#dark Zhan Yao is what everyone needs in their life

[lunarriviera]

Big Dumb Hot Cop & Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant: A Manifesto

So it has recently come to my attention that this, my archetypal pairing formulation, has broken containment, probably because I've been flinging these terms around like a deranged person wielding a blunt instrument. Therefore it behooves me to explain what the hell I mean by all these adjectives, and who are some classic and contemporary examples of the idiots under discussion—who are by the way extremely in love with one another whether they realize it or not. (Don't you say "bromance." Don't you dare SAY that word to me.) I will use blorbo from my shows to illustrate.

I first realized that I am in fact a Big Dumb Hot Cop whisperer thanks to Chinese police procedural 猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin (2022). Right away, it's very important to note that Big Dumb Hot Cop is NOT in fact all that dumb. He's only less intelligent IN COMPARISON to his Effete Slightly Sociopathic Genius Consultant, who is, as already stated, a genius. Big Dumb Hot Cop is in fact ruthlessly good at his job. He's driven, he obsesses about cases, he can walk into a crime scene and pick up on the one thing everyone else has missed. There is no suspect he cannot intimidate upon investigation. And he's even better when he's working with (or against, depending on what stage they're at) the genius consultant. They need each other, whether they're fighting or collaborating. They can only clear cases together.

Here are, then, police captain Du Cheng and his genius consultant, sketch artist Shen Yi, eyeing each other significantly as some witness is, I think, lying his face off? Honestly I can't even remember what's happening because the important thing here is their nonverbal communication. This is crucial for this pairing. They can think circles around each other without saying a word. Love that for them.

Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant has two levels of Possibly Sociopathic. Most maddeningly of all, he has secrets. Sometimes many secrets. So at first, Big Dumb Hot Cop is going to think he's the criminal, or in some way involved in the wrongdoing. The second level is that he'll find Genius Consultant just worryingly, disturbingly good at predicting criminal behavior. And he will continue to be suspicious of him for exactly one or at most two episodes, until he's then swept off his big dumb feet by the rapidity and correctness of Effete Genius's deductions. There's nothing Big Dumb Hot Cop loves more than solving cases. Well, maybe beer. He also loves beer. Once he sees that Effete Consultant is useful, he'll do a 180º and stop complaining to his chief of police, and instead start demanding that Effete Consultant be his forever. He'll start hanging out in his office. He'll literally drag him to crime scenes by the wrist.

(And did I mention Effete Consultant must be very pretty? Did I mention that? He is lovely. Long, thin fingers to steeple while he thinks. Delicate features. Haunted dark eyes. Never sleeps. Shocking self-neglect. You may see where I am going with this.)

Another important attribute of Big Dumb Hot Cop: he's big. Or anyway strong, or a gifted fighter. Let's face it, he has to be, because Genius Consultant is going to be reckless with his own personal safety to the point of stupidity (now who's dumb, huh?). For example, consider another Chinese procedural, S.C.I. 谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (2018). Captain Bai Yutong is sort of impossibly physically talented (former fighter pilot! national sanda champion! runs over moving cars and then shoots at them, like some kind of weird urban biathlon!) and, like all good Big Dumb Hot Cops, his entire life is thrown upside down because he now has to drop everything to protect his effete consultant, criminal psychologist Dr. Zhan Yao, who's so careless with himself that in any another drama he would probably be driving Bai Yutong to drink. Thanks to the danmei on which SCI Mystery is based, however, we can safely assume Bai Yutong is taking it out on Zhan Yao in blow jobs.

Note that Bai Yutong is the cook, even though he's the gong, and that he moves in with Zhao Yan to "protect" him from...something, I can't ever remember what, and then just sort of forgets to move out again. For the length of the entire series.

I would argue that 镇魂 | Guardian (2018) is a procedural, even if it also has ghosts, a talking cat, snake lady, eerie dark energy that gets flung around like paintball splatters, and a whole bunch of other supernatural stuff that was not approved of by Big Red (it's based on a danmei of the same title by Priest, a novel which has been pulled from circulation for censorship). Further confusing matters, Zhao Yunlan isn't particularly Big or Dumb, nor is he even really a Cop, technically; but I'm claiming him for this genre not least because of his Effete (drop-dead gorgeous) Possibly Sociopathic (Chief Zhao thinks he's a suspect for a good third of the story) and Definitely Genius, Later Gangpressed into being a Consultant, chock-full of secrets Professor Shen Wei.

Once they finally team up, though, they do this genre/pairing proud. Why, there's nothing they can't solve except how to stay alive. Look at them here enjoying some fine nonverbal communication: "Oh my god, you're just like me—you too will fling yourself directly into bodily harm in order to save a clueless civilian. Okay this could be inconvenient for both of us. Also wow for a genetics professor you're really fucking built, do you lift my bro." (Yes. Yes he does lift.)

A final example: the cruelly short-lived 光渊 | Justice in the Dark (2023), which like Guardian is based on a danmei by Priest, 默读 | Silent Reading. I got baited into watching the eight (8) existing episodes by seeing a cut of Captain Luo Wenzhou taking on like forty guys with a champagne bottle, a pair of curtains, an axe handle, and a birthday cake, like some kind of cultivator. He's so big and hot, and he's so very dumb. He's also a cop, and ACAB (which is sort of the plot of Silent Reading); and Fei Du is possibly using him for his own nefarious ends (cf. possibly sociopathic and secretive). But underneath all of Fei Du's "I am the abyss, fear me, rawr!" scary posturing, like a puffed-up kitten, he's just a very pretty tender-hearted effete genius, and you can watch Luo Wenzhou melting, and practically pinpoint the exact moment when his whole heart flies out of his eyes and he decides: Yeah, okay, that's it for me. That one. The annoying little traumatized fuerdai with some kind of a death wish that I do not understand. I'll be throwing myself in front of bullets for him and/or cooking him dinner for the foreseeable future, thanks.

Priest is gonna mess with this dynamic of gong/shou caregiving and safeguarding, because that's what she does; but the fundamental beats are still there. Look at these ninnyhammers, just this second figuring out they're actually kind people who belong to each other.

Here they are confronting a suspect together. (You will notice the large butcher knife wavering in the foreground.) Luo Wenzhou, highly trained, nonetheless cannot de-escalate the situation. It takes a pretty playboy in an arm sling to come wandering into the room, and then, using his superb personal knowledge of what it's like to be traumatized to the point of insanity, getting the suspect to disarm. I just love the way they look at each other, incredulous (Luo Wenzhou) and mock-fascinated (Fei Du). If I ever meet the person who directed this scene I'm going to need to kiss them on the mouth.

Once you accept the gospel of Big Dumb Hot Cop and Effete Possibly Sociopathic Genius Consultant into your media-based life, you'll find it has many applications, not all of which have to be procedurals. Consider: characters from the Daomu Biji franchise, possibly (Hei Xiazi is the biggest dumbest hottest not-a-cop I've ever met). Leverage, in a weird OT3 way. Assorted combinations of Avengers. Teen Wolf fic, absolutely. Various Stargate incarnations. Several other Priest danmei, not only procedurals. Definitely Mysterious Lotus Casebook. Et cetera. (You're on your own with MXTX, though.)

This has gotten long and there are still so many nuances and features and wrinkles and problems with the theory that should be ironed out, but it'll have to do for now. I'll simply close by saying: yes, there is also a classic example and you already know exactly who it is.

ETA: this fall I watched 雪迷宫 | The First Shot, starring Huang Jingyu and Wang Ziqi, among other stunning actors, and it rewired my entire brain. Guess who the leads are? Please meet Zheng Bei, captain of a brand-new anti-narcotics team. He's a big dumb northerner and he's just met Gu Yiran, effete southern genius consultant and pharmaceuticals chemist who's about to change his life and also help him catch meth kingpins. Here they are in a rare peaceful moment at home together. Did I mention they live together, because they do.

I quite literally lost my mind about this Zhang Yimou-produced drama and you should move heaven and earth to watch it; but the point is, it's them again. They argue, make up, tease each other, bicker tenderly, eat, walk, go on dates, save each other, bury loved ones, touch constantly, LIVE TOGETHER, and somehow survive a plot that really wants them both dead. Gu Yiran is also an unexpected badass who goes feral at the drop of a hat and has an almost Fei Du level of secret tragic backstory, whereupon Zheng Bei laughs and says: hold my beer, mine is even worse. They were made for each other in a lab and I am obsessed with them. There are other ships in this drama (because apparently Zhang Yimou said to himself at some point: you know what I have more money and cred than god, I'm gonna make a prestige Chinese BL version of Breaking Bad) but theirs is mine, because they embody this archetype so perfectly. If you like service top police captains and their high-maintenance brilliant consultants, you might appreciate The First Shot as well.

Also, however improbably, season 2 of 猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin is currently airing, so fans of this pairing are being very well fed. I leave you with an image of these two doing what they do best: Du Cheng is intimidating a suspect with the palpable choler of his irritation, also his eyebrows, whilst his genius wife Shen Yi has spent the last three years perfecting being bitchy and supercilious to a gorgeous and highly utilitarian degree. I feel a very normal way about them.

[kakushigo]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 镇魂 | Guardian (TV), S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Zhan Yao/Bai Yutong, Shěn Wēi/Zhào Yúnlán, Zhan Qitian/Zhao Jue, Yè Zūn/Zhú Jiǔ, Ye Zun & Shen Wei & Zhan Yao, Bai Yutong & Zhao Yunlan Characters: Zhan Yao, Bai Yutong, Shěn Wēi, Zhào Yúnlán, Yè Zūn, Zhú Jiǔ, Lǐ Qiàn, Dà Qìng, Zhan Qitian, Zhào Jué, Lín Jìng, Jiang Ling, Gongsun Zhe, Chǔ Shùzhī, Guō Chángchéng, Wāng Zhēng Additional Tags: Mafia AU, A family that murders together stays together, Dark!Zhan Yao, Dark!Shen Wei, (but they're both also still lovable professors), Ye Zun is still Ye Zun (and we love him), Bai Yutong and Zhao Yunlan are co-chiefs of their own section of the police, they're about to fall in love with some mafia members, Nothing could go wrong, Yunlan is A Chaotic Bi Summary: Bai Yutong and Zhao Yunlan are the youngest division chiefs in the history of the Hong Kong Police. They have shut down organized crime from Kowloon to the New Territories- there's only a few hold outs. Zhuyin has been a thorn in their side since they took over the SCD, but a new case might indirectly lead them to the greatest breakthrough in identifying Zhuyin leadership.

Zhan Yao took over Zhuyin after his father, Zhao Jue, wanted to retire to focus on painting. Beside him are his younger twin brothers, Shen Wei and Ye Zun, acting as the masked Black and White Robed Envoys. Together, they'll evade the police, take care of each other, and kill anyone who gets in their way.

[pocketfulofrecs]

Dee - So! We have a little game in our discord server where writers write a fic together, blindly, without any plot. One writer starts a thread, other follows up, and then another joins in. Our first run produced the story you see below. It was a game between @auspiciouscandy, @whiteflowercrimsonparasol (or justdoityoufucker) and myself or @vrishchikawrites.

We thought it should be shared with everyone. That's why Ju and I decided to start a new section on Pocketful called Storytime with Bunnies. We'll publish all stories that we write there on Pocketful and eventually on Ao3.

Personally, it was a great deal of fun and I'm so happy that we're continuing it! I hope you like the story! It was written by three people and still turned out so smooth!

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A Strange Encounter

by Vrishchika, justdoityoufucker, and auspiciouscandy

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It is dark, but Wei Ying has never been afraid of darkness.

The juniors shuffle nervously behind him, sticking so close to his back, he can feel the warmth of their bodies. Suddenly, there is a noise - loud in the silence of the night and out of place. Wei Ying clutches Chengqing tightly, ready to strike. He turns in the direction of the noise only to suck in a sharp breath and try to suppress the sigh threatening to overtake him.

He’d mostly been following the juniors, letting them take the lead to hunt the nest of low-level yao that had been terrorizing the small mountain town. They’d done well, so far, and had dealt with half of the yao without incident. The problem started when they’d run into a higher-level yao, which was to be expected given his luck on night hunts, but he hadn’t expected to see a strange man.

He seems almost as tall as Chifeng-zun had been; Wei Ying can't see his features clearly, but his instincts warn him to be cautious. The man says nothing as he steps forward. He doesn't have a corpse's stiff gait. Each step brings him closer and reveals more of him. Pale skin, dark eyes, lips as red as blood, almost unnaturally still features.

His beauty is disarming, but Wei Ying is unmoved. He's married to the most beautiful man in existence, after all. But he is curious. What is this strange, beautiful man doing in the middle of the woods? And while he looks the man over, cautious of any sharp movement the man could make, he steps forward. Though contrary to his beautiful appearance, his body is but a corpse and it is difficult to hide when he staggers and what appears to be his arm drops down onto the floor. Wei Ying hears someone gagging behind him, but he cannot take his eyes off the man; every instinct in his body is screaming about the danger in front of them.

Just when he is about to speak, the man's face changes to a look of pained horror, a look that the stiffness of a corpse shouldn't be able to achieve. There is something about the way his jaw moves, that makes it seem as if he was trying to speak, but no sound leaves his red, red lips.

"Stop," Wei Ying says, putting the force of his cultivation into the word. The corpse's mouth opens even wider, and Wei Ying senses it before anything, "Cover your ears!" he shouts, but it is too late, there are some indistinguishable whispers he catches before his hands reach his ears, and he doubts any of the juniors were fast enough even as he hears their swords immediately drop to the floor.

He wracks his brain to match the odd corpse with any of the descriptions he remembers from his studies and it suddenly clicks into place. He remembers tales of bewitching creatures. Beings that can ensnare and seduce with their voice and their beauty. Beings that can control the living mind as Wei Ying controls corpses. He remembers tales of how cultivators of immense strength would drop their swords and simply submit to these creatures, allowing them to consume their Qi without protest.

His eyes flicker towards his juniors, alarm stirring in his chest. What can he do? Think. Think, Wei Ying!

And he reaches a conclusion, the corpse uses its voice to control, to influence, and had Wei Ying not used his own to do the same? Resentful energy and spiritual energy are almost similar, it's risky, but there isn't much else to do. He already perceives the juniors trying to walk past him, and he is overcome with waves after waves of compulsion from his small amount of exposure, so Wei Ying does the only thing he can think of.

He gathers the power towards his throat. His voice laced with command, he opens his mouth and sings not a real tune, at first, but simply unbridled power that cuts off the corpse's control over the juniors.

But he cannot just wrest control; he needs to suppress the corpse, and that takes more than random notes. He slides into a familiar song, lyrics that Lan Zhan shared but have never been sung before in deference to their usual duets. The juniors have never heard Wei-qianbei sing before; they have heard his tuneful humming, whistling, and music, but not his true singing voice. It renders them silent. Wei Ying's voice is resonant and it bounces off the surrounding trees and rocks, becoming amplified. The effect is otherworldly, unlike anything they have ever experienced.

It halts the strange creature in his tracks. He sways dazedly. Something about the expression is almost covetous.

Wei Ying hears Sizhui whisper his name in worry. He is his father's son and has somehow inherited all of Hanguang-jun's protectiveness. Even now, he takes a shaky step forward to stand before Wei Ying. But there's no reason he should worry; Wei Ying's control over his power is absolute, his control over the corpse-creature the same.

He changes the intent of his power, the tone of his singing, to lure the creature to lower its guard and step closer. He trusts that Sizhui knows what to do, that the other juniors will assist as his voice lulls it into submission. The creature stumbles forward, his hand stretched out towards Wei Ying. He sways with every step and Wei Ying tracks his movements carefully.

"Good boy," he croons, maintaining a singing tone in his voice, "Whatever shall we do with you?"

The corpse's hand is still outstretched and his expression is still mesmerized. Wei Ying reaches out and closes his fingers around the hand, keeping his voice mellow and soothing. "You're a strong one, aren't you?" he sings, ignoring Sizhui's alarmed noise.

The corpse will only need to twist his grip to break Wei Ying's arm but something tells him he's safe. He leans forward, curious, "Wei Ying," and Wei Ying freezes. He doesn't let off his control but it is enough for the corpse to pull him closer, a hand reaching up to caress his hair—he is aware of the gasped whispers by the juniors of, 'Hanguang-jun,' the juniors who were just beginning to take control—but this is something out of his expectation. A normally high-level corpse of this type would be troublesome on its own, but one that could mimic?

The danger levels have increased far more than what juniors can handle; Wei Ying pivots in his singing, pulls Sizhui behind him and crowds back, keeping the juniors behind him. He pauses, for the barest moment, to say, "Flare."

That snaps Sizhui to action, and as Wei Ying resumes singing, voice louder and louder, he draws a flare out of his robes and sets it off, the sparkling blue of the fireworks temporarily catching the creature's attention, making Wei Ying snap forward and cup the corpse's face, physically drawing his attention back towards him.

It is intimate, the way he angles his body and draws the creature in. Something burns in him. He has never touched anyone but his Lan Zhan like this, with so much tenderness.

The creature that mimics his husband's voice seems to mimic his affection too. Wei Ying cringes as cold fingers trace his cheek, trailing dangerously close to his neck. One slip, and Wei Ying could potentially lose his life.

"Wei Ying," The corpse whispers in his husband's voice, and something dark stirs within him. His lips twitch into an alluring smile and Wei Ying has his hand slowly reaching up and caressing its cold skin. He thinks the eyes shimmer an amber shade, for they are nowhere near the molten gold of his husband’s. He's all too aware of this cheap imitation's intent and responds in kind.

Wei Ying ignores the yells of his nephew, the sound of another flare going up into the night sky; his hand is coated in resentful energy as it reaches the back of the corpse's neck, and he maintains eye contact with it, his voice softer to only reach the corpse.

It is completely enamoured, that is why when Wei Ying makes a hand sign to the juniors to tell them to leave, the creature doesn't react. It is like a careful, possessive lover, but, unlike his husband, there is no real care behind its actions as it closes in on him. The resentful energy on Wei Ying's hands increases, solidifies, a black, hateful knife.

When he drives it directly into the corpse-creature's neck, spearing it up into its skull, the creature makes a weak, pained groan in that facsimile of his husband's voice, and Wei Ying shouldn't feel the way he does—it is but a creature who had taken up the face of his beloved—but to hear the wounded noises it makes, trying to garner his sympathy, Wei Ying cannot help but feel that sympathy. Wei Ying should know that the hands around his neck are the ones that wouldn't hesitate to kill him, so very cold, lacking his husband's warmth.

He raises his voice, and sings a sharp tune, and the corpse whines once more before it’s rendered mute, opening its mouth wide with a final hissed, “Wei Ying!”

Wei Ying's eyes widen because, for a second, before he tightens his hands, he catches a glimpse of his husband, pain and grief on his face that he hasn't seen in years. The corpse falls, its weakness stabbed through, unable to move again and Wei Ying shudders, feeling so incredibly off-kilter.

He needs to see Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is fine, he's sure, but the look on the creature's face, the timbre of its voice--it's almost enough to overwhelm.

The juniors, still near enough to catch the sudden silence, creep back through the trees, worried looks on their faces as they take in the look on their teacher's face, the still form of the corpse-creature on the ground.

"Xian-gege?" Sizhui starts, clearly shaken if he's reverted to that form of address. He continues forward as if to grasp Wei Ying's shoulder, but Wei Ying needs a moment. Maybe it is the leftover effects of the corpse, maybe it is his own fears and concerns.

But he takes in a sharp breath and pulls his mouth into a smile, "Now then, shouldn't we return? I assume none of you are hurt?" He looks them over, ignoring the sneaked glances from the dazed juniors as they stand up on their shaking legs, "Come along now—" he places his hand on top of Sizhui's, which shakes almost unnoticeably.

Sizhui wants to reassure him, but he knows already that Wei-qianbei wouldn't feel comforted until he lays his eyes on Hanguang-jun. Sizhui has seen enough of their love to know this is one of the few things that can rattle his indomitable Xian-gege. If anything happens to Hanguang-jun, Wei-qianbei would—

Sizhui draws his mind away from grim thoughts and watches as Wei-qianbei steps forward to the body, pulling out his qiankun pouch. Suddenly, there's a twitch of movement from nearby. As if called by Wei Ying and Lan Sizhui's thoughts, the austere white of Lan Zhan's robes appears, and he comes to a graceful halt near the corpse-creature.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying can't help but exhale in relief, "We're fine."

Hanguang-jun casts a look at the corpse-creature, then back at Wei Ying. He looks over Wei Ying completely before turning his gaze towards the juniors while moving towards Wei Ying, almost a split second of a glance but enough to know they're fine; it wouldn't have been noticed if Sizhui hadn't been looking for it. Then, he reaches up to caress Wei Ying’s face and Wei Ying melts into it, feeling the warmth seep into his skin.

"Wei Ying," Wei Ying can't describe how relieved he feels when the familiar scent of sandalwood envelopes him. It takes but a glance for Lan Zhan to see past his welcoming smile and glimpse the truly shaken core of him.

"Go forth, Sizhui, we'll join you soon." Lan Zhan commands and Wei Ying almost protests. He doesn't want the children away from him. Lan Zhan just shakes his head and pulls him close, "Breathe, center yourself."

Wei Ying presses his forehead to Lan Zhan's shoulder and sighs. Lan Zhan is here. Lan Zhan is safe, solid, and strong. That's all he cares about, and he feels his arms encircling him so he completely rests his weight upon his husband, his head on Lan Zhan's chest, hearing his heartbeat go thump thump thump.

He feels the earlier fight leaving his body as he relaxes against him, matching their breaths together. Wei Ying wants to stay there with him, the forest trees and the silence that was eerie and offsetting earlier feels serene and calming. But they can’t, because they have to get back, everyone in need of rest, the kids in need of checking to see if they're all actually okay.

Then there's the issue of the corpse-creature; research will need to be done when they are back in Cloud Recesses, to figure out what it is and if there might be more. Wei Ying breathes in the sandalwood scent of his husband, then steps away, qiankun pouch in hand. The corpse is where it had fallen, and he kneels next to it, Lan Zhan a comforting presence next to him.

"Aiya," He says, "They tried but couldn't get close to your perfection, Lan Zhan."

His husband huffs but keeps a steady, warm hand on his back. It is a reassuring presence that makes it easier to examine the body. Wei Ying runs his eyes along the tall body, mind stirring, "Who could be behind this?" How and why did they mimic Lan Zhan of all people? Wei Ying can't help but feel concerned. Lan Zhan hums in response but offers no commentary; he's probably still in a protective, vigilant state. Wei Ying smiles fondly and kisses him on his cheek, "let's return then,” he says, and gets up after putting it away.

Lan Zhan pulls him closer to himself; maybe he knows what worried Wei Ying as he keeps a comforting presence by his side. They walk to the Juniors standing ahead, who stop their whispers as soon as they get close. Wei Ying looks them over once again. They look at him with a slightly dazed look, but are steady on their feet. Wei Ying frowns, maybe it's the effects of leftover energy?

Jin Ling starts to say something about heading back to Jinlintai. As if Wei Ying would let him! It's almost midnight, and the night hunt has taken them to the far reaches of Gusu-Lan territory, a long trip of a couple days to Lanling-Jin territory. "None of that," Wei Ying chides, feeling like himself again. "Back to the village for all of us; Hanguang-jun needs to make sure there are no lingering effects."

Jin Ling half-scowls, but doesn't deny or try to argue back, and there's a blur as Sizhui all but pulls Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into a hug. Jin Ling sees Sizhui’s shoulders shake slightly and he looks away. Terrifying situation or not, that illusion had felt all too real. It was as if it were Hanguang-jun standing before them, the mannerism, the voice, how he...he—

Before he can think more he feels a pull at his wrist and he feels the warmth of another person around him. He hears Jingyi make a startled noise as the other two are also pulled into a clustered little group hug. Jin Ling’s face flushes red and he opens his mouth to protest but doesn't push them away.

“You're safe,” Wei Ying says, as the teens start to pull away after a few moments. If a few of them have reddened eyes, or barely-there tear tracks down their cheeks, neither he nor Lan Zhan mention it.

"Aiya," he gives Sizhui an extra pat on the head, a smile finally pulling at his face as he takes in the juniors' despondent looks. "What is all this? I would think someone died if I came upon you all like this! Come now, back to the village.”

"Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan calls suddenly and Wei Ying doesn't understand why. He looks up at his husband, only to see his eyes shining with concern, perhaps even some panic.

"What? Lan Zha—"

An abrupt wave of dizziness overcomes him and he falters, feeling something dripping down his nose. He touches his upper lip shakily, his limbs starting to feel heavy. His vision swims and Lan Zhan catches him immediately as he sways forward. Something cold is settling within him. "Lan Zhan," he croaks. His vision is turning black from the corner of his eyes, and Lan Zhan is saying something but he can't hear it, it’s muffled and sounds so far away.

Wei Ying hates the feeling that floods him, the wave of cold dread that he hasn't felt in a long time. His hair stands up as he feels ghosts of the touches. They linger on the back of his neck, his face, his arms where the corpse had touched him, among the distant noises, he hears a clear, sharp "Wei Ying," but it sounds so odd, so unfamiliar despite it being his husband’s voice and that's when he crumples, losing all control of his limbs.

The cheer and safety of mere moments before has fled, and Wei Ying can't stamp out the panic that grips him as his breath hitches. He's vaguely aware, as if he is not truly in possession of his own body anymore, that his sweet husband, his Lan Zhan, has pulled his body up into his arms.

That awareness lessens even more as Lan Zhan's distant, warped voice sends out some sharp commands, and then he feels the slap of wind on his face and something isn't right. His senses are fading but he has practiced dual cultivation with Lan Zhan for several years now. He's intimately familiar with his husband's core. Something isn't right because—

—they're running. The wind is against his face. He remembers the trapped look of despair. His husband commands the children but something isn't right. He's leaving something behind. The arms carrying him are familiar but recognition slips him and he becomes increasingly aware as a sharp pain increases from his arm and he gasps, because it feels as if fire is under his skin, it moves from his arm and reaches up to his neck and it increases. Wei Ying has always had a large tolerance to pain, but he is in little control and he cannot stop himself as he lets out a pained scream, the wind feels faster as Lan Zhan—

—not right, not right, not right—

—he wakes up to the dark wood and white paint of the Cloud Recesses. He does not move, cataloging his body, the sensations, what he remembers. There was an oppressive feeling of pain, of wrongness, that is now mostly gone. Did they fly back? How long has it been?

He feels like he's forgetting something, forgetting; he thinks it over, the body, the pain, and reaches up his arm and sure enough, there are bright red marks, beginning from his arm, spreading out like spilled ink on paper, they resemble a spiders web as they crawl upwards, up along until they disappear into his clothes and he had no doubt they reach till his neck. What about his face? He reaches up to try and touch but before he can, the door slides open as Lan Zhan steps through.

Wei Ying's entire focus shifts towards the Second Jade. Lan Zhan looks pristine as always, calm like nothing can disturb him. His movements are steady, unhurried. He sets his things aside and walks into the Jingshi casually. There's no trace of urgency or worry in him. Wei Ying feels his heart grow cold. His Lan Zhan wouldn't have been as calm, nor would his Lan Zhan look at him the way it did, unmoving and—the same way that thing had.

"Lan Zhan" comes and sits by his bed, eyes lock over him, dark and amber. "Wei Ying," he—it—reaches up a hand, and cradles his cheek, the same way his husband did. Except, its thumb inches towards lips and it is colder than ice. Wei Ying acts unbothered, showing a soft smile as he puts his hand over the one on his face.

"I'm fine, Lan Zhan!" he says softly. The suspicion grows when he remembers the red veining on his body, when he realizes that the touch isn't as tangible as it should be.

Touching the creature's hand feels like holding a dust mote, and he abruptly realizes that he isn't sure if this even is the Jingshi. It is the same pristine colors, of course, but their possessions seem blurred, as if only half-existing. There is no familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood. Is it an illusion? A dream? Is this creature a figment of his imagination? Or is it something else? He tries to access his core and can't grasp anything. He tries to summon resentful energy but it slips through his fingers like water. His only choice is to get information.

"What happened?" he asks in a soft tone he reserves for his husband. He angles his body to be welcoming, like he would with Lan Zhan. None of his actions give any indication of his suspicions. "Are the children safe?"

Lan Zhan nods, "They're safe. Lan Xichen is looking after them and a healer is examining them. You are the only one to be harmed. We do not know the nature of your injuries—" Verbose. Too verbose. Lan Xichen, not xiongzhang or Xichen. Even his imagination wouldn't conjure an illusion so inaccurate. This isn't just a simple case of his mind making things up.

The last thing he remembers is Lan Zhan, his Lan Zhan sending waves of spiritual energy and holding him close, so he can rest assured his body is safe. The hand slips from his cheek, as the "Lan Zhan"—no, the corpse, raises his chin making him look directly at it.

"What is Wei Ying thinking of?" it croons and Wei Ying looks away from it, and bites his lip as way of disguising his eyes roaming over the interior of the Jingshi, now that he looks carefully, the arrangement of the bed, the dresser, everything is out of order—the hand on his chin tightens, "Wei Ying, I'm right here."

The meaning is subtle, and Wei Ying turns to it, his expression as if hesitant, "I..I'm worried about the kids.." he takes on a concerned expression, not entirely faked, "Can you take me to see them?"

A pulse of Lan Zhan's--his Lan Zhan's spiritual energy abruptly floods him, and then is gone. It is a miracle he is able to keep his expression level and unbothered by it, but he's beginning to put the pieces together. He needs to keep the creature distracted, talking.

"Wei Ying," the creature wearing Lan Zhan's body says, almost chiding, "they need their rest, and you need your own rest. I am here with you; do not worry about them for the time being.”

Wei Ying knows it isn't the right time to push. He decides on a different approach, "You know how I get when there's a mystery to solve, Lan Zhan!" he protests with a playful smile, "You can't expect me to rest without any explanation? What happened? How did I get hurt? What did the healers say?" Simple questions, things he would've asked Lan Zhan in any case.

There's a lingering heat of Lan Zhan's qi swirling around within him, too weak to actually heal him or bring him out of this state, but enough to sharpen his perception and remove his pain. He knows his husband is trying to save him and there's no person more capable than his Lan Zhan. Something in him settles at that. Let Lan Zhan work from the outside to resolve the situation. Wei Ying will work from the inside to get more information.

The expression that crosses the corpse's face, of being caught off-guard, seems so foreign on Lan Zhan's face, but it composes itself and lets go of his chin, and seems to contemplate before deciding on an expression of utmost gentleness and care. "This," it says, as it reaches to touch the back of his neck, where one of the webbings must be, "is a mark of possession." A hint of darkness, desire, flashes in its eyes, "It means Wei Ying's qi has been flooded with another’s—" Wei Ying tenses, but the corpse has no suspicion in its eyes, meaning it was referring to that moment in the forest—"and Wei Ying is one of the few who have been able to reject it, so these," it reaches down to his arm, tracing over the red, "remain as a reminder." It looks enthralled, pleased even.

And Wei Ying feels his lips press flat. "I don't like them at all!" He pretends to whine, shows how he absolutely abhors the idea of it, feeling satisfied when it frowns in displeasure. "I don't like any marks other than the ones Lan Zhan makes,” he adds, looking at the corpse through his lashes.

Its facade almost slips, with the anger appearing on its face, and Wei Ying fights back a smug smile when another rush of his husband's warm spiritual energy wraps around him. The corpse-creature's face blurs for a moment, with that rush of qi, but then resettles. It looks distinctly displeased, though it tries to mask the expression with one of fondness that looks laughably fake. Wei Ying does not laugh.

"If my Lan Zhan wanted to make some marks," Wei Ying says coyly, trailing off in a suggestive manner. The creature seems to freeze and flicker, as if it is wholly unsure of what to do with that. And Wei Ying pulls back just as the corpse makes a hesitant hand gesture and says, softly, "Of course I'm joking Lan Zhan, you know your Wei Ying, I can't relax until I see the kids, and—" he adds seeing it fume "—you too, I know you're worried about them but they're strong! So they'll be fine!"

Wei Ying finishes his 'assurance' and Lan Zhan succeeds. There's a towering surge of qi coursing through him, ready to pull him back, his to command. By now, he is so familiar with his husband's qi that he can use it as his own. He sees how it makes the creature's eyes widen and falter. He smiles coyly, tapping his chin as the binds holding him to this place snap one by one.

"Now, who are you, my dear friend?" he asks as Lan Zhan's power unseals his own. The core he has cultivated so diligently pulses with power and the remaining binds disintegrate. Before the illusionary world around him can disappear, he reaches forward and slams a palm against the creature's chest, a smile of triumph curling at his lips.

"There you are," he whispers and drags them both to the real world that awaits them. His eyes flicker towards the real Lan Zhan, who looks pale and strikingly furious, and smirks coyly, "Lan Zhan! Someone had the audacity to steal your Wei Ying from you!"

The fury in his husband's eyes brightens into an inferno ready to destroy the most powerful of foes, and Wei Ying can't help but quiver in delight, in satisfaction. No words are needed between them, their souls and actions in perfect harmony. The creature that had taken him, and now is beholden to him, collapses and rebuilds itself, now not in Lan Zhan's form but again the form of the corpse he and the juniors had first encountered. It tries to fight against his power, but it stands no chance.

Lan Zhan steps forward, Bichen already unsheathed and ready to cut the corpse down, but Wei Ying shakes his head. He turns to the corpse, "Now, my friend, let's figure out what you are."

Wei Ying slams a talisman on the creature's chest and watches in satisfaction as it binds the creature completely. It squirms and tries to break the binds but to no avail. Seeing that the prisoner is secure, the juniors, healthy and hale, rush forward, gathering around him in concern.

Wei Ying smiles and meets Lan Zhan's eyes over their heads. 'Ah,' He thinks with something like heat curling in him, 'still furious.'

Indeed, Lan Zhan is furious. His eyes are dark and tracking all of Wei Ying's movements. His smile takes on an edge and he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck just slightly. Lan Zhan's eyes narrow and lips thin.

"Aiya," he pats the children indulgently, "Let your senior go, your Hanguang-jun is getting impatient."

The juniors flush red, and mutter excuses to leave. Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan and reaches forward to pull him, but that movement shifts his sleeve to show the red markings and he finds his arm in the other’s grasp as Lan Zhan pulls him closer, so Wei Ying’s weight is entirely on his body as if he's hugging him. He's startled.

"Ah, Lan Zhan what're you—" he cuts off mid-sentence as Lan Zhan curls one hand around his waist, holding him close, and the other raises his hair, letting air brush against his nape. The sensation tingles; Lan Zhan knows his weak spot and with the energy flow from earlier it's sensitive, and Wei Ying flushes figuring out—"Lan Zhan, wait, wait—Ah!!"

His back arches and he shivers as Lan Zhan’s lips infused with spiritual energy land on his neck and he continues with a sharp bite, one that lets Wei Ying know just how displeased his husband is, how worried he had been and how thankful he now is that they are safe. Wei Ying can't help the squeak that comes from him at the action, but he is not hurt. The bite is followed by a tender kiss, one that spreads his husband's spiritual energy through him, chasing away the redness of the spider-webbed marks on his arms, filling him with comfort and at the same time lighting a fire in him.

"Wei Ying is careless," Lan Zhan says, lips moving against Wei Ying's skin when he doesn't even pull away to speak, "I have been worried, Wei Ying was gone, alone."

He says the last part softly but Wei Ying hears it anyway with their bodies together, he can feel his warmth, their heartbeats and breaths mingling together, he can feel him and Wei Ying feels at ease, Lan Zhan’s words make his heart ache, 'Aish his beloved', "Lan-er-gege," he begins, his voice mellow and teasing, "Lan-er-gege, I felt you," he says, tracing Lan Zhan's back with his fingers as his breathing hitches. "I wasn't alone,” he finishes.

After waiting for a moment to soak in the comfort, Wei Ying leans back and looks at his husband, before leaning in to pull him into a kiss Lan Zhan leans into him, desperate and fierce. A strong arm curls around his back, holding onto him tightly. Wei Ying feels fond as he cups his husband's face, making soothing noises in the back of his throat even as the kiss grows heated. He pulls away with a gasp, chuckling when Lan Zhan doesn't let go, dipping his head to kiss along his jaw, "Aiya, husband, we're in public. Your uncle could arrive any moment now."

Lan Zhan doesn't let go and Wei Ying yelps when sharp teeth sink into his flesh once again, "How cruel to your poor Wei Ying!"

"It would seem you're well, Wuxian," An amused voice interrupts them and Wei Ying startles, looking beyond his beloved to see Lan Xichen watching them in amusement. Wei Ying pushes Lan Zhan away and, this time, his husband parts with him reluctantly to bow to their brother. There's not even an ounce of shame on his beloved's face and Wei Ying feels flushed. How unfair.

He turns to greet Lan Xichen. "Da baizi! Yes, I'm okay!" Lan Wangji's arm around him tightens and Wei Ying squirms slightly. Their robes are already in a complete state of disarray. "Lan Zhan!" he whispers though he's pretty sure it’s still loud, and, sure enough, he hears a chuckle as Lan Xichen shakes his head slightly.

"That's a relief," he smiles at them, which Wei Ying returns just as bright, "I will not hold you up further," he says gently, and adds a joyful and teasing, "I'll go let Uncle know."

To not disturb you is left unsaid as he turns to leave and Wei Ying hides his face in Lan Zhan's neck as he hums in agreement, completely unrepentant. "Lan Zhaaaan" but doesn't say anything else as the door closes. The smile remains on his face; everyone is home safe, Wei Ying is happy, and it all feels right once again.

[gusu-emilu]

miscellaneous MDZS/CQL fic recs (AO3)

broken into sections: Character Study (-esque), Wangxian, Jiang Cheng ships, Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent), Humor/Crack, and Other

Character Study (-esque)

Wei Wuxian

my eyes got used to the darkness by @curiosity-killed (M, Sunshot Campaign era, 4.4k): The funny thing, the thing that makes his lips curl in a grin and his hands shake with laughter, is that all these cultivators with their lofty principles and noble ambitions can’t even notice the ghost among them. Sure, they shiver at his presence and flinch from his cold hands, but not one of them puts it together. Lan Wangji chases him with healing music and Nie Mingjue frowns solemnly at his dancing corpses—and he laughs and laughs and laughs because they just don’t get it. Emilu's commentary: CW for mild body horror.

Jiang Cheng

in our respective ways by @veliseraptor (T, Sunshot Campaign era, 5.7k): Jiang Cheng has his golden core back. But he seems to have lost Wei Wuxian.

You Know I've Fallen, but I Know How High by villainais (M, Post-WWX's death, 2.7k): Jiang Cheng loses both of his siblings in Nightless City. Minutes apart. He trudges home to Yunmeng with one body, holds a private funeral with a single coffin, and allows himself to wear his mourning robes for ten days—permits himself not a single day more. He is still too young and inexperienced, an unfledged boy to the cultivation world, and he is rebuilding Lotus Pier on his own. He will not gift the other sect leaders the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable. Propriety be damned. Hanguang-jun emerges from his seclusion wearing white. He does not stop.

Nie Huaisang

it deepens like a coastal shelf by @wolffyluna (M, Post-WWX's death, 21.6k): When Nie Huaisang meets Mo Xuanyu, he realises two things quickly. One, this kid is so doomed. Two, this kid would be a great unwitting spy in his plans to bring down Jin Guangyao. It would be so easy to get into Mo Xuanyu's confidences, and so easy to get him to tell him anything he needs. ...only thing is, that wouldn't be very good for Mo Xuanyu's life expectancy. But he'll do it anyway, if it helps him avenge his brother. A fic about man handing on misery to man, the parallels and cycles in the relationships between Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu, and the lengths these characters will go to meet their goals and if there are lines they won't cross.

Lan Xichen

an old man in dried mouths by @tenacious-minds (T, Post-Canon, 3.3k): Xichen thinks. The tea had always stained the crockery red. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen and Jin Ling talk about Jin Guangyao.

can you be a quiet man? by @basket-of-loquats (Unrated, Post-Canon, 70.7k+) But something inside him snapped at Guanyin Temple-- and Lan Wangji watched it happen, saw the exact moment that Lan Xichen went from broken to shattered, when he buried his sword into Jin Guangyao’s chest, when his sworn brother stared up at him with wide eyes, blood dripping from his mouth, when he pulled himself closer and closer and closer-- When he whispered "Why don’t you die with me?", and Lan Xichen hadn’t argued. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen / therapy with a side of Wangxian.

Wen Ning

breathless (but i'll pretend to breathe for you) by swordsainted (T, Burial Mounds Settlement era, 4.1k): Wei Wuxian is silent for a long minute, and then he looks at Wen Ning, something raw and open and hurting behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, and Wen Ning shakes his head, still smiling. “You’ve protected everyone. How could I hate you for that?”

Mo Xuanyu

stand at the pit's mouth by @eldritch-elrics (M, MXY's death, 9.3k): The dreams and regrets of a man on the edge of oblivion. Emilu's commentary: Surrealist/absurdist screenplay.

Wangxian

I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, Immortality Post-Canon, 10.4k): During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair. “Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.” “I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.” “And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.” Emilu's commentary: Lan Wangji meets Wei Wuxian centuries later and does not remember the past. There is also an excellent podfic by @forgotten-envies

Look Not With The Eyes by Spodumene (G, Post-Canon, 28.1k): Wei Wuxian returns from his travels to join Lan Wangji on a routine night hunt, but when things take an unexpected turn, Wei Wuxian will have to fight for what he's really looking for. Emilu's commentary: Case fic.

All In A Good Time by bigboobedcanuck (E, Post-Canon, 8k): Lan Zhan is struck by a curse that brings him intense physical pain unless he's being touched. He is stoic and tries to hide his suffering. Wei Wuxian is worried and protective. Perhaps they will finally admit their feelings?

Across a Lake of Glass by Zizzani (E, Figure Skating AU, 92.2k+): Each year, Gusu Skating Club runs a camp for only the most elite athletes of each region. This year brings a new skater from the Yunmeng Club who wears skates lined with red and a smile made for war. He skates like a demon. Figure skating au featuring lots of healthy rivalry, pre and post-competition bonding, and an inexplicable fall from grace through the eyes of the media.

Jiang Cheng Ships

Chengqing

display my heart for you to see by @souridealist (M, Post-Canon Wen Qing Lives AU, 5.5k): Jiang Cheng has his own secrets. Some of them are part of the unburied past; some of them are about how long it's been since anyone has touched him.

while I'm in this body by @souridealist (E, Post-Lotus Pier Massacre, 3.9k): For just a few minutes, alone in her office, Wen Qing allows her self-control to slip enough to cry. It's just her luck that that's when Jiang Cheng comes looking for her. Emilu's commentary: Femdom.

Chengning

it may be that it doesn't matter by @wildehacked (T, Post-Canon, 6.6k) “Are you crying?” Jiang Wanyin asks him, and Wen Ning frowns. Pats his cheek with one hand. “No.” Emilu's commentary: Holy Grail of Chengning.

Whatever It Is by morau (E, Post-Canon, 20.5k): It starts, as with a lot of things, with a very poorly thought out prank, courtesy of Wei Wuxian. Emilu's commentary: A LOT of sex and even more emotions lol

won't run away (we're here to stay) by @qi-ling (T, Post-Canon, 3.5k): "Please don't feel any pressure to accept this, and you can take as much time as you need to think about it." It's a set of robes, in shades of deep purple, complete with leather bracers. Cut in a different style than that of the disciples or household staff, closer to the understated robes Wen Ning typically wears. He reaches out to feel the fabric. His deadened nerves can't sense delicate textures well, but even he can tell it's of a quality on par to Wanyin's own wardrobe. This is startling enough coming from Jiang Wanyin, but then Wen Ning notices the belt. In particular, the silver bell in the shape of a lotus affixed to it. Only recognized members of the Jiang sect may wear the clarity bell. Or, Jiang Cheng has an invitation for Wen Ning.

Zhancheng

By Proxy by @veliseraptor (E, Post-WWX's death, 12k): Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, looking for comfort in all the wrong places. Emilu's commentary: Hate sex that made me cry

Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent)

Songxuexiao

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It by @silvysartfulness (M, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 123k+): One of the most complex spells of demonic cultivation the world has seen is brought to fruition, and Xiao Xingchen draws his first shaking breaths in over seven years. This, it turns out, is only the start of his problems. Emilu's commentary: Pretty sure everyone already knows about Silvy's happy songxuexiao road trip fic but it has to be here.

Xue Yang & Lan Xichen

Hours On Empty series by @lady-of-the-lotus (M to E, Post-Canon, 57.8k+): AU where Wei Wuxian never came to Yi City and Xue Yang is still running around post-canon disguised as Xiao Xingchen. "Fractured Ice" - Xue Yang whisks a nihilistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right? "Control" - "Fractured Ice" retold from Xue Yang's pov. "A Thousand Miles In Its Light" - Alternate ending to "Fractured Ice" and "Control"

Songxiao with Xuexiao Flashbacks

Nothing Beside Remains by @eldritch-elrics (T, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 21.9k): And Xiao Xingchen is dressed in dark clothing that is not his, and his sight is all of a sudden sharp in a way that it has never been before, and Xue Yang is not here. “He wouldn’t,” he breathes. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s too—” “He’s too what?” Wei Wuxian steps a foot closer, face hard-set. “Too cruel? Or too kind?” Or: Xue Yang uses the Sacrifice Summon on Xiao Xingchen. Xiao Xingchen lives with the consequences.

Humor/Crack

The Hangover: A pre-wedding Dramedy series by natcat5 (M, Modern AU, 51.6k): It is not a bachelor party. That was made clear on all the invitations. It is a congratulatory get together for Jin Zixuan, attended by his family, the family of the bride, and the young masters of the other two families in their circle. The gathering is not to go later than midnight, everyone must drink in moderation, and no one is allowed to be hungover tomorrow. Wei Wuxian had promised Yanli, three fingers in the air. Jiang Cheng had rolled his eyes, but promised as well. Saturday morning, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng wake up alone in a hotel room, missing shoes, phones, and almost all their memories of what in the world happened last night. Also missing: Wei Wuxian, brother of the bride, Lan Wangji, esteemed guest, Lan Xichen, esteemed guest, Jin Zixun, cousin of the groom, Jin Guangyao, brother and best-man, Jin Zixuan, THE GROOM, who is due at his bride-to-be's house in six hours. That's plenty of time to find everyone...right?

Jiang Cheng Loves Jar Jar Bombad Mui by @lady-of-the-lotus (G, Post-Canon, 1.7k) Jar Jar Binks washes up on the shores of Lotus Pier. Can he win the lonely Jiang Cheng's proud heart? Neb neb answer is yesa. Emilu's commentary: There's also a podfic by @aowyn. Yes, with a Jar Jar voice.

Other

Nie Huaisang & Wen Ning

By Name by nirejseki (G, Post-Canon, 1.3k): After the traumatic events in the now-collapsed temple, Wen Ning lingered behind and unexpectedly saw Nie Huaisang, the undisputed victor of an all-around terrible evening, sitting on the steps of the temple, looking exhausted and miserable, as if he’d won nothing at all. Wen Ning found himself drifting over to him.

Jiang Yanli & Nie Mingjue

utility by magicites (G, Arranged Marriage AU, 2.3k): Jiang Yanli and Nie Mingjue's wedding is a political one — a gesture of unity between their Sects. A way for her parents to finally get some use out of the plain-faced sham of a cultivator they call a daughter. “Jiang-guniang,” Nie Mingjue says, and the formality in such a setting as intimate as their wedding chambers startles her, “I don’t wish to bed you. Or any other woman, for that matter. It isn’t fair for you to live alone because of my own preferences.” She rests her hand on his arm, cool relief flooding her body like water on a summer afternoon. “If it helps, I don’t feel desire for men,” she whispers.

Jin Guangyao / Nie Huaisang

Pulling Strings by @eldritch-elrics (E, Post-WWX's death, 5k): Nie Huaisang, quite drunk, turns up at Jin Guangyao’s door one night with an unexpected request. Emilu's commentary: Nie Huaisang knows Jin Guangyao killed Nie Mingjue. This interaction is more symbolic than anything else...

[featherfur]

I would love a Fix-it Au where Nie Huaisang fails to kill Jin Guangyao (maybe he slips through his fingers, maybe he just slits Lan Wangji’s throat the second he has the chance and Su She never has a moment to go get Huaisang because he has to hold back Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian so Huaisang can’t maneuver the playing field). So he goes back in time and just stabs Jin Guangyao and blames Xue Yang.

(More below the cut)

Huaisang’s not an idiot, he knows he’s not the smartest person in the room he’s just the best at adapting. Jin Guangyao can set up all the pieces but if something doesn’t go right he flounders, but Nie Huaisang has grown up as a Nie and no one in the Nie make sense or follow predictable patterns so he adapts easily. He had a back up plan, of course, if things went south but he wasn’t expecting things to go so south. So he approaches Wei Wuxian, grieving at Lotus Pier where Jiang Cheng brought him when he found him and Jin Ling frozen at the temple. Wei Wuxian hadn’t said a word since, clutching Bichen and Lan Wangji’s headband so tightly even Lan Qiren didn’t have the heart to pull it away.

Huaisang sits beside him, wondering how Jiang Cheng is handling his newly mute brother but he doesn’t worry too long, if things go right this time he won’t ever have to feel that. If things go wrong… well, he’ll be dead anyways so why not try?

He quietly passes him the spell he found in the Lan Forbidden Library (Jin Guangyao isn’t the only one who had Lan Xichen wrapped around his finger all these years, Huaisang was always his didi the moment they met even before he and Mingjue were sworn brothers) and says “let me fix this, please.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know why Huaisang thinks he needs to fix it, he doesn’t know that Huaisang is the reason the feared Yiling Patriarch is back instead of an actual demon, doesn’t know he sent the sword arm to Mo Village, doesn’t know he set up the meeting in Yi City, doesn’t know anything. But he takes the papers and stares at them and he knows and part of him, a fierce bold part of him filled with empathy and love and hope, wants to fight Huiasang on it. If this spell failed Huiasang would be torn apart, his soul reduced to nothingness. But he’s tired, he’s so very tired. It has been 16 years for everyone else but for him, he’s lost his family with the Wen’s, his sister, and the love of his life all within the span of six months. He doesn’t have the strength to argue, not when the only reason he eats is because Jiang Cheng comes over three times a day and feeds him, the only reason he sleeps is because the Head Disciple (Liu Xiolan, his sisters best friend and that hurts too) brings him to his room and waits for him to sleep, the only reason he moves is because Sizhui needs him to stay alive.

So he takes the papers and he writes the rest, focusing all his energy on something that will distract him. He writes and writes until he can wake up on his own again, until he shovels food in his mouth at a pace that actually has Jiang Cheng trying to stop him after a month of forcibly pushing chicken in his face. Because this could save Lan Zhan, his Lan Zhan.

He finishes it finally, three months later with Jiang Cheng passed out beside him at three am, Jin Ling and his posse only a few feet further all curled up like a bundle of kittens from the night hunt they’d just completed to get the blood of a ghoul for the spell. When he passes it to Huiasang he isn’t expecting the hesitation when he reads it over.

“You… do understand you can’t go back right?” Huiasang says quietly, “this needs a golden core on both sides and you won’t be able to go back far enough with your current core.”

Wuxian doesn’t even bother to think about how in the hell Huiansang knows he gave up his core, since Jin Guangyao’s disappearance he’s been different and Wei Wuxian has come to realize he’s smarter than he was ever given credit for.

“Your core isn’t much stronger,” Wei Wuxian snaps but there’s no fire as he nods tiredly. “I know, I can send you back to before I died though, if your past self is willing to give in and let you merge with him. If you can save all of this from happening, I’d do anything.”

Huiasang eyes him and tucks the papers away. He doesn’t say “you know this will create an alternate timeline and you will continue to live in world without him.” Wei Wuxian knows, and he’s tired but he won’t strip Sizhui of another father.

“I’ll take care of everything, Da-Ge will stab anyone who tries to stop me.” Huiasang says as jovially as he can even though he knows it comes out flat but Wei Wuxian gives him an appreciative smile.

“Good luck,” is all he says before he’s turning around and walking wordlessly towards the Head Disciple who waits patiently for him. Huiasang makes a note of her, wondering if he can find her in the past and wiggle her into the Jiang Sect, he never met her before and he isn’t sure where exactly to find her but if he can it’ll make it much easier to have someone hold Jiang Cheng back if he starts barking and biting. (Though, he remembers with a gentle feeling of fondness, Jiang Yanli had been good at that too so if he does this right she could help him get those two idiots to being brothers again)

It takes almost two weeks to prepare the spell but he doesn’t mind taking the time to get his affairs in order. The Nie Sect never truly loved him, not after Da-Ge’s death (they used to adore him, he thinks bitterly before tossing the useless emotion away). But he had the most trustworthy members by his side throughout the whole plan against Jin Guangyao, so he assigns his heir and orders them to say they found his body dead on a night hunt. He thinks Lan Xichen will be the only one who will grieve for him, there’s only a flicker of guilt for that after all Xichen led to his brother’s death because he was too kind to listen.

He does the spell and the world goes dark and he thinks it failed, until he opens his eyes and realizes he can see. Then he feels the other consciousness rouse beside him, confused at first then absolutely pissed. He almost laughs at the indignant emotions in his past self at the idea that a ghost would be so brazen as to attempt to posses him.

It doesn’t take long to convince his past self to merge with him, he wouldn’t be dying only becoming one with his future self. Really it would just be like growing up really fast since they are the same person. It does take longer to convince him that they are the same person, nearly half a day before he gives in.

The merge is, easy honestly. Huiasang faints in the middle of walking through the fields, and wakes up a day and a half later after living through all of his memories on fast forward to a pissed (worried) Da-Ge.

He doesn’t even speak at first, he just sobs, he sobs and sobs and sobs as he holds onto him, until Da-Ge gently soothes him and the awkward strokes become gentle caresses through his hair like Huiasang is five again.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Da-Ge asks when Huiasang can breathe again and Huiasang cries softly again and burrows into his chest and Da-Ge doesn’t ask again. He just pets his head and cradles him close until Huiasang is nearly asleep again.

Xichen visits once and Huaisang has to force himself not to bare his teeth and scream, but 20 year old Huaisang wouldn’t do that. Xichen looks so young too, his touches on Mingjue’s shoulder are full of affection and Huiasang hates him, hates him so much that he wishes Xichen died at the temple instead of Lan Wangji. He did this, because he didn’t listen to Mingjue because he fell in love with someone even though he already loved Mingjue. How could he-

Then Xichen lays a hand on his head, and 28 years of affection from his Er-ge wells in him and he throws himself forward into his arms. He wants to hate him, but this is his Er-ge. Who held him through nightmares when he visited, who went through night hunts protecting him when Da-ge couldn’t, who snuck him treats and paintings and gave Huaisang his first painted fan, who loved it when Huaisang called him Ge-ge and called him didi and spoiled him almost as much as Da-ge did.

And Da-ge loves him, loves him only less then Huaisang himself. So Huaisang can’t hate him, even if he loathes his choices and won’t ever be able to fully trust his decisions again, he can’t hate him.

Xichen takes his crying better than Mingjue did and murmurs to him quietly until he does actually pass out. Nie Zhongui almost makes him cry too but Huaisang manages not to, instead he gives him the prettiest fan he can buy because that’s how 20 year old Huaisang would say “you’re my favorite” even if 36 year old Huaisang would have just said it.

It’s two weeks until the ambush at Qiongqi Path and that’s all Huisang needs. He convinces Mingjue to take him to the celebration (much easier now with his fainting spells, and the almost full day of sobbing that Huiasang won’t explain). Thankfully Xiao Xingchen hasn’t captured Xue Yang since his escape and it provides the perfect excuse.

He quietly asks Jin Zixuan if he could go and meet Wei Wuxian at the base of the Burial Mound with Jiang Cheng before Jin Zixun even has a chance to leave, Huaisang didn’t think it would be so easy but when he mentioned being worried because of Sect Leader Yao and Ouyang, staunch haters known for screaming for Wei Wuxian’s blood, they’d both agreed immediately and Huaisang has to trust them not to be morons because he has something else that needs to be taken care of. Su She would be too late with Jin Zixun failing to arrive in time to ambush and Nie Huisang could discredit him (and possibly have him executed) immediately by showing the hundred holes curse on him. But Jin Guangyao? That was going to be personal.

A few crudely written demonic cultivation talismans (curtesy of Wei Wuxian’s Sunshot rampage where he left them fucking everywhere) and a knife shaped like Xue Yang’s familiar sword, where all Huaisang needed. That and alone time with Jin Guangyao.

That was probably the easiest bit, convincing Jin Guangyao to walk with him so Huiasang could show him his new fans. He was eager to walk with him, and Huaisang wonders as he plunges the knife through his back and into his heart between the ribs if Jin Guangyao still held affection for him in the end or if he simply wanted another pawn to use to keep Lan Xichen close.

Huiasang wished he took pleasure in the betrayal on Jin Guangyao’s face, but really? He’s just tired. It’s been 16 years of this, 16 years of loss and pain over and over again and it’s finally over.

Well nearly.

He slices his own face too and slips the knife into a qiankun pouch where he knows no one will look, after all Nie Huaisang was no good at being a cultivator much less a killer, and shoves a few talismans into Jing Guangyao’s clothes to be found later (maybe they will be, maybe they won’t but that’s not what he’s worried about).

Then he screams, he howls, he cries for Da-ge as he runs toward the gates and he’s almost surprised at how fast he gets there (he shouldn’t be, he was Da-ge’s most precious thing in the world but it’s been 14 years without him and some things he’s forgotten like the feeling of safety that comes with his brother’s rampaging steps storming to protect him from anything and everything). He throws himself into his brother’s arms and sobs, swiping through the air at the dead Jin Guangyao.

“Da-ge! He’s dead! He’s dead! San-ge!” He wails as Mingjue presses him against his chest with all the force in the world, Baxia ready to destroy anyone. “I was just showing him my fans and I only turned around to look at a bird and- and- Da-ge he…”

He sobs and dramatically yanks at Da-ge’s robes like he’s beside himself with agony and grief, and maybe he is, not for Jin Guangyao but for everyone else who lost everything because of his need to get his father’s approval.

“What? Huaisang stop crying and just spit it out.” Da-he’s harsh in such a familiar way that the tears spill out more. He’s not angry, he’s worried and he wants to hunt down his sworn brother’s killer but he won’t leave his didi behind.

“He tried to protect me, San-ge! San-ge!” There was no point in tarnishing his reputation, he hadn’t done anything yet beyond be a disgusting snake who killed the Captain and freed Xue Yang but that would be so much harder to prove when Mingjue had let the bastard go. “But he got stabbed instead! Da-ge please.”

“Who was it? Did you recognize them?” Theres louder shouts behind them, Xichen’s voice is worried but still soft as he moves to comfort him as well.

Huaisang nods frantically, reaching out to tug on Xichen’s robes like he’s terrified.

“It was Xue Yang! He said he was going to kill me then Da-ge and the rest of the Nie for imprisoning him. But San-ge pushed me out of the way and- and- and he-“ Huaisang cut himself off with another wail and his brother’s hands are firm as they tilt his head up to look at the deep cut on his face. “I screamed and he ran after taking something from San-ge.”

Mingjue tries to step forward and Huaisang sobs louder.

“Da-ge no! Please! Don’t leave, what if he comes back? He killed everyone at the Chang clan!” He howls and he’s shoved into Xichen’s arms that fold around him immediately. Huaisang ignores the tears on Xichen’s face, the tears on his brothers because their grief is nothing now compared to the future. The future of Mingjue’s death and Xichen’s loss of every brother he had.

He lets himself collapse into Xichen’s embrace as Mingjue kneels beside his sworn brother and slides his hands through the messy robes and finds the notes, written in what Huaisang would consider pretty good renditions of Jin Guangyao and Jin Guanshan’s hand writing. He hadn’t though he could actually get them to look but he was nothing if not adaptable.

Mingjue’s face is unreadable as he passes the talisman’s to Lan Xichen and Xichen’s eyes darken. Huaisang knows he won’t be there to track down Xue Yang, he doesn’t want to be at 20 years old and he doesn’t want to be there at 36 years. He wants to sleep.

He sobs until Nie Zhongui is called and then latches onto him instead, listening to him promise to protect him no matter what. He wrings out promise after promise until Nie Zhongui owes him atleast another century of personal protection and two hours a week for the next month of painting together and finally allows himself to be quieted.

He’s taken back to his quarters and only an hour later, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are bursting through the doors like they’re fifteen again. Both are yelling questions and he wails as he hugs them, this time it’s not fake. They’re alive and they’re not grieving messes and he has his best friends with him for the first time in sixteen years and he cries and almost laughs as they panic trying to comfort him.

He has a lot more to do, he knows. He has to protect Wei Wuxian, has to save the Wens (though he’s certain a small baby A-Yuan will make that simple, Da-ge was weak for babies), he has to make sure Jin Guangshan is either dead or discredited so Wei Wuxian can’t be hunted down, has to shove Wei Wuxian back into the Jiang Sect and let Jiang Cheng’s insane protection streak go wild, and he has so so many fans to make to give his brother after he chews him out for not telling him about the Sabers and getting him to let Wei Wuxian help. He has so much to do and he is so tired.

But he’s lighter than he’s been in ages, his brother is safe, everyone he cares about is safe and he is happy.

(This is just a very rough draft of an idea lmao)

[antebunny]

family dinner

Modern AU Jin siblings vs. Jin Guangshan (crossposted on Ao3):

Jin Zixuan leans against the side of his yellow Audi and checks his Rolex Daytona watch. Behind his car are the massive white gates of the Jin mansion, a massive complex with no less than four houses, two gardens, one lotus pond, a garage for the rest of his car collection, and a private movie theater in the basement. Normally, he would open the gates and let himself through, but tonight, Jin Zixuan has no intention of going down the lonely, two-lane road to the main house alone.  

The time is 7:18. He has only twelve minutes left, and no one is here. Jin Zixuan shifts nervously in his Stuart Hughes suit (Diamond Edition) and represses the urge to check his watch again. Instead of checking it, he worries until his heart is thump-thumping in his chest and all he can feel is the bitter cold air on his bare fingers. 

He’s twenty-seven years old, with a two year old son, and he’s still nervous about the coming dinner. He would be less nervous if his mother was coming, but she hasn’t been back to the Jin family home since she divorced his father almost a decade ago–long enough to see Jin Zixuan through high school–and he was not about to ask. Instead, he’d asked the rest of his family.

He’s musing on the meaning of family and obligation when the first car pulls up. It’s a white Rolls-Royce, and it carries a single passenger: Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, Jin Guangyao. His half-brother wears a crisp dark cream-colored Brioni suit, and he adjusts the small osmanthus flower tucked into the pocket when he straightens. 

“No one else is here yet?” Jin Guangyao questions, like he can’t see it with his own eyes.

“Not yet,” Jin Zixuan says shortly.

His brother continues smiling despite his terse tone. Jin Guangyao has never been anything but friendly to Jin Zixuan since he came into his life several years ago, which is why Jin Zixuan is half-terrified of him. The other half of him wants to intervene everytime his father so much as looks in Jin Guangyao’s direction, and half of the time he does, so needless to say, they have a rather complicated relationship. 

“I’m sure they’ll be here,” Jin Guangyao offers, still smiling sweetly.

Jin Zixuan isn’t so sure. Realistically, there’s no reason for all of them to come just to support him. The only reason Jin Zixuan is going, beyond the convention of his father’s annual dinners, is because Jin Zixuan is in fact aware of his skills in life. As of the moment, Jin Zixuan is the sole inheritor of his father’s fortune. Despite the number of half-siblings that Jin Zixuan apparently has, or perhaps because of it, he is confident that he will always be the sole inheritor. That is, unless Jin Guangshan decides to withhold the inheritance to remind Jin Zixuan that he is the only way Jin Zixuan can provide for his family. So Jin Zixuan needs the inheritance, no matter what A-Li says.

Which is why he’s standing here, on his twenty-seventh birthday, trying not to look too nervous as his brother calmly locks his car door. 

“Thank you for coming, A-Yao,” Jin Zixuan finally says, forced but sincere. 

Realistically Jin Guangyao knows that he can expect better treatment from his half-brother than he can with Jin Guangshan as the CEO of Jin Industries, but naively Jin Zixuan still hopes that Jin Guangyao has some room for frivolous things like brotherly affection and genuine kindness. 

Jin Guangyao puts his keys in his pocket and walks around his car to the gate. He’s not a moment too soon: a silver car rolls in after Jin Guangyao’s Rolls-Royce, and parks just a little too close for comfort. 

The first out of the silver car is Qin Su, from the driver’s seat. The gold trim and white hem of her floor-length evening gown trails over the edge of the car as she exits, and as she stands up Jin Zixuan realizes that she really went all-out. She’s dressed in white and gold, complete with a pink peony flower, and her hair and face indicates that she spent at least two hours getting ready. From the way she walks up to him in her white high-heels, Jin Zixuan knows that she knows that she’s stunning. If she wasn’t his daughter, Jin Guangshan would probably make a comment about it. He might anyway. 

“The new style suits you, A-Su,” Jin Guangyao says politely.

“Thank you,” Qin Su says, her pretty eyes flashing. “It’s what my mother wore.”

She doesn’t specify when, but Jin Zixuan winces anyway. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says helplessly. 

“And miss a chance to ruin your father’s evening?” Qin Su retorts, and smiles beatifically. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The last sibling emerges from the copilot seat. “It’s your birthday celebration, isn’t it?” Mo Xuanyu points out. 

He’s wearing ripped jeans, a tank top, and heavy black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Jin Zixuan wisely does not comment. Mo Xuanyu pulls on a black puffer jacket as he speaks, which makes him the only one with adequate protection from the chilly February temperature. He’s also the youngest here; Qin Su picked him up from his university on the way here. 

“Technically,” Jin Zixuan says instead. 

Mo Xuanyu shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Jin Zixuan checks his Rolex again, and the golden watch hands proclaim the time to be 7:24. “We’re still waiting on a few more people who said they’d show up.”

 “Who?” Mo Xuanyu asks curiously, and it’s at that moment that a flaming red and black sports car comes roaring down the road, and Mo Xuanyu’s face lights up. 

The door is kicked open, and Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law flings himself out. Wei Wuxian emerges in a black Armani suit, now the tallest person in their smallest gathering, and grins. 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Mo Xuanyu squeaks, and Jin Zixuan holds back a wince. His youngest brother has the most embarrassing idol crush on Wei Wuxian, which is only embarrassing because–

“Mn.” Out of nowhere, Jin Zixuan’s brother-in-law (-in-law?) places himself in front of Wei Wuxian, straightening his white suit coat like it’s even a millimeter out of place. He glares Mo Xuanyu down, and Jin Zixuan goes from feeling embarrassed for his brother to feeling sorry for him. 

“You brought him?” Jin Zixuan complains to Wei Wuxian before he can stop himself.

“Where I go, Lan Zhan goes,” Wei Wuxian retorts. They’re already holding hands. Jin Zixuan hates this. 

Wei Wuxian’s husband levels his icy glare on Jin Zixuan, and suddenly Jin Zixuan is imagining that glare leveled at his father when Jin Guangshan inevitably tries to get world-renown bioengineer Wei Wuxian to work for Jin Industries again. Perhaps bringing him along isn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“It’s lovely to see you,” Qin Su offers, and the glare is gone, just like that. 

“But not as lovely as you are tonight,” Wei Wuxian says smoothly, and the glare is back.

Jin Zixuan pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers and sighs. He’s so busy sighing that he almost misses the arrival of the last car, a violently purple Jaguar that for once is not racing around at nearly illegal speeds. 

“You’re late,” Jin Zixuan snaps, when the driver’s door opens. 

“I was helping my sister get ready, asshole,” Jiang Cheng snaps right back, slamming his door closed. He straightens the cuffs of his dark purple suit before opening the copilot door for said sister. 

Jiang Yanli ducks gracefully out of the car, and Jin Zixuan’s heart immediately goes gooey in his chest. He’s afraid that his face does, as well, because Wei Wuxian makes a disgusted face at him. 

She wears a layered dress of lavender and rose pink, and the skirts skim over the ground as she steps out of the car. In her arms, she carries a precious little bundle that Jin Zixuan loves with all his heart, and now he knows that his face has gone all gooey with emotions because his wife smiles at him, which really doesn’t help with the emotions. 

Jin Zixuan holds out his arms, and Jiang Yanli places their tiny baby bun in his arms. 

“I’ve finally got him sleeping,” Jiang Yanli says in a hushed voice, and for a moment there’s silence as everyone welcomes the newest, sleepiest, cutest little dumpling to their growing party. 

Jin Ling’s little face is puckered up even in his sleep like he’s thinking hard. Jin Zixuan’s small, sweet bao of a son is dressed in a matching pair of a white jacket and snowpants, complete with a white yarn hat that’s the size of his entire head. 

“It’s good to see you, A-Li,” Qin Su says finally, once the moment of silence has passed.

Jiang Yanli smiles. “You too, A-Su,” she says. “We should get the group back together one of these days.”

Jin Zixuan isn’t sure whether he’s terrified or pleased. Jiang Yanli’s friends from college are a force of nature, and given that they’ve gone on to become a rising neurosurgeon, an environmental scientist, an urban planner, and in Jiang Yanli’s case, a child psychiatrist, they’d be even more a force of nature now. 

“I wanna hold him,” Wei Wuxian says in a stage whisper.

Jin Zixuan directs his best glare at him, holds his sweet little dumpling closer, and prays that his wife won’t cave to Wei Wuxian’s puppy dog eyes. 

“I believe it’s time,” Jin Guangyao intervenes smoothly, swooping in before a fight can break out. 

Jin Zixuan shoots him a grateful look, even though he’s mostly sure that Jin Guangyao didn’t intervene just so that he wouldn’t have to turn his darling baby son over to his brother-in-law. 

“It is 7:30,” Qin Su agrees.

Mo Xuanyu cracks his fingers, grins wickedly, and then puts on a pair of black shades, just to match his black puffer jacket. “Let’s go ruin Dad’s night.”

“Can we not get him to call the cops on us?” Jin Zixuan asks, one step short of begging. 

“My dad is on speed dial in case anyone needs a ride,” Qin Su says, tucking her phone into her purse. 

Of course. The CEO of Qin Industries on speed dial. Though Jin Zixuan supposes that that move is fair, considering that Qin Cangye knows his daughter is going to Jin Guangshan’s house. 

“I think we have enough cars,” Jin Guangyao says.

“But let’s not burn the house down?” Jin Zixuan pleads. It’s true that he asked all of them to come, but please come, I don’t want to be alone with A-Li is not the same as please, I want to pay for damages. 

“No promises.” Wei Wuxian smirks. 

“Nothing that can be proven,” Jiang Cheng adds. Jin Zixuan belatedly remembers that he’d invited them because he knew they would defend A-Li if his father even looked at her funny. Which he might. God, Jin Zixuan hated his family.

“What else is family for?” Wei Wuxian retorts. 

Oh no. Jin Zixuan’s heart is going all gooey again, and this time it isn’t from the adorable sleepy bun in his arms. He furiously tries to force down a blush that heats his cheeks in the cold winter air. 

Jiang Yanli notices, because of course she does, and she steps closer to pat his arm. “He won’t burn the house down,” she says reassuringly. 

Jin Zixuan is privately still dubious, but he doesn’t argue. He turns to the grand white gates. Jin Guangyao stands on his left and half a head shorter, and Jiang Yanli stands to his right. His two other siblings and three in-laws gather behind him. 

Then, with his family dressed to the nines and ready for war, Jin Zixuan unlocks the white gates and sets forth to ruin his dad’s night. 

[besanii]

He watches as Wei Ying backs away from him, the horror on his face twisting like a knife in his own heart as he shakes his head and reaches out a hand towards him to halt his steps. But Wei Yingflinches from his touch, the tears flowing thick and fast now, so he stops where he is and allows him to stumble out of his reach.

“Wei Ying,” he says desperately. “Wei Ying, listen to me—”

“Tell me it isn’t true,” Wei Ying begs. His eyes are red, his nose scrunched and face blotchy from struggling to hold back his tears. “Tell me what he says isn’t true, Lan Zhan. Please.”

Lan Wangji glances at the sky. They’re running out of time. They have less than an hour before the solar eclipse ends, and then it will be too late. These last twenty years of careful planning would have been for nothing. He turns back to Wei Ying, struggling to hold himself together, distraught.

“Wei Ying,” he says again. “I can explain. I promise I’ll explain. But right now, we don’t have much time—”

“No, don’t listen to him, Wei-gongzi.” Meng Yao steps out from behind a gap in the rock formations scattered about the gorge, his dark eyes glinting even as he wears an expression of concern on his face. “He’s only trying to get you to drop your guard for long enough to get what he wants. He doesn’t really care about you. He only cares about saving his lover, whose soul he planted inside your body, and the only way to do that is by killing you.”

“Be quiet!” Lan Wangji snarls, but it’s too late. Wei Ying is already regarding him with distrust, with fear…with heartbreak. “Wei Ying, don’t listen to him. Please—”

“Is he telling the truth?” he demands tearfully. When Lan Wangji hesitates, he raises his voice, panicked. “Answer me! Is he telling the truth?”

There is no reasoning with Wei Ying in this state, so Lan Wangji reins in his temper and impatience and takes a deep breath. He glares at Meng Yao where he stands just out of Wei Ying’s line of sight, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Wei Ying,” he says as calmly as he can manage. “Someone very important to me was grievously hurt and their life in danger—the only way to save him was to send him here, to the mortal realm, to undergo three mortal trials in order to heal his soul so he can return. And you—you are him. I’m trying to save you.”

It almost works. Wei Ying’s features soften into uncertainty for a brief moment, before morphing into disbelief. Into pain. Into betrayal.

“So all this time…I’ve just been a replacement,” he says faintly. “All those times you told me you loved me, all those things you did…was because you took me for him. For your lost lover—”

“No!” Lan Wangji moves forward to take his hands, but Wei Ying shrinks even further away. His arm hangs in the air between them, helpless. “No, Wei Ying, that’s not true. I meant it all. Every word of it.”

“Is that so?” Meng Yao interjects silkily, slipping in behind Wei Ying to murmur in his ear. “Do you know who he is, Wei-gongzi? The man you call Lan Zhan doesn’t even exist. His true identity is Hanguang-jun, the God of War.”

Wei Ying sways dangerously where he stands, but before Lan Wangji can make a move to catch him, he rights himself again, holding a hand to his temple. The other hand is visibly trembling as he uses it to keep Lan Wangji at bay. His face is pale and clammy, a deep frown creasing his brow, damp with sweat.

“Hanguang-jun?” he says, voice strangled. “The God of War?”

He looks to Lan Wangji pleadingly, but Lan Wangji says nothing to refute it. There’s nothing he can say to refute it, even if he had wanted to. Guilt and shame rise in his throat like bile, but they don’t have time. The eclipse is almost over. He clenches his fists, squares his shoulders, and raises his head.

“Begone, demon,” he thunders, voice echoing around the gorge. Both Wei Ying and Meng Yao clap their hands over their ears in pain at the sound. “You will not poison his mind any further!”

Wei Ying has fallen to the ground with a whimper, his head still in his hands; mortal ears are not made to hear the voices of gods, even if the soul inside the body is an immortal one. Lan Wangji wants desperately to go to him, to ease his pain, but he must first rid him of Meng Yao’s influence. Bichen materialises before him, unsheathed and pointed directly at Meng Yao’s chest; the demon laughs, high and mocking, and claps his hands in delight.

“Yes, yes, there it is,” he laughs, “the righteous and mighty Hanguang-jun, here to rid the world of the evil demon! Look carefully, Wei-gongzi—look carefully at your beloved!”

But Wei Ying doesn’t raise his head, doesn’t spare Lan Wangji or Meng Yao a glance. He’s hunched over, kneeling on the cold ground, hands over his ears; he sobs and shakes his head, his lips moving silently over and over. The sight of his distress roots Lan Wangji to the spot, striking him through the heart like a bolt of lightning. Bichen clatters to the floor.

“Wei Ying…Wei Ying, please,” he begs, sinking down to his knees. “Wei Ying, please trust me. You have to trust me.”

Meng Yao laughs again.

“Trust you?” he says. “How can you be trusted, Hanguang-jun? You’ve been lying about your identity to his face for three years! What else have you been lying about? Your relationship? Your feelings?”

His next words are choked on a gasp as Bichen buries itself into his chest. He grins at Lan Wangji and waggles his fingers playfully at the two of them as his physical body begins to disintegrate into wisps of smoke.

“Is he even real, Hanguang-jun?”

Wei Ying goes very still. The last piece of Meng Yao fades, the ghost of a menacing grin accompanied by his chilling, mocking laughter carried through the gorge on the smoky remains of his corporeal body.

Lan Wangji’s heart drops to his stomach. He staggers forward and falls to his knees in front of him, every fibre of his being screaming to take him in his arms and shield him from Meng Yao’s cruel words, but he can’t. Not when Wei Ying continues to shy from his touch. Not even if the flicker of flame in his chest threatens to shatter from the pain.

He clenches his jaw against the pain. The flame spirit is weakening with every passing moment, and once it goes out his body will return to its frozen stasis without his heart. But he can’t do that until the soul inside Wei Ying’s body—until Wei Ying reascends.  He needs to get Wei Ying’s trust, needs Wei Ying to see—they’re running out of time.

“Wei Ying,” he tries again, his hands hovering over his shoulders, aching to touch. “My name is Lan Wangji. I am also Hanguang-jun, the God of War. I do have an older brother—his name is Lan Xichen, but you would know him better as Zewu-zun, the God of Medicine and Healing.

“I made a promise to watch over you, to protect you, but I couldn’t protect you from the people who wanted to destroy you for something that wasn’t your fault—so we devised a plan to send you here to the mortal realm to protect you from them until you were strong enough to return. This is the last trial. After this, it will all be over. They won’t be able to hurt you anymore. You’ll be immortal again—”

“But I won’t be me, will I?” Wei Ying says softly. He lifts his head from his hands, staring down at them like he’s seeing them for the very first time. “I won’t be Wei Ying. Or have I always been just a doppelganger, an empty vessel that only exists to serve its purpose and then discarded? Is my life here even real? My family? My friends?”

“Of course you’re real,” Lan Wangji replies, aghast. “Wei Ying, you’re real. Everything here is real. All of it.”

Wei Ying looks at him then, his eyes haunted by doubt and sorrow.

“Did you ever love me?” he asks. “Not him. Me. Wei Ying. Did you ever love me for me? Or was it because I’m him?”

Wei Ying. Bright, beautiful Wei Ying who had suffered so many hardships in his short life and still smiled with so much joy. Who had taken him in without a second thought when he had thought him in danger, had done his best to nurse him back to health despite his being a perfect stranger. Who had forged a life of his own, and who just wanted to be loved.

If only we could be like this forever, he had thought fondly only last night as he pressed a kiss to Wei Ying’s forehead. Just Wei Ying and Lan Zhan.

The words die on his tongue. The hesitation is answer enough.

Wei Ying laughs, brittle, hard, wounded.

“You must love him a lot, to be willing to do so much for him,” he says bitterly. “He must be an amazing person to be loved by you.”

“Wei Ying…” Lan Wangji starts. He trails off, unsure of what to say. “I—”

Wei Ying shakes his head and holds up a hand to stay his words.

“Don’t say anything.” Lan Wangji closes his mouth immediately. “I have no way of knowing if anything you’ve ever told me about yourself is real. I don’t know if what you’re tell me right now is real. But I know that Wei Ying is real. Everyone I know here: Jiang-shushu, Yu-furen, Jiang Cheng, Shijie. All of them are real. This life is real. Everything inside me tells me it’s real. I know it in my soul.”

He looks up at Lan Wangji then, his eyes brittle and anguished. He’s so beautiful, even now. The shame and guilt of what he’s about to do, the selfishness of his own decisions, wages war with the anxiety inside Lan Wangji. But they don’t have time. It must be obvious, because Wei Ying shakes his head and exhales.

“I don’t know if you love Wei Ying,” he says, his voice cracking. “But I know you love him. And I know I love you. So whatever you need from me that will save him…you can take it. Just take it.”

He reaches out and takes Lan Wangji’s head between his hands, presses their foreheads together and stares deep into his eyes. In them, Lan Wangji sees an infinite amount of sorrow, resignation…and love. Pain lances through his chest at the sight, the flame spirit sitting in place of his heart flaring painfully in response. He gasps around it, tears burning in his eyes.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs into the space between them. “If the whole purpose of my life is to die here today, then that is what I’ll do. But I want you to promise me something.”

He takes a deep breath and traces Lan Wangji’s cheekbone with his thumb, tears spilling down his own.

“When you and your lover reunite, I want you to remember. The person you spent three years with here in the mortal realm, who nursed you back to health and who agreed to marry you—was Wei Ying. Not anyone else. It was Wei Ying. Don’t you dare get us confused.”

He pulls back before Lan Wangji can react, ignoring the aborted noise of protest he makes. He smiles, but it’s lopsided and wobbly at the corners despite the determination in his eyes.

“Do it,” he says, and turns his back on him.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji chokes, his throat constricting. “I—I’m…Wei Ying—”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says softly. “Please. Just do it.”

Above them, the sun is starting to peek out from behind the shadows. The eclipse is almost over. They don’t have much time left—

“Wei Ying,” he says again, tears obscuring his vision until Wei Ying is just a hazy blur before him. He blinks them back and raises his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry—”

Wei Ying bows his head and weeps.

—

Wen Ning looks up at the flash that erupts from the cauldron in the centre of the talisman array. A phoenix burst forth with a shriek, the tips of its fiery wings reaching to the furthest edges of the vast chamber; it circles around twice, drowning the entire place in blazing heat, before slowing down and shedding the flames as it lands.

A tall young man draped in black and red emerges from the fire. He turns to Wen Ning, down on one knee, and regards him with blank, grey eyes.

“Congratulations on your successful ascension,” Wen Ning says, bowing his head. “Wei Wuxian-shangshen.”

Notes:

shangshen (上神) - High God

Based on Love and Destiny (三生三世宸汐缘), where Jiu Chen, the God of War, sends Linxi (a vermilion bird spirit) down into the mortal realm to cleanse her soul of the dark energy that had been imbued into it from when she was a baby, and she returns from it in her true form as a phoenix.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Thank you "Worthwhile Trade". The idea of Baxia turning into an guai is so interesting. I liked imagining the part where she hit NMJ for his idiocy. My brain is projecting "married couple" vibes, omg. I admit despite how weird WWX spoke about the events, the time travel part flew over my head until the tags spelled it out for me. (TBC)

(Cont'd) Also... did NMJ mean it in THAT dual-thing way when talking WRH's prefs? And the last part, where WWX used resentful energy to sub NMJ's qi. I assume he can still cultivate since his core's still there, if emptied? But I wonder what'll happen to his energy once restored Can't help but think his renewed qi will inevitably be affected by the traces of the previous energy that once circulated. He's not going to become a walking stygian tiger or something, is he? Off the wall guess, sorry!

----

sequel to Worthwhile Trade (ao3), also on tumblr

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

He didn’t understand the way he thought, the way he acted – the way he smiled when he woke up, the way he opened his arms when Nie Huaisang threw himself into them with a wail and said, “It was worth it for you, didi; it always is if it’s for you. Don’t you know that?” the way Wei Wuxian had always shamefully thought of saying, as if something like that could just be said like that, out in the open.

The way Nie Mingjue shrugged when the doctors said his cultivation would likely never recover, that he should have died, that they didn’t understand why he hadn’t; the way he said, seeming even satisfied, that it was a worthwhile trade.

It’s not a trade, Wei Wuxian wanted to scream at him. It’s a sacrifice! It hurts and you’re sad, no, worse, you’re resentful about it and you shouldn’t be because it was your choice, your decision, but you see someone else with everything that you worked so hard for and you’re angry when you shouldn’t be angry and you feel bad and you turn away; it hurts them when you do and you’re glad, you miserable thing, you’re happy that they’re hurt because why should you be the only one whose hurt –

Perhaps the problem wasn’t that he didn’t understand Nie Mingjue.

Perhaps it was only that he saw in Nie Mingjue his own faults, his own deficiencies, the ones he’d tried so hard to hide in the sea of his poor memory.

“You’ll die if you don’t find a way to cultivate,” he said instead, hovering by the door. He’d say that he didn’t mean to ruin the mood, but he kind of did, and Baxia’s eyes on him were cold as if she knew.

As if she knew everything.

How he’d gone back to the past, how he’d changed things, how it was his fault that Nie Mingjue – who’d never done a single thing to hurt him, who’d been upright and righteous and good and whose brother loved him enough to –

Wei Wuxian had made a point of avoiding Baxia.

Not that she was that easy to avoid. She was tall for a woman – not as tall as Nie Mingjue, but proportionate to him in the sense that she was as much taller than the average woman as he was taller than the average man – and she walked as though people should flee before her, a tread that only felt heavy because of the almost visceral rage that surrounded her like a cloud.

Nie Huaisang had found robes for her, somehow, and they were the least feminine robes Wei Wuxian had ever seen a woman wear, though he supposed he still hadn’t seen that given that Baxia wasn’t exactly a woman.  Cut in a martial style, a dark shimmering grey that seemed in some lights to be almost red – she had been born as a human in a mantle of blood and she would not let anyone forget it.

“I should have died already,” Nie Mingjue said, as if the world’s scariest guai didn’t have her hand on his shoulder right next to his vulnerable neck. “You came up with a solution, Wei-gongzi, and for that I thank you. Even if we are not able to solve the next stage, being able to see my loved ones is worthwhile.”

Wei Wuxian could learn to hate that word.

“I have a solution, of a sort,” he said, irritated and not entirely because his reveal had been preempted. He’d hoped to sort of ease into it, somehow. “You lack the capacity for regular cultivation, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use demonic cultivation.”

“What? No, we can’t do that,” Nie Huaisang said, biting his fingers anxiously. “Anyway, doesn’t demonic cultivation harm the temperament?”

“You mean my temperament can get worse?” Nie Mingjue teased, and Nie Huaisang smacked him so lightly that it didn’t even displace his clothing. “I don’t know any means of demonic cultivation, Wei-gongzi –”

“Call me Wei Wuxian,” Wei Wuxian said. “Please.”

“Wei Wuxian, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “All the methods I’ve ever heard of were forbidden for very good reasons – but perhaps those conditions are not the same in the method you know.”

Wei Wuxian tensed. “How do you know that I know one?”

“You saved me, didn’t you?” Nie Mingjue said practically, and well, yes, Wei Wuxian supposed he had a point – “And anyway, Baxia can tell.”

Wei Wuxian shivered. “I don’t use it,” he argued. “How can she tell?”

At Nie Huaisang’s instigation, Baxia had recently started experimenting with smiles. She put one on her face now.

It was terrifying.

“Tell me about it,” Nie Mingjue requested. “The powers and the price, all of it.”

“You’re actually considering this?” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “But da-ge…!”

“Wei Wuxian was not wrong when he said that I would die if I didn’t find a way to cultivate despite having given up what I have,” Nie Mingjue said. “If I die, what will you do?”

Oh, not much, just become a mastermind capable of puppeting the entire cultivation world to enact revenge for your death. Nothing big.

“But – da-ge has always put such a priority on remaining on the righteous path…”

“That’s why I asked about the costs,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “I will not abandon righteousness simply because I adopt a new method of cultivating.”

“Everyone will revile you even if you are righteous,” Wei Wuxian warned him.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Who is everyone? What do I care for them? You do the right thing because it is right, not for the sake of fame.”

Wei Wuxian had once thought the same.

“If everyone in the cultivation world thinks you are evil, they will paint you as evil no matter what you do,” he insisted. “No matter how righteous your motives –”

“Let them think he’s evil, then!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “He could be the most black-hearted cultivator in the land, but he’s still my da-ge; my Nie sect and I will protect him!”

“Huaisang! No! That is not how righteousness works – if I ever truly become evil, you are to cut me off at once, kill me if necessary –”

“No way!”

“Huaisang – Baxia, tell him; evil cannot be endured –”

Baxia was looking at her fingernails. She’d picked that gesture up from Sect Leader Ouyang, when he was trying to be pointed about ignoring someone; it was extremely irritating to absolutely everyone who wanted to know who she was and what she was doing here and Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian had teamed up to convince her to keep doing it.

Possibly a mistake, in retrospect.

“Baxia. I know you agree with me on this. Evil is evil, and must be eradicated no matter who it may be.”

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know I’m not evil yet,” Nie Mingjue argued, apparently understanding her without any difficulty whatsoever. He’d just woken up from a month-long coma and he could already speak fluent human-saber, it was really unfair. And this man had succumbed to Jin Guangyao’s wiles? Lan Xichen had more to answer for than he knew. “But if I ever become evil – what? No, we will not burn that bridge when we come to it, that’s not even the right idiom, who is teaching you these things –”

Nie Huaisang coughed and hid his face behind a fan.

Wei Wuxian was not going to laugh.

Nie Mingjue growled at them all and turned back to Wei Wuxian. “Explain,” he demanded. “The rest of you, out.”

“But –”

“Out. One of us has to cultivate the righteous path, and if it can’t be me, it has to be you. Baxia?”

She picked Nie Huaisang up by his collar, for all the world like a mother dog picking up her pup by the scruff of its neck, and walked out.

Nie Mingjue picked up demonic cultivation faster than anyone else Wei Wuxian had ever met or even heard of. He wasn’t sure if that demonstrated an unnerving aptitude or if it was simply that Nie Mingjue was surpassingly talented – Wei Wuxian had never met anyone like himself before, someone for whom all things came easy, and it was an unexpected delight to meet a kindred soul somewhere where he’d long ago given up hope. He’d never planned to unveil demonic cultivation in this life unless he truly needed it – he didn’t want to hurt his Lan Zhan the way he had in his first life, and anyway Jiang Cheng and Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu were all alive, with hundreds of Jiang sect members to boot, there was no need for his sacrifice – but the part of him that was more researcher and inventor than cultivator luxuriated in their discussions.

Nie Mingjue was a lot more concerned than Wei Wuxian had ever been with consequences, and how to mitigate them, but he supposed that made sense: losing his cultivation hadn’t impacted that Nie temper one bit, and demonic cultivation was likely to make things worse. Moreover, Nie Mingjue was simply who he was, stiff and unbending, as much steel in his spine as in Baxia’s; he could almost be described as being rigid in his thinking except for the fact that he was in fact seriously considering becoming a demonic cultivator.

“We’re saber cultivators,” Nie Mingjue said when Wei Wuxian tentatively brought it up. “Like a saber, our nature is to be firm and unyielding, not flexible like the sword, but we cannot allow ourselves to become too rigid – a too-rigid saber will break upon encountering an obstacle. It’s a difficult balance to keep, and one made more difficult by our cultivation style.”

“The demonic cultivation aspects, you mean? Using yao to refine your saber spirit?”

“One day, though not today, I’m going to ask you how you know about that,” Nie Mingjue remarked, and although his tone was causal Wei Wuxian’s back went cold. “And I’ll expect you to tell me the truth when I do. But not today. Anyway, yes, that’s what I mean. Do you know what they mean when they say that demonic cultivation harms the temperament?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. “I assume you’re going to tell me something other than ‘it drives you crazy and makes you kill people’?”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “Sometimes I wonder how someone as smart as you got sent home before you finished your lessons at the Cloud Recesses, but other times it’s fairly obvious.”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, embarrassed.

“Do you really not know?”

“No one taught this to me,” Wei Wuxian said, stung. “I came up with it on my own. How would I know?”

“All demonic cultivation has the same root,” Nie Mingjue said. “Obsession.”

“With killing, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times –”

“Shut up and listen, you impertinent brat. The killing comes later. It starts with obsession. Obsession with righteousness, obsession with love, obsession with the pleasures of this world, with power – a human becomes a demon when they cannot overcome the obsessions within their heart, and the obsession consumes them. In time, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with power will do whatever it takes to obtain that power, and not mind the blood shed to do it; a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with love will kill everyone who they perceive stands between them and their love, a demonic cultivator who is obsessed with righteousness will turn to murder when in their judgment something that ought to be condemned goes unpunished…”

“What about one who only wants what’s best for his family?” Wei Wuxian said, and he did not know if the challenge in his voice was about Nie Mingjue’s future or his own past.

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Two roads that I can see: first, their family turns away from them for what they have become and they become vicious with the abandonment, becoming quick to lash out against the world and eventually doing something that causes the world to turn against them.  Second, their family stands by them, and eventually the world causes some harm to them – and the demonic cultivator turns to madness in revenge.”

“Not exactly an optimistic outlook.”

“Not especially, no.”

“You don’t seem as concerned by that as I would have thought.”

Nie Mingjue’s lips twitched. “I have a solution.”

“Would you like to share?”

“Using resentful energy to cultivate our sabers makes them prone to obsession, driving them ceaselessly to fight evil, destroy it, without discrimination. It makes them stronger, but also more dangerous – and that is why they must be carefully controlled.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “So, what? You’re going to be the saber now? Under whose control?”

“Huaisang’s, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious. “For better or for worse, he is sect leader now. Who else would it be?”

“But – what if you disagree? What if he wants to do things one way, and you another –”

“Then I argue and probably yell a lot, and if in the end he still insists on doing things his way, I listen,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “That’s how hierarchy works. Isn’t it the same for you? When your shidi, Jiang Cheng, becomes sect leader, you’ll need to listen to him – or leave the sect. There’s no middle ground.”

Wei Wuxian scowled.

“A sect leader that can’t control his disciples is worse than a demonic cultivator,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s weak. A target, ripe to be ripped apart and devoured by other sects – resources raided, disciples poached, responsibilities taken away...It’s not a fate I would wish on anyone. If you can’t commit to obeying, commit to leaving so that you don’t end up promising more than you can give.”

Ouch.

Just – ouch.

Great advice, fantastic advice, world-class advice, and totally useless because Jiang Cheng had travelled back in time with him and was therefore convinced that Wei Wuxian was just looking for the first way out of the Jiang sect he could find, no matter what Wei Wuxian said or did about it.

(Even Madame Yu was concerned by the new coldness in their relationship and had tried to talk to him about it, which – Wei Wuxian didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t match any of what he had thought he’d understood.)

He decided to focus back in on the demonic cultivation lessons, shifting from theoretical discussions to the practical, and that, unfortunately, was when they encountered an issue.

“What do you mean you can’t play an instrument?” Wei Wuxian demanded, appalled. “It’s one of the Six Arts! Everyone can play some sort of instrument – even Nie Huaisang plays an instrument!”

“Everyone agreed it was better that I stop learning,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. “It’s all just plucking on strings or blowing air in pipes, and yet no matter that I did exactly what the teacher said to do, it never worked, that’s all.”

“Didn’t Zewu-jun offer to teach you…?”

“He did. And then he said it would be better if we stopped, too.”

The reason, Wei Wuxian soon learned, was that Nie Mingjue was almost completely tone deaf, and the only reason it was almost was that he was still capable of differentiating speech.

“I agree with the majority,” he said after an extremely frustrating day. “Stop. Never pick up an instrument ever again. And don’t let anyone but Zewu-jun play something especially for you, either, okay? Even if they’re highly recommended.”

“An interesting request,” Nie Mingjue said, eyebrows arched skeptically. “May I ask why?”

“Because you’ll have no idea if they’ve changed the music on you,” Wei Wuxian said bluntly. A great deal about the man’s murder in a different life made sense now, and Jin Guangyao’s brilliance in hiding the score of Turmoil inside of Clarity was a little less impressive when played to a man who thought all music, without exception, was just plucking strings or blowing air. “Musical cultivation is deadly in the right hands, especially if you lower your defenses against it. Just consider it a precaution.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows remained arched, but he hummed in agreement.

“I guess we’ll have to think of a new way for you to cultivate demonic cultivation,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his face. He had not been planning on having to invent demonic cultivation at all in this life, and now he needed to not only ‘invent’ the original but actually come up with something new. Why was his life so hard? “How did you previously manipulate external energy?”

“With Baxia.”

“Well, that’s not helpful, is it? You can’t wield a human being. Perhaps another saber…?”

That didn’t work, primarily because it turned out that Baxia had strong feelings about Nie Mingjue even thinking about using another saber and well, as far as Wei Wuxian was concerned, whatever Baxia wanted, Baxia got.

(Nie Huaisang had had to go to Heijan once, with Wei Wuxian and Baxia accompanying him since Nie Mingjue wasn’t ready yet, and some unlucky Wen captain had tried to ambush them. That captain, and his squad, were not granted the courtesy of an intact corpse, and Baxia hadn’t even gotten a speck of blood on her nice new robes – no, Wei Wuxian would not be crossing Baxia any time soon.)

“There’s got to be something,” Wei Wuxian said, and Nie Mingjue agreed, and in the end they found something.

Nie Mingjue had been absent-mindedly playing around with one of Nie Huaisang’s fans when one of the fierce corpses Wei Wuxian had raised as practice targets had gotten loose; instinct had taken over and Nie Mingjue had lashed out with the weapon at hand as if it were a saber, and the resentful energy had surged in response –

Baxia was apparently not threatened by the notion of her master using a fan as a weapon, not even one inlaid with steel and heavy cloth with enough layers to catch a sword in.

(If Wei Wuxian needed to go have some time to himself at the sight of Nie Huaisang, dressed as a sect leader with his saber always at his side, standing next to Nie Mingjue holding a fan – well, that was his problem, and also one he intended to show to Jiang Cheng at the next possible opportunity. Someone else deserved to have their mind wrecked by the incongruity as much as he had.)

Even without the weirdness of Nie Mingjue, it was more than a little odd to see Nie Huaisang in the robes of a sect leader without him acting like the Head-shaker. The shock of having to become sect leader had fallen heavily on him: he had become a little more serious, a little more earnest (though still a bit frivolous); he was more inclined to listen and think things over, less inclined to run away.

“If da-ge is going to become a demonic cultivator, someone needs to stand behind him,” Nie Huaisang said simply when Wei Wuxian had tried probing. “He’s always held the world up for me – it’s the least I can do for him. I may not be able to do much, I might be terrible at it, but I owe it to him to at least try.”

Wei Wuxian wondered, sometimes, if Jiang Cheng would have stood up for him if only he had trusted in him, believed in him, the way Nie Mingjue believed in his notoriously useless little brother.

Maybe he’d ask, when he went back to the Jiang sect.

Maybe he’d –

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Jiang Cheng said as a greeting, and for once Uncle Jiang didn’t disagree. “All those letters and you never once mentioned the terrors?”

“The what,” Wei Wuxian said, and that was how he learned that while he was on his way back to Yunmeng neither Baxia nor Nie Mingjue had wasted any time utilizing their newfound skills out on the battlefield.

Nie Huaisang was never going to be a particularly respected sect leader, especially by those that had met him beforehand, but evidently that wasn’t really important given that he was constantly flanked by what was being called the two terrors of Qinghe.

Nie Mingjue preferred darker colors now that he was no longer sect leader, the same dark grey shading towards black that Baxia had selected for herself, and the selection somehow made him seem even taller, verging on inhuman, and Baxia standing beside him, her human features patterned roughly after his, made the two of them appear a matched set. Nie Mingjue wielded the fan that Wei Wuxian had helped him design, which he had forged with his own hands out of the metal from the Xuanwu’s cave that Wei Wuxian had foolishly figured someone ought to get some use out of, painted over with a cinnabar array in Nie Huaisang’s careful brushstrokes, and in his hands it was both weapon and conduit for the raising of armies of corpses. Baxia, for her part, held nothing but required nothing, a sweeping gesture of her hand more devastating than a dozen blows with the saber.

They were terrifying, a nightmare writ large and unmistakably dangerous, undeniably demonic cultivators in a way that was entirely different from Wei Wuxian’s own dramatics, and it unnerved the rest of the cultivation world the way Wei Wuxian had feared it would.

“It won’t be a problem,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “The Nie sect are ascending in strength, and this only adds to their mystique – who would challenge them?”

“Uh, Jin Guangshan,” Wei Wuxian said. “Like last time?”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “At this rate, I don’t even think Jin Guangyao will bother defecting to the Jin sect,” he said. “Not if he knows how to play his cards right. The Nie sect’s strength in the original version was never about Chifeng-zun’s skill with the blade alone. It was the whole sect’s strength, with Chifeng-zun’s ability to wield them as skillfully as he did his saber; he’s an outstanding general. And now they have him as a general, him as a demonic cultivator, and whatever the fuck is going on with Lady Baxia –”

“I already told you. She’s a guai.”

“Like I already told you, it doesn’t matter how many times you say that, I will immediately expel the knowledge from my mind and you should too. ‘Immortal cultivator cousin that my brother named his saber after’, like what Nie Huaisang has been putting about, is a perfectly acceptable cover story.”

“And the fact that his saber disappeared at the same time?”

“Coincidence,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. “And we’re sticking with that. Anyway, the point is that if you’re an ambitious man, the Nie sect is the place to be right now and probably will continue to be in the future. This is going to be evident to both Jin Guangshan and the future Jin Guangyao, and we’ll need to deal with that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Wei Wuxian promised. “After rescuing Chifeng-zun and helping with the demonic cultivation, I’ve gotten pretty close to them.”

“Mm. And how about your other mission?”

Wei Wuxian scowled at the smirk on Jiang Cheng’s face. “You know perfectly well that I haven’t had any time to seduce Lan Wangji, what with how busy I’ve been. I don’t even know for sure if he likes me yet -!”

“You’re an idiot, he does, and you’re not allowed to keep us all in suspense for two decades this time. Figure it out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m sticking you with the job of being an information courier and you leave for the Lan sect front line tomorrow.”

“You are the best shidi ever,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it.

Jiang Cheng huffed. “Yeah, well,” he said as if his cheeks weren’t red. “Remember that in the future. In this life we’re the Twin Heroes, you hear me? No take-backs.”

Nie Mingjue was right: Wei Wuxian would need to either learn to obey or tell Jiang Cheng early on that he was leaving, and walking a path in the middle would only cause heartbreak all over again.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to ask Lan Wangji for advice on obedience. Surely that was something that could be learned? “Deal. You do know that that means Lan Wangji’s going to have to marry in, right?”

“Oh no,” Jiang Cheng said, voice entirely flat. “How terrible. I’ll find a way to manage dealing with that ice block somehow…listen, I don’t care if you end up calling him Wei Sizhui in this life, but don’t ruin his character. He was perfectly nice.”

“I don’t know if he’s even been born yet,” Wei Wuxian said glumly. “I’ve been looking, but…”

“I’ve asked some of Mother’s spies to keep track of Wen Ning and Wen Qing,” Jiang Cheng said. “Collecting evidence we’ll need for their inevitable post-war trial, assuming we want them to live better lives than just refugees. Give it time, we’ll find him.”

“Now I just need to see if Lan Wangji will want to raise children with me…”

“Wei Wuxian. I don’t care. Go.”

[mhalachai]

advance snippet: Updating Wednesdays on Patreon (The Untamed)

So. Do I need to write an Untamed modern!AU with a college twist (Lan Xichen is a music professor in Canada) in which Wei Wuxian attempts to self-therapy himself by creating a graphic novel fantasy AU version of his life (aka the real story of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) and Lan Xichen attempts to rebuild his life after a toxic relationship ended? I mean probably not but has that ever stopped me?  here’s the intro snippet we’ll see how things go.

(Title is tentatively Updating Wednesdays on Patreon because i don’t know what to call this thing)

~~

The first day of August finds Lan Xichen in a coffee shop, tinkering with the syllabus for his new music theory course, when his phone pings with a message.

> Lan Wangji: Brother.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying has asked me to inform you that he will be publishing the first collection of pages in his new graphic novel on Patreon this afternoon.

Lan Xichen smiles at Lan Wangji's tone. For all that his little brother is more verbose in electronic communication than verbal, he's always so exact.

> To Lan Wangji: Can't wait! What's it about?

The little cursor blinks for a while as Lan Wangji continues to type. Lan Xichen just hopes that his brother-in-law's creative enthusiasm isn't running up against Lan Wangji's sensibilities.

Finally, a reply appears.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying wants me to tell you that it is completely fictional.

This gives Lan Xichen pause. Why on earth would Wei Wuxian, or Lan Wangji himself for that matter, need to make that declaration?

> Lan Wangji: It is a high fantasy xianxia story.

Before Lan Xichen can ask why that is causing this odd message exchange, another notification pops up on his phone.

> Wei Wuxian: Lan Xichen! Lan Zhan types so slow! It's just a different art style I wanted to try out and it snowballed from there!

> Wei Wuxian: I know you follow me on Patreon so you're going to get the notification this afternoon so I wanted to warn you hahaha

> Wei Wuxian: All names and places are purely fictional. I don't really have a sword.

Another message arrives, with all the information Lan Xichen needs.

> Lan Wangji: This matters a great deal with Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen smiles at his brother's words. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been together since their junior year of high school, through a great deal of personal difficulties on both sides, and are still as fiercely protective of each other as ever. He loves them both for it.

> To Lan Wangji: Thank you for the information. I'm sure it will be great.

> To Wei Wuxian: Can't wait to see it! Anything you do is always great.

No more messages arrive, so Lan Xichen goes back to considering how to change the quiz structure of his musical theory class to avoid a marking crisis with the evaluation of his ensemble class.

Finally, as Lan Wangji gathers up his papers to leave, one last message comes in on his phone.

> Lan Wangji: Thank you for your support. We all appreciate it.

Attached to the message is a photo taken of Lan Wangji's family, he and Wei Wuxian holding Lan Yuan between them. The toddler grins at the camera, his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck. Wei Wuxian's looks at the camera, dark circles under his eyes like he's working through the night again, while Lan Wangji only has eyes for his husband.

It's so wholesome and loving that a sliver of pain rakes through Lan Xichen's heart. He's happy for his brother. His brother deserves the world. Lan Wangji deserves being loved, and to love.

Not everyone gets that. Sometimes, that falls apart.

Sometimes, for some people, love is just an illusion.

Lan Xichen tucks his phone away and leaves the coffee shop.

~~

He gets home mid-afternoon, and spends a while stowing away the groceries he picked up on his walk. The neighbourhood has several Greek and Persian markets and he's able to buy most of what he needs on foot, saving the Chinese markets in Richmond for his weekly dim sum brunches with Lan Wangji's family when he can borrow the use of Lan Wangji's sensible and economical mini-van.

He doesn't drive any more, not since—

Lan Xichen stops and puts down the bag of avocados. His mind is a funny place, bringing up the oddest things at the most inconvenient of times.

He doesn't drive anymore. He doesn't need to, using the bus and the odd taxi to transport his instruments up to the university for performances. The public transit system is so much better.

Safer.

He goes back to putting away the vegetables, pulls out a cookbook (new, spine uncreased, bought for him by Lan Qiren for his birthday) and opens it at random. He's never had coconut curry salmon before, but he has all the ingredients.

Trying new things. He's supposed to be trying new things.

The recipes says it will only take half an hour to make, so he goes up to his office and turns on his computer to check his work email. The message fly fast and furious, some about the new department head, some about class enrollment, a few from students asking if they can get onto his waitlist. He replies to the most urgent, files the rest, then checks his personal email.

The notification from Wei Wuxian's Patreon is up, so Lan Xichen clicks it.

Then he sits back, frankly impressed. He's seen Wei Wuxian's comic style progress since the boy was drawing silly cartoons to entertain Lan Wangji in history class, but even he wasn't prepared for this.

The art is gorgeous. Stylized figures, intricate period costuming, rich backgrounds – it's truly a work of art.

Then he gets a better look the two characters' faces, and laughs out loud. It's Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, clear as day, with long hair and flowing robes. Wei Wuxian's even managed to capture that exasperated-yet-fond look Lan Wangji has whenever Wei Wuxian is being particularly loud.

The introduction is even better. "Join our hero Lan Wangji and dashing rogue Wei Wuxian as they battle deadly monsters and forge a path with demonic cultivation!"

Wei Wuxian hasn't even changed their names. True, he uses his mother's surname professionally, so Cangse Ying can't be easily tracked back, but still.

Lan Xichen wonders for a moment if Lan Wangji is okay with this, but then he notices that the project text is available in both English and in Chinese, with the Chinese written in Lan Wangji's style.

They worked on this together, then.

Trying not to think about why that makes his chest feel funny, Lan Xichen opens to the first page--

-- Which features a bruised and bloodied Wei Wuxian falling off a cliff while a horrified Lan Wangji screams after him.

Confused, Lan Xichen makes sure he hasn't accidentally read the last page first. No, this is the first. Still a little baffled, he clicks to the next page, sees the stylized banner that reads six years ago and relaxes. This is Wei Wuxian's style of using flashbacks to interrupt the narrative flow. Lan Xichen spent most of Lan Wangji's university years hearing his brother's despair for Wei Wuxian's artistic choices in essay form.

But enough about the past. Lan Xichen settles in to read the first chapter of the story, where Wei Wuxian and his siblings (Jiang Yanli drawn lovingly, Jiang Cheng with a bigger frown and more menacing eyebrows than Lan Xichen remembers) traveled to the Cloud Recesses (the sarcastic nickname Wei Wuxian gave to Lan Qiren's West Vancouver mansion) for cultivator lectures. Lan Xichen is there on the page, too, drawn taller and far more imposing than he is in real life.

The first encounter between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is fantastical and improbable and, according to Lan Xichen's recollection, almost completely accurate. Wei Wuxian had mouthed off at Lan Wangji at the weekend orientation camp for their new arts high school, Lan Wangji glared the boy into submission, then later that night when Wei Wuxian tried to sneak back onto school grounds with alcohol, he and Lan Wangji had gotten into a fight. Verbal, instead of with swords, and without the supernatural murder victims, but Lan Xichen remembered everything else from Lan Wangji's indignant recitation on his return home.

He keeps reading, enjoying the art and the lyrical narration, and keeps enjoying it right up to the scene when Nie Huaisang appears on the page to offer Lan Qiren a present, Meng Yao standing right behind him.

Lan Xichen doesn't remember standing up, but here he is, two feet away from his computer, heart pounding. He hadn't—Why—

What was Meng Yao doing in a story about Wei Wuxian's high school years?

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen makes himself return to his desk. As far as he knew, he was the one who introduced Meng Yao to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, when the boys were in university and after he and Meng Yao started dating--

Lan Xichen can feel his heartbeat slow, as he tries to breathe. He needs to stop this foolishness over Meng Yao. They dated before living together for a while, that was all. They broke up. It happens to people all the time.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in college for most of that time, anyway, living their lives. They barely knew Meng Yao, even if Wei Wuxian's sister married Meng Yao's half-brother. They couldn't know how badly Lan Xichen had messed up their relationship, how terrible he had been to live with. It was his fault that—

Stop.

Stop.

It's over. In the past. A story that has Meng Yao as a minor character isn't going to mess with Lan Xichen's head. He's not going to let it.

He exhales and makes himself look back at the screen.

Meng Yao only shows up a few more times. For some reason, he's the only character who isn't tagged with his own name. He's there handing over the present to Lan Qiren, standing in front of Nie Huaisang when the Wens arrive, then in two last panels in which he tells the on-screen Lan Xichen that he has to return to Nie Mingjue's side.

Lan Xichen's stomach sours. He and Nie Mingjue had been close, before Meng Yao came into Lan Xichen's life. After that, Lan Xichen hadn't had much time for anyone else. That was normal, Meng Yao always said. People in love only needed each other.

Lan Xichen picks up his phone, then puts it down. He can't ask Lan Wangji about this. It would be weird. Wei Wuxian must just be making artistic narrative choices.

The chapter ends soon after, with Wen Qing and Wen Ning welcomed grudgingly into Cloud Recesses. The next chapter is due up in two weeks, the page declares, and welcomes any comments or feedback. A few people are already posting, gushing over the art work and discussing the teaser from the opening page.

Wanting to be supportive, Lan Xichen writes a small review, complimenting the artistic style, the intricacies of the outfits, poses a query as to the different colour palettes between the first page (dark, red, menacing) and the flashback scenes in Cloud Recesses (light, airy, hopeful), then translates the comment into English and posts both versions up. If Lan Wangji is going though all the trouble of ensuring a bilingual experience, then he will too.

He should go start dinner, he really should, but some part of him is drawn back to the first panel in which Meng Yao appears. He's shorter than Lan Xichen remembers in life, the long hair and braids suiting his face.

It's been so long since Lan Xichen last saw Meng Yao. He's not sure what he's thinking. Is he wistful? Mournful? Sad?

He doesn't know. He never knows what he feels about Meng Yao, which was the problem. He's not normal about feelings. Even Lan Wangji, whose brain is a unique and complicated thing, looking for order and reason and patterns in an illogical and messy world, loves fiercely, feels passionately. Maybe he got all the love in the family, and Lan Xichen got stuck with the stunted and undergrown heart.

Stirring, he pages back to the first appearance of his on-screen twin. The Lan Xichen on the screen looks patient, kind, a smile hiding behind his eyes.

He hadn't realized this is how Wei Wuxian sees him.

He picks up his phone.

> To Wei Wuxian: What an incredible achievement! The art is amazing!

> To Wei Wuxian: Where is the story from? As it's a work of fiction and has nothing to do with your real life ;)

> Wei Wuxian: Oh hahahha the story is a collaboration of a bunch of ideas! I can't tell u more (sworn to secrecy by my collaborators) but so glad you like it!!!!!!

> To Lan Wangji: Did you do the writing? I love the dialogue.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Wuxian did most of the English. I made it better and did the translation.

> To Lan Wangji: Have you told uncle about this project?

> Lan Wangji: He prefers to speak of my composition achievements.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down and rubs his eyes. The old tension between Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji never goes away. It started in high school with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian, continued into university with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian as well as Lan Wangji's decision to attend a local university for musical studies instead of going to Julliard in Lan Xichen's footsteps, and outrage at the news that Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian to marry him before they even finished their undergraduate degrees.

The resulting years had been a long-standing cold war, with Lan Xichen trying to mediate in the middle. Even the arrival of Lan Yuan on the scene twenty months previous hadn't softened both sides into anything resembling ease.

If Lan Wangji doesn't want to tell their uncle that he and his husband are collaborating on a semi-biographical graphic novel, Lan Xichen isn't going to muddy the waters.

> To Lan Wangji: It sounds like you're enjoying the project.

> Lan Wangji: Working with Wei Ying on any project is enjoyable. I read that couples with young children should try to engage in a mutual hobby outside of parenting.

> To Lan Wangji: Very wise.

He wonders if he should ask about Meng Yao, types out a message to that effect, then deletes it.

> To Lan Wangji: I should start dinner – see you on the weekend for brunch?

>Lan Wangji: Yes.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down. The days are long in August and the sun still bright, but he's tired and he doesn't know why.

~~

anyway that’s where this whole disaster is going. new fandoms are fun. 

[intoxicatingimmediacy]

Fandom Fic Rec Days - CQL/MDZS

I bring you FIC RECS! ENJOY! And to our beloved writers - THANK YOU! I don’t have the words to express my gratitude for how much joy you bring into the world. 

Under the cut there will be pining, there will be devotion, there will probably (definitely) be kink, and most of all there will be rampant wangxian.

For my first ever fic rec post, these are the first stories I thought of without checking my downloads. Some I read long enough ago that I don’t remember them exactly, but they must've hit me hard enough to recall their names off the top of my head. Some of them are definitely top tier ultimate favourites, but many of those are also missing from this list as I’ve spent the last year in Severe Lockdown feat. Hours Of Ao3 Every Day.

A caveat: I read wide - as in, I enjoy interpretations of the characters that contradict how I experience them in canon, as long as they have internal consistency. For example, in canon WWX doesn't read as self-loathing to me - he’s seethes confidence in his abilities; it's his place in the world that he struggles with - but I thoroughly enjoy fics rooted in self-worth issues. So, YMMV.

In the same vein, I like pure CQL, pure MDZS, and mash-ups, as well as RPF; my squicks are few and far between, my triggers nonexistent, and I have happily eaten many a dead dove. For our yown safety, read the tags.

+ Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground, Teen/39k

"Tell Lan Zhan that I'm weeping uncontrollably," Wei Wuxian says to the juniors. "Tell him I'm truly pitiful and he needs to do everything I say until I'm well again."

Lan Congyi is in the middle of carefully holding his eyelids open to check his pupils, but he still obeys, bless him. "Hanguang-Jun, Senior Wei would like us to tell you that he can't stop crying and he'd like for you to do everything he says until he's better." There's a moment of silence, and then Lan Congyi says to Wei Wuxian, "Hanguang-Jun says he already does everything you tell him."

- Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji find themselves cursed, unable to see or hear each other. They figure things out anyway.

(I remember reading this on a long train ride home over a year ago, so spellbound even after finishing, that I alighted a stop too early.)

+ The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch by aubreyli, Teen/20k

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's… surprisingly effective.

(My original comment, because it’s been too long, I think it’s long overdue a re-read: ‘Pure joy! This made my whole week. My cheeks ache from all the giddy smiling at my screen.’)

+ An Account of His Days by theherocomplex, Teen/3k

Someone, someday, may read it, though what they will gain from doing so is anyone's guess. They will learn he loves Wei Wuxian, but that is no secret. It never was.

(Utterly gorgeous and so very much exactly how I headcanon LWJ's inner life.)

+ (our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering, Explicit/36k

The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.

Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:

Lan Zhan fucks.

Lan Zhan fucks.

Lan Zhan fucks.

- Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?

(My salivating comment upon the first read: ‘Ah I'm so glad I waited until you had finished posting the whole glorious thing so I could inhale it in one delicious go. Not that I did, I had to take a break twice, just so that it'd last longer, so I could live with it in my brain for a few hours more.’)

+ Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association by Ariaste, Mature/114k (as of this post, series not concluded)

Two gremlins, their husbands, and the horrible HOA board. As long as nobody gets arrested for arson or murder, we're gonna call it a win.

(Mainly XiYao, with WangXian secondary, but this one is really about the ridiculously stupendously funny. As in, I discovered new sounds coming from myself, ever escalating levels of snortcackling.)

+ For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm, Explicit/171k

The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.

Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.

(This one has so much, the funny, the painful, the smut, it has such meaty substance to it. I get a craving every few weeks to re-read and it never fails to make my belly go swoop. ‘Just... one of the most satisfying reads EVER.’)

RPF

+ Fixtures and Fittings by ella_minnow, Explicit/42k

The client is tall and slim, the padded leather motorcycle jacket he wears adding artificial bulk to his upper body which angles sharply in to slender legs braced wide on either side of the bike. His face is fine-boned and delicate and -

Very, very familiar.

It’s a face that Xiao Zhan has seen daily for the last several months, although never in real life. No, he’s used to seeing it through his kitchen window, twelve feet tall on the billboard that graces the side of the building down the block from his apartment.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s Wang Yibo.

(One of my very first loves in this fandom way back when; wonderfully engaging and detailed.)

+ The Scent of Happiness by mrsronweasley, Explicit/49k

He raises his head up at the drinks menu and that's when the guy behind the counter turns around and greets them both with a smile.

Oh.

Yibo is aware that he's staring, but he just. Can't stop. The guy is tall--taller than Yibo—with long hair tied loosely into a bun. Soft bangs cover his forehead, with longer tendrils framing the most beautiful face Yibo has ever seen on a human person. And Yibo has met a lot of beautiful human people.

(My flailing comment upon first reading: ‘Some moments you had me literally, physically breathless. I kept copypasting exceptionally exquisite sentences out to flail over their particulars but the list got too long. I feel like my ribcage has been cracked open and my heart is bigger after having read your gorgeous words.’ I think I enjoyed it.)

[boxoftheskyking]

Something Good, Part Fifteen

Here’s the second of the Very Difficult Chapters. a great relief

Look, I don’t know shit about mythical ancient China, but I feel some kind of way about any society with a noble class, and you know what so does Wei Ying

In which we hear The Tale of Wei Ying

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen

—- Once there was a family, like many families. Mother, father, son, daughter, and somebody else. Don’t sigh like that, Lan Zhan, I’m telling the story. The children could either do nothing wrong or nothing right, depending on who you asked. One year they spent a summer on top of a mountain to learn from the wisest and most beautiful scholars in the world. I’m talking about you and your brother, not your uncle. Are you blushing, Lan Zhan? 

Fine, fine, I’ll skip what you already know. We heard there was an attack, and we left. Did you notice we’d gone? Of course you’d say that now. Fine, fine. 

Uncle was dead when we got there. Madam Yu nearly dead. Jiang Cheng ran out— We tried to stop him, but he’s always so reckless. He’s all heart, Jiang Cheng. People don’t realize that, but he is. 

It was Wen Zhuliu, and some others—I didn’t recognize them. Everything was burning, and Wen Zhuliu came out of the dark … Have you seen him? Have you ever seen what Core Melting Hand can do? It’s like he drained the life out of him. I never thought Jiang Cheng was some glowing, ethereal beauty, ha! But the light was gone. He was a corpse, a breathing corpse. Skin like paper. And Yanli and I stayed out of sight, and they left him for dead and Lotus Pier in flames. So we ran. 

You know Wen Ruohan was behind it, right? All of these attacks on smaller sects, these rogue agents—I’d bet anything I used to own that the Lan Sect ambush was them as well. Oh, your father was there, wasn’t he? I’m sorry, Lan Zhan.

Right.

It took a month, I think. Jiang Cheng kept trying to die. Yanli was barely holding on. Every time he’d try something, she’d break down. It was just me, trying to keep us hidden, trying to keep them alive. They’re so— They feel everything, you know? They feel it so strongly. They can’t help it.

So I wrote to Wen Qing. In code, of course, but she’s clever. She got Yanli safe somewhere with some old aunt or another. I don’t know where. I suppose if I asked—

Ah, I’m stalling. You can tell, can’t you? 

Lan Zhan, have you ever heard of a core transfer? 

Just legends, right? That poem about Yao Ling and Yao Xiulan that romantics like to recite.

You can hold my hand, but not so tight, okay? Don’t be upset. Everyone is fine.

We told Jiang Cheng to meet the mysterious Baoshan Sanren on a mountain and then knocked him out. Wen Qing loves her needles. That’s something you should know about her. 

And so … Ah, it’s hard to say. Why is it so hard to say? So Wen Qing did surgery and gave my golden core to Jiang Cheng. Hey, not so tight. I’m just a poor common man after all. No, I didn’t mean let go!

I don’t know where she learned it. I think she made some of it up, because she’s a genius. I don’t think anyone else could have done it. No one appreciates Wen Qing the way they should. No one but us, now, Lan Zhan.

So we recovered, and I ran. I couldn’t let him find out. It would destroy him. You know—well, you don’t know him very well, do you? Trust me. Maybe someday, far in the future when he’s been a mighty sect leader for years and nothing like this could threaten his position, who he thinks he is. Maybe then I’ll find a way back to Lotus Pier. See Shijie again.

Because I can’t lie to her. And she can’t lie to Jiang Cheng. I couldn’t— can’t risk her seeing me. She’d look me in the eyes for a moment and she’d know. She’s kind of like you in that way, the way she can look into your soul. 

Lan Zhan, you’re shaking. Are you cold? Look, it’s almost dawn.

You know the rest, anyway. I didn’t know how to be mediocre, and the resentful spirits in the Burial Mounds felt it, knew it, filled me up. 

What? Yes, I’m all healed. I can show you the scar if you don’t think it’s too shameless.

It— Two days, I think. I—

I’m not going to tell you about that, Lan Zhan.

–

The sky is a glowing grey, turning everything monochromatic. Here in the dirt Wei Wuxian can’t see much difference between the white and grey of their clothing. Lan Wangji is leaning a bit towards him, still holding his hand. His eyes are distant, aimed somewhere at the ground but not focused on anything. For his part, Wei Wuxian feels like laundry. Boiled and scrubbed and rung out, now swinging in the early morning breeze. He’s as light as a bed sheet, and just as pale.

“You gave your golden core voluntarily,” Lan Wangji says quietly, frowning. “Because of Jiang Wanyin.”

“For Jiang Cheng. Not because of him. It wasn’t his fault.”

“You gave it to him. All of it.”

“You would too, for Zewu Jun.”

“You couldn’t keep any? You had to give it all to him.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “I— You know what, Lan Zhan? I didn’t actually think of that. Wen Qing probably did. I don’t know how she’d split a core, anyway. Huh. I really never even thought to ask. I wish you’d been there!”

Lan Wangji looks up at him, his face twisting painfully

“You didn’t ask. You just gave it—”

“Yes, yes, don’t keep saying that. Now I feel silly.”

“That’s not—” he glares at their joined hands. “Who knows? Who else knows?”

“You. Wen Qing. Zewu Jun now, I suppose. That’s it. You can never tell him, you can never tell Jiang Cheng. You promised.”

Lan Wangji’s glare grows stronger, and Wei Wuxian imagines he can see it drilling into the dirt.

“The transfer. Transplant. How did Wen Qing know—”

Wei Wuxian waves his free hand. “I don’t know. I already told you; I don’t know how she figured it out. It worked though. Aiyah, that’s the worst part of this whole thing! She’s done something no one in the world has dared to try, and it worked! And no one knows.”

Lan Wangji’s head snaps over to him.

“Lan Zhan, she’s so talented. You have no idea, she’s the most— It’s really the worst part of it, not being able to tell anyone. I’d yell it from the top of the mountain if I could! She deserves far greater praise than mine. She’s incredible, your wife.”

“She’s not my wife.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes and gets stiffly to his feet, brushing off his trousers. “Come on, Lan Zhan. If I’m staying then I need to get breakfast for the children.”

“That is the worst part?” Lan Wangji asks, suddenly. He rises in one smooth movement, not a wrinkle in his robes.

“What?”

“Not being able to praise Wen Qing publicly. That is the worst part for you?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “Yeah. It’s not fair.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Are you just going to repeat—” he cuts off with a squeak as Lan Wangji grabs onto his collar and doesn’t let go. “Lan Zhan—”

He’s silenced by Lan Wangji’s mouth, firm and unmoving on his and so incredibly warm. He chokes, with dignity, stumbles closer. Lan Wangji is as still and solid as a statue, until Wei Wuxian shifts and lets a hysterical giggle slip out between their lips. It’s like sunlight melting ice, and his hands come up to hold Wei Wuxian’s neck, his head tilts, and his lips soften into a true and sincere, heart-wrenching kiss. 

Wei Wuxian wonders, for a moment, if he is the statute and life is breathing into him, animating his body and calling his spirit back from the dark, cold place it’s been hiding. He’s kissed people before, but it’s never been like this. It’s always felt like a give and take, but this is giving and giving and falling and rising at the same time.

When Lan Wangji pulls back, Wei Wuxian realizes his eyes are closed and his hands are pressed to the broad chest in front of him, which feels startlingly intimate

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji says seriously, and he freezes at the sudden formality. Oh no. No, no, no— “You have been wronged.”

Ah. He melts back to a watery smile and meets Lan Wangji’s eyes.

“Not by you, Lan Zhan.”

“Yes, by me. By all of us, the whole cultivation world. It was wrong. What can—” he cuts off, frustrated, eyes darting to the side and back. “What do you need?”

“What?”

“It has to be made right. What do you need me to do?”

Bow. Weep. Marry me. Fight Wen Ruohan in single combat. Give me land and a donkey and make everyone leave me alone. Give me your core.

“Just—” he looks down at his hands against the white fabric. They’re rougher than they used to be, callused, scarred, nails dirty and a little ragged. He turns them, runs his thumb over his fingertips. They don’t hurt. They haven’t hurt for weeks. “Let me stay.”

“You were the one leaving. I was going to ask you to stay. To try and make you stay.”

“Good.” 

He back looks up at Lan Wangji, who doesn’t look satisfied. He sighs.

“Look, Lan Zhan, I’ve spent a long time thinking about what could happen if people knew the truth. That’s why it— well, it broke me a little when I thought you did. But nothing I imagined ever felt right. And I think I figured it out today. Nothing can go back to the way it was. Not for any of us. There’s going to be a war, whether Qishan or Lanling starts it, and even if I’m pardoned that doesn’t give me my core back. I still did bad things. Whatever my reasons, I did reckless things that hurt people. When I was cultivating the dark path, I used people, hurt people, ruined graves to wake corpse puppets without even a thought that they had families, that they mattered. I deserve punishment for that. But it’s made me think. How many cultivators would you say there are in each province compared to common people?”

Lan Zhan furrows his brow. “I would need to research.”

“Sure. But who makes the laws for all of these people? Who negotiates trade routes and tariffs? Who starts wars?”

“Hmm.”

“Do any of the people setting a price for grain know how to harvest it? How to tell by touch if the soil is fertile? How to prevent pests, or rot, or any other disaster? What does a bad year mean to the men negotiating the trade of that grain to a province with none? And compared to the common men who pack it, haul it, grind it? When war breaks out, who gives the command to burn the field?”

“I understand.”

“You don’t, but I don’t think I do either. Not exactly. I just— I have questions that I’ve never had before. I think I’ve been telling myself my whole life that there are two options. You can be a cultivator or you can be nothing. That’s how we were raised. But that’s not true. That’s just arrogance. My own pride brought me down, but the problem wasn’t that I was proud, arrogant, entitled. I was just the wrong kind of arrogant.”

Lan Wangji takes both of his hands. “What do you need me to do?”

Wei Wuxian laughs, and the sound startles a tree full of birds into song. “Dear Lan Zhan, we’re not going to solve the world this morning. Come help me get breakfast for the kids.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Well, kiss me again first. Then—”

Lan Wangji huffs. “Wei Ying, you don’t need to work in Cloud Recesses. I don’t believe the sentence was just, and Brother won’t either. You can live here, and we can find someone—”

“No. I’m staying, and I’m taking care of the kids. Not someone else, and not Wen Qing. Me. Deal?”

“If that’s truly what you want.”

“It is. For now. What I really want right now, more than anything else, is to go home with you and get breakfast for the kids.”

Lan Wangji nods solemnly, a final judgement. “Then that is what we will do.”

Part Sixteen

[hils79]

Monday Fic Recs

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji (The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi)

puzzle pieces by yuisaki

“Sorry, I, uh. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ Wei Ying blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that he wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks.

Wei Ying keeps borrowing Lan Zhan’s clothes. It is only mildly driving him insane.

This is absolutely hilarious. Lan Wangji’s inner monologue is delightful. I love fics that are written from his perspective

Attempting the Impossible by ariaste

Jiang Cheng gathers up his determination in both hands and goes to the Cloud Recesses to embark on one of the most difficult endeavors he can imagine: Repairing his relationship with his brother.

To his surprise, he discovers he's become an uncle again... several times over.

Wei Wuxian, what the fuck?!

I always enjoy fics where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng reconcile post-canon and this is wonderful. The author writes their relationship perfectly.

tame by rikke

After the Xuanwu Cave incident, Wei Wuxian wakes up back in Lotus Pier with one hand clutching Lan Wangji and the other hand clutching...an egg?

in which wwx and lwj accidentally hatch a baby xuanwu

This sounds like total crack but it actually isn’t. I mean it is a bit but everyone is perfectly in character and it’s amazing how the presence of a baby xuanwu changes everything for the better. 

I Have Saved All My Ribbons For Thee by damnslippyplanet

Lan Zhan’s fingers feel nice, and so does the comb he extracted from some mysterious pocket where he keeps spiritual weaponry and extra talismans and lubricating oil and snacks for children, rabbits, and Wei Ying. He starts with his fingers, running them through Wei Ying’s hair gently from his scalp all the way to the ends, loosening up the big snarls from where Wei Ying was too hasty. To jump ahead to the fucking. Which is not happening right now, because Wei Ying’s life is very difficult and trying and his husband loves him too much.

A lovely, tender bit of hair brushing

Zhao Yunlan/Shen Wei (Guardian)

Rich in Heart by tethysian

It's not that Shen Wei wants Zhao Yunlan to be exhausted after a long day at work, he just capitalizes on the opportunity when he is.

I really love it when Shen Wei just takes care of Zhao Yunlan and this is a perfect example of it.

Like you're running out of time by frith_in_thorns

Zhao Yunlan is stuck in a time loop. Shen Wei is stuck on the outside.

I love anything to do with time loops. It’s such an interesting concept. This is a wonderful fic that actually looks at the emotional impact something like this would have

Please refer to the list of ingredients by frith_in_thorns

Jiajia, Professor Shen's newest grad student, is nervous at her first faculty-and-guests function at the university. But really, what could go wrong?

I wish there were more fics about Shen Wei getting drunk. This one is adorable

Come as you aren't by frith_in_thorns

It was a very polite kidnapping.

Yeah, I love this author’s fic, hence all the recs. This is a really fun one where Zhao Yunlan goes to extreme lengths to protect Shen Wei’s identity. 

When it snows in summer by yantantether

In Zhao Yunlan's apartment, Shen Wei ushered him to the couch and stood over him as he slumped down. Zhao Yunlan threw his head back with a groan, exposing the line of his throat broken by the bulge of his Adam's apple. Looking up through half-closed eyes, he said, "Well, doc? What are you going to do with me now?"

Another lovely bit of hurt/comfort. This fandom writes it so well!

Revival by qikiqtarjuaq

Not everyone gets a second chance at a new beginning.

Hurt/comfort combined with flashbacks to ye olde dixing era. My two favourite things in one lovely fic. 

Threads Pulled Tight by frith_in_thorns

Zhao Yunlan started zoning out a little. That sense — that awareness of Shen Wei was returning gradually. Wispy tendrils of emotion — fear, where, hurt — and though Zhao Yunlan was trying to organise his plan he still found himself at intervals leaning forward and pressing his knuckles into his closed eyes and trying to project as loudly as he could. Shen Wei, I'm coming for you. Don't give up.

A wonderful psychic bond fic

All the Boundaries Between by frith_in_thorns

In Dixing, expecting to have died after lighting the Lantern, Zhao Yunlan wakes up.

This is exactly the post-canon fix-it fic I needed!

Discidium, Reparandam by galaxysoup

The corner of Professor Shen’s mouth tightens slightly in the specific way that means he’s embarrassed but too reserved to show it, but it does put a halt to his efforts to make sure Zhao Yunlan has his gun, a backup gun, a warm enough jacket, a snack, and a willingness to preserve himself in the face of danger.

Considering the two main characters spend most of this fic separated it’s still amazingly sweet and romantic and gave me all of the feelings. 

Bai Yutong/Zhan Yao (SCI Mystery)

Yes, I am apparently doing multiple fandoms at the same time now. 

jealous of the wind by sarahyyy

“Cut me some slack,” Zhan Yao says, grinning. “I’m just curious. How often is it we get to see an immortal being?”

“If you leave me for Shen Wei, I will literally die,” Yutong grits out. He makes his way to Zhan Yao, and then tackles him to the couch, pressing his face to the crook of Zhan Yao’s neck. “You’re mine, mine, mine.”

(Or, the Guardian/SCI crossover ft. Jealous Boyfriends that no-one asked for.)

This is so much fun and was a great introduction to SCI fic 

now a soft kiss by sarahyyy

He really needs to be given a sainthood after he dies. Saint Bai Yutong — patron saint of criminal psychologists who can’t look after themselves. That has a ring to it.

Kissing out of necessity leads to feelings. I love it. 

Jack/Zhao Zi (History 3: Trapped)

Reliably out of order by weilongfu

Ever since meeting the cute and intriguing IT tech Zhao Zi, Jack's computer has been reliably on the fritz in time for Zhao Zi to come fix it and have lunch with him. Once a week. Every week.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with this situation and no ulterior motives what so ever.

I honestly wasn’t interested in looking for fics for this show, because the show itself gave me everything I wanted. But someone recced this AU to me and it is SO ADORABLE

[ibijau]

Burn it down AU // on AO3 // extras on AO3

His secrets discovered, Jin Guangyao pleads his case. And when everything is over, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a much needed chat.

Warning for character death

The instant Qin Su’s scream finished ringing in the air, footsteps starting to come running in their direction, shouting for their mistress and asking what was wrong. The young woman looked around as if in a panic before grabbing Wei Wuxian and shoving him inside the mirror chamber. This left Lan Wangji no choice but to quickly follow him inside, which Qin Su did not try to prevent.

They stumbled onto a dark room that instantly illuminated the moment they stepped inside, the oil lamps kept there igniting on their own. It was filled with cabinets, and shelves covered in papers, as well as less pleasant things such as torture instruments. Since it wasn’t too dark inside, Lan Wangji was able to see perfectly well that Wei Wuxian looked extremely puzzled, enough so it showed through his disguise. He shared the feeling.

“Do you think he lied to her?” Wei Wuxian asked. “About the Jin blood thing?”

“Hm.” Lan Wangji nodded, hoping that was the case, though he wouldn’t be surprised if there was another explanation. The Jins had never taken marital vows quite as seriously as some other sects did, since they had the money to buy their way out of most scandals. An affair could have happened at any point during the ancestry of Qin Su. Hopefully, at a very far away point. And yet, considering Jin Guangshan’s reputation, and the late Madam Qin’s beauty…

An unpleasant train of thought that Lan Wangji refused to consider at the moment.

Wei Wuxian must have reached a similar conclusion. He grimaced briefly before turning to look at the nearest cabinet, peering curiously.

“Well, we made it here, in the end. Lan Zhan, let’s just look around? I don’t know what’s up with the young Madam Jin, so let’s see if we can get the things we came for, in case she decides to call her husband and we need to run.”

The idea seemed reasonable, so Lan Wangji could make no objections. Even if he had wanted to, it was too late: Wei Wuxian was already walking around the room without any caution. Lan Wangji sighed, though he could not have said whether in fondness or frustration, and followed the other man.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Wei Wuxian grumbled, looking at some loose sheets of paper on a shelf. “I recognise my writing! Those are my notes on raising Wen Ning from the dead, why are they here? I’d have thought everything would have been destroyed.”

“Lanling Jin gathered many of Wei Ying’s possessions,” Lan Wangji explained. “For safekeeping.”

“And then they let people like Xue Yang and little Mo Xuanyu play with those. And I guess it’s also thanks to them that everyone seems to have a compass of evil these days? Eh, if there’s a profit to be had, Lanling Jin is never far behind. Hm? And what’s in there, you think?”

There meant a large cabinet taller than Lan Wangji and a little wider than him as well. It looked at odds with the other items in the room, being obviously made to be sturdy rather than pleasant to look at. It bore the marks of blows and had been slashed at, or perhaps clawed at. Considering the pattern of attack of Nie Mingjue’s corpse, it caught Lan Wangji’s attention as well. One hand on Bichen and ready to draw it out if needed, he stepped closer as Wei Wuxian opened the cabinet.

They both gasped at what they found inside: a man, younger than Lan Wangji, too pale to be alive, with long, wild hair, and restrained by heavy chains around his body. Although he looked at them when the door opened, there was no curiosity in his eyes, no anger, only bleak emptiness.

“Wen Ning!” Wei Wuxian cried out, reaching for the fierce corpse’s chained hands. “Wen Ning what did they do to… wait, but you’re supposed to have been burned? Hey, Wen Ning, say something? What did they cut your tongue?”

Wei Wuxian’s alarm rose the longer Wen Ning remained silent. The fierce corpse was not making any efforts to free himself even now that help had come, making no movement though his eyes were tracking every gesture Wei Wuxian made. It made a shiver run down Lan Wangji’s spine to notice this single trace of Wen Ning left. The Ghost General had always been drawn to Wei Wuxian like a flower to the sun, and it seemed to be true even when his master had changed so drastically, a frail boy now instead of a wasting man. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with Wei Wuxian, perhaps Wen Ning recognised Mo Xuanyu, or he always looked at everyone that way, in this odd state he was in.

“They must have done something to him!” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s not normal, he shouldn’t be like this, he… Lan Zhan, did you know about this?”

The reproach in his voice stung, though considering the circumstances, Lan Wangji could understand the accusation.

"I did not know," he promised. "We all thought him destroyed." He paused, and frowned. "Xue Yang must have known."

Wei Wuxian's shoulder relaxed ever so slightly. His trust soothed the sting that his moment of doubt caused.

"Little bastard," Wei Wuxian grumbled between clenched teeth. "He knew we'd find him. I wonder… Lan Zhan, keep looking around for Chifeng-Zun's head, I'll see if I can do something for Wen Ning. This isn't… He shouldn't be like this." 

"Wei Ying, be careful." 

"I'm always careful," Wei Wuxian replied, which had to be the worst lie Lan Wangji had ever heard in his life, but he let it pass. It wasn't that big of a room, if Wen Ning attacked, he'd be there in an instant to protect Wei Wuxian. 

On one side of the room, Lan Wangji noticed a small desk. Right in front of it was another cabinet, this one covered with a dark, heavy curtain. After another look toward Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji lifted the fabric and gasped lightly in shock at the sight of Nie Mingjue's head. 

After what had happened to the rest of his brother-in-law's body, perhaps Lan Wangji should have expected that even his head would be desecrated in some way. Still, to find it bound and gagged, its eyes and ears covered as if it were a vicious beast rather than the remains of a man, and then positioned in such a way that whoever worked at that desk could gaze upon it and gloat over their victory… 

Lan Wangji was glad that Nie Huaisang wasn't there with them. A sight like that one might have sent him back to the state he was in when he made Mo Xuanyu kill himself. 

With as much gentleness and respect as he could, Lan Wangji took the head from that cabinet, and walked back to Wei Wuxian. The other man didn't notice at first, still too focused on Wen Ning. He only turned when Lan Wangji called his name, and let out a noise of disgust. 

"That Lianfang-Zun holds a pretty mean grudge, uh?" Wei Wuxian commented. "That or the head was just as drenched in resentment as the rest of the body, and someone had to work hard to suppress it."

Lan Wangji nodded. Even just holding it, he could feel Nie Mingjue's rage seeping through the restraints. It would not be easy to put him to rest after everything was over. He had been an extraordinary cultivator in life, and even in death he might prove a challenging opponent. 

Before Lan Wangji could point out this worry of his, ripples appeared on the bronze mirror, and Qin Su joined them, looking a little more composed once more, though not for long. 

Her eyes jumped between them, Lan Wangji holding the desecrated head of an old family friend, Wei Wuxian standing next to the fierce corpse of a long destroyed enemy. At first Lan Wangji feared she would scream again, but though she turned pale and trembled, Qin Su kept her calm. 

"Is this what you came here for?" she asked Lan Wangji, looking him in the eyes to avoid the sight of what he held. "This is… Is this who I think?" 

"Chifeng-Zun and the Ghost General," Lan Wangji confirmed. 

Qin Su had to move close to a wall to support herself, her face growing paler still. 

"Chifeng-Zun… Are you here to accuse my husband of killing him?" 

"You are jumping to that conclusion very quickly," Wei Wuxian noted, abandoning his friend a moment. "Madam Jin, could it be you have suspicions?" 

She shook her head, leaning harder against the wall. 

"They had arguments, but my husband was working on a reconciliation. He went to the Unclean Realm so often, even when I was expecting… Hanguang-Jun, my husband is not that sort of person. He is not a murderer. He owed Chifeng-Zun so much, how could he ever do this? But this… "

Her gaze darted toward the head in Lan Wangji's hands. She shivered and closed her eyes with a faint whimper. 

"It can't be. He goes in this room often, he couldn't have ignored that… Hanguang-jun, did he really do this?" 

Lan Wangji nodded grimly. 

"We have a witness, and other proof," Wei Wuxian added. "This was the last missing piece of the puzzle. I assume you didn't know?" 

Qin Su shook her head again, and let herself slide down on her knees, trembling too much to stand. 

"If I had known… I would have told my father, he would have known what to do. I just cannot believe… A-Yao isn't like that, he's a good man. He can't have done this. Hanguang-Jun, is it certain?" 

"It is," Lan Wangji replied, feeling a twinge of pity for Qin Su when she broke into tears.

While she cried, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji exchanged a long look, silently wondering what to do next. 

"I'll get Nie-xiong, and he'll get Zewu-Jun while I keep an eye on the children," Wei Wuxian offered. "It's probably better if they're kept away from this, and I don't think I have much more insight to offer on this matter, eh?" 

It seemed the safest plan. They couldn't both leave, in case Jin Guangyao came back and tried to destroy the evidence. It would also have been unwise for Wei Wuxian to stay behind, since Qin Su might have decided to destroy evidence to protect her husband, and Wei Wuxian's new body wouldn't have had the strength to oppose her. 

Still, Lan Wangji remained restless until, after a long while, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen entered the secret room along with Jin Guangyao and some other high ranking Jin cultivators. 

Jin Guangyao took one look at his still kneeling wife whose eyes were throwing daggers, at Lan Wangji holding the head of Nie Mingjue, at the impassive Ghost General. He grabbed Lan Xichen's sleeve, and let his expression turn to one of deep anguish. 

"Er-ge, I swear I can explain." 

-

Jin Guangyao did explain, and most of his story roughly coincided with what Lan Wangji, Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian had discovered while investigating the murder. When he claimed that his father had forced him to conduct the murder, Lan Wangji felt unsurprised, and he suspected that the Jin elders present were nowhere near as shocked as they pretended to be.

"Father would have thrown me out of the sect," Jin Guangyao explained with tears in his eyes, still turning again and again toward Lan Xichen, clearly aiming to get his sworn brother to protect him. "I was stuck between my father's threats and Da-ge's refusal to make any compromise… Er-ge, you know how hard I tried to act as a bridge between them, but something had to give. With a choice like this, what man would I have been if I didn't side with my own father?"

"A righteous one," Lan Xichen replied. "You really never understood Da-ge at all if you think he wouldn't have helped you, had you told him your father's orders. You wouldn't have been a Jin anymore, but you would have been a good man, a good friend." 

Sensing that no help would come from there, Jin Guangyao thought to appeal to Nie Huaisang instead. 

Since stepping into that secret chamber, Nie Huaisang had stayed close to Lan Xichen, leaning against his side while his lover had an arm wrapped around his back to support him. Whether it was his usual act or true vulnerability and exhaustion, Lan Wangji could not have said. Either way, it changed the instant he felt Jin Guangyao’s eyes on him. Immediately Nie Huaisang's spine became straighter. He stepped away from Lan Xichen to stand on his own and glared down at the man who had taken so much from him, silently challenging him to dare appeal to his mercy. Radiating such immense rage, Nie Huaisang looked more like his brother than he ever had before. 

Jin Guangyao quickly cast down his eyes, stunned for a second into silence by the man he had always treated with benevolent condescension. Realising that his former friends were resolutely against him, Jin Guangyao changed strategy and turned his attention to the Jin elders. 

It was likely that some of them had a dirty conscience, and that Jin Guangyao knew some of their secrets. There could be no other reason why they were so willing to let him shift the blame on Jin Guangshan, no longer here to defend himself, and on Xue Yang, who he boldly accused of coming up with that plan. 

"We can ask him about that," Nie Huaisang interrupted with a sharp smile he quickly hid behind a fan. "We have Xue Yang, alive and well."

The news startled not only Jin Guangyao, but also some of the other elders present. To Lan Wangji, it confirmed that their Chief Cultivator and his father probably had accomplices, even if those men might not have been privy to all their plans. 

"Huaisang, what did Xue Chengmei tell you exactly?" Jin Guangyao asked with a sympathetic smile. "You realise he is not a very trustworthy source, don't you? What happened, this situation… It's really more complicated than you realise."

Nie Huaisang shrugged behind his fan, and looked around the chamber, taking in all of his former friend's secrets. 

"I actually think it's a very simple situation," he said. "And I'm going to offer a very simple solution." He turned to the Jin elders and lowered his fan. "I want Jin Guangyao's head within the week, or it's war. I also want all the contents of this chamber as blood price for my brother’s murder, including the Ghost General and other possessions of Wei Wuxian."

Jin Guangyao paled at the demand, while the Jin elders started whispering urgently between themselves. 

"Huaisang, you can't mean that," Jin Guangyao pleaded in a weak voice. "Please, I'll go into exile, I'll…" 

Ignoring him, Nie Huaisang crossed the distance to Lan Wangji and silently took back his brother's head. His hands were shaking badly as he did so, but his face remained perfectly impassive while he cradled the severed head in his arms. 

"Count yourself lucky I'm only asking for your head, San-ge," Nie Huaisang lightly said, his eyes on his brother's head as he gently tucked some stray hair behind its ear. "I could demand a lot more, I'd have law and tradition on my side. You have a wife and a son, you had accomplices… But they all get to live, as long as you die. As for the other price I ask for, I think it is a light one."

"Sect Leader Nie, we don't even know what's in this chamber," one Jin elder mildly protested. "To ask for its contents is…" 

"It is not my problem if you people have been kept in the dark by your sect leaders," Nie Huaisang snapped, holding the head tighter against his chest. "Again, consider the alternative. And consider also that if you do not let me have this, Sandu Shengshou will hear about the contents of this room. Do you wish to deal with him rather than me?”

Although Yunmeng Jiang was still not back to its full power, the reputation of it sect leader was such that a few of the elders immediately appeared to make their decision. The contents of this secret chamber were worth a fortune to be sure, even more so than they all realised since Nie Huaisang would have access to Wei Wuxian himself to make sense of it all if he deemed it necessary… but nothing could be worth making an enemy out of Jiang Cheng. Even for Nie Huaisang it was a risk, but he’d proven before that he knew how to placate his old friend.

That, or he intended to destroy the whole lot anyway, save for whatever Wei Wuxian might ask to have back, because it was to protect their own demonic cultivator that Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao had killed his brother.

Even after all this time, Lan Wangji still couldn’t figure out what his husband thought sometimes.

Jin Guangyao, feeling the wind turning decisively against him, turned once more to Lan Xichen and fell to his knees before his sworn brother.

“Er-ge, please, have mercy. The crimes that have been committed were not all my own doing, and I was never more than the sword others held. Will I really be the only one to pay for what happened? Those who profited from it, those who closed their eyes, will they really go unpunished, simply because I am the easier target for your hatred? I know I have hurt others, Er-ge, but I have always done everything I could to help you! I saved your life once, will you truly not return the favour?”

Seeing him pleading in such a pathetic manner, Lan Xichen appeared to be moved. He looked at Nie Huaisang, as if ready to suggest that a more lenient sentence might be offered, but kept silent when their eyes met. 

He could have asked anything of Nie Huaisang and his lover would have tried to give it to him… anything, but not this. Nie Huaisang, engulfed once more in his righteous fury, would have broken up without hesitation with the lover he had so patiently waited for, rather than to give up on seeing his brother’s murdered dead.

“You gave up the right to ask for favours when you made me an accomplice of your crimes,” Lan Xichen told Jin Guangyao with a sigh, “and when those crimes took the life of a man I thought we both loved as a brother. It is Sect Leader Nie’s right to decide how he wants justice to be conducted in this matter. Appeal to him for mercy, if you dare.”

Hesitantly, his shoulders hunched, Jin Guangyao turned his head to glance at Nie Huaisang, still cradling the head of his brother. Jin Guangyao had a thick face and could argue black into white, but under that rageful glare he could only hang his head in defeat. 

"Then let it be so," he sighed. "If I must die by any hand, let it be yours." 

-

Although the Jin argued and begged, in the end they agreed to the guilt of their sect leader, and bent to the demands of Nie Huaisang. It helped, probably, that Nie Huaisang had sent an urgent message to Qinghe so his brother's sabre would be brought to him. Baxia arrived only the day after, and with it in hand, Nie Huaisang personally guarded the cell in which Jin Guangyao was kept. He did not want the murderer to be set free, he explained, and he did not trust anyone in Lanling Jin. 

The only visitor Jin Guangyao had during that time was his own wife. What they said to each other was never revealed, but Qin Su was visibly upset when she returned from that visit, and immediately announced that she was returning to her father's sect with her son. She declined to wait until it was decided whether her husband would live or die. 

"He has done what he has done," she stated. "I no longer care for his fate. My parents were right to be against this union, and I only wish I had listened to my mother." 

This rejection from a previously devoted wife had pushed a few more elders in the camp in favour of execution, though not as much as the testimony of Nie Mingjue himself. 

It took days of constant effort for Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian to repair the damages done to Nie Mingjue’s body and soul. Wei Wuxian had not even been sure it would be possible, and noted that if Nie Mingjue had been left in that horrific state a few years longer, nothing could have been done for him. 

His soul stabilised, Nie Mingjue's spirit was made to explain what had happened to him. The living might have lied, but the dead were known to be truthful, and this sealed the case. 

Jin Guangyao would die. 

The manner of his death brought new questions and he was brought into the council room while the matter was discussed. The Jins were loath to handle it themselves, since it could have passed as an act of rebellion against their sect leader.

Jin Guangyao, in a shocking move, requested that his execution be handled by Lan Xichen, stating there was no one else he trusted so much with making his end a quick and painless one. Lan Wangji almost offered to do it himself instead, to spare his brother from this torture. Before he could say anything on that matter, Nie Huaisang started laughing, bringing everyone's attention to himself. 

"I asked for his head, and I'll get it myself," he announced, carelessly petting Baxia's handle, which he still hadn't let go of since it was brought to him. "It is my duty as the leader of Qinghe Nie. And that way, you still get to be killed by a friend, San-ge. Isn't that a nice compromise?" 

Jin Guangyao paled, but gave up on trying to negotiate for himself. 

He died the next day, at Nie Huaisang's hand. 

In public, Nie Huaisang showed no more emotion than if he had beheaded a chicken. In private, with his husband and his lover, he broke into tears. Whatever else had come to pass between them, Jin Guangyao had once been one of his favourite friends. Even Wei Wuxian, who until then had clung to a certain resentment on behalf of Mo Xuanyu, could only pity his old friend. 

With this problem over, the four of them were asked to leave Carp Tower at their earliest convenience so the Jin could decide who would take over their sect until Jin Rulan came of age. They were only too happy to comply. Nie Huaisang, escorted by some of his disciples who had rushed there, headed back to the Unclean Realm with a cart heavy from the contents of that secret chamber. Hidden from view, Wen Ning was going there as well. Although Wei Wuxian had managed to undo the harm caused upon him by Xue Yang, he'd been forced to admit that Nie Huaisang had a better chance than him to keep Wen Ning safe for the time being. The Unclean Realm was a fortress against which even Jiang Cheng's rage would be powerless.

"We will visit him," Lan Wangji promised as they watched the Nies leave. "He is family." 

"Well, yeah, he's A-Yuan's cousin," Wei Wuxian replied. "Are you fine with him reconnecting with his Wen origins, though ?" 

Lan Wangji wasn't comfortable with it, but this wasn't about him. Wei Wuxian had once cared for Wen Ning's people so much that he had given up on everything else. As for A-Yuan, he deserved to have as full a family as possible. Already, it was going to be difficult for him to learn that the new friends he had only just made would probably never get to play with him again, since the relationship between their sects promised be tense in the future. Hopefully, getting a new cousin would mitigate that somewhat.

“He is family,” Lan Wangji repeated, a little more firmly.

It had to have been the right thing to say. Wei Wuxian smiled at him as if Lan Wangji had offered him the moon, rather than just accepted a very reasonable request regarding their son.

-

It was good to be back in the Cloud Recesses. A-Yuan, who for safety had been sent back there right after Jin Guangyao had been exposed, was beyond happy to have his family back with him, though he expressed disappointment that Nie Huaisang had returned directly to Qinghe.

“I know Nie-ge has his sect and he’s so busy, but it was nice when everyone was here together,” he sighed.

“We’ll be together again,” Lan Wangji promised.

It would be easier in the future, without the threat of Jin Guangyao forcing them to be careful. Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be so scared about letting them visit, and they would be able to stay longer in the Unclean Realm. Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian would want to help Nie Huaisang and A-Yuan with their vegetable patch, if he’d offer advice and kneel down in the dirt with them while Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen stood to the side and watched the men they loved having fun in the sun. Just the thought of it made his heart go soft.

Those happy moments would have to wait. For now, there was still some distasteful business to take care of. While Wei Wuxian went to the Jingshi with A-Yuan, Lan Wangji and his brother had a meeting with their uncle and the Lan elders to give a detailed account of what had happened in Carp Tower. Most of the elders were shocked at hearing of Jin Guangyao’s crimes, and even more so when told that Nie Huaisang had demanded his death and acted as executioner, going against the image they had of him. They were also very unhappy to hear the fate that Nie Huaisang and the Lan brothers had settled on for Xue Yang.

“Just cutting his dominant hand and sending him in exile, isn’t that too risky?” one of them objected. “That boy is a demon, what if he decides to take revenge on us? After what he did to the Yueyang Chan sect…”

“We are rather stronger than they were,” Lan Xichen noted calmly. “And these actions of his were undertaken with a copy of the Tiger Seal which he no longer owns, under the protection of Lanling Jin which he has lost. I will not say he is not dangerous, and I cannot say either that I am fully happy with setting him free when he caused so much damage. But he was promised mercy for his help, and keeping him imprisoned is not a long term solution. Someone like him would find a way to escape sooner or later.”

It caused a long debate, with some of the elders wondering if they really should consider themselves bound by that promise to a murderer. Lan Xichen held strong, though Lan Wangji knew he probably wanted to see Xue Yang dead more than the rest of them, since it was his actions and the need to protect him that had pushed Jin Guangshan into ordering the death of Nie Mingjue. Still, a deal was a deal, and Gusu Lan had always kept to its word. Lan Qiren supported his nephew, and so the sect leader’s decision had to be accepted.

After that unpleasant council, Lan Wangji decided to head for the kitchen. Wei Wuxian and him had agreed that it would be nice to have dinner in the Jingshi with A-Yuan so they could enjoy a little quiet after their difficult time in Carp Tower. To make this more pleasant, Lan Wangji set out to prepare some dishes that would be more to Wei Wuxian’s taste. He’d found out in recent times that he enjoyed cooking, not simply because it made Wei Wuxian happy, but because it was relaxing and gave him time to think.

And he certainly needed to think. It had always been clear to him that Wei Wuxian was there only until the situation with Jin Guangyao was resolved. Since it was now done, Lan Wangji had no idea what the future held for him, A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian. He had fantasies of a perfect life with his son and the man he loved, yet wasn't foolish enough to think that would come true. So far Wei Wuxian hadn’t said a word that might hint he would leave with A-Yuan and never return, but Lan Wangji doubted he would be comfortable staying in the Cloud Recesses. After all, he had always made it very clear he did not like the place, even if he had been less vocal about it in this new life. So, they would have to discuss his future plans, perhaps not that very night, but soon.

Once their meal was ready, Lan Wangji returned to the Jingshi. There he found the man he loved playing with their son, the two of them laughing together. The future was uncertain, but it probably wouldn’t be bad.

It was a very pleasant evening. Dinner was good, and they chatted a long while after, until it was time for A-Yuan to go to sleep. Wei Wuxian was the one to read a story with him that night, while Lan Wangji cleaned and tidied the table. Without really talking about it, the two adults then went to sit on the porch to enjoy the cool air and the starry sky. After such animation in recent times, it was pleasant to have a little quiet. Even Wei Wuxian seemed a little more subdued than usual and kept silent for a while.

He still was the one to speak first, of course.

“Lan Zhan, tonight… did you cook all that?” he asked.

“Some of it. Wei Ying doesn’t like Gusu Lan food.”

Wei Wuxian smiled with a small sigh, looking up at the moon.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… you’re really something else.”

This could, and perhaps should, have been the end of that conversation, but Wei Wuxian appeared to be in a chatty mood after all.

“You know, I’ve had a few talks with Nie-xiong lately,” he announced. “And he had the guts to scold me for some things. He seemed to think it particularly important that I tell you that, about my past life… there’s a lot I don’t remember very well. I’ve never been one to remember things that don’t matter to me, but concerning the time after I went to live in the Burial Mounds… there’s really a lot I’ve forgotten. And anything that happened after shijie died? That’s a complete blank.”

“Complete?” Lan Wangji repeated.

Wei Wuxian nodded with a small grimace, and laughed.

“I don’t even know how I made it out of Nightless City that time,” he claimed, nervously brushing his finger on his nose. “Using the Tiger Seal really took a lot out of me, so by all accounts I should have just fallen to the ground and been captured by whoever was still standing… but I guess I must have had some strength left, if I made it back to Yiling. Still, that was… Lan Zhan, are you unwell?”

Not trusting his voice, Lan Wangji only nodded as relief overcame him. If Wei Wuxian didn’t remember anything that had happened after Nightless City, then things could remain good between them. Without his unwanted confession, they could continue being friends. It explained also why Wei Wuxian was so comfortable around him, having no idea that Lan Wangji was foolish enough to want more than his friend was willing to give.

For a moment Wei Wuxian frowned, appearing almost concerned. He then looked away and laughed lightly.

“Lan Zhan, so it was really bothering you that my memory is this bad, eh? I see why Nie xiong was so insistent that I tell you. And, you know, it’s not the only thing we chatted about.”

“What else?” Lan Wangji asked, feeling at peace in a way he hadn’t been in too long.

“Well, the other thing is your fault,” Wei Wuxian explained. “Remember that day when we saw Nie-xiong and Zewu-Jun kiss?” he rolled his eyes, as if still upset by that perceived betrayal, no matter how welcome it had been for Lan Wangji. “And after, you said it was fine because Nie-xiong and you had already discussed this, and that you both knew you were in love with other people when you married.”

That precious sense of peace evaporated in an instant, leaving only dread. Wei Wuxian, who wasn’t looking at Lan Wangji, didn’t notice the way he tensed and continued on.

“Since you didn’t want to tell me who it was, I had to ask Nie-xiong. I’m a curious person, and I really wanted to know who could have captured the heart of the mighty Hanguang-Jun, ahah! But Nie-xiong… well, you know him. He won’t say things plainly if he can make a mystery of it. He thinks it makes him cool or something. So he told me that yes there’s a person, and yes he knows who it is, but he wouldn’t tell me their name.”

Lan Wangji breathed again. He might buy his husband a new fan to thank him for keeping that secret, or offer to take over his brother’s duty a little bit so Lan Xichen could go visit the Unclean Realm for a month or two.

“He did give me some hints though,” Wei Wuxian added.

Lan Wangji pinched his lips, and retracted the good deeds he’d just wanted to do for Nie Huaisang.

“Nie-xiong said that you are very devoted to this person, and you trust them more than anyone else does, but you’ve also had some big arguments with them in the past because you couldn’t understand some of their choices. Which I thought was funny, because Lan Zhan isn’t the sort to have fights. If someone annoys you, you’re more likely to just ignore them, right? Aside from me, I’ve never seen you get really angry at anyone… but I’m good at pissing off people, so I figured that’s different. Then Nie-xiong told me that even if you act so cool and distant, you’re really just a big sap!”

Lan Wangji huffed quietly. Nie Huaisang was going to pay for this.

“So Nie-xiong said that it’d be easy to guess who you loved, because you are always spoiling that person, buying them anything they want, letting them break any rule that pleases them when they're in the Cloud Recesses. He said also that you’re always looking at them if they’re nearby, and always ready to protect them even if they’re in the wrong. And I thought… really, that’s funny. It sounds almost like the way you act with me!”

Lan Wangji tensed even further when Wei Wuxian finally turned to look at him again, his cheeks flushed and his gaze intense.

“Lan Zhan… is it really like that?”

“I have no expectations,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t quite a reply. “I am honoured to have Wei Ying’s friendship.”

Wei Wuxian gasped, his cheeks turning even more red.

“Lan Zhan, really? But you’re… You’ve always been so annoyed by me! You’ve punished me so many times, and we’ve gotten into so many arguments and… haven’t I gotten you in trouble a few times in the past? Lan Zhan, you really have awful tastes!”

“My taste is excellent.”

At that remark, Wei Wuxian gasped again and had to turn away.

“Lan Zhan, you really are a sap! I can’t believe it, I never would have suspected! Well, I know now. I’ll have to tease you about that!”

“Wei Ying always teases,” Lan Wangji calmly retorted.

Wei Wuxian laughed at this, so loud that it echoed in the silence of the Cloud Recesses. He did not seem upset, or distressed, or even less angry about the situation, just amused to have found out a new side of Lan Wangji that he hadn’t previously known. After how much anguish he had felt over his unrequited feelings, Lan Wangji could only be grateful that Wei Wuxian was taking it so well this time around.

After he was done laughing, Wei Wuxian stayed quiet for a little bit. Lan Wangji was starting to wonder if the matter was going to be dropped when the other man spoke again.

“Lan Zhan, I don’t really know what to do with all this,” Wei Wuxian admitted. “It’s all been a little complicated lately after all, I'm still getting used to being alive again. But I know I like spending time with you. I like that I get to chat with you and poke fun at you. I like how well we work together. I like that I can trust you, and that you trust me too. In short, Lan Zhan, I like you a lot, and the idea of having you in my life… that really makes me so happy. I don’t know if that’s love, but if you’re okay with giving me time to think about it, then I’ll think about it a lot until I figure it out.”

“Wei Ying can take the time he needs,” Lan Wangji earnestly replied. “No matter the conclusion, Wei Ying is my friend.”

Wei Wuxian blushed harder, and slapped his shoulder.

“Lan Zhan, you’re really too much of a sap!” he pouted. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to keep that hidden from everyone. The great Hanguang-Jun looks so cold, but he’s really the warmest and softest person in the world! I’d tell everyone, but they wouldn’t believe me!”

Lan Wangji could only smile, relieved that he hadn’t ruined their friendship by feeling too much, amused also by how flustered Wei Wuxian was when he’d always acted like such a shameless flirt in the past. Seeing his smile, Wei Wuxian pretended to be shocked by this new display of emotion and started blabbering on, before quickly laughing at his own jokes as he too often did.

What a ridiculous man he was, and Lan Wangji loved him all the more for it.

[nie-smh-my-head-huaisang]

Okay so restaurant AU

Lan Zhan is actually part of a restaurant family. The Cloud Recesses went through a bit of a dark period until Lan Zhan and Lan Huan brought it back to it's former glory. You see, Papa used to be head chef, and then he got married, and then shit happened, and Lan Qiren is left in charge, and he's diligent but his heart is not in the food biz.

Over in Qinghe there's the Unclean Realm with the scariest chef you ever did meet and his protoje that just wants to do art. Nie Mingjue runs a very sexy food truck and it gets very sweaty and Nie Huaisang is not about it at all. The fam has a history of high blood pressure and anger issues and Nie Huaisang is like "I don't need the stress of a busy kitchen shortening my life by 50 years."

Koi Tower is a big franchise chain and none of the fam actually know how to cook. Jin Zixuan is out doing restaurant recon and he ends up in Lotus Pier and eats some soup that changes his life. Then he meets the Chef Jiang Yanli and he's like "hey can my family hire you to revise everything about our chain's food?" And She's like "No 💝💗✨" so he decides to marry into the family so he can eat this soup every day. After papa whore dies, it's up in the air about who will take over, JZX doesn't want it, he has soup from his wife to eat, and since the Jiang fam has enough stress, they don't want to franchise out, so it's not like they can just change everything into a Lotus Pier. So JXZ makes a call out post to find all of his siblings and whoever is the least of a disaster can help run this bullshit. Mo Xuanyu's baby, so no CEO roll for him. Qin Su said nah. Meng Yao? He's got restaurant experience, and he's a good smart boy. And that's only out of the ones he can find. So now Meng Yao has money and power. But also he has a big family of half siblings and nothing bad ever happens to any of them.

There used to be another big chain of restaurants, Nightless City Buffet, but Wen Rohan just fucking beefed it and now they have nothing. Wen Zu and Wen Chao are sent to prison for ten thousand years for embezzlement.

Wen Ning is a good little chef boy that's trying his best but the Wen name doesn't inspire confidence in people looking for a chef. He does set up at local farmers markets and he's a hit with the little grannies. He works with Granny, Fourth Uncle, and Wen Yuan is there too. Miss Wen Qing is a doctor and she's very glad she doesn't have to deal with the fallout from the restaurant business.

And then Lotus Pier again, now with a hot lore dump. it's been run by the Jiang Family for generations, Jiang Fengmian worked there back in the day with his BFF Wei Changze and the lady they're both pining for Cangse Sanren. But Wei Changze, despite not talking a whole lot, manages to woo Cangse Sanren and they run away together. They keep in touch, Fengmian meets Yu Ziyuan, they're like. Dating? They like. End up married because it's mutually beneficial to them. They have a kid, they love her but their feelings for each other? Ehhh. Then there's an accident and Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren are dead and their kid is lost in the foster system. Jiang Fengmian spends more time looking for him than he does with his freshly born son. Yu Ziyuan decides that Fengmian sucks and his buds that just died suck extra for just leaving a whole ass child. And this child sucks because Jiang Fengmian can spend five minutes with his baby son between looking for this kid they've never met. Yu Ziyuan ends up taking over restaurant duties because Jiang Fengmian is clearly too busy. Straight people am I right.

Anyway, sucks to be in that environment but food good.

Wei Ying spends most of his time and money getting food from Wen Ning on Sundays, bonding with their little family, and then. Idk, Auntie Yu's gonna kick him out eventually, so now Wei Ying is helping out on the little Wen Farm and he's a surprisingly good salesman, and they start getting a lot of business, because of pretty boy WWX and everyone wanting to see that twink obliterated.

And Lan Zhan keeps going to Lotus Pier and is sad because his favorite server is off every time he shows up and Jiang Cheng is like "you're so fucking stupid, tell him he's pretty and ask for his phone number like a normal person" and Lan Zhan is like "No." And Jiang Cheng is like "he doesn't even work here anymore asshole, you're burning your white boy spice tolerance tongue like a jackass for no reason." And Lan Zhan is like "where is he now?" And he's like "I don't know, go to the local farmers market on Sunday and ask him what he does with his free time yourself." And Lan Zhan is like ":|" and he pays and tips very well.

[ghafahey]

find a way ; make it right ; build us a better life. 

At Qiongqi Path, Lan Wangji makes a choice.

                                            __________________

A ripple goes through the cultivation world.

Words are shouted up and down Koi Tower. Voices tremble over words, gasping and full of red shades of rage.

Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian, the people spit his name like venom from their mouths.

Jiang Yanli knows they are wrong, they must be. A-Xian would never-

How cruel, how ungrateful, how dare he, Sect Leader Yao and Sect Leader Ouyang and Jin Zixun roar and turn their eyes to everyone else, trying to incite the same hatred.

Some nod, some join into the chorus of insults. Only a few avert their gaze, unsure and wondering and recalling moments they brushed aside until now.

Oh, brother what have you done, Lan Xichen thinks.

                                             __________________

Rain pours down, biting-cold and glistening like small drops of diamonds.

“Is this the promise that we pledged our lives to keep?” Wei Wuxian cries into the storm with such force, Lan Wangji feels it like a shove to his chest. He does not stagger but clutches tighter at the umbrella, at Bichen, at the feelings swirling in his chest.

Far away at the entrance to Cloud Recesses, on a wall and carved into stone in perfect calligraphy, withstanding all time, three thousand rules are displayed. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember seeing them for the first time when he was still a child with little knowledge of the world. But he remembers learning them all, repeating them out loud and in his thoughts, writing them down until his fingers hurt and shufu deemed them perfect. Over and over like the endless dance of night and day, until he knew every single one and their number. They are a reminder as much as a grounding force, a guidance as much as a cage.

Do not fight without permission. Do not wander out at night. Do not run. Do not make noise. Do not be wasteful. Do not speak ill of others. Do not act impulsively.

They are as much a part of him as his arms and legs, laced into his very bones and a consistent, insistent whisper of what is right and wrong.

But what is, Wei Ying had asked. And who says so?

Lan Wangji used to hold the answer, all the answers, he thought. Now, his hands cold from rain or fear, he is not so sure.

Eighteen years and three thousand rules and all of it undone so quickly, so thoroughly, by one person alone.

Rule 2311. Do not break promises, his mind whispers now, tugging at the memory the nighttime questions have conjured.

Then what promise am I to uphold? He wants to yell at the sky. What promise am I meant to break? The one I was born into, molded into from the day I opened my eyes by hands that dealt out more punishments than tenderness? Or the one I made, a young fool not quite aware yet of all the terrors of this world, with someone by my side who insistently clawed his way inside my heart?

In front of him, separated by a curtain of rain and unaware of his inner turmoil, Wei Wuxian raises his hand, his arm outstretched and holding out Chenqing like an offering, like a barrier, like a question.

“Lan Zhan, if I have to fight with them finally, I’d prefer to fight with you.”

Stop, Lan Wangji wants to say but the word is stuck at the back of his throat.

“If I am doomed to death,” and here Wei Wuxian smiles, sadly but visible in the corners of his mouth, as if his death is such a trivial thing. “At least, I could be killed by you. That would be worth it.”

What a ridiculous thing to say within the midst of the storm. What a ridiculous thing to ask of the one you consider your soul’s mate.

There is a breath stuck in Lan Wangji’s chest, lodged beneath his ribcage, raging to be let out and make the choice expected of him. Step aside, let them pass. Or better yet, for the good of all the sects and their leaders, raise the sword and strike.

Eradicate evil, set up laws and then goodness will be everlasting.

Yet beneath the stream of rain Lan Wangji is nothing but a leaf tossed to the wind, free of rules and expectations and guilt.

There is a path, splendorous and bright and there for the taking, ripe with glory, filled with a future he thought he wanted. But maybe, after all, it was the expectations of others that made him think so. And then there is the darker route, the one that speaks of exertion and an endless climb, the one people will curse him for and frown and spit at; the one that he would not have to walk in lifelong solitude, the road one unafraid person will lead him on.

What an impossible choice to make at such an age, in such a moment with thunder roaring and rain pouring down and eyes on him that beg for something he cannot give.

The breath inside his chest releases, dead and trampled.

“You said, you took me as your soulmate in this life, the one who understands you,” Lan Wangji says, barely audible above the storm. But something, as lightning flashes, lights up in Wei Wuxian’s eyes too, understanding dawning. It is only because Lan Wangji’s gaze is so fixed on him that he sees his lips tremble.

I still do.

Lan Wangji takes a step, then another, slow and deliberate and calculated. One of the horses huffs, soothed by the hum of one Wen Clan survivor. Lan Wangji remembers their faces distantly, some of them at least, from Dafan mountain. He will have time to learn them anew now.

Wei Wuxian lowers his arm, the hand clenched around Chenqing trembling, his eyes wide as moons.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers – or maybe he doesn’t say anything at all.

Lan Wangji swallows and stares up at him and tries to put all of the sincerity he holds within the cage of his body into his words. “I still am.”

Lightning crackles, illuminating for just a second, the surprise on Wei Wuxian’s features, carved into them like rules into stone. His throat works against a reply that never comes. There is no need for one.

There is no order without rules, Lan Qiren had said.

Eradicate evil, set up laws and then goodness will be everlasting, he had made Lan Wangji read and memorize and write and repeat.

What is the 52nd rule of the Lan Clan? he had asked again and again.

Do not associate with evil, Lan Wangji had replied dutifully every time.

But within the darkness of night, beneath showers of rain, he sees no evil. Only a man trying to save the innocent, only a promise that ties them together and an understanding that binds their souls to one another irrevocably.

The umbrella meets the ground with a thud, dull and swallowed by another crack of the sky. With a lift of his feet, more elegantly than should be possible with the shock of ice-cold rain soaking his clothes and skin and hair, Lan Wangji sits upon the horse behind Wei Wuxian.

It protests with a huff, lifting his forelegs slightly and shakes as if it wants to throw them both off. A gentle hand soothes through its dark mane, breathing a whisper to make it settle down again. Like this, it barely fits them both, pressed so closely together they can feel each other’s body heat, the wetness of the other’s clothes. The rim of Wei Wuxian’s hat brushes Lan Wangji’s hairline as he twists around as much as the limited space allows, his eyes flitting over Lan Wangji’s face as if to memorize each pore.

“Lan Zhan…. Lan Zhan, no. They despise me already but you—... your Clan, your uncle, your reputation…”

He keeps uttering words without sense as if he wants Lan Wangji to change his mind, turn around and leave or take the offer of a fight and end it all right here in the wet dirt of this earth. Words that prick at Lan Wangji’s heart with guilt – although he knows it would be tenfold if he turned around now to lead the easy life that is waiting for him just beyond this path, just beyond the crossroad intersecting their lives.

So, he reaches out to where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests on the horse’s mane and lets his fingers slip in between the spaces.

“Wei Ying,” Wei Wuxian tenses, at the touch or the sound of his name, brushed right below his ear but he does not turn away.

“We made a promise,” Lan Wangji says, so easily as if this is all the explanation anyone would need. “And you promised you would let me help you. So, let us fulfill them side by side.”

                                            __________________

The umbrella is what they bring back to Koi Tower, wet with rain and caked with mud and half-broken.

Wei Wuxian, how cruel, killing all those innocent people!

Wei Wuxian, traitor of the Jiang Clan! How low he must stoop to rescue the people that killed Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan! How little respect he must have for Clan Leader Jiang!

Wei Wuxian, how dare he! Choosing the crooked path and running from the law and kidnapping Hanguang-Jun, who only tried to do right and stop him!

An act of rebellion, an act of war!

Voices rise across Koi Tower, spreading farther to cities and towns and villages, words laced with the slow poison of tarnishing a reputation already crumbling.

Lan Qiren collapses in his chair, blood dripping from his nose.

Jin Guangshan huffs and adds a few well-placed words, oil to an already simmering fire.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth and balls his hands into fists until his knuckles crack.

Lan Xichen meets Jiang Yanli’s eyes and sees the same prayer written in them, the plea to some deity above to protect a younger brother on his path.

Jin Guangyao offers calming words and expressions of concern, then smiles into his sleeve.

Leagues away, the Burial Mounds bloom into a home.

[kat8porgs]

first and last

okay, so, nontraditional soulmate markings - 

I’ve always felt like if you’re going to HAVE soulmate marks, you need a reason for them to be there. So this is not the first (or last) soulmate AU where I have some sort of specialty tattooist. I also kind of like the idea of soulmate marks changing but this doesn’t happen in this verse (another soulmate verse with WWX/LWJ though, I was debating writing one where Lan Zhan’s soulmate symbol/words change after WWX is brought back to life).

ANYWAY, this one is still fucking tragic, because Meng Yao takes one look at Lan Xichen goes ‘oh shit’ and then backpedals immediately. 

He was not surprised to find Wangji waiting for him in his rooms. In fact, he would not have been surprised if his younger brother had intercepted him on his way to his rooms.

“Wangji.” He sighed even as a small smile twitched his lips. “Did you need something?”

He read epics in the twitch of his brother’s eyebrows. “I would like to see.”

The wound is still too fresh to expose, not even he has seen the words now indelibly inked into his skin. With a soft smile, he shook his head. “Not tonight.”

A stubborn, mutinous narrowing of eyes surprised a tired laugh out of him. “I have not even read them, Wangji,” the only person in the whole world who knew what his words were was the matchmaker who had put them there, “later.”

Well, the matchmaker and no doubt his uncle, he was sure she would have reported to him. It was probable the elders had been informed as well. After all, the whole point of him going under a matchmaker’s needle when he was so young was the hope that they would be able to find his soulmate when they were still malleable. After the debacle of his father’s marriage (to a woman who was not his perfect match, though his father wore her words on his skin) and the fact that his uncle had no soulmate to match with and their fear over Wen Ruohan’s machinations…

He understood why he had been sent to meet with the matchmaker years before his first night hunt, the traditional time for his soulmate search to also begin. Still, he did not appreciate the fact that the number of people who would be informed of his words before he was.

“Later.” His little brother said, stubborn as always, and he nodded. Later. He would be sure that Wangji would be the first person he showed, even if he was not the first person to be told.

3 days later, the traditional period of waiting, he stripped off the bandage to see underneath. His skin was still irritated, still reddened and slightly puffy around the dark ink.  The words were drawn from his shoulder to his elbow and he must read them upside down or backwards in a mirror.

‘Will you die with me?’

He shivered.

The matchmaker had said she thought they were last words, which had briefly lifted his spirits. As a way to determine his soulmate last words would do very little, after all, his soulmate would not speak them until just before death. And yet… they could be first words too, couldn’t they? The matchmaker had not been sure. Perhaps she had only guessed because of the context of the words.

What if they were both?

He carefully placed a new bandage over his still healing arm.

What if they were both? What if he met his soulmate on a night hunt? They could be a victim or a fellow cultivator, they could be wounded. He could meet them only for them to die. Were the words said in jest, as his soulmate lay on their deathbed years, years in the future? A smile on their face and a hand on his cheek?

He breathed.

He could do little about it. Perhaps. Perhaps they were first words, from a smiling eyed cultivator in an attempt to get under his skin. Perhaps even though they met in battle, they would rise triumphant. Or maybe they were said in worry, fear, but even at the end, he and his soulmate would be together.

There was no use thinking about it now, if they were last words, his soulmate would have their first ones. That brought a smile to his face, his soulmate, he thought, would have to be the one to take the first step.

--

Everyone knew that cultivators would search for their soulmates. They visited diviners and matchmakers to discover a hint of their soulmates name or, if they were lucky, if their cultivation was high enough, if they paid well enough, they might even be gifted with the first words their soulmate would say to them. Meng Yao had heard rumors they could also find out the last words their soulmate said to them, which seemed more like a curse than a gift to him.

After all what good would it do to discover your soulmate was there only for them to leave?

Meng Yao’s mother had always said she would send him to a matchmaker, when they had the money, or she had talked about how his father would be sure to help him find his soulmate. (She never claimed that he was hers, or she was his, and that is the one thing he can be grateful for.) But it is not until Nie Mingjue makes him vice-general that Meng Yao visits a matchmaker.

“You’ll see,” Nie Huisang said, one hand clutched in Meng Yao’s sleeve, “it’s exciting! Do you think you’ve already met them? Then they’ll be able to find out a name.”

“I don’t know,” he had curled his fingers over the other young man’s and then uncurled Nie Huisang’s grip on him, “I have met so many people, young master.”

He smiled, tenderly, falsely, and let Nie Huisang smile back.

Who would… who could his soulmate be? None of his fellow disciples, he thought, none of them had the backbone he needed. Not Nie Huisang who was too tender, too frivolous, too fragile.

Nie Mingjue?

…perhaps, he thought, as he entered the artificially darkened room and seated himself behind a low table.

Hours later, head and forearm aching, he met Nie Huisang outside of the matchmaker’s establishment.

“So?” The young cultivator flicked his fan out and fluttered it in an attempt to hide, or dampen, his flush. “Was it words or a name?”

“The matchmaker said they were first words,” it took all of his willpower not to curl his hand around his wrist, “though I cannot look at them yet.” He cautioned the other young man.

Three days later he carefully washed his wrist with a frown.

At least he knew he was in the right spot, though why his soulmate would feel the need to comment on him being Nie Mingjue’s aid…

Delicate black words flowed up and down his wrist, a long, very long greeting. Did his soulmate speak such flowery sentiments all the time? Meng Yao hoped not. Perhaps his soulmate hid behind his words, like Meng Yao did, and had used this long greeting in an attempt to distract him.

Delicately, Meng Yao traced over the still healing tattoo and wondered.

Was his soulmate marked with his reply?