saberwielder

[saberwielder]

🤐 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴. 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩. 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 (+ 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦) 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦.

🕊️ 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

01. gently brushing the other's hair out of their face to tuck behind their ear. 02. wrapping a blanket around their shoulders from behind. 03. brushing tears off of their cheeks. 04. reaching out hesitantly before resting a hand on their back. 05. placing a cup of tea or coffee in front of them. 06. sitting beside them while they are asleep to watch over them. 07. sharing silence with them. 08. pulling them into a tight hug. 09. writing something quietly and passing them the note. 10. fixing a piece of their clothing carefully.

🔥 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

01. staring at them in silence for a long moment before walking away. 02. slamming a door shut without explanation. 03. packing their things up, slowly and deliberately. 04. breathing sharply through their nose and refusing to meet their eyes. 05. cleaning something obsessively in silence.

🥀 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

01. running their thumb over the others bottom lip slowly. 02. standing just a little too close, enough to feel each others breath. 03. grazing their knuckles along the other's hip or thigh in passing. 04. undoing the top button of their shirt while holding eye contact. 05. leaning in like they're going to kiss and then pausing shyly. 06. sliding a hand under their chin to tilt their head up.

[saberwielder]

❝ you can be mad at me, i can take it. i'd rather you be angry than shut me out. ❞

a tender glimpse | @lanctiflora

There were no words that came to Nie Mingjue's mind that were anything but vicious, angry things. For years he had hunted dragons, following every whispered rumor, every strange occurrence that could even be attributed to the divine beasts. He had slain countless creatures that terrorized the common people, that stalked the night and feasted upon the fear it wrought. It had all been in the hopes of finding a dragon. One creature that had the ability to heal almost any ailment, to pull a man from the brink of death and allow him to live for countless years after.

They had been his only hope of saving Huaisang, his sickly little brother that never had a chance. Nie Mingjue had wasted years of his life searching for these creatures, to fall to his knees and beg for their assistance once more, to help Huaisang how they hadn't aided his father.

He would've given anything, his own life if it meant his brother could live on, healthy and happy. He would have done anything, even if that meant tearing the head from the divine beast's neck and wringing it's power out with his bare hands. He would take whatever punishment would await him, it would be worth it.

The time he had spent with Lan Wangji had been brief, in the grand scheme of things, but he had thought that they understood one another. That they had shared what they held closest to their hearts. Mingjue would have sworn brotherhood alongside Wangji, if given the chance. He would have given him the world if he wanted it, himself included.

Now though, there is only ash on his tongue, choking him as his teeth ground down against one another. ❝ You knew. ❞ His voice was quiet, broken. ❝ You knew you could have saved him. ❞ He cannot take his eyes away from the small bowl, watching as little flames lapped at the joss paper, eating away at it. Perhaps Nie Huaisang would fare better in the afterlife than this one.

His stomach churns and he closes his eyes to steady himself, inhaling the scent of lilies and smoke. It is not comforting, it brings him no peace to stand here at the dais that holds his brother's memorial tablet. The funeral is long since over, even those closest to Huaisang have left, save of Mingjue.

And Lan Wangji.

❝ Leave. ❞ He peels his eyes open, finally finding the strength to turn, to level his steady and unwavering gaze on Lan Wangji. ❝ Do not return. The next time I see you, you will find my blade at your throat. ❞ There's nothing left for him, he has lost everyone dear to him. ❝ I will put you down like the beast you are.❞

[saberwielder]

❝ i actually do care what you think about. you're probably one of the only people whose opinion matters to me. ❞

a tender glimpse | @h3artf3ltint3nt

❝If you care so much, then why do you throw yourself in harms way? ❞ It comes out rougher than he intended, a near snarl. She may be his sister, but that would not save her from the wrath of a sect leader disobeyed. Frustration bubbles in his chest, hot anger and he grinds his teeth together, turning his head away so he is no longer glaring at her.

He is angry - livid even. Time and time again he goes out of his way to ensure that his little sister, one of the only reasons he wakes in the morning and shoulders the exhausting burden of being the sect leader, to ensure she would be safe. Her and Huaisang and yet- here they are.

He stands across from her in the physician's room, watching as steady hands dab and clean a gash that's slowly beginning to congeal. It hadn't even been a nighthunt that earned her this injury. That was possibly the most infuriating part about this. But an excursion, that Nie Huaisang had convinced her to go out on, to buy more supplies.

His siblings had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He could have lost them, one or both of them, either would be devastating. The world would know no peace, not until he drove the perpetrator's heads down onto a spike. Violence would only be a temporary balm to the ache, to the hole that would grow bigger and more consuming with each passing day until there would be nothing left of Nie Mingjue, only a aching shell of a man who has lost everything.

There is no doubt in his mind that Nie Kexin can and will defend herself, to the very best of her abilities. He's trained alongside her, helped guide her growth into a confident, talented cultivator - would dare to say that she will if not already surpass his own cultivation level. But there is only so much one person can do when outnumbered. He can't even be mad that the two of them snuck out, he's more upset about the fact that this happened in his home, in the land in which his siblings are meant to be safest.

❝ I can only do so much to protect you. Yet you insist on getting into dangerous situations. When will you stop? ❞ He can't say it isn't familiar, that he too doesn't feel the pull. the demand to do prove himself to those around him. But he shoulders the burden and responsibility of it all so his siblings could rest, to live an easier life than he has.

❝ I tell you to bring others not because I think you cannot hold our own, but because I just don't want to lose you. Do you understand? ❞ He's pacing now, all agitated energy that's bursting at the seams to get out. He's very intentionally leveling his voice, trying to keep it at an even kilter. Fingers flex at his sides and Baxia trembles at his back, demanding to be drawn, to taste the blood of the men who dared to threaten his sister and brother.

❝ When will you finally believe that you're good enough? Stop trying to prove yourself.❞

[saberwielder]

a tender glimpse beneath the surface

❝ i'll always protect you. ❞

❝ i never meant to get this close, but now that i have i can't let you go. ❞

❝ i live for the moments when you look at me. the rest of the time i'm just existing. ❞

❝ i don't like how you make me feel. but i like not being around you even less. ❞

❝ i wish you wouldn't look at me like that. when you look at me like that i...it makes me wanna do things i shouldn't ❞

❝ there's no line i wouldn't cross for you. don't you realize that? ❞

❝ i did this for you. no one else. ❞

❝ i don't like it, but i'll do it for you. ❞

❝ i wonder how much of myself i'll have to give to you—how much i have to lay bare—before you realize how much you're taking. ❞

❝ i'm not trying to fix you. i'm just trying to be your friend. ❞

❝ i'm not um, real good at thank yous. or sorry's. but if you ever need me, i'm there. i owe you one. ❞

❝ i've seen you at your worst and i'm still standing here. ❞

❝ you've seen me at my worst but you're still here... ❞

❝ you can be mad at me, i can take it. i'd rather you be angry than shut me out. ❞

❝ i'm not angry, i'm just scared. ❞

❝ i know you love me, but do you like me? ❞

❝ do you think i'm a good person? ❞

❝ do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference? of course i'm helping you. ❞

❝ tell me what i can do to show you how i love you. i will give you anything you ask for. ❞

❝ you don't have to keep apologizing. just be here. day in and day out and prove that you're gonna keep showing up. that's all you have to do. ❞

❝ i only sleep well when you're next to me. ❞

❝ i don't want an apology i just want to understand. ❞

❝ i could actually use a hug right now. ❞

❝ i want everyone else to go away, but you can stay. ❞

❝ i actually do care what you think about. you're probably one of the only people whose opinion matters to me. ❞

❝ you always seem to know what i need. ❞

❝ you always seem to know just what i need to hear. ❞

❝ i want you to call me when you need someone. i want to be here for you. ❞

❝ you're the one i wanna call when i need someone. ❞

❝ seems like i always want you around when everything feels all fucked up. guess that means something. ❞

[saberwielder]

He should not be so taken off guard by the Lan's refusal to accept help, even in the most dire of situations they refused to cry out. Whether it was because they refused to seem weak or simply did not want to owe another sect a favor in return, Nie Mingjue doesn't know. Irritation sparked in his chest as the other begins to wriggle in his grasp, to stand on two unsteady feet. Reluctantly, he releases the hold he has on the other cultivator, watching as he sways and collapses to the ground again.

It had been a valiant effort, however it was not enough. There were some truths one had to accept, limits that had to be respected. He knows that the Lan's have a rigid schedule, strict in their training and all that they do. But even they should know when enough is enough, when to retreat and lick one's wounds. Nothing good would come from continuing to strain and push, if anything it would make his recovery a more painful and dragged out process.

The title Nie Mingjue holds as sect leader is something dear to him, it it a badge of honor and trust that he wears with pride. He tries to do right by those he serves and interacts with, he tries - unlike some other sect leaders- to refrain from abusing the power and respect that comes with such a title. He takes no pleasure in what is to come.

❝ No. ❞ Short, simple. He refuses to allow a cultivator so badly injured, to leave his sight. Leaving a man in this condition out in the elements, surrounded by hungry beasts and ferocious creatures, would be a death sentence. He was many things, but he did not needlessly send men to their deaths.

If roles were reversed, if it had been Qinghe that burned instead of Gusu, would Lan Xichen send aid? Surely he would rescue recover an injured man, refuse to let him go until he was once again healthy. Nie Mingjue was not as kind of a man as Lan Xichen, however he could try. This was the least he could do for a sect in need.

❝ There is nothing you can do. ❞ He drops into a low crouch, ignoring the way his knees creaked and ached with the movement. Years of hard training would do that to a man, would leave him with aches and pains that even an evening spent in QInghe's hot springs would not ease. ❝ If I leave you out here, you will die. ❞ He has no doubt about it, the forest had no qualms swallowing men whole, cultivators or not if given the chance.

Above them, wind dances through the leaves and the branches, somewhere in the distance is a wail, high and piercing. Most likely its a fox, however he knows better than to assume. Mingjue had been running a risk, traversing through the forest at night, but he was running out of time too. Nie Huaisang remained in Whinge, growing weaker with each passing day. Their physicians were tired and quickly running out of ideas. Gusu had been Nie Mingjue's last sliver of hope and now, thanks to the Wen, it had been burned to nothing more than ash. The wind shifts, the faint scent of ash and smoke filled the air. He tilts his head back, peering through the foliage - or at least hoping to- to see the dying embers of Gusu. No such luck.

❝ You are coming to Qinghe, I will not hear another word against it. ❞ He would bind this man with ropes by his wrists and ankles if he must. He leaves little room for argument, taking a step back, turning them so that they may begin their long journey to Qinghe. It was too dark now to try and fly through the forest, they would need to wait until sunrise before they could step onto Baxia and take to the sky.

Lan Wangji knew that pleading his case while resembling a battered and defeated man was a lost cause. The burning eyes of the Nie sect cultivator delivered a message of determination. In his blurred pain, Lan Wangji was unable to recognize Lan Xichen's sworn brother of whom he had heard legendary tales. Xichen wasn't so quick to introduce Lan Wangji to his closest friends in other clans, even though Wangji's cultivation erased any trace of his divine nature. There was a whispered worry among the leadership that other representatives possessed skills superior to their disciplines, which would have unveiled Lan Wangji's careful cocoon of suppressed powers and the absence of a golden light in his core.

Wangji's core was tinted in violet, a core ominous to the sight but tender to the touch. It was an ancient bundle of power that held a history of the world's beginning and premonitions of its end. With Lan Wangji's presence, snowfall felt purer as it brightened up the mountains. The dragon's ice resembled a crystal surface of an immortal mirror as it swept over chilling rivers and lakes. With such power, anyone could forge a weapon that would rule the world. Or so the myths believed, shoving Lan Wangji deeper into seclusion as he waited for the doors leading into his adoptive mother's pavilion to open. She would have had the answers, he thought.

Lan Wangji gasped when a single hand twisted his stained robe, removing the last of his dignity by bringing him upward. Staring at the quickly retreating ground, Lan Wangji uncharacteristically wiggled his limbs like a feline pleading to be let go. Blood gathered at the edge of his mouth, and Wangji grimaced, clenching his teeth to force the metallic wave back into his stomach. The taste of fear bubbled in his throat, a feeling that Wangji suppressed for a long time. His eyes lacked the expression, unlike his injured body. While he narrowed his eyelids to hide the glistening worry in his pupils, his back curved to compensate for the assault in his stomach. His lilac trembled in its gilded disguise, aware that its master was in danger of losing blood in his human form. It demanded to be let out to eliminate the ridiculous mortal turmoil. It would have been easy to lick the wound, but even an immortal being was not immune to pain, especially in this form.

"Yes." He answered firmly, gaining some leverage by swinging his legs down to stand as well. His injured leg shrieked in pain, and Wangji pressed his lips in a tight line, letting out a heavy sigh. Vision still compromised by the swirling panic, Lan Wangji's mind wandered to Lan Xichen's flashing eyes in a grand distance of a burning memory.

Qinghe was far away from this side of the mountain and Lan Wangji ran a risk of being exposed to the elements of unknown cultivations. He was taught everything he was supposed to know as a Lan heir but not as a dragon. It was improper to learn of your allies' weaknesses and guess their secrets. Despite his curiosity, Lan Wangji was even forbidden from accessing that part of the Library Pavilion until he proved himself to be a true cultivator. Back then, the young Wangji found it rather troublesome that even the sect that adopted the dragon, presumably neutral to the divine, still distrusted them. It saddened him, but he refused his intrusive doubts.

Forcing himself through the pain, Lan Wangji straightened, uttering for the Nie cultivator to let him go. The taller man had an impressive grip, and Lan Wangji sensed his energy. However, there was something else with him that sprouted an ominous aura around it. The aura pulled the dragon's senses toward the saber at the other man's hip, and at once, something seized Wangji from inside, stealing all the air from his lungs. Like an arrow piercing his flesh, an invisible needle prickled his lilac core and sent him collapsing on the ground again, vomiting blood. That blade...it carried a dragon's aura. Lan Wangji felt his vision fading in and out as he dug his hands into the ground, veins bulging at the tops of his hands. With a choked voice, he suddenly shouted:

"Please leave. I can manage. I just need rest. Here." Wangji's body began to tremble as his core shrunk and golden cracks formed on the inside of his disguise, oozing warm purple-tinted light from his eyes. He shut them immediately and inhaled through his flared nostrils. "There is nothing you can do. I need a moment. Leave." He shook his head and averted his face from the Nie sect cultivator. As he swallowed another mouthful of blood, Lan Wangji couldn't shake the thought that he was just reunited with his real sibling confined in a scabbard.

[saberwielder]

He watches as Lan Wangji's normally stoic and unreadable face turns a lovely shade of red, a stark contrast from the normal. He takes far more pleasure in the way that Lan Wangji recoils not from fear, but rather concern. He's nervous, something that very few people get to see. He relishes in it, even if this is just for a moment.

There is no denial though, Lan Wangji doesn't say no. Instead he asks if Mingjue has ever been with a dragon. Of course he hasn't, not intentionally at the least. Those who he has laid with have never shown any signs of being a divine being, of anything more than a human cultivator. ❝ Not that I am aware of. ❞ He admits with a shrug, because he sincerely doubts that he has slept with a dragon before. Lan Wangji would be his first, he's far more excited than he ought to be.

The confession wrenches a smile from Nie Mingjue and he laughs, loud and full of warmth. He's not one to back down from a challenge, surely Lan Wangji knows this by now. ❝ I am sure I can manage. ❞ It wasn't as though they were going to go at each other without preparation, Mingjue was bold but he wasn't foolish. Perhaps in his youth, he would have suggested they just go at it, urged on by the little time to himself that he had and the follies and inexperience of youth. Now though, he had less time to himself. More people depended on him and he couldn't afford to spend a day or two recovering from something as foolish as poor planning.

❝ I'm up for the challenge if you are. ❞ He would take and have Lan Wangji however he could, so long as it was given freely. If Lan Wangji decided that no, he didn't want to even attempt while in his true form, then so be it. He's handsome as is, his human form built as though itself was an offering to higher beings. He was unfairly pretty, and Mingjue has certainly said as much to him. He's positive that Lan Wangji has been told by others as well. It would be no burden or disappointment to lie with him as he was now.

Mingjue was simply offering, making it known that however Lan Wangji would want to do so, he was more than alright with it. The idea was thrilling, set his heart racing in his chest and heat curling in his belly at the thought. He had never considered sleeping with a dragon before, mostly because he had been so determined to find one to heal his father, to aid and ease his brother's pain.

❝ You can say no, Wangji. ❞ That, he wanted to make abundantly clear. There would be no wrong answer for this, Mingjue would not force the subject if this truly wasn't something Lan Wangji wanted. ❝However I am not a small man myself, I can take far more than you think. ❞ He had so far survived his own cultivation, the deviations that felt as though he were being torn apart from the inside. They had not bested him yet, though they were excruciating, never-ending things.

He closes the little distance left between them now, propriety be damned. He reaches up to cup Lan Wangji's cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin. It's meant to be reassuring, to help him keep Lan Wangji's gaze, but he is just a man, weak to golden eyes and finely built bodies, power coiled behind each muscle. It is not often he meets men stronger than he, whose cultivation surpasses alongside raw strength.

He knows if Lan Wangji wanted, he could snap him in two.

The thought alone spurs him into motion, pulling Wangji closer for their lips to crash together in a heated, hungry kiss. It has been quite some time since he's found pleasure in another. Want boils beneath his skin, makes him feel almost desperate for this. For him.

Lan Wangji's eyes are pinned against the sect leader, who easily decreases the space between them in a matter of seconds. The golden-eyed cultivator grows still, pinned to the chair he occupies. Nie Mingjue's shadow washes over him with layers of tension, and Lan Wangji tilts his head to gulp air through flared nostrils. He is bestowed with the face of a warlord so serious that Wangji is stunned into silence. His mouth parts to protest, but there is no debate about Nie Mingjue's desire. The sect leader states it plainly and when all cards fall into place and the words catch up with him, he finally realizes.

Lan Wangji discovers a new shade of red that drowns his face and neck. It is not quite beet-red, and crimson may just grow jealous of it. Nie Mingjue's towers over the man who competes with his height and yet Lan Wangji feels small. Smaller than an ant. Maybe even a microbe. His breath catches in his throat and his lips part and snap together like a fish torn from its ocean bedding and thwarted upon itchy sand. This is something he does not expect; quite frankly, never did. Lan Wangji hiccups silently as his lungs scream for him to inhale. Usually, he can regain himself quickly and hide the shame and sin behind a thick wall of ice. But now? His walls are shattered by words so sharp that Lan Wangji spirals into paralyzing numbness. He does not have the power to call the sect leader shameless, even if it is out of turn. Formalities aside, Lan Wangji finally speaks:

"You-" what is he supposed to say to the famed Chifeng-Zun? Lan Wangji presses back against the chair. He cannot run away as Nie Mingjue blocks his way. He studies his broad chest with quivering golden suns, and softly his teeth worry his bottom lip. He wants the dragon, a voice tells Lan Wangji directly into his ear; he hides his face by averting his gaze and clutching his white robes. Not only that the sect leader makes a bold request, but he also proposes an order for their joining. Lan Wangji swallows a thick knot in his throat and slowly looks up.

"Nie Mingjue..." he pauses, studying his counterpart's lips as his eyes crawl upward with timid reluctance. He cannot hold eye contact for long. This is frivolous!

"Have...you ever.....with a...dragon?" He confesses, voice small and distant. A part of him doesn't want to hear the answer if it is positive. If Nie Mingjue knew other dragons, Wangji would find himself quite distraught. He shakes his head.

"I am......big." He whispers, covering his mouth with his fingertips as his wide eyes fill with regret. Still, the hairs on his lower neck stand at attention as warmth pools into his stomach. Nie Mingjue wants him in his true form? It's an honor, terrifying or not. He breathes softly, averting his gaze again.

[saberwielder]

Sometimes, Huaisang really does want to help his brother. Yes, he could help by practicing his saber, but he'd rather not do that. Way too taxing and he'd sweat! Eeew! Instead he decides to help with some paperwork, which is very boring, but at least it doesn't make him sweat and it doesn't involve a saber.

So, while Mingjue is busy doing other things, Huaisang starts looking at letters and other papers, which is so, so boring and most of the people contacting his da-ge are idiots. Not that he's going to mention that. Though, he does makes a few notes. Otherwise, all he does is sorting the stuff. This way, Mingjue will have less to do and maybe he can spend some extra time with Huaisang.

Okay, yes, the main reason wasn't just to help his da-ge, but to free some more time for him because, despite them regularly butting heads, Huaisang misses him and he has been awfully busy as of late.

By the time Mingjue returns, Huaisang has finished note writing and sorting and is sleeping, head pillowed on his arms.

(age/time is up to you, should you choose to answer this unprompted thing)

There had been a time in his life, one long ago where Nie Mingjue could not no matter how hard he tried, shake his brother from his side. It didn't matter what he was doing, Nie Huaisang was there, either crowding his space or just far enough out of harm's way if Mingjue was practicing, to watch with excitement in his eyes. It had been annoying, frustrating at times, but Mingjue bit his tongue. His little brother would not remain so little forever and there were certain allowances that were afforded to him as a second son.

There would come a time where Huaisang sought other tasks, hobbies and chores to fill his time with, rather than following his older brother around. Mingjue, though could not pinpoint when the two of them began to grow apart. If he had to guess it would be sometime around when their father died, when Mingjue reluctantly had to take the position of head of the sect. His already limited free time now eaten up by extra duties that his father had avoided giving to him for years. He found that there was no more time to train simply because he wanted to. The few nighthunts he went on, dropped to zero. The rare visits to friends from afar - such as Lan Xichen - were no more. His sect came first, his people needed him and he could not and would not let them down.

Even if that meant losing the precious time he had with Huaisang. Years flew by and as much as Mingjue hated to admit it, he allowed them to drift even further apart. Huaisang seemed to throw himself into his studies - but only the subjects he found interesting - and leaned into the arts, more often than not leaving his saber to collect dust in his rooms. It's a disappointment that Huaisang has not followed in Mingjue's footsteps, taking to the saber and sect business. But Mingjue knows better than to say as such. There's no use in fighting it, though he knows that they will argue again, its inevitable these days.

Mingjue hates how angry he feels, how he snaps at his brother when in the past his ramblings or sly comments and his faux innocence wouldn't have been more than a mild irritation. And yet, every time Mingjue opens his mouth, it's another cutting remark, his voice laced with disappointment and anger.

He's tired, there's a bone deep exhaustion, there is no rest for him, there is always something that he has to do, something he needs to fix. He wakes in the mornings with clenched teeth and tense shoulders. He goes to sleep with a pounding headache and a list that he will never complete.

It's far from late, when he manages to finally make it to his rooms, to review endless and terribly boring reports and letters. In fact, the sun is still up, crawling towards the horizon, but up nonetheless. The kitchens ought to be bustling by now in preparation for dinner. He steps through the door only to pause, the sight before him catching him off guard. He had not been expecting Huaisang to be there, let alone surrounded by the very paperwork Mingjue had been putting off for most of the day. It doesn't look done, far from but there's notes written in Huaisang's steady, clean hand and they look to be sorted in some sort of manner. Which was...More than Mingjue had been planning to do.

He takes a moment to let this sink in, before he's moving forward, crossing the room in a few large strides, to press his hand to his brother's shoulder and rock him back, once. "Huaisang." There's a softness to his voice that wasn't normally there. "This is no place to sleep."

@cuckoo-among-beasts

[saberwielder]

@lanctiflora continued from here

A moment of silence passes between the two of them and Nie Mingjue accepts the denial. He had made an attempt, was turned down and that was the end of that. He would not press the matter further. Unlike other unsavory figures in the cultivation world, he would not press his suit, he found no pleasure in taking what was not freely given.

However, he's not entirely sure that what he had asked, was what Lan Wangji heard. His brows knit together and he finds himself leaning down and in, admittedly encroaching on Lan Wangji's space. ❝ I don't mean in ways of transport. ❞

When there's no immediate recognition, he gives up at his attempt of honeyed words -even if it really cannot be called that. He thought he was blunt and upfront enough, but apparently not. ❝ I want to ride your dick. Not you as - ❞ He waves his hand, in Wangji's general direction. ❝ Yourself ❞ He settles on.

A pause as he considers his words.

❝ Not immediately at least. Maybe after a round or two.❞

[saberwielder]

"...............your shoes. Surrender them."

❝ ...What? ❞ He is no stranger to odd requests, he's lived with his brother for years, he's learned to deal with his quirks and he's trained and fought alongside countless men, who all had their own way of doing things. He's even somewhat used to Lan Wangji's habits, strange as they can be at times.

This seems to be another one of those times.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, staring the other man down with a steady gaze. ❝ You don't need my shoes. ❞ He tenses, prepared to jerk back should Lan Wangji lunge his way. ❝ You have your own. ❞

@lanctiflora

[saberwielder]

⌨

Talking about the muse | @h3artf3ltint3nt

⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse? 

It's less of a situation but an AU. A Nier Automata au for Nie Mingjue would be so fun. ( Or any of my muses tbh ) But I think his personality would fit into the part of 2B's very well and I think he'd have a very dramatic arc and it'd be very fun. I won't go further into detail because then I'll be getting into spoiler territory but yeah, a Nier Automata AU.

[saberwielder]

✍💢😩

Talking about the muse | @cuckoo-among-beasts

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?

That he’s stubborn and kind of an asshole when he wants to be. Or even unintentionally. He sees things in a very black and white manner and if something doesn’t align with his moral code it’s bad. I personally have a bad habit of trying to understand where everyone is coming from and trying to justify things and wrong doings against my person. Mingjue doesn’t take any of that. He’s very set in his ways and his thoughts on the world. Not to say that he’ll never make exceptions but he’s much more self assured and confident and I just really love that about him.

💢Something about the muse that annoys you?

Probably that he’s so one track minded. He’s got ambition yes but he’s never satisfied with what he has and he’s constantly pushing himself as well as his loved ones to do better because he knows they can be. He will just not give up and it would be a disservice to his character if I wrote him as someone more chill and without that ambition.

😩 Hardest thing about writing the muse? 

Balancing the line of being too lenient with his loved ones while simultaneously being rigid and unyielding because of his stubbornness. He adores his family and he wants absolutely nothing but the best for them but sometimes they don’t know what they need and he does so he has to be the villain. I’m a people pleaser by nature, he is not. It’s hard as hell to write someone with such a spine without making them needlessly cruel.

[saberwielder]

This has been on my mind for long but I’m gonna do this - please reblog this if you’re comfortable with pre-establishing relationships. I do not mean “met at the grocery store two weeks ago” or “have a common friend”, but rather stuff like “have been best friends since kindergrden”, “go for a beer every friday”, “friends with benefits”, “dated in highschool”, “hate each other’s guts because -insert reason-”  etc. Something meaningful (but not necessarily shippy) and I mean with muns/characters you have not interacted with, because I cannot believe I am the only one who prefers jumping right into the heart of the human interaction.

[saberwielder]

Mun talks about the Muse

Send one of the following to ask the mun… (please specify muse for multis)

✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse? 👀Favorite thing about the muse’s appearance? 🌌Favorite alternate version of the muse? 💕Favorite ship for the muse?  💔Least favorite ship for the muse? 💢Something about the muse that annoys you? 😈Worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse?  😂Funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse?  💡 What inspires you to write the muse?  📷 Favorite picture/screencap of your muse? 📑 Favorite part of your muse’s backstory?  📝 Favorite headcanon for your muse?  😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?  🔮 What do you see in your muse’s future?  🔥 Unpopular opinion about your muse?  💭 Favorite memory of the muse?  😩 Hardest thing about writing the muse?  ⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse?  🎭 How similar are you and the muse? 

[saberwielder]

©

[saberwielder]

 Ⓐ - sectleaderjiang

Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours | @sectleaderjiang

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

[saberwielder]

“Toy Soldiers” by Marianas Trench. gosh, love this song a lot!!!! <3

[saberwielder]

To see a Lan - given away by the ever present and unmistakable ribbon tied around his head - so bedraggled and crawling through the mess of leaves, soiling the clean white robes that Nie Mingjue knew the Lan to wear, was cause for concern. While not overly friendly with Gusu Lan, Qinghe Nie were considered their allies, expected to come to their aide when war fell and tensions were high. News of the Wen attacking would be a rallying call for the Nie and as soon as news reached them, they would be preparing to set off, to aide Gusu Lan however they saw fit.

It would be days before news would reach his sect and even more before they made it to Cloud Recesses, even if they flew out immediately.

Nie Mingjue is just one man though, he has Huaisang to think about, his sect. He cannot, no matter how much his gut wishes to, storm Cloud Recesses now. It would be a death sentence and would do nothing to help the Lan with their situation. Instincts still scream to do so though, to unsheathe Baxia and fly to the base of the mountain, to ascend the seemingly endless stairs and take on the Wen himself, to satiate the bloodlust Baxia felt, to tear them apart until there was nothing left. The Wen were dangerous, powerful and they had been expanding their territories, swallowing up sects smaller than their own for years, gaining power that they were unafraid to wield.

They claimed to have slain dragons, to wring the divine beasts of every last drop of power they held, to sew their scales to their armor, to sharpen their claws and teeth into weapons, to cut the horns from their heads and display them in their homes, a display of their power and might. Nie Mingjue has yet to see them himself, their claims were just that, claims, until he laid his own eyes upon them, he wouldn’t recognize them as truthful.

What’s more, is even if they have slain dragon in the past, they would not be so kind as to share its power with another sect, for a dying heir. No, Mingjue could not allow them to know of Huaisang’s illness, how there are days where his younger brother cannot drag himself from bed, where his slim frame is wracked with wheezing coughs and his lips are stained red with blood.

No, not only would he never get his hands on a dragon then, but he would be endangering his brother even further, the entirety of the sect, they would be the next to fall, joining the Lan in a scrambling, desperate attempt to find their footing again. If the Nie fell too, it was unlikely that either sect would rise again.

❝ No need for concern? ❞ With Cloud Recesses burning, the shuddering breath and the clear struggle to even stay conscious, Nie Mingjue sincerely doubted such a thing was true. It was no wonder he couldn’t see the stars tonight, even through the foliage of the trees above them. ❝ You’re sorely mistaken. ❞

If what the Lan said was true, then the forest wouldn’t be safe to reside in, they both needed to get out as quickly as possible lest the Wen find them. He takes a breath, brows furrowed for just a moment before he crouches down, gathering the fabric at the Lan’s back and pulling up, bringing the man up with him as he stood. He wasn’t heavy, no more so than a normal cultivator but Mingjue certainly couldn’t hold him one handed like this all night.

❝ Can you walk? ❞ Unlikely, given the state he’d found him in. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even asked. Now, every snap of twigs, the rustle of leaves pulled his attention away from the man in front of him, searching for Wen soldiers. Shadows still danced around them, as his torch continued to burn. ❝ I’ll fly you back to Qinghe, there you’ll rest and recover.❞

Lan Xichen gently captured Lan Wangji's wrist, crouching near a youth of ten years, sobbing in front of a shattered vase. Tiny white horns, a mere seedling, protruded from his forehead, causing the boy pure agony. He was scratching at himself, gripping his head, and in his whirling pain, he knocked off his uncle's expensive vintage accessory. The vase's intricate design, depicting ascending cranes and swaying lotus, scattered across the floor in pieces. Wangji gripped the shards in his tiny hands, squeezing until he bled as his scales glinted against the sun. His older brother tugged at his wrist, whispering that there was nothing to be upset about. That a vase was replaceable and that little Wangji had nothing to worry about. He implored his sibling not to cry and to consider worse outcomes while gently plucking ceramic bits from his cuts. He cooed to the dragon, murmuring that there was nothing wrong with him but that it was best for him to get used to the change. Wangji promised later, some months after his horns stopped soring his skull, that he would cultivate as a human. Lan Xichen shook his head and told him that being a human was not a physical manifestation. Lan Wangji considered it, took it to heart, and wrapped his white ribbon around his head to claim his human visage and erase the stubs of horns with pure willpower. It was not until he met Wei Wuxian that he showed his true self again, drunken on wine he accepted as a means to fuel his curiosity. Dragons were wise beings but Gusu Lan Clan's rules exhibited control over humans, not divine beings. Lan Xichen was right regarding the heart but no one could deny that Lan Wangji was anything but human.

When Wangji turned seventeen, he saw his kind slain and butchered. It was autumn when he entered a ginkgo  forest. The golden ocean welcomed him with an open-armed chilly breeze. Something tugged him here during the sunset that drenched the shivering leaves in bloodied gold. Lan Wangji was alone, training with Bichen as he scouted the area. His eyes were as bright as the ginkgo leaves and his robes stood out like a snow-white rabbit sitting among red silks. He ventured upon a golden bed of fallen pieces until he reached a stark trail of blood splattered against the ginkgo  backdrop. He paused, considering turning back to call for help but his heart howled for him to continue. And so he advanced, approaching an opening of horror: a bronze body in pieces, scaled and once legendary, now reduced to a limbless nothing. A head, decapitated and tucked underneath a ginkgo  blanket with a long tongue coiled and black. A dragon, just like himself, executed in a quiet forest: a sight of blasphemy. There was no incense to pay the dragon respects or the elements it once wielded. It was abandoned and utterly alone. Lan Wangji stood there for a long time, unaware that his own antlers protruded from his head and tears stained his pale cheeks. His fangs nicked at his bottom lip and a white tail, full of might, whipped against the ground, raising a cloud of leaves. His own kind, his likeness, served him a warning that the world was unkind. Lan Wangji tightened his forehead ribbon and stormed away with a swing of Bichen and a roar unnatural to his resolve. Lan Xichen did not know what had gotten into Wangji that night as the youngest Jade retreated to the Quiet Room with a complicated expression. He asked but Wangji was silent. And that was the end of that.

After some years, in passing, Lan Wangji asked why the Night Hunts sought out dragons. Lan Xichen arched his eyebrow, appearing surprised that Wangji was inquiring about the creatures again. Cloud Recess did not concern themselves with these beasts; they hadn't done so even before Wangji arrived. The mountains housed many dragons, most hidden in plain sight, others too colossal to be understood and perceived. Lan Xichen has treated his younger brother as a sibling of one blood, never mentioning his true background until then. Still, he answered from what he heard, explaining the knowledge yielded to him by Jin Guangyao who was a famed expert in dragons. The Golden Carp Tower contained thousands of manuscripts about the history of humanity and the divine but none spoke of the malice that festered from within. It was a year before Cloud Recess was ransacked by the Wen sect, looking for the rumored dragon housed deep within the pavilion.

Bleeding beneath the leaves of the forest Lan Wangji knew like the back of his hand. Behind him, on top of a mountain, a red lotus spread its burning petals, eating up the rest of Cloud Recess. His cheek was stained with blood and dirt as he dragged himself upward and collapsed again from the shooting pain in his leg. Unlike the cultivators around him, Lan Wangji's golden core existed since his birth. It wasn't actually golden but rather a weightless bundle of elements that answered him when he took to the skies. He touched wind and cloud and listened to the ancient songs he translated through his guqin when he cultivated under his brother's guidance. His healing would have been nearly instant if he allowed his divinity to overtake but in his current state, one confounded by humanity, Wangji's power was extremely limited.

It was then that a light caught his eye. The dragon lifted his head, peering at the moving shadows from the edges of his lopsided forehead ribbon. He lost all of his composure when he ran from the Wen, instructed by his brother to get as far as he could. It felt cowardly, like treason, but Lan Wangji knew there was no other choice. If he revealed he was a dragon, he would have compromised the Lan clan's reputation of remaining neutral to other sect's pursuits. He also would have died for the Wen were rumored to possess powers to subdue the dragons. They wore it on their uniforms, those scaled layers. The dragon from the ginkgo forest, Wangji learned years later, was their doing.

He drooped his head further, avoiding eye contact with the black night. The warm luminescence crept closer and Wangji shuddered as if its revealing glow hurt him. He pressed his lips into a thin line but his pounding chest erupted in heaved breathing as his wound demanded attention. The ominous hissing of an unsheathed blade terrified the once unfearing cultivator and the dragon hid his face in a dirty pile of leaves, imagining a Wen member decapitating him like the dragon in the woods. Then, there was silence. And slowly, Lan Wangji looked up, suddenly coming face to face with a man whose blade was hidden again. This was no enemy and quickly the man investigated his counterpart's uniform, looking for warning colors. The hues were foreign and it puzzled Lan Wangji why Qinghe Nie Clan made an appearance without notifying the Lan first. Blinking, the golden-eyed cultivator parts his lips, unleashing a weak, hoarse voice to introduce himself:

"There is no need for concern." He suppressed a hiccup of pain and dug his fingers into the ground. "Are you headed up the trail? Do not. Cloud Recess was-is under attack. There is nothing left." Lan Wangji stammered out, his breath hitching. "The Wen burned...everything." His hold gave in and the man spread beneath the leaves again, breath dying as his vision blurred. Still, he held himself composed, using the last bits of his trained cultivated will to avoid showing even a hint of his true nature.