as Lan Zhan strokes them hard, once, twice, and Wei Ying throws his head back and arches against the hard floor, pleasure whiting out every other thought in his brain outside of Lan Zhan’s name, Lan Zhan’s body, Lan Zhan against him heavy and solid and perfect as he follows Wei Ying, hips and hands stuttering until they lie panting, pressed together in a sweaty tangle on the floor.

After some time Lan Zhan shifts up, leaving to grab a cloth to wipe them both clean before pulling Wei Ying up on his feet. He winces, rubbing his sore back.

“Lan Zhan, why didn’t we do this on your bed? You have a perfectly good bed right there!”

Lan Zhan hums, fond and warm.

“Next time,” he says, leading him to the bed and settling the covers around them as Wei Ying’s brain tries to process the idea of a next time, tucking it somewhere safe like an idea to be treasured. He smiles, warm and sated, snuggles closer to Lan Zhan, and drifts off to sleep, more content than he has been in a long time.

————-

In weeks, the rumours of the Wen camp in Qiongqi has spread far and wide, exaggerated and heated by the indignant murmurs of innkeepers and travellers spreading news where they go. The general dissent and disapproval from the people is palpable, and while that normally might not have any effect, many minor clans, many of which live more off taxation than actual exorcism and hunting, were starting to lean towards the general public. Coupled with the testimony of Lan Wangji, whose flawless reputation somehow caused the rumour that Wei Wuxian had been tamed and brought back to the light by the righteousness of the Lan clan, meant that the general animosity had been moved off from him and towards the Jin sect.

Caught between wanting to bristle at the idea of needing to be tamed and somewhat pleased that Lan Wangji’s reputation didn’t seem to suffer much from his acquaintance, Wei Ying endeavoured to fan the rumours, behaving relatively nicely while maintaining some roguish impertinence to ward off any suspicions.

He goes back to Lotus Pier, drinks his shijie's soup and finally apologises to both her and Jiang Cheng for making them worry. He doesn’t tell them about the core, but he tells them about being thrown into the burial mounds, how he had to fight his way out with resentful energy, and talks about how it makes him angry and violent. He apologises, and means it.

Jiang Cheng’s hands are clenched at his sides, and Wei Ying thinks he’s going to get yelled at before he’s roughly pulled in for a hug, too tight to be called comfortable, but he wants to cry all the same.

“You idiot,” Jiang Cheng grits out, and Wei Ying laughs and pats his back, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat when he feels Yanli join the hug from behind. For a moment, it feels like they’re children again, huddled together in the dark.

When they finally pull free, he and Jiang Cheng talk.

“What about the resentful energy now?” He asks, evidently confused by the general lack of dark foreboding brooding that Wei Ying is doing.

“Ah, Lan Zhan is helping me. His ah, guqin keeps it under control so I can practice controlling it,” he explains, sticking to the truth. His brother seems surprised at that, and Wei Ying can see the moment his brother comes to his conclusion, the familiar brows furrowing as he nods in assent.

“I’m glad he’s willing to do that for you, then.” Everything else he is thinking goes unsaid, but Wei Ying smiles, understanding. He thinks, with this, the relationship between YunmengJiang and GusuLan might improve, if Jiang Cheng upholds propriety and gives due thanks to the Lan sect for helping a member of the Jiang sect. For the first time in months, Wei Ying settles into that knowledge that he still has a place in Lotus Pier.

They talk about the Wen clan next, almost coming to an argument again. But the notes of Lan Zhan’s guqin are still humming in his veins, and he stills himself, patient, remembering all the things that Jiang Cheng is. He knows now that Jiang Cheng is scared, angry and hurting, and wants his revenge wholly. He feels small to Wei Ying, now, and it is clear to him, without the resentment crawling in his lungs, to give his shidi what he needs.

He pulls Jiang Cheng roughly into another hug, tight, and lets his grief for Lotus Pier bleed through honestly, for the one person who would understand, who was there with him all.

“Jiang Cheng, I know. I want to burn everything to the ground for them too.” He shakes his brother, who is still a little shell shocked at the embrace, anger and grief in his eyes as he tries to understand why Wei Ying doesn’t want to kill every person named Wen. He tries to swallow the anger bitter betrayal and listen to his brother.

“I was there too. I wanted everyone dead. I used the dead and had them rip Wen cultivators apart till you couldn’t even tell their corpses were human anymore.”

Jiang Cheng nods, and lets him continue.

“Think of Wen Qing and Wen Ning, shidi. Think about Shi Jie,”

Jiang Cheng jerks at the mention of their sister.

“Do you really think she’d be okay with us running around and killing a bunch of children and old people? Are you okay with letting her see us go so low?”

Jiang Cheng falls to his knees, bringing Wei Ying down with him. His grip on Wei Ying’s arm is tight, and Wei Ying feels the fury and grief and sorrow, knows his brother feels things fully, incandescently, just like his mothers zidian, and Wei Ying holds him through it.

“Then what am I supposed to do, Wei Wuxian? I can’t just let it go. They’re gone, and there’s nothing else I can do!”

Wei Ying pulls him up, forcing his back straight and chin high.

“Shidi, we do the right thing. We do the right thing because that’s what shushu taught us, so shijie can still smile at us. When she has kids with that stupid peacock, we can take care of them with our heads held high and tell them we were the good guys. They’re gone,” And at this, Wei Ying chokes a little, the words thick on his tongue, uncomfortable in the way that honesty always is, but he tries.

“Theyre gone, but we’re still here. I’m still here, shijie is still here. We can’t forget that.”

Jiang Cheng presses his eyes shut, and Wei Ying knows that every instinct is screaming inside him. He waits, knowing his brother, hoping that the boy he grew up with is still there, the boy who is quick to anger but quick to forgive, who loves harder than he hates. He hopes he has reached him, the way Lan Zhan had, reminded him of the lighter things he has forgotten.

Jiang Cheng nods, eventually, resolute, bitter.

“The Yunmeng Jiang clan will do what needs to be done.”

———-

Lan Zhan conces Lan Xichen easily, knowing his brother walks with virtue in his path. Instead of discussing whether or not to help, the discuss how to help, in a way that is in keeping with the limitations and powers of their sect.

Lan Qiren, proud that the Lan sect has been attributed to bringing Wei Wuxian into decorum and propriety, credits Wangji and Xichen, and listens to their petition, clearly listing the responsibilities their sect to live by their rules, to uphold virtute and not tolerate arrogance, cruelty, and violence.

Lan Qiren signs and stamps his name, aligning GusuLan with the other sects petitioning for non-cultivator Wen civilians to be released, in return for "the recognition by all clans herein to pledge allegiance to a Jin sect that is wholly unaffiliated with the very actions that led to the Sunshot Campaign.". The threat of another uprising from the united front of the major sects is very much implied.

The pressure is unanimous, and the Jin sect, wary of another campaign against them, decide that a bunch of commoners are not worth the censure and trouble they are receiving. A couple branch families are made scapegoats, and the Wen civilians are released to a shouldering Qishan.

They eventually settle, moving further to the outskirts of Qishan province where the fires have not spread, and change their names to a different character Wen, to start rebuilding their lives.

Wei Ying visits with Lan zhan, delivering supplies as reparations. It feels like absolution, to see turnips and potatoes sprout after some time passes, green and tender. He buys Wen Yuan toys, throws him in the air and drinks with the uncles in the new Wen village.

Lan Zhan talks to Wen Qing about Wei Ying's core, finds out what he can do to at least help alleviate the physical symptoms of a body used to having one, that now must do without.

Wen Qing gives him a list of herbs that Wei Ying must take nightly, as well as a reminder that Cleansing must be played after every battle that Wei Ying fights with resentful energy.

Lan Zhan nods, grateful. He will always be happy to play for Wei Ying.

They return home to the cloud recesses, pausing on the way to stop by the one month celebration of Jin Ling. Wei Ying has made a bell for him, and Lan Zhan has brought a tiny flute, small enough for a young child to play, when he is old enough.

----

When they finally are done paying respects and enter the safe haven of the jingshi, Wei Ying lets out the breath he has been holding onto.

"We did it, Lan Zhan. The Wens are safe, I have a nephew, I can't.. I can't really believe it."

Lan Zhan pauses from setting up the guqin, walking over softly to pull Wei Ying into him.

"Do I really.. can I really have this?" Wei Ying asks, and Lan Zhan tightens his arms around him.

"Yes, Wei Ying. You can have this."

He kisses his forehead, his temples, and pulls him towards the guqin to soothe the ache in his beloved's bones.

After Cleansing, after Rest, he plays WangXian -forget envy- the two of their names a song he imbues with the depth of his love, and lets his spiritual energy suffuse the notes that sink into Wei Ying’s meridians, enough to soothe the ache.

When the song ends, Wei Ying is calm and warm and soothed, and they go to bed amidst soft touches, curled up around each other.

----

The "treatment plan", as Wen Qing puts it, works, and for the most part Wei Ying manages to cultivate his demonic path in peace without it taking a hold of him. He spends his days tinkering, coming up with talismans and inventions that change the way cultivators have worked for centuries.

He takes the juniors on night hunts, relishing in thr act of teaching, of being surrounded by people and laughter and the thrill of improvement.

He goes to Lotus Pier regularly, even though he has made his home in Gusu with Lan Zhan, at which Jiang Cheng scowls and punches his arm to hide how happy he is for Wei Ying. He helps, when he can, with the rebuilding of YunmengJiang, lends his expertise and mediates between GusuLan and YunmengJiang.

He visits his nephew Jin Ling even more, teasing him and teaching him. With Jiang Yanli's influence, his pride is tempered by humility, his anger is wielded towards injustice, and his laughter is free and clear like a chime when he plays with his uncle, getting in trouble for stealing lotus seed pods and running amok.

---

He goes home, to the Cloud Recesses, to find his husband, to drag him out to go play with rabbits and otherwise do mischief instead of working.

Pulling Lan Zhan to him, he kisses him.

"Thank you, Lan Zhan, for staying that day on Phoenix Mountain. You could have run away, but you didn't, and I'm here now because of you."

Lan Zhan pulls him close, and murmurs against soft hair.

"Between us, there is no need for thanks or apologies, Wei Ying."

He walks amongst the cloud recesses, feeds rabbits with Lan Zhan, and is content, no longer alone.

#mo dao su zhi #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangi #wangxian #lan zhan #wei ying #fix-it fic #Look its been four years since I've written and I got dragged back after reading MXTX novels so here we are #I don't know how many people i know are still on here but uh i guess im a MDZS fan now #Tbh i don't really remember the feeling of writing much at all #but it was nice #to come back to this again #Weirdly embarassed about it but uh thanks for reading ig

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trilliastra · 5 years ago

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[Xicheng AU because I love writing about Jiang Cheng.]

Jiang Cheng immediately knows something is wrong when Jin Ling shows up unannounced, claiming to be missing home and collapsing on the chair across from Jiang Cheng's table.

It makes him happy to know that his nephew still thinks of Lotus Pier as home and even happier when he realizes Jin Ling came to him in search of comfort. He hides his smile with a cough, looking back at his paper work as he waits for Jin Ling to start talking, by the way he's fidgeting in his seat, Jiang Cheng knows it will be soon.

“How do I confess my love to someone?” Jin Ling asks, startling him.

“Do I look like someone who has been in love?” Jiang Cheng questions back, confused. He doesn't mean to sound harsh, but he was taken back by the question, even more when he understands why Jin Ling is asking.

His nephew is in love.

“Well,” Jin Ling coughs, his entire face getting red, “I thought that – since you and Sect Leader Lan –” he trails off, averting Jiang Cheng's eyes.

Jiang Cheng blinks, confused. Him and – Lan Xichen? He sits up straighter, takes a deep breath. This is the one time he needs Wei Wuxian and where is he now?

“Start making sense.” He orders, eyes fixed on his nephew. Jin Ling groans, frustrated, getting up and starting to pace around the room.

“I don't know.” The boy says, throwing his hands up. “Every time I'm around Sizhui my heart starts beating faster and when he touches me, my hands start to shake and I want to run away when he looks at me. It's awful! But – but when I think about him I want to – smile?” True to his words, his expression softens and Jiang Cheng notices the barest quirk of his lips. Well, well. “Uncle, please.” Jin Ling comes to him, drops his hands on Jiang Cheng's shoulders. “You love Sect Leader Lan, right? Haven't you thought about –”

“I – what?” He asks, standing up. Jin Ling takes a step back, surprised. “Me and – Lan Xichen – you – what are you talking about, boy?”

This is preposterous! He will kill whoever started this rumor, Lan Xichen has left seclusion not many months ago, the last thing he needs is to deal with senseless, ridiculous, hearsay!

“Please,” Jin Ling scoffs, he is spending way too much time with Wei Wuxian, “you visited him every month. The disciples said every time you travel to Gusu, you come back smiling. And last winter, you asked me to find his favorite tea! You even said you wanted to give him for his birthday!”

“That – does not mean anything. I – I give you gifts on your birthday, I –”

“Well, that's because you love me.” Jin Ling throws back, blushing, but clearly smiling. And Jiang Cheng – has no answer to that.

How can he deny, when it's true? He does visit Gusu every month and he spends most of his time with Lan Xichen. At first it was a way to avoid Wei Wuxian, but he soon started enjoying the other man's company, sharing their burden as Sect Leaders and the anger, a feeling that always accompanied Jiang Cheng, but is still new to Lan Xichen.

After some weeks, Jiang Cheng realized he missed talking to someone who wouldn't judge him, missed being just a man and not a leader. With Lan Xichen he could be free to smile, to laugh or cry, to confess his fears over losing Jin Ling to Wei Wuxian, or – losing Jin Ling forever, and even worse, losing Wei Wuxian again.

Lan Xichen is the truest friend he's ever had and he treasures his thoughts, looks forward to seeing him happy, and if buying tea is what it takes to make Lan Xichen smile then Jiang Cheng will buy him all the tea in the world.

“Oh no.” Jiang Cheng blinks, surprised at him own thoughts. He collapses back on his chair, stares at his shaking hands before closing them in a fist. He is in love Lan Xichen.

How the fuck did that happen?

“Are you –” Jin Ling starts, tentative.

Jiang Cheng looks up at his nephew, eyes wide. “I – no, I don't think I am.” Jin Ling's mouth opens in surprise at Jiang Cheng's sudden confession before he's kneeling in front of him.

“Are you sick?” He asks. “I should call –”

“No.” He stops Jin Ling from moving with a hand on his wrist. “I – you should just tell him.” Jiang Cheng says, staring at his nephew. When the boy started growing up and looking even more like his father, Jiang Cheng hated it. Jin Zixuan wasn't a bad man, but Jiang Yanli was just too good, too nice. He couldn't help but think that had she not married into the Jin Clan, Jiang Cheng could have protected her, even from Wei Wuxian. But when Jin Ling laughed, carefree, he remembered exactly how much his sister loved her son, not just because he was hers, but because he was also Jin Zixuan's.

Love is a weird, beautiful thing.

“Uncle –”

“Your father was scared.” Jiang Cheng starts. “Of telling your mother, I mean.” He adds, and Jin Ling scoots closer, always eager to hear more about his parents. Jiang Cheng feels a pang of guilt, he should've been better at that. “They lost too much time.”

“But – what if –” Jin Ling swallows, looks down, “what if he doesn't –”

“Then you will know.” Jiang Cheng says, touching Jin Ling's face carefully. “And you won't spend the rest of your life wondering about what could have been.”

Jin Ling nods before throwing himself at him. “You should follow your own advice.”

“It's different.” Jiang Cheng whispers.

“How?”

Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath, hugs Jin Ling tighter.

Because he knows Lan Xichen – still – loves someone else.

–

Jin Ling leaves for Lanling the next day and Jiang Cheng has to get used to the silence and having meals alone again. The biggest difference from before – before Wei Wuxian came back to life, before Jiang Cheng realized his own skills aren’t his alone – are the letters that arrive every day, they are mostly from Jin Ling but on occasion he finds one from Wei Wuxian and he feels his chest hurt.

And then there are the ones from Lan Xichen. He gets one every day and he has to hide his smile until the disciple that delivered it to him has left the room.

He can't believe he was so blind not to realize how happy Lan Xichen makes him, how his heart races when he thinks about the other man, how he longs to hear his voice and dreams about seeing him every night. But being aware of his feelings makes it harder to go through the day as he knows nothing will ever come of it. As usual, he isn't the one, just someone running after the unattainable.

–

He shouldn't be surprised when Jin Ling comes to him again. His nephew seems happy now and he carries himself like a person who could conquer the world. If Sizhui ever hurt him, Jiang Cheng will kill him, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s feelings be damned.

“Shouldn't you be taking care of your Sect?” Jiang Cheng asks. He feels petty and stupid for feeling disappointed when his nephew is so happy. Just another thing on his list of failures.

“Yes,” Jin Ling answers, narrowing his eyes at him, “I should. But you haven't been answering my letters and you haven't visited Gusu since our conversation.” He points out. Jiang Cheng turns away, yells for the disciples to resume the training and they all rush to comply.

“I have been busy.” He answers, gesturing around.

“I know when you're lying.” Jin Ling points out. He looks around, lowers his voice. “Sizhui told me Sect Leader Lan misses you.”

Jiang Cheng swallows heavily, tries to ignore the way his heart starts to beat faster. “This does not –”

“You are his friend,” Jin Ling interrupts, softly, “even if you will never be anything else, you are still his friend.”

Jiang Cheng feels himself getting sick, shame invading his body. He's done it again, he just hurt another person, broke their trust, let them down. But that's just how he is, isn't it? Cruel, worthless. A fraud.

“Leave.” He growls, when Jin Ling doesn't obey he pushes him away, “leave.” When the boy still doesn't move, only stares at him with a sad expression so like his mother’s, Jiang Cheng turns around and runs.

–

That night he dreams about his siblings. His sister is cooking while he and Wei Wuxian play around in the lake, when he's suddenly pulled away by the darkness, he screams for help, tries to fight it, but he can't free himself. The light gets farther and farther away.

He wakes up in the middle of the night crying, the darkness threatening to swallow him whole.

–

Jiang Cheng reaches Gusu when the sun starts to rise. His eyes are stinging with tears when he reaches Lan Xichen's house and his hands are shaking when he knocks on the door.

“Wanyin.” Lan Xichen says, soft and surprised, as he opens the door. Like a true Lan, he's already dressed, hair tied up on his customary style and ready to start his day. “Is everything alright?” He asks, leading Jiang Cheng inside the house.

Jiang Cheng doesn't answer, just falls on his knees in front of the other man and lets himself cry. He wants to apologize but everything hurts too much, he's tired of fighting his feelings, of hiding them inside, of feeling like a burden. Tired of not being loved.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “I should have, I –” He closes his mouth as those three words threaten to spill out. He can't do this to Lan Xichen, he can't add to the weight the other man already carries on his shoulders. “I'm sorry.” He repeats, shaking his head. He came to Gusu on impulse and now he just wants to flee again.

Jiang Cheng flinches when he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Wanyin,” Lan Xichen whispers, kneeling too, “you can tell me. Let me share this pain with you.”

“I can't –”

“This is my choice.” Lan Xichen interrupts him, a hand on Jiang Cheng's face. “Please.” When Jiang Cheng looks up, Lan Xichen's is staring at him. There's no judgment on his expression, only fondness.

No one's ever looked at him like that since his sister died.

“I love you.” Jiang Cheng finds himself saying. “I shouldn't – and I don't expect anything from it. I just – couldn't help it.” He looks down, embarrassed. “I love you, Xichen.”

“Oh, Wanyin.” Lan Xichen says and when Jiang Cheng glances up, he finds the other man smiling.

“Xichen –”

Lan Xichen's smile widens. “I love you, too.” Jiang Cheng blinks, speechless. Is he still dreaming? “I do. I love you.” He repeats, taking Jiang Cheng's hand and bringing it to his lips. “How could I not? You're incredible.”

“No.” Jiang Cheng shakes his head as more tears threaten to fall. “I am not – Xichen, you –” he takes a deep breath, “you love Jin –”

“I loved someone who never existed.” Lan Xichen corrects, softly. “But you,” he tightens his hold on Jiang Cheng's hand, “you are nothing but yourself. Honest, brave. Flawed? Yes, but who isn't?” He smiles. “I love all of you.”

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng finds himself getting pulled into a warm hug and the tears he was trying to hold start to fall again. “Thank you.” He whispers, holding Lan Xichen tightly.

“Thank you.” Lan Xichen says, pressing a kiss on his head. “For giving me hope and making me realize I'm worthy of being loved. I promise,” he whispers, softly, “that I will do the same for you.”

Jiang Cheng doesn't know how long they stay like that, but later, when Lan Wangji comes to meet his brother, he finds them holding each other and sharing words of love.

#xicheng #jiang cheng x lan xichen #the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #my fic

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drwcn · 4 years ago

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discordance!verse part 7: an interesting morning in jingshi, Lan Wangji is shameless, much to the shock of Wei Wuxian. rated M??T??

in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair.

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis] OR

see [discau tag] or [discordance navigation page] for all installments

(~10 days before part 5/6)

Wei Wuxian wakes up slowly, warm and comfortable. The first thing he sees is the green bamboo shoots past the white tulle curtains, just outside the window, and the droplet of dew glistening under the morning sun. It had rained some time during the early hours; he recalls drifting to sleep listening to the muffled pitter-patter against Jingshi's roof, Lan Zhan curled at his side…

Lan Zhan is still there, fast asleep, as though he hasn't moved an inch all night. He is pressed against Wei Wuxian's shoulder, one arm thrown across his chest, every even breath a gentle breeze across his neck.

Even in sleep, Lan Zhan is a vision. That peerless face which others find cold and intimidating, is relaxed and open. Thick lashes kiss pink flushed cheeks. Soft full lips part minutely, still a bit swollen. Long silk hair runs like ink between Wei Wuxian's fingers.

He releases a soft affectionate huff, pulling the covers more securely around them both. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, ready to indulge in sleep for another couple more hours. He doesn't know why they don't do this more often, it's so nice…

Wait!

His eyes snap open, all thoughts of sleep vanishing instantly.

Fuck! We slept in!

There's a very good reason why he and Lan Zhan never wake up warm, coddled together in a patch of morning sun like two aristocratic cats: it's because Cloud Recesses' rules are fucking nightmares - and also because he and Lan Zhan are technically, technically in an illicit affair - but mostly because of Cloud Recesses’ rules. Lan Zhan always has to get up at a quarter before mao-shi to sneak back to hanshi so he could continue the charade of having woken up in the bed he definitely didn't sleep in.

Judging by the angle of sunlight spilling into the room, it must be at least si-shi by now, a whole two shichen later than when Lan Zhan is usually up and about…

Oh ffffffuuuck -

Dap, dap, dap!

There are three polite knocks at the door. A disciple's hesitant voice echoes from the other side.

"W-Wei-jun? Are you in there?"

He can hear the anxiety clearly in their tone. Because of course they must be frantic! Lan Zhan's secretarial disciple would've gone in to bring him his breakfast, like he does every morning, and discovered Hanguang-jun's bed and sheets as cold as ice and Lan Wangji himself nowhere to be found.

It's been at least four hours, Cloud Recesses must be having a full blown panic attack by now!!

Wei Wuxian jolts up from bed and is torn between feeling sorry and amazed when that exaggerated movement only manages to elicit an incoherent grumble from Lan Zhan.

Oblivious to Wei Wuxian's impending meltdown, Lan Wangji curls a little deeper into the covers, but does not wake up.

No time to worry about that, Wei Wuxian yanks the covers over Lan Wangji's head to cover him and pads across the matted floor to the clothing rack. He can't answer the door even if he wants to; he's completely fucking naked.

Wei Wuxian is just about finished with the ties of his second layer of robes when the disciple speaks again,

"Wei-jun?! Are you in there?! Many apologies for disturbing you…but - but it's urgent! Please, could you open the door?"

For the first time since the death of his husband, Wei Wuxian is glad for his widower status. As the previous Sect Master's yishu 遗属, it would be bad etiquette for lower disciples to barge into his private residence without invite. Not that any of them would be capable: the seal Wei Wuxian placed on the inside of the door last night is an invention of his own. He's confident that no more than a dozen cultivators of their time can break it without expending serious spiritual energy.

Thank goodness last-night-me had the foresight to do that…

Though, he does wonder why it's a bunch of disciples and not someone like Lan Qiren knocking on his door. His nerves calm by half a fraction. If they're coming to me, perhaps they haven't directed this particular issue to higher authorities. Probably doesn't want to give the grandpas an impromptu stroke by declaring Lan Zhan missing…

Wei Wuxian shrugs on his outer layer, and in the calmest, most put-upon voice he can manage, he answers, "What is it? I am feeling poorly this morning."

"Begging your pardon, Wei-jun, it's just…Hanguang-jun, uhm, we can't find Hanguang-jun."

Glancing behind his shoulder, Wei Wuxian winces as he sees Lan Wangji stirring, turning onto his back and shoving the covers out of the way.

"Ah, yes, Hanguang-jun," replies Wei Wuxian, channeling his inner Lan Qiren and attempting his most authoritative tone of voice. "Sect Master has informed me that he’s gone on a…a meditative trek. It's been some time since he's been able to cultivate in peace. He will be returning shortly. No need…no need to worry the Elders."

Through the thin walls, he hears a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness. Forgive us for disturbing you, Wei-jun. If you're feeling unwell, should a healer be sent for -"

"No! No, that's quite alright. I'll be fine. Return to your studies. Do not dally." Wei Wuxian quickly dismisses the disciples.

Ear pressed against the door, he listens to their footsteps walking away until he can't hear anything but the sparrows chirping in the woods. Letting out the breath he’s been holding anxiously in his chest, Wei Wuxian pads himself in relief.

Crisis averted.

When he turns around, Lan Wangji is sitting up in bed, staring dazedly at him.

"I slept in. It's very late, isn't it?"

The sight of him like that, blankets gathered at the waist, pale chest bared and hair unbound, immediately steals from Wei Wuxian the breath he’d only just been able to catch.

Hanguang-jun is truly the Light Bearer, he laments, mindless of the smile that overtakes him. Even the sun seems to be drawn to the good Lan Zhan. Streaming onto the bed from the window behind, morning sunlight enshrouds his entire being and condenses into a soft halo around him, as if to remind the world that this man is blessed by the gods.

Yet this god-chosen man, destined for immortality, has given himself over to Wei Wuxian last night, delivered into his hands, with pure trust and a small smile in the dark.

Wei Wuxian feels the back of his neck heat up from the memory. Get yourself together, Wei Wuxian, you flagrant degenerate, it’s practically midday.

"Wei Ying, I…" Lan Wangji averts his eyes as Wei Wuxian takes a seat beside him, holding his clothes ready for him.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, don't be embarrassed." Wei Wuxian chuckles, reaching out to twirl a strand of Lan Wangji's hair around his finger teasingly. "So you slept in, happens to the best of us."

Leaning forward and pecking a chaste kiss to his forehead, Wei Wuxian hands him his robes and says, "Alright, come on, let's get up. You have to work, and I have to assist my venerated Hanguang-jun. A bath and some breakfast - I told the disciples I'm not feeling my best, they'll probably send whatever I ask for. Nobody ever has to know our Sect Master was sleeping the morning away."

The tip of Lan Wangji's ears turns pink, but instead of accepting the garbs the other man holds out to him, he shifts closer and winds his arms around Wei Wuxian shamelessly. "Yes perhaps, but I am not entirely to blame."

This time, Wei Wuxian does blush. He draws his head back, aghast. "L-Lan Zhan! H-how could you say such a thing in broad daylight!

"Is it not so?" Lan Wangji rests his chin against his lover's shoulder and pivots his head almost accusingly.

Wei Wuxian sputters. Why you shameless little - you - I -

Memories from the night before come rushing back: Lan Zhan's earnest open face when he asked Wei Wuxian to indulge him, climbing onto his lap and whispering into his ear exactly what he wanted. Wei Wuxian is used to Lan Zhan taking charge. It’s been that way since the two of them became intimate. He’s thrilled, more than thrilled, to share those stolen moments with Lan Zhan. In fact, it always does funny wonderful things to him to see the disciplined Hanguang-jun let loose the way he does when they’re together.

But to have his Lan Zhan laying under him, arching and trembling and falling apart for him, his name uttered by those heavenly lips like an answer, a spell, a prayer…How does any reasonable man come back from that?

Oh my god…I - I deflowered the Second Jade of Gusu… Wei Wuxian realizes with a jolt, suddenly hot under the collar. It's not that the implication didn't occur to him yesterday, but the weight of his actions had not fully sunk in until now. It's probably not a coincidence that Lan Wangji, who has never overslept a day in his life, fails to keep to his rigid internal clock after Wei Wuxian spent most of the night having his ways with him.

When did they even go to actual sleep? It couldn't have been any time before midnight. Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, you fool, you absolute idiot, how could you have done this?! You should've been more careful!!

…Lan Zhan had been so careful with me…

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji calls his name, arms still locked around him. "You told them I'd be gone for a while yet, yes?"

Wei Wuxian frowns, not sure where he's headed. "Yeah?"

Lan Wangji shuffles closer, one of his hands travelling across the front of Wei Wuxian's robes until he finds the knotted sash. Blinking innocently, he says without a shred of pretense, "I do not doubt your skills, but my memories of last night are a little vague. Perhaps you ought to demonstrate for me again, as a reminder?"

For a long, long moment, neither of them move, Lan Wangji's request apparently having shocked Wei Wuxian into petrified silence. He does nothing but stare back at him, so much so Lan Wangji begins to wonder if he went a little too far with the teasing. But then Wei Wuxian's expression shifts, something raw and hungry flashing across his face. The next moment, Lan Wangji is flipped over onto his front, the covers yanked off exposing his pale bare form, every inch a perfection.

Lan Wangji shivers, more reactionary than actually cold. He can feel Wei Ying's gaze on him, heated and appreciative, and as much as he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, he squirms under the scrutiny.

"Wei Y-"

But the weight of Wei Ying's body is suddenly flush against his back, and Lan Wangji notices with a start that while he is thoroughly bare, Wei Ying is mostly dressed and does not appear to be in any hurry to change that.

Does Wei Ying really intend to take him while fully clothed?! Somehow the thought doesn't bother him, not in the least. Rather, it spurs him on, sparking the desire that simmers just beneath his skin.

His hair is swept to side; Lan Wangji groans as a pair of lips press a hot, open mouthed kiss against his neck behind one redden ear.

"One would think, Hanguang-jun, that requesting physical intimacy in the middle of the day counts for misbehaviour."

The needy kiss transforms into a sharp bite.

Lan Wangji suffocates a groan, shuddering as the kiss trails between his shoulder blades and lower. For a few minutes, all he can focus on is the touch of hands and lips and tongue mapping out the planes of his body and wringing from him wonderful pleasures that he would not otherwise so easily relinquish.

"As the once disciplinary officer of Cloud Recesses," continues Wei Ying, lifting Lan Zhan by the hips and pushing him onto his knees. "Please enlighten us the appropriate consequences."

Wei Ying sounds very much like a cat savouring its play time with its poor prey before devouring it alive. Although Lan Wangji would never admit it out loud even under duress, he can confess to himself in the safety of his mind that this fate is exactly what he wants.

The Wei Ying of last night was careful, gentle, and steadfast despite being nervous.That Wei Ying had held his hands, lacing their fingers together, and whispered sweet lovely things as he brought them to their heights and back. Lan Wangji wasn't lying when he said his memories were a bit fuzzy; the entire experience had been…a lot.

However, Wei Ying in the morning is a whole different beast, and Lan Zhan aches just imagining what waits ahead. He wants him, by god, he wants him.

"One would think, Wei-jun," Lan Wangji manages to grit out, "that as someone who holds the highest running record of punishments received during his guest disciple days, you would be more than acquainted with Cloud Recesses' method of discipl - ah!"

The cry is ripped from his throat before he could help it. Panting, Lan Wangji writhes against the sheets and marvels a little at just how readily he receives what Wei Ying gives him.

But Wei Ying's tone loses its playfulness right away. "Lan Zhan -" The hand that threads through his hair is light and the following kiss on his left shoulder is tender. "- are you - are you hurt? Was I -"

Perhaps that cry sounded more distressed than he actually was. Lan Wangji turns his head to meet Wei Ying's worried gaze and melts a little. Blood is roaring in his ears and he is hot all over, but the warm cocoon that envelops his heart has nothing to do with lust.

Wei Ying presses another soft, comforting kiss against the shell of his ear and then another against his temple. "Say something, should I stop?"

Stop?! If this endearing idiot even thinks about stopping now Lan Wangji will absolutely smack him out of pure frustration.

Catching his breath, he pushes back against Wei Wuxian and is immensely satisfied when the other man shudders in response. Reveling in the knowledge that he is the only one to ever see Wei Ying this way, he does it again. This time, the hands gripping his deviant hips are no longer gentle.

"Are you going to make good on my punishments," challenges Lan Wangji, batting his lashes, infinitesimally coy. "Or were those merely empty threats?"

The speed at which Wei Ying's eyes darken with desire almost makes Lan Wangji regret his impertinence. But then he is being thrust forward without warning, the unexpected motion hitting that spot inside him that makes his toes curl and his vision go white, and he instantly regrets nothing.

"W-Wei Ying…"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is aware that he is being objectively loud, but it really isn't his fault. Who in their right mind would expect him to be silent when he is being railed into the bed like both their immortalities depended on it. He just hopes Wei Ying has the good sense to cast a silencing talisman (lucky for them, he did).

Lan Zhan moans into the sheets, his eyes rolling back. How on earth is he so wrecked so quickly?! What is Wei Ying doing to him? In this position, he is completely at his lover's mercy, but he doesn't want to fight it, not at all. Clutching the wooden headboard, Lan Wangji surrenders the last bit of his self-control and submerges under the waves of sensations and sounds and bliss.

Lan Zhan is quiet afterwards, soaking in the bath Wei Wuxian prepared for him. Wei Wuxian wipes himself down perfunctorily, changes into fresh robes and then proceeds to meticulously tidy the bed. The sheets are…probably not salvageable. He'll have to burn them or bury them, because there's no way he can hand them over to the disciples on laundry duty in the state that they're in. Even he can't talk his way out of that one.

When he's sure there is no more incriminating evidence of their activities, Wei Wuxian rounds behind the screen to find Lan Zhan exactly where he'd left him.

Eyes closed, he looks so young. It's not fair how everything must fall to him now. Lan Zhan never complains, but he must be exhausted after all that's happened since the end of last year.

His heart squeezing tightly, Wei Wuxian picks up a wash cloth and sits down by the tub. Lovely eyes flutter open just as he runs the warm towel over the round of Lan Zhan's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asks softly, wiping a bit of dried spent from Lan Zhan's chin. "Was I too rough?"

The tip of Lan Zhan's ears turns pink again. He shakes his head, taking Wei Wuxian's hand and caresses his knuckles. "No, you were perfect."

Still, something nags Wei Wuxian in the mind of his mind. Their hands still clasped together, he shifts closer and searches Lan Zhan's face.

"Lan Zhan, what brought this on? Last night and this morning. You know I don't mind being the …uhm…" Blushing, he clears his throat, suddenly thin-skinned. Damn it, Wei Wuxian, get it together. "You know I don’t mind being the way we were before. Love it in fact, can't get enough of it even. I don't want you to think I expect you to - uhm - return the favour... as it were."

Lan Zhan's eyes are serious but also bright and earnest with understanding and intent. He thumbs the blush on Wei Wuxian's cheek, curling his fingers around his nape.

"I'm yours now, Wei Ying." He says, voice hushed but resolve firm. "Do you understand? No more nonsense about finding me a proper husband, or a wife to bear me heirs, or any talk of that kind. Even if the Elders bar me from marrying you on the account of you being my brother's widower, I'm yours, and you're not allowed to abandon me. I won't have it."

"Lan Zhan..." The back of his throat grows unbearably tight. Wei Wuxian feels as though he could cry. He remembers their conversation back in Qishan when he saw Lan Zhan with little Wen Yuan and the ensuing row they had afterwards. It was perhaps the first and only time Lan Zhan lost his temper with him. He'd been so angry, so hurt, that Wei Ying would even suggest he should marry another.

Wei Wuxian, if you truly want me to be with someone else, then what, tell me, are we doing now?!

Wei Wuxian squeezes his hand, pressing a heartbroken kiss to his palm, then another, then another. He feels horrible with himself. How could he not realize earlier? Is this why Lan Zhan had been so insistent?

"Lan Zhan, my good Lan Zhan, you didn't have to - I won't leave you, Lan Zhan, I promised you, I won't. You have me, you'll always have me, you didn't have to -"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji interrupts him, seeing his self-deprecating tendencies are once again leading him down the wrong line of thought. "I want you, want to be with you. Last night was not solely to drive home a point. Even if I did want to make a point, it would only be part of the reason, minimal at best, and certainly would not account for this morning.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, swallowing thickly. "And the real reason?"

"Well, surely it's very telling." Lan Wangji inches closer. The angle of the round tub makes it awkward but he doesn't care. A smile playing at his lips, he whispers into the other man's ear and delights at the way Wei Ying pulls back with a scandalized cry.

"Lan Zhan!"

Wei Wuxian is sure that his entire face is on fire. Who would've thought the esteemed Hanguang-jun could be such a lethal combination of imaginative mind and dirty mouth?!

But Lan Wangji only chuckles, nuzzling his neck. "Thank you for being so obliging, Wei Ying. I hope I was not too much of a burden."

I’m going to cry, thinks Wei Wuxian, I’m actually going to cry. Inside his chest, his heart has swelled so incredibly that he feels it will burst any second. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, my good Lan-er-gege," he chants, over and over, peppering the lightest and sweetest of kisses along Lan Wangji's face. "You can't say things like that without warning! My heart can't take it!"

"Mn,” Lan Wangji purrs.“You'll live."

"Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, what am I going to do with you?" Wei Wuxian sighs, holding the other man by the curve of his jaw and smiles that sunshine smile.

"Stuck with me, I'm afraid. Hasn't anyone told you?" Lan Zhan peers at him through hooded eyes. "Us Gusu Lans, we're rooks."

"Rooks?"

"Rooks mate for life."

At that, Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Wangji impossibly close and silences him with a deep, long kiss.

[part 8]

yishu 遗属 - family that is left behind through death.

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2

of the wwx emperor au which probably won’t get a title before we get to chapter 30

Prologue

Chapter 1

By the time the small contingent of the Lan Sect leaves YiLing proper and begins their trip to the Immortal Mountain, the sun is slowly sinking beyond the horizon. They will be arriving late, but late is better than not showing at all, and the Lan Sect, more than any other, cannot afford to make missteps.

They had left six days ago to travel a distance that should have taken four days to cross. Lan XiChen now thinks that no advanced departure would have made a difference. Every step of the way, in every town they passed, in every inn where they had attempted to take a meal or beds for the night, they had met with some form of resistance. A few times, the innkeepers had been kind enough to come up with a believable excuse. It is the Emperor’s birthday, the second largest festival of the year. Many people were traveling to YiLing. There is simply no way to accommodate them all on their travels.

Most of the time, however, the Lan Sect had not been given the pretense of courtesy. In MoLing, where the Lan Sect had spent decades serving the populace, the innkeeper had gone as far as to spit at their feet. WangJi had drawn his sword, and the guards of the Mo Clan, drunkenly occupying two of the tables, had drawn theirs in response. It had taken XiChen nearly two hours to talk their way out of MoLing without any blood being shed.

They had stopped rarely since then, and only when necessary. Lan LiJun’s horse had thrown a shoe outside YunMeng; it had taken them an entire day to find a farrier who would not slam a door in their face. A particularly vicious autumn storm had washed away a bridge outside YiLing; not a single person they passed would tell them if there is another, or where there may find the safest way to cross the river.

They had finally arrived in YiLing at midday, and to their relief, found that there were still street vendors who did not care what robes they wore, as long as they could pay. But YiLing is the home of the Immortal Mountain, the home of the Empress, and there is not a single region in the world where CangSe SanRen had been more fervently loved.

There had been no use in looking for accommodations in YiLing, although they did try, wasting hours of precious daylight. In the end, the majority of their escort was left to camp outside the town itself, where they are likely to spend the next seven days sleeping on the ground with the sky as their cover.

Their invitation, unlike the ones issued to other large sects, only included the Sect Leader and the Young Masters of the Lan Sect. With their father in seclusion, and the attitude toward the Gusu Lan so hostile, uncle had made this particular trip alone for the past six years. XiChen does not know why this year is different, and he does not dare ask.

Uncle had borne all the indignities of the trip with single-minded perseverance. By his composure alone, no one would notice that anything at all is amiss. WangJi, on the other hand, had grown stiffer as the days went by, his face perpetually tight, filled with helpless fury. The indignities to himself he can bear well enough; XiChen had seen him endure more than once. But he is still not accustomed to tolerating the insults to those he cares for, and XiChen worries that his little brother will not learn to bend before he breaks.

Although they push their exhausted horses as hard as they dare, the night has fully fallen by the time they reach the foothills. The lights of the two watchtowers are the most welcome sight XiChen has seen since leaving Cloud Recesses. He does not doubt that the following seven days will hold much unpleasantness, and that further slights will be heaped on them all, but he is willing to bear it all in exchange for a night not spent on the cold, unforgiving ground.

The guards clearly do not expect any further arrivals so late in the night, and more than one sneers at the sight of the Lan Sect robes. The highest ranking officer, his lion badge insignia on full display, studies their invitation for a very long time, despite the fact that it contains only three lines and the official seal.

The night is cold. XiChen had dismounted when uncle did, and now he feels the cold ground biting at his feet, the wind cutting across his robes. Ordinarily, he finds the cold easy to tolerate, but he has been doing so for six days now, and as the minutes stretch slowly, it is beginning to wear him down. He resists the urge to hunch his shoulders, least the guards take it for deference.

Finally, the officer hands the invitation back.

“This is no longer valid.”

XiChen is convinced that he had misheard. He waits for uncle to demand clarification, but uncle is silent and unmoving. WangJi must have moved however, because his horse stomps at the ground in irritation.

“I do not understand,” XiChen says, as it seems that no one else is willing to speak.

“The invitation is no longer valid. You were to arrive on the last day of the lunar cycle.”

“But-- that is today,” XiChen says.

For a few moments, he is genuinely confused. Twenty Sect members had left Gusu on the same day, and traveled together for the last six days. They could not have all miscounted the days.

“No,” the officer says firmly, “The last day of the lunar cycle was yesterday.”

It takes him another few moments to understand something that, he now thinks, uncle must have understood right away. The reason the officer had taken so long to study the invitation. The reason he had made them wait for nearly an hour.

For the first time in days, after all the humiliations and insolence tolerated with equanimity, he feels a cold thread of anger coil in his chest. He pushes it down however, determined to stay calm.

“There was an incident outside YiLing,” he says, “A bridge that was washed away by a storm. I am afraid it delayed our travel.”

“You must be mistaken,” the guard says, “No such neglect could have occurred under the care of the current YiLing magistrate.”

WangJi’s horse stomps at the ground again, and XiChen resists the urge to look back. He does not want to see what expression his brother is wearing, but he is willing to wager that it will not help their predicament.

“What is this?” a voice comes form the darkness, and the guards all stiffen at once.

They turn and bow deeply, the contrast to the discourteous reception given to Lan QiRen made even more blatantly obvious by the gesture.

“General Nie,” the officer greets.

A man emerges from the darkness, mounted on a war horse as tall as XiChen himself. His own mare, a nervous creature on the best of days, tries to skitter away in fright. It takes him a few moments to settle her, then offer a bow himself, his face now hot with embarrassment. Uncle’s horse had remained cool and still, and WangJi’s had been easily restrained. Only Xianqiao had made a fuss.

By then, Nie MingJue had dismounted as well. He bows, the first courtesy given to the Gusu Lan since the day they had left Cloud Recesses.

“What is the issue?” he addresses the officer, and the man stutters in response.

Nie MingJue does not seem to possess a great store of patience. He only listens to the officer stammer for a few moments before that patience runs out.

“Nonsense,” he barks, “Do you intend to deny me entrance as well?”

The officer looks absolutely terrified at the idea.

“Keeping guests out in the wind over nonsense,” MingJue spits out coldly, “Useless. Get back to your post. You!” he barks at another guard, the man nearly jumping out of his skin at being addressed, “Take their horses.”

The officer does not waste time scurrying back to the watchtower. Their horses are taken away with speed that would be humorous in any other situation.

Passing his own reins to another guard, Nie MingJue clears his throat, and addresses uncle, “Sect Leader, if you would follow me.”

The thousands of steps leading up to the Immortal Mountain City are well-lit, delicate lanterns swaying on either side, stretching their shadows long. For the first time since his arrival, Nie MingJue’s face is fully visible, and XiChen realizes that the man is much younger than he had expected him to be.

He has heard stories of the Nie Sect Leader. Gossip is forbidden at Cloud Recesses, but unlike his younger brother, XiChen does occasionally leave Gusu. It is hard to completely ignore gossip in winehouses and inns, where the alcohol only makes tongues looser and voices louder.

The man who had descended from butchers, but had managed to rise to the rank of a General under the current Emperor, is one of the favorite topics among the ordinary people. Nie MingJue is considered to be a ruthless strategist and a terrifying force in battle, a man of uncertain temperament and unshakeable convictions. But he is also described as seven feet tall, with eyes made of fire, and multiple scars marring his face.

There are no scars on Nie MingJue’s face that XiChen can see. Although he is tall, he is not much taller than XiChen himself. He is certainly more courteous than any Sect Leader XiChen has met so far; the hard planes of his face may look unforgiving, but XiChen thinks they suit him well, and--

Nie MingJue meets his eyes, and XiChen looks away, flustered.

He feels that they should thank Nie MingJue for his interference, but it is not on him to do so, and uncle is still silent, his expression unreadable.

At the gate, Nie MingJue leaves them in the care of servants who will escort them to their lodgings. He bows again before departing, and if it seems that his eyes linger a little longer on XiChen than they do on the others, XiChen is sure that his imagination is playing tricks on him.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #this one is from xichen's pov #and there's a bit of nielan here #i can't help it #i'm still trying to get my sea legs with this fic #and xichen is an easy fallback #since i've already spent 40k trying to get in his head #chapter 6 is written and we're moving right along #although where the fuck we're going is a mystery

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rosethornewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Thursday NR, E, & M reading

The usual

Finished

Not Rated:

appreciation, by Sienne

Wei Wuxian wakes up late, then goes about his day as Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. But why is everyone behaving weirdly?

Talk About The Crying, by nirejseki

It’d be one thing if someone went back in time themselves and tried to change a whole bunch of things. That would have been all fine and dandy by Nie Huaisang as long as they included ‘save da-ge’ on their list of things to change, but no, no, they had for whatever reason also dragged his own consciousness back in time along with them. And not only that, not only that, they had also picked the worst possible time to bring him back to.

See, whatever important life moment was happening in their life around that the time that they’d chosen to come back to, it happened to be happening at the exact same moment that Nie Mingjue was suffering his final, fatal qi deviation.

With Nie Huaisang watching.

Turn Around, by mondengel

Granny Wen sees a folly of youth in the making and exerts her right as an elder to fix it.

Explicit:

sweet dreams are made of this, by justdoityoufucker

It comes up in the most embarrassing way possible. Or, perhaps not, once Wei Ying thinks about it later.

Or, the one with an incense burner dream.

Mature:

The Thought of Then and Now, by BlessedAreTheFandoms

After a very long and frustrating day of work, Lan Wangji is glad to get home and pounce on his beloved Wei Ying.

Wei Wuxian, however, is not ready for that, and Lan Wangji remembers to listen.

Unfinished

Not Rated:

The Truth Revealed, by Lunarion_angst

Nie Huaisang thought that after he had gotten his revenge against Jin Guangyao, he would have felt better, and he did.... for a moment but it didn't last and he was so tired of living with grief and loneliness so he decided to just end it all, it would be simple really he just had to slit his throat easy right?

Well it would have been easy if he hadn't woken up in a place that was surely not heaven nor hell and with his very much alive big brother and Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and many more but that wasn't important right now cause in the front of the room they were in was a big giant screen that showed the words:

The life of Wei Wuxian The Yiling Patriarch with some bonus additions Please sit down and make yourself comfortable the viewing will begin shortly

(Wei Wuxian is very confused as to why and how the entire cultivation world is suddenly watching his life be displayed on a canvas, but he's more concerned about why Nie Huaisang has blood all over his robes that looked to come from his throat that wasn't even cut, and he was pretty sure Nie Mingjue was also very concerned of that as we- wait Nie Mingjue?)

Explicit:

Wedding Night, by AshayaTReldai

Hanguang-jun is absent, and Wei Ying misses him terribly. He uses the opportunity to imagine how differently their wedding night might have gone...

Mature:

Blushing all the way home, by Lucky_Moonly

Both Lan Wangji and Wen Xu want to marry Wei Wuxian, the first disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, but Madam Yu has something to say about the matter.

Live Again, Love Anew, by kkanime5555

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

...

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan. I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

-----

Or,

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates and, upon Wei Ying's death, they are sent back to when they first met as kids on the streets of Yiling. From there, they both are taken to Gusu, where they are raised together, gradually learning of their shared feelings and finding out the mystery of who sent them back in time and why, all while planning how to save the world, preferably with all their loved ones left alive.

Sacrifices Made with Blood, by NocturnalFriend

Lan Wangji knew it was too late, there was too much blood on Wei Ying's hands already. Still, if he asked his brother for help, surely. There was a way to rescue the man who held his heart?

Or: Trust is not easily given and all to easily shattered. Lan Wangji learns this in the worst way, when Lan Xichen gives into the demands of the cultivation world. Although nobody could have predicted the whims of fate, giving them another chance at righting things.

Cutting Out a Different Path, by T98

Wei Wuxian wakes up with an old back pain and a lack of a familiar warmth by his side. He groans, moving his arm around the bed to feel for Lan Wangji. Except what he feels is not a bed. Startled, he gets up quickly to find himself on a familiar slab of rock in a very familiar cave. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he takes a look around. His half-finished talismans are lying around on the floor and he can hear voices from outside

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #chen qing ling #cql

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

If/when you are doing prompts: In terms of personality and/or timeline of events, what, if anything, would be different if LWJ was raised in a different sect?

The healers said it was trauma.

Perhaps he was too young, or too sensitive; perhaps it was only that it had happened in such a way, at such an impressionable time – in any event, Lan Wangji’s reactions to his mother’s death had gone well beyond the normal signs of grief and turned into something much more severe.

After some intense discussion, it was agreed that he should be temporarily sent to live as a guest in another sect to see if he would benefit from the change of scenery. From not being around the place where he was drowning in the memories of his mother.

For Lan Wangji, the first he became aware of this was when a small dog darted through his feet and a boy of approximately the same size, who was chasing after it, crashed straight into him.

“Are you Lan Zhan?” the boy asked, blinking at him. “I’m Jiang Cheng. Can you help me catch the dog? It’s important!”

Lan Wanji blinked back, the entire experience being incredibly unlike anything he’d ever encountered before, and nodded.

“Thanks!” Jiang Cheng said, exhaling with relief. “My dad says he’ll think about getting me my own dogs eventually, but only if I show that I can take care of one, so the neighbors have been letting me hang out with theirs except this time he got loose and –”

Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, but Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to mind, and together they were able to wrangle the dog back to its proper owner.

Later that day, Lan Wangji’s uncle came and told him that he would be staying with the Jiang sect for a little while, since it seemed like the heat was good for his health. Lan Wangji hugged his brother good-bye and nodded seriously when his brother made him promise to write him a letter every day, and that, it seemed, was that.

Lan Wangji didn’t really fit in at the Lotus Pier, but then again, he hadn’t really fit in much at the Cloud Recesses, either. He wasn’t noisy or boisterous the way most of the children there were – he didn’t even say a single word for the first six months, and even then he only broke his silence long enough to call Jiang Cheng an idiot, and he would maintain for the rest of his life that Jiang Cheng deserved it – but luckily it seemed like Jiang Cheng didn’t really fit in all that much either.

Sure, he was noisy and loud sometimes, and he certainly liked chattering, but he wasn’t very good at being spontaneous – he liked things that made sense, that happened in order, and by chance that was also what Lan Wangji liked. Jiang Cheng was sensitive, too, his emotions easily manipulated and often prickly, and that meant he needed to be protected, and Lan Wangji liked that, too: he was used to being the younger brother, but he found he was pretty fond of being an older one.

(He wrote to Lan Xichen every day, and had a visit with him for a week once every season, so that they only missed each other a little bit sometimes, and sometimes not even all that much given the age gap between them.)

When Lan Wangji had finally started really feeling comfortable, about two years in, he noticed that Jiang Cheng’s father was often missing, and the terrifying idea of another father that was always in seclusion panicked Lan Wangji into another bout of mutism for a month or two until Madame Yu finally figured out the problem and explained to him that Jiang Fengmian wasn’t going into seclusion, but rather travelling out and about through the world, looking for something.

She didn’t specify what that something was, and perhaps she should have; it would have made Wei Wuxian’s arrival a little less of a shock to the system.

Don’t get Lan Wangji wrong – he likes Wei Wuxian.

He likes Wei Wuxian an awful lot.

But he’s an outside, a guest, and that meant that he could be upset where Jiang Cheng couldn’t about having his dogs sent away, and that meant he could notice that Wei Wuxian got picked up as often as he liked while Jiang Cheng never was, and that meant he could see the way Jiang Fengmian praised Wei Wuxian for all the things he was good at and never said anything to Jiang Cheng anymore and how it made Jiang Cheng more and more desperate to be better than Wei Wuxian at something, anything, if only it meant that his father would pay attention to him again.

Lan Wangji still had his problems with speaking sometimes, especially when he was upset, and he was a guest. He could notice things, and be upset, but that didn’t mean he could say anything about it.

“You have to tell me what the problem is,” Wei Wuxian told him very seriously. They were all eleven by then; Wei Wuxian had been with them for two years, an endless joy that always drew out Lan Wangji’s previously rare smiles. “Your speaking problem’s been getting worse over the past few months, and they’re even talking about sending you back to Gusu – I don’t want you to have to go!”

Lan Wangji gestured helplessly. Jiang Cheng had been the one to think of learning a sign language to help when Lan Wangji couldn’t find words, all those years ago, and Wei Wuxian had taken to it like a fish to water, but being able to sign didn’t matter if the problem was Lan Wangji not being able to communicate.

It was all much too awkward.

“I promise not to tell anyone without your permission? I’ll believe whatever you say, and I won’t get angry, no matter what!”

That helped, that helped a great deal, but Lan Wangji still couldn’t do it, the words crowding in his mouth and sticking in his throat.

“Why don’t you try writing it all down?” Wei Wuxian suggested. He was always paying attention to Lan Wangji, attentive and trying to find the ways to make him happiest; Jiang Cheng liked to tease them that they’d get married one day when they got older, and honestly Lan Wangji rather liked the idea.

He wrote it all down and gave Wei Wuxian the letter, then signed, “You promised not to get angry.”

“I won’t,” Wei Wuxian promised, and read the letter. He frowned. “Lan Zhan – you don’t really think Uncle Jiang would do this, do you?”

Lan Wangji felt angry tears sting at his eyes. “You promised you’d believe me,” he signed, furious and betrayed, and ran away before Wei Wuxian could respond.

He found one of the old haunts that he and Jiang Cheng used to frequent before Wei Wuxian joined their little group and sulked there for a while, wondering if he could maybe petition Madame Yu to send him into seclusion for a few months – but no, that would only mean he wouldn’t see it happening, instead of actually taking steps to stop it, and they were cultivators, Lan and Jiang; they weren’t allowed to just turn a blind eye like that.

After a while, he went back to his room, and Wei Wuxian was waiting there.

“I believe you,” he blurted out when Lan Wangji stopped at the door, considering a retreat. “Please, Lan Zhan – just come inside and talk to me, okay? I thought it over after you left and – you’re right. Uncle Jiang is like that, and I only didn’t notice because I’m the one he’s being nice to, but you’re right and we can’t let him treat Jiang Cheng like that.”

Lan Wangji stepped inside and quickly shut the door, glaring at Wei Wuxian.

“You’re right,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding. “We can’t let Jiang Cheng know we’re trying to help; he’ll only get embarrassed.”

Lan Wangji’s shoulders relaxed. No one understood him better than Wei Wuxian, not even Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli – not even Lan Xichen, on his regular visits, and Lan Xichen knew everything about him.

“Wei Ying,” he said, and stopped there.

Wei Wuxian grinned at him. “Okay,” he said. “I have a few ideas…”

It wasn’t the first time they’d work together to solve something, and it wouldn’t be the last, either.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #brasslizard

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aquadrazi · 3 years ago

Text

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 31

Wangji,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’d like to start off by saying that, everyone is FINE. There was a little, incident, during the most recent night hunt with the Juniors. They returned to Cloud Recesses without Sect Leader Jiang. Apparently Young Master Mo needed to use his, special abilities, to help them defeat a soul sucking statue, and Sect Leader Jiang took offense.

Like I said, no one is hurt. The Juniors brought Young Master Mo back to Cloud Recesses for cleansing and fortification, and no one was hurt in the scuffle with Sect Leader Jiang. However, they are a little shaken up from the incident, especially Sizhui.

I should be clear, ALL the Juniors returned, including Jin Ling and the other Jiang disciples. They won’t repeat what was said, but I have a feeling that tempers were flying as to the legitimacy of Young Master Mo’s, special abilities, and others who have used the same abilities in the past.

I will personally be supervising any future night hunts until your return, to prevent any other, misunderstandings.

Your brother,

Xichen

………Qinghe………

Lan Zhan folded up the letter and glanced over at Wei Ying, who was currently sprawled out across the bed, blanket askew, drooling onto the mattress, and fast asleep. Soon they would have to deal with how they were going to move forward. He could not leave Wei Ying again, he refused. So that meant that he would have to take Wei Ying with him.

The trouble was that no one could know that Wei Ying was alive, and he was fairly recognizable. Perhaps Nie Huaisang would be willing to share his disguise talismans with them, to hide Wei Ying’s identity. They wouldn’t need to use it all the time, the Juniors surely wouldn’t recognize him. It was just when they were in towns, to avoid any surprises.

Wei Ying moaned and began squirming in the bed. Lan Zhan got out his guqin to soothe him from whatever nightmare was currently plaguing him when he saw that Wei Ying’s movements looked an awful lot like he was rutting into the bed.

Not a nightmare

Lan Zhan felt the tips of his ears burn as he shamelessly watched his husband obscenely writhe in the bed, unable to look away. He was hypnotized by the vision of Wei Ying’s hands gripping the mattress as he rolled his hips down into it. The little satisfied gasps and grunts escaping his lips sent shivers down Lan Zhan’s spine. Lan Zhan felt blood rushing to his own cock as he wondered what it was Wei Ying was dreaming about…specifically… He palmed his own growing arousal through his robes as he watched Wei Ying bring himself to climax, calling out his name.

Wei Ying is going to require a bath.

Lan Zhan sent a note to the servants to draw a bath when they brought in breakfast. When he turned his attention back to the bed, he saw that Wei Ying was awake, and looking confused.

“Wei Ying was having a good dream.” Lan Zhan tried to help.

It took a few seconds for Wei Ying to process this, but when he did he went from realization, to embarrassment, to shock. “Lan Zhan! Were you WATCHING me?!”

“Mn” Lan Zhan went to go pour them some tea.

“Shameless!” Wei Ying accused.

“I cannot help but stare when my husband wiggles his attractive bottom in such and enticing motion.”

Wei Ying made an embarrassed noise and hid himself under the covers. “Lan Zhaaaan” he whined out, muffled by the blanket.

Lan Zhan might have actually chuckled, but at that exact moment the servants came in to draw the bath and deliver breakfast.

………Gusu………

The goodbyes had been hard. Lan Zhan didn’t want to take Wei Ying away from his sister, but he also knew that Wei Ying was bound to get restless within the confines of the secret pavilion inside the Nie Sect Compound. Luckily, Nie Huaisang was willing to let Wei Ying take a look at his “special” talismans, and his husband’s excitement could NOT be contained when he returned from THAT little field trip.

Wei Ying came back babbling non-stop about the craziest things, but Lan Zhan did managed to get the information that Wei Ying knew how to recreate the body double talisman, so Lan Zhan felt like he could let the rest of the babble wash over him like a comforting wave. This was nice. He wished it could be like this forever.

Unfortunately, they had a mystery to solve, and people to track down and bring to justice. So they had decided that Wei Ying would become Fu Ying, of the Hedong Fu Sect. During the Sunshot Campaign, Sect Leader Fu brought 200 cultivators to join in the war when Lan Zhan had requested help from the minor sects. They could easily pass off Wei Ying as one of those cultivators, and that would explain any of his knowledge of the events during the campaign, should it come up.

“How do I look?” Wei Ying asked, after casting the body double talisman on himself.

“Like someone who might resemble Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan replied. The talisman could only change slight details, so it was best to find a body that already closely resembled the one you wanted it to look like.

“Good enough for me to walk straight into Cloud Recesses and slap your brother on the back and say ‘Hi, how’s it been going these past 13 years��?” Wei Ying grinned.

“I would advise against doing THAT. However it is good enough to fool anyone not specifically looking for you.” Lan Zhan replied, ignoring the joke. “We shall just do our best to keep you away from anyone who might have known you while we are there.”

Wei Ying nodded and squared his shoulders. “You’ll just have to defend your weak husband, if it comes down to it.”

“Wei Ying is growing stronger every day.” Lan Zhan stated. “We just need to cultivate more.”

Wei Ying shot him a knowing grin. “Of course. Whatever the Honorable Hanguang-Jun prescribes.”

Lan Zhan felt the tips of his ears warm as they started up the long winding stairs leading to Cloud Recesses.

………Cloud Recesses………

Luckily, Sizhui was waiting for them at the gate, with a token for Wei Ying, to help diffuse the awkward conversation they were sure to have about who Wei Ying was and why he was travelling with the Second Jade of Lan.

“Senior Fu!” Sizhui greeted warmly as they approached. He had been sent a message as to the disguise and the new name, to help sell the act and not cause confusion.

“Lan Sizhui, a pleasure to see you again!” Wei Ying responded smiling broadly at his now grown son.

Sizhui bowed respectfully to Lan Zhan, then to Wei Ying. “I am honored to welcome you to Cloud Recesses Senior Fu. Please accept this token. It allows access through the gate so you may pass freely.”

Wei Ying took the jade token, rubbing his fingers over it a few times before tucking it into his sleeve. He thought he felt tears welling up in his eyes and he quickly blinked to clear them.

Why am I getting so emotional?

Of course it is an incredibly kind but unnecessary gesture.

I’ll only be here for a few days.

He noticed Lan Zhan eyeing him cautiously, so he gave him a reassuring smile before following Sizhui into Cloud Recesses, pretending that he hadn’t been there before. Sizhui made a show of pretending to point out buildings and areas of interest along the way to the Jingshi. Luckily, even though they drew the attention of everyone who happened to be out and about, no one dared come up to them to speak to them.

Wei Ying wondered why. Lan Zhan was the one of the famous Twin Jades, and he had been gone for a considerable amount of time. And yet, the looks they were getting were apprehensive and almost fearful, by Lan standards. He knew that Lan Zhan was the one to enforce the rules back in the day, but was he REALLY so scary that people were afraid to approach him? Unless they recognized Wei Ying.

That must be it.

They can see through the disguise.

I’ve been busted.

As if Lan Zhan knew what he was thinking, he grabbed Wei Ying’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Wei Ying looked over at him and Lan Zhan shook his head slightly, telling him that it wasn’t whatever he was thinking.

Sizhui noticed the tension and dropped back to speak more privately. “They are afraid of Baba because of the rumors.”

“We shall speak of this more in the Jingshi.” Lan Zhan replied quietly.

All hope that they would be able to have a private conversation was dashed when they neared the Jingshi, however. Lan Xichen was standing on the steps, awaiting their arrival. Wei Ying tripped on a rock and stuttered, and would have fallen if Lan Zhan hadn’t grabbed onto his arm to steady him. Wei Ying answered his concerned look with a weak smile.

We’re SO busted.

He’s going to see right through this.

Oh no

He’s going to tell Jin Guangyao

They’re really close, right?

I messed up

I always mess up

I’m going to ruin all A-Sang’s plans

This is a disaster

***********************Panic Attack*********************

Wei Ying could feel his chest tighten and it became harder to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Sizhui asked, concerned.

Wei Ying shook his head and waived him off. He was NOT okay. This was REALLY bad. Lan Xichen was smiling directly at him, like he KNEW.

He knows

I can’t do this

I can’t go back there

He wouldn’t make me, would he?

Isn’t there a rule about not selling people away into slavery?

Even if it’s for punishment?

Wei Ying allowed himself to weakly be led along towards the Jingshi, and towards what felt like his executioner. His head was foggy and everything was spinning by the time he reached the stairs.

“Wangji, it’s good to see you arrived safely.” He heard Sect Leader Lan say through the fog of his mind. “And this must be, Senior Fu.” He felt a gentle pressure on his arm, urging him to return the Sect Leader’s bow.

He used my fake name.

But he said it rather sharply.

He doesn’t believe it.

He knows.

Of course he knows.

He’s just pretending

To keep things calm

Until we get inside, where I won’t cause a scene.

“Are you alright Senior Fu? You’re looking rather pale.” The Lan Sect Leader asked, now looking genuinely concerned.

Wei Ying felt himself being led inside, he can’t remember if he answered the Sect Leader’s question. Once inside the door he collapsed on the floor, in an attempt at a kowtow, at Sect Leader Lan’s feet.

He couldn’t speak, he didn’t have the air in his lungs to push out words. He just hoped that the Lan Sect Leader would understand is intention not to fight. He hoped that if he gave himself up willingly that Lan Zhan and Sizhui would be spared. Maybe he could convince him that he was the only one. Yes, that would be alright. If he could convince Lan Xichen that he was the only person that A-Sang had saved, then his Shijie, her husband, and Wen Qing would all be safe. It didn’t matter what happened to him, as long as everyone else was safe.

His vision was blackening around the edges from lack of oxygen, and the tightening in his chest was quickly approaching too painful to bear. He felt hands trying to lift him up, and muffled voices all around him, but he could not focus on anything specific.

*******************End of Panic Attack*******************

He was about to pass out when he felt a cool, calming wave pass over him. Then suddenly, he could breathe again. He gasped and coughed and sobbed now that he could get air back into his lungs. He curled onto his side on the floor and let the calming waves wash over him as he shook uncontrollably. He felt a cool cloth touch his face and he struggled to open his eyes. He saw Lan Zhan through the haze, looking concerned, wiping the sweat and tears from his face. A whimper choked out and Lan Zhan pulled him into his lap.

“Wei Ying is safe. Wei Ying is protected. No one will hurt Wei Ying again.” Lan Zhan soothed as he rocked Wei Ying in his lap.

Wei Ying curled into Lan Zhan and began sobbing again, releasing all the tension that had built up during his panic attack. Lan Zhan shifted to cradle his head to his chest, and rubbed soothing circles into his back as he shook and sobbed.

“I am here. Wei Ying is safe.”

They stayed like that with the calming waves, that he now realized was music, continuing to wash over Wei Ying. His sobs eventually turned to hiccups, which eventually turned to small hitches in his breath. His shaking turned to slight trembles. Lan Zhan continued to hold on tight.

“Better?” Lan Zhan murmured into Wei Ying’s hair after what seemed like an eternity in his safe cocoon.

Wei Ying felt completely wrung out. He barely had the energy to nod. Lan Zhan pressed a kiss into his hair. The music stopped.

“I shall make us some tea.” Lan Xichen said soothingly.

Wei Ying didn’t have the energy to be afraid anymore. When Lan Zhan picked him up and carried him to the table, settling him in his lap, leaning upright against his chest, he didn’t have the energy to even be embarrassed.

When Lan Xichen returned with the tea, Lan Zhan gently placed a cup in Wei Ying’s hand, and steadied it as he guided it up to get Wei Ying to take a sip. Wei Ying was glad because he felt like without Lan Zhan, he would fall into a puddle on the floor. He felt Lan Zhan brush the stray hair away from his face, and place a gentle kiss on his temple.

“Wei Ying is doing so good.” Lan Zhan praised gently, causing fresh tears to spill down his cheeks. He didn’t feel like he was doing good. He felt like he was a mess, like he was an embarrassment.

“Are panic attacks common?” Lan Xichen asked gently.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan affirmed. “Also nightmares.”

Lan Xichen nodded in understanding. “I expect that there is a whole story as to why that is. But now is probably not the best time to tell it.”

“Mn”

“Uncle, you’ll keep the secret, won’t you?” Sizhui pleaded.

“Of course. I would not do anything to bring harm to any member of my family.” Lan Xichen smiled knowingly at his nephew.

Wei Ying choked out a sob at hearing that, and stared wide-eyed at Lan Xichen.

“You are safe here, Wei Ying.” Lan Xichen said, with a soft, genuine smile. “Of course my brother’s husband would always be safe here.”

It was Lan Zhan’s turn to choke.

Lan Xichen chuckled gently. “Oh Wangji, I think the only ones who DIDN’T know how you two felt about each other were the two of you.”

“You cannot tell Jin Guangyao.” Lan Zhan said darkly, causing Wei Ying to whimper at hearing the name.

A confused look passed over Lan Xichen’s face, then quickly left. “Of course. He is not privy to all of the secrets of Cloud Recesses. This is a Lan Sect matter, it does not concern him.”

Lan Xichen set down his teacup and stood up. “I shall leave you to get settled and rest. It was not my intention to cause any discomfort.” He bowed to Wei Ying in apology, then gracefully exited the Jingshi.

Sizhui excused himself quietly, and Lan Zhan scooped up Wei Ying and placed him in a warm bath. Lan Zhan settled behind Wei Ying and brushed out his hair as he let the warm water soak into his soul. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

#mdzs fic #the untamed #wangxian #panic attack #whump

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alitotechelamine · 4 years ago

Text

Hide and Seek

Archive of Our Own

The Chief Cultivator is missing.

Hanguang-jun is missing.

The story went that the revered Lan Wangji and his husband, the former Yiling Patriarch, had been seen attending a small night hunt. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary about them, they’d appeared happy to anyone observing (and perhaps a little too intimate a few might have complained). The Luó sect, the gracious hosts of the night hunt, hadn’t even realized the two were in attendance as the two arrived late and kept to themselves. If witnesses hadn’t recognized them after the fact, the Lan disciples dispatched to investigate may never have traced the two of them this far.

Past the night hunt, the trail had gone cold. People speculated the two had possibly come across a particularly powerful enemy, but a lack of bodies kept anyone from declaring that the truth. A thorough search of the area by the hosting sect meant there was no place they could have found themselves trapped and stranded. No one in the surrounding farms or villages had seen them pass through. They’d simply slipped into the ether.

The Gusu Lan sect were panicking, their second most powerful disciple having gone missing alongside his infamous husband.

The cultivation world at large was panicking, because the Chief Cultivator was missing just as new sects were flourishing and the Lanling Jin sect was finally stabilizing. If he remained missing for too long, there was no telling what kind of attempts there would be to seize power in his absence, or where that could lead for the Cultivation world as a whole.

There were rumors that the Yiling Patriarch was less of a victim in their disappearance than he might seem. He is, afterall, the Yiling Patriarch , and no matter how far the stories of the late Lianfang-zun traveled, there would always be suspicion and doubt when it came to the founder of Demonic Cultivation.

No, the world mostly mourned the vanished Lan Wangji. A beacon of morality and bravery, his loss considered a tragedy to the very art of cultivation.

His brother, with deep bruises still under his eyes and a listless demeanor, was forced from pennant seclusion to step back into his position of leadership to ensure the search for Lan Wangji remained the top priority. Whether that be the search for a wayward brother, or a body however was a touchy subject whispered well out of the man’s range of hearing. Later it isn’t mentioned at all inside the walls of the Cloud Recesses, not when any gaggle of juniors could include Hanguang-jun’s foster son or the boy’s friends. While nothing more than a flash of embarrassment or pain would come from Lan Sizhui, it was quickly made known Lan Jingyi would not stand for any idle chatter on Lan Wangji’s fate or the possible hand the Yiling Patriarch could have had in it.

The fact that the Ghost General always seemed to be nearby in these uncertain times, as if waiting for a reason to defend the testy juniors, helped in making Jingyi’s point stick. Not to mention the cutting reminders from the Grandmaster himself that gossip was prohibited within the Cloud Recesses.

It wasn’t long after a particularly heated argument between Lan Jingyi and a rather pragmatic Elder that the three were sent out to assist with search efforts. Zewu-jun was heard tiredly mentioning their energies were better spent proving their beliefs than arguing in the middle of the dining hall.

Outside the walls of the Cloud Recesses, it was reported that the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader had purportedly thrown his tea across the room when he was informed. He’d sent his own search parties out, but they’d made even less progress than the Lans.

The Lanling Jin Sect Leader was said to have remained stoic in face but rigid in posture. There had been loud, alarming sobs heard from his rooms later that night but he’d vehemently deny it if asked.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were missing, and the Cultivation world had noticed.

☁⛰☁

There isn’t anything remarkable about them.

An elderly couple stand huddled together before him, small tremors shaking their limbs no matter how hard they try to hold still. Jiang Cheng idly wonders if its because they’re cold or afraid as he regards them from the nine-petal lotus throne. Their clothes are old, on the cusp of being considered ragged, and their skin is aged from hard work. The woman holds something wrapped in a threadbare, dirty cloth and she’s clutching it to her chest like a lifeline.

The old man is the first to speak when prompted. He steps forward, slightly in front of his wife and bows as deeply as he can manage. Jiang Cheng decides the tiny tremors wracking up and down his body are probably from age.

“Jiang-zongzhu, my wife and I appreciate your willingness to see us,” He says, keeping his gaze below Jiang Cheng’s line of sight.

“You came requesting help, yet you live much closer to the Luó sect,” Jiang Cheng said, “Why not go to them for assistance?”

The old woman tightens her grip on the bundle. Its a minute gesture, but it allows Jiang Cheng to notice the way her face sours at the mention of the newly prominent sect. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know much about them, other than they’re a sect just recently founded yet already dripping with notability. Their disciples continue to swell in numbers, and the areas under their territory have grown in prominence with them. It’s considered a rather prosperous region, which begs the question of why these two would travel outside its jurisdiction.

“I’m afraid my wife and I have grown to distrust the Luó sect,” The old man says, and his face darkens as he considers his next words, “We have reason to believe the Luó sect is responsible for the murder of our son.”

Jiang Cheng raises an intrigued eyebrow, waving a hand for the man to continue.

“Our son is not a cultivator,” The man says, “We come from a simple line of farmers, and I had always believed simple farmers are what we would produce. Our son, our boy, he was a hard worker and an honest man. We take pride in the fact that we raised him to be a kind and thoughtful man; so when he failed to come home last year we were certain something was wrong.”

“Your son had been missing for a year?” Jiang Cheng frowned.

The old man nodded, his wrinkled face twisting in pain.

“We searched everywhere for our boy. We spent every cent we had trying to find him and nothing. Our poor Mao Ai simply vanished. Even the rogue cultivator we asked to search the area could find nothing. He would not simply leave us like this, it’s not in his character. Before long we were forced to accept that something nefarious had probably taken him.

“But then, two nights ago, we were on our way back from the market,” The man said, the darkness in his expression twisting back into pain, “And there was a body laying in the road.”

His wife’s breath becomes short, a glance reveals her eyes have gone misty.

“He was dressed in Luó sect robes, but they were torn and bloody. He’d been run through with swords every which way. His mask was already about to fall off, and when I touched it, it fell away to reveal our boy!” The old man loses his composure and his face crumples, a sharp wail coming from him. He dips dangerously, and for a split second Jiang Cheng is worried the man might collapse from grief and hit his head; but then the structure returns to his frame and he works to compose himself again. His wife behind him however has resigned herself to sobbing quietly as she clutches at her bundle.

Jiang Cheng nods slowly, considering, before leaning slightly forward.

“To accuse anyone of murder, much less an entire sect, is quite the accusation,” He says eventually, “Is there any way to prove what you say?”

For a moment, he expects the couple to dissolve into hysterics or to start shouting, enraged that he might possibly not believe them. The way the old woman’s eyebrows pull leads him to think she might be prompted to speak out of turn, but she just thrusts the bundle into her husband’s waiting arms.

The old man in turn holds the bundle out for one of Jiang Cheng’s attendants to take.

“After we were finally able to put our son to rest, we were sure to bring these with us.” The old man says, and there’s some iron in his expression now. Its not outright, but it almost feels like he’s challenging Jiang Cheng to dismiss his words. It leads Jiang Cheng to wonder what this old man’s past interactions with the cultivation world might have been like.

He takes the bundle from the attendant and settles it on his lap. Its a set of torn and bloody robes. They’re wrapped around a smooth face mask, completely blank except for a small indentation over the mouth like an owl’s beak.

Luó sect robes and their trademark owl mask. Every disciple, no matter their rank, was apparently required to wear this exact mask at all times. Much like the Lan sect and their forehead ribbons, only instead of serving as a reminder for restraint, the Luó sect disciples were made to look exactly the same from person to person. It was an effective tactic to disguising their numbers and creating the illusion of unity among disciples, but one had to wonder just how cumbersome an entire face mask carved from jade could be, especially in a fight where such a thing would probably obstruct one’s vision.

Nevertheless, on the few occasions he had seen them, Jiang Cheng had never seen a disciple without his face mask. They kept their faces covered in rain or shine, day or night, no matter what the circumstances. He’d heard stories of people attempting to look beneath the masks and losing fingers or entire hands for their impudence.

It would have been almost impossible for a couple of penniless farmers to get their hands on such a thing. Not unless…

Not unless they really did pull it from a dead body left lying in the road.

Jiang Cheng sits back slightly in the lotus throne, letting his fingers dance across the smooth jade mask.

The Luó sect had risen to prominence within the last year and a half, and only being truly recognized as a sect worth taking seriously a few months ago. Their rise to success had been rapid, almost suspiciously rapid. There were many who regarded the sect like they would a seedy merchant’s stories - far too amazing to be the truth. They’d simply appeared overnight it seemed, with enough money and manpower to essentially buy themselves enough recognition to be listened to.

Jiang Cheng had never heard of their leader, Luó Guiren, let alone realized he owned enough property to establish an entire damn palace to house his sect. A small palace, not nearly as opulent as, say, the Jin sect and their Koi Tower, but big enough to be called a palace. The Bee Palace, in fact.

Add to that the eerie nature inherent in keeping your disciples concealed and interchangeable, and Jiang Cheng felt certain there was something worth at least speculating about.

And come to think of it, this couple came from the same region within Luó territory where Wei Wuxian had disappeared.

Jiang Cheng swallowed and got to his feet, handing the bloody robes and creepy mask back to the attendant. The old couple watched him apprehensively, and he takes a moment to make sure his expression is placating but not patronizing.

“Mao Chen,” He says, voice firm, “ Your evidence is compelling enough to warrant a further consideration, I will look into your claims.”

The old man’s face lights up with hope, his wife’s relief making her back begin to bend.

“If what you say is true, I doubt your son is the only one to fall victim to such a fate,” Jiang Cheng continues.

“Thank you Jiang-zongzhu,” The old man says, bowing again, “My family will forever remain in your debt.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jiang Cheng said, “There still remains the possibility something or someone else is behind your son’s murder, bloody robes and a Luó sect mask won’t be enough to convince most. Until I find indisputable proof that the Luó sect had a hand in things, I cannot openly accuse them of wrongdoing. Therefore, I ask you to keep what you’ve brought to me secret for the time being.”

“Anything,” The old man says, “Just find justice for our son.”

Something always twists at Jiang Cheng whenever he sees a father who acts out of love for his son. It’s not something he allows himself to dwell on without a bottle of liquor in hand and two more within arms reach, but it always manages to steal his breath and burn his eyes when he sees it. He feels it do so now, and he can only allow himself a tight smile as he motions for the couple to be seen out of Sword’s Hall. He then orders the bloody evidence taken to his office and settles himself back on the lotus throne to see whoever else has come to visit today.

All the while, the only thing he can think about is the fact that Wei Wuxian has gone and tangled himself up in something strange and vaguely ominous once again.

Chapter 2

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ibijau · 3 years ago

Note

Writing prompt: A/B/O AU where, after a night of heated passion and romance, Nie Huaisang is expecting Lan Xichen's child. Nie Minjue, being the overprotective Alpha that he is, has vowed to (possibly literally) kill anyone who has touched his little brother, but due to Huaisang making Xichen promise not to claim the child as his own, no one comes forward, which only serves to make Minjue even more furious at such a dishonorable move.

Meng Yao (and let's make this before his true colors are revealed because why not) takes full advantage of this and is somehow able to convince Minjue to let him marry Huaisang.

I’m going for Untamed canon for this, just because it works better. This would be just after the gusu trio and lwj bring xue yang to the unclean realm, but before the Wen come around

“I’d rather not,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, twisting the hem of his sleeve in his hands.

His brother threw him a puzzled look. “Why not? You like Meng Yao. And unless the true father is going to show up…”

“He’s not,” Nie Huaisang said, pressing his hands to his barely showing stomach, still pulling and twisting the fabric of his sleeve nervously. I told him to keep our fling a secret, he thought, something he was starting to regret.

It was just that he hadn’t expected Nie Mingjue to react quite this way. After all, Nie Huaisang was hardly the only omega in the Unclean Realm, and he’d seen more than a few Nie disciples get pregnant and raise children all on their own. In fact, the Nie sect had a bit of a reputation in that regard, he’d learned while at Gusu, at which point it had occurred to him that they did frequently get new disciples who were omegas whose partner wouldn’t take responsibility for the child. And nobody said anything against that. The parent would get all the help they needed as well as support from people who’d gone through the same, the children were taught in the Nie manner…

So when Nie Huaisang announced that he was with child after returning from Gusu, he’d thought it would just be the same for him. He’d get a scolding for being careless (and for taking so long to come home, but it’d been fun to run around with friends. Well, mostly fun, except whenever they’d almost died, and for the mass murderer they’d had to bring to the Unclean Realm) and then his brother would move on to the next problem.

Instead, Nie Mingjue had interrogated him for hours and hours to try to get the name of the alpha who had, according to him, “deflowered” and “ruined” and “taken advantage” of his darling little brother, promising he’d force the person to marry Nie Huaisang, or to kill them if they refused… and that was only after Nie Huaisang swore that everything had been consensual, because before that Nie Mingjue just wanted to kill the person.

Nie Huaisang also had been forced to swear that it wasn’t any of the three friends who’d travelled with him who had done this to him. And then Nie Mingjue had interrogated them anyway, much to Nie Huaisang’s embarrassment.

And then…

“Is he already married?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Is that why he can’t marry you?”

Shaking his head, Nie Huaisang almost laughed. In fact, he was quite sure that given the chance, Lan Xichen would marry him, being an honourable man. And Nie Huaisang certainly liked him enough that such a marriage would please him immensely, except…

Except he wasn't stupid enough to think whatever had gone on between them was love. The first time they’d gotten together had certainly been an accident, due to Nie Huaisang not realising that his heat had started a day early, and Lan Xichen had been tutoring him, and one thing leading to another…

The first time would have been excusable. These things happened, and luckily Nie Huaisang hadn’t gotten pregnant that first time. But everything after that had been the result of a combination of boredom and opportunity and, at least in his case, maybe a tiny bit of emotion as well. If he hadn’t been a little in love, he wouldn’t have suggested they continued fooling around like that, nor so boldly offered for Lan Xichen to join him during the second heat he suffered while in Gusu.

It still surprised him that Lan Xichen had agreed to something so stupid. But then again, few alphas could have rejected such an offer, and in spite of his new responsibilities as a sect leader, Lan Xichen was a young alpha with all the needs and desires that came with it.

Lan Xichen who had looked so sad when Nie Huaisang had suddenly announced that their little affair had run its course, but… but it was for the best. Having realised he was with child, Nie Huaisang just had to put an end to this, before Lan Xichen got stupid and tried to marry him for honour. It would have ruined his reputation to become known as lustful when, as a young sect leader of a Great Sect, so many eyes were already on him in hope of seeing fail.

Maybe it would also have broken Nie Huaisang’s heart to be married only out of duty, but that was irrelevant.

“I don’t want to marry anyone,” Nie Huaisang announced, which was almost the truth anyway, so it wasn’t quite a lie. “And Meng Yao is… I like him a lot! But I don’t want to marry him. I don’t think he’d want to marry me either!”

“He offered himself, actually,” Nie Mingjue replied. “He said he would hate for your child to suffer the way he has and that if we cannot find someone better suited, he’d be happy to help. I think he might be a little soft on you.”

Had Meng Yao not been on the other side of the country when Nie Huaisang was getting himself knocked up, it was likely Nie Mingjue might have regarded his offer with a little less kindness. Or maybe he would have liked it better if he could have assumed that Meng Yao was the father, making it a good deal less likely that Meng Yao would ever leave them to try his chance in Lanling. Nie Mingjue was ever so fond of his deputy, seeing him almost as a brother, a better one perhaps than the real one.

Well, Nie Huaisang too saw Meng Yao as a brother, so the idea of marrying him made him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

“You are impossible,” Nie Mingjue huffed, sounding so upset that his brother felt a little guilty. “I’m just trying to look out for you, and so is Meng Yao.”

“Well, don’t. I’m fine. I’m gonna have my baby alone. Well, I’ll want a midwife, and a nurse, and cousins to help me with it, but other than that, I’m having it alone!”

“Okay, that’s it!” Nie Mingjue exploded. “I’m writing to Lan Xichen. Let’s see if he can knock some sense into you and…”

Nie Huaisang threw himself at his brother, as if merely speaking of his friend might have made him appear in the room, thus ruining all his efforts to keep his pregnancy secret.

“Don’t!” he cried out, tearful from fright. Seeing him so distraught made Nie Mingjue suspicious, so Nie Huaisang clung to him tightly and scrambled for an excuse. “Xichen-ge is already so busy! He’s got all his attention taken by that Yin Iron business, should we really bother him with my problems? And anyway… anyway it’s private, I don’t want others to know!”

“I half blame him for this,” Nie Mingjue retorted. “He’d promised me he’d keep an eye on you. And you always listen to him more than me, heavens know why.”

Mostly that was because Lan Xichen gave fun orders, such as ‘sit down while I do your homework’ or ‘open your mouth, I have a treat’ or even better ‘open your legs a little more, just like that, you’re such a good boy Huaisang’.

Not that Nie Mingjue needed to know that.

May he never, ever know that.

“Don’t bother Xichen-ge,” Nie Huaisang pleaded again. “I’ll… fine. I’ll marry Meng Yao.”

“You will?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. He didn’t like the idea, but it was better than to risk dragging Lan Xichen into a bad marriage he’d grow to resent once the novelty of it wore off.

#xisang #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #nmj feels a bit ooc here buuuut well sometimes I gotta sacrifice someone's personality to the altar of plot #jau writes #mo dao zu shi #cql #mdzs

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