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- The Sun Loves The Moon -

The newly appointed lord of the night skies held nothing of the gentle but unyielding grace of his predecessor, but instead carried the raging temper of the late Lady of Tempests. Suffice to say, their first exchange had been quite the shock. Literally. Their meeting place still held the scars of untamed lightning.

Jiang Wanyin was a headache to deal with.

But Lan Xichen was nothing but patient. And after a few meetings, it was a moment of grief that had opened his eyes.

Of course, he had heard of the events that occured not too long ago. The burning of Lotus Pier, the death of Jiang Wanyin’s parents, Wei Wuxian returning not as an inventor of stars but a reaper of death. Everyone had their own problems at the time, however—Cloud Recesses had burned too. He had no time for his own grief, much less the grief of someone else.

Though now, looking at Jiang Wanyin’s feral expression, he would have to deal with it regardless.

The moon falls, following Jiang Wanyin’s collapse.

And there it was, the heavens sobbing. The skies go from pink to gray in a flash of lightning, and a downpour soaks them both to the bone. Above the noise of the torrential rain and rapid thunder, he can still hear the desperate wails coming from the bearer of the moon.

The world was truly, cruelly complicated. Not only for himself, but for the lord at his feet. The tightening of his throat and the misting of his eyes, it all nearly overtakes Lan Xichen.

He breathes, falling back on meditation techniques his brother and he practiced daily. No, he himself couldn’t cry as freely as Jiang Wanyin. His family was raised to not show an excess of emotion—partly due to discipline, but mostly because the Lan blood felt remarkably deep, and these emotions can cause lasting effects to the weather. Lan Xichen alone would flood their surroundings if he fell to his own grief.

He envies Jiang Wanyin, in that regard. Crying freely, loving freely, all was done so… freely. For better or for worse.

Despite his teachings, he understands the need to unrestrain one’s self in times like these. So he sinks down, knees hitting the soaked ground and robes saturating with water. He shields both the sun and the moon with his body, gently holding them up for the other to see.

“Just as the sun would rise and fall, they too were bound to fade one day. And just as the moon fills and empties, all are subject to change.” With all the caution of soothing a wild animal, Lan Xichen carefully strokes the star-covered shoulder. “The loss of your parents, the change within your brother, none of this is your fault.”

Jiang Wanyin’s response is a shuddering gasp. Still, the rain lets up just a fraction. It wouldn’t help with getting them dry any faster, but it was a start.

He’ll wait until the other calms down. He’ll comfort for as long as he needs. Lan Xichen is nothing but patient, after all.

“For last time,” were the first words Jiang Wanyin throws at him the next time they meet. A gold hair ornament is shoved into his palm, which had been extended for the moon. Lan Xichen blinks, thinking he had been given the sun for a moment—impossible, since he still held it in his other hand. “It’s a lotus flower. For your hair,” Jiang Wanyin explains slowly.

Lan Xichen could only nod, replacing his current hair ornament with the one so gracefully forced upon him. It seems that Jiang Wanyin won’t be satisfied until he puts it on. He receives an approving nod to confirm those thoughts.

“Thank you,” Lan Xichen starts, “but there was no need for the trouble.”

“Yeah? Well… just take it! I have like twenty of them or something. Also! You’ve already accepted it, so no take backs! Refusing my gift would be rude, after all.”

“You are indeed correct,” he says wryly, entertaining the younger lord. They finally trade celestial bodies. Instead of immediately leaving, however, Jiang Wanyin hesitates. “Is there something else you need?”

“No. No, uh…” With brows drawn taut and face forced into a grimace, Jiang Wanyin clears his throat. All these actions do nothing to conceal the rosy blush dusting his cheeks—not unlike the color of the sky when they meet. “So… I’ll see you at dawn?”

It is the first time that he had alluded to their next meeting (despite them meeting regularly and without fail). Lan Xichen nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. “As well as dusk.”

“Yeah… see you then.”

Lan Xichen watches the back of those star-speckled robes leave until he’s nothing but a dot over the horizon. Eventually he musters the strength to turn away, reminding himself that they will meet once more when the sky turns blush pink again. For now, he begins his own duty, signalling the start of day by placing the saffron-colored star in the sky

The days and nights dragged on for Lan Xichen. Most of his work has devolved into delegating tasks, managing relations between brothers sworn, and (attempting to) understand his brother’s desire for the newly turned grim reaper.

The world had been complicated since the mantle of the sun had been passed to him. But then, he thinks, it had been cruelly complex even beforehand. His parents were a testament to that, the Lord of Clouds becoming nothing more than the mist surrounding their sacred mountain when it burned. Or even before that, when his mother had faded away, leaving the mountain forever chilly.

But he keeps going, never dissolving into mist or chill. For his brother, for his uncle, for those below him.

And recently, for the moon.

The days and nights drag on for Lan Xichen. He cherishes the time between day and night even more because of it. They are simple moments in time, an exchange between two and nothing else. He finds himself looking forward to dawn, to dusk, if only to give the sun and receive the moon, to give the moon and receive the sun.

If only to see the giver and receiver, night after night, day after day.

If only to see Jiang Wanyin.

Day by day, night after night, the exchanges continue pleasantly. Lan Xichen bore witness to the shifting grief within Jiang Wanyin, changing into determination like the gradual change of the moon’s phases.

Day by day, night after night, they chat. Jiang Wanyin speaks of his kind sister, of his forsaken brother. Of a nephew newly born and a lake fixed. And Lan Xichen, he talks of his own brother, of poetry and music (which Jiang Wanyin seems to have a complicated interest in despite his namesake), of brothers sworn and conflicts created. Together, they spoke of duties and delegations, of home and offerings. They grouse about the state between their brothers (well, Jiang Wanyin does—Lan Xichen does not grouse). And they speak of desires, of old longing…

Day by day, night after night, Lan Xichen fell in love.

“Brother shines bright,” Lan Wangji had commented one day with all the frankness of the Light Bearer. The stern image is ruined, however, by the gentle expression on his face as he carved a flute from obsidian and sunrays.

“I am merely thinking of the coming dusk,” he explained, but Lan Wangji shakes his head.

“Thinking of the one seen at dusk.”

Oh, Wei Wuxian instilled some brashness into his dear younger brother. But those words were not wrong.

He loves. Ah, now he sees it. He loves.

“I suppose I am…” Lan Xichen says carefully, though there was no point. Lan Wangji had seen past him in an instant.

His brother nods, satisfied, before turning his attention back to the half-carved flute. Lan Xichen smiles sardonically. Now if only Wangji could have the same boldness for himself and his oblivious reaper.

Really now, a few simple words would be easier than fretting over five carved flutes.

Wangji’s idea of gift giving was something to be considered, however. After all, Jiang Wanyin had (forcefully) given him the very headpiece he wears now. The least he could do to show his affection is to get him something in return.

But what to get him?

He considers a lotus-themed present and immediately rejects the idea. He himself said he had ‘like twenty of them or something.’ He seems to show no desire for music like his adopted brother, so instruments were off the table too. Perhaps he could get him something unique to the Cloud Recesses?

He sighs, glancing up at the sinking sun, slightly obscured by a white-topped mountain. They were to meet again soon. There wasn’t that much time left before sunset.

The snow on the opposite mountain glinted like white jade at him, almost unnaturally bright as the sun continued to fall. The Cloud Recesses was known for its bitter cold winters, being on top of a mountain. But he couldn’t give ice or snow, no matter how magnificent they’d look. They’d melt.

White Jade, though—that didn’t melt. And it was abundant in Cloud Recesses.

The sun winks over the horizon, as if trying to pull free from the jade mountain holding it in place. As if telling him ‘you better work fast.’ Odd how the mountain sounded like Jiang Wanyin…

Calming himself to ensure he didn’t get too excited, Lan Xichen sets to work.

“For you,” Lan Xichen says, placing the carved jade in the palm awaiting the moon. Jiang Wanyin blinks at it.

Lan Xichen smiles at him, completely at odds with how he was inwardly fretting. He now understood Lan Wangji’s pain. He had wanted the gift to be perfect, and in his haste to beat time, he had carved four separate jade stars. This was after the three failed attempts at creating the smooth curves of a cloud. As it turns out, carving was very different from calligraphy, and while his brother was adept at such a thing, he was not as proficient.

He had planned this gift giving down to the letter, making sure it resembles Jiang Wanyin’s own gift towards Lan Xichen. Still, he finds himself full of nerves. What if he was tired of stars, he realizes belatedly. Jiang Wanyin deals with the night, so of course it’s a possibility!

“What’s this for?” he asks, turning it over in his hand.

“It is a gift,” he says lamely. “No… no take backs.”

Jiang Wanyin gives an incredulous stare. Lan Xichen swallows, moving to take the star back.

“Unless, ah… if you do not like it, I can—”

“Nope!” He dodges out of Lan Xichen’s hand quickly, guarding the jade pendant. “You said no take backs. It’s mine now!”

“Oh, but—”

“You already gave me the gift! It would be rude if you took it back now!”

He hangs the token at his waist with an air of authority, daring him to try and take it. The star token glitters bright against the galaxy-colored robes. Lan Xichen swallows, his throat going dry; it accentuates his hips very well.

“Holy hell, why is it so fucking hot all of a sudden?!”

Lan Xichen’s eyes snap up to Jiang Wanyin’s, and he forces himself to focus his gaze there. He feels his ears grow hot, and it had nothing to do with the drought he no doubt just caused.

“Ah, I am glad you like the gift,” he says a little too quickly, trading the moon for the sun. “See you at dusk!”

“Uh—yeah. And dawn too.”

Lan Xichen hadn’t fled faster.

“Hm? Lan Zhan, why are there so many jade tokens on the table?”

“Brother’s failed attempts.”

“Failed?! They’re works of art! The stars look so real, like the ones I used to hang! And what are with these clouds, the curves are so smooth!”

“Brother said not good enough.”

“Aiyah! We’re no match for the Twin Jades’s standards…”

“You… all my standards…”

“Hm? What was that, Lan Zhan?”

“…nothing that needs repeating.”

“Lan Zhaaan! No fair! Hey! What did you saaay?! Lan Zhaaaaan!”

The night stretched out before them, the sky littered with jewels. The moon that they had exchanged during dusk was hanging in the sky, a mere crescent of light.

Coming to see Jiang Wanyin outside of their usual dawn/dusk meeting time had been an impulse. Jiang Wanyin didn’t question it, however, immediately moving to entertain him instead. In fact, he seemed rather pleased at his presence.

“Thank you for the gift last time,” he explains, bringing him out to one of the bigger lakes of Lotus Pier. “It’s only fair I show you the sky as thanks.”

He had seen the night in passing before, but never truly stopped to observe it. After all, he was lording over the day. He recalls visiting his mother, the gentle chills moving down her spine as she showed her the clouds from her window. In his memory, they were inky and dark with the evening sky, signaling the end of their meeting.

The sky’d clouds now were a myriad of magenta and purple and blue, much like the robes Jiang Wanyin wears. Each cloud is speckled with faint stars, blipping in and out of existence with each blink. Jiang Wanyin had called it a nebula.

“There’s even more stars when it’s a new moon.”

Lan Xichen gazes to the figure standing beside him. The stars framed his head, countless in number. Moonrays kiss his hair, and the nebula color each contour of his skin in soft magentas and violets and blues.

“Beautiful…”

Jiang Wanyin smiles proudly at his whispered awe, eyes still fixed onto the night sky. “Yeah, it is.”

The sight was truly breathtaking.

One dawn, Jiang Wanyin came to their meeting running and panting. Before Lan Xichen could ask what had him so frantic, hands grasped his shoulders tight.

“They say that the sun dies every night so that the moon may breathe.” Jiang Wanyin’s eyes narrow, breathless. “You… don’t do that, do you?”

The sudden question had him reeling. No, he doesn’t die every night. At least, he is certain that he is very alive despite all that’s happened so far. Jiang Wanyin should know this, considering they trade celestial bodies at the end of every night and day.

He recalls the words Jiang Wanyin said came from a story he had once read. Whoever thought up the beautiful line should be blessed. Although, it seems that Jiang Wanyin had taken the poetry word by word rather than by meaning. That earns him a chuckle.

“I do not. But I would.”

Jiang Wanyin balks. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Everything, he thinks. Anything and everything for you.

“I am afraid I am not bold enough for such a confession.”

“What do you mean by confession? Did you lie about dying? No, of course not, you don’t lie.” Jiang Wanyin starts pacing back and forth. Stops in front of him. Immediately starts pacing again. Stops. “I don’t want you to die,” he announces.

“I did not plan on doing so.”

“Then what about the damn confession you spoke of?!”

Lan Xichen sighs. He stops Jiang Wanyin before he starts pacing again, planting two palms on his arms. “Do you not know the rest of the story?”

“Story?”

“The line that you told me came from a story.” He smiles, recalling the old scripture and found it fitting. “For the sun loves the moon so much, it dies every night just to let it breathe. And though the sun would shine, it would do anything to see the moon glow.”

Jiang Wanyin was red under his touch. “Oh.”

Lan Xichen’s fingers tingle, the flesh under them warm. His eyes catch on the cerulean ones staring back at him. He swallows, unconsciously licking his lips. Why was everything so dry again?

“…death, for a glimpse. Truly poetic, is it not?”

“It’s fucking dumb.” Despite the crude words, Jiang Wanyin’s voice was little but a quiet whisper. “Why die when they meet at dusk or dawn?”

“It is impossible for them to stay together.”

“Yeah? Well achieve the impossible then.” Like magnets, or perhaps celestial bodies, they were pulling each other closer. Lan Xichen could feel his breath.

“I am no Jiang.“ I am but a Lan, and the Lan love too deep.

“But I am. And if I say stay longer for just a glimpse, would you?”

He was burning. Burning like the sun.

“Yes.”

Oh, how the sun loves the moon.

And how the moon loves the sun in return.

#mdzs #xicheng #day and night au #lan xichen #jiang cheng #submissions #thank you so much again a-passing-passerby!!! this made my stressful day as i read it again 💜💜💜💜#reblogging this masterpiece again #look at the lore based on my first draft of my day and night au!!!!! AHHHHH #i was scrolling through my profile's jc tag because im slowly returning to my roots and huzzah im pleasantly surprised by this again #AAAHHHH DAY AND NIGHT AU MY BELOVED #i miss you so muchhh #I'll maybe draw for it again 🌞🌛#YALL IM STILL SCREAMING TO THIS DAY #mo dao zu shi

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