#also the appropriate timing of this fic

[c4tto626]

just remembered that people have left positive comments on the few COD fics i've written and it makes me feel insane like what do you mean people read my garbage? what do you mean people liked my garbage?? 💀

[punkeropercyjackson]

'[Insert feminine term/behavior/fashion/etc here] transcends gender!!!'Well,maybe i wanna be a girl anyway.How about that.Bitch

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

Tintin: it's like we're stuck in a time loop Haddock: you can say that again Tintin: it's like we're stuck in a time loop Haddock: you can say that again Tintin: (increasingly baffled) it's like we're stuck in a time loop? Sakharine: OH MY GOD. I WILL KILL BOTH OF YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS...AND THIS SWORD!

[idiaa-shroxd]

Your cat cafe au is so much fun and so soft I adore it but hearing that Malleus and Leona's cats are friends is so funny to me and spawned the worst idea XD Prefect: Leona, Nebula is pregnant Leona: ...By who? Prefect gestures to Oatmeal and Nebula cuddling.

we share the same brain!! actually working on the cat au ask right now, but have a few irl emergencies that prevented my writing, and here’s a little bit of it! but first let me just say this is 100% my thought process if you and rook have yet to neuter the kitties. oatmeal and nebula have a romeo and juliet love story! \(//∇//)\ more under cut! this isn’t canon in the au or anything but a fun concept!!

“Nebula has never looked better, he scooped her up in one arm and held her firmly against his bicep, smug as she meowed up at him and purred loudly. He had zero hesitation to hold her while walking to his fated rival, looking him and his cat up and down before scoffing. The two proceeded to argue over who’s cat looked better wearing their dorm uniform for a bit, as the two cats seemed content in their arms without hostility to one another. - Leona Kingscholar

Malleus Draconia - As Leona argues with him half his brain has melted to this is the greatest cat. Cat precious. My firstborn is the best in this world. The other half of him smugly picks up his son in his own arm, the cat against his own bicep as he begins talking about how regal he is. Honestly, his cat is just happy to spend time with him and begins playfully nipping at him after not getting enough attention.”

anyways back to the ask!! I’d like to imagine if that actually happened then leona would freak out at malleus, while malleus is shocked he is getting his first grandchild with you already as you reiterate that is a cat, and you both are not married. he’s not listening, to you or leona. they end up being that in law family that despise one another thoroughly like my child is too good for your child but i don’t want to lose custody of my grandchild. cats tend to have multiple kitties at once so im thinking depending on the amount the may definitely mean the boys now live ay Ramshackle with the kittens, with Nebula nipping at her dad proudly showing him her babies and Oatmeal showing his dad his babies too, forcing the two men to bond despite their prominent scowls, but they avoid being too loud because you remind them kittens are sensitive to noises. (。-∀-)

they’d definitely end up trying to adopt the kittens when you graduate.. but that custody battle is a talk for a different day. on the bright side Oatmeal and Nebula finally get to stay with each other openly as they raise the kitties.

for anyone curious ( ^ω^ ) been busy these past few weeks with art fight, and my cat needed a vet emergency, still have to return to the vet later this week, but i’m also working on a r-18 birthday leona fic! friendly reminder my navigation does say mdni and you are responsible for the content on my profile that you view!♪

Σ('◉⌓◉’) actually haven’t written r-18 works for social media in a bit, but i will try my best to make the fic! if anyone does not want to view the content, please block the tag “shrouded in desire.” which i will be tagging the fic, and all r-18+ fics on my profile for those who do not want to see the content!

[eldritchmochi]

Hi its the anon that keeps poking you about cs again! All of those ideas are great and just so the pain of fanfic often sort of being what would be a novel first draft by being episodic, but I feel like you could so weave in a tonne of this stuff past now anyway. Especially the cane leaning, im a cane user too and I totally get it, how my partner handles my cane is just.... it feels different to anyone else. Like they get to touch my body differently to anyone else and that applies to my cane too since that really sort of a part of my body??

the inherent eroticism of ur partner touching u(r cane) i should make a zine about this lmao

rn i am considering how much if any retouching i wanna do of the existing 260k of coping skills cos yeah, the struggle of fanfic essentially being the first draft of a novel. usually it doesnt get me too bad since a) i generally fully complete a fic before posting so i do have a chance to go back and adjust things here and there & 2) i really havent ever cared to redraft something in the more traditional sense and iii) i basically never write things over 100k let alone anything substantially over 100k

one of the options im considering would involve a fairly big overhaul where i pull out the individual arcs and flesh em out with additional scenes for better pacing, and then repost as a series with shorter individual fics (with the og in tact as is, just with a note). ive had several people tell me theyve balked at the length of this damned fic, especially since its barely half done plot wise for JUST this specific already plotted chunk of the whole shebang. it has quite possibly gotten a smiiiidge out of control lmao but its been a great learning experience and i am Determined to finish it

however, i am ALSO considering filing the serial numbers off this fic once its done. i absolutely plan on redrafting the whole thing with a bunch of developmental editing work so the end result would almost certainly be a very different form of the story from the fic as it is now. im still unsure of how much of the rework i have in my head i want to put on the internet as Coping Skills: The Fic tho. its really important to me that, whatever i end up doing, i keep this monster available on the internet as a fanfic cos i am well aware of how much it means to a lot of folks

at the same time though theres a lot of backend stuff i could build into the cs2.0 idea that would make writing the rest of the story a LOT easier, which would make dev edits and redrafting easier bc ill be starting with something that has more structure, etc

theres balance somewhere i just haven't found it yet, HOWEVER im absolutely gonna be stuck til i figure it out. im a plantser when it comes to plot, im more than happy to figure out the path to a fairly nebulous endgoal, but i struggle to write stuff if i dont have a good idea of the overall structure of how i tell the story, like pattern of pov shifts and theming, which definitely got a bit away from me the last like 80k lmao

[shrekyaoi]

Do you have any recommendations for other good Roach content? I'm not the biggest fan of how Roach is typically portrayed in fanon

unfortunately i‘m probably not the best person to ask since i started writing this to, among other reasons, “be the change you want to see.” i was also dissatisfied with how i saw roach being portrayed (namely as a skinny painfully white twink with the personality of a sweat rag) and decided to take matters into my own hands. i guess i could do a shoutout to my own past fics but roach doesn’t really feature in them very heavily, although the lore i’ve created for him has been pretty consistent since i’ve started. it’s deeply frustrating that i haven’t found anyone who really sees him the way i do but as with most things in fandom, c’est la vie. if any of my followers have recs though feel free to slam those in the replies. i’d like to get a look at them, too.

[whoslaurapalmer]

thinking about, beatrice and lemony just taking turns wearing bertrand's glasses

[prentissluvr]

tw long rant and swearing!

hey!! if you don't like something i wrote! shut the fuck up and move on!! thanks bye!! no hate is tolerated on this blog :)))

i don't care if you don't like the way i characterized someone in my story!! shut up and get a better hobby than hating on something someone has spent hours creating and pouring love into and accusing them of hating one of their favorite characters because you think that the fic they wrote FOR FUN and NOT FOR YOU is bad characterization/makes the character flawed in a way that you don't like because you have a poor understanding of what makes fanfiction fanfiction (and also humans human tbh lol). sure, they're maybe more flawed than in the actual show, but THATS THE FUCKING POINT OF FANFICTION!!! IS THAT ITS NOT A REAL PART OF THE SHOW!!! AND ITS WRITTEN!!! FOR FUNNNNN!!!!! AND NOT FUCKING FOR YOU AND YOUR FUCK ASS OPINIONS SPECIFICALLY!!!!!!!! and if you think it sucks, i don't care!! you are entitled to your opinion!!!! hate it so so so much but get the fuck over yourself if you think that telling me it's horrible and unrealistic and somehow creating a bad wrap FOR MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THIS SHOW is somehow a meaningful usage of your time or gonna get me to delete the fic or stop liking it or stop promoting my own hard work !!!! i'm proud of the things i write and nothing will ever change that. i hope you know what a shitty shitty shitty (and embarrassing) thing it is to do to leave a whole paragraph of hate under someone's hard work just because they interpret a fictional fucking character in a way that you don't like. genuinely genuinely get the fuck over yourself and find a better way to spend your time than caring more about fictional characters than real life people.

[nonbinarywille]

saw a post about drawing fanart for your fave fics and ….. i’m thinking thoughts

[astrobei]

I think El would enjoy Shania Twain and Will would learn her discography by shared wall or car ride osmosis. I'm not sure what artists he'd like personally, but I just know in my heart he heard I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack on the radio one day, cried and it changed him forever probably. It's has the ache of Landslide, but Much More.

(FIRST OF ALL ! while we’re talking willel music bonding this is my friendly reminder/plea to everyone to read i think there is someone (you love) by @fireflywitch you will not regret it i Promise)

OK YOU ARE SO SO RIGHT !! i hope you dance is one of those songs that changes u down to ur bone marrow and i simply have not been the same ever since so i KNOW will byers had a short but extremely potent crisis immediately following this experience 😗 also idk how u read my mind abt the shania twain but i've had this image in my brain for months about older byler listening to this years down the line on their anniversary or at their wedding or like. even just slow dancing in their kitchen whatever u get the idea !! but the concept of el introducing will to it makes me want to just. just. just.

[storm-and-starlight]

having a mild freakout over forgetting a major canon event that actually influences literally everything about the character whose POV I am not only writing in but whose character arc is literally the driving factor of this entire goddamn fic

[quaranmine]

one of these days i should write a part two to lonesome dreams with the listeners actually helping the evolutionists leave evo...but that would require me to, you know, write that

[vincess-princess]

the wild, the wayward and the wicked

hello guys! i'm here with a new fic! :) *shoves all unfinished wips back into the basement* this one is totally not inspired by rdr 2 which is definitely not actively sabotaging my grades and responsibilities right now by making me play it 24/7, because, as you are all well-aware, i'm a fully functional human being!

Fandom: Motley Crue

Characters: the usual bunch

Pairings: implied Nikki Sixx/Vince Neil

Rating: Mature

Status: ongoing

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of past drug addiction, period-typical homophobia, self-harm, a whole lot of crimes of all shapes and sizes

Summary: after an ambitious heist gone wrong, professional outlaws Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee and Mick Mars are stranded in a city full of lawmen hounding them and with not a single dollar in their pockets. To start a new life in another state, they need a great deal of cash - and they decide to get it by temporarily becoming the men of law themselves and bringing to justice one of their own kind, who not-so-coincidentally also has a tremendous bounty to his name.

A/N: this takes place in California in 1880s, and in my attempt to be as historically accurate as possible i had to google the etymology of so. many. expressions. but i learned a lot of new things! :) (if i do get something wrong, though, you're welcome to tell me) i decided the chapters in this one will be shorter than usual (no 5k monstrosities lmao), and i'll try to post them more often too.

Chapter 1.

Word count: 1545

Even after five years of the life of an outlaw Tommy remained dreadfully - even deadly - thoughtless. Otherwise he would have reconsidered trying to sneak up from behind to Nikki downing a shot at the bar counter. The whiskey ended up in his eyes, and Nikki’s revolver – pressing between his ribs.

“Ouch!” Tommy’s hands flew to his face, and the piece of paper he was holding glided down onto the counter. Some whiskey got onto it, but mostly at the corners, so the text was still readable.

“Don’t rub your eyes, it’ll make it worse,” Nikki advised, reaching for the paper. The next second the half-full mug of beer belonging to a guy sitting next to him was upended above his head. Two indignant cries blended together, putting “I’m gonna end you” across perfectly without a single word. Nikki’s was louder, though – it was him getting a beer shower, after all, and it wasn’t even good beer.

“No guns!” the barkeeper warned and immediately exempted himself from his own rule, pulling a Colt New Army from under the counter. The “argument” – or, rather, six of them – was compelling enough for both Nikki and the guy to reluctantly holster their weapons. Not that Nikki would actually shoot Tommy, but he had to keep the little shit on his toes. The other guy, though… this saloon was the hottest spot in town for crooks and lowlifes, and they were always quick to anger. Nikki and Tommy blended right in for that very reason, but also ran certain risks because of it.

“Sorry, partner,” Nikki turned to the now beerless guy that turned beet-red and looked like he was going to explode, “this idiot here is pea-brained and even that pea usually goes unused. Lemme buy you another beer.” He fumbled in his already very light pockets with growing anxiety until his fingers brushed against a warm half-dollar and slid it across the counter to the barkeeper. Then he stood up, shook his head like a dog, spattering the beer on the counter, barkeeper and the guy, put on his hat, grabbed Tommy by the elbow and forcefully led him to the exit. The kid apparently realized he had just done something outrageously stupid and obediently allowed Nikki to drag him out of the saloon and into a narrow alleyway behind it. Judging by suspicious brown stains on the ground, it had quite a history of dispute settlements.

Nikki didn’t intend to go to such extremes, of course. A lot of lessons could be learned without bloodshed: a couple bruises would do the job just as well. Tommy endured his mandatory punch in the face without a single complaint, which was unusual of him, as it was his favorite thing to do. But this time he just wiped his nose with his calloused hand, avoiding looking Nikki in the face. Was he actually sorry?

Nikki was gonna give him some more tongue-lashing, but decided against it.

“Do not startle me like that anymore,” he only said tiredly. “The last thing we need right now is a commotion. And that was exactly what you almost did.”

“You splashed whiskey on me first,” Tommy murmured defensively. Well, maybe he wasn’t actually that sorry.

“Because you startled me! You know not to come up to me from the back like that. You’ll get punched. Or splashed. Or both, like in this case.”

“Well, it ain’t my fault you’re that neurotic! No lawman ever goes to The Diablo. You don’t have to be so vigilant there.”

“You’re a fool,” Nikki said almost fondly. “With a bounty like ours, any criminal will readily convert into a man of law just seeing us. Which is why we should prevent their looking as much as possible.”

“Taking after you,” Tommy grumbled. Nikki graciously ignored it, because it was true. “And if you hadn’t doused me in whiskey and listened instead, I would have suggested we do it too!”

“What?” Nikki frowned, but the menacing effect he aspired for was ruined by a very untimely sneeze. The beer odor kept assailing his poor nose, completely blocking his sense of smell. He needed a bath real bad, but going looking for it to a hotel or a bathhouse was hardly better than walking right into the police station. His posters were hanging on every pole in town, and these places were among the first to be informed of wanted outlaws in case they try to seek shelter there. Nikki had since shaved off his beard, of course, losing at least five years and the charm of a highway robber together with it, but he still didn’t wanna risk it.

“Look what I found!” Tommy pulled a wad of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Nikki. Upon unwrapping it, he recognized the piece of paper that Tommy brought into the bar. He hadn’t noticed him picking it up again, but the kid was extraordinarily, even unnaturally nimble-fingered and took to thieving like a duck to water. Nikki’s been doing it since he could remember himself, but next to Tommy he was an absolute jackleg.

The layout on the paper looked familiar. A huge WANTED on top, a mugshot underneath…  

“A bounty poster that is not of us?” Nikki skimmed through the text until he got to the sum. It wasn’t dark enough in the alleyway, and Nikki only had one whiskey shot, so the zeros shouldn’t have been doubling in front of his eyes, right? He twisted the poster, held it an inch away from his eyes, then extended his arm as far as he could, trying to catch the stray zero fleeing from the scene, but all four of them stood their ground. Eventually he did come to the conclusion that the sum offered was real. And all that just for one guy?

Then Nikki read the charges, and things got a bit clearer. Murder, including that of an officer, theft, armed robbery, breaking and entering and… sodomy?

“Quite a character, right?” Tommy grinned as he saw Nikki’s eyebrows fly up. “And would you look at that hefty sum! It could last us a few months until things settle down a bit. Just for bringing one guy in!”

Nikki looked more closely at the photo of the criminal. Well, he could as well have had “sodomy” written all over his face: long blonde hair, plump lips twisted into a lecherous smile, and a heavy stare from underneath thick long lashes… if Nikki hadn’t read his name written on the top, he would have taken him for a wanton woman.

But no, the name – Vincent Neil Wharton, usually going by Vince Neil – was clearly male. Unless the doctor was drunk during his birth and his mother never bothered to check.

“Whatcha staring at?” Tommy narrowed his eyes, and Nikki finally managed to tear his gaze away from the photo. Then his lips stretched into a sleazy grin. “What, lack of gals hitting you that hard?”

“Hey, you took the poster, not me,” Nikki snapped back. “So many bounty posters out there, and you picked this one! Says something about you, huh?”

“Yeah, it says that I like more money for less effort,” Tommy retorted easily. “The biggest bounty of the rest was half of what’s offered here.”

“It’s that high for a reason,” Nikki hurried to curb his enthusiasm. “You see that list of offences? This guy knows what side to grip the gun from and ain’t got no morals to hold him from using it. And you know how the cops are – they wouldn’t have offered such a sum if they could catch the man themselves. Besides, he’s wanted alive, which makes it ten times harder.”

“What, are you scared of him?” Tommy laughed. Nikki loved hearing him laugh – Tommy always managed to find something funny in any situation, however desperate. Unfortunately for Tommy, Nikki’s dislike of being mocked exceeded that love by a large margin – as, coincidentally, did Nikki’s muscular mass compared to Tommy’s. So the next few minutes the kid was eating dirt – not on his own volition, of course, but he had no other option with Nikki’s knee pressing into the small of his neck, and thrashing around and shouting curses only made it worse.

Soon enough Tommy came to accept that his only choice was to surrender and stopped writhing in Nikki’s grip. Nikki held him down for a few more seconds – for the lesson to assimilate better - before letting him go. Their fights always ended like this, no exceptions, yet Tommy never learned.

Tommy slowly rose from the ground, spit out soil and licked his split lip.

“Was that really necessary? Another punch would do the job just fine,” he murmured with resentment.

“It wouldn’t, your skull is too thick.” Nikki picked up the long-suffering bounty poster again. “And I’m not scared, I’m being reasonably careful. As you should be too.”

“It’s gonna be three against one. What’s there to fea- be careful about?”

“You don’t know the man. There’s always something.”

“Now you’re just overthinking it.”

“Gotta think for the two of us.” Nikki folded the poster and shoved it into his pocket. “I need to talk it over with Mick. Let’s get out of here.”

[brightclothesforwinter]

Sneaking in right under the wire (it's 23:15 on the 21st where I am!) for @mdzswomen's week 3 - I'd only just been talking about the yanqing fix-it AU which is at least 50% an excuse to bang on about TCM, so when I saw that one of the themes was 'healing' that was obviously a sign.

So here's the very beginning, I make no promises about ever getting to the end, I am excruciatingly slow as a writer, but I think works OK as a self-contained piece in the meantime.

.

It happens like this: Wen-Zongzhu sends Wen Qing to the Cloud Recesses, to investigate their defences. Identify points of interest. She goes, because she must, her family's safety always held over her head, her little brother at her heels because that is all the concession she can wring.

She has her mission, which she cannot reject nor fail at.

She also has her calling as a physician, and even Wen-Zongzhu would not lightly command her to set that aside. He understands the levers of filial loyalty too well for that.

. . .

Wen Chao is not subtle, delivering them to the Cloud Recesses.

Wen Qing is extremely subtle. She wears a guest disciple's robes; encourages her brother to attend lectures on the men's side as she does on the women's. She is as confident as she can be in his safety, here, this quiet place set aside from the world, with its rules standing carven in changeless stone and apply equally to all. As siblings, they are granted guest quarters set between the two sides, allowing each family a little privacy.

Thus the Jiang are their neighbours, and Jiang Yanli is sweet and kind and friendly, and, to Wen Qing's trained eye, obviously unwell. She tires easily; pauses for breath on the steep paths where a stronger cultivator would not need to, and on some mornings she moves as stiffly as a much older woman. To have friends is a dangerous thing, in the Nightless City. But here - Wen-Zongzhu's plans will surely pose danger to Jiang-Zongzhu's only daughter, in the fullness of time, but Wen Qing's friendship will at least not make that danger worse. She cannot let her guard down - she can never let her guard down - but in this time, in this place, she need not be quite so guarded.

Should Wen-Zongzhu ever ask, she can say plainly and truthfully that she felt it wise to maintain a friendly facade, to avoid suspicion, and that she also felt there might be some value in gathering what observations she could of the Jiang sibilings, who can be expected to go on to be leader and first disciple of one Great Sect, and mistress of another.

As a physician and a friend, she offers, delicately, to examine Jiang Yanli.

Jiang Yanli has been examined and treated by any number of doctors. The flow of qi in her meridians is sluggish, her core correspondingly underdeveloped. She has been prescribed, at various times, exercises to stimulate qi movement, exercises to slow qi movement, and several entirely contradictory herbs; one of the ones she's been taking is probably partly responsible for the shortness of breath. It's obvious her esteemed professional colleagues have been grasping at straws.

It is not at all clear quite what is wrong with her meridians, but certainly something is. Were her core stronger, she would be at serious risk of qi deviation. Had certain of her prescribed treatments been effective, they would have caused a qi deviation. The blockages are partial and specific; at certain points, qi flow is restricted, and the regular core-strengthening exercises taught to cultivators' children have erratic results.

'A bit like a hydraulic dam,' Jiang Yanli says, explaining Wen Qing's findings to her brothers. The metaphor would not have occurred to her, but Wen Qing supposes it is natural to Lotus Pier's children to think first of water.

A-Ning is somewhat distressingly impressed with Jiang Yanli's shidi; his confidence, mostly, but also his innovative thought-processes. He is, she will grudgingly admit, intelligent and creative, at least when it comes to matters not involving Lan-er-gongzi. And he is in fine form now, theorising noisily aloud and messily on paper, while Wen Ning grinds ink and Wen Qing intervenes when his lack of medical knowledge leads his flights of fancy too far astray.

She is sharp-tongued by habit, but he seems, if anything, grateful to be corrected - his grin is quite indecorous - and Jiang Yanli's smile is soft, watching them all. It is possible Wei Wuxian is as brilliant in his own field as she is in hers. It is possible that together they can come up with something which might not do more harm than good.

'You do both like a challenge,' Jiang Yanli says, gentle and amused, as she draws Jiang Wanyin away from the increasingly involved discussion.

Jiang Wanyin is the most reserved; the most aware, despite being youngest, of the prospect that war will divide them. Not that Yanli-mei is unaware, but she chooses to take the moments they have, to offer friendship now, and leave the things that must divide them to their own time.

Wei Wuxian quite possibly does not think beyond the current moment. It is possible that without the project to help his beloved sect-sister keeping his mind occupied, he would be getting into even more trouble, from restless boredom and what she suspects isn't so much an inability to grasp the concept of decorum, but the inability to remember, in the pinch, that it matters.

They are unlike anyone she has ever known. His brilliance would not have saved him from his inability to play politics, among the Wen, and what would have become of Yanli-mei's gentleness doesn't bear thinking about. Jiang Wanyin might, perhaps, have learnt to curb his temper into bitter viciousness before he pulled the tiger's tail too hard.

There are dozens of arrays the Jiang use for the general purpose of clearing the river-ways. Some are ancient, passed down through the generations; others, Wei Wuxian has already had a hand in refining. They are, she learns, different for an obstruction which is floating or submerged, partial or complete, if it is of earth or of wood, or some combination. There is one for metal, mostly employed in retrieving dropped tools, several which put her in mind of the greater yang meridians, but are apparently employed in particular hydrological circumstances she still doesn't entirely grasp despite an enthusiastic attempt to make a miniature demonstration in sand, and one untested and entirely theoretical creation of Wei Wuxian's which he claims would be effective in the deeply implausible scenario that the flow of the river was somehow blocked by fire.

Implausible as a behaviour of physical geography, at least. As a political statement, that time may well come. And as an analogy to the flow of qi and the functioning of the body - the river-management arrays are the key she needs.

. . .

Wei Wuxian is protective; Jiang Wanyin is brusquely sceptical; Yanli-mei is steadfast and resolute. "Let us," she says quietly, "attempt the impossible."

Wen Qing is cautious. The first treatment is brief, tentative, the application of the smallest amount of energy she can muster to one of the blockages of the liver meridian. It is appropriate in function, it is a faint meridian, and most importantly for this experiment, it is a yin meridian; her own cultivation energies suffice, filtered through an array they have adapted from one which would be used to break up a submerged partial blockage of wood in circumstances where the disruption downstream must be minimised. She carries out the treatment at the hour of the sheep, when it will have the mildest possible effect, with all three of their brothers waiting anxiously on the other side of the privacy screen.

The liver meridian opens into the eyes. When Yanli-mei opens eyes just a little brighter, Wen Qing believes that it has worked.

When she actually snaps at her brothers for fussing over her, she is certain; the liver is also the seat of anger.

Nonetheless, she chases the boys away again, examines her patient's pulse and tongue, and traces the meridian from toe to crown before she pronounces their experiment a tentative success.

It is fortunate they did not attempt this experiment at the hour of the ox; Wei Wuxian actually whoops in triumph.

For the next few days, Wen Qing attends the women's lectures, observes her patient, and documents her process. Wen-Zongzhu gave instructions regarding the secrecy of her mission here, but none concerning any unexpected advances in medical cultivation. Nor is it something he is at all likely to enquire about, afterwards. She takes a copy to the Lan healers, for their knowledge and their archives; speaks quietly and respectfully, and tells them she feels it is always wise to keep multiple copies of such things. She dare not give voice to any more direct warning, but perhaps it will be enough.

They concur with her plan to address Yanli-mei's meridians by pairs, which if nothing else speaks well of their competence. There will be imbalances over the proposed six days of treatment, but to address all in one day cycle would be excessively strenuous for both patient and healers.

One of the Lan healers is a tall, quiet woman who - with obvious discomfort - describes herself as 'uniquely qualified' to assist with the yang-dominant meridians for the sake of decorum; Wen Qing thanks her kindly, but says she is accustomed to working with A-Ning, and that Yanli-mei's brothers are surely suitable chaperones. Delicacy and precision matter more for this than cultivation power or healing skill, and she is accustomed to directing him. That, too, is a hint, perhaps; that her didi has more skills than grinding her inks, brewing her herbs, and preserving her reputation as a young woman among men.

She leaves with a copy of one of their oldest and most poetically obscure treatises on healing, an invitation to study their other medical texts, and written permission for the five of them to rise at the hour of the tiger, to most effectively begin the treatments of the lung meridian.

. . .

Even in summer, the tiger hour is dark; when she and A-Ning cross the courtyard to the Jiangs' guest-house, and here on the mountain-side it is even a little cool.

Jiang Wanyin is groggy, grumpy, afraid for his sister, and trying with limited success to conceal all three. Wei Wuxian has obviously not slept at all, and can apparently keep quiet or still but not both. And Yanli-mei - her face is a pretty mask. A stranger would think her neither tired nor anxious, but she is brewing tea, and steaming sweet buns she must have prepared last night. Yanli-mei's anxieties manifest in food, drink, and practical matters, just as her discomfort manifests in warm politeness.

Even with a limited palette of ingredients, she is an exquisite cook. It speaks, perhaps, to a childhood less idyllically carefree than Wen Qing first thought.

The existing river-clearing array for metal prioritised intact recovery of valuable tools; the synthesis to one which would break down harmlessly was predominantly Wei Wuxian's work, checked over by Jiang Wanyin with his more reliable eye for detail. She has had them both check over her own work, the further conversion from the hydrological context to the medical.

She works methodically. The Jiangs have been at pains to warn that clearing a blockage upstream risks flooding - or in this case, qi deviation - downstream; she works in reverse, from the thumbs to the triple-burner, opening each blockage only a little on the first pass. It takes three passes, overall, and Yanli-mei slips into a drowsy doze, though this cannot be comfortable. The hour is almost over by the time she can remove her needles and rouse her patient.

Beyond the screen, their brothers have fallen quiet. Perhaps sleeping. She is the only one who hears Yanli-mei whisper, "it's so unfair," with tears welling in her dark eyes.

"It is," Wen Qing whispers back, holding her close. It might be her health, the incompetence of her previous doctors, whatever family trouble it is that has left her so inclined to make herself small, to show her love in practical ways, to wear a smiling face and play the peacemaker. It might be something else entirely, but Wen Qing does not for a moment doubt that it is unfair. Many things are.

The moment passes, as these moments do. Yanli-mei steadies her breath; dries her eyes. Presses her palms together as if to apologise -

- Wen Qing catches her forearms. "The lungs are the seat of grief. It is natural that your buried griefs would surface. It will pass."

Yanli-mei nods. "It is better," she says quietly, "that we are here."

And not in Yunmeng.

They wake their brothers; Jiang Wanyin gruffly insists on taking charge of the brewing of fresh tea. Outside, the dawn is breaking.

It requires several folded blankets and a certain amount of experimentation to position Yanli-mei so that she is sitting comfortably enough, but Wen Qing is still able to place all the necessary needles. Only when they are both satisfied does she call A-Ning and move the screen aside. She would sooner not have the distraction, but decorum is better satisfied if Yanli-mei's brothers are present and able to swear there has been nothing untoward; their word will carry more weight than hers.

There is nothing indecorous about the process, even by non-medical standards. Each array is bound to a pair of needles; A-Ning sits at the table where they are laid out, weighted down by pebbles from the courtyard garden, and applies power as Wen Qing directs. She is distantly conscious of the weight of Yanli-mei's brothers' attention, aware enough of Yanli-mei's swelling sadness to give an occasional, careful squeeze to the last three fingers of her hand, where the needles are not, but otherwise intensely focused on her patient's meridians and her shifting pulse-patterns.

"That smells wonderful," Yanli-mei says, as Wen Qing rises from the haze of concentration.

"It's plain rice porridge, again," Wei Wuxian replies, in a voice for tragedies, and almost drops the bowls he is setting out on the table.

It's Jiang Wanyin who actually explains, busy with brazier and kettle again. "The Lan kitchens sent someone with a tray." Wen Qing removes her needles and finds Yanli-mei a cloth to wipe her face and blow her nose, while A-Ning carefully rolls and ties the papers with the arrays, and sets them with Wen Qing's other tools.

Yanli-mei is shaky on her feet, when Wen Qing helps her up, but she insists on going to her brothers, drawing them away from their separate tasks.

"I am so sorry," she murmurs, embracing them both at once, and Wen Qing takes over the tea-making and files away the apologies she can't help but hear. The Violet Spider naturally favours her own son, while Jiang-Zongzhu, somewhat less naturally, shows greater favour to Wei Wuxian. Yanli-mei, she suspects, has been mediating between the four of them almost her whole life.

It's an exploitable rift, and Wen Qing wishes she didn't have to know that. She doubts it will be something she is able to keep back, when Wen-Zongzhu questions her.

. . .

They rest for the remainder of the morning, and attend the afternoon lectures, even Yanli-mei, who insists that major medical treatment or not, she feels at least as well as she ever has, and that she can't bear to lose any more time to lying around and resting. She sticks close to Wen Qing, wreathed in formless sadness, until one of the Jin girls - not Mianmian, the one with the sharp eyes who Wen Qing is certain is viciously jealous of her sect-sister's standing - raises an eyebrow at the pair of them together. Wen Qing is inclined to lift her chin and ignore her, secure in her own standing, but Yanli-mei steps forward, greets the snake with her usual impeccable manners, and says smoothly, "you know, of course, that this one's health has always been poor; since we are study-sisters here, the renowned physician-jie has kindly condescended to offer her skills." Which is several shades more polite than the first daughter of the Jiang needs to be to an Jin outer disciple who is not even particularly skilled in any regard herself, but there is the betrothal; perhaps Yanli-mei schemes to ensure these ones will look on her with kindness, later.

Their lecture is otherwise uneventful; the focus is on the various kinds of ghost for which a woman cultivator is most likely to be called; there are several which are particularly known to trouble brides-to-be, newlywed women, and those carrying a first child, and it is regrettably common for the afflicted young women to die because their families hesitated to bring a strange man into the household until it was too late.

Wei Wuxian's already poor impulse-control is, naturally, made worse by the lack of sleep; whatever he says in the men's lecture - or possibly the manner in which he says it - infuriates the teacher badly enough that he is confined to the library, copying the Lan code of conduct under Lan-er-gongzi's supervision.

Wen Qing and Yanli-mei request that he be permitted to absent himself from that task the following morning to be present for the treatment of Yanli-mei's stomach and spleen meridians. It is Wen Qing's reasoning - that opening these meridians will bring Yanli-mei's buried worries to the surface, and that to have both her brothers present will be some reassurance - but it is Yanli-mei's earnest, apologetic mien which wins them that concession.

The treatment goes as well as Wen Qing could have hoped for. Yanli-mei's worries are regrettably informative; of course - especially after yesterday's lecture - she worries for own future, as anyone would whose betrothed shows so little care for them; who will be her defender, alone and unwanted in the halls of Jinlintai?

She worries for her parents and her brothers, without her there to play peacemaker. Shocked protest, from them both, until Wen Qing rolls her eyes and points out that she can see exactly what Yanli-mei means, that they don't know how to express affection without shoving and fighting and sharp words; that they hurt each other, sometimes, and that she is always the one to help them reconcile.

Perhaps that has given them thought. Perhaps it will help.

The third concern is nothing Wen Qing can set at ease. Yanli-mei sees the way the wind is blowing, as clear as Wen Qing does; that there is war on the horizon, and it will set them on opposite sides. "You are not here to learn," she says, in a whisper, Wen Qing's hand clutched in hers.

Wen Qing could deny it. It wouldn't even be a lie; it's just that the things she is here to learn are not what the Lan are intending to teach.

"And yet I have," she murmurs instead. "I was not sent here to make friends, either, and yet."

"Must it come to war?" Yanli-mei the peacemaker pleads.

There is no kind way to say it. "The alternatives are worse." Wen-Zongzhu's ambitions will not be stopped by anything less, but that, she cannot say aloud. A fine line. "I wish it were not so." Yanli-mei is soft and kind and delicate over a core of determined practicality. She is as precious and lovely in Wen Qing's eyes as she is in her brothers', and Jin Zixuan is a fool not to see it. "That we might choose a path for ourselves, and not be pulled apart by duty."

"Even the boys don't get that freedom; what hope have we?"

"Tomorrow will be better," Wen Qing replies.

. . .

Tomorrow is better, but only because the heart is the seat of joy, Wei Wuxian's theoretical fire-blockage array works as intended, and Yanli-mei's joy is contagious. They have skipped the afternoon lecture for the treatment, and she spends the monkey and rooster hours preparing a celebratory meal for the five of them, animated with delight. Perhaps her culinary art is not rooted entirely in her fears after all.

Wen Qing wants to kiss her in the worst way. She cannot imagine a more ridiculously hopeless courtship than this.

Unfortunately, she doesn't have to; Wei Wuxian appears to be conducting one with Lan-er-gongzi. She's not convinced either of them have noticed.

The day after that, Wen Qing is expecting the treatment to awaken fear. She almost goes so far as to warn Yanli-mei's brothers, then concludes that their reactions will be deeply unhelpful. Yanli-mei herself, she does warn, which gets her a solemn nod, and, "promise me you'll finish it anyway?"

It's both an easy and a hard promise to give; she would be quite derelict in her duty to abandon this treatment now, but if Wen-Zongzhu were to arrive tomorrow and summon her back, she doubts any argument about her given word and the sect reputation would sway him. She tells Yanli-mei as much.

Not giving thought to the kidney's role as governor of desire may have been a mistake; Yanli-mei kisses her, enough steel in her spine that Wen Qing really internalises, for the first time, that this is the Violet Spider's daughter. Wen Qing is the one who has to pull away, to say, "Yanli-mei, you are reacting to the treatment, we cannot do this now."

There is all of her mother's fierceness in Yanli-mei's eyes when she says, "not now," and accedes.

. . .

They need written dispensation from the Lan healers again, the next day, if they are to continue the treatment past the hour of the pig. In spite of everything, it is easily granted; people - with the pointed exception of her betrothed, who has no idea how lucky he is - like Jiang Yanli, even the stiffest and most formal of the Lan.

Restoring the faint yin and lesser yang meridians of the hand brings emotional balance at last; Yanli-mei apologises to them all, quietly and unnecessarily, for her shifting moods.

The final pair, finishing with the liver at the hour of the ox, do not bring the anger associated with that organ, only an exhausted relief. They fall asleep on each others' shoulders, and Wen Qing suspects it is night-rat Wei Wuxian who covers them with a blanket.

. . .

"It's hard to believe it's real," Yanli-mei admits. "There were so many promises, when I was younger, and then I just - gave up hoping."

The extraordinary meridians do not seem to be afflicted with the same trouble. The three seas ebb and flow in their proper courses. It is likely that Yanli-mei would never have had any particular difficulty in conceiving and carrying a child.

When she mentions that a Jin midwife told her as much, Wen Qing has to fight down a red wash of fury at Jin presumption, that they would dare -

- of course they would dare. Their first young master, betrothed to one known to be in poor health; of course they would think it their right to know. Jin-Zongzhu would want a fertile brood mare for his single legitimate son. When Wen-Zongzhu's vast plans come to fruition, she will not be sad to see that one brought low.

If only Wen-Zongzhu would be content to plunder the vast wealth of Jinlintai and let the rest of the cultivation world alone.

They have the summer, at least, and if Yanli-mei is suddenly immensely busy, throwing herself into the training she has so long neglected, well, not even haughty Jin girls will raise their eyebrows when one so recently restored to health continues to visit regularly with her physician.

[esdyre]

off palisade transcript duty for a week or two so I am finally pursuing my dream of an extended fantasy adventure novelization of es's six travelers epilogue featuring even more sangfielle weirdisms more exploration of the relationship between es & syntyche and of course more esdyre romantic tension also

[coffeeclubbuchan]

i got stressed with essays and exams so i dont think ive used tumblr in like. a year and a half? im not too sure that any of my mutuals even post here anymore. i believe the fandom here is dead (or most are minecraft stans who sometimes post cc stuff) and ive moved on so no more posts unless i start watching everyone again :( 

occasionally ill watch a vid here and there but ive moved on to other kinds of content now (i have had a full blown obsession with daredevil/pedro pascal/The Batman/comics in general for the past year if anyones interested). i only thought this was appropriate to post cause i saw the detective AU i was writing on an old save and it reminded me about this (im so sorry i never finished it. re-read it and its not as bad as i remember but itll take much effort to clean up and finish and I Don’t Have The Time ATM.)

also should say - im so happy for james and his content/music career :D hes the only one ive been sorta in the know about (apart from fraser on twt) and he seems to be more happy now than he has been in the past few years combined. hes basically became detached from the rest of them but has grown so much on twitch. v v proud and looking forward to what he does next