#mingjue cameo

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

High school, classmates- jealousy

Nhs has crush on meng yao. Before my and nmj become friends. He uses their friendship to get meng yaos attention. But no matter what he does he never get any friendly shoulder pat, head pats from meng yao that his brother get a tons of.

I think I got this a little confused, but I hope it's still good.

----------

Zhou Sang could admit he wasn't the best at socializing. Hard as he tried, most of the time he found himself surrounded by people who wanted things from him or wanted him to entertain them, not people who wanted to be his friend.

But he'd thought Shun Yao was different. The older boy had been rather standoffish at first, true, but they'd wound up working together on festivals and such so many times that Zhou Sang was sure they were becoming friends.

In fact, they were getting along so well that Zhou Sang found himself hoping... that maybe...

Well.

There was one oddity in their burgeoning relationship, but he didn't mind it. If Shun Yao avoided touching or being touched, it was fine! Everyone had their boundaries, and Zhou Sang didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

And then, one day when he was running late leaving his last class to meet up with Da-ge, he happened to notice a familiar figure walk up to where his brother was waiting at the gate.

Huh... since when did his brother and Shun Yao know each other?

Curiosity piqued, he laid his schoolbag back down and moved closer to the window-

-just in time to see Shun Yao pat Zhou Jue on the arm and Zhou Jue give him a playful shove back, both of them laughing about something he couldn't hear.

Zhou Sang felt like he was going to throw up.

All this time, he'd thought- he'd thought-

Had Shun Yao only been humoring a request from Da-ge from the beginning? Had that been why-?

Forcibly swallowing the burning feeling that was rising up in the back of his throat, he turned and dug his phone out of his bag.

'Forgot about a club meeting today. See you at home later!' he texted, sending it off before realizing he hadn't included any of his usual emojis.

It didn't seem to matter.

After some more talking, his brother and Shun Yao walked away together.

And he went to go find somewhere no one would see him have a breakdown.

---

Over the course of several lifetimes, Shun Yao had come to realize that if he crossed paths with people he'd known before, there was always an element of fate to it.

So when one of his fellow upperclassmen introduced him to the artist for the school's fall festival posters, he had held it together long enough to bow in greeting and get to work.

It had only taken him a short time to establish that, like most of the others he had met from that first life, Zhou Sang remembered nothing.

And yet the way he behaved was so painfully similar to that of the young master he'd once accompanied to the lectures for gentry sect juniors.

It was a familiarity he couldn't allow himself to get caught up in, or else-

He should have known that where one brother went, so the other wold follow. But when Zhou Jue had showed up on the school grounds to pick up Zhou Sang, and had ended up chasing off some delinquent students harassing Shun Yao, he had still been caught off guard.

Perhaps it was the fact that, unlike his little brother, Zhou Jue was not a mirror image of his past self. Not being forced too early into the position of caring for an entire sect or preparing for a war looming ahead had clearly done him a world of good, as Zhou Jue laughed far more easily and carried much less weight on his shoulders than Nie Mingjue had.

His easygoing, extroverted demeanor was much more appealing to his sensibilities than that of the staunch cultivator he'd once known, and Shun Yao found himself enjoying when they could talk.

Their rekindled-newfound friendship was going so well, in fact, that he didn't notice at first that he'd been seeing much less of Zhou Sang.

Not until Zhou Sang was absent for a planning meeting for the next school event. Even if he didn't care about the actual subject, he always jumped at the chance to be on the decorating committee, since it would give him more to add to his painting portfolio. For him to just not show up at all...

The meeting concluded before the bell rang for the next class, so, acting on a hunch, Shun Yao headed for the art room.

"-ly got sick of your personality," he heard an unfamiliar voice say just as his hand touched the knob to the sliding door.

"What the hell, man?" another voice snapped.

"What? It's true! They're like night and day, so if the guy's hanging out with his brother-"

"Still, you don't just say that!"

He pushed the door open just enough to see into the room. Two boys he didn't recognize were bickering, seemingly so deep in their sniping back and forth that they had completely forgotten the subject of their argument, who was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest under one of the room's windows.

The pair arguing didn't even notice him as they approached the door, and he quickly stood aside to let them pass.

Then he slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

Zhou Sang didn't look up, clearly having expected to be left behind as soon as the argument started.

The expression on his face was... well. He had seen it before, like everything else about Zhou Sang. But, rather than making him nervously uncomfortable as he had been previously, it made his heart ache.

Because those other boys had to have meant him.

When they had first met, he had assumed Zhou Sang had a lot of friends. No longer living in a martial sect with all that entailed, surely he would have been able to attract friends as easy as breathing.

For his distance and neglect to have hurt this much... clearly that wasn't the case.

And, really, were Zhou Sang's familiar quirks so bad? He had loved them once, and the boy they were attached to.

All things considered... this was also a second chance, like the one he'd been given with Zhou Jue.

Did he really want to squander it?

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he went to crouch in front of Zhou Sang, and when the other boy raised his head warily, he smiled and offered a hand.

"Hi. Can we start over?"

Zhou Sang looked at his outstretched hand, and Shun Yao could practically see him calculating whether or not he should risk his heart again.

Then... Slowly, hesitantly, Zhou Sang took it. "Okay."

[eastofakkala]

for 3zun:

Who sleeps in the middle?

Who proposes?

Oooooh, the OT3.

I bet Lan Xichen sleeps in the middle. Why? Because that means he can be the big spoon and the little spoon at the same time. Also, it's just that neither of the other two particularly want to. Nie Mingjue runs warm and overheats when he's at the center, while Meng Yao is afraid of being squished.

As for who proposes, none of them do. Lan Qiren has a meeting with them one day and informs them that they should get married, as they obviously make each other very happy. They can plan it or he will.

(For Xichen, who'd been afraid that his family wouldn't accept his courting two people, it is one of the best days of his life).

[fallloverfic]

TGCF donghua Season 2, Episode 10 thoughts

This episode T-T T-T T-T T-T. Spoilers for the show and the book below. CW reference to suicide.

The dude being racist to An Le looks vaguely like a love child of Feng Xin and Nie Mingjue (the donghua version) roflmao. Animators have made little references to The Scum Villain's Self Saving System this season so I would not be surprised if someone snuck in a reference to the Mo Dao Zu Shi donghua, too lol And this is similar enough to at least one Meng Yao + Nie Mingjue scene that I can see why they'd do it here.

So the Xianle goons licking their lips is because, I imagine, whatever was in that pouch Qi Rong brought An Le infected them or maybe it was these actual soldiers or something. Makes it less mmm... Strange. Having seen recordings of an attempted assault on a principal government building with government officials inside and what bloodthirsty folks bent on literal murder of said officials get up to around that, I mean I guess it's not that..... strange......

Someone here let me know that the servant/friend is the same official from S02E01 who ran past Xie Lian to help Lang Qianqiu, which makes sense! I totally forgot he showed up then and wondered after S02E07 if he was An Le acting funny (though by the end of S02E09 he is clearly not). He does show up in the novel in that S02E01 scene, but he's not named so far as I can tell, and I don't think we see him in Yong'an flashbacks like we do here. It's neat to see the development of this side character, and how some officials reward people who support them in life (besides Xie Lian and Yin Yu).

Xie Lian seeing the guy nervously looking for Lang Qianqiu and then being like: -sigh- young love is such a trial. You should spend more time studying the blade!

Oh shit, we get a preview of Xie Lian's parents' suicide. Wow. Will we get the donghua that far please T-T

I'm just in love with Fangxin's cape. It's so beautiful trailing behind him.

I'm sorry but An Le screaming in the same way Nakahara Chuuya does whenever he's mid-Corruption in Bungo Stray Dogs made me laugh so hard roflmao Unexpected (and likely unintentional) cameo lol

Imma keep saying it, the animation in this episode is really good. The fight scene is wonderful. When they go back to Qi Rong cackling is good. The show is just pretty.

Qi Rong: "Why is everyone here so fond of crying!"

This man is tired. Can't you do a little mass murder and gloating in peace? Honestly. Hard times.

Qi Rong: "You want your parents? I haven't gone asking for mine yet!"

Aw Qi Rong, babe...

Qi Rong got anime slashed. Who could have foreseen??? /end sarcasm

Xie Lian having a sad moment about Qi Rong, thinking he died. I'm wondering what the crying scene is from, or if that's something new. Qi Rong did cry I think in one flashback (I think where he's complaining about something) but this looked sadder? And less "spoiled".

Xie Lian sadly reaching out for Lang Qianqiu T-T

Xie Lian: "Is the truth so important? . . . What's the use of him knowing that? If I killed a few less people, would that make my reasons more justified?"

I really do love this so much. Just... sometimes the truth isn't important. Sometimes the truth is more painful/results in a worse outcome. Being bluntly honest isn't always the answer. You could argue that Xie Lian sacrificing himself isn't the answer either, and it's better overall that Lang Qianqiu knows things, but I love how this story brings up this idea, that maybe ignorance was better. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and Xie Lian did still intentionally murder two people, as part of a cover-up.

Also, "You'd rather be right than be loved," is something I think about a lot from personal experience. It's not Hua Cheng's intention, but this kind of thinking can lead down that path so easily.

Hua Cheng really feeling that "fucked around and found out" part of this whole thing. Like I don't necessarily disagree with his goal here, and Xie Lian's plan is kind of well... imperfect (to put it lightly). But I do think this is a nice moment of Hua Cheng realizing that yes, he is Xie Lian's #1 fan, he is Xie Lian's strongest believer, and Xie Lian clearly cares deeply for him in return, but this does not mean that Hua Cheng understands Xie Lian perfectly, or knows all his thoughts (does Hua Cheng know a lot about him? Yes. But Xie Lian hides a lot of what he thinks, and has done so throughout his life). When thinking about Hua Cheng, I often think of Sosuke Aizen's line in Bleach chapter 170: "Admiration is the state furthest from understanding."

Unlike other people, Hua Cheng sets himself apart by not forcing his views on Xie Lian or trying to get Xie Lian to change to suit him, and he's realizing, "Oh shit, I fucked up with that here, didn't I," because in his quest for justice, to protect Xie Lian, he did just what he hates other people doing (to an extent, it's not nearly as bad as other folks). One thing I love so much about their relationship is how much they listen to each other, and learn from each other, and how Hua Cheng tries to see Xie Lian in ways other people don't. Even here, he's seeing Xie Lian (I really love that they focused so much on Hua Cheng's expressions here, even if he's not visually doing as much as Xie Lian, it's the little clear signs of upset that mean so much). He's not interrupting Xie Lian, he's not arguing his case (though to be fair, he already mostly has). He's trying to learn and be better. They recover from this because of that. And I love that about them.

Xie Lian: "I deserve whatever punishment I get and I can't die anyway. So why not put all the blame on me?"

T-T Crying in the club, folks. This man...

Xie Lian realizing he's being mean to Hua Cheng and apologizing got me T-T He's so scared of himself and what he's capable of - and incapable of, given all his work to try and save lives and mend old anger has come to naught, and he can't fix it. He always doubts himself before others. The scars of Bai Wuxiang are all over this episode, and Xie Lian himself, figuratively and literally. All this episode I cry T-T

Xie Lian's Chinese voice actor has done such a good job. Everyone is amazing (Qi Rong's VA doing amazing), but dang, he is phenomenal this episode. You can really feel Xie Lian's desperation and sorrow.

All in all the subs were also better this episode! They still call Qi Rong the "Green Immor" for some reason, but outside maybe one slightly awkward sentence, I think it was okay! But that doesn't necessarily mean anything cause they've been good and then got worse again lol

An excellent episode. Truly phenomenal. I think one of my favorites, particularly for this ending bit with Xie Lian and Hua Cheng talking to each other.

Other episode thoughts for season 2 (didn't start till episode 3):

S02E03

S02E04

S02E05

S02E06

S02E07

S02E08

S02E09

S02E10 (you are here)

S02E11

S02E12

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

You're Safe Here

@polyshipweek 2023 Day 2 - Missing Scene

I left a cameo of 3zun in the epilogue of 'The Sculptor' that I feel like deserves to be expanded on, so I thought I'd give y'all a few scenes of their first couple of meetings.

TW for mentions of police violence against a gay OC (it doesn't happen on-screen, but both Meng Yao and Lan Xichen recall the event and its aftermath in conversation as a significant plot point). Also, as in the main fic, this is not a perfect world without homophobia, so there's a bit of that as well (i.e. I tagged for 'Period-typical attitudes' and 'Period-typical homophobia' on ao3, though it's also only discussed and not shown outright).

It's fluffier than it sounds I swear lol, and we already know that their story also ends happily thanks to that mention in the epilogue.

--//--

Xichen meets Mingjue first.

He tells himself that it’s research.

He nearly convinces himself that it’s research.

Xichen is a well-seasoned veteran in his field. Sure, he hasn’t been a lawyer for nearly as long as many of his peers, but he’s had a robust career so far, and it’s preceded by many years of job shadowing at his Uncle’s side, first, and then years of internships throughout university – and those not just at the family firm, either, though that first round of experience had certainly helped get his foot in the door elsewhere. In the world of law he thinks it would be difficult to find anyone in his position (especially at his age) who didn’t get there at least in part through nepotism, but such is the way of things.

He's earned a good reputation for himself anyway, completely irrespective of his family name, and it’s one that he’s quite proud of even if it makes things…taxing, sometimes.

Xichen is well known for his delicate and respectful handling of particularly sensitive cases, and it’s a responsibility that he takes seriously. People of all sorts come to him to rely on his discretion, his tact, his ability to put himself in anyone’s shoes and approach their case with a sympathetic ear. His latest case had taken quite a toll, in that regard, but it had taken until it was over and won for him to realize why this victory feels sweeter than so many others.

Something about it all hit closer to home than he would have ever expected, or perhaps been willing to admit.

So.

Xichen goes to the place where his client was arrested and unjustly assaulted by police officers, and he tells himself that he only wants to get a feel for how his client had been deceived that night. (He only half-believes himself.)

“You’re new,” a gruff voice says from a cut of shadow. Xichen blinks to try to clear his eyes of the way the streetlight nearby is blinding him, but in the end it takes the man pushing off the wall and into the light for Xichen to know just where to look to address his reply.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Xichen replies to the absolute bear of a man who emerges, lit cigarette hanging from his mouth under a truly impressive mustache, his white tank top doing very little to contain his well-muscled, hair-dark chest (and, as it’s designed to do, absolutely nothing at all to contain his heavily-tattooed arms that are equally as impressive). “I’m just..having a look around?”

The man raises a brow at him and exhales smoke from his nose on a sigh.

“We don’t really take kindly to that, just so you know. Gawking’s not really the name of the game around here.”

Ah. Yes. Xichen had…been warned about that. It’s part of why his own excuse is a bit harder to buy than he’d like.

“Right…” he trails off and glances around, though if anyone else around has noticed he’s in need of some help, they’re not really showing it. There aren’t many people around to begin with, though – he’d come out on a Wednesday night, hardly ‘peak season’ as it were, but there’s enough of a crowd for him to know he’s in the right place anyway.

When he looks back at his unexpected conversational partner it’s to find the man slowly starting to grin, sharp and wicked around his cigarette glowing orange, the tiny light of it catching and cupping in a dimple nearly hidden under that mustache.

“You seem nice, so I’ll save you a bit of panic. I’m not cruising either, I’m here to keep a look out for the people who are so they can focus on what they’re doing. You can stand here and nobody’ll bother you, okay? I won’t even make a pass at you, I swear.”

Xichen flushes warm and he hopes that the yellow, monochrome glow of the street lamp hides it well enough.

“Ah…thank you, that’s very kind of you,” he says perhaps a little awkwardly. The man saves him by dusting off one massive hand on his jeans before he holds it out for Xichen to shake, which he does entirely on instinct.

“I’m Mingjue,” the man offers while Xichen is trying very hard not to think about how big and warm and rough his hand is curled around his.

“Xichen,” he offers, going still when Mingjue’s eyes narrow ever so slightly.

“Lan Xichen?”

“Ah..”

“Gotta be, can’t be many Xichens around town, and definitely not ones who’d know to come here. I’ll bet my last $10 you’re the lawyer who just won Danny Boy’s case for him.”

Xichen, wary of discussing any of his clients but particularly his most recent, can only fidget as he tries unsuccessfully to come up with a convincing lie.

Mingjue squints at him for a moment, his grin fading into something a little softer around the edges. “Hey, chill out man. I’m serious, no one’s going to hurt you around here. Danny only got nabbed because I wasn’t here that night to chase off the fuzz, and you representing him earned you a lot of favors with this crowd. Alright? You’re safe here.”

Xichen will never know exactly what it is about Mingjue that makes him believe him, but those three magic words, ‘You’re safe here’, feel like they take far more weight off his shoulders than just the fear that he’ll be caught cruising for other men (which he isn’t even here to do!).

He glances around again, for what he isn’t sure. He catches a glimpse of a couple of guys disappearing around the bend of the pedestrian path in the park across the street, a few more hanging out on the low wall around some brick building Xichen doesn’t know the purpose of, chatting and laughing. He watches a beer get passed around, sips taken between laughs like indirect kisses, mouth-bottle-mouth. There are others like Mingjue, just hanging out on their own having a cigarette or a drink, bodies casually on display with the sort of confidence Lan Xichen can only envy.

There’s a sense of…camaraderie under the edge of a sexual charge.

When he looks at Mingjue again the man’s watching him, eyes dark and thoughtful in the moment before he slips back into shadow, leaning against his wall. He takes a drag off his cigarette, the extra burn glinting for a moment off that dark, assessing gaze. A spark that fizzles into ash with his next exhale.

Xichen crosses the couple of feet of pavement between them to lean against the wall beside him, a respectful distance between his shirtsleeve and Mingjue’s bare arm.

“Want a light?” Mingjue asks, holding a fresh cigarette into the space between them.

“Ah..no, thank you though.”

Mingjue snorts and slides the cigarette up behind his ear. Now that Xichen has joined him in the shadows he’s easier to see, the streetlamp no longer blinding him. He looks perfectly at ease like this, even as Xichen spots the shine of brass knuckles on the hand he’s using to pluck his cigarette from his lips to talk.

“You’re better off that way, it’s a nasty habit. I always told my brother growing up I’d better not ever catch him smoking or I’d kill him myself, then what do I do? Let my pretty little boyfriend talk me into picking it up, the snake.”

Xichen, thoroughly out of his depth but…bemused, asks, “Did he have an easy time talking you into it?”

Mingjue snorts again, grinning in the second before he takes another drag.

“We’d just started dating, right, and I told him I don’t care if he smokes but I don’t want to, and he got it no problem, said he’d tried quitting a few times before too, but it never stuck. Then one night we’re out with some friends from around here and he looks at me – he’s got these big dark eyes and the longest lashes you’ve ever seen – and he asks me so sweetly if I’d light his cigarette off one in my mouth. Hot as fuck when you’re half-drunk and thinking this guy’s the best thing to ever happen to you, so I say yes and then it became a thing. And all he ever wanted me to do is light his, that’s it, but, well. Here I am. I still light his with mine though, so as usual: he wins.”

Xichen laughs a little and tries to imagine it, finding someone – another man, even – alluring enough to go along with such a proposition. He’s never really had a reason to think about it before, but picturing it he can see the appeal. The intimacy of it, anyway, is something he could certainly imagine himself craving. Perhaps not…quite like that. But he gets it.

“He must have quite some eyes, then,” is all he can think of to say, but it makes Mingjue laugh as he flicks his cigarette butt to the ground and snuffs it under the heel of his boot.

“Yeah he’s a keeper, damn him,” Mingjue sighs. “But come on, what’s your story then?”

Xichen blinks at that and finds his mind has suddenly gone blank. His story? Does he…have one of those? It seems so…mundane, his life so far. Surely it wouldn’t be interesting to someone like Mingjue. Someone with a boyfriend. Someone with a boyfriend he clearly cares for but who hangs out where guys go cruising anyway all night long, just to run off the cops. Someone with tattoos down his arms and a cigarette tucked behind his ear, brass knuckles on his thick fingers.

“I’m not quite sure I’ve got one,” Xichen says, because he truly doesn’t know what else to say. It seems safest to not open that door anyway. He doesn’t want to examine what might be behind it.

Mingjue turns his head to look at him, their heights perfectly matched despite the way he feels like Mingjue has a much larger presence than Xichen himself ever has. “Nah, everyone’s got something to tell. I know you do, too; doesn’t have to be your whole life, Xichen. Maybe start with what you came here looking for – everyone’s looking for something, whether they know it or not.”

Xichen swallows thickly and looks out into the street again. In the alley across the way he sees, through the shadows, a man on his knees in front of another with his head tipped back to bare his neck. They’re barely shapes in the darkness, nigh on undetectable had he not accidentally looked right at them and spotted the pattern of recognizable shapes the pair of them make. Even though it makes his entire face and neck burn he can’t seem to tear his eyes away again.

He sucks a deep breath in and says, eyes still trained on the pair in the alley, “I wanted to see what was here that was worth getting arrested for.”

Mingjue hums in what sounds like understanding. Xichen exhales shakily as he hears the scratch of a match being struck, the smell of it tickling his nose even before it’s followed up with fresh smoke from Mingjue’s next cigarette.

“I want…” He trails off into nothing.

What does he want? It’s not a question he asks himself very often, and one he answers even less so. That’s not really ever been…an option. There are things he needs. There are things he does. There aren’t many things he wants.

Mingjue takes a drag off his new cigarette and hums again, prompting.

“I want to know what else is out there,” he finally decides. “I just..I wanted to know.”

Mingjue nods and tells him, “Yeah. I get that.”

In the alley, Xichen watches the man on his knees stand up to kiss his partner like they’re the only two people in the world, and something in his chest clenches.

--//--

Xichen meets A-Yao second.

After that first night, he’d told himself he wouldn’t go back. It hadn’t been exactly pleasant, no one would think it strange if he didn’t go back. His clothes reeked of Mingjue’s cigarettes, and the balmy night had left him feeling too sticky and out-of-sorts to go to bed until he’d relented and taken a shower.

And he’d stood there under the water, and leaned back against the tile, and thought about what it might feel like to be rucked up against a wall in a dark alley with a man on his knees in front of him. Or Mingjue leaning in close enough to touch the tip of a cigarette against one in his mouth. Or sharing that single bottle of beer that he’d seen the group passing around, lips pressed to where lips had been mere moments before. Would it feel different? Would it taste different? He’s never had beer before but would he like it if other men had taken swigs of it first, left their kisses behind for him to taste?

He'd stood up straight with a jolt and spent the rest of his shower breathing carefully through the shock of cold water pouring over him to help clear his head.

So he wasn’t going to go back.

But Mingjue had told him that Wednesdays are too quiet, and if he wants to know he needs to come back at the weekend.

“Friday nights are hopping,” he’d said around midnight with a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t hardly move without getting at least a look, if not an offer. You want to know what’s worth it? That’s the night to check it out.”

On Friday evening after a too-long day, Xichen turns down an invitation to go out for an evening of schmoozing and social climbing at a bar near the firm with some of the other partners and heads home instead. When he changes out of his work clothes, he reaches for the soft pajamas he always wears – and then without consciously deciding to do so, he’s striding into his closet to find anything to wear that would possibly be…interesting. Anything that might make him seem like less of an outsider.

By 10 – horribly late by his standards – he’s got his hands tucked into the pockets of jeans he hardly ever wears and he strides with a false bravado into the area ‘everyone’ knows you don’t step foot in past dusk if you know what’s good for you.

He finds Mingjue standing at the same wall, in the same shadow, cigarette glowing between his lips and brass knuckles once again on his fist.

This time, there’s a tiny Asian guy tucked under his arm, nearly hidden by Mingjue’s bulk, and when he turns his head to watch his approach Xichen thinks:

Oh. Eyes.

“Mingjue, is this your new friend?” he purrs. Something about the way he says it makes Xichen feel like he’s done…something, or maybe that’s just guilt for the fact that his dreams for the last two nights had smushed Wednesday’s snapshots together and put Mingjue on his knees with his mouth full of Xichen’s cock. He’d woken up hard as a rock.

That can’t possibly be okay.

He isn’t thinking about it.

“Xichen,” Mingjue greets, warmer than his greeting that first night but still gruff around the edges. “This is A-Yao. A-Yao, Lan Xichen, Danny’s miracle lawyer.”

“Just Xichen is fine, there’s no need for any of the rest of it,” he says with a smile as he reaches them. He doesn’t want to be ‘Lan Xichen the lawyer’ here, to them, though he isn’t thinking about why that might be, either. “Is this the infamous boyfriend who can charm one into picking up smoking?”

“Ugh,” A-Yao scoffs, turning his head to glare up at Mingjue who’s grinning around his cigarette again. “I hate that you tell that story, you make it sound like I forced you!”

“I do not! I tell it exactly like it happened!”

Xichen clears his throat delicately. “I got the impression, rather, that you didn’t pressure him at all, but that he finds you impossible to resist and so ended up falling into a habit that supports yours, simply because it’ll make you happy.”

A-Yao looks up at him again, an incredulous little smile on his lips, and this close Xichen is in a position to think:

Oh. Eyelashes.

“Mmm lawyers and your quicksilver tongues,” A-Yao smiles, “Finally, someone I can talk to properly.”

Xichen ducks his head to hide a smile of his own when Mingjue snorts and jostles A-Yao under his arm a little as he says, “Don’t be rude, A-Yao,” without any heat behind it.

“I don’t want to intrude on your evening so I’ll just – ” Xichen starts, taking a half-step back towards the curb. A car passes on the road behind him, music on and windows down as they roll far too slowly along the avenue. Xichen turns his head to investigate, only to realize that this is the actual, literal ‘cruising’ part of the slang when he spots a couple of guys leaning out of the windows, a few of the men standing around offering them long glances that promise more.

“Ohh,” A-Yao says quietly, like a dawning realization. “Come here baby, come stand with me. Mingjue said you just want to see what it’s like around here?”

Xichen, reeling from the fact that A-Yao had apparently called him ‘baby’, finds he can only nod a little helplessly.

“That’s alright,” A-Yao tells him, so soft Xichen can’t help but believe him. “You can watch if that’s all you want to do, no one’ll bother you if you’re with us. You’re not interrupting anything, we’re just watching too. Come on, don’t be shy. You’re with us for the night.”

Xichen swallows and looks at the pair of them again, tucked so comfortably out of the way. Tucked up comfortably together, so obviously a package deal. They’re both watching him with looks he isn’t going to analyze. A-Yao leans a little more into Mingjue’s space, laying his head against his boyfriend’s chest, and Mingjue plucks the cigarette from his mouth to hold it down for A-Yao to take a drag off of.

Mouth-paper-mouth.

Xichen thinks he maybe gets the appeal of smoking a little more.

He crosses the pavement to turn and stand next to them on A-Yao’s other side, and A-Yao turns fully to rest his back against Mingjue’s side, the man’s enormous arm wrapped across his chest like a sash to keep holding him close while A-Yao tips his head to the side, looking up at Xichen like he’s a puzzle to be solved.

“I’d ask you what your story is but Mingjue already warned me you don’t like that,” A-Yao says after his moment of contemplation (in which Xichen hopes he wasn’t judged too harshly). “So, just Xichen – how are you?”

He asks it so sincerely, so kindly, not like he wants a standard water cooler answer but like he wants to know. Xichen hopes the shadow they’re standing in hides the way his eyes are suddenly stinging and he can’t see more than a wobbly outline of A-Yao reaching up to steal Mingjue’s cigarette from his lips for another drag.

“I’m alright,” he manages to answer. And it’s true. He’s fine.

He’s good.

He’s alright.

“You’re a shit liar, Xichen,” Mingjue tells him, and somewhere in the middle of Xichen’s answering laugh it turns into a sob.

--//--

“Get him some water, Mingjue, will you?” A-Yao requests as the door to their third-floor walkup (just a block over from the cruising spot) slams shut behind them, making Xichen jump. “Sorry, forgot to warn you it does that,” A-Yao sighs with a pat to his arm. “You just get used to it eventually, even if you don’t ever think you will.”

“It’s alright. You really don’t need to do this –” he starts. Mingjue comes back out of the kitchen with a glass of water in hand and raises an eyebrow at A-Yao dropped to his knees on the carpet to unlace his shoes. Not his own shoes. Xichen’s.

He’s very determinedly not thinking about the men in the alley (they’d been back for a repeat performance tonight, or else someone else had had the exact same idea in the same spot).

“A-Yao don’t smother him.”

“I’m not, and you’re worried about him too so don’t give me any sass,” A-Yao tosses back over his shoulder. Xichen meets Mingjue’s eyes, pleading for help, but receives nothing more than a shrug with a sort of ‘what can you do’ look on his handsome face, bottom lip pouting out from under his mustache. “And grab him the blanket off the bed!” A-Yao adds towards Mingjue’s retreating back.

“Really, I’m fine –”

“Xichen, you just broke down crying because I asked you how you are. It’s okay, we’re just going to get you some water and a quiet spot to sit down for a while, and when you’re calmer you can go if you want to.”

Xichen blushes (the recap of what’s probably one of the most embarrassing moments of his life was wholly unnecessary) and concedes that A-Yao is going to accomplish whatever it is he wants to, and it’s probably better to just go along with it. He slips out of his shoes when he feels coaxing hands on his ankles. A-Yao sets the wingtips aside on the rack inside the door before shepherding him further into the tiny apartment.

It's a chaotic mess, dark wood paneling and strange paintings on the walls, orange carpet with a pea-soup green throw rug over most of it in the living room that seems to double as a dining room as well. The couch matches the rug, the drapes don’t match anything at all, and Xichen feels more at home in the middle of all of it than he ever has in his own apartment.

Mingjue reappears from what Xichen assumes is their bedroom with a loudly-patterned throw blanket in his hands, frowning in thought as he attempts to find the long side by spreading it corner to corner, and then again on the next side.

“Here, sit down,” A-Yao coaxes to plonk him down right in the center of the couch. The water Mingjue had fetched for him is on the coffee table (it’s also wood but not a shade that matches the wall panels at all) amongst a few scattered papers and magazines he doesn’t recognize. The second he leans forward to pick up the glass, Mingjue tosses the blanket around his shoulders for A-Yao to pull tighter around him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a few sips of water, feeling contrite. Mingjue sits down in an arm chair caddy-corner to the sofa (it’s mustard yellow, unlike anything else in the room) and lets A-Yao sit down in his lap with all the ease of a couple who have done so a thousand times.

Xichen’s chest clenches again and he rubs his hand over his sternum automatically, trying to relieve the ache.

He continues, “I don’t know why that…that happened. I’ll be out of your hair soon and then you can go back to your nice evening, I really don’t want to intrude.”

A-Yao watches him with those wide, dark eyes of his, assessing. Mingjue looks up at his boyfriend but says nothing, and Xichen wonders just what it is that they must think of him, showing up out of nowhere to gawk at them and their friends only to break down crying when asked how he is. He must look like a lunatic.

“You know,” A-Yao says after a long silence that’s heavy and soft as a down blanket, “Danny came back as soon as they let him out and he got things going with your firm. He went right back to chatting up the guys he likes flirting with, and when Mingjue asked him if he shouldn’t lay low for a while you know what he said?”

Xichen holds a sip of water in his mouth as he shakes his head.

“He said he didn’t have to worry about a single thing, because he’d found the best lawyer in the city who was going to look out for him, and make sure he was taken care of. He came back singing your praises, talking about how kind you are. How you really listened to him when he’d been so scared nobody would even take him seriously, let alone understand.”

Xichen fidgets with the corner of the blanket, the glass of tepid water in his hands, anything to avoid meeting that assessing gaze. Of course he’d helped. It’s his job to help. It’s his job to care, and to know exactly what he needs to know to make sure the people he protects get to see justice served. To know that they’re not alone, that someone is in their corner. He’s not special, that’s every lawyer’s job.

“I was there, Xichen, when Danny got arrested.”

Xichen looks up sharply – Mingjue had said he wasn’t, it hadn’t even occurred to him to think that A-Yao was.

“They beat him half to death while we all tried to pull them off him, and I know that there are plenty of people – the majority of people – who wouldn’t have given two shits about him, or how much having to see that hurt us all. But you cared, and you did it in a courtroom full of people. You can’t possibly ‘intrude’ on us or our community, okay? You’re Family now.”

Xichen’s next inhale catches in his chest and he tries to cover it with another sip of his water.

“Knew you’d be better at explaining it than me,” Mingjue rumbles low in his chest. “I tried to tell him the other night but I guess it didn’t stick.”

A-Yao hums and leans back to kiss Mingjue’s cheek, casual and sweet and it doesn’t even occur to Xichen to find it odd. How could he – clearly they love each other. A-Yao stands up from Mingjue’s lap then with a pat to one broad shoulder.

“Keep an eye on him, ge, I need to go call A-Sang.”

“Sure,” Mingjue agrees easily and doesn’t bother hiding that he watches A-Yao’s ass as he leaves. Xichen hides behind another sip of his water and very carefully, very slowly, relaxes back into the couch cushions with a little sigh of relief.

They sit in companionable silence for a while. Xichen feels himself calming down despite the riot of color around him. A-Yao’s talking quietly in the other room and occasionally laughing, though never loud enough to disrupt. Mingjue’s staring off into space as he brushes his fingers back and forth across the heavy metal rings still on his knuckles, and Xichen happily leaves him to whatever thoughts he’s having as he tries to get his own in order.

Finally, eventually, he sets his empty water glass down on the coffee table and without taking his eyes off of it he admits, “Danny’s case was…surprisingly important to me.”

Mingjue’s attention shifts to him, he can feel it like the press of a hand on the back of his neck, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee table to meet his gaze. If he does he isn’t sure he’ll actually find the courage to keep talking.

“All of my cases are important to me, but Danny’s was…when I heard what happened, what…what they did to him, all I could think was that no one deserved it, but especially not someone just looking for some companionship. And he was so sweet when I met with him. His eye was still swollen shut and he looked so relieved when I told him I was sorry it had happened. I didn’t…It seemed so unfair, for someone so sweet to have been excited by a new encounter only to have it go horrifically wrong.”

Xichen sucks in a breath that shudders in his chest and Mingjue levers himself up out of the chair to sit next to him on the couch instead, not quite touching but close enough that Xichen can feel the solid weight of him as if they were.

“I don’t understand what people think is so wrong about the way you all live,” he admits in a murmur. It feels like if he says it loudly enough Lan Qiren will somehow hear him, punish him for falling into degeneracy when he was raised so much ‘better’ than that. “It’s just…it’s still love, isn’t it? It’s really not so different to anyone else. Everyone just wants...someone who cares. What else matters?”

Mingjue exhales and leans back to rest more fully against the sofa, head tipped back to rest on top of the cushions. Xichen mirrors his posture, hands linked over his stomach and elbow knocking against Mingjue’s beside him.

“Well obviously A-Yao and I aren’t going to argue with you on that,” Mingjue jokes, dry as a bone. “We don’t get the big deal either, and I can guarantee you we’re about as ‘out there’ as they get, especially by most people’s standards. But it’s not like it’s anyone else’s business unless we decide that it is, so why should people care? We’re just minding our own.”

Xichen isn’t really sure what ‘out there’ means, but. Well. He has an imagination. It’s not very creative (it doesn’t have much to work with), but maybe that’s something to be examined at a later time when he’s not on Mingjue and A-Yao’s sofa and failing to prevent himself from having an identity crisis.

“I can see the appeal of it, your lifestyle,” he says next – utterly damning, by the standards he was raised with. Mingjue just snorts hard enough that Xichen feels it through the couch cushions.

“’M not surprised, if you’re really as good at understanding other people as Danny says. Anyone that good at listening would see there’s an appeal to just about anything under the right circumstances. You just have to figure out what appeals to you. If it’s your clients and your suits and your buttoned-up coworkers that’s fine, there’s a place for that. If it’s this –” Mingjue gestures expansively with one massive hand at the apartment around them, including A-Yao still chatting in the kitchen and the sound of music and laughter down in the street below “ – then obviously there’s a place for that too. Maybe it’s both, who knows?”

Both?

Xichen hums to show he’s heard but he doesn’t say anything else, too caught up in the idea of that.

Both.

His office, and the career that he finds fulfilling and satisfying even if he didn’t necessarily get to choose it for himself. He’s never resented that, not even once. He likes it. But his life could be…more. It could be…this. At night. When he’s free to do as he pleases.

Some of the pressure in his chest eases.

He doesn’t have to devote his entire life to only doing what his Uncle expects of him. He probably should, it would be unfilial not to appreciate everything Lan Qiren has given him in this life. The potential for guilt is there, waiting in the wings behind the possibilities unfolding in his mind’s eye. But he doesn’t have to. He could simply…add to it.

“Danny mentioned a…place. A club,” Xichen says, a little breathless with his daring. This isn’t research, he can’t even pretend it is. He’s seen the spot where Danny got hurt, he’s seen what it’s like for the men who go cruising. He gets it. He doesn’t need to see anymore.

“Yeah? Probably mine. A-Yao and I run the gay bar at the other end of the street, but on the weekends it’s definitely more like a club. You wanna see that too?”

Xichen turns his head to look at Mingjue beside him to find the man already peeking at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s no judgement in the look, just open and frank honesty. Does he want to see the gay club? It’s entirely up to him, and Mingjue won’t be bothered one way or the other.

“Yes. Yes I think I would. Tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“What’s tomorrow?” A-Yao asks as he comes back into the room to sit down with a sigh on Xichen’s other side. Xichen turns his head to look at him without lifting it from the back of the couch and gets the strangest thrill out of sitting with such poor posture for so long. He imagines Lan Qiren scolding him for not sitting properly on such a garish sofa in the apartment of two people so deeply important to the local queer scene and has to hold back a smile.

“I’d like to come see yours and Mingjue’s club, if I may.”

“ ‘If I may’,” A-Yao quotes back with a smile that makes twin deep dimples pop in his cheeks. “Such a gentleman. Of course you can, Xichen. We’ll need to be there tomorrow night anyway so you can come with us; no safer place to be.”

Xichen tucks that promise of safety, so similar to Mingjue’s the other night, into his heart and tells it to slow down, that he doesn’t have to be afraid. Not when they’ve got him taken care of.

‘Out there’ for A-Yao and Mingjue, he learns a few weeks later, means at least in part that he’s apparently being ‘tag-teamed’ according to Nie Huaisang, visiting from a few towns over for the weekend. And when he tumbles very happily into bed with A-Yao and Mingjue later that night (with far more leather than he would’ve ever thought the activity could involve), Xichen is thoroughly startled to realize he’s maybe a bit ‘out there’ too, and he knows he’s very lucky to have realized this whilst in such indulgent company.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Tagged in "Seven Sentence Saturday" by @woobifiedvillain - thank you!!

Went back and forth on what wip i wanted to use for this and couldn't decide so. Fuck the rules this is my blog you get 2 different ones! Pretend it's called fourteen sentence very-late-friday.

The first is from the mdzs cyberpunk au, tentatively called "where else to go" for now. Not all that cyberpunk yet in this snippet, oops. This scene is one of my favorite bits to showcase how meng yao approaches conversations and how a lot of the time he's not even lying per se but he is being calculating. Everything he says here is true but at every turn he is still trying to turn the conversation in his favour. I love him so much.

"Leave."

"I have a reason for being here,"

"I don't care!"

"My family intentionally sabotaged that deal with Zhao Yingjun that fell through three months ago."

Bingo. For all that Nie Mingjue hated the corporate life, he could never bear to be absent from something he felt responsible for, he hadn't been able to stay away when Jin Yao was still running things and he still wasn't- he'd have known about that deal.

This was the only way he knew to make Mingjue believe him. Set himself up so bad that he could not possibly fathom how he might benefit from lying.

Hopefully Mingjue hadn't changed the mechanical locks in the back yet, Qin Su should have gotten in by now.

And the second is from chapter 3 of "a warped rail meets a straight one" which has been kicking my ass for over a year now. What the fuck. This is one of the first bits i ever wrote for it, where we get a fun little flashback. And a cameo? Or maybe not.

And they'd never gone back.

But Touya had gotten a glimpse, anyway, into a part of themselves that the hero commission preferred to keep hidden from the public.

That training facility had been for children. Not teenagers, not students. Children. Younger than Touya had been.

He'd seen something moving, in the corner of his eye, as they left. A small silhouette peeking around the corner before being ushered along by the commission's agents.

Maybe, retroactively, he can convince himself that he saw a flash of red, but that's probably just a trick of the mind.

Tagging @transhawks, @jecook, @aphrodaisyacs, @secretgaygenttomura, and @frankensteins-dabi feel free to ignore this! And if you want to do this but i didn't tag you- let's both pretend i did and do it anyway.

[ao3feed-xicheng]

Wei Ying's Epic Scheme to Save Bichen

by Acearmy Lan Zhan never had any dreams. Serving his Xiongzhang and his sect were of utmost importance; but dreams? Maybe a good cultivator to civilians , someone whom they can rely on. But what makes a good cultivator without his sword? And how can a sword even be used when it has turned into a.. BUNNY GOD?! Words: 1106, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Fengmian, Yu Ziyuan, Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao, Jin Guangshan, Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang, Wen Ruohan, Wen Ning | Wen Qionglin, Wen Qing (Modao Zushi), Mo Xuanyu, Xue Yang | Xue Chengmei, Qingheng-jun, Madam Lan (Modao Zushi), Lan Qiren, Luo "Mian Mian" Qingyang, Qin Su (Modao Zushi) Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin/Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue/Wen Qing, Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan, Madam Lan/Qingheng-jun, Luo "Mian Mian" Qingyang/Qin Su, Mo Xuanyu & Xue Yang | Xue Chengmei Additional Tags: My First Work in This Fandom, The Author Regrets Nothing, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian Week, Fluff and Smut, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Everyone Is Gay, Cameos, Other Additional Tags to Be Added via https://ift.tt/P8hHOxv

[linxuelian]

Three Wishes

The mini comics make a return!

[liathebookwyrm]

Return of the ghost aunties

Suppose that during That One banquet Lan Xichen decides that he will give in to the troll gene, downs the offered alcohol and proceeds to get roaring drunk. Drunk!lLan Xichen appreciates Jin Zixun pushing alcohol at his little brother even less than his sober self does. He proceeds to tackle the asshole. Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian assist. Enthusiastically. To be fair, Wei Wuxian is a little confused about the why they are doing it (beyond the whole "he tried to give Lan Wangji alcohol" thing), but if Lan Xichen started it surely he can get away with a punch or two.

Back in Cloud Recesses the elders are seized by a sense of collective horror and don't know why. Somewhere in the afterlife Lan I-will-decapitate-you-with-a-guqin-string Yi is smugly informing anyone who will listen that he gets it from her side of the family.

What the author is saying is, the narrative would have been greatly enhanced by a chorus of Lan ancestors providing commentary from the afterlife. A counter chorus would be, of course, provided by the ghosts of the Burial Mounds, seeing as they have collectively adopted Wei Wuxian as their grandchild.

Inevitably Lan Wangji visits the Burial Mounds and inevitably the ghost collectives -ahem- collide. It's tense at first, then a couple of the aunties start talking weddings and whose kid makes the better prospective groom.

"Our Lan Wangji composed a song to dedicate to his love when he was only sixteen. And he is an heir to a great clan."

"Our Wei Wuxian is an excellent farmer. And he invented a whole new style of cultivation on his own."

The slightly awkward bit is....Wei Wuxian can hear them, seeing as he is the resident necromancer.

A-Yuan asks to see the guqin and the second it is even remotely horizontal the ghosts are tripping all over each other to try and give their two cents on the situation. The resulting sound is.... interesting. And probably the only recorded case of spontaneous Inquiry.

Amidst much blushing and awkward laughing Wei Wuxian managed to mumble something about MianMian (mostly) to the direction of the ghosts. It is enough to shock Lan Wangji out of his own dead relative-induced embarrassment. At least him glaring at Wei Wuxian in exasperation is familiar ground for both of them.

Meanwhile, in the background, Xue Chonghai is regretting any and all life choices that led to this moment ("Wei Wuxian, my boy, my spiritual successor, my punishment for my mortal sins....how are you so oblivious?"). To be fair, he's still a little salty about that one time they killed his pet kaiju turtle. And that other time Wei Wuxian was particularly sleep deprived and called him Murder Uncle. The name stuck. Xue Yang is particularly eager to address him as such.

[nie-smh-my-head-huaisang]

Xisang Week 2021 - Day 5 - Dreams/Ribbon

Lan Xichen had a very self indulgent dream. Da-ge would find a spouse and have a gaggle of little Nie Daughters, Jin Guangyao would be a respected member of the Jin Sect, and Nie Huaisang...

With the title of Sect Heir given to his oldest Niece, Nie Huaisang was free to marry out of his sect. Free to join Gusu Lan. It was his most self indulgent fantasy, Nie Huaisang in his sect’s color, a white ribbon to signify his place in the sect. Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen’s husband that he would always protect.

He would dream of those closest to him, happy, smiling. Nothing could ever ruin this happiness.

And he would wake up, only to remember the smiles he failed to protect.

[thebiscuiteternal]

“Support” Reverse Nies, Brother Bonds, A Little Dysfunction, Long Illness, Character Death, Politics, Writing This Was Inevitable, Nie Mingjue Was Like That Before Even Being Full Grown

__________

"Jue-er, stay inside until we know what’s going on, got it?"

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his older brother is four months away from turning fifteen when their father is brought home from a joint night hunt on a stretcher, bloody and screaming. He watches from the doorway as his brother rushes out into the courtyard to meet the panicked knot of disciples, every healer they can spare from the medical ward hot on his heels.

Even in all the chaos, it doesn’t take long at all for word to filter back in his direction in a dozen different bitten off conversations.

Shattered.

Their father’s saber shattered. 

He is a little less than one year away from drawing a saber of his own, he knows exactly what that means.

He doesn’t sleep at all that night, but waits until the sun is peeking over the mountains to creep into the healers’ ward. 

Attempts have been made to clean up, but gods, there’s still so much blood. On the floor, on rags scattered about, spattered all over the clothing of the exhausted healers and physicians, on the bed… His father lies unconscious and partially bound, his brother and cousin beside him. 

All three look like they’ve just stumbled off a battlefield. 

“Sang-ge.” His brother raises his head, skin pale and expression dull with fatigue, then tries to stand. “Don’t,” Nie Mingjue says, rushing to help Nie Zonghui catch him and push him back into the chair before he can fall over. 

Nie Huaisang sighs, the sound deep and hollow, and leans into his side. “I suppose you’ve heard,” he murmurs, voice hoarse from barking orders he’s unused to having to give.

Nie Mingjue swallows past the lump in his throat and wraps an arm around his brother’s shoulders, shifting his weight to support him. It makes him feel a little less useless in the face of- “I did. What happens now?”

“They’ve managed to stabilize him. For the time being, anyway. I have to convene with the elders this afternoon to decide whether the succession documents are current enough, just in case.”

Just in case. He hates the sound of that.

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, his older brother is almost fifteen, and they keep silent vigil over their father as the sect prepares for the worst around them.

---

“Jue-er, go to our room and stay there. No matter what you might hear, don’t come out until morning, understand?”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his brother’s fifteenth birthday is tomorrow, and they should have been planning to celebrate. Instead, he is sitting on a stool in the secondary kitchen his brother occasionally claims, a steady stream of qi gently flowing from his brother’s hand into the injuries on his face.

Over the course of the past months, he’s watched his brother’s cheerful, teasing nature slowly leech away under the strain of trying to care for their father and take on the ins and outs of the sect, but never in his life has he seen him this angry.

Then again, never in his life had their father ever attacked either one of them.

He’s still a little bruised when his brother straightens up and the comforting warmth of his palm pulls back. On reflex, he reaches up and grabs the retreating hand. “What are you going to do?” he asks, unable to keep the faintest tremor out of his voice because he knows the answer.

He also knows all too well that between the three of them, his brother is the most physically vulnerable, and the thought of what might happen- 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nie Huaisang says with a smile so forced it hurts to look at, then gently squeezes his hand and leaves before he can protest whatever his brother is planning.

Feeling like a coward, Nie Mingjue returns to the room they’ve shared for safety since their father’s rages truly began to go out of control. ‘All the times you’ve argued with him and now you obey,’ his mind sneers bitterly. He bites down the shame and the stinging in his eyes and sits on the bed.

The sounds of crashing and yelling never come, but he isn’t sure if the silence is worse. 

But he waits until the sky is beginning to turn from black to grey before he opens the door.

A senior disciple -his brain is in too much of a storm to remember the name, or even register the face- meets him on the way to his father’s rooms.

His ancestors would be ashamed of the relief that washes through him when the news is delivered. 

His brother is still alive.

Their father’s suffering is over.

He finds his brother amidst a shifting knot of disciples and servants and elders, the funeral plans they’d made over the course of their father’s ‘illness’ already being handed out and implemented with sharp efficiency.

He’d be impressed if his brother didn’t look a wrong breath away from passing out. Ignoring anyone else trying to get his attention, he marches up and grabs his brother around the arm to help him stay on his feet, scowling at anyone who seems the slightest bit disapproving.

“Jue-er…”

He scowls at his brother too, when it looks like he might try to pull away, and his brother sighs and shakes his head with a fond look, then ruffles his hair. “Alright,” he says. “Alright.”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, it’s his older brother’s fifteenth birthday, and they kneel silently in the great hall, still holding on to each other, as Nie Huaisang is officially declared sect leader.

---

“This shouldn’t take long, so just wait out here for me, okay?”

Nie Mingjue is nine years old and his older brother has been fifteen for all of six days when he is called to a formal introduction before the other great and lesser sect leaders.

The whole thing itches annoyingly under his skin. Most of them hadn’t even come to the funeral, and now his brother is expected to play the gracious host when they do show up. 

He decides to work off his irritation in the training yard, going through sword forms until his muscles burn and his breath wheezes in his lungs. He’s just finishing up when people begin trickling out of the main hall. Toweling down and making sure he doesn’t noticeably stink, he trots over to find his brother deep in conversation with Grandmaster Lan.

There are eyes on his brother’s back, and he bristles a little when he tracks the gazes.

The leer from Jin-zongzhu is almost to be expected. What worries Nie Mingjue, though…

At one point not too horribly long ago, he’d thought that Wen Ruohan and their father were friends. But he has heard the rumors, traded in conspiratorial whispers at the funeral when the gossipers thought he couldn’t hear, of how their father had allowed the leader of the Wen sect to inspect the saber that now lay in shards in his coffin. 

“Hey.” Fingertips tap his temple, drawing him back to find his brother standing in front of him alone, his conversation apparently finished. “You alright? You were gone somewhere for a bit there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did Grandmaster Lan want?”

“Not much.” His brother stretches, clearly glad to be out of the meeting, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t miss the way Wen-zongzhu’s gaze tracks the motion.

There is something predatory there, something that reminds him uncomfortably of a tiger stalking a deer.

His hands involuntarily clench, and it’s probably for the better he doesn’t yet have a saber to draw or else he’s likely to cause their first diplomatic incident.

“Jue-er.”

“Sorry. You were saying?”

Nie Huaisang tilts his head slightly and narrows his eyes, but lets it go. “Since I won’t be able to attend the lectures in the summer, Grandmaster Lan has offered to send copies of some of the material I’ll miss.”

He can’t help a disbelieving grin. “And you accepted?”

His brother swats him in the arm. “Brat. Not even a week and you’re already sassing your sect leader,” he says, tone cut with amusement. “It’s fine, it’s not like he’s expecting me to actually study any of it as classwork, it’ll just be there if I need to-”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees servants arriving to guide their guests to their lodgings for the night, and he is more than a little relieved to see that Wen Ruohan won’t be one of the ones staying that long. 

At least they won’t have to sleep with blades by their pillows this time. 

Even so, he knows from the weight of that stare that there will undoubtedly be others.

Fine.

Nie Mingjue is nine years old, five months away from turning ten and gaining his saber, and he will start a war if the bastard that took their father touches his brother.

[khazadspoon]

People often describe lxc as the sun so how about 90 from the massive prompt list for xichen/whoever youd like?

Aaahhhh Xichen my love...... I may have fiddled with the prompt a bit, because I simply cannot see anyone being dreamier than Xichen. But let’s have a go at some NieLan. Slight TGCF crossover just because I remembered the whole Nan Yang being a hot god thing.

 90: “He is very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are.”

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The temple was busy, as it always was, but the crowd still parted at the sight of the two tall and imposing cultivators in their presence. Lan Xichen looked up at the statue of Nan Yang Zhen Jun and considered the craftsmanship. It was beautiful; the features were strong but kind with brows furrowed in determination, flowing robes and detailed armour over a strong frame of a man who knew battle well, a bow held aloft with an arrow knocked ready to fly. 

Lan Xichen was not one to frequent temples. But he knew that many flocked to this temple, especially young married women concerned for their lineage. If he and Nie Mingjue were to find information about a runaway bride and the vengeful spirit haunting her family, it would be a good place to start. 

At his side, Nie Mingjue was silent. In some ways he was similar to the statue of the god - stern, solid, a presence that could not be denied or ignored. It was comforting as he passed through the crowd of women huddled near the altar to have Nie Mingjue with him. It was always comforting. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He remarked with a gesture to the depiction of Nan Yang Zhen Jun. “One almost expects to see a halo of sunlight shining from his crown.”

Nie Mingjue huffed a breath and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I suppose he is impressive enough. He is not the sun though,” Nie Mingjue bumped their shoulders together and leaned in conspiratorially, as though his words might offend the god above them. “You are.”

A bright laugh tumbled from his lips as the words settled over him, warm and comforting as any compliment from Nie Mingjue was. “You flatter me!” He said, heat suffusing in his cheeks. He wanted to lean over and kiss the self-satisfied smirk from Nie Mingjue’s lips but stopped himself, all too aware of the crowd. 

“I’m trying to flatter you.”

Lan Xichen had been called many things in his life, most complimentary. He had been called bright, beautiful, intelligent, had been compared to soft moonlight and glittering stars... He treasured each comment and hoarded the celestial comparisons in his heart. The sun was added to them and he wondered what might come next. 

He pushed at Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, not at all surprised when the man didn’t move, and tutted under his breath. “Come, let’s get on with today’s mission. When we have a lead we can rest and you can continue to flatter me.”

Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow and smiled. “As Zewu-Jun wishes.” He bowed his head in mock-deference, the smile falling away as he saw a concerned looking young woman to the side. 

Lan Xichen followed him, still smiling at his partner’s antics. He would have to think of a way to make Nie Mingjue blush before the day was out.

[p0m-p0m]

Huaisang el ñeri que se cree tincho aesthetic y no tiene ni un mango por eso le roba ropa al hermano (de paso la tarjeta)

estamos muy en esa con todo esto de mdzs Argento con mis friends (es un cago de risa lmao)

(y nadie aca me va a decir que no tuvieron esa gomita del pelo de goma, aunque no la hayan ocupado nunca estaba ahi)

anywaaay

love him

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Have you come across a fic on ao3 called All The Dark Places by SheSailsBelow? (Pretty sure they have a blog @she-sails-below​ here on tumblr too o.o) i came across it not too long ago it’s one of the most unique and darkly poetic dystopian/apocalyptic fics ive read in a long time. It even has reincarnation, past lives, and soulmate tropes, and it really is amazing so far. it just made me sad that the author doesnt have much exposure for it yet so i wondered if you could post something about it. Thanks!

All The Dark Places

by SheSailsBelow (M, 18k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  In a world where the earth is barren and dead, dreaming is illegal, bodies are fragile and the Wens reign supreme, Wei Wuxian meets his soulmate. The consequences are deadly.

The body may forget, but the soul will always remember.

~*~

for follower recs, i am going FERAL about stiltonbasket's flowers in the palace series! basically, lesbians wangxian are both consorts in emperor nie mingjue's harem (no wangxian/nmj here, he's hopelessly in love with his empress lan xichen) and there's political intrigue and boss ladies!

Flowers in the Palace

by stiltonbasket (T, 9k, wangxian, nielan, xuanli, jiang siblings, series in progress)

Summary:  In which Nie Mingjue is the son of heaven, Lan Xichen is his beloved Empress, and his harem is full of hopeless lesbians. Imperial AU!

~*~

Hey Mojo, just wanted to drop by to tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for us and this fandom, and to leave a rec! It’s “Unavoidable” by diamondbruise on AO3. I just finished it this morning and I loved it (which means that I cried lmao)! It’s a post-canon amnesia fic! If you already recced this, ignore this message lol I’m not always sure what has already been recced and what hasn’t ^^ Have a nice day! ~ @rainbowsamidstclouds

Unavoidable

by diamondbruise (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji, generally speaking, did not make note of people. Of course there were exceptions, once faced with special kindness or distaste, but most often others left an imprint so light that it would fade from his mind in only a few days, if not minutes.

He didn’t feel right in his skin for the rest of the day after meeting Wei Wuxian.

or, lwj cannot remember wwx

~*~

Hi mojo, can I suggest “Three Changes” by orange_crushed for when the next recommendations post happens? It’s a sweet Cloud Recesses summer based story and it really captured my heart reading it. ❤️ ~ @dulachodladh

Three changes.

by orange_crushed (M, 19k, wangxian)

Summary: Wangji risks a glance across the aisle; Wei Ying’s gaze is tilted down to his book, a model of diligence. But he’s smiling as he writes, and when his eyes flick over to Wangji’s, just for a second, they’re alight with something beautiful.

This is love, Wangji realizes, right then. This is what it feels like. It's happening afresh even as it dawns on him.

He copies the next line wrong, and the next.

~*~

Fic rec! I laughed so hard when I read this that I cried. It just keeps getting better with every paragraph, and I can feel the characters reactions to lwj's words in my soul. It has everything a crack fic needs: canon fix-it, lwj adopting a-yuan, public declarations, babies! Many babies, all the babies; there's also an hilarious jc cameo. ~ @evadingreallife

Taking Responsibility

by deliciousblizzardshark

T, 6k, wangxian, my bookmark

Summary: When Lan Wangji falsely claims, in front of the entire cultivation world, that he impregnated Wei Wuxian in his dreams and is the father of A-Yuan, he’s not prepared for the consequences of his actions.

[ao3feed-xicheng]

Ángel del Pecado

by SkyblueDelta Lan XiChen conocía el carácter desvergonzado de su cuñado, pero jamás imaginó que aquel espécimen lujurioso disfrazado de dulzura e inocencia que era Jiang WanYin fuera un ángel que guardaba un gran pecado. Un pecado donde estaba dispuesto a caer. Words: 7800, Chapters: 2/3, Language: Español Fandoms: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao, Nie Mingjue, Cameo MXTX Crossover Relationships: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén Additional Tags: Sexo semipúblico, Mamadas, Beso negro, sexo oral, Jiang Cheng es un coqueto imparable, Lan XiChen no tiene escapatoria, Fiesta de disfraces, Bottom Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Top Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Sexo en la oficina, Mi barco favorito es Mingjue siendo el presidente del XiCheng, XiCheng, Amor a primera caída, Atracción Mutua, Tensión sexual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot via https://ift.tt/UTaSFyA