#mdzs plunny hell

[myakkoh]

silent serenade - Chapter 3

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Lan Qiren doesn’t quite remember when he decided to take Nie Qiuheng’s children with him to the tiny garden his dead lover tried to grow.

Nie Qiuheng was so gentle with handling the gentians and the orchids, his battle-hardened face softening ever so slightly, and Lan Qiren swallows from the memory. A bittersweet memory.

It is where he met Nie Qiuheng, truly met him, and watched how the man took care of flowers with blood-stained hands. It is where he had witnessed the invulnerable Sect Leader Nie dance around him awkwardly, unsure of how to treat him.

It is where Lan Qiren fell in love once again when Nie Qiuheng accidentally uprooted an entire bush of flowers and stared at it for a few moments before dark amber eyes flickered with soft amusement.

He is lucky, to have fallen in love twice, when it is known that the Gusu Lan Sect only fell in love once.

Shakes his head of his thoughts before looking down towards Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang. Both of them look tired, exhausted, unable to help themselves. They are Nie Qiuheng’s children, and he has sworn to protect them and his nephews.

“Where are we going?” Nie Mingjue whispers, holds Nie Huaisang tightly as they approach the garden. One not close enough to be an adult and one still a child. They do not deserve this burden.

“To see your father,” Lan Qiren answers quietly, and to his relief, his gupin is there where he left it.

Something brushes against his shoulder in a gentle gesture, and—Lan Qiren knows that his dead lover is nearby, close. 

Nie Mingjue frowns, but doesn’t argue when he sits the boys down next to him, and really, Nie Mingjue looks so much like his father that it hurts. It’s good though, to see Nie Qiuheng live through his sons.

Qi flutters at his fingertips as he settles them on top of the gupin, humming warmly. Flickers coldly for a moment before he plays the first few notes of Inquiry.

Qiren.

Blinking, Lan Qiren looks up to see his dead lover staring at him. It’s not surprising, for the ghost to appear so fast anymore, but—Nie Mingjue lets out a sob beside him.

“Fuqin?” the boy asks hoarsely.

Nie Qiuheng plays a note. A-Jue, the ghost says softly. A-Jue, I am... sorry.

He repeats the ghost’s words, and Nie Mingjue breaks down into a cry. Nie Huaisang stares with wide eyes and lifts a hand to brush against his father’s, seemingly fascinated by how his father’s hand seems to press firmly against his own.

He swore. Lan Qiren has sworn to protect Nie Qiuheng’s sons and his own nephews. He will keep it, and allow Nie Qiuheng to talk with their children. Will hope Lan Xichen will smile just as brightly, Lan Wangji asking questions to learn about their world. Will make sure that Nie Mingjue will have someone to depend on, have Nie Huaisang live his best life.

Lan Qiren will make sure of it, that, he has sworn to his dead lover.

[myakkoh]

midnight cloud (sunlight shines through)

(Read on Ao3)

Once again, please allow me to credit @vandrell and her terrible challenge to me to write YP!characters.

Side notes: Slightly graphic violence, character death, blood, mentions/implications of Fierce Corpses eating a human, please read at your own risk!

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It’s startling to see dead bodies of his fellow clansmen on the ground.

Wen Ruohan swallows and dips his sword down to hurry to the ground, his robes billowing in the wind. Behind him, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji follow silently, and—maybe it’s good that the Twin Jades of Gusu is there with him this time around. They can calm the souls of his dead clansmen, and purify the resentful energy in the air, make sure there’s no lingering spirits.

As much as he hates those who still live and preach under Wen Chao’s rule, his father’s rule, Wen Ruohan doesn’t lie with the fact he wishes his clansmen didn’t die such a brutal death. They don’t deserve such death like this. But—upon seeing one of the clansmen who sided with his father, he can see why they deserve death like this. Licks chapped lips before turning towards the entrance to the insides of the tower.

Most surveillance towers for the past couple of months have been attacked; dead corpses scattered, heads rolling, and lingering resentful energy. The Sunshot Campaign hasn’t figured out who has been behind those attacks, but it’s the same person every time. It’s easy to tell, since the same talismans show up every time, the same result happens.

No one in the cultivating world can cause this much slaughter within one night.

“More corpses,” Lan Xichen murmurs, gently stepping off his sword. His xiao hangs on his side, and Wen Ruohan has to look away, the memory of soft music and warm smiles curling across his mind. “Do you think the perpetrator is still here?”

“Perhaps they’re inside?” Wen Ruohan suggests softly, steps off his own sword and sheathes it. His boots touch the puddle of blood, and when he lifts it up, it’s dripping dark red under the sliver of moonlight.

Lan Wangji doesn’t say a word, only sweeping past him as crimson red immediately seeps into white and blue robes. His gupin is secured on his back, and he vanishes into the tower. Wen Ruohan can tell though, Lan Wangji is sick with worry, no matter what the others do to try and cheer him up. He hasn’t been doing nothing, after all, Lan Qiren–

Stops, pauses, lowers his eyes from the remainder of the other he fell in love with a couple of years ago. Lan Qiren is still missing, vanished without a trace, and he—they have no way of finding out where he is. His golden core hums silently within ice, as if soothing him, before it twists into fire, warmth spreading across his body.

“Are you alright?” Lan Xichen softly inquires behind him, makes him turn his head towards his friend. Lan Xichen may be Sect Heir, just like Wen Xu, but he’s more patient than his older brother, more willing to understand. But—Lan Qiren is his and Lan Wangji’s cousin, and they’re mourning, just like him, hopeful to find him.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly afterwards. “We should find xiao-Zhan before he runs into any trouble.”

“Wangji will be fine,” his friend soothes him. 

“I hope so.”

The scent of sweet iron hangs in the air as they enter the tower, shadows twisting at every corner, moonlight dancing upon every window and opening there is. It’s how dark that scares Wen Ruohan the most; he lifts a hand, channels his spiritual energy to create a small flame in his palm. Weaker than what he can usually use and do, but it will be sufficient for now.

Corpses are slumped against the wall once he directs the flame towards one direction, blank eyes staring into nothing and faces slacked wide open with horror. Empty screams come from open mouths, ashen grey skin wrinkling, as if someone had taken their spiritual energy. He can hear Lan Xichen softly inhale at the inhumane way they were killed, the whispers of shadows hissing for revenge.

It’s not startling, but—the resentful energy is hanging heavily on his shoulders like boulders, like the burdens and responsibilities he has swore to take upon himself. Licks his lips as Lan Xichen steps up next to him, Liebing already in his friend’s hands. A single note unleashed throws the resentful energy back, honey golden eyes seemingly shining within the flame in the palm of his hand.

“It’s stronger,” the Lan Sect Heir murmurs as he tucks Liebing away.

Wen Ruohan throws him a curious glance. “The resentful energy?”

“Yes.” Lan Xichen tucks his hands into his sleeves, a serious look firmly placed within his eyes. “You remember how easy it was for Wangji and I to cleanse most of the resentful energy by ourselves.” He slowly nods, and Lan Xichen continues, “I believe the perpetrator is currently here with us. It’s slowly gathering somewhere close by as well.”

“I see.” Only a Lan would be able to figure out where the current flow of resentful energy is.

Lan Xichen hums, stepping forward on the blood-drenched floor and Wen Ruohan follows him, the small flame flickering pale blue for a moment. Pauses, feels his chest squeeze from the remainder of what he now has, before he pushes forward.

There’s no point or use in lingering in the past, not when he has other things to do in the present.

Takes another step forward and–

A scream, then a familiar haunting melody floats in the air, gently and full of anger. Fear and shock curls across and under his skin as he meets Lan Xichen’s eyes, doesn’t think twice before he sprints ahead, the small flame vanishing. It’s so, so easy to tell who’s playing the melody, so easy to burst into the room where the song is coming from.

Lan Wangji stands in front of him, his back turned and stiff. Green flames flicker around the room, dancing ever so slowly like leaves in the breeze. There’s Fierce Corpses here, too, for some strange reason, slowly swaying side to side, the scent of rotting flesh hanging heavy in the air. They’re not moving, only crowding around a near-naked woman on the ground and near a dark figure in the shadows.

Wang Lingjiao shivers, shaking in front of them with running tears and ruined makeup, doesn’t look like the proud bitch that she is when she’s around Wen Chao, nor the woman who commanded some of the cultivators of the Qishan Wen Sect’s army. There’s ugly wounds, large gashes on her body, scalding and dark red, blood sluggishly leaking out. She’s shaking so badly, and Wen Ruohan nearly feels pity for her.

Nearly.

Lan Xichen stops beside him, and Wang Lingjiao begins to scream. Her eyes grow wide, wild with fear and horror flashing in them, settled on the dark figure in the shadows. One step they take, and she screams more, louder and louder and louder. 

“Stay away from me!” she screeches, a Fierce Corpse lifting its head up at the sudden noise. It nearly lunges at her, but a sharp note forces it still. Wang Lingjiao points towards the dark figure, her mouth twisting into a snarl. “You monster! We killed you! I saw you die!”

I saw you die!

Wen Ruohan’s breath catches in his throat, and moonlight shines accusingly through the windows. Is it you? 

A soft chuckle escapes the dark figure, the green flames suddenly roaring into a blazing inferno. They step forward, soft footsteps echoing across the bare room, gentle rustling of robes, a sharp contrast to the tedious tension in the air. Then a hand lifts from the shadows, holding a black dizi, and–

He forgets to breathe.

Lan Qiren hasn’t changed too much, despite looking dangerously thin and a daunting look in his eyes. Grey and blue robes swish against the stone floor, a grey forehead ribbon fluttering around his head, the black dizi being spun in one hand and the other hanging by his side. Intimate dark golden eyes are tinged with crimson red, an unnatural twist of steady contempt tugs at pale lips.

Resentful energy circles around him, hisses, and crackles, and at one lift of a hand, it dives towards Wang Lingjiao with a soundless howl of delight.

One scream, another, and Lan Xichen makes a sound of sheer apprehension as Wang Lingjiao raises her hands to her face, before scratching down. There’s trails of where sharp nails have gone down, skin harshly tearing apart wherever those fingers are led and danced upon. It’s horrifying, the way the resentful energy is directing where she will harm herself next, but he can’t look away.

There’s a look of quiet malice shot towards the woman, before hands cautiously lift the black dizi to pale lips and a quick succession of notes are sounded. The Fierce Corpses’ heads snap up, makes him watch in horror and fascination as they lunge towards Wang Lingjiao and tear.

This time, he looks away, tries to ignore the sounds of flesh being torn apart, the sounds of Wang Lingjiao’s screams and gurgles, the scent of fresh blood entering the air. He can practically taste the sweet iron in the air, before he glances towards the Twin Jades of Gusu.

Both are quiet, Lan Wangji’s eyes grim and his mouth set in a straight line, Lan Xichen quiet and seemingly contemplating something in his mind. It’s easy to see, though, they are disturbed by the violent acts of tonight’s current events. But—Wang Lingjiao deserves it, after everything she has done, especially to him.

To Lan Qiren.

Wen Ruohan turns and heads towards said cultivator, those beautiful golden eyes looking up at him through a slow blink. “Qiren,” he breathes, as Lan Qiren lowers the black dizi from his lips and down to his side. His golden core flickers with icy delight, familiarity, and it sings.

“Ruohan,” Lan Qiren says evenly, after a moment of silence. It takes all of Wen Ruohan’s will to not immediately grab the other man and drag him into a bone-crushing hug, for all his stupidity and sacrifice, for not allowing them to know where he went, for making him feel like this.

“You look well,” he offers.

“Mn.” Lan Qiren tilts his head to the side, before he focuses on Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. His lips press into a straight line, like he’s wary of them attacking him. The crimson in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Xichen, Wangji.”

“A-Ren,” Lan Xichen says softly in greeting. Pauses like he’s contemplating a thought in his mind, before a soft smile stretches across his face. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Lan Qiren inclines his head, gives a simple nod while staying silent. There’s a slight furrow of brows, seemingly considering something, and Wen Ruohan wants to make a joke to lighten the situation, but he can’t. He hasn’t seen Lan Qiren in so long, doesn’t know how he’ll react to him anymore. Doesn’t even know if he’s the same anymore.

His golden core flickers in his chest, like it’s missing something, and he places a hand on top of it, feels his chest tighten when Lan Qiren doesn’t meet his eyes. Only focusing on the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan with those familiar dark golden eyes with red. 

“Why?” Lan Wangji asks, breaking the silence. The implications of the question is easy to guess, to notice the slight tremble through the younger’s voice.

Dark golden eyes sharpen, the crimson tinge making it seem like he’s enraged. Lan Qiren’s voice is soft, cold, when he speaks. “For?”

“Why–” Lan Wangji gestures to the Fierce Corpses, who seem to have finished feasting. Dark red drips down from their mouth, heads lolling around, blank eyes staring at them. Wen Ruohan suppresses a shiver as he looks down and sees the bloodied and messy pile of flesh and bones. “–would you use them? This is not right.”

Are you going to tell them the truth? Wen Ruohan wonders as he watches Lan Qiren, the man’s grip on his dizi tightening. It would be so easy, to have it out in the open, when Lan Qiren is vulnerable, an easy target... he grits his teeth silently and breathes. It would be easy to protect him, make sure he’ll never be alone after disappearing.

“It’s gone,” Lan Qiren says flatly. The words are enough to make Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji immediately understand. Wen Ruohan only stares at him. Doesn’t he trust the Twin Jades? They’re his cousins, the ones who he grew up with, surely he’d tell them about what really happened. “I will be there for the Song of Cleansing later,” Lan Qiren continues.

“Of course,” Lan Xichen says warmly, with a voice that suggests they will be discussing it later without the audience. Makes Wen Ruohan startle and glance towards Lan Qiren’s indifferent face.

It’s colder, dark golden eyes looking more tired than normal. He seems more pale than usual, and there’s no smile when he looks at him.

How he wants to make the man smile, to be that soft-smiling teenager he’s met at Cloud Recesses, the one who indulges him and talks to him about plans to better the future of cultivators. He wants to see him leaning over the table with several experimental talismans scattered around, eyes half-lidded with concentration again. Wants to see him arguing with Wei Wuxian about the morals of cultivators and different cultivation methods again.

Wants to see how his eyes soften again when Wen Ruohan finds something he adores. Wishes to watch the way he stands under the falling snowflakes from the sky and with wonder on his face. By Heavens, he already knows why he wants to. Wen Ruohan swallows and steadies himself.

“Xichen, xiao-Zhan,” he says and three pairs of different shades of golden eyes look towards him. “Would you mind if I speak with Qiren alone?”

Lan Xichen looks surprised by the sudden question, before he nods slowly and gestures to Lan Wangji. The youngest of them gives Wen Ruohan a subtle glare, mouth pressed more tightly together, and whips around, heads towards the door, with his brother following suit. They all know how close Wen Ruohan and Lan Qiren are, despite everything that has happened.

He hopes they still are.

When the two brothers leave the room, Wen Ruohan breathes in sweet iron once more and turns to face Lan Qiren. Dark golden eyes meet his, narrowed and suspicious, but his shoulders are slowly relaxing. The Fierce Corpses stagger, but they don’t move.

“You didn’t tell them,” he says.

“I told them nothing but the truth,” Lan Qiren says, lips pressing more tightly together. A half-truth, even if Wen Ruohan doesn’t understand why. 

“You told them half of it,” Wen Ruohan tells him, closes his eyes when the memory of waking up to Wen Qing crying flickers through his mind. It was painful to watch, still is, always will be. His golden core burns. “Why did you give it to me?”

“Give what to you?” The way Lan Qiren is still denying the truth makes him want to laugh. The Gusu Lan Sect are not righteous for nothing, probably have rules for this, but he remembers the founder, and Lan An was an example of a Lan who fell deep in love. That’s enough to tell him.

How Lan Qiren fell in love with the second son of Wen Chao is beyond him, but he gave a sacrifice, and all Wen Ruohan wants is to curl around him and never let go. Lan Qiren is already hurting so much, is already suffering from whatever backlash there is to losing everything there is to be a cultivator. He just wants to never let go again.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he says softly, and hears Lan Qiren’s breath hitch. “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell?”

“I never gave you my golden core,” Lan Qiren says coolly, already lying through his teeth.

Wen Ruohan smiles humourlessly. “I never mentioned your golden core,” he whispers, waits for the next statement of denial, but it never comes. Instead, Lan Qiren is staring at him with wide eyes, the crimson in them slowly fading away, fear and horror etched into it. “So I was right,” he concludes, and Lan Qiren glares at him. “Why? I was fine without my golden core.”

“Does it matter?” Lan Qiren mutters, looks away from him.

“You had a future, Qiren,” Wen Ruohan murmurs and takes Lan Qiren’s free hand into his own. The other doesn’t resist him, allows Wen Ruohan to pull him to his chest and hold him there. “Why would you risk it all to give your golden core to me? When you know that I can feel the difference between mine... and yours?”

Looks down at Lan Qiren, who closes his eyes, and Wen Ruohan tightens his grip on him, slightly afraid the other will disappear from his arms. It was so easy back then to figure it, with the unfamiliar feeling of snow and ice in his chest, instead of the raging inferno he had carefully cultivated by himself. The amount of spiritual energy was significantly less, as well as how weak he left.

Wen Qing is a doctor, and he’s read her theory about transplanting golden cores from one person to another. He knew after waking up to her crying and Wen Ning’s attempts to soothe her. It was cruel, unnecessary, especially when Wen Xu was the Sect Heir and he was just the younger of them.

He doesn’t understand why.

Lan Qiren laughs bitterly against his chest. “I am just a cousin to Xichen and Wangji, Ruohan,” he says, so quietly, barely audible over the roaring of flames. “They do not need me to be a Sect Heir in case they both die. There are more worthy choices than me.” One shaky breath. “But the Wens have no one but you and Wen Xu. If Wen Xu dies, then you will have to lead.

“Who would follow the other sects for peace if both of you die?” Lan Qiren shakes his head, but there’s no regret in his eyes. Just solemn acceptance. “No, it’s better this way. You are more important than me, so no one can take advantage of you if you do need to end up leading.”

It hurts, even if it's true, even if Wen Ruohan wants differently. Lan Qiren is just as important to the Gusu Lan Sect as Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. He’s brilliant, the one who creates new talismans needed in order to improve night hunting. The only one who rivals him in that area is Wei Wuxian, and that idiot enjoys arguing with Lan Qiren about different possibilities.

He’s important to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji because they’re family. He’s important to Wei Wuxian and surprisingly Jiang Cheng, because they’re friends. He’s important to Wen Ruohan, because Wen Ruohan knows he’s in love and can never let go.

I love you, Wen Ruohan thinks desperately as he holds Lan Qiren in his arms, and breathes in the dull scent of gentians. “You’re important,” he murmurs and draws back a little to watch the other’s expression. A barely seen furrow of brows in confusion. “More than me. To me.”

“... what?” is whispered with a sliver of disbelief.

“You’re important to me,” Wen Ruohan says quietly, slowly lifts the other’s hand to press his lips to it. Hears Lan Qiren’s breath hitch as he slowly drags them across cold skin, trailing down to the heartbeat in his wrist. Can feel Lan Qiren’s wrist stiffening against his lips, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening.

He lifts his eyes to see Lan Qiren staring back at him, hope and terror dancing across dark golden eyes. He opens his mouth, and hears his voice crack as he speaks again, lowering their hands down, laces them together. “Don’t leave.”

Don’t leave me.

Lan Qiren pauses, as if considering what to say. Then faintly smiles, a concealed twitch of pale lips, before stepping close to him. “I won’t,” the other promises, to both requests.

Wen Ruohan doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say another word, only pressing his forehead to the other’s.

I love you.

[myakkoh]

Pretty? Oh, Thank You

(Read here on Ao3!)

Please thank @cherfleur for the prompt “NHS helps JC with toddler JL,” which turned into NHS being himself, JL is a matchmaker, and JC is done.

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“Pretty uncle!” Jin Ling cries upon sight of Jin Guangyao.

Nie Huaisang hides a smirk behind his fan as Jin Guangyao smiles and heads straight for Jiang Wanyin and Jin Ling. The young Jin Sect Heir is dressed in the familiar purple robes of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect today, his hair done up rather nicely with a lotus pin holding it up.

There’s a soft look in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes as he watches Jin Ling, then it twists into a scowl, and Nie Huaisang smooths his own features into a wide-eyed look. Perhaps there’s some sense in pretending he doesn’t know what Jin Ling is talking about. But, he thinks as he observes Jin Guangyao approaching the two.

It’ll be fun to pretend.

He snaps his fan closed, bites his bottom lip as he stares down at Jin Ling. The boy stares up at his youngest uncle with such a disdainful look on his face, close enough to be Jiang Wanyin’s scowl. Nie Huaisang nears the other Sect Leader and inclines his head.

“Sect Leader Jiang!” he says meekly, close enough to see Jiang Wanyin twitch. The furrowing of his brows, the tight press of his lips, the glare directed towards Jin Guangyao... he’s annoyed. Nie Huaisang flips his fan open and covers his smile, but leaves his eyes wide. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here!”

“You were told that I would be here,” Jiang Wanyin says in disbelief.

“I didn’t know!”

“What the fuck do you mean, I didn’t know?”

He fiddles with his fan. “I truly didn’t, Jiang-xiong! Perhaps, you can tell me later when we’re alone?” he says, empathizes on the last word, and flutters his eyelashes at the other man. Nie Huaisang tries not to smile when Jiang Wanyin turns a faint shade of pink and looks away with a huff.

“Fine,” Jiang Wanyin snarls out.

Brightens and beams at him. “Wonderful!”

“You’re not pretty uncle, xiaoshu,” Jin Ling says with a huff, so similar to Jiang Wanyin, and takes his attention away from the other Sect Leader. “Xiaoshu isn’t as pretty as pretty uncle.”

Oh, the fun is about to begin.

Jin Guangyao stares down at him, dumbfounded. “What?” he asks weakly, and Nie Huaisang blinks with wide eyes as Jin Ling points to him. Oh, this is good. He flips his fan open and gasps, flutters his fan.

“Pretty uncle is there!”

“Nie Huaisang?” Jiang Wanyin stares at his nephew, his scowl turning into a look of mild surprise, like he hasn’t been expecting this. Nie Huaisang doesn’t blame him for not thinking so, even if his previous expression says otherwise. “You think that this idiot–” The man gestures towards him with disbelief. “–is pretty?”

Jin Ling nods importantly, a faint look of smugness on his face. “Yes. Pretty uncle.”

Nie Huaisang internally preens. Then–

“Pretty uncle is pretty, so therefore he has to be with jiujiu.”

Jin Guangyao stares, Jiang Wanyin turns a bright shade of red, and Nie Huaisang drops his fan in shock. “Jin Rulan!” Jiang Wanyin roars and jumps to his feet, the flush of red creeping up his ears, and—oh. Oh. Nie Huaisang feels his own cheeks heat up. “Why would you sprout such bullsh–”

The Jin Sect Heir gives the man a look of disbelief. “Jiujiu should stop being dumb.”

“You–” Jiang Wanyin lets out a strangled noise and dives for the boy. Jin Ling shrieks and ducks under the lunge, while Jin Guangyao settles his face into a soft smile. Nie Huaisang covers his own wide smile with his fan. Such an endearing boy. Perhaps he can court Jiang Wanyin.

Jin Ling did give him an opening for it, after all.

[myakkoh]

Match Made in Heaven (If Heaven was a Jester’s Court) - Chapter 5

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Xue Yang stares.

“Is that a kid?” he demands, points to the tiny girl who seems to be readily bouncing around on her feet. Both of her eyes are a faint grey, but she blinks and moves around with someone who knows their surroundings.

So she’s  not  blind, and now Xue Yang has to deal with a tiny girl and the two lovers. Which, fuck, did they skip to the adoption stage? When the fuck did they get to the adoption stage?

“Fucking rude!” the tiny girl roars, and glares. To be fair, it’s more of a pout, not scary at all, and Xue Yang wonders where the fuck did Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan find her. “I’m not fucking tiny, asshole!”

... okay, maybe he likes her a little. It doesn’t matter.

Xiao Xingchen beams. “Isn’t she adorable?” he asks and pats the girl on her head. Or, it could be the dragon’s tendency to hoard very pretty things. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“She is adorable,” Song Lan agrees, and they both turn to look at him with patience in their eyes.

What is this, target Xue Yang day?

“She looks fucking fine,” Xue Yang snaps. 

“Good! Because she’s coming with us!”

“Okay, now where the fuck did that plan come from—“

“Good idea,” Song Lan says and beckons Xiao Xingchen with a hint of a smile. His heart does  not  beat faster. “Xingchen, let’s go find some food before we leave this inn.”

They both leave, the two bastards, and that leaves one tiny girl and him alone. She opens her mouth, before Xue Yang snaps, “Don’t fucking say a word. I know.”

“... I didn’t say anything.”

“Just shut the fuck up.” Xue Yang buries his face in his hands. “Why the fuck couldn’t they find any other god to do this? Why the fuck me?”

The girl wisely keeps her mouth shut. Xue Yang appreciates that, not that he’ll fucking tell her.

[myakkoh]

Into the Stars (I Didn’t Mean To)

[AKA; WTF IS A GALAXY]

(Read here on Ao3!)

So before we get into this, you may blame @ladyteldra for this prompt, which was JC falling into Mace Windu’s lap. Literally.

Please thank @nillegible for her subtitle and the fact of this is apparently going to be the first of so many more dimensional travelling things! And without further ado, please enjoy!

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Jiang Cheng would like to say this is none of his fault to begin with.

He was visiting Wei Wuxian when the latter asked for him to come by and say hello to his new niece. Jiang Cheng did come by and stop to say hello to his niece, checking up on his brother to make sure he isn’t coming up with more crazy stunts. It’s nice to spend time with his former brother, despite their differences now.

Lan Wangji had been out that day, with Lan Sizhui and the other kid to guide some junior disciples in a night hunt. Jin Ling offered to come along, so it had been only Wei Wuxian, his niece, and himself inside his former brother’s home.

Then he accidentally tripped into one of Wei Wuxian’s stretched arrays and found himself falling from the ceiling to... wherever this place is.

And tumbling straight into a man’s lap.

Said man is staring up at him with a raised eyebrow, large, warm hands already placing themselves on his hips so he doesn’t fall. His own hands are gripping the man’s shoulders, straddling the man’s lap like he’s hanging onto him for dear life. The man’s warm, his gaze flickering to the side before blinking slowly at him.

Jiang Cheng feels his face flush hot as he stares into impossibly dark eyes before someone clears their throat. This is embarrassing. He’s a Sect Leader, he’s not supposed to be stumbling into a misplaced array and tumble straight into someone’s lap. But the man’s not letting go so he has to make do with what he can do.

He has to turn his head around to see who made the noise, only to stare at the most fucking ridiculous thing he has ever seen in his entire life.

It’s green.

It’s short and wrinkly.

It has fucking long ears.

“What the fuck are you?” Jiang Cheng asks in disbelief and horror.

“The translators are on, correct?” another voice asks cheerfully, rather muffled, and Jiang Cheng turns his head yet again to see a different, orange thing that has some kind of mask placed over its mouth.

“What the fuck?” he says again, if not in a higher-pitched tone. “What the fuck?”

Clearly, this is some kind of nightmare that Wei Wuxian casted upon him. No creatures, Demons or Ghost or a Fierce Corpse look like these things; not even when they were at Burial Mound did they see these things. He licks his lips and the man’s hands tighten on his hips as if to steady him.

“Perhaps we should let him sit down before we start interrogating him?” a female’s voice inquiries. “He’s full of panic and fear.”

“His thoughts are spilling into the Force,” another thing murmurs when he turns around his head to look again. This time it’s a thing where there’s several horns on its head and strange line tattoos. “Does he even know what the Force is?”

“You have horns,” Jiang Cheng says in disbelief and the thing looks up to steadily look at him. “What the fuck are you? A Ghost? Demon?”

The thing blinks, before it slowly raises a brow. “I am a Zabrak.”

“What the fuck is a Zabrak?”

“A sentient species in the galaxy,” another answers, slightly confused.

“What the fuck is a galaxy?”

“Clearly, he’s not from here,” one, who has a long fucking neck, says slowly. “He doesn’t show any recognition for any of us, nor does he know where he is. We don’t even know where he came from.”

“No fucking shit,” Jiang Cheng snaps, slightly hysterical as he looks from one thing to another thing, whatever they are. He needs to get out of here, get back to Wei Wuxian and strangle him. “What the fuck even are you... you things? You’re not even a Ghost!”

“Well, clearly he doesn’t, seeing how we are things to him,” one of said things says dryly.

“Enough,” the man under him says firmly, and Jiang Cheng swings his head back around to stare down at the man. The room goes silent, seemingly waiting for the man’s continuation as the man’s hands tighten against his hips. So, he must be the leader, Jiang Cheng thinks, coolly looks down at him.

The man doesn’t scare him as much as others have. Jiang Cheng has fought in a war, against murderers and slaughterers of his Sect, has faced down Wen Zhuliu and survived, even if he lost his original golden core for it. He’s not scared of one simple man who is a leader. He has seen worse.

Dark eyes only blink once, then the first question comes– “Who are you?”

“I think that,” Jiang Cheng says slowly, dangerously, and rises above him, his hands gripping the man’s shoulders tightly. The man doesn’t flinch to his credit. “You should be telling me who you are, before I can tell you my name.”

“Is that so?” the man asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Indeed.” He lets Zidian crackle against the man, allows him to feel the spark of lightning, sees him stiffen under him. Jiang Cheng has been Sect Leader long enough to know when to give an aggressive threat, or a passive one, even though he grows short-tempered most of the time. “Tell me who the fuck you are, and maybe I won’t use Zidian.”

A considerate hum escapes from the man under him, like he doesn’t notice Zidian sparking and the stiff silence around them. His hands are loosening from Jiang Cheng’s hips, steadily says, “I am Jedi Master Mace Windu.”

Briefly, Jiang Cheng wonders what kind of last name is Mace. A Jedi Master clearly sounds like a Sect Leader, but he has no way of knowing, no way of telling. “So... your family name is Mace?” he says, and tastes something sour in his mouth as the man stares at him, brow furrowing.

“... no. Windu is my... family name.”

“... oh.” An awkward silence emerges. “I am Jiang Wanyin, Sect Leader of the Jiang Sect.” Better time tell them his courtesy name instead of his personal one. Mace’s hands are still on his hips, feels his cheeks heating up from the warmth of it.

“What’s a sect?” something asks, after a moment.

Jiang Cheng can feel a headache coming on.

[myakkoh]

built from love

(Read here on Ao3!)

Birthday present for @cherfleur! Hope you enjoy, Cher!

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Soft laughter is carried along the breeze and reaches his ears with soft fluttering of flowers next to him.

Nie Qiuheng rests his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbow on the edge of the table, watching Nie Mingjue interact with Wen Xu in the garden ahead of him. It’s good, good to watch his son develop a relationship with the Wen boy, something that will end up as good relations with both of their sects. Perhaps Wen Ruohan would permit Wen Xu to visit the Unclean Realm.

Maybe Lan Qiren will allow Lan Xichen to come along, seeing how the boy may need friends from other sects. Nie Mingjue and Wen Xu seem both friendly enough with each other, enough to encourage the shy boy to join them the next time they meet up.

Quiet footsteps echo behind him, makes him slightly turn his head to see white and blue robes at the edge of his vision. Lan Qiren sits down beside him, narrowed dark golden eyes softening at the sight of the boys playing in front of them. The man seems more at ease than before, which says plenty from the times he stubbornly stayed away from both him and Wen Ruohan.

A breeze picks up, skids around them and tugs playfully on Lan Qiren’s forehead ribbon, the ends of it fluttering in the air. Nie Qiuheng remembers the same forehead ribbon, wrapped around Lan Qiren’s wrists rather prettily the other night. The other could have easily broken out of it, torn the ribbon apart and get a new one for himself, but—he trusted him, trusted Wen Ruohan, trusted them to not break him.

It says everything and how Lan Qiren feels about them. It warms him, doesn’t make him say it outright, but the way Lan Qiren allows him to lace their hands together is enough. Fleeting, yet, enough. Just for them.

He still doesn’t know what to call this, with what’s happening between him, Wen Ruohan, and Lan Qiren. A relationship? Partnership between three men who has seen the world at its worst? No. It’s still fragile, no matter how warm, so easy to shove down into the deepest, darkest part of his mind and bury it under his own duties. They have no name for it.

It’s just them.

Pale lips twitch into a faint smile, and Wen Xu is showing Nie Mingjue a small flame flickering in the palms of two hands. Nie Mingjue seemingly makes gestures, mouth rapidly speaking, makes Wen Xu incline his head and blow the flames to the sky. Said flames turn into a lantern, floating in the sky.

“Enjoying yourself?” Lan Qiren asks, and he probably already knows the answer.

“Indeed,” Nie Qiuheng says mildly and feels his lips curl into a soft smile when Lan Qiren leans closer, dark golden eyes trained on the children. “Are you feeling fine?”

“I will live, Sect Leader Nie,” the other says dryly, like the sudden shift of discomfort isn’t visible. It’s barely visible, shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, yet Nie Qiuheng wants to tell the other head back to the guest room Wen Ruohan set up for all three of them. His chest tightens, and suddenly he can’t breathe much.

“We are on equal grounds as of the current moment,” Nie Qiuheng says, then adds, “Qiren.”

Lan Qiren eyes him carefully, as if he doesn’t expect Qiuheng to mean it. Then quietly, with uncertainty– “Qiuheng.”

The whisper of his name makes him gently squeeze the other’s hand, turn his gaze back towards the children. Wen Xu seems to be copying movements of a set from Nie Mingjue; dancing movements from one of their festivals. Feels his lips curve into another smile when his son corrects Wen Xu’s posture and resumes the lesson. 

Lan Qiren lets out a noise of aggravation as his hand tightens around his own, makes him look over to the other, who is staring behind them. He looks younger without the goatee, Nie Qiuheng thinks absently as he turns to see Wen Ruohan walking towards them with an uncharacteristic smile on the man’s face. The man’s robes are mostly parted to reveal a bare chest, and... a bite mark.

Ah, he thinks, so that’s the reason why Lan Qiren is annoyed, with dark golden eyes narrowing in frustration.

“Shameless,” Lan Qiren mutters as Wen Ruohan steps up to them.

“You were the one who was rather shameless last night, Qiren,” Wen Ruohan tells the other with a smirk, looking smug when Lan Qiren looks as if he’s about to hit the man. It’s deserved, but that seems to be exactly what Wen Ruohan wanted. “Who was the one begging Qiuheng and I to hurry up again?”

“You are ridiculous,” the other retorts, turns away, ears burning a bright red. “And I was not begging, only merely calling out your names.”

Wen Ruohan softly lets out a laugh, caresses their joined hands with a gentle touch before reaching to grip Lan Qiren’s shoulder. Leans forward across the table to press his forehead against Lan Qiren’s, the other’s eyes fluttering shut. It’s astonishing, to see the fearsome Sect Leader Wen quiet the Lan Regent down with a couple of words and gestures.

Then again, he’s been seeing it for the past few days now, the way Lan Qiren silences Wen Ruohan with a look, their touches gentle and lingering, the sarcasm and harsh words spoken with no heat behind them. Nie Qiuheng does not wish for this to end for the world, nor does he want it to stop.

Doesn’t move when Wen Ruohan moves his head back, grins that impossible smile of his, all sly and lazy, and turns towards him. “Qiuheng,” he greets cheerfully, like Lan Qiren isn’t giving him another glare. “Would you like to see Qiren in red or in that dark green?”

Lan Qiren splutters. He stares. That’s... that’s a question? Does Wen Ruohan wish to see the other wearing their sect colours? Nie Qiuheng licks chapped lips, tasting the sweet iron taste of blood on his tongue as he continues to stare. “Red and white with gold?” he says with slight confusion.

“He would look better in red and gold,” Wen Ruohan says thoughtfully, a pleased grin spreading across his lips. 

“Do I not get a say in this?” Lan Qiren complains lightly. 

“I like seeing you dressed in my clothes,” Wen Ruohan offers nonchalantly, and Lan Qiren flushes a bright red before looking away from him, “however, I believe you’d like a different set of clothes so you don’t have to get your current ones dirty.”

“You made them dirty,” Lan Qiren mutters.

“Perhaps because he was rather excited to see you out of them,” Nie Qiuheng says mildly, feels his lips twist into a smile as both men turn to look at him. The other narrows his eyes at him, expression perfectly neutral except for the betrayal in his eyes. Wen Ruohan simply laughs. “Seeing how he nearly ripped them off of you.”

“Like he did to you?” the other challenges.

Nie Qiuheng softly snorts, feels his cheeks heat up, and notices how Wen Ruohan places his hand on top of their hands. It’s easy to lose himself within the others’ companionship, the way Lan Qiren gives his rare smiles freely to them and Wen Ruohan discards his role as Sect Leader. It shouldn’t be happening between them.

Yet, it already does. Nie Qiuheng knows what kind of tea Lan Qiren favours during the morning, and what snacks Wen Ruohan prefers to eat when with them. He knows how Lan Qiren acts much softer with no heat behind words, and how Wen Ruohan makes sure they’re both alright with whatever the man plans.

Knows how easily Lan Qiren can coax Wen Ruohan out of doing paperwork with few words, only drawing back when Wen Ruohan tells him to. Their relationship with each other has already been established, years ago, and yet—Nie Qiuheng finds himself in the middle of it, watching the two dance around him and each other, all unsure of how to proceed, especially when they’re all so tired.

Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he watches as Nie Mingjue and Wen Xu dance in the ring of fire together, both boys smiling brightly at each other. Behind him, something shifts and a calloused hand grasps his chin, makes him turn around to see Wen Ruohan towering over him. The man is as tall as him, yet, he looks more of a giant who seems to love getting the attention of both him and Lan Qiren.

“Qiuheng,” Wen Ruohan murmurs, low and deliberate, crimson eyes dancing with mirth. “Have you ever thought of yourself in red?”

Either the man means in the Wen Sect colours of red, or bathed in scarlet when slicing through hordes of Fierce Corpses. Nie Qiuheng swallows, and steadily meets Wen Ruohan’s eyes with his own lips settling in a straight line. Lan Qiren’s hand tightens on his, as if reassuring him everything would be alright.

It would, though. Wen Ruohan would never harm him, nor would he harm Lan Qiren. That’s how much Wen Ruohan seems to care for them, even if Nie Qiuheng has seen Wen Ruohan murmur forbidden words in Lan Qiren’s ears. And after figuring the man was corrupted with resentful energy, after cleansing him with the Song of Cleansing and Hekai, well. He hasn’t seen signs of the man trying to harm them.

His heart beats rapidly as Wen Ruohan leans closer to him, hand still gripping his chin. Feels his eyes fluttering shut when the man gently kisses him, soft and sweet. Hands tighten on his own, and Nie Qiuheng feels teeth suddenly biting down on his lips. Not enough to draw blood, but—enough to make him grunt and draw back.

The man cares about them. He would never harm them. Nie Qiuheng knows it all too well, especially the feeling fluttering in his stomach as Wen Ruohan grins sharply. Love is too strong of a word to describe them, and yet—it fits them just fine.

“I thought of sleeping in red blankets,” Nie Qiuheng says steadily, like he hasn’t just been kissed and had his lips bitten on.

Wen Ruohan stares at him. “... what. What, no,” the man squawks, and jerks back. The wide-eyed look on the other man’s face makes him snort. “I am  not  talking about blankets or sleeping! Where did you even get that idea?”

He turns to meet dark golden eyes, pale lips curling into a faint smirk. “I, too,” Lan Qiren says, which would have been a straight face if not for the smirk, “would like to sleep in red blankets.”

“Qiren, not you, too!”

Yes, Nie Qiuheng thinks as he watches Lan Qiren lean up to kiss the complaint out of Wen Ruohan’s open mouth. In front of them, Wen Xu and Nie Mingjue let out soft peels of laughter as they dance within the ring of fire. He wouldn’t trade this for the world.

[myakkoh]

Match Made in Heaven (If Heaven was a Jester’s Court) - Chapter 3

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Xue Yang does not remember when the absolute fuck did he start travelling with these two.

No, really—he doesn’t remember when. All Xue Yang knows is that the Heavens have decreed these two belong with each other and no one shall stop them. The Heavens are also stupid, to be matchmaking a dragon and a human.

What a fucking lovely pair these two are.

They’re already in love, which completes his first step of getting them together. Now, all Xue Yang has to do is to get them to actually be together.

Except that’s definitely not a hard task at all.

These two seem to be conspiring against him. Like, look at them, talking to each other in low voices and glancing towards him. What the fuck did he do wrong, to manage to get them to keep looking at him instead of each other?

Clearly, this is a matchmaking session in hell.

“Are you two fucking done staring?” Xue Yang snaps, and Xiao Xingchen smiles at him. His skin ripples silver for a moment before the two stop and turn towards him.

Are they reading each other’s minds? That would make his work so much more easier.

“My apologies for riling you up, Xue Yang,” Xiao Xingchen says softly, a contrast to the dangerous look in his eyes. This is a dragon who’s looking for a snack, and Xue Yang would not like to be a snack yet, thank you. “We were wondering if you would like to go to a nearby market today?”

“I need a fucking drink, if that’s what you’re asking me,” Xue Yang says stiffly. “So fuck yes, please lead the fucking way. I don’t want to see you give each other moony eyes.”

“Mn,” is all Song Lan says. “So we will get an inn room for the night and explore the market tomorrow.”

“Wait a fucking second, where did that plan come from–“

“Oh yes,” Xiao Xingchen agrees. “It is nearly sunset.”

Xue Yang has to look up to the sky to check. It’s still sun high. What the fuck is wrong with these two right now?

“I’m sure there’s only going to be one bed, so I suggest we share,” Xiao Xingchen suggests brightly. Are they drunk? They’re clearly drunk. Or stupid. Or crazy. Or all three. He ignores the way his heart seems to be jumping in his chest.

“Why am I surrounded by idiots?” Xue Yang asks the skies above his head. “Why do you shitty people have to send me down here to deal with fucking idiots to matchmake?”

Obviously, there’s no answer, but Xue Yang wishes he is in the Heavens right now, screaming at the one who set him up like this. Oh, how he wishes.

[myakkoh]

silent serenade - Chapter 1

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Perhaps, Lan Qiren reflects bitterly as he stares down at the gupin on his lap, presses his lips together. Perhaps he has the worst luck of a Lan.

The memory of warm hands around him flashes through his mind, and Lan Qiren breathes through his hesitation. There’s a delicate comb made of bone in front of him, a courting gift from his dead lover. The man always told him with a soft smile how much the comb reminds him of Lan Qiren.

Steadies his hands over the silk strings, closes his eyes, breathes. Then Lan Qiren settles his fingers over where the first notes of Inquiry will ring through the air. Another moment of hesitation, one fleeting moment of his heart tightening in an invisible fist.

He plays.

Qi warmly hums under his fingers as he strums the first few sequences of Inquiry, watches as a soul slowly forms in front of him. Hardened amber eyes meet his own, before they soften and his breath hitches from how peaceful the soul seems.

“Qiuheng,” he whispers as he finishes the last of Inquiry, then hurriedly strums the name of his dead lover.

Qiren, Nie Qiuheng returns on the gupin, an exasperated smile tugging on ghostly lips. Why have you called me?

He can never lie, doesn’t want to lie, and Lan Qiren strums his first question. Please, help me.  

Nie Qiuheng brushes a hand across his fingers and he shudders from the cold it brings. How he wants to be in the embrace of his dead lover again, to know that he’s safe, alive, someone who won’t succumb to madness. Someone who loves him.

And Lan Qiren is lucky, to be able to fall in love twice.

Always, Nie Qiuheng promises, and Lan Qiren cannot help but wish for another chance.

[myakkoh]

silent serenade - Chapter 2

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Nie Qiuheng has never wished to see his lover in front of him, crying out for him in his sleep with sobs and murmurs. He never wished to bring such pain to him.

He brushes a hand across Lan Qiren’s cheek, feels choked as the man’s murmurs subside, leaning into his cold hand. Cannot speak to him, cannot tell him that everything will be alright, because it’s not.

It’s not fair to Lan Qiren if he lies. Their children, their children, are still suffering, the way he never wished on them either. Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen, and Lan Wangji have each other’s companionship, with only Lan Qiren as their sole parent figure now.

It’s not fair to them. It’s not fair to Lan Qiren. He’s supposed to be there for them, guiding Nie Mingjue on how to become a Sect Leader, supposed to watch Huaisang flourish with his talismans. Supposed to watch Lan Xichen succeed with his musical cultivation, and see Lan Wangji’s eyes widen with wonder when playing the gupin.

They are supposed to have that, but it’s far too late for it now.

“Qiuheng,” Lan Qiren whispers, heavy in sleep, and Nie Qiuheng brushes his hair out of the way of seeing him. 

His sons, Lan Qiren’s nephews, they will survive, though. Nie Qiuheng will be there for them, in his current form, there for them to tell him all their worries and troubles. Feels a flicker of rage that Wen Ruohan killed him, because now Lan Qiren and their children are alone.

But they won’t be, because Nie Qiuheng is there now.

Qiren, he thinks and bends down to press ghostly lips on his lover’s forehead. Lan Qiren sighs in his sleep and shifts. Qiren, live. Live for me and the children. Live for us.

[myakkoh]

Match Made in Heaven (If Heaven was a Jester’s Court) - Chapter 2

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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“I need a drink,” Xue Yang announces.

“You don’t need one,” Song Lan tells him and continues to polish his sword.

“You two are idiots.”

“So are you.”

“You’re even worse than me.” Xue Yang gestures to the sleeping Xiao Xingchen. “If you didn’t realize, you both are idiots. I’m too sober to deal with this.”

“Are you not a god?”

“What god? Clearly, I cannot be a god if you two won’t even admit to each other! Like fuck! Even my job to force Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian together was easier than this!”

“... what.”

“... you did not fucking hear a single shit and word I fucking said, got it?”

[myakkoh]

Match Made in Heaven (If Heaven was a Jester’s Court) - Chapter 4

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Xue Yang wants a drink. There’s only one room, one bed, and three of them.

For the Jade Emperor’s sake, Xue Yang thinks as he tries not to scowl. It fails, but it’s enough to drag Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen’s attention to him. Clearly, these two don’t know how to take a hint to be alone.

“Are you two fucking serious?” he hisses as he spins around to furiously glare at them. “There’s only one fucking bed!”

“I see no issues with it,” Song Lan says smoothly.

He needs to break this stupid human’s nose. Actually he shouldn’t, otherwise Xiao Xingchen might transform into a dragon and kill him. He doesn’t want to get killed yet, thank you very much.

“Would you like to take the window, Song Lan?” Xiao Xingchen gently asks, seemingly ignorant of his stewing anger. “Xue Yang can be in the centre, and I’ll stay by the side of the bed.”

No, no, no, this is not part of the plan. The plan is to get these two to  sleep together, not include him in their sleeping arrangement. Xue Yang feels like screaming.

He’ll scream later.

Instead of refusing, he opens his big, fat mouth to say, “Yeah, fine, sure, whatever the fuck you want, you idiots.” 

Why did he have to say that?

Xiao Xingchen beams, a ripple of silver scales gleaming in the evening light across his skin. “Wonderful! I will go get dinner!”

The dragon immediately leaves the room, and Xue Yang turns to find Song Lan staring at him with slight interest. “Whatever the fuck you’re thinking about right now and involving me,” Xue Yang says, “I will fucking murder you.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t dare,” Song Lan says blandly, like a liar.

He needs twelve drinks to deal with this shit.

[myakkoh]

Match Made in Heaven (If Heaven was a Jester’s Court) - Chapter 1

(Read on Ao3 here!)

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Xue Yang is a god.

No, he’s not the type of god to go prancing around with shit. Unluckily, and to his fucking luck, he’s a matchmaker. The god of love. Seriously, Xue Yang has shrines dedicated to him.

This time, this time, though, when he got another match to make, he was staring at two cultivators’ names; Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. Which—he’s pretty sure Xiao Xingchen is a dragon.

Dragons are possessive.

Dragons are loyal to their one mate.

Dragons have fated ones.

Fuck, Xue Yang needs a drink, somewhere to fucking hide, and possibly scream. He needs someone to hide him, but he has a fucking job to do.

Perhaps, Xue Yang should have paid attention and noticed his own name under theirs. Then maybe he wouldn’t have made this much of a mistake, and maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

Which is being cuddled by said two cultivators.

Xue Yang would like another drink, please. He’s too sober to deal with this shit.

[ladyteldra]

Definitely my fault and I have zero regrets.

Into the Stars (I Didn’t Mean To)

[AKA; WTF IS A GALAXY]

(Read here on Ao3!)

So before we get into this, you may blame @ladyteldra for this prompt, which was JC falling into Mace Windu’s lap. Literally.

Please thank @nillegible for her subtitle and the fact of this is apparently going to be the first of so many more dimensional travelling things! And without further ado, please enjoy!

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Jiang Cheng would like to say this is none of his fault to begin with.

Keep reading