#Loxie's fics

[loxare]

On their wedding day, he put his hand to her cheek and called her the most beautiful woman in the world.

He could have been correct, from an objective standpoint. Truly, she was one of the beauties in town. Her curls always in perfect order, her smile plump and joyous, her figure comely, even hidden modestly beneath clothing. From an objective standpoint, he was wrong, as nothing about beauty is objective, but none in the town would have disagreed with his assessment.

They spent several years together, in loving bliss. They built their house together, they planted their garden together, they grew together.

And then came the day that a hole in reality opened beneath him. Without thought, she jumped in after, a bare half second after he vanished.

When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else. The stars were different, and wrong. There was the wrong number of moons, and the sun was the wrong colour. But the worst, most egregious wrong was that he was not there next to her. This, she could not abide.

She had nothing to her name besides her labour, but that she had in abundance. She travelled, from town to town, trading hours of work for food and board. She taught herself to draw, and she drew her love. Over and over, she drew him. In the dirt, on walls, on her own clothes. Asking, always asking, if any had seen him. Eventually she acquired paper and ink, and drew her husband again. Her inquiries became easier, more frequent, although the answers never changed. For none had seen her love.

She learned many things as she travelled. She learned how to fix a carriage wheel. How to tend to livestock and how to weed a garden far larger than the one she had known. She learned to shape a bowl from clay and to chop timber and to carve wood. She learned to fight off brigands who would take from her her sparse money, her life, or worse.

She learned other things, about this place she was in. It was a place where many came, and few left. A nexus one called it. A refuse heap, another said. But the method of arrival was always the same. One moment in the familiar, the next falling into the strange. But the people were the same, for all that they were often of alien appearance. Some looked down upon her dirt covered hems and worn boots. Some ignored her. Most were willing to at least listen to her question, to look at her picture, so carefully drawn. To keep an eye out, and pass on a message should they find him.

Time passed, and passed, and passed. The world she came from did not have things such as magical crystals or soul mates or wizards, or if it did they had none of the power that those here did. Regardless, one town she stayed in recommended she find the local witch, for they specialized in red strings of fate.

And so she did. The witch gave her a bowl of stew and a comfortable chair, and then listened when she spoke, and looked carefully at the drawing. It was a different one. She had drawn many, over the years, as the old ones wore out, and as her skill increased. And the witch said that they did not know if he was indeed her soul mate, but if he was, then the red string of fate that they revealed would lead her right to him. She need only follow it.

It was not an easy ask. The witch wanted a blanket woven by her own hands in payment. And so she stayed in the town, longer than she had stayed anywhere. She traded her labour and her art for thick wool, and weaving lessons. It was near winter before she had a result she was pleased with, carefully folded in her arms to be presented to the witch. The blanket was unfolded immediately upon delivery, shaken out to its fullest extent. The blanket was scrutinized, for quality of the weave or for something else that she could not fathom. Finally, the witch nodded their head. They turned back to their cottage, moving to close the door. She protested, concerned about her end of the bargain, but needn’t have worried. For around her finger was tied a red string which hadn’t been there before. The end led off, through the woods.

And so she followed it. She followed it through fallen leaves. She followed it across rivers. She followed it through snowbanks and through melt waters and through hot summer sun. Finally, she followed it into a clearing on a mountain. And fell to her knees in despair. For in this clearing was nothing but moss, and the end of the string, fading into nothing.

She did not have long to weep however, as a hole in reality opened above her, and down he fell. Without thought, she moved to catch him.

He was just as he had been on the day she had left him. And as he opened his eyes, she suddenly felt ashamed. For he was here, perfect and whole and young. But it had been years and years for her. Her hair was frizzy and knotted. Her lips were thin, her hands were rough, and her figure both hard and flabby at once.

But he opened his eyes, and he called her name, and she nodded. And he smiled at her, and called her the most beautiful woman in the world.

On a truly objective standpoint, he was incorrect. Both because beauty was not within the realm of objectivity, but also because there were many women who could be called more beautiful, subjectively.

But she also knew that he was speaking nothing but the honest truth. For he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. He loved her hair, frizzy as it was. He loved combing it free of knots, and helping her braid it in the mornings, and loved tucking flowers into it, to surprise her when she looked in the mirror. He loved her smile, and loved seeing it, and loved being the cause of it. He loved it when she spoke to him, when she told him of the things she had done, and what she had learned. He loved her art, even as he blushed darkly at being her only subject. She taught him what she knew, and delighted when he found particular pleasure in pottery. They travelled, to find a home that suited both of them. The first time she defended him from brigands had been a terrifying and yet exhilarating experience for them both.

And they built a house. With a room full of paper and clay. And a garden, and a loom. And always, forever, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

[ramenyul-ficrecs]

hello if you tag ur fic as woc!reader and you just mean black then tag it as black!reader. as a non-black woc it's hard to find fics that cater to me as a person who isn't white or black. plz do not get my hopes up :(

[loonykatz]

Some Cyberchase OCs.

First one is Dr. Ivy. She's a doctor (duh) and has a somewhat cold and no nonsense personality, and is very condescending towards Slider. She was originally a one off character for Spaced Out, but I grew very attached to her so she's more than that now. She and Coop occasionally hooked up in the Spaced Out universe. (Bro won't escape the scaly allegations like he escaped his son for years.)

Second is Loot (The one on the right). She's Swipe's snooty adopted sister who butts heads with him often. While Swipe just steals whatever, Loot goes for more grand targets like stuff from a museum or expensive parts, and she can't stand how he conducts himself as non-serious.

Next is Foxy Loxy (Or just Foxy). She's a tragic thief/criminal from Happily Ever After. Her past is of course shady, and her personality is mischievous and sassy. She's a character I'd like to have appear in a future fic where she gives a traumatized and hostile Slider a hard time at first, but they eventually become semi-friendly or as friendly as Slider can be after seeing his dad get mutilated in front of him.

Next are Hammer and Mallet, some cyber sharks that bully randos on the beach. Their personalities are stereotypical high school jocks, jawks if you will.

Last ones are Buck Headshot, Tank, and Guava. (The others are just Hammer and Foxy again.)

Buck is a former drill sergeant from the cyber military, and is very strict and cruel. He stole some important metal from Slider's place, and made him work under him to get it all back. At one point he whips Slider into shape and pushes him over the edge physically and mentally.

Tank is Buck's sentient training dummy. Buck gave said dummy feelings and emotions just to fuck with whoever he trains. Also, Tank's gender is unknown but uses any pronouns.

Guava is an axolotl native to Aquari-Yum. I don't have much on her yet, but her personality is that of a dramatic and girly diva.

[vulgar-display-of-escapism]

TL;DR? SOA comedy at the the bottom.

That awkward moment when you take a look at your Scrivener file for the month, check the calendar AND realize just how far behind you really are. And to think that getting back into fanfic was supposed to help with actually getting the word after word thing going... Ideas, sure, a metric ton at this point, execution of said ideas however...

This post is another approach to make myself accountable. No more new ideas until I finish and post at least half of these:

As of right now these are the WIPs for SOA and Mayans I've foolishly started this month:

Chibs' NSFW/ kinky ABCs ( posted a part of it)

Tig's - same (also posted a snippet)

Happy's - same

Post S7 SOA fic ( but it's a happy one) with Bobby being alive and finding love, Chibs and Lyla getting together. Oh, and Chibs and Althea have a daughter in this one. Ooops 👀

That one nasty thing with Chibs, Hap and Tig at the cabin (the one from my high school maths post)

SOA guys as single guys - more of a HC than a fic, I guess

Happy pinning after / dating a radio host

SAMCRO hobbies

A loose Creeper/ Kody idea that won't leave me alone

'Salvage' - Marcus is hell-bent on not only saving but also healing Santo Padre charter, so he takes them on rides. There's dive bars, dancing on tables, threesomes in no-name motels.

That weird thing with Tara and Tig ( don't look at me like that) 👀

Plus, a few more assorted messes that don't even warrant a place on the list.

Now, if only I could force my scatterbrain to actually pick one or two of these and FOCUS...

Tig: *being the obnoxious narrator that he is* In fact, she could not get her brain to focus on actually writing. Historically speaking, that rarely happens.

Hap: And never this close to the end of the school year...

Chibs: Guess we ain't gettin' any for another three weeks....

Tig: But I already got the body paint AND the whipped cream... Can't we just, like, burn all those shitlings' senior papers and kidnap Loxi to the damn cabin?

[fairyhaven13]

Funtime Foxy (Loxy) and Lia (Millie/Ballora) dancing in a mossy tunnel in Silent Hill. I tried my best to get this done before the month was up in honor of Security Breach coming out. Considering how little energy I’ve had, it’s a miracle this is out so close to January. BUT. GUESS WHAT. I FINALLY finished the first part of my FNAF series that I’ve been talking about on here! The first chapter is up here!! Go check it out, I had a ton of fun writing it and I’m excited to share it. 

It’s only Act 1, which is Pizzeria Simulator. Act 2 is when I start mixing in Ultimate and Help Wanted with the atmosphere of Silent Hill. Act 3 will be Security Breach, so if that’s what you’re hoping for, please bare with me until then! I’m sure you’ll like this AU if you try it. It’s mostly canon compliant for this first story, just with Millie from the books working with Michael to get the job done in Simulator. Then it will branch out wildly from there. Give it a shot!

Thoughts on the art under the cut.

I was going for a tunnel in a park with greenery in the distance but I think it looks more like a sewer. Oh well. It’s good practice.

I gave Loxy more patterns on his jacket to go with the circusy theme, and Lia is currently halfway between her Millie and Ballora form here, hence the outfit. They dance a lot together, even before Loxy realizes that Lia has a crush on him. He just loves being a showman and so he spontaneously dances and sings a lot, and Lia is happy to join in, especially once she’s part Ballora, because Ballora was made for showbusiness, after all. Funny tries to join in, but Funtime Freddy was not made for singing, he was made for comedy, and so his singing voice is squawky and hideous. It makes the others laugh, at least.

[crazypercheron]

Inktober Day 13. Guarded. Sorry I'm late. I woke up with this migraine and gross hacking my lungs out. And the Nyquil was making me loopy at the end, so sorry about that bendy shovel, but I got it done! Yayy... *Goes to die in her bed*

[redrobin-detective]

Robin if you run into any good "Ben with his moth babies" fics PLEASE rec them I would love to see it

My friend loxie found this fic last night after we got into a debate on how cute the babies are. This is by the same author (also a great DP author/world builder!) but they only posted to tumblr but it melted my heart here

[ao3feed-ladynoir]

Heroes of Paris - The Chat

Heroes of Paris - the chat by healinggems

Foxy Loxy: babe

Turtly Rad: babe <3

Foxy Loxy: no that was a disappointed babe

Turtly Rad: *bro….

Words: 1126, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois

Additional Tags: Group Chat Fic, texting fic, Texting, Crack Fic, they're all dumb, they have a collective 5 braincells and 4 belong to Ladybug, Shenanigans

Read Here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/21093389

[lananiscorner]

The Difficulties Of Finding A Plot

In case  anyone is wondering why the notes for my most recent story, Sparks In Dark Water, said it was such a pain in the ass to write it, here is what it means to come up with a plot. Here is what happens to hundreds of writers every day.

This is how it happened. This is how my sanity died.

1st attempt: Okay! Loxie teasingly asked me once if I would incorporate my Thailand vacation experiences into a fic like I did with Mexico. Let’s do it! Jason in Thailand! ... ... ... Um... why is he there? Which continuity? What case is he working on? If he is just on vacation, who of the others dragged him there? What’s supposed to happen? Where am I going with this? Why can I suddenly not hold any thought for more than two minutes? WAAAAAAH!!!!

2nd attempt: Okay. You can do this. Scratch Jason being there all by himself. You wrote Airport Regrets. Make a sequel to that. With all the characters. All. The Many. Characters. Half of which I barely know. In a continuity I know next to nothing about. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

3rd attempt: Okay, make it easier. Just do a snippet of the Airport Regrets sequel with Jason and Steph or Jason and Cass. Loxare likes Steph. And Cass. Except that story is set in New 52. And I don’t know anything about their interactions in New 52 and I don’t have time for this research and WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

4th attempt: Okay. Scratch the vacation idea. It doesn’t have to be in Thailand. Let’s stay in Gotham. Loxie liked The Calling, but she wanted more medic!Jason. So why not something about Jason passing on some medical knowledge to Cass or Steph? - Why not? Oh, I don’t know brain, maybe because I don’t have the time to do extensive research on how to do proper medical... stuff... and how do I even justify Jason being there, and how do I write Steph and WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

4th attempt: Yo, brain here! Just wanted to remind you that you haven’t written a word for Gotham Banksy in two weeks, you lazy bitch. You may scream now. ^^

5th attempt: Ok. So maybe not medic!Jason. Maybe even not Jason at all. Maybe just Cass & Steph? ... Which still begs the question of WHO THE FUCK IS STEPHANIE BROWN AND HOW DO I WRITE HER?! waaaaaaaahhhh... [At this point, I no longer had strength for screaming, just pitiful wailing.]

6th attempt: Okay. So, maybe not Cass & Steph. Maybe Cass & Bruce? Post adoption? Some heart-warming fluff and--wait, what do you mean “Batman RIP”???? As in “rest in peace”? As in “well, I’ve guess I’ve done my fair share of adopting, so I guess now I can croak?” WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF...

7th attempt: So maybe something after Batman RIP and--oh, I see. They shipped her off to Hong Kong afterwards. Thank you, DC. *rolls eyes*

8th attempt: Okay, so she’s in Hong Kong now. We’re almost back in Thailand, so I guess we might as well go there. But what would bring her to Thailand? ... Oooh! I know! How about that amazing villain from her series who--”Hello, this is your brain. I would just like to inform you that you are going to feature this villain prominently in your introduction story for Arkham!Cass. Would you kindly find something else? ^^”

9th attempt: Okay. So not that villain. But what the fuck am I going to do with Cass in Thailand then? I guess she could meet Steph there and--no, no, nope. We are NOT writing Steph. Dick? *reads wiki article* Ok, I guess Dick isn’t THAT happy about her anymore at that point in canon. Tim? Oh no. Oh no no no. Who the fuck is Tim Drake? Fuck me if I know. Bruce? Nah, he pretty much set up Batman Inc. so he wouldn’t have to leave Gotham. waaaahhh...

10th attempt: So maybe not Cass after all? Maybe something completely out of the left field? I mean, I know I said no Steph, but how about Steph and Leslie in Africa and--*looks up Leslie on dc.wikia.com* ... OMG!!!!! I am saved! Heavens had mercy on me! She didn’t have ANY interactions with Cass after War Games. Leslie, you wonderful, wonderful, woman! Okay... *scribbles down* heartwarming... reunion... Cass & Leslie... in Thailand. Sweet!

11th attempt: So... is it Black Bat or Blackbat? DC, you are a fucking mess, but at this point I no longer fucking care, because I AM WRITING AND THE WORDS ARE FLOWING AND LOXIE WILL HAVE HER BIRTHDAY FIC AND THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS AND I’M HAPPY NOW SO SHUT UP BRAIN!!!

[loxare]

Taking a moment to appreciate the AO3 volunteers who, if they were being paid would still not be getting paid enough to deal with this crap

[loxare]

People on AO3 keep commenting asking if I'm dead like aksjjdkd why??? Why would you do that????? If you want to know if I'm dead there's ways you can find out? I bookmark fics, I've posted links to my tumblr, either of those will show that I'm definitely still alive. Just because answering comments gives me anxiety doesn't mean I'm dead

[loxare]

do you post your writing online anywhere?

Yup! I have an AO3, same username, and everything I post on this blog is tagged #Loxie's fics. Uh, not everything I have here on this blog is on AO3, but there's stuff there. Mostly Batman fic

[vulgar-display-of-escapism]

It's 3am

Usually it would mean posting some excerpts from my current WIPs. Alas, they are ALL THE SAME *hangs head in shame*

Fanfic writing has been... percolating on the back burner because I've been up to my elbows in both of my novels.

However, this weekend I really want to finish one of SOA smutty fics. There's too many of them living rent-free in my brain pan.

Loxi: *butts in* Are you going to tease them or what?

Me: Ain't that *your* job?

Loxi: Goodies under the cut, follow me.

WIP 1

"He started sliding his fingers along your thigh, under the hem of your dress. At the same time as he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about you, how fuckin’ perfect you looked last week when you came on Tig’s cock.” The hand on your throat gave a gentle squeeze. “Relax,” he whispered against your ear."

"

“What do you want girl?” Tig asked as his tongue was sliding down the path of your body. “Don’t you want us to tell you how pretty you are?” “We could be very sweet and gentle with you,” Chibs whispered against your neck as he trailed his rough, calloused finger up, up your thigh. “That’s not your flavor and we all know it,” you teased. “Be the wolves, but take care of me after?”"

WIP 2:

“Where did the girl come from?” “Chibby won her in a card game,” Kozik shrugged, “She seems to like him, for some reason.”

WIP3

“It’s just a phase, it will pass” Clay uttered under his breath as he covered his eyes with his free hand. “It don’t look like no confused teenage love affair” Bobby concluded over his glasses. The scene in question, currently still playing in front of their eyes, was taking place at the edge of the pool table where Tig and Juice were making out sloppily.

Alright, that's it. I'm off to sleep now.

[loxare]

An Act of True Love

I was peeling myself a pomelo and thinking about small acts of true love and anyways here you go

*

“Only an act of true love can break your curse,” the magic mirror intoned, the words washing over the princess and her knight like a wave.

With a hopeful smile, the princess turned to her knight. Her knight’s hand came up to cup her cheek, but stopped there, waiting for the princess to lean in. Their lips touched. It was a first kiss, and it was unrefined, but for the princess and her knight, it was a moment of perfect bliss. They parted with a smile, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. And then the knight’s eyes flicked down, to her princess’s neck, and she paled. “No.”

The princess turned to the magic mirror. With the face gone, it was a simple reflective surface, and it showed the curse mark still around her neck clearly. “But how?”

“My lady,” the knight cried out, tears in her eyes, “I swear, I truly do love you. I don’t know...”

“Shh.” The princess placed a hand on her knight’s cheek. “I know. As I love you.” With a sigh, she turned back to her books. Books that she had spent the last fortnight searching through before she found the incantation for the magic mirror. The magic mirror which would only allow them one question. “Perhaps the mirror was mistaken. I’ll keep looking.”

The knight nodded. She spent some time watching her princess. Staring guiltily at the white marks around her princess’s neck, stark against her dark skin, the marks which would end her princess’s life in another week. The knight wished she could help, but the language of magic was not one knights are taught, and not one that one can learn in a year, let alone a month. With a sigh, the knight stood. “I’ll find you some food.”

The mage’s tower they’d found, and had been living in for the past two weeks, had a garden filled with fruit trees of all kinds. Apples and cherries and mangoes and more that the knight had never heard of. In better times, she would have loved to walk through the garden with her princess, picking peaches and feeding the slices to her beloved. For now, the knight picked up a basket near the tower door and started walking in a random direction, filling the basket as she went.

When her basket was half full, in a part of the garden she’d never been in before, she found a pomelo tree. The green skins glistened with morning dew, and several were large enough to be ripe. The knight put her basket down and weighed a few in her hands, sniffing the skins of the heavier ones. Only one had the flowery smell she remembered from her youth. With a smile, she pulled it from the tree and placed it in her basket.

When her basket was full, she returned to the top floor of the tower, where her princess was talking to herself. “I hope the ‘true love’ this curse is expecting isn’t a man, because we’re going to have problems then.”

“I have the same hope,” the knight said, placing the basket on a low table. She would step aside for a man, if it would save her princess’s life, if it would make her princess happy. The knight stood there for a moment, staring at the pomelo and the plums, wondering why her love was not enough.

“Hey.” A hand came up to cradle her jaw. The knight covered it with her own hand, turning to face her princess. The princess smiled at her. “None of that now. Everything will be alright. We’ll figure this out.” The princess waited until her knight nodded, then turned to the basket. “What did you find? And what’s this?”

“A pomelo,” the knight said, glad she could help her princess with this at least. “It’s a fruit from my homeland. They’re a little like a grapefruit, but trickier to eat.”

“Hm.” The princess turned the pomelo this way and that, sniffing the skin. “I want to try it.”

“You keep looking,” the knight said, leading her princess back to her seat. “I’ll peel it for you.” Placing a bowl on a clear bit of desk, the knight sat down and took out her belt knife. Scoring the flesh of the pomelo, she wrestled the thick skin off. Once it was sitting in pieces in her bowl, she tugged the fruit in half. Then, carefully, she slit the membrane covering one of the segments, pulling it down and away to reveal the pink and yellow fruit beneath. She pulled the fruit out, using the tip of her knife to pick out the small seeds, and passed the segment to her princess.

Her princess took it with a smile. “You weren’t kidding. That is a process. Why can’t I eat the membrane like I can with oranges?”

“You could, but it’s very bitter. The fruit doesn’t have much sweetness.”

“Hm.” The princess turned the fruit, holding it up to the light streaming through the window. “It looks like a jewel. Thank you, my knight.” She took a bite. “Oh, delicious. I can see what you mean. It’s a very subtle sweetness.” She leaned over to give her knight a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, my knight.”

The knight blushed. “For you, my princess, it is no trouble.”

And so it went. The knight carefully extracted segments of pomelo, and the bowl of skin, membrane, seeds and pulp slowly filled. She passed each segment to her princess, who took them with a murmured thanks and ate them as she read.

Each was so intent on their task that they did not notice. For each slice of pomelo that the princess ate, the curse mark around her neck faded, fainter and fainter, until it was gone.

[loxare]

More inadvisable late night Untamed fic. I have a lab in the morning......

Based on the personality swap AU @valdrift drew

The thing about Zidian was, it didn't require a particularly strong cultivator to wield it. Not anymore. Generations of Yu cultivators had filled it with all the power it needed to be a devastating force even in the hands of a weak cultivator. What Zidian truly required in a wielder was the finesse and strength of will to only every hit what was aimed at, and a proper temper. The former could be taught, but the latter needed a solid foundation, a soul that was inclined towards thunderous indignation as the only warning for lightning strike fury.

And so, when Yu Ziyuan needed to choose one of her children to inherit her deadliest weapon, she chose Jiang Yanli.

Jiang Cheng had the core to be truly devastating with Zidian, and he would have done well with it, but he was a mischievous boy, far too easy going, and wouldn't know a slight against him if it slapped him in the face. He was quick enough to anger if someone insulted his sister, and indeed Ziyuan had had to mediate several disagreements caused by Jiang Cheng verbally or, on one memorable occasion, physically assaulting Jin Zixuan. Never mind that his sister was more than capable of verbally assaulting Jin Zixuan herself. The rest of the time, anger slid off his back like water off of a lotus leaf. Even at the tender age of nine, Ziyuan could see that her son would never have the temperament necessary to wield Zidian properly. Perhaps in short bursts, if needed, but he would never truly master it. Not like Yanli would.

The eldest child of the Jiang sect held a fury in her that can only have come from her mother. And why not? As the eldest child of a great sect, she should have everything. But the archaic rules her father insisted on enforcing prevented her from inheriting her rightful position as sect heir, instead condemning her to a life of power borrowed from her future husband, in a sect that would never appreciate her talents. It had been the best that Yi Ziyuan had been able to secure for her daughter, and it would never be enough. Jiang Cheng would inherit, and he would flourish as sect leader, Ziyuan was proud to say, but the knowledge that she would never stand in that lofty place would always weigh her daughter down. And her daughter raged under the weight.

And so, a mere two weeks after Fengmian brought that whelp of a street child into their home, Ziyuan started training her daughter in the use of Zidian.

And in the hands of Jiang Yanli, the whip roared.

A week after Jiang Yanli's twelfth birthday, her father brought home a dirty pile of rags. Those dirty rags turned out to be a boy, a quiet, shy boy who spent most of his introduction to the Jiang children hiding behind her father's robes. Even after a warm bath and a hesitantly eaten hot meal, there wasn't much of him. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller and smaller. If he could have sunk into the floor, Jiang Yanli was sure he would have. Jiang Yanli scoffed, and went to bed that night thinking that he would be run out of the sect in a week.

It didn't take nearly that long. Jiang Cheng barged into her room in the middle of the night, bawling his eyes out. It took Jiang Yanli pinching him on the thigh to shock him out of his tears enough to tell her why he was crying. "I was sad about Princess an' Jasmine an' Love an' I yelled at Wei Ying and now he's go-o-o-one!" And with that, he started crying again.

Jiang Yanli would have left it at that. Wei Ying didn't want to be here. That was clear enough. All her other shidis had been nervous when they'd arrived, but twenty minutes with Jiang Cheng had them forget their nervousness and by the end of the day, they had opened up and were running and laughing with the other disciples. Wei Ying had been in Jiang Cheng's presence for an entire evening and he had still kept himself separate and small. If he didn't want to be a Lotus Pier disciple, Jiang Yanli was very ok with letting him run off.

Except.

Her baby brother was crying.

Jiang Yanli was not a comforting person, in general. Too sharp, too quick to anger, incapable of seeing things from other people's perspectives, or at least, incapable of doing so with the ease her brother had. Sometimes an arm wrapped around her brother's shoulders, the one thing she knew worked more than it failed, was enough to stop his tears, but she could tell that in this case, it wouldn't even come close. Which meant she had to remove the source of his tears. So she stood up, dropped her quilt over her brother's head, and said, "Stay here dummy." Then she grabbed a lantern and headed out.

Wei Ying's tracks were easy enough to follow and ended at a hollow under a downed tree's roots. The light of the lantern reflected off Wei Ying's pale face. "What are you doing under there?"

"Ah. Well." It was the first time she had heard his voice. Soft and gentle, like a fall rain. "Jiang Cheng told me to go away."

Wei Ying was too deep for her to reach him. Which meant she needed to convince him to come out. Ugh. "And you listened to him? If you do that he'll get a swelled head. An even more swelled head. A-Cheng says a lot of stuff, and if you listen to everything he says you'll start believing that water ghouls sleep under the docks and lotus pods taste better with the stems still attached."

"Do they?"

"No. A-Die wouldn't let ghouls anywhere near the docks, and lotus pods taste the same whether the stem is long or not."

"Oh." Wei Ying fidgeted. "He told me to go away. That if he saw me again, he'd set his dogs on me."

"Dogs he doesn't even have anymore, thanks to you." Wei Ying flinched at her words, and Jiang Yanli winced. Well she'd already started digging this grave. "So he couldn't set them on you if he wanted to. And since he was just in my room crying about scaring you off, I don't think he wants to."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He was just sad cause his dogs are gone. He didn't mean what he said. Now get out here so we can walk back and he can tell you all of this himself."

There was a shuffle. "I hurt my ankle when I was running. That's why I crawled in here."

Jiang Yanli sighed. "Well come out here so I can carry you back, and then a-Cheng can tell you all of this."

There was another shuffle, and then Wei Ying's face appeared between the roots of the tree. Dirty again, like they hadn't just given him a bath. She gave him the lantern to hold and loaded him onto her back.

In the end, Wei Ying didn't have to wait until they got all the way to Lotus Pier to hear Jiang Cheng's apology, because he had followed them, when Jiang Yanli had expressly told him to wait for her! And he'd hurt his knee falling into a ditch. He gave Wei Ying a blinding smile when he saw him and tried to climb out of the ditch in his excitement and then almost hurt himself worse. Which meant Jiang Yanli had to carry both boys home, which meant she was angry enough to burst when she finally got there. As such, instead of heading to the rooms, she went to the kitchens for some late night cooking. Setting things on fire always calmed her down.

She set Jiang Cheng carefully on a chair, then turned around to put Wei Ying on the one next to it. And she washed the dirt off of her hands, set a basin of water and a spare medical kit on the table between the boys, and turned to do some cooking.

In between dry frying spices, blanching pork ribs, and chopping lotus roots, she listened to the boys talk. It started with a hiss as Jiang Cheng wrapped Wei Ying's swollen ankle. Then, "Does she hate me?"

"A-Jie? No. Why would she hate you?"

"She seems mad..."

Jiang Cheng snorted. "That's just Jie. She's always mad. Even when she's happy, she's a little bit angry."

"Oh." More silence, then, "Want me to clean your cut? I'm pretty good at it."

"Ok!" Jiang Yanli looked over just in time to watch Jiang Cheng happily push the cloth into Wei Ying's hands and prop his leg up on Wei Ying's chair so he would have easy access.

For another few minutes, the only sounds were the boiling of the soup, the quiet, indrawn breaths of Jiang Cheng, and the splash of water as Wei Ying rinsed his cloth. He reached for the bandages, but Jiang Cheng pushed the salve towards him. "This first, then bandages. It'll help it heal faster."

Wei Ying put a little of the salve on his fingers, staring at it wonderingly. Then he applied it just as gently as he had cleaned the wound.

Once the bandage was wrapped and secured, Jiang Cheng pulled his leg down, bending the knee to test it. "Wow, you're really good at that! Where did you learn?"

"Ah. Sometimes dogs would attack me if they thought I had food. I had to clean out my injuries very thoroughly or they got infected."

Jiang Yanli paused in ladling her soup. A-Die hadn't said anything about that when he'd taken Jiang Cheng's dogs away. She put the bowls on a tray and carried it to the table. "Eat."

"Yay! Thanks a-Jie!" Jiang Cheng grabbed a bowl and started slurping like the ill mannered cretin he was. Jiang Yanli hid a fond smile.

Wei Ying hesitated, not picking up his spoon until Jiang Yanli put the soup bowl in front of him as hard as she could without spilling any. "I said eat. What, is my soup not good enough for you?" And then she cursed herself, because Wei Ying was doing that making himself smaller thing again. Desperate, she stared at Jiang Cheng until he got the hint, hating herself for having to lean on him like this.

Jiang Cheng just grinned and wrapped an arm around Wei Ying's shoulders. "Jiejie's angry soup is the best. You just don't know that cause you haven't tried it yet." He nudged the bowl closer in an unsubtle hint. When Wei Ying still didn't eat, he pulled back, using his grip on Weo Ying's shoulder to turn him so they were facing each other. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I just..." Wei Ying's shoulders curled in even more. "I don't want to get used to it. Every time I thought I would get to stay somewhere, it hurt more when I got kicked out."

Jiang Yanli's grip on her spoon tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

Wei Ying shifted uncomfortably. "Well the lady who ran the book store let me sleep on the floor of the shop for a few days once, and she fed me lots of good food, but then someone broke in and kicked me in the dark, and I screamed, and... turned out there had been a bunch of robberies and she just wanted some extra security. She kicked me out once they'd caught the guy. And the guy at the inn let me stay in exchange for helping clean the place up, but then when the party of nobles had been expecting arrived, he kicked me out too. And others. So I don't know why I'm here, but I don't want to get used to it so it'll hurt less when I have to leave."

"No!" Surprisingly, it wasn't Jiang Cheng who shouted. He was still staring slack jawed at Wei Ying. It was Jiang Yanli who stood, indignation flooding through her. "You aren't getting kicked out!"

"That's right! Weren't you listening to a-Die? He said you were going to live here and be our new brother!" Wei Ying still seemed hesitant, so Jiang Cheng added, "That means you have to stay here forever and eat a-Jie's soup and learn cultivation with me, unless you can't in which case you need to learn how to be my second for when I inherit the sect. Those are the rules. The most important being the stay here forever bit."

"You mean it?" Wei Ying looked up at them, still wary, but hoping.

Jiang Yanli pushed the soup closer to him again. "We mean it. I don't cook for people I don't like. Now eat your soup."

And then, for the first time, Wei Ying smiled, and it lit up the room like sunrise breaking over the lake. "Ok!"

And Jiang Yanli felt a blow to the place in her chest where she hid her love for her brother, a blow like something, or someone, making a home there. And she thought, Oh no, and she thought, Oh we are definitely keeping him, and she thought I will protect him forever.

She looked over at her baby brother - one of her baby brothers, she thought with a thrill of... something - and saw the exact same sentiment on his face.

Jiang Yanli finished eating her soup and then she took her brothers' bowls to the sink for washing in the morning. And then, she took her brothers, new and old, to their room for bed.

[loxare]

I should be in bed but fuck it Untamed ficlet

All ages taken from the mdzs wiki except I added a few years because this is Untamed chronology

Nie Huaisang was staring at him over his fan.

Wei Wuxian glared back. It was their first meeting since Guanyin Temple. Wei Wuxian hadn't even wanted to come, but the invitation had been very official and sent to every town between here and Gusu. He had thought about declining and just continuing on his travels, but getting stopped before every inn with a, "Sir, are you Wei Wuxian? I have a letter for you," had successfully annoyed him into coming. Plus the fact that if he hadn't come, Nie Huaisang was exactly stubborn enough to send the invite to every inn in the kingdom.

Admittedly, it had been a rather nice visit so far. Nie Huaisang was nothing if not an excellent host, and the evening had been full of good food, good tea and good alcohol. Maybe a bit too much good alcohol, but what Lan Zhan didn't know wouldn't make him concerned for Wei Wuxian's health. "What?"

Nie Huaisang jumped a bit. "Nothing. It's just..." he paused, running his eyes up and down Wei Wuxian. Calculating. "How old are you?"

Wei Wuxian snorted. Was that it? He lifted his tea cup, intending to take a sip after he answered, and then paused. "I... hm. Mentally, physically or chronologically?"

"See, that's exactly what I'm saying!" Nie Huaisang snapped his fan closed and used it to point. "You were dead for 16 years, and that isn't your body!"

"Ok wait. I was born 40 years ago. So I'm 40."

"But you were only alive for 23 of those years the first time. And you've only been back a few months." Nie Huaisang tapped his fan on the table emphatically.

Wei Wuxian looked at the ceiling. "But I can't be 23. Or maybe 24. Did I turn 24? Doesn't matter, because I am fairly sure I'm older than that." He stretched his back, which had chosen a very convenient time to remind him he was sore.

"Can't relate," said Nie Huaisang, who had a deceptively strong core, despite his reluctance to ever use it. He'd cultivated enough to gain a long life and quick healing and had stopped there.

Wei Wuxian stuck out his tongue. "How old was Mo Xuanyu before?"

"30."

"So I'm 30 then?" Wei Wuxian thought about it. Tried it on. Then he shook his head. "No, that doesn't seem right."

"Hm." Nie Huaisang took a lychee from the place and peeled it lazily. "We could average them."

Doing some quick math in his head, Wei Wuxian grimaced. "31 isn't much better than 30, Nie-xiong. I'm gonna stick with 40."

"You aren't though."

"Yes I am." Wei Wuxian picked up his tea again. It was good tea and he wanted to drink it before it went cold.

"You just don't want Jiang-xiong to know that he's older than you now."

Wei Wuxian choked, spraying tea across the floor. "You can't tell him!" Sure, maybe it would even things out between them. Maybe having a petty victory over Wei Wuxian would make Jiang Cheng less grumpy. Maybe it would give them something lighter to bicker about.

But Wei Wuxian's pride as an older sibling was on the line, and he would never give that up.

A servant appeared out of nowhere to clean up the spill, waving away Wei Wuxian's apologies before vanishing back into thin air. He sat back and helped himself to a bean bun.

"You came back eight months ago. Maybe you're eight months old."

"Nie Huaisang I will haunt your palace with the ghost of every screaming monkey I can find, don't test me."