#and of course like i said to give a sense of the sects existence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ninjakk · 2 years

Note

Hello. Your blog really amazing and I love it very much.!!!

Soo there is something which is bugging me for a while. When WWX is in Jiang sect and is given very horrible punishment for even littlest things. Where are the elders of the sects?? Why are they not interfering?? Are they afraid of authority of YZY as a sect madam??? There are not mentioned in the novel, correct me if i am wrong. Do they even exist in Jiang Sect or is that position not there in teaching of breaking restraints and freedom.

And Wei Changze was second in command of Sect leader. Doesn't anybody have any kind of lingering affection for him. And correct YZY when she is spewing hate about him.

The classism of this makes me want to cry and pull my hair.

Hi Anon,

Thank you for the sweet comments. It's lovely to hear my blog posts are appreciated 🥰

This is a hard one, because there isn't really that much to go in the novel that can outrightly answer your question as such. We can summarise what we do know, and come up with a plausible explanation - but it would be purely postulation of course.

With that in mind, let's have a look at what we can gather from the novel 😊

Firstly, the Jiang sect is one of the Five Four Great Sects. They are one of the most prominent sects in the MDZS universe, competing alongside other major sects such as the Jin, Lan and Nie sects (and of course the Wen sect prior to its annihilation). Even though the sect claims to be "unrestrained", there is still a sense of hierarchy within it. So I think it's safe to assume the Jiang sect does have some form of senior/elder structure, as well as numerous adults present within the sect. As the narrative is somewhat influenced by WWXs POV, it's most likely they are just unimportant to the story and have not had much of an impression on him.

So we've established there most likely are senior cultivators within the sect. Now let's look at a snapshot of what we know about Madam Yu:

Madam Yu came from the prominent MeishanYu Sect. She was ranked third in her clan, so was also called Third Lady Yu. In the cultivation world, she went by the name “Violet Spider”. Just bringing up the name could scare quite a few away. Ever since she was young, she’d had a cold personality and never came off as likeable when conversing with others.

Chapter 51 ExR

We are first introduced to Madam Yu in the above chapter, where the reader is given a clear indication of her personality. She is well known in the cultivation world and it sounds like she is feared by many. From the text, we can gather she is quite formidable and has a fiery temper to match! As such, MXTX is intentionally giving the impression of a very unapproachable woman. We get further evidence of this whenever we see her shout interact with others throughout the novel. She is very argumentative and unreasonable. It seems even her own husband and children can't make her ratiocinate when she is abusing WWX - only hindering or postponing her abuse instead.

I think the general impression we get from the novel, is that Madam Yu has a rather imposing presence at Lotus Pier and no one would dare stand up to her. There may well be people within the sect who want to help WWX and stop or at least impede the abuse he suffers, but they might be too frightened of Madam Yu's wrath to do anything about it. That being said, as we don't have proof either way - perhaps others in the sect have stuck up for WWX before, and we aren't aware of it. Although sadly I very much doubt it, Madam Yu's reputation alone makes me hesitant to think otherwise.

Madam Yu is the mistress of Lotus Pier. She sees herself as someone with almost unparalleled authority - so we can safely assume she most certainly commands the respect it deserves amongst those at the Jiang sect.

Madam Yu, “What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I’m also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory?...."

Chapter 56

With that in mind, who would dare oppose their sect leader or the mistress of their sect - especially one with such a volatile personality. If anyone dared to stand up against her, she would most likely kick them out for disrespecting her and her position, or punish them severely. Unfortunately Madam Yu's status awards her the right to punish the subordinates however she sees fit - even if we know it is completely unjustified and excessively cruel.

As for WWX's father WCZ, as far as I am aware, his status within the Jiang sect was referred to as JFMs "most loyal servant", not second in command of the sect. We also know WCZ was a cultivator, because he became cultivation partners with WWX's mother CSSR and left to travel the world together.

Both Jiang FengMian and his wife, Yu ZiYuan, were quite familiar with Wei WuXian’s parents. Despite this, Jiang FengMian never reminisced about his old friend in front of Wei WuXian and, moreover, Yu ZiYuan never spoke properly to Wei WuXian at all. It was lucky for him if she didn’t give him a few whips and send him to kneel in the ancestral hall so that he’d keep his distance from Jiang Cheng. Other people told him most of the things he knew about his parents. He really didn’t know much more than what everyone else knew.

Chapter 29

So we can see JFM does not mention WWX's parents in front of him - whether this is because he feels he might upset WWX or if there is another reason behind his lack of reminiscing, is of course all up for interpretation. But WWX does mention that "others" have spoken to him about his parents, which I think hints that some of the disciples from the sect might have spoken about WCZ, although it seems not very often. Perhaps others are worried they will upset WWX by mentioning his parents also. Or maybe there could be lingering feelings and animosity around WCZ leaving the sect. Unfortunately we don't really know much more with regards to WCZ, as he was only mentioned very briefly on a few fleeting occasions, so we can only speculate. Either way, even if others remembered WCZ fondly, I think the fear of going up against Madam Yu would definitely eclipse such feelings.

You're right Anon, the classism in the novel is both frustrating and incredibly tragic. It has to be said though, that although Madam Yu is very classist, it seems the sect itself was already so way before she even arrived. Given the fact that the Jiang sect already had servants and WCZs status is constantly brought up - it's evidently the case. It's quite telling that a lot of people in the fandom overlook WCZ was also a cultivator, and only remember him as JFMs servant. Tragically, even in death WCZ never escaped his status as a servant, which is surprising considering he died a free man and a rogue cultivator with no affiliations to a sect. Yes, he seemingly left the sect without any consequences. But the prejudice against him was so strong, so ingrained in society and the sect he left, that it was passed on to his own son in the end nevertheless.

MXTX has a constant theme of classism running throughout the novel. Overall it plays a major part in WWXs fall from "grace" and the crumbling of his very fragile and superficial status, that was bestowed upon him so easily and taken away even more so. Fortunately for WWX, he is a lot happier without such restraints and can live his life how he wants to, now that he is not bound by obligations and an ostensible status. WWX is free to live happily ever after, with his loving husband LWJ 💕

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs novel #wei wuxian #wei changze #madam yu #mdzs classism #jiang sect #anon ask #answered ask

72 notes · View notes

shaykesqueer · 10 months

Text

O Rose, Thou Art Sick

Chapter One: Things Terrible and Unguessable

Chapter Links | Next Chapter | AO3

Summary: Fox arrives at the Ministry and braves their first night alone.

Word Count: 6.2k

Content Warnings: 18+. References to cults, explicit descriptions of nudity, descriptions of gore, horror, references to horror movies/tropes, thunderstorms

Notes: This is a Fox-centric chapter and Copia only makes a brief appearance. He’s not going to show up properly until a few chapters in. The namesake for this chapter is a quote from The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

The door swung open with a creak and Fox peered inside, eyes adjusting to the darkness which was broken only by the flickering of a distant candle that crept in through the windows. A warm glow took over the room, rising from a dim orange to an eerie red, everything draped in a comfortable hellfire.

“This is the room?” Fox asked incredulously.

Having toured but a small part of the Ministry this evening had proven its expensive tastes, but this was far from what they had expected. They had expected something humble- a quaint burrow no larger than absolutely necessary, with a makeshift open fire stove for a kitchen. They had hopes for a double bed too, if they were so lucky. This room was no less than ostentatious. To one side was what they might have described as a parlour, complete with an outset curve of tall and narrow windows decorated with stained glass that cast glowing shapes onto the carpet below. A pillowy chaise lounge fit into the arch of the window seat, with a gratuitous amount of accompanying armchairs, stools and sofas, each as cushioned and luxurious as the last. The other side of the room, while equally extravagant in style, was less comfortable in the traditional sense. The neat rows of bookshelves, floor to ceiling and stained unnaturally dark, were stuffed with countless leather-bound volumes, polished silver antiquities and rare-looking flora displayed in glass cases.

“Rooms, Child,” replied the Sister, still haunting the doorway.

“I was under the impression that it was just room. Singular. ” Fox crossed the threshold. “I was expecting an outhouse way off the property. I swear the job description said modest accommodation.”

“Are you displeased?” the Sister said.

Fox raised their eyebrows. The Sister’s face was stoic and almost neutral, but there was a hint of mocking in her voice.

“Of course I’m not displeased,” they said. How could they be in a place like this? “Why, is there a catch? Do I have to share this with someone?”

They certainly wouldn’t rule that out. Figures . The sheer size of this place- the room and the entire Ministry- was enough to give them serious doubts about their position here. Of course, they’d heard the rumours. Everyone had. A secluded church, secretive and holding a very devout sect. So far secretive seemed to ring true, but not so much the little. Devout? Yet to be seen. The Sister wasn’t even in what Fox assumed to be the full nun garb. Admittedly, they’d never been this close to a nun before. Actually, that wasn’t exactly true- but that girl had just been dressed like a nun. She certainly didn’t undress like a nun. In either case, this Sister’s finery was nonetheless expertly tailored despite how modern it looked. Was it called a habit? That didn’t seem right.

From what they’d gleaned, most people aware of it liked to pretend this place didn’t even exist. They wanted to believe that any and every mention of it on some poor soul’s lips had been scrubbed from existence. Some were drawn to it. Most were terrified. It was very much apparent to anyone with half a brain that this organisation was unconventional, to put it politely, but now more than ever it screamed evil. Cultish was a nice word for it. Fox had dedicated most of their life to thinking about the fact that this really should have bothered them. Surprisingly, or unsurprising given the circumstances, it didn’t. Fox was no stranger to these kinds of avocations, having been accessory to several unusual circles through the years, and they’d experienced more than their fair share of witchery and the occult. This was just another job for them.

In spite of it all, the position here would have been just as attractive had it been for a conventional church. It would have been just as attractive if it were on the moon. It was certainly the first group that had contacted them via email, which was a pleasant surprise. Usually they’d fall into a crowd that they’d heard relatively good things about. And they used ‘good’ loosely. The defining factor was often if they were willing to put up with Fox. Or it could be a friend of a friend of a friend situation. There was always something to be said about bullhorn recruitment too. Fox didn’t have a permanent address and hadn’t for the past ten or eleven years- a fact which made Fox wholly uncomfortable to think about even now- but they weren’t clueless to the world around them and an email address was a wonderful thing to have. The job title was officially listed as ‘groundskeeper’. Fox didn’t care for a title though- whether it be caretaker, groundskeeper, gardener. Holder of the keys to the shed at the bottom of the garden with nothing but spades and spiders inside. It was Fox’s proverbial calling. The job description seemed like it was mostly gardening, which was Fox’s true love and what they truly thought they’d been put on this Earth to do. The fact that they’d been offered a practically indulgent amount of money didn’t hurt either.

“No. This is a single dwelling for yourself only,” the Sister answered. Fox paused for a moment.

“You’re not going to offer me up as some sort of human sacrifice, are you?” they said. Their voice was coy, clearly making jest, but the unchanging features on the Sister’s face made them think she didn’t understand. “Because I have no objection to being sacrificed, I just want to make sure it’s for a worthy cause. A little warning would be nice too, you know.”

A smile twitched in the corners of the Sister’s lips and she pinched her mouth tight. It looked like she wanted to laugh but was trying to hold on to some decorum. “Being a sacrifice is not a part of your duties. I have no authority in dictating how you spend your free time, however.”

Fox returned the smile, forcibly wider than the Sister’s, and before they could think to reply she glided into the room to meet them. The Sister had a stiff beauty about her that was hard to place or understand. She moved as though she was floating and Fox imagined whirls of mist spiralling her feet, as if she was just a ghostly vision in the darkness of the moors. Or maybe she was just wearing roller skates under her skirts.

“You’ll find your bed chamber through there.” The Sister gestured across the room to a door nestled between a set of bookshelves. “Your luggage has been fetched by the Siblings already, you should find your cases in the wardrobe. In the desk you’ll find all the official documents you require. Please browse them at your leisure.”

Fox swallowed. Something had to be said about the efficiency around here. They started to feel that doubt again, churning sick like a wave. I don’t belong here. The feeling was familiar, they’d felt it in every circle they’d ever found themself in. And as usual, they squashed it down quickly before it showed on their face.

“Tomorrow morning you are to report to the fourth floor office to receive your keys. Your employment begins effective immediately, but do take your time acquainting yourself,” the Sister said, maintaining eye contact with Fox. While her voice was buttery, she was still very stern. Robust. Fox trusted her. At least, they thought they did. Or wanted to.

“Yes, ma’am,” Fox gave her a short nod and she smiled in return. She seemed pleased.

“I advise that you get well rested,” she said. “It may take you a few days to search the grounds and become familiar with our clergy.”

Fox began to wonder just how many keys they would receive. The glimpse they caught of the Ministry on the walk from the car to their rooms offered promise of several enticing doors. It was raining when they had arrived and they’d driven through the sunset, through the twilight, and it had been deep into the night when they got out of that car. There was no one at the Ministry doors for them and Fox couldn’t think of much else but their hair sticking to their face, blinking through the onslaught of raindrops, and the smell of the wet stone. The building was intimidating to say the least. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so if they’d arrived in the morning, but the size of it alone was enough to strike awe into them. There was little in the way of light apart from the cutouts of the windows standing against the rising black of the walls and the towers, shadows occasionally passing by. Something had caught Fox’s eye, however. A singular dark figure standing ever present and still in a window, a couple of stories high and far away enough that Fox had to focus hard on him. The figure was lit by what Fox assumed was a nearby lamp and they could see he had deep set eyes, like black holes threatening to swallow them up. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. Fox felt something not unlike dread fizzling from their core to their fingertips. But it wasn’t just that, not just pure terror or trepidation, it was…

As dark as they were- in impression, not colour- his eyes seemed soft. The lines of his face, the drag of his lips. Longing and lonely. Fox tore their eyes away when a voice had beckoned them from the doorway- the Sister chiding them for standing in the rain for so long. When they’d looked back to the window, the man was gone.

Once they were inside, they had realised they wouldn’t be able to escape that feeling of awe as the interior of the building was just as magnificent. They stood in a vast antechamber with ceilings vaulted so high they could have been never ending. It was gothic in the religious sense with white stone walkways and pillars, soft painted walls, and stained glass. Fox felt like they’d walked into a fresco, like the floor was nothing but paint strokes and might disappear beneath them. Despite the time of night, there were still people moving about the room. None of them staying, of course, just using the room as a transient space. Fox was unfamiliar with the hierarchy of a church, even a Satanic one like this, but it was fairly easy to tell where people stood in the pecking order just by looking at them. While everyone was dressed darkly, and often in some form of robe, the younger clergy members- the Siblings, perhaps- were dressed considerably down. Most of them were fresh faced, nondescript, and donning a slipper-like footwear situation. It seemed the more seasoned members wore not necessarily stylish attire, but certainly flashier. They also shared a look of purpose, not all confident or even happy, but a certain surety. Fox was conflicted. On one hand, it felt cruel being the outsider when everyone else called this place home, when everyone else held that knowing. On the other, it was perhaps the feeling Fox knew best and was therefore quite dear to them in a way.

“Thank you, uh, Sister,” Fox said. The question of ‘what do you expect of me?’ was lingering in their throat. “Do I-” the Sister cut Fox off, raising a delicate hand.

“Answers to questions will be provided tomorrow. Fourth floor office.”

She spoke slowly and her words were punctuated with patience. Fox nodded silently and the Sister withdrew her hand.

“Retire to bed. We shall be seeing you tomorrow.” She kept her eye contact with Fox still, lingering ever so slightly long enough to create a gentle air of malice, before she turned away and left. She disappeared so elegantly, like a shadow, and it was as if she had never been there at all.

Fox was soon standing alone in the room- my room , they thought- and they felt unsure. The room was already peculiar enough, feeling especially cavernous and dark now that they were by themself with the door firmly shut. Surprisingly, the first thing Fox thought about wasn’t just how dark the room was, but what would they have for breakfast? They hadn’t packed anything in their luggage, obviously, and there didn’t appear to be any sort of kitchen equipment in here even if they had packed something. There must have been a kitchen somewhere. Probably the big medieval kind that was deep within a dungeon with bubbling cauldrons and raw meat hanging from the rafters. But even if that was the case, could they just waltz in? Fox was staff, after all. Was there a separate dining hall for the non-staff? A cafeteria? A big Satanic cafeteria where they could get those tiny boxes of assorted cereal. Fox supposed that would be their first question for tomorrow.

The second thing Fox thought was that these candles were doing quite a shit job at lighting the room and they would very much like to find a working light switch. A quick grope of the walls turned up nothing and they began to wonder if there was some sort of trick to it, like a loose stone in the floor or a book to pull like in some Scooby-Doo villain’s mansion. When they found themself in front of a desk, however, their hands felt around on its cool yet cluttered surface and they eventually found what felt like a lamp. No switch. Shit. They knew that Sister was pulling the whole mysterious thing, and very deftly at that, but Fox thought it wouldn’t have hurt for her to mention if there were any matches in here, would it? Fumbling across the desk once more brought Fox to a set of drawers on the opposite side of it. Large stack of papers in the top drawer- those would be all the documents. A lot of documents. Browse at your leisure my ass, they thought. Second drawer, empty. Of course . And third drawer? Bingo. Striking the match brought the desk into proper view and Fox realised it wasn’t cluttered at all, they’d just mistakenly knocked over various knick-knacks and stationary in their fumbling. Within a few moments, the candle was lit and the many strewn ink pens were arranged neatly once again.

They were enticed by that top drawer again. The papers appeared to be stacked inside a large manilla envelope that was sealed with a blob of red wax. Running their thumb under the seal broke it easily and the papers slid out onto the desk. The first document to catch Fox’s eye was a singular dark sheet with embossed patterns framing the page. It read in silver ink, cursive letters glittering and hard to read by the candlelight.

Our Newest Recruit,

We are charmed to accept you into our home- we dearly hope these dwellings have your appreciation.

Whilst we encourage spending this evening in respite, it is sternly advised to study the enclosed documents.

Contained wIthin is a brief directory of departments, public suites (includes chambers and auditoriums), and notable exterior grounds.

We would despair ever so should you find yourself lost on this substantial estate.

Furthermore, do familiarise yourself with the Terms of your Employment. We trust it shall provide a stimulating study.

~Ante eum genu flecte et bene intra muros istos~

Fox couldn’t quite decide whether this was written to be purposefully ominous, or whether it was genuine and whoever had written it just had an unfortunately creepy tone. Fitting, either way. True to the letter’s words, the next few papers has a list of several rooms, respective room numbers and… that was all. They flipped the paper over- blank- checked the other pages- blank- flipped them over. Blank. Well that was just useless, wasn’t it. What good was a list of rooms and numbers if they didn’t give any sort of location? There weren’t even any proper descriptions, just some titles.

Cathedral: 042.

Mass Auditorium: 118.

Library: 203.

One of them just said Office. Actually, several of them say Office. Fox pushed those top papers to the side and pursed their lips at the acclaimed ‘Terms of Employment’. This section was significantly thicker than the last stack and they were immediately put off by it, loosely flipping through the first few pages. They were more than aware that they should study this very closely- not because of what that Sister said, and not because of what that letter said- but they were well versed enough to know they probably didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the Ministry’s bad side. Not on their first day, anyway. What Fox was somewhat prepared to do was sit down at this desk and get through every last page of this contract so they wouldn’t be caught out looking like some kind of an idiot at this meeting tomorrow. They would have to pour themself a drink to get through it, of course. If gardening was their true love, drinking was certainly their mistress. It was a cherished hobby.

However, there were three small problems with this marvellous plan. One- there wasn’t anything to pour a drink into. Two- there wasn’t anything to drink. And three- the whole document was written in what looked like Italian. Which may not have been too much of a problem, except Fox couldn’t read Italian. They rolled their eyes and put the paper back down on the desk.

They’re fucking with me. That had to be it. Fox scrubbed a hand down their face, bracing their hands on the desk. The way Fox saw it, they didn't really have a lot of options.

They couldn’t just scoop up all their things and scarper away. Even if they did make it outside, they could hardly call themself a cab and they definitely couldn’t make the walk back. Back to… where, exactly? The thought didn’t bear entertaining. They’d come here to do a job and Fox was going to do it. If this Church, the Clergy, was buttering them up for something, the least they could do was enjoy the spoils.

With a sigh, Fox gathered up the documents and slid them back into the envelope, leaving it out on the desk so they wouldn’t forget to bring them along tomorrow. Studying documents was off the table, and so to bed it was. They picked up the lamp- candle- and carried it with them into the next room. What did that Sister call it? Bed chamber. Regardless, they were certain there wouldn’t be any lights in there either and they weren’t about to go fondling the entire room again. Not before buying it a drink. They had to have some principles, after all.

This room was a lot smaller than the last, but it was difficult to judge as the bed itself sat in the centre and completely dwarfed everything else. It was bigger than a double- bigger than a king even- with four wooden posters that rose to the ceiling and held up a dark cloth canopy. There was little else in the room besides a small window on the left wall that was mostly concealed by a pair of willowy drapes, a door nearby leading into a small private bathroom and some very gaudy wallpaper. After a quick inspection of what Fox could see outside the window, which was fuck all in the dark, they set the candle down on the closest nightstand. As promised, their two meagre cases were sitting in the bottom of the wardrobe. They looked untouched and Fox reached for one with the intention of dragging it out and unpacking, but they paused. They weren’t entirely sure if they’d even be here tomorrow night. If this was just some big ruse to sacrifice them to a Dark God… why should they waste their time exerting energy hanging up clothes and deciding what side of the sink their toothbrush would go on. That bed did look comfortable. Maybe there was a plan to make them some sorry-for-sacrificing-you-in-such-a-horrific-way orgy or something. Or a breakfast. And surely they couldn’t have planned to do it the day after Fox’s arrival, there would still be time to check the place out. Get into that library, have a walk around the gardens. It didn’t sound that bad.

Fox headed back over to the bed and placed a hand on one of the posts. Laid out over the mattress was a very silky looking bedspread, matching pillows and a particularly downy comforter. Were these posts carved? Felt like varnished wood. Expensive. So intricately carved it must have been expensive. Sometimes Fox wished they could produce something so artistic, and in such a gorgeous material to boot. Purpleheart, they thought. It was streaked with red and black, shimmering grain, with a nice even lacquer. This was immaculate work, clearly made by someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who respected… Fox’s train of thought was lost quickly as they finally started paying attention to the carvings, their fingers tracing the gentle curves of the wood. That looks like … Fox pulled their hand away.

That was a cock. Every inch and vein carved right into the post with astonishing accuracy. How had they not seen that before? They scanned the rest of the post and sure enough, it was positively covered with the things. And not only that! While they seemed to be the main feature (considering their size), they were accompanied by countless vignettes of naked, sweating couples in some of the most sordid positions Fox had ever seen. Oh- not just couples. Their cheeks began to grow rather warm. They were no stranger, of course. Running with such unconventional circles often came with certain physical expectations. Not that Fox had ever complained. In fact, it was one of the better perks. They couldn’t quite understand what the play here was though. From the outside, the Ministry appeared very official. Academic, even. Was it really so filthy underneath? Or was the Ministry trying to intimidate them? Or perhaps this was just a family heirloom. Some unholy icon. These were probably in every room. Fox found themself laughing, hand rushing up to their mouth to silence their giggles. They really couldn’t deny it was expertly crafted.

They turned their attention back to the bed, the actual bed, and they gingerly threw back the duvet. Of course, the material felt just as silky as it looked. It looked clean. Fox pulled it up close to their face. Definitely clean. And freshly washed to boot! They tested a pillow too and there was a faint hum of lavender. They glanced back towards the window, taking just a few seconds to assure themself that the curtains were pulled shut all the way. Satisfied, or the closest approximation to it, they kicked their shoes off and slid them under the bed. They didn’t want to admit that a large part of them wanted to take a peek after they did. They wanted to think they were smart enough to be able to tell if some knife-wielding maniac zealot was stuffed under there. And stuffed indeed- there wasn’t exactly a lot of wiggle room. If a horrible, knife-wielding maniac zealot was committed enough to actually fit, Fox thought the least they could do was accept a little stabbing.

After a minute contemplating the fate, their coat was hung up on a hook off the back of the bathroom door and their clothes found a similarly neat placement as a nondescript pile on the floor. They tucked themself into bed and pulled the duvet up to their chin, eyes facing up to the canopy above them. This room seemed a lot bigger now that they were laying down, decidedly more vulnerable than before. The glow from the candle flickered against the canopy, the dark cloth twisting into ugly faces, the posts of the bed casting menacing shadows onto the wallpaper. Shit, the candle. Without thinking, Fox sat up and blew it out. They saw the thin tendrils of smoke spiralling from the candle wick, the smell reminding them of birthday parties and shitty sheet cake, and they were left in the dark once again. There was a trail of blue moonlight glowing through the curtains, specks of shiny dust suspended in the air. It was eerie and mesmerising. Fox kept their eyes on the beam as they laid back down, as their head pressed back into the pillow. It was more than just comfortable. They were ashamed to admit they had slept in some undeniable shit-holes more than once, but this was possibly the most comfortable bed they’d ever laid in.

***

A sudden crack of thunder ripped through the room and jolted Fox from their sleep. When had they fallen asleep? They ran a hand up through their hair, their heart beating forcefully inside their ribcage. What time was it? It couldn’t be morning yet, it was still dark outside. As the thought came, a searing flash lit up the room. Fox jerked upright, their eyes wide and searching every inch of the room before a second round of deafening thunder rolled outside. With their heart still pounding, their chest heaving with shallow breaths, they pinched their eyes shut.

Jesus, it’s just thunder.

They took a moment to let the air out of their lungs, forcing out a dry breath through clenched teeth. Now their head was clear of the sleepy fog, Fox could hear the pattering of rain, the rattle of hailstones against the window. Their heartbeat slowed and their breath became even. They opened their eyes again to a dark, still room. The storm must have only just picked up- those hailstones were so heavy that Fox was certain they alone would’ve woken them up far sooner. They were hitting the window pretty quickly, there was probably no use trying to settle back down to sleep while it was still raging outside. Then again, it wasn’t particularly loud. More like a gentle tapping really. Fox straightened up, a chill running down their spine. Tapping. No, it couldn’t be…

Another flash of lightning forced Fox from the bed, duvet flung carelessly to one side, and they braced themself back against the wall. They reached a hand out in an instant, fumbling around to reach their coat before that thunder strike could make its grand re-appearance. They snatched the coat off its hook and less than a few seconds later, it was wrapped around their body, pulled tight across the breast under their overlapped arms. It wasn’t tapping. Of course it wasn’t tapping. Why would it be tapping? Another sweeping rumble made Fox jump and they swore under their breath. There was nothing out there and they were definitely not going out into the other room to check for anything. Fox was going out into the other room because they couldn’t sleep. They were going out into the other room because they thought they had noticed a book on common marsh horticulture that they just couldn’t wait until morning to read. Tapping. Tapping, tapping, hailstones.

Fox took in a deep, bracing breath and pushed themself off the wall. They began to move quickly, taking a couple of steps in a matter of seconds before stopping. Not rushing. Fox was not rushing because if they were rushing then they would be scared and they weren’t scared and so they weren’t rushing. They also weren’t taking a peek out of the window to check if there was tapping. They were checking because they wanted to see the rain. Reaching the window, Fox stood close to the curtains. And Fox stood still for longer than they intended to. Oh, this is ridiculous, they thought, and they grasped either side of the fabric in their hands and ripped them apart. Fox didn’t know what they were expecting, but of course it was just this.

Dark window. Raindrops. No tapping.

They huffed shortly. This rain was just not letting up, was it ? Oh, and it was such a big day tomorrow! Fox didn’t have much choice but to go and grab that book! They crossed their arms and ran a hand over the wall, tracing it around the corner and to the door. There was no hesitation when they opened it and took a step through.

The large windows at the other end of the room didn’t let in any more light than what Fox had expected, mostly just reflecting enough to cast shadows of the rain droplets onto the floor, wriggling like little flies all over the room. No. No, it was like gentle tears on the lake or some other poetic prattle.

It was relaxing.

The room was somehow smaller than they could recall, perhaps the dark shadows made everything seem condensed, squashed together.

It was cosy.

Fox tugged their coat tighter around themself and took their eyes off the window. The first thing they wanted was to look around for those matches again because how could they expect to read in here unless by candlelight? They started the trek over to the desk- they can make out its faint, black shape against the faint, black backdrop of the room. Before they could even reach it, barely having taken a few steps, there was another sharp flash that brought everything into blinding focus. Fox snapped their head around to look at the window and it felt as if all the blood had rushed from their body, settling cold and thick in the pit of their stomach.

“Jesus Christ!” They gasped as they lurched backwards, stumbling into a bookcase with a thump.

That was a face.

That was a thing, right there in the corner of the window! They were sure of it. Fox was paralysed for a moment, their hand braced back and gripping the side of some bookend. Having been blinded by the flash, they couldn’t seem to make out anything in the room- not even shadows. They couldn’t even hear the rain past their own heartbeat thumping in their ears. They thought about moving for only a fraction of a second and their hands tightened in white-knuckled fear.

That was definitely a face. The room was so black, Fox couldn’t tell if it was still there. It could still be there. Fox’s eyes were wide, eyebrows raised and staring straight at where the window should be, not daring to move away. They only saw it for a few seconds- less than a few- but they could tell it had big, round eyes and big, tombstone teeth. Both were hot white, gleaming like some terrible spot light. And the rest of it was black, all black, like a living shadow. They couldn’t see a body, just the head right in the bottom corner. Fox was not going to think of all the possible Cronenberg-ian configurations that body could have had for its head to be down there. They weren’t thinking about the fact that maybe it was just a head. A disembodied face squelching along in midair, dripping viscera and gore along the floor. For all this not thinking, Fox was starting to feel a little queasy.

Thunder struck and Fox was pulled back into the room, their brain shut up like a slap in the head. At some point, they knew they were going to have to admit to the possibility that maybe it had been a trick of the light. Maybe they had just seen some distorted shadow and now they had a back full of pointy book spines and had worked themself up into a ridiculous panic. Fox very desperately wanted that to be the case and they certainly couldn’t stand here all night. They thought about moving at least three times before their legs took the hint and finally went further across the room. They had to check this time. Not for the rain, not for curiosity's sake. They were not about to get spooked into not sleeping by some fucking shadow.

Fox kept one hand on the desk as they moved around it. The room was still as dark as before but their eyes had readjusted to it and they could make out the shape of the window, the chairs, they could see the patterns in the carpet. They could hear the rain pattering. What happened to those hailstones? Their fingers were teetering on the very edge of the desk, their arm stretched out behind. Fox didn’t want to walk into the middle of the room without something to ground them. If they did that, all the surrounding walls could just melt away, leaving them standing alone in desolate nothingness. There would be nothing to protect them, nowhere else to run. And any number of monsters could slither up behind them and breathe on the back of their neck, could sweep their legs from right under them and steal them into the night to never be seen again. Fox knew that wasn’t true, but that’s sure what it felt like. Come to think of it, Fox didn’t quite know what was possible in this place. It took several more moments before they could even work up the courage to let their hand leave the desk, folding it into a loose fist while they took careful, tiptoed steps. Each one felt like moving an entire world away and not moving at all at the same time. They just had to stay focused. Stay focused on that window and the nothing that was outside of it.

Thump.

“Shit.”

Fox looked downwards instinctively and grimaced. Whose idiot idea was it to put a footstool that low to the ground? They crouched down with a groan and grabbed a hold of the stool, pulling it back into place and straightening it out. Now Fox was going to have a big, ugly bruise on their shin and it was a good thing they hadn’t caught the corner of this thing because man was it sharp. They couldn’t imagine tripping over and catching their head or their eye on it. Was there an infirmary around here? It didn’t matter, even this place had to have some safety standards and this was a glaring hazard. Fox winced again, wrinkling their nose as the sharp light illuminated the stool beneath their hands. They had thought the wallpaper in the bedroom was gaudy, but getting a proper look at the fabric on this thing made them realise it was tasteful in comparison. Not all the furniture could be like this, surely. They’d gotten an eyeful of that chaise lounge and it was-

“Fuck! ”

Fox fell backwards to the floor and scrambled away as fast as they could whilst grabbing fistfuls of carpet. They really couldn’t have imagined that one. They couldn’t have! It was there again, that horrible face, only a foot or two away from them now. Same place, same eyes, same gnashing teeth. Along with it was a hand pressed flat against the window, dripping wet from the rain with pale, white fingertips from where it was pushing against the pane. Fox didn’t have any time to think their horrid thoughts, speculate if that was its hand or some poor guy’s that it had ripped off, or if it was going to try to break the glass with that hand, as their only focus was to get the fuck away. Their elbow hit a chair leg, their foot caught a nearby side table, their back scratched the corner of the bookcase. And Fox didn’t care, didn’t even feel the sting and the bruise.

As soon as they scurried into the bedroom, and as soon as they were far enough into it, they kicked the door shut with such force that the wall hangings trembled. Fox didn’t stop to worry that something may fall off and they definitely didn’t stop to check if any of them actually did. They just clambered clumsily to their feet, stumbling more than once and having to catch a hold of themself on the bedpost that last time or they would’ve fallen down on their face. They grabbed the lamp- candle!- when they dashed to the bedside, having scaled the bed and run across the mattress so they wouldn’t get anywhere near that damn window. They didn’t care how much noise it made when their feet met the ground again and they tried not to care when they all but slammed into the doorframe to the bathroom.

There were no windows in the bathroom. No windows and only one door. Fox slapped the flimsy shower curtain to one side and it got tangled up in their hand before they tumbled over into the bathtub, wincing when they brought their knees up to their chest. No windows. One door. Nobody was getting in here. Fox held the candlestick out in front of them, pointing it outright. They’d never hit anyone over the head with a blunt object before but they weren’t above giving it a proper go. The candlestick was trembling in front of them, their hands shaking and their heart beating so short and quick they thought it was about to leap out through their mouth. No windows and one door.

No windows.

One damn door.

I’d love to see that fucking monster try and get in here now.

Chapter Links | Next Chapter | AO3

💖 Reblogs and Likes appreciated!

💖 Thank you so much for reading!

#ghost band #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost bc #fanfiction #fanfic #ortas #shaykesqueer wildflowers #shaykesqueerfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #copia #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #papa iv x oc #copia x oc #nameless ghouls

5 notes · View notes

lingshanhermit · 1 year

Text

Ling Shan Hermit: How The Self Hinders Your Progress

We all possess a powerful self, a self so strong that it can make all our selfish behaviors seem reasonable (at least, convincing us to believe our motivations are impeccable), and can even interpret it to be in perfect accordance with Buddhist teachings - if your self is smart enough and you are proficient in Buddhist theory.

The self gives rise to numerous problems, including war, and there's no issue that is irrelevant to the self. All our problems originate from our clinging to a non-existent self. If we truly understand that the self is only our illusion, then our problems will disappear or diminish significantly.

I don't want to say too much today. I just want to talk about how the self hinders our practice. How it prevents us from becoming better.

You may have heard of the Rime (non-sectarian) movement. It was a movement initiated in the 19th century by Tibetan Buddhist masters such as Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo. It promotes the equal treatment of all teachings. In that era, it was said that many people were unwilling to learn others' teachings. As a result, many precious teachings faced the risk of extinction.

Here, I speculate about those who were unwilling to learn from others' teachings. I believe that for most, it was due to a strong sense of self. For someone of high status, seeking teachings from others may seem like a loss of face. He must have had such concerns: If I seek teachings from someone, what will my disciples think? He may also feel, due to his self, that he does not need any other teachings. Thus, we have the situation where everyone was reluctant to learn from others' teachings. Worse still, some would deny each other, rejecting that the other's teachings originated from Buddha, or believed that their own teachings were superior to all others.

Because of the self, we tend to categorize teachings, believing that these teachings belong to our sect and are therefore good. While other teachings that do not belong to our sect, we can disregard. Those who think this way seem to forget that all teachings originate from Buddha and were not originally owned by any sect. The emergence of teachings predates the formation of sects.

When we mention Dzogchen, you might think it belongs to the Nyingma school; when we talk about Kalachakra, you might believe it's a Jonang tradition; mentioning Lamdre, many people might assume it's a Sakya thing. When Zen is mentioned, you might regard it as a teaching of the Han region. If you think this way, you've made a serious mistake. Dzogchen is not exclusive to the Nyingma school, and Kalachakra is not merely a Jonang tradition - they are both part of Buddhism. When Buddha Shakyamuni taught the Kalachakra Tantra, there was no sect called Jonang in existence.

The self can hinder many things. You might miss out on obtaining a precious lineage because of the self, simply because you can't let go of the so-called face of the self. You think you're superb, capable of teaching anyone without needing any instruction. You believe that no one can teach you anything - this is the result of severe self-inflation.

When you think this way, you will miss many opportunities. You might bury questions you want to ask because of the self, as you are unwilling to be seen as someone in need of guidance. Your ego cannot admit that you are such a person. Of course, what I am saying is not necessarily for the average Buddhist practitioner. For the average practitioner, their ego has not inflated to the point where they believe they no longer need any guidance, though their ego is also powerful. I'm primarily addressing those with a very strong ego and high status. I know some people are very high in status and have many disciples. But because of this, they cannot seek teachings like an average person. They have too many concerns and fears.

In fact, there's no need for us to fear. The leader of Tibetan Buddhism frequently seeks teachings from masters of other sects, assuming a humble position when doing so. I once saw a video where this leader and Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche were exchanging initiations. Throughout the entire process, I didn't notice any embarrassment or discomfort on the leader's part - he is the highest authority in Tibetan Buddhism. You know, this master has many teachers. Yet, no one has ever disrespected him because he has sought teachings from others.

In the history of Buddhism, many people have given up a lot for the sake of the teachings, and yet we give up so easily over matters of face. I think we should feel ashamed. This shows that you value the self much more than seeking the teachings.

But I also know very well that this is the most difficult obstacle to overcome. There is nothing more difficult than overcoming the self. You can easily overcome obstacles set up by others, but you will fall into the trap of the self.

I know that when some people come to see me, they come with many questions, but in the end, they almost never ask. I guess it's because I look younger than their sons. This makes them feel uncomfortable seeking Buddhist teachings from someone who looks younger than their own child. If I were older, it might be better. I hope such situations will not continue to happen. After all, giving up the questions you need to ask just because I look young is a very unwise move. These are just some of the many problems caused by the self. If you don't have such problems, congratulations to you. If you do have similar issues, you must overcome them. Otherwise, your ego will hold you back.

Written by Ling Shan Hermit on December 2, 2009.

Copyright Notice：All copyrights of Ling Shan Hermit's articles in Simplified and Traditional Chinese, English, and other languages belong to the natural person who owns "Ling Shan Hermit". Please respect copyright. Publishers, media, or individuals (including but not limited to internet media, websites, personal spaces, Weibo, WeChat public accounts, print media) must obtain authorization from Ling Shan Hermit before use. No modifications to the articles are allowed (including: author's name, title, main text content, and punctuation marks). We reserve all legal rights.

灵山居士：自我是这样阻碍你的进步

5 notes · View notes

aurora077 · 2 years

Text

The Value of Recognition- Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - The Gift

Shao Jianguo was a good man in life. He’d led a simple existence, helping where he could as a rogue cultivator, until he met his wife and they had their family and settled down. He wanted to help too by joining the Sunshot Campaign but his need for his family to be safe won over his commanders orders to stay with his regiment and as he snuck out to find the Jiang contingency he was caught and killed.

He wanted to see his wife but especially his child one last time and tell them that he was sorry. But he couldn’t find them. And it was too late anyway to provide them with a good life. What he could do was save those other children whose parents left them alone to play without considering the danger they were in– they were at war for crying out loud!-- so he took it upon himself to rescue them. But he was a spirit and one with a lot of regrets, which led to him becoming unwittingly resentful, and though he never harmed the children, he was still a malignant spirit who would not hesitate to harm those who tried to rescue them, who he considered as a danger. This led to him being chased by several cultivators.

And when he was about to be captured by those cultivators, he noticed something strange. There was a profound sense of sadness amongst some of them. While he would normally have been inclined to help, his spirit was bogged down with resentment by that time (which was why he was able to sense the negative feelings within them in the first place). So his idea of helping was to give them a ‘gift’.

But they’d been spread out by that point and he could only choose one at random to receive this gift. The one in blue was in his line of sight as the one in yellow was the one behind him, trapping him in the pouch, so he aimed his wishes specifically at him. He didn’t expect the one in purple to intervene, though he wasn’t unhappy with the outcome. That one was the saddest of all. He could use Shao Jianguo’s gift the most.

“What ‘gift’?” the qin-playing cultivator kept asking, “Mister Shao, please tell me, what was your gift? What was it supposed to do? Is it permanent?”

“Well of course it should be permanent! I meant to reunite you with your family after all,” chuckled the spirit.

Lan Sizhui lost his composure for a moment, letting out a slightly distressed whimper.

“A-Yuan what is it?” said Wei Wuxian, grasping his shoulder tightly. Everyone’s faces had paled at what they assumed was terrible news.

But Lan Sizhui just shook his head and pulled himself together.

“What do you mean reunite me with my family? How would turning me into a child help with that?”

Sect Leader Jiang turning into a toddler did not really seem like it aligned with that goal.

“I was simply going to return you to your family, in the afterlife. Isn’t that why you were sad? All of you had such strong sorrow. I understand it. I too miss my family dearly. I wish I could reunite with them. My greatest gift to you would be to help you return to them. The purple cultivator seemed even more hurt than I could ever imagine. It is a blessing for him to return to his family. Truly I did mean to help you but I am not sorry it was him instead.”

“So in other words, you meant to kill me?” Lan Sizhui asked.

“Well when you put it like that it sounds bad now doesn’t it? I meant to help!”

“If you meant to kill then why has Sect Leader Jiang turned into a child?”

“Who?” “Sect Leader Jiang. The purple cultivator you hit instead of me. The one whose regiment you meant to join before you were killed.”

The spirit was shocked, but his tone turned understanding.

“It was Sect Leader Jiang that I hit? No wonder his emotions were that strong. I am sorry that Lotus Pier has lost their leader again, but isn’t it a kindness? Of all people he should get to be with his family again. They’re all gone you know? The Wens killed them all,” he said sadly. He was a spirit stuck in the past. He was buried, but now that his soul had been released his last memories were his reality, despite the war being long over. The feelings aroused by the massacre of the Jiang Sect were fresh in his mind. The horror and disbelief of hearing that a great sect had been eliminated in one day. Seeing the Wens patrolling, terrorising the citizens of Yunmeng. They were dark days. He felt a little sorry to be ending the Jiang line, but he also felt that it was a kindness for that poor boy who had lost everything except a sister and a shixiong.

“Mr. Shao, you seem to be under the impression that Sect Leader Jiang is dead, but he is not. As I mentioned before, he has merely been turned into a child. Tell me how to reverse it, please.” Lan Sizhui was terribly shaken by what the spirit had been saying but the important thing was to figure out how to help Sect Leader Jiang. He would deal with his feelings later.

But Shao Jianguo had no idea what to do. His ‘gift’ was meant to put the afflicted one into a deep sleep where they would relive their happiest memories with their family and the yearning they would feel to go back would help their soul to pass on to the next world easily while they slept so that they could reunite with them once again.

He really did mean it as a kindness. But he was also a resentful spirit and his idea of kindness was a bit warped. His gift was actually a curse meant to kill. Softly… gently… but kill nonetheless.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A-Cheng was excited to show his new geges his home. Jiejie had shown him a beautiful patch of lotuses just yesterday and they had played with the fishies that came around a particularly huge one. A-Cheng even got to feed the fish while sitting on it!

But why couldn’t he find them?

He saw other lotuses and eagerly pointed them out, but the pretty patch with the very big one that could hold A-Cheng’s weight was nowhere to be found.

“What’s wrong?” Zizhen asked him, noticing his expression that kept intermittently changing to a frown in between his happy chatter.

“A-Cheng can’t find the big lotus,” he said unhappily, “It was here yesterday!”

“Maybe it moved,” suggested Lan Jingyi, at a loss as to how to explain why the lotus wasn’t there.

“Silly gege, lotuses don’t move!” frowned A-Cheng.

Jin Ling shot him a disbelieving look. Really Jingyi? Did you think the lotus got up and walked away?! Isn’t it obvious the reason why the lotus isn’t there?!

Jingyi’s eyes widened. Ah he was such an idiot!

He laughed sheepishly when A-Cheng looked at him oddly, “Ah yes this gege was just being silly.”

“Maybe the kitchen aunties harvested it to make lotus tea,” Jin Ling said, trying to give a more logical explanation.

And it seemed to work, A-Cheng looked contemplative and decided that it made sense.

“Let’s go to the kitchens then! We can ask the kitchen aunties and get them to give us snacks!” he said cheerfully.

“Good idea!” said Lan Jingyi, eager to gloss over his blunder and get free snacks to boot.

A-Cheng wanted to walk like a big boy but he’d been running around for a good while with them to show them the different lakes and the flowers etc. and his little legs were starting to tire, but he was afraid to annoy the gege’s so he valiantly tried to keep up with them on their way to the kitchens.

He was holding Jin Ling’s hand but they weren’t accustomed to having to accommodate for children’s pace and so were unintentionally moving a bit too fast, what with their longer legs and all.

Eventually he tripped up and fell. He wasn’t injured but the shock of it and the fear that he bothered them by not being able to keep up had his eyes welling up again.

He was sniffling and wasn’t very loud but obviously his cries were noticeable.

“Oh no jiujiu!”

Jin Ling picked him up and checked his hands and knees. Seeing the little hands turning red from the impact Jin Ling hastily blew on them as the toddler’s tears fell hotly down his face.

“See, it’s okay, you’re okay!” he said to A-Cheng, “Gege will blow the booboo away!”

He blew on the toddler’s hands a few more times and cuddled him.

Jin Ling didn’t have much experience with kids but that was what Jiang Cheng used to do when he was very small and had accidents. Of course Jiang Cheng also used qi to help heal any real wounds and little Jin Ling thought his jiujiu was the coolest because he could make injuries go away like magic!

But for things like this when he wasn’t really hurt it was just the shock of falling or the pain of impact etc that would cause upset and this was Jiang Cheng’s signature move.

After a few minutes of Jin Ling’s cuddling, when his tears petered out, the little Jiang Cheng said, “Gege knows how to blow away booboos like jiejie!” And he looked at Jin Ling pleasantly surprised.

Oh.

Jin Ling hadn’t known…

Jiang Cheng had never told him that his mother used to do that too. Well, honestly people didn’t talk much about his parents other than how good they both were etc.

Jiang Cheng in a rare mood would tell him stories of when they were younger, but obviously most of them starred Wei Wuxian which was a topic he couldn’t bring up to a young Jin Ling, so it was very limited information that he could share with him growing up anyway.

A bit choked up, Jin Ling said, “Gege learned from his jiujiu.”

“The jiujiu that looks like A-Cheng?”

“That’s right.”

“Flower-gege’s jiujiu must be smart then, like my jiejie!”

“Mm, just like your jiejie.”

Jin Ling felt his eyes sting.

(Ouyang Zizhen shed a tear in the background for him.)

Not wanting mini jiujiu to think it was his fault again for making someone cry he fought off the tears and threw A-Cheng once in the air and caught him again, making him shriek in surprise and delight (as a distraction).

“Now that the booboo is gone let’s go get snacks from the kitchen aunties. Can gege carry you?”

This gege was becoming his favourite so the child quickly agreed to be carried (plus his legs were tired.)

Xoxoxooxoxoxox

When Sizhui relayed the spirit’s words the room became sombre. If the spirit himself didn’t intend for the curse to work this way, then they were really at a loss. It wasn’t designed to do this so they couldn’t know how to fix it. Of course the intention was death so if it had worked like intended then there would be no fixing it at all.

Now there was a chance, but a very small one as they had no idea as to how to go about fixing the problem when they didn’t even know how it truly came about.

Though there was one detail that the spirit had mentioned that might be useful and it was the fact that the curse had been meant specifically for Lan Sizhui. Maybe that was why Sect Leader Jiang had not just died.

“It’s a silver lining,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice strangely hoarse.

“Curses that were meant for specific people can go awry if cast on a different target. In this case Jiang Cheng has a higher cultivation than Sizhui and he interrupted the curse from reaching its target so it malfunctioned. Or at least that’s the best guess I can make at the moment.”

Since the ghost would not be of any more assistance, they sealed him back in the spirit trapping pouch and SIC Pan went on to debrief the sect.

He sent some disciples to River’s end to try and find Shao Jianguo’s remains, and another set went out to Yunping and environs to look for any clue of his family.

Healer Zhang went off to the infirmary to prepare any medication she could think of that they might need in future now that the sect leader was a child with no core.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that his plans were interrupted,” Wei Wuxian said softly.

They all knew that if that curse had hit Lan Sizhui like it was intended to do, that he more than likely would have been dead. The spirit was an old one and his resentment had been partially directed towards Lan Sizhui’s biological family. It would have been a double whammy.

“I just wish it hadn’t hit Sect Leader Jiang,” Sizhui said, still feeling terribly guilty. Wen Ning squeezed his shoulder lightly as support.

Wei Wuxian shook his head a bit. “Jiang Cheng is strong, he will come back from this…. Even… even if we have to raise him again, he will be okay.”

Nobody mentioned Wei Wuxian’s wobbly voice.

0 notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt~ hoping you'll like it ♥️

Things between the Nie brothers are not always nice and happy, they fight, just like any other pair of brothers, and sometimes things are said, sometimes these things are heavy and painful. Sometimes they're said in the wrong moment (maybe at the eve of a battle? Sunshot campaign?) and huaisang doesn't know what to do with the broken look his brother gives him before leaving the unclean realm. Because what if he doesn't return? What if the last thing he said to him was how much he hated the man he became?

Labyrinth - ao3

“But I didn’t mean to wish him away!” Nie Huaisang cried out.

“That’s really too bad,” the goblin king said, looking pleasant and humble and charming the way he always did, even in his cape of glittering gold and high-browed hat. “I wish there was something I could do for you, but the rules are the rules. You wished him away, and I took him.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only take babies?” Nie Huaisang demanded.

“Your brother’s enough of a crybaby to count, it’s close enough.”

“It is not!” Nie Huaisang wrung his hands. “You don’t understand, the last thing I said to him was that I hated him! Meng Yao, please!”

“It’s Jin Guangyao,” the goblin king corrected. His smile looked a bit strained. “Listen, do you think I’m happy about this? He’s my sworn brother! I’m only doing what I have to –”

“Oh, save it for Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang growled. “Show me the labyrinth already.”

“You’re going to face the labyrinth,” the goblin king said. His voice was very polite, and yet still expressed significant doubt. “You.”

“Yeah, me!”

“You remember that it goes ‘through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered’, right? Not ‘through a nice teacher and a forgiving grading system’?”

“Yeah, well, your father is a fragging aardvark. Let me at the labyrinth already!”

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

The life-sized animated puppet blinked at him. “You – don’t want my help?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“You haven’t even gotten into the labyrinth yet!”

“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t have a chance to get in,” Nie Huaisang said, patting around his sleeve and pulling out a fan. “So I’m just going to walk over and beat at the wall till something happens.”

The puppet followed him, staring blankly. Quite a change from his original apologetic ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy with my own things, I really can’t help you, also it’s too dangerous and you shouldn’t go’ response.

“You were blackmailing me to help you just a moment ago,” the puppet said after a little. “Don’t you need a guide?”

“Listen, I’m bad at memorizing things and I’m a little useless, but I’m not actually dumb,” Nie Huaisang said, fanning himself. “Jin Guangyao is a demon of the mind above all else, and the labyrinth is supposed to be ‘fair’ – which means, more than likely, that the labyrinth is a reflection of the subconscious, specially tailored to each person’s strengths and weaknesses. And that means that you, who sound exactly like Lan Xichen, are almost certainly a set-up sent by Jin Guangyao to ‘reluctantly’ aid me and then betray me.”

“Uh,” Lan Xichen-the-puppet said. “My name’s Hoggle, actually.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, er-ge…A-ha!” Nie Huaisang beamed at the gates that automatically opened. “Perfect!”

“Oh, don’t go that way,” the worm said. “Never go that way. And are you sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea?”

“No time,” Nie Huaisang said. “Thanks a lot – wait.”

The worm blinked at him.

“You’re a pretty attractive worm, in a slimy sort of way,” Nie Huaisang said, frowning at him.

The worm blinked again. “Why, thanks!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Is your name Su She, by chance?”

“Definitely not!”

“Mm. Oddly vehement of you. Never mind. Just, quick, could you tell me exactly why do I not want to go that way?”

“I don’t suppose straight ahead is an option?”

The hands-faces stared at him.

“I’m just saying, I feel like most of my problems so far have come from the fact that I decided to accept the whole concept of turns. It seems like a mistake.”

“…it’s a labyrinth,” another set of the hands said. “You have to make turns!”

Nie Huaisang shook his head mournfully. “I should’ve brought Baxia or something and just – ZIP. Gone straight through. You know what I mean?”

“I’m dropping you in the oubliette regardless of your decision,” the first set of the hands said. It sounded a bit like Sect Leader Yao. “Just so you know.”

“My life is so hard,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “So hard! Do you know what it’s like to be overlooked by everyone? Do you know how hard I have to work at being this useless?”

“Drop him,” the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Ouyang said, and the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Yao said, “Yes. Now!”

Down Nie Huaisang went.

“I can take you back to the beginning of the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen offered.

“What, and waste all that time? I have a time limit, er-ge!”

“It’s better than being stuck in an oubliette. That’s where they put people to forget about them, you know.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled with tears. “You want to forget me, er-ge? You think I’m useless, don’t you? A good-for-nothing, who’ll never amount to anything –”

“Please don’t cry.”

“ER-GE! WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME!”

“Please stop crying!”

“So what’s the point of you?” Nie Huaisang asked the Wise Man with the Talking Hat.

“Not everyone exists to contribute to your storyline,” the Talking Hat snapped at him. “Some of us’ve got our own problems. Now hand over the candy!”

“Don’t be mean,” the Wise Man said. He had a white cloth over his eyes, and was smiling like he found the hat funny.

“Awww, but daozhang…!”

“Different plotline entirely, I guess,” Nie Huaisang decided. “Probably just here as a foil. Shall we keep going, er-ge?”

“I can’t believe you scammed me to get out of the oubliette,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “I can’t believe…”

“Oh, leave him alone, he’s just sensitive!” Nie Huaisang snapped.

“Am not!” the upside-down creature snarled, curled up on itself and trying to hide from all those that had been hitting him. Its fur was a vivid sort of purple. “Go away!”

“Don’t you have some sort of special power to help you here,” Nie Huaisang asked him as he tried to get him down before the goblins came back with weapons. “Rocks, maybe?”

“…lightning?”

“Well then get to it, will you?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Wait. Lightning, constantly being tormented, terrible at communication, and purple? You’re Jiang Cheng, aren’t you?”

“…maybe.”

“Well then get down faster! I need to copy someone’s notes here!”

“Leave me aloooooooone!” Nie Huaisang howled, running away from the measuring snake.

“Wow,” Lan Xichen said, holding his cheek. “You kissed me.”

“You saved me from the snakes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Can we focus on how we’re in this awful stinking bog?”

“It’s not that bad!” a voice piped up. “I don’t smell anything!”

Nie Huaisang turned to stare, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “I bet the total absence of a sense of smell helps when you eat spicy food, Wei-xiong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with spicy food!”

“You’re short,” Nie Huaisang informed the small goblin-like creature with the big grin and the red ribbon in its hair. It looked vaguely fox-like, or possibly like certain large breeds of rabbit.

“Why you..!” Wei Wuxian crossed his furry little paws over his chest. “Just for that, I’m not going to help you.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Really. That’s awful…oh no! A dog!”

Wei Wuxian jumped high into the air. “A dog?! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Save me!”

Much to Nie Huaisang’s surprise, a furry dog immediately darted out of nowhere – only Wei Wuxian didn’t seem afraid of it, but rather hid behind it, teeth chattering.

Truly, Nie Huaisang reflected, the eyes of love are blind.

“I think the ‘dog’ is gone now,” he said. “Your brave and noble Lan Wangji must’ve scared him away.”

Wei Wuxian’s head popped out from behind dog-Wangji. “Well, Lan Zhan is really cool…hey. Are you trying to manipulate me?”

“Is it working?”

“No!”

“So you won’t help me?”

“No!”

“Not even if it means you get to figure out a really tricky puzzle?”

“No – wait. A puzzle?”

“I can’t believe this is going to work,” Lan Xichen muttered from behind Nie Huaisang. “I mean, I can. But also…Wangji…I love you, but you could do so much better than this.”

“Ugh,” Nie Huaisang said. “I’m so thirsty.”

“Have some Emperor’s Smile,” Lan Xichen said, offering a jar.

“Amazing,” Nie Huaisang said, accepting it and taking a swing. “I had my doubts, you know, but you’re actually good for something after all, er-ge –”

The golden bird was Nie Huaisang’s favorite.

He’d worked so hard to bring it back to his aviary – it couldn’t be forced, he knew; it would play along at first but in the end it would turn on you and bite you. It had to be coaxed with gentleness and kindness, approached indirectly so as not to spook it, convince it that you really did mean well – that you were harmless, that it had no reason to fear you. It was arrogant, too, proud of its shining feathers and ashamed of the brown plumage of its chick days, which still remained visible on its tender underbelly. Ironically, that was Nie Huaisang’s favorite part of it, the soft and gentle part; it might not be as pretty as the gold, but it felt more genuine.

Nie Huaisang smiled as he brushed the beautiful feathers, and the golden bird allowed him. He felt cherished, treasured. So what if he had to hide all the sharp parts of himself to get this close?

It was fine. He didn’t like to be sharp.

He wanted to be soft. Soft and gentle, careless and free, relaxed and without effort, good for nothing –

Wait.

No!

“It’s all junk,” Nie Huaisang hissed at the pile of burning fans, tears in his eyes. “I want my da-ge!”

“You’re all right!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, helping pulled Nie Huaisang up.

“Huaisang-xiong,” Jiang Cheng said, looking relieved. “You’re back.”

“We have to go to the temple beyond the Goblin City,” Nie Huaisang said, teeth gritted together. “We have to. I won’t let that bastard…we’re going to go there and throw all his damned tricks right in his face!”

“Just us?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I mean, I’m awesome, Lan Zhan is fantastic, and of course Jiang Cheng is great, too, but…uh…there’s a lot of goblins in the city.”

“We’ll sneak in,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks he’s sidelined me entirely – he thinks I’m useless. He won’t be expecting me to get this far.”

“I can get help,” Jiang Cheng said. “I have friends.”

“…not to be rude, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “But – really?”

“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said, eyeing the pile of rocks following Jiang Cheng around, each one painted with a name. One of the names was yellow. Two were in white, with forehead ribbons. “This is fine. I feel like it says something really rude about my empathy for and interest in our junior generation, or lack thereof, but you know what? I don’t care. It’s fine.”

“You saved me,” Nie Huaisang said blankly, looking at Lan Xichen, who shrugged, abashed. The remains of the mechanical temple guard were scattered all over. “Over – him?”

“Huaisang –”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “Don’t. Don’t…I don’t want to hear you talk.”

Lan Xichen’s head dropped down and he looked at the ground. “You knew from the beginning what I was like,” he murmured. “I never tried to hide it –”

“I forgive you for being what you are,” Nie Huaisang told him, and Lan Xichen looked up at him, startled and pleased. “I forgive you for not having the backbone to stand up against Jin Guangyao for me – or for da-ge. For being willfully blind for so long, for needing someone else’s proof of his ill-intentions, for always picking him first, for never trusting me…I forgive you, even if you’d never forgive me for the same.”

He dashed away the angry tears in his eyes.

“I just wish this wasn’t a fucking metaphor.”

Nie Huaisang left the fighting to the people who knew what to do – Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, even the rock-juniors – and went to the temple at the center of the city alone.

Some things, he knew, needed to be done alone, even if it was the type of alone when you were surrounded by other people. Even when those other people stood by his side and made him promise that if he needed them, he would only need to call. Some things…

“I want my da-ge back,” he said to the maze of stairs.

“Then go and find him,” Jin Guangyao replied, looking smug, and Nie Huaisang had to go up and down all those fucking stairs, because Jin Guangyao was nothing if not predictable with his trauma, looking all over, looking for –

Looking for pieces.

“It’s just a metaphor,” he whispered to himself, ignoring how tears were streaming down his face. “It’s just – I need to put him back together, it’s fine. I’m not too late – I’m not too late –”

Jin Guangyao held Nie Mingjue’s head in his hands, blinded and gagged and bound with talismans, pulled out of whatever oubliette he'd shoved it into to forget about what he'd done. “Beware, Huaisang,” he said, still smiling. Always smiling. “I’ve been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”

Nie Huaisang laughed, scoffing. “Generous? What have you done for me that’s generous?”

“Everything! Everything you’ve wanted, I’ve done – I cared for you, I gave you attention, I got you out of work, doing your schoolwork for you and coming up with excuses to get you out of saber training. I gave you presents, fans and pretty clothing, and when that brute of a brother of yours tried to take them from you, I rescued you. And then I even managed your sect for you, answered all of your questions, any time you had – Huaisang, I’m exhausted trying to live up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth. “Half of those are burdens that only fell on me because of you. Why should it matter to me that cleaning up your own mess and satisfying your own guilt is hard? Why should I pay such a price when all I wanted was to be your friend? When all da-ge wanted was to be your friend? How dare you, Meng Yao!”

“Huaisang…” Jin Guangyao shook his head mournfully. “Huaisang, the last step here is to say the words to break the spell. But you were never good at memorization, were you?”

Nie Huaisang bit his lip until he drew blood.

“Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered,” he said. “I have fought my way here to the temple beyond the goblin city –”

“Huaisang, stop! Look at what you’re risking here. You know how everyone loves me – do you think anyone will forgive you for taking me down, for tricking them all? You’ll be all alone!”

I already am, Nie Huaisang thought.

“My will is as strong as yours,” he said. “And my kingdom is as great…”

His voice trailed off.

“I ask for so little,” Jin Guangyao said beseechingly, convincingly, looking just like he always did, like the man who'd been their friend. “Just let me fool you, and you can have anything you want. No responsibilities, no stress, a life of your own. You can even have Lan Xichen, if that’s what you want…”

What’s the last line, Nie Huaisang thought, hating himself for being such a poor student, for cramming things into his mind without any order, for never being able to retain a single drop of it no matter how hard he tried. What is it? Why can’t I ever remember?

“It’d be so easy,” Jin Guangyao crooned. “Much easier than this. Just fear me, love me, believe me, and I’ll be your slave.”

Sharp teeth in a false smile.

Nie Huaisang shook in terror. He couldn’t – his da-ge needed him – he couldn’t be afraid, couldn’t be a coward, couldn’t be good-for-nothing – couldn’t let Jin Guangyao win – couldn’t let him –

That was it.

Nie Huaisang raised his head until his eyes met his enemy’s.

Sensing something wrong, Jin Guangyao’s eternal smile dimmed, and he began to step forward, reaching out, but it was too late.

“You have no power over me,” Nie Huaisang declared, and the world within a world collapsed.

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes.

Nie Huaisang sat in his desk in the Unclean Realm, trying to amuse himself by trying to figure out what exactly he’d eaten the night before that had given him such bizarre dreams. It was not successful, on account of him being alone.

Alone, just as he had been every night, and every day as well, since the success of his scheme at the Guanyin Temple.

Just as the dream-Jin Guangyao had threatened.

It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang regretted what he had done – the dream was clear enough about that; he’d do it all again in a heartbeat if he had to. But in the dream he’d been working alongside his former friends, with Lan Xichen betraying but then returning to him, with Wei Wuxian dragging Lan Wangji around, with stone-faced Jiang Cheng and the rather interchangeable junior squad behind him…and in his dream, in the end, they’d let him go to take his revenge, telling him that if he needed them for any reason, he could just call.

Just call, and they’d come back to him. Instead of turning from him in disgust, they’d stand by his side…

“Stupid subconscious,” Nie Huaisang mumbled to himself. “What do you expect? That I'd write to them and say ‘for no real reason at all, I find that I rather need you’?”

Silence answered him.

“Well, I do,” he said with a sigh, putting his chin on his hands. “Does that make you happy? I do need you.”

“You do?” Wei Wuxian’s voice rang out, and Nie Huaisang jumped nearly out of his skin. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Nie Huaisang turned, staring: it was Wei Wuxian at the door, the human version of him, and of course there was Lan Wangji right before him, and Jiang Cheng, and the (still mostly interchangeable) juniors, and – and even Lan Xichen, who Nie Huaisang was sure had gone into seclusion with no intent to leave.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Huaisang squeaked. And why hadn’t any of his sect disciples warned him?

“We just bullied our way though the door before anyone could stop us,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, answering the unspoken question first. “As for the rest – it turns out that I had the strangest dream the other night, really, truly bizarre, and obviously I had to tell Lan Zhan all about it, except it turned out he had a strange dream too.”

Nie Huaisang’s jaw dropped. “But –”

“I felt da-ge’s qi woven into the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen said quietly. “I thought it’d have long ago dissipated or been locked away, but – it was there, in every stone, in every turn. Every obstacle that didn’t really hurt you, every goblin that was more silly than scary…he was there. It was unmistakable.”

Nie Huaisang swallowed. The story of the labyrinth, baby-stealing wish-granting goblin king and all, had been one that Nie Mingjue had told him as a bedtime story, when he'd been a child in need of comfort; he hadn’t thought of it in years before last night. “But…why…?”

“Because Chifeng-zun has a demented sense of humor?” Jiang Cheng suggested, looking irritated.

“Jiujiu means that he hasn’t had that much fun in years, and also that you should throw a party,” Jin Ling said. “You are hosting all three of the sect leaders of all the other Great Sects. Also, why were we rocks?”

“Uh, no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Da-ge’s weird sense of humor, no doubt! Anyway, did you say party? I can do a party!”

He rushed out of the room, calling for his servants, calling for them to bring food and wine and tea, and as he did, he looked out of the window – a golden bird was flying away, looking hunted as if something was chasing it, and even as he watched, it crossed the borders of the Unclean Realm and suddenly dissolved into a fizzle of golden dust.

Nie Huaisang put his hand on the stone wall, and felt a familiar echo.

A very familiar echo.

“Oh,” he said, to his servants, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and filled with joy. “And while you’re at it, can you bring me my saber? I seem to have – misplaced it…”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #lan xichen #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #lan wangji #su she #sect leader yao #sect leader ouyang #xiao xingchen #xue yang #my fic #my fics #labyrinth

325 notes · View notes

tossawary · 3 years

Note

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

TBC

#timetomakeanewwish #tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #unrealistically young prodigy liu qingge au #ask tossawary

120 notes · View notes

demonslayedher · 3 years

Text

Ramble on the Limitations of Looking for KnY Interpretation based on Japanese Mythology

One thing I notice a lot in the Japanese side of KnY fandom theories is a lot of deep dives into religious and mythological reasons behind Gotouge's creative choices. It is super interesting stuff, and Gotouge borrows enough and does homage to enough that there is a clearly a solid knowledge base there. While I find historical details handy for interpreting the characters, ultimately, I find that the canon of demons and Breaths can be interpreted in a vacuum without relying too heavily on the uncanny coincidences lurking in deep dives. This isn't going to be a well-supported essay, this is going to be a ramble that may include a bunch of interesting nuggets. (And then she went on to ramble for 3249 unedited words...)

First things first: I'm a nerd. I like to say I broke the weeb scale a long time ago, but I'm not exactly a university professor or anything like that. That said, I do read a lot of stuff from experts who have jumped on the KnY trends to talk about how elements in KnY are taken from, say, the sword making traditions of the Okuizumo region that results in black swords or simply making comparisons to famous swords, or local legends of supernatural encounters that resulted in split rocks, or comparing specific oni with and the heroes who slayed them or at least comparing elements of specific characters to other famous oni legends, or that Hinokami Kagura is based on a specific Shinto legend and has 12 forms based on existing Kagura traditions, etc. And I love reading this stuff, because I wouldn't had learned about some of it without my interest in KnY leading me to those articles, or as I read it I cheer because they're making references to things I already (as a nerd) really enjoy and therefore it strokes my inner echo chamber bias, or I nod along and think, "oh, yes, why of course, that makes total sense, Hinokami Kagura must be based on the dance Amenouzume performed to enticed the Sun Goddess Amaterasu out of the cave, how silly to think it could be based on anything else" but I then also take a step back to think, "...but it also doesn't have to be." For as many similarities as there to existing legends, it feels to me that Gotouge made it a point not to make specific reference to any particular mythological or religious elements. As an example, Gotouge considered titles with reference to a Shinto fire god named "Kagutsuchi" but never made actual reference to any fire god (or sun god) by name in the finalized direction canon took. Granted, a lot of fan theorists have read into that, going so far as to say because Nezuko's fire powers she represents Kagutsuchi, Yoriichi represents Amaterasu, etc., but while I find the idea of borrowed elements makes for highly interested interpretation of canon, one-to-one comparisons really don't work for this series. By not invoking a name like Kagutsuchi in the title or otherwise, Gotouge succeeded in not being boxed in by the canon of any particular deity. (Granted, "canon" for mythology can vary significantly by whatever historical writings you're looking at, with standard interpretations going through many big changes throughout the centuries. It can be as loose as it is limiting, depending on what sort of historical/mythological/religious figure you're talking about.) I feel there's more evidence of this avoidance by never invoking Amaterasu as a deity, despite the emphasis on the power of the sun in slaying demons. Even looking back and trying to figure out who Akeno placed so much faith, it was only called a "god of sunlight" as opposed to a "sun god." It's as though KnY works with a generic approach to religion. Even if the use of Buddhist element, the Nenbutsu prayer is called such, and Himejima's repeated phrases are legit Buddhist practice, but there is a huge variety of Buddhist sects and practices and theologies, and throughout history, many of them didn't get along. Going back to Akeno and wondering if she might had been Buddhist, I went so far as to suspect she was influenced by Nichirin sect philosophy based on its emphasis on the "Nichi" (sun) representing Japan and incorporating Shinto gods into its philosophy, and for its likely influence in the Kanto area in Akeno's time period, and for its encouragement for the salvation of women and therefore popularity among women. I felt pretty satisfied that it was all lining up, but also, none of this is necessary for a quality interpretation of canon. If Gotouge wanted to say specifically what informed her religious conviction, then it would had been said. But that's not what was important, was it? What was important, and therefore focused on, was Akeno's feelings toward her son and wishes for his sake.

While KnY's worldbuilding feels richer with all the clear religious influence, the details are not actually important. If anything, I feel like Gotouge dove into the heart of the elements of, say, Shinto mythology, and played those core elements up. It's different, yet still familiar, to take sun-associated elements and used them in a way that serves the story without being boxed into existing traditions. The sun is clearly important, and once you start looking for it, you find subtle recurring references to it. Like, Akeno's name? The "Ake" is one way of writing "red," and there are all sorts of uses of other ways of writing "red" throughout the series, in everything from the sand used for making Nichirin blades to the way that Haganezuka calls Tanjiro an auspicious "red" child with a very rarely used kanji. Our commoner main characters, though, just use regular old ways of saying "red" when referencing Tanjiro's appearance without thinking deeply into it, like there's something special right in front of them but they don't recognize it. Similar to how something as special as Sun Breathing was hidden right in front of them in Hinokami Kagura, with a name so generic and simple that it's entirely unsurprising that the Taisho era Kamado family would interpret it as "fire god." The very lack of limiting real-life details is what allows Gotouge to sprinkle these deep touches around, cover them up with branches and leaves, and then sit back and wait for readers to stroll through and invitingly pleasant looking field and then trip and fall down a rabbit hole. This is also what I think gives Gotouge the freedom and malleability to work with the sun in a way that serves the story, especially in ways that tie it to fire. While I don't think there's strong ties for this is general Japanese culture, the way canon is written implies a close tie between fire and the sun as being a very closely related element, hence the influence on the Kamado family, Tanjiro's appearance, his suitability for Sun Breathing based on a history of tending fire for careful charcoal burning, and Tanjiro and Nezuko capability as demons to overcome the sun. Here is where I go into a bit of a tangent about the purification element. This, again, is not strictly tied to any particular Shinto canon (and Shinto does place heavy emphasis on purification), but instead is an example of Gotouge getting to the underlying heart of a lot of common religious elements. Fire is associated with spiritual purification in everything from Buddhism to Catholicism, it's very easy to apply Nezuko's fire abilities as something which burns away something evil (demon poison) so as to purify something good (human flesh, or even other physical substances). Maybe lesser known, but very deeply entrenched in Japanese culture, is the purification element of charcoal. While it may be known around the world for soaking up undesirable elements and therefore used in everything from fish tank filters to treating food poisoning, in Japan, there's a bit of a spiritual side to it as well. For something so closely tied to the way of life for citizens throughout hundreds of years of history for everything from cooking to heating the home, it's unsurprising that quality charcoal would receive as much emphasis as good water and rice. Japanese charcoal is especially known for not producing undesirable smoke or odor, making it appropriate for use in a lot of settings. Charcoal farmers have often not just been that; they've been caretakers of the forest. Keeping the right trees, at the right sizes (both for use as charcoal and for how you pack it together when making charcoal), and in the right numbers to ensure you have stock for coming years, requires management of the forest. (Other tangent side note: many of the other names in the Kamado family are references to plants. Sumire both has the "sumi" sound of charcoal and is the word for violet, Kie is in reference to hollyhock, Nezuko is in reference to red beans (and the asanoha pattern of her kimono is in reference to hemp leaf, an

auspicious symbol of strong and quick growth), Takeo is in reference to bamboo (ironically bamboo can be a problematic plant for charcoal farmers, because it may spread too fast and take resources from other trees--stop stealing all the takuan pickles, Takeo!), Hanako is in general reference to flowers, Shigeru is in general reference to (plants) flourishing, and maybe by the time they got to Rokuta they gave up and said "he's our sixth child, let's just call him 'Six-Boy', lolz." BUT I DIGRESS.) That means the Kamado family not only had careful management of fire in the actual days of charcoal production, but of a wide variety of natural resources to ensure the trees were healthy. Natural weather phenomena, clean water, pest control, minerals from rocks getting into the soil, hmm, so many elements to pay attention to. Hmm. These sure sound a lot like other Breaths. And Breaths all stem from Sun Breathing. That means there may be certain elements of Sun Breathing that have been emphasized in each of them, but none of them encompass so many qualities of the natural world. The natural world which Yoriichi saw with such clarity than nature accepted him with open arms, practically, in how well animals took to him. Sun Breathing, while especially using that all-important purification aspect of sunlight which burns evil demons, is like an all encompassing embrace of nature. While being closely tied with fire is hugely important, there's more to it than just flames. While Shinto is very much so closely tied with nature (the extent to which this is emphasized may vary from shrine to shrine, scholar to scholar), what I see in KnY is a clever use of emphasis on spirituality in nature as opposed to emphasis on Shinto mythology. And I think that was a smart move. While stories based more directly on various theologies, mythologies, and religious ideologies often use those building blocks often wind up having very creative takes on them (even and especially with the confines of them), ultimately, the story of KnY is whatever Gotouge wants to do with it, and it does not seem guided by the specific conventions of more specific religious elements. But again, those deeper elements are still everywhere. You know what color Japanese charcoal burns? It's a gorgeous jewel tone red, spanning many of those rare shades of red Gotouge make reference to. And, in wider Japanese culture, red is the color of the sun (as opposed to how other cultures may represent it as yellow or orange or white or so on). (Not as exactly a KnY tangent, just personal: Japanese charcoal is so freaking pretty, I had no idea until I saw it used in the tea ceremony at parts when guests crowd around to enjoy the sight of it as the host prepares it for boiling the water. I can stare and stare and stare, it is so so so so so pretty, but also this element of the ceremony has gotten rarer both as many places have made a more practical switch to electricity, and tea ceremony quality has gotten more rare both due to fewer producers and due to beetle-related damages to the trees used, and I will always state HOW DISAPPOINTED I am that Kanata and Sumihiko are not out there raising charcoal, because charcoal is precious and I'm always so terrified of wasting charcoal in my practices because its so precious, but seeing the amazingly beautiful burn of the charcoal is absolutely one of my favorite elements of the ceremony and this of course gives me an extra soft spot for Kamado Tanjiro BUT I DIGRESS AGAIN, I TOLD you this was going to be a ramble, but SERIOUSLY IT IS SUCH A GORGEOUS RED).

So anyway. My point is, as interesting as incorporating outside elements may be, I don't find them necessary in interpreting KnY's canon. Even if it takes tons of Taisho Secrets to do so, Gotouge presents the details necessary, and that's more than enough to work with. After all, despite all the care taken in historical details in building the setting, KnY takes place in a fictional universe, it can make its own rules when it comes to things that don't actually exist in our universe. Demons, for example, follow a chronology and power system with sources and limits that is unique to a this universe, as tempting as it is due to general cultural familiarity, it does not call for a one-to-one comparison with existing demon legends. Breath as well, as a power system, is very interesting. Again, this is because it has a lot of basis in core concepts of real life physical and spiritual training. It's presented as a method available to anyone who can pick it up, not drawing on a mystical outside power or summoning the actual superhuman elements of nature. Other stories that present their power systems like that are well and fine, but when it comes down to it, this is a story about mere humans doing everything in their limited power to wave swords around and defeat creatures that seem so likely to outpower them. This is a common, relatable basis of stories throughout history, and a lot of analysis I've heard of KnY's success says that it shows how classic this story structure is. Many Japanese demon stories have their origin in epidemics, and some people suggest that the world looks for hope in stories like KnY in times of seemingly insurmountable crises like coronavirus. I think that's an oversimplification of KnY's success, but again, because of Gotouge's use of core cultural elements, it can be applied easily. OKAY BUT ON THAT NOTE we can do some really interesting digging if we want. : D Gotouge does make some highly specific references, included religious ones (granted, not in ways that impact the plot). The example coming to mind is the Seventh Form of Thunder Breathing, the "Flaming Thunder God." In Japanese, this is "Honoikazuchi-no-Kami," the name of a lightning deity who had a very, very brief mention in the Kojiki and who appeared among a handful of other lightning deities named in reference to other aspects/phenomena of lightning, like the sound or the rumble through the ground. Honoikazuchi is not so much the lightning itself, but the fires started by lightning. Stick with me a bit longer, I'm building up to something here. You've probably heard of the twelve animals of the Chinese (poorly translated as) Zodiac, right? Well, the system is way more complex than that, and really, if you want complexity, skip Japan and go dive straight into ancient China. I laugh and cry at myself for having a graduate degree in Chinese studies, the extent of my knowledge is is pitifully small, I know nothing, nothing. Suffice to say, China has its own five element system of water/wood/metal/fire/earth, it's more a philosophical application than a more physicality-based four element system popular in the west (fire/water/air/earth, why hello there, Avatar), with attributes of these elements assigned to every about anything through Chinese culture, from medicine to, you guessed it, the Zodiac animals. Japan saw all this and said "cool, we'll do that too" albeit their sort of mixed and matched a bit and made their own take on it in Onmyodo. An Onmyoji, who keeps track of, like, really any other-worldly matter you might have on your hands as a Heian noble, is someone who is paid to know all this stuff (it was very likely an Onmyoji who told the Ubuyashiki clan, "yeah, you got an evil family member to blame for your curse, squash him"). Yours Truly is not an Onmyoji and therefore will not attempt to go into more detail, save the one that a handful of Japanese theorists in the KnY fandom love to bring up: The Boar is a water sign. This means that, especially in Shinto practice, boars are considered an animal that protects against

fire, hence, a lot of practices to protect against fires were done on days of the Boar, in the month of the Boar, etc. So? So-o-o-o-o-o? You see it? You see it??? Boar = Water, Honoikazuchi = Fire, Inosuke and Zenitsu are basically foils to Tanjiro? Yes, yes, see it, yessss??? Deep dive Kamaboko theory, yes?????? Hahahaha. Naw. It's just a fun coincidence. ^_^ Again, I find these details completely unnecessary, for we are already given so many details in canon to work with on its own, and I think Inosuke and Zenitsu as foils to Tanjiro works entirely well simply based on their personalities, not because of any supernatural elements that require a high level of nerdery to have any hope of appreciating. Besides, once you start reaching too hard for cultural details Gotouge might have used and clinging too tightly to those ideas, there's likely something in canon to make it doubtful. For instance, Inosuke more widely presented as a king of the forest who wears deer and bear hide as well, and the fanbook state that Beast Breath is considered a likely offshoot of Wind Breathing. Even if we rely more strictly on historical detail, there's still the question of, say, what one of the basic Breaths, Thunder Breathing, even was when it was but a thunder inspired sword form not necessarily powered by Breath, you know, back when swords were longer and it would have been harder to make the fast draws katana would later be better suited for. Maybe they called it Thunder because it was practiced by swordsmen who stomped around really hard, and then when they added Breath technique, they figured out "oh dude, we can use our strong legs to go fast"??

Those are the kinds of things I find more fun to play around with in interpreting canon by bringing in little outside details, because as a work of fiction, there are already so many fun details to work with already even when treating it in a vacuum. But, giving Gotouge extensive and subtle use of cultural elements, especially core elements, it sure makes a lot of outside details applicable. Which is all to say, it's all super interesting, and I think the more people realize these things, the deeper they read into it, to an extent more than canon calls for. As much as I like it, and as much as I've enjoyed pulling outside elements in to fanfiction (like Kagutsuchi and lightning god tidbits), ultimately, if Gotouge thought these things were necessary, they'd have been included. Since they are not, I try to stick to canon details and Word of God-touge in answering Asks (lolz, I didn't plan on becoming a meta blog, it just kinda happened). BUT ALSO, JEEZ, I AM SO EXCITED IF PEOPLE TAKE A DEEPER INTEREST IN JAPANESE CULTURE BECAUSE THEY LIKE KIMETSU NO YAIBA, YOU CAN HAVE SO-O-O-O-O-O MUCH FUN PLANNING A TRIP TO JAPAN AROUND KNY THEMES, DO IT DO IT DO IT, GO TO YAGYU AND POSE IN A TANJIRO HAORI AND STICK YOUR SWORD IN A SPLIT ROCK, THE LOCALS THERE LOVE IT, DO IT but also like maybe learn about the tea ceremony and appreciate how beautiful the charcoal is with me k thx bye

#kny fandom theories and meta #sooooorta #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #am I a Pillar or a Demon?#neither #I am but a nerd

80 notes · View notes

baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 55

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Google Docs file

“I want to see A-Yuan.”

WangJi suppresses a sigh, and makes no response.

Jiang WanYin, who has likely never suppressed a single thing in his life, bristles like a cat, “Are you deaf, as well as stupid? The Lan Sect Leader has ordered that you rest. Granny Wen has ordered that you rest. You are not going.”

Slumped against the pillows, Wei Ying does appear feeble and weak, his body motionless in a way that suggests an exhaustion too deep for needless activity. It had taken a long time to remove all the trappings of rank necessary for the audience he had held. It had not taken nearly as long as the initial preparation, but long enough where even Lady Jiang had looked worn down by the process. WangJi’s task during this time had involved standing on the other side of the screen, listening to the faint mutters, and being handed layers upon layers of silk. The disrobing process had resulted in a succession of whispering, slithering sounds, both of silk against silk, and silk against Wei Ying’s skin, sounds that will doubtlessly haunt him in his dreams.

He is not precisely tired, but he is beginning to feel brittle in an unfamiliar way. The day had been long and stressful, allowing no time for contemplation and reflection. There will be consequences to the assistance the Lan Sect had provided to the Emperor. There will be consequences to such a blatant attack on the Divine Ruler, and these consequences may range anywhere from a set of executions, to an outright war. There will be consequences to Wei Ying’s actions today, the audience he had held, his defense of Wen RuoHan, his order for the immediate release of the Wen Sect from the Imperial dungeons.

Only days ago, WangJi would have disregarded the majority of these events as issues beyond his scope of understanding and responsibility, but today, he cannot. Soon enough, this will be his world as well. The Second Young Master of a disgraced Sect need only obey. The Emperor Consort must understand the complexities of ruling an Empire, the consequences of each decision made, the hierarchy governing the sect relations, and the full scope of the delicate balancing act that keeps the Empire peaceful and prosperous.

This is the cost of marrying Wei Ying, a price that WangJi is more than willing to pay. But it is a cost made no less overwhelming by his willingness.

Wei Ying’s expression turns stubborn, “He is alone among strangers, thinking I am on my death bed. I want to see him.”

“Wei WuXian,” Jiang WanYin says tightly, “if you can get up right now and walk out of this palace on your own two feet, you can go see A-Yuan, or go straight to hell for all I care.”

Lady Jiang may have acquiesced to his request, but she had taken her leave. The Imperial guards could have been ordered to carry Wei Ying anywhere he desires to go, but this would defeat the purpose of keeping the child hidden.

Wei Ying had been ordered to sleep.

WangJi thinks, if he could only be persuaded to close his eyes and stop speaking for a moment, the exhaustion he is trying so hard to ignore would accomplish the rest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, turning his head, his eyes large and shining, “I want to see A-Yuan.”

Wisps of hair are stuck to his cheek, curving around the line of his jaw. His face is pale, but his lips are no longer bloodless, hovering just on the verge of a pout. WangJi knows that this is an expression Wei Ying has used before; he has seen it turned on Lady Jiang, and he has seen it throughly shatter her resolve. He remembers thinking Lady Jiang too easily swayed by such obvious tactics. He remembers thinking that he, himself, would never fold so easily by a mere hint of a pout.

WangJi is a fool. Love must permanently remove the most essential parts of one’s brain, because he can say absolutely nothing in response to Wei Ying’s plea.

Instead, his mind unhelpfully provides the memory of Wei Ying’s braid coiled in his lap. Wei Ying’s temple pressed to the side of his neck. The rich scent of ripe pears. The curve of Wei Ying’s waist through the heavy silk of the Imperial dragon robes.

Underneath these memories, his mind is hopelessly sifting through possible solutions to the issue. Wei Ying most certainly can not walk out of the palace on his own two feet. He can not cross his own chambers without being supported, and would likely need to be carried any longer distances. A-Yuan cannot be brought to him, as the situation at court is still dangerously tense, and the child must remain hidden.

“If you attempt this,” WangJi says carefully, “you will fall ill before you reach him. It will scare the child, to see you so weak. But if you must go see him, I will carry you.”

Jiang WanYin splutters.

Wei Ying’s eyes widen.

The expression on his face, the baffled disbelief slowly melting into a familiar softness, is so open, so transparent, that WangJi feels his own face heat in response. He is suddenly finding the embroidery on Wei Ying’s bed curtains extremely fascinating.

“You are both right,” Wei Ying says after a few moments, “I should not go tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Ugh,” Jiang WanYin says, “Now I feel ill too. Just go to sleep.”

“You leave first,” Wei Ying says, “I want to speak to Lan Zhan.”

Jiang WanYin makes a noise. It is a wordless one, but it still manages to perfectly express a hefty dose of disgust. He leaves quickly, as if afraid that Wei Ying will begin to speak to Lan Zhan before he has managed to make his exit.

Wei Ying reaches out, but seems to do so unthinkingly, the motion immediately interrupted by a hiss of pain. Perhaps the wrist injury is not the most serious one he had suffered, but WangJi has noticed him forget that particular pain often enough, where each resurgence catches him by surprise. In two steps, he finds himself by the bed, but once there, he is forced to stop and practice some self-restraint.

“You promised to be more careful,” he says, “The Head Healer should have strapped that arm to your chest.”

He means it as an admonishment, but his voice does a poor job conveying anything other than worry.

“It does not hurt,” Wei Ying lies with a smile, “Come sit next to me. That way, I do not need to move much.”

Only moments ago he had insisted that he is well enough to visit A-Yuan. Now, he is too weak to move on his own, and must have WangJi sit by his side.

WangJi wonders why these brazen tactics, which would be abhorrent in anyone else, are so irresistibly appealing when employed by Wei Ying. He wonders if there is anything about Wei Ying that will ever be unappealing. He is, again, forced to consider the possibility that love makes one unbearably stupid, and that this is precisely why he has already moved to sit down by Wei Ying, without giving the consequences of such action any further thought.

Wei Ying reaches for him again, the moment he has settled on the side of the bed, and WangJi takes his hand carefully, supporting the splinted wrist with his palm.

“You said you would not move.”

“I forgot,” Wei Ying says shamelessly, his fingers warm against WangJi’s pulse.

“You should sleep,” WangJi admonishes.

“I will,” Wei Ying says quickly, “but I have not-- had the chance to speak to you. After-- the Gifting Ceremony.”

His gaze lowers to their joined hands, fingers restless against WangJi skin, despite the fact that even this small movement must pain him.

“A great deal has happened,” he goes on, the words rushed, “There is so much I was not aware of before. About YanLing DaoRen, and his use of resentful energy, and this-- apparent affinity for demonic cultivation present in his descendants. The Lan Sect takes pride in the purity of their cultivation techniques. Over the centuries, they alone have remained unblemished by unorthodox practices.”

He falls silent then, letting WangJi try and make sense of the words on his own. This feels much akin to Wei Ying’s proposal, where WangJi must separate the words, then place them in a different order, just to discern the meaning behind them.

Once he does, however, he feels frustration and fondness flood him in equal measures.

“I still want to marry you, Wei Ying.”

“You--“ Wei Ying shifts, “Are you not worried? This affinity does not bother you?”

“Will you begin practicing demonic cultivation?” WangJi counters.

“What? Of course not!”

“Then it does not matter,” WangJi says firmly.

“How can it not matter?” Wei Ying says, agitated, “YanLing DaoRen nearly destroyed the Empire. He slaughtered thousands. How can you be sure that his madness will not become my own?”

WangJi, prepared to call his assertion utter nonsense that it is, pauses before speaking. It had not occurred to him that Wei Ying would be so throughly rattled by Nie HuaiSang’s revelation.

In retrospect, it seems obvious that this had to have been the purpose of Xue ChengMei’s story. To sow doubts and fears, not just in Wei Ying, but in all those closest to the Emperor. A filthy tactic, meant to cause chaos and uncertainty. It is no wonder that Song ZiChen had demanded no one speak to the boy.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says carefully, “You are not YanLing DaoRen. I am not Lan ZhongYi. We exist under the shadow of those who came before us, and bear the burdens they have placed on our shoulders. But we are not them.”

Wei Ying’s breath stutters, his fingers pressing against WangJi’s wrist.

“But--“

“We spoke of Lan ZhongYi, and the reasons behind his actions. Do you remember what I said to you?”

“My mother did not kill Xu XiaoYun,” Wei Ying says softly.

“And I did not kill the Empress,” WangJi responds.

The words feel much lighter than he had imagined they could be, if ever spoken out loud.

Wei Ying falls silent, a rare enough occurrence where WangJi allows it to happen. There are now dark shadows under his eyes, and it takes a great deal of restraint not to issue another reminder about the necessity for rest, and long, uninterrupted sleep. Perhaps Wei Ying’s stubbornness requires a different type of approach. WangJi is starting to believe that any firm insistence on a specific course of action is more likely to propel Wei Ying in a completely opposite direction. This is something that will require further thought.

“You still want to marry me?” Wei Ying says, the corner of his mouth now slightly lifted, an expression that is not quite serious, but not quite teasing either.

“Yes,” WangJi says, “I still want to marry you.”

Wei Ying grins, shifting a little closer, “Will you allow me to make the announcement? Before the Lan Sect departs?”

WangJi is certain that the events of the last few days have already reached Cloud Recesses. The delay to consult with the Elders seems pointless now, as the rumors of the betrothal have been running rampant since the last Sect Leader meeting. Uncle’s actions, during and after the Gifting Ceremony, must have only served to reinforce these rumors.

It is difficult to decide which course of action will result in greater impropriety. An immediate announcement, or a lengthy delay, during which the entire court will ruthlessly judge his every interaction with the Emperor. The Emperor who is wholly unashamed of expressing his affection, and insists on behaving as if they are already betrothed.

WangJi sighs, “You must obtain uncle’s approval for the announcement.”

“Will you come and visit A-Yuan with me tomorrow?”

WangJi nods. It is a small enough request, and he is fond enough of the child where a visit would not be a chore.

“Will you spend the night?”

“Wei Ying!”

It is unbearable, the sheer number of times Wei Ying can make his face heat in a single day. How can an Emperor be so utterly shameless?

“Ahh, Lan Zhan, do not be angry. I only meant that you should stay in the Imperial chambers. What if I were to fall ill during the night and need assistance?”

Carefully, WangJi places his hand back down, and rises from the bed, “If this is the case, we should summon the Head Healer right now, and request that she spend the night in the Imperial chambers.”

Wei Ying splutters, “Wait-- that--“

“I would not want to take the chance of you falling ill during the night.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, “Why are you so cruel? Can I not ask my future husband to spend the night with me?”

“No, you may not.”

“What if I were to find myself unable to sleep, and in need of company?”

“Summon the Royal Companion. I am sure he will be equal to the task.”

“But--“

WangJi bows deeply, “Good night, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s voice follows him out into the hall, “Hey, Lan Zhan! Wait!”

WangJi closes the door behind him, and turns to the nearest guard, “His Majesty requires the presence of the Royal Companion. And the Head Healer.”

The guard does not question the order.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #wangxian #wei wuxian is whiny #lan wangji is mortified #jiang cheng hates them both #we're gonna check on xue yang next #then find out what nie mingjue has planned #at least one person will die by the last chapter #but they will have deserved it #thank you for all the nice comments guys #ily chickens

177 notes · View notes

gingersnapwolves · 4 years

Text

The Untamed, a brief summary [Part 5/6]

Part One: Sword Wizard School

Part Two: The Search for the Yin Iron and the World’s Worst Summer Camp

Part Three: The Fall of Lotus Pier and the Sunshot Campaign

Part Four: The Downward Spiral

Part Five: Mo Manor, Hungry Sabers, and Yi City

Ext, Mo Manor [I … actually have no idea where this is geographically.]

16 years have passed. A mysterious guy whose face we don’t see sits in an inn while a dude enthusiastically tells stories about the horrible Yiling Patriarch (Wei Wuxian’s title before he died.)

Wei Wuxian wakes up. He is confused, as dead people tend to be upon waking up.

ENTER A MENTALLY ILL CHARACTER WHO DESERVED BETTER

He hears the voice of Mo Xuanyu, telling him that he had no choice but to summon him, and now Wei Wuxian must take revenge for him. He has four curse marks on his arm, one for each target.

A sidebar: in the book, Wei Wuxian is summoned into Mo Xuanyu’s body, which makes way more sense. In the show, however, they didn’t really want to change actors halfway through, which I dig, so he’s in his own body for Reasons Never Made Clear. Because of this, they give him a metal mask to wear, saying Mo Xuanyu was a weirdo who wore a mask all the time and nobody has seen his face in years. We all love Xiao Zhan and don’t want him replaced so we accept this.

ENTER THE DUCKLINGS

Here are two young cultivators from the Lan sect, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi. The former is sweet and kind, the latter is ‘fight me’ in a fun way.

Wei Wuxian has no idea what’s going on but decides it’s time to Cause Problems. He figures out that Mo Xuanyu is yet another one of Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate sons. However, Mo Xuanyu’s mother was a member of the gentry, so he got to study at Koi Tower until he got thrown out for unspecified bad behavior. Everyone says that Mo Xuanyu was a lunatic.

Wei Wuxian meets the Lan ducklings, has flashbacks to Lan Wangji, and decides to hide in his room and play sad music on a blade of grass.

An angry sword spirit shows up and kills a bunch of people. The ducklings call Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian hides before he can be seen. Lan Wangji wraps everything up and subdues the angry sword spirit but doesn’t know what’s going on.

Three of the four curse marks on Wei Wuxian’s arm vanish, indicating that the three members of the Mo family who were killed were three of the four targets of revenge. Wei Wuxian steals a donkey and runs away.

The mystery man from earlier throws a chunk of gold to the storyteller.

Ext, Dafan Mountain [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian argues with his donkey a lot, and it’s pretty funny.

ENTER A TRUST FUND BRAT

Jin Ling is now 16. He is a huge brat and we like him anyway. Given that he was raised mostly by Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng, he’s actually more well-adjusted than he has any right to be. Of course, the bar for ‘well-adjusted’ in this show is sitting on the ground (and half the characters have gone to get shovels). Jin Ling has set up a bunch of spirit capture nets in the forest, and they capture a bunch of cultivators instead. Wei Wuxian cuts them down, and he and Jin Ling get in a fight. (Wei Wuxian doesn’t know who he is, because why would he?)

Wei Wuxian calls him a little punk and pins him to the ground with a talisman. Jiang Cheng shows up and is pissed. Wei Wuxian runs away again.

Turns out everyone is there for some sort of night hunt. Lan Wangji and the ducklings show up. Lan Wangji is a petty bitch who no longer speaks to Jiang Cheng, and it’s great. He’s destroyed all the spirit nets Jin Ling placed for pretty much no reason other than that he can. Jin Ling is pissed. Lan Wangji puts the silencing spell on him because he’s being a brat. Jiang Cheng decides this isn’t worth getting into a bitch fight with Lan Wangji over and huffs off with Jin Ling.

They all end up at the mountain where the statue from the first arc was. It’s eating people again, or something like that. Wei Wuxian talks to the ducklings, who listen to him because he helped them with the sword spirit at Mo Manor.

The statue attacks, and it’s chaos! Wei Wuxian decides that now is the time for some demonic cultivation. He starts playing a new flute (poorly, because he just carved it out of nearby bamboo). Wen Ning shows up. Everyone, including me, goes “WTF?!?!” because we all thought Wen Ning had been destroyed by the Jin sect.

Wei Wuxian realizes this is more trouble than he can handle and uses his flute to get Wen Ning to leave. But it’s too late. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng have seen him. Lan Wangji grabs his wrist. They stare at each other for like a solid 30 seconds and it’s great.

Then Jiang Cheng ruins everything, because he assumes (correctly) that someone playing the flute and controlling Wen Ning is, in fact, Wei Wuxian. He hits Wei Wuxian with the lightning whip. A fun feature of the lightning whip is that, if an evil spirit is possessing someone, the whip will smack them out of the body. This doesn’t happen to Wei Wuxian, since he was summoned by Mo Xuanyu himself. Jiang Cheng gets a little confused by this and Lan Wangji takes the opportunity to grab Wei Wuxian and bounce.

Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Wei Wuxian wakes up in Lan Wangji’s room. He says, ‘if I said I didn’t know where I was these past 16 years, would you believe me?’ and Lan Wangji says ‘yes’ without hesitation. I cry again.

Ext, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Lan Wangji is down in the cold springs. Wei Wuxian decides, like a gremlin, to go bug him there. But he sees Lan Wangji shirtless and he’s got a bunch of scars and it freaks Wei Wuxian out so he doesn’t hit on him.

Lan Qiren has been trying to suppress the sword spirit but it attacks him. Wei Wuxian plays his flute (badly) and the ducklings all wonder why the hell he’s even here. They figure out the sword spirit is trying to lead them somewhere.

Ext, Yueyang [Qinghe]

The sword has pointed them here and strange things are afoot. Wei Wuxian asks a guy if there’s some reason the sect leader isn’t taking care of it. He finds out that Nie Mingjue died in the intervening years while he was gone, and that Nie Huaisang is now sect leader and keeps telling people to please not ask him to fix problems because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Nie Huaisang remains the most relatable.

They run into Jin Ling, who’s there with his adorable dog for night-hunting reasons. Wei Wuxian freaks out because he’s afraid of dogs. Lan Wangji leaps in to defend him and Jin Ling looks like he just found out gay people exist.

Ext, the forest [Qinghe]

There’s a weird tomb full of coffins with sabers in them. Jin Ling has broken in and nearly gets swallowed by the building. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian rescue him. He now has a gnarly curse mark on his leg. When they get outside, someone’s been watching them. Lan Wangji goes after him while Wei Wuxian gets Jin Ling back to the city. Lan Wangji only gets a scrap of fabric but recognizes the pattern.

Int, an inn [Qinghe]

Jin Ling freaks out when he wakes up because he thinks Mo Xuanyu is nuts. (One must presume he knows Mo Xuanyu better than the ducklings, since Mo Xuanyu is technically his uncle, and Jin Ling lives at Koi Tower a lot of the time so they would have encountered each other.) Wei Wuxian lets him go.

Int, a different inn [presumably] [Qinghe]

Lan Wangji has dragged Nie Huaisang in for a little chat, because he knows Nie Huaisang was spying on them in the forest. Nie Huaisang tries to plead ignorance but then admits that the Nie sect has this problem where their swords are so bloodthirsty that they have to be buried like people and fed criminals occasionally, like one would if they had a particularly large python for a pet. Wei Wuxian clearly wonders how, in that case, they had any right to criticize him for a little light necromancy.

Ext, Yueyang [Qinghe]

Lan Wangji leaves to … shit. I don’t remember. Well, he goes to do something, presumably important, leaving Wei Wuxian on his own. Wei Wuxian promptly gets spotted by Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling, and Jiang Cheng captures him. He says he doesn’t care that the lightning whip didn’t expel him, he knows he’s Wei Wuxian. He’s super pissed but doesn’t actually kill Wei Wuxian or even really hurt him, clearly conflicted about the whole situation.

Jin Ling suddenly ‘remembers’ important information about something that happened earlier to send Jiang Cheng on a wild goose chase. It’s likely that Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually believe this but he leaves anyway. Jin Ling sneaks Wei Wuxian out. Wei Wuxian tells him he’ll be in trouble because Jiang Cheng thinks he’s the Yiling Patriarch. Jin Ling scoffs because Jiang Cheng is always finding ‘Yiling Patriarchs’ in an ongoing search to find his brother.

Once in the forest, Wei Wuxian knocks Jin Ling out. He then transfers the curse mark from Jin Ling to himself because sixteen years of being dead didn’t teach him any self-preservation skills at all.

Int, the spirit-eating saber tomb [Qinghe]

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian bring the sword spirit to the tomb. It tells them they did a good job and then points them somewhere else, like some sort of spiritual scavenger hunt or an extremely intense game of Where in the World is Carmen San Diego. They theorize that the sword spirit is probably Baxia, Nie Mingjue’s sword, and it’s trying to lead them to wherever his body is. Nie Huaisang looks pretty upset about this, which seems reasonable. Our heroes promise him they’ll figure out what’s going on and return his brother’s body to him if possible.

Lan Wangji gives Wei Wuxian more details on Nie Mingjue’s death. The Nie sect has a history of ‘qi deviation’, which is sort of like a magical backlash. This is, they now figure, likely due to struggling to control these violent saber spirits. Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were both working to try to help Nie Mingjue avoid qi deviation but failed, and he had a violent fit, ran away, and was never seen again.

Ext, Yueyang [Qinghe]

Continuing in the vein of ‘shit, a lot happened while you were dead’, Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that Xue Yang turned up a little while afterwards and Jin Guangshan made him a member of the Jin sect. Nie Mingjue wanted him executed for the murder of the Chang clan, but the lone survivor suddenly recanted his testimony, and not long after that, Nie Mingjue died/went missing. Xue Yang ended up in a pretty good spot. Wei Wuxian basically says ‘what a world’ and Lan Wangji takes his drink and knocks it back.

By the way, Jin Guangshan is now dead too, having died ‘in bed’ a little while after Nie Mingjue disappeared. I can’t remember when Wei Wuxian finds that out. But good riddance anyway.

Now drunk after one shot, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a touching moment or twelve. Lan Wangji admits that he regrets not helping Wei Wuxian in his last life, and Wei Wuxian tells him not to worry about it. After Lan Wangji falls asleep, Wei Wuxian goes outside and uses his new flute (which Lan Wangji has fixed up a bit) to summon Wen Ning. He finds that they’ve put nails in his head to suppress his consciousness, and removes them. They reunite and it’s emotional.

But before much can happen, Lan Wangji wanders drunkenly from the inn. Wen Ning goes to hide, and Wei Wuxian ends up babysitting drunk Lan Wangji again and it’s hilarious. Drunk Lan Wangji tries to steal chickens for him and also graffitis a random house.

When they get back to the inn, a masked man shows up and tries to steal the sword spirit. Even black-out drunk, Lan Wangji beats him, but he seems to have inside knowledge of the Lan sect fighting style. Then he uses a teleportation talisman, which hardly anybody has the skill to use.

Ext, Yi City [Hell, as far as I can tell]

Listen. I’m going to be honest with y’all again. This arc messed me up. I have no desire to revisit it in detail and it virtually never comes up in my fics. So I’m going to be very, very brief here.

Xue Yang tricked Xiao Xingchen into killing a bunch of innocent people, including Song Lan, who is now a fierce corpse under Xue Yang’s control. Xiao Xingchen found out what happened and killed himself. Xue Yang freaked out because he either a) actually loved Xiao Xingchen in his own messed up way, or b) was having a tantrum like a little kid who broke their favorite toy by playing too rough with it. Your mileage may vary and a thousand fanfics have been written about this issue. Since then, he’s been hanging out in Yi City, which is full of dead people and poison.

The really important part is that Xue Yang has been using yin iron to do all this stuff.

The ducklings followed a bunch of clues here, along with Jin Ling. Wei Wuxian herds them around while Lan Wangji fights Xue Yang and eventually kills him. The same masked man shows up, grabs the yin iron off Xue Yang’s dead body, and teleports again.

They find a headless body in a coffin underneath Xiao Xingchen’s, and the sword spirit reveals itself to be Baxia, indicating that it is indeed Nie Mingjue. Song Lan, now released from Xue Yang’s control, takes Xiao Xingchen’s sword and a spirit pouch with his fragmented soul and goes to be a wandering cultivator. It’s really depressing.

Ext, some city [I don’t remember]

Everyone’s kind of shell-shocked by the fuckery that was Yi City, so they’re trying to chill out. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a tender moment watching the juniors shopping. Wei Wuxian says, ‘If A-Yuan had lived, he’d be about their age now.’ Lan Wangji looks at him like he just realized he left the stove on. Meanwhile Lan Sizhui is fascinated by a stand selling toys just like ones Wen Yuan had at the Burial Mounds. Hm …

Lan Xichen has arrived. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji show him Baxia and he’s really sad since he and Nie Mingjue were bros. Wei Wuxian (still pretending to be Mo Xuanyu) says that at this point, they know whoever killed Nie Mingjue and hid his body is a) friends with Xue Yang, and b) familiar with the Lan sect fighting style. He points out that this sounds a lot like Jin Guangyao, who had a ‘complicated history’ with Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen says it can’t be Jin Guangyao, because Jin Guangyao has been with him every night talking about important matters for the last week or so. Also, the use of the teleportation talisman has a negative effect on one’s health and he can personally attest that Jin Guangyao shows no signs of having used it. Another two thousand fanfics spring into existence.

At the end of the conversation, he calls Wei Wuxian by his name. Wei Wuxian takes off his mask and says ‘Damn, I should’ve known I couldn’t fool you.’ Lan Xichen pulls that whole ‘oh I didn’t actually know until you confirmed it just now’ trick but let’s be real there is absolutely no idea Lan Xichen didn’t already know, given that his brother has only ever tolerated one (1) person in his entire life.

Int, the inn [wherever they are]

The ducklings are fighting, mostly because Jin Ling is mad that Lan Sizhui said something halfway complimentary about Wei Wuxian, who he hates for killing his father (and causing his mother’s death). The other ducklings are like “bro, chill”. Jin Ling will not chill. Jin Ling will NEVER chill. Wei Wuxian is sad because his nephew hates him.

Lan Sizhui tries to explain that he only meant maybe they should have all the facts before they condemn someone. Jin Ling continues to not be chill. Lan Wangji buys Wei Wuxian some booze to cheer him up.

Despite Lan Xichen’s words, they’re still convinced Jin Guangyao is involved, and make plans to go to Koi Tower and look for Nie Mingjue’s head. Lan Xichen comes back in and tells them he’s thought about it and if they find evidence, they should bring it to him. They agree.

~end of part 5~

#gonna try and finish this up this weekend!#liveblog #the untamed

54 notes · View notes

lotusjwy · 4 years

Note

"Just leave me ALONE" for Xicheng? Preferably if LXC says it JC? Preferably in public or in front of wangxian and the juniors ? E.g. JC is the only one, who notices LXC is having a bad day and he more or less subtlely tries to get him to talk ? But LXC tries to be fine cause he is out of seclusion so he can't still have bad days'?

But if you have another idea do that! no pressure ! Thanks in advance !

hello there, the way this is so specific has been killing me for DAYS 😂 I had to send screenshots to my friend bc of how specific it is dude, like I love that you know exactly what you want bc it makes my brain not have to work as hard, but BRO dskjfhkasd why do u like to see my boy suffer So much 😭😭😭

i hope this lives up to ur expectations!!! 🥰

It had been a long day. A long and tiring day, so if he lost his temper, he couldn’t be blamed, right? He just wanted to go back home and play the flute, perhaps sleep a little, but he was absolutely done with spending time with everyone else. So, why did he find himself still in the company of so many people? Why was he still sitting here with Wangji, Wei Wuxian, Jiang Wanyin and a handful of juniors? Why?

This was all Wei Wuxian’s fault, he was the one that insisted everyone spend more time together. Xichen already saw plenty of Wei Wuxian, Wangji, Sizhui and Jingyi, as well as often seeing Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, due to sect business. If anything, the only person here that Lan Xichen rarely saw was Ouyang Zizhen, and it wasn’t as if he’d spent much of the day speaking to him.

Jiang Wanyin had taken it upon himself to seat himself down next to Lan Xichen, talking to him, hoping that he could get to the root of why the other had been acting differently. “You’ve been quiet all day, which is completely fine, I get that. Sometimes everyone is a bit too much to handle, but Wei Wuxian insists on family bonding, whatever the fuck that me-”

And he just would not stop talking, he’d been talking for so long, all day, when would he stop. “Just leave me alone. You keep speaking to me as if I’ve shown any indication that I wish to continue this conversation. You’re quick to call Wei Wuxian a chatterbox and an annoyance, yet have you ever looked inward?!” When he was met with a stunned silence, he realised something was incredibly wrong.

Oh. Oh no. He had said that out loud, hadn’t he? Well, he couldn’t take it back now, and he had wanted to be left alone. It wasn’t his fault Jiang Wanyin wasn’t taking the hint. Xichen did feel a little bad, when he saw the hurt expression on lJiang Cheng’s face, that abruptly was wiped from his face, only to be replaced by a blank face.

“Apologies, Zewu-jun. I appear to have overstepped.” He stood and gave the other a stiff bow, before leaving the room, not looking or speaking to anyone, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

Wei Wuxian stood awkwardly after his brother had left the room, wanting to follow him out, but knowing that the other probably wanted to be alone right now. He also knew that he shouldn’t be the one going to ensure he was okay, “Xichen-ge…”

“I am aware, no need to scold me.” Lan Xichen’s voice was terse, knowing that everyone in the room was staring at him in shock, possibly all wanting to scold him for his behaviour.

“Jiujiu was only trying to make sure that you were okay. Talking helps sometimes, you know. He rarely reaches out to people like that, but he did to you.” Everyone here knew his uncle’s temper, just as well as they knew how much he cared, if anyone here didn’t know that, then they shouldn’t be here. They didn’t belong here.

Lan Sizhui put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Jin Ling, should you be saying this here?” He knew that Jin Ling was cross with Zewu-jun, but he didn’t want the other saying anything that he may regret later on.

“It’s nothing everyone here doesn’t already know about him.” He scoffed out, his voice dripping with disdain towards Sect Leader Lan. How dare he take his uncle’s kindness for granted.

Xichen tuned out the remainder of the conversation, thinking about the mess he had put himself in. It wasn’t that he disliked Jiang Wanyin, quite the opposite actually, and yet here he was near yelling at him in front all of their friends and family. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stuck in his thoughts before he realised that he was being spoken to by Jin Rulan again.

“Well? Are you just going to sit here and wallow in your stupid misery, or are you going to go apologise?” There was a fiercely protective look in the younger’s eyes, showing that he’d physically fight the other, even if it meant losing, for his uncle’s honour.

“Jin Ling!” Wei Wuxian sent a sharp look to the younger, inwardly cursing that Jin Ling seemed to have inherited his mother’s fierce protective nature. He felt the same, but he also had the sense of knowing that saying everything you felt could backfire on you within seconds.

“Don’t get mad at me for being mad at him! He was being an assh-” the rest of whatever he was going to say being smothered by Lan Jingyi’s hand, which was conveniently blocking any other derogatory words that Jin Ling may want to speak.

“Alright, alright, young mistress, it’s okay. Let’s calm down now. He’ll go apologise now.” Lan Jingyi gave his sect leader a pointed look, as if telling him that if he didn’t leave to go find Sect Leader Jiang right now, then he would release his friend and let him unleash his full anger at him.

With a stiff nod, Lan Xichen left towards the direction Jiang Wanyin had stalked off to. He found the other leaning on a tree, staring up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought. He slowly approached the other, contemplating how to best bring attention to himself.

“I-” He jumped slightly, when he was cut off, not realising that Jiang Cheng had even noticed him approaching.

“Save it. No need to apologise, I know you were bullied out here.” His voice blunt and to the point, void of any emotion, as if he were trying to protect himself.

Xichen was stunned silent, not knowing how to respond to that. He had been told to come apologise, so it wasn’t as if he could refute that. “Oh.”

Jiang Cheng sighed and shook his head. He had guessed that his nephew and brother had made the other come out here and apologise, but he was hoping that Lan Xichen had wanted to come out on his own accord. Evidently not. And why should he? It’s not as if Jiang Cheng was someone that was important to Lan Xichen. All he’d done was annoy him today.

Lan Xichen walked closer to the other, offering him an apologetic look, “whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

“I find that hard to believe.” How could he be wrong, when all signs pointed to his conclusions? He’d been annoying, when he hadn’t intended to be. He’d been compared to Wei Wuxian of all people.

“I’m sorry.”

And for what it was worth, he did sound very apologetic, but Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to believe it. “I said save it.”

“You did. However, I do genuinely mean it.” Xichen looked at the other, focusing on how the other was mindlessly fidgeting with Zidian. I’m making him uncomfortable. “I was told to come out and find you, yes, but I would have apologised on my own. I wouldn’t have left it li-”

“Don’t worry, Sect Leader Lan, I won’t let this hinder our sect relations. I’m not so petty so as to do anything that was affect either of our sects, for a personal matter.” Jiang Cheng cut off Lan Xichen, yet again, seemingly realising why the other had gone out of his way to come out to apologise.

“That’s not-” Lan Xichen was beginning to grow very sick of being cut off midsentence.

“I won’t interfere with any of the trade agreements we have existing already, nor any that we may broker in the future.” Jiang Cheng was rambling now, thinking of anything he could, to ensure Lan Xichen that he didn’t want their sects to fall out with each other. “Oh, we were discussing having our junior disciples have an excha-”

“Would you shut up?” If the other would just stop sprouting out useless information, this conversation could end less painfully than it needs to be, instead Jiang Wanyin seemed to want to draw it out.

Jiang Cheng blinked in shock, his mouth falling open. That was the second time he’d made Lan Xichen burst out in anger like that. Wow, he must really hate me.

“If you would just let me speak! I do not dislike you, nor do I think that this should affect our sects standings with each other.” Xichen’s voice was strained, as he struggled to keep his frustrations with Jiang Wanyin at bay.

Jiang Cheng simply nodded in response, “of course not.”

“You don’t believe me.” Disbelief coating his voice, he stared at the other with narrowed eyes.

“I…” he struggled to find a way to word this, without being insulting or rude, “I believe that you do not wish this to affect our sect standings. Nor do I.”

“But you believe that I dislike you.” He put it bluntly, not enjoying the circles they were seeming to go in this conversation.

With a shrug, he nodded. There wasn’t much else he could say on it, it’s not as if he could make his own beliefs go away with the snap of a finger.

“And nothing I say could convince you otherwise?” Xichen was close to losing it at the other again, not knowing how to change the direction of this conversation. “Not even our past relationship with each other, prior to this evening?”

“Sect Leader Lan is a kind man. He gives chances to those who do not deserve them. I simply overstepped my boundaries tonight.” Jiang Cheng was looking up at the moon, his voice void of any emotion as he spoke.

With a sigh, Lan Xichen moved to stand in front of the other, needing to capture his attention somehow. “And sometimes he simply has bad days, that have nothing to do with those around him.” He said it lightly, but his face showed that he was being serious. It really had been a bad day that had come an unfortunate end.

“But I didn’t help.”

“No, you didn’t. But I should have verbalised that, instead of ignored you.” Thinking about it for a moment, he added on something else, “which is why you kept speaking to me. Other times your company and conversation has kept me from my bad days, it was only safe for you to believe that it would be okay today. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Hmm.” He only hummed in response, as if he didn’t want to accept that he played no fault in the situation.

“I don’t know what else I can do to convince you otherwise. I promise you that we are okay. As long as you can forgive me for speaking to you like that.” Right. Apologising was what he’d come out here to do in the first place.

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes and looked at the other incredulously, “of course I forgive you, I was being fucking annoying and sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”

Lan Xichen shook his head almost immediately, “I’d argue out of everyone we’ve been with today, it is a place where you are welcome to stick your nose into. I should have communicated that I wanted silence, it wasn’t your fault.”

When Jiang Cheng didn’t respond, Xichen sighed and nodded, “fine, I can see that this will take some time to move past. But can we do that? Forget about tonight, learn to better communicate with each other? A relationship wouldn’t be possible otherwise.” He quickly turned away from the other, choosing to stare up at the sky, instead of seeing the disbelief on Jiang Cheng’s face at what he had just said. He had more or less confessed his feelings.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in shock as he processed what he had just heard, his cheeks beginning to burn at the implications. He coughed into his fist, “uh, yes. We can do that.”

75 notes · View notes

djinmer4 · 4 years

Text

Matchmaking for the Greater Evil (4/4)

Jiang Cheng waited four months, two AWOL Cultivation Conferences, one missed visit, and entirely too many unanswered letters before he hopped on Sandu and flew to Qinghe. Truly, it was a remarkable exercise in patience. He sent no letter and brought no retinue but even so, the Nie retainers let him in without even an aside glance, directing him to the usual location and letting him navigate the familiar halls sans a single guard. The same way the Jiang retainers would allow Huaisang to wander Lotus Pier alone.

He paused at the door to Huaisang’s office, the familiar rush of pride filling him. He was pretty much the only person outside of the Unclean Realm who even knew that Huaisang had an office and that he even used it for its intended purpose. Unfortunately, the tide of positive emotion ebbed away. Wanyin had seen, had been allowed to see more than others but it still hadn’t been enough. Pride souring into the usual feelings of failure, he kicked the door open and shouted, “Just because he was a rat, doesn’t mean you have to turn into a turtle!”

Fuck, that wasn’t how he had meant to start this conversation! Jiang Cheng felt the heat rush to his face and was sure he was as red as a brick.

Huaisang looked up, dark eyes wide and face slack with confusion. After a second, he waved his fan to the cushion in front of his desk. Jiang Cheng gladly slumped to his knees, trying to reorganize his thoughts. His friend waited patiently while Wanyin tried to remember the speech he had prepared earlier. Giving up, he at least tried to remember the one he had given his nephew. “What I meant to say was, it’s okay if you’re mourning him. He was a bastard-” Huaisang narrowed his eyes, and he backtracked. “He was a treacherous snake, but you were friends once. Even after he killed your brother, he still cared for you. It’s alright to miss that.”

“I don’t miss him.”

“Are you sure about that? You did the exact same thing after Mingjue died, holing up in Qinghe and not seeing anyone.”

“I don’t miss him. I may have missed Meng Yao a bit, but I don’t miss Jin Guangyao. And I finished my mourning for Meng Yao a long time ago.” The older man put down his brush and resumed fanning himself lazily. “You know, this isn’t how I anticipated this conversation going.”

“What did you expect then?”

He lifted the fan in front of his face, only letting his eyes show above the blades. “More screaming?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “I did most of my screaming in my letters.”

“So I read. But perhaps you have questions?”

Satisfied that the other wasn’t going to seclude himself any longer, Wanyin relaxed and shifted so that he could sprawl out in front of Sect Leader Nie’s desk. “I’m not an idiot. I may not be as smart as you or Wei Wuxian but I heard enough to put things together without needing to have it spelled out.”

The fan lowered and a smile drifted across the other’s face. “What about Lan Wangji?”

“I’m absolutely smarter than him,” he scoffed. “I knew that Wei Wuxian was back almost immediately.”

“Of course, of course, forgive my doubt. But really, not even one question? What about . . . “ Huaisang’s eyes drifted above their heads to a corner of the room. “Jin Rulan?”

“I’m pretty sure if you had intended to kill my nephew he’d already be dead by now and I’d be at war with someone else. Possibly Jin Guangyao.”

Huaisang’s nose wrinkled adorably as he frowned. “That’s true. Jin Ling wasn’t even supposed to be there, but no matter what happened he inevitably showed up and you almost always followed. I felt like tearing my hair out trying to compensate for the two of you.” He glanced up. “Wei Wuxian?”

“As if you were going to resurrect a different demonic cultivator to be your investigator. Wei Wuxian’s a walking force of chaos and your friend, it only makes sense you’d want his help in uncovering the Chief Cultivator’s crimes.”

“I’m not so sure we’re still friends,” he said under his breath. “Mo Xuanyu?”

“I didn’t remember Mo Xuanyu even existed until Jin Ling reminded me on Dafan Mountain so why the fuck would I care about him?”

“You’re so mean, Jiang-xiong. Still,” he snapped his fan shut. “If you’re not here to yell about my underhanded methods or to ask questions, why did you come?”

“Now you really are being an idiot. I’m here to support you.”

For a few moments, there was silence, broken only by the birds twittering in the garden behind the office. When Huaisang resumed speaking, his voice was very soft. “I always knew you had a soft spot for me.”

“Don't act like you haven’t known for years that I’ve been in love with you.”

“I knew. I expected you to give up a long time ago. Never did figure out why you never moved on.”

“I thought . . . I knew you had to have a reason for acting the way you did. You were too smart not to realize what was going on. If you didn’t want anything to do with me in that way, I was sure you would have just rejected me outright. But the fact you never pushed me away beyond those first few years after your brother died made me think that you had a reason you couldn’t say yes. I was certain of that after you gave me that cloak.” Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Admittedly, I didn’t think ten-year revenge murder plot was it, but in hindsight it now makes sense.”

“I knew that cloak was a mistake,” he muttered to himself. “So what did you think I was waiting for all those years?”

“I thought you were waiting to get married.”

Huaisang gaped at him. “Wait, what? You thought I was waiting to get married to accept your courting offers? Please tell me how that works because that explanation is completely ridiculous.”

“It’s a reasonable conclusion! We both know you care about your sect more than your reputation suggests and you don’t have an heir yet. It makes sense that you’d want to focus on getting one before allowing yourself to follow your heart. It’s what I tried to do after all.”

“So you mean . . . the blacklisting wasn’t on purpose?”

“Why the fuck would you think I did that on purpose?”

“No reason at all!” He fidgeted with his brush a little then put it back again. “In any case, I do in fact have an heir already.”

Jiang Cheng frowned. “Who? I’d know if you had any children.”

“Not a child. Nie Zhenzheng, my second-in-command. Also my cousin. He’s got three kids already.”

“Isn’t he the one who’s always harping on you to get married?”

“Yes, that one. He says he went from being a comfortable fourth in line with two healthy cousins and an older brother who were all capable of having children, to second with only a cut-sleeve between him and the throne. He’s rather desperate to get more buffers between him and the position of Sect Leader, but that’s part of the reason I trust him as second-in-command.”

Wanyin nodded. It was pretty clear why Huaisang would prefer an heir and vice who wasn’t ambitious but still competent. “So do you have any other grand, overarching plans that need to be accomplished?” He reached out to take the older man’s free hand.

“Not . . . really? I’ve got ideas about how to deal with the Nie Sect’s qi deviation problem that I’m planning on focusing on. I always knew I would need a goal to pursue after I got my revenge.” He looked down at their intertwined hands. “Jiang-xiong, Wanyin, are you sure about what you’re asking?”

“Why not? We like each other, neither of us is planning to get married, you’ve accomplished your goal. Unless there’s something else I don’t know about?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Huaisang sighed but didn’t pull away. “What do you want out of this? There are things, there will always be things I won’t be able to give you because of our positions. I’ll never be fully honest with you. Even without having to hide from Jin Guangyao, there are things pertaining to the Nie sect that I will never tell you. You’ll always come second to that. I can’t even say I’ll never hurt you because there will probably be times when Qinghe and Yunmeng will clash. What could I possibly give you that would not be better served elsewhere?”

“I already know all that; I’ve thought about this for years and I’m willing to deal with those things. I’m not asking you to be completely honest with me or to put me above your sect. I won’t be completely honest with you either, that’s just what it means when two Sect Leaders get together. As for not harming each other . . . “ He grimaced and felt heat flood his face. “At the last Cultivator Conference before everything went down, I called you a ‘witless coward’. I’d be losing more face than I can stand if I took you to task over that. I know better and you don’t care much but I know there are times when I hurt you.”

The other hummed a little in agreement. “You do tend to let your temper get away from you. But on the other hand, you did apologize later that evening. You always apologize to me and you don’t even apologize to Jin Ling!”

“Yes, I’m working on that. But as for what I want . . . A-Sang, what I want is to know more of you. There are parts of yourself that you won’t share with anyone and there are parts of yourself that you’ll share with people who aren’t me. But I want to be certain that I know more of you than anyone else. But this isn’t just about me. What do you want out of a relationship?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly pursed like a doll, Huaisang looked so adorably confused that Jiang Cheng couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on the hand in his grasp. “What I want . . .” he sighed but still didn’t separate their hands. “The problem is I don’t know what I want. I never thought about having a relationship. I had my plan for Jin Guangyao, I had contingencies set-up for Zhenzheng in case I died in the process, and I had goals set up if I survived. I have my sect, my birds, and my porn. The possibility of getting a cultivation partner didn’t even occur to me.”

“Ouch, was I really so easily dismissed?”

“That’s not what I meant, just that I never allowed myself that kind of hope. I can’t tell you what I want because it’s going to take time and a lot of reflection before I even have a clue.”

“I can wait. Hell, I’ve waited eight years already, what’s a couple more?”

“Even if it turns out that I don’t want you?”

“Does Heaven truly bar the way?”

Huaisang’s eyes drifted and Wanyin knew by memory what he was looking at. The books they had exchanged, the incense burner filed with the coils Jiang Cheng had sent him. The large painting of Lotus Pier across from the bookcase and had taken the Nie Sect Leader two entire trips to finish. The gash in the wall when Jiang Cheng had gotten drunk and had tried to demonstrate how he had taken down a demon to the other man. The office was filled with mementos of their years of friendship. Jiang Cheng promised himself that he would make this work.

Huaisang smiled. It wasn’t the one he used outside of the Unclean Realm, tremulous and ingratiating. This was warmer and more confident, his eyes seemed to glow and there was no shaking anywhere to be seen. “No, I don’t think it does.” And for the first time, Jiang Cheng stopped second-guessing himself and kissed that smile the way he always wanted to.

#sangcheng #mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #IT'S DONE IT'S FINALLY DONE #post-canon

26 notes · View notes

ticklygiggles · 4 years

Text

A little warmer | Nie Brothers

This is NOT a ship fic.

A/N: This one took me longer than I expected, but it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy it, Anon! Thank you for requesting some fluff for these angsty brothers!

Summary: Nie MingJue is a little drunk, Nie HuaiSang is a little silly and they actually enjoy each other’s company very much.

Words: 2006

There were times, (very rare times), when Nie MingJue allowed Nie HuaiSang to share a drink with him after being the feared Sect Leader and the strict older brother that was after Nie HuaiSang’s throat.

Those times were Nie HuaiSang’s favorite. He felt like he could forget about many things, like the fact that he was extremely awful at using his saber, the fact that his cultivation was far behind and weaker than a ten-year-old, and that, probably, his mere existence was an inconvenience to Nie MingJue - yes, those things didn’t matter when he was just pouring liquor into his big brother’s cup over and over as he heard him talking, his tongue lazy, dragging his word as he recalled the events of the day and vented to Nie HuaiSang.

“How is cultivation going?” Nie MingJue asked after he talked about how angry he felt every time he saw Jin GuangYao’s face. “I haven’t seen you practice when I’m around.”

Nie HuaiSang winced, almost dropping the liquor bottle when he placed it back on top of the table.

“W-Well… D-Da-ge, you’ll see…” He started, fidgeting with the fan on his lap. “I’ve been kind of b-busy lately…”

Nie MingJue laughed, he actually laughed as he looked at Nie HuaiSang with slightly droopy eyes. “Busy with what, you rascal? You dare to lie to your Da-ge?”

Nie HuaiSang shook his head rapidly. The fear within his chest was just like a little flame, instead of the fire that usually grew whenever he talked with Nie MingJue.

“I’m not! It’s just… I’ve been doing this and that…"

Nie MingJue chuckled, shaking his head a little as he took a sip from his cup. "Yes, of course, this and that both sound extremely important,” Nie MingJue mocked, suddenly reaching for Nie HuaiSang’s arm.

Nie HuaiSang shrieked when he felt Nie MingJue’s hand grasping his arm, right above the elbow, and pulling at him.

“Da-ge! Ack!” A strong arm wrapped around his neck and if he wanted to say something else, he couldn’t as Nie MingJue pressed Nie HuaiSang’s face against his broad chest. “Da-ge!” Nie HuaiSang squeaked, trying to break free and whining loudly when he felt Nie MingJue’s knuckles rubbing roughly against his scalp. “It hurts! Da-ge, please!”

“You little shit,” Nie MingJue said and Nie HuaiSang could hear a smile in his voice. “I don’t know how to make you have common sense anymore!”

Nie HuaiSang cried when he felt those knuckles digging more into his scalp. “Da-ge! I’m sorry! Aaah!"

Nie MingJue’s chest only grumbled with another of his chuckles and Nie HuaiSang whined again. He grabbed his brother’s sides and tried to push him away, but it was stupid of him to think that he could actually move Nie MingJue away with just a few pushes, but heavens! His scalp was starting to burn and he cried again.

And then, sudden thought assaulted his mind. Some kind of memory and a risky strategy, but his brain was starting to hurt, so he simply placed his hands right under Nie MingJue’s rib cage, giving a few squeezes.

Nie MingJue tensed and growled, trying to fight back the bubbly laughter wanting to pour out of his mouth. "Stop that!” He said and pressed Nie HuaiSang harder against his chest.

“Let me go first!” Nie HuaiSang cried, his slender fingers vibrating against that tender muscle. He felt Nie MingJue’s arms trembling a little and the hand torturing his head had come to a stop.

“HuaiSang!” Nie MingJue said with a high pitched voice. “I s-swear- ahahaha!” Finally, a bark of loud laughter poured out of Nie MingJue’s mouth and he let go of Nie HuaiSang.

As soon as he was freed, Nie HuaiSang also let go of his brother’s rib cage and he staggered back, soothing his hand over his sore head and seeing how Nie MingJue wrapped an arm around his middle, right where Nie HuaiSang’s hands were just a moment ago.

Nie HuaiSang was a bit taken aback to see that big smile on his brother’s face - it was not teasy, but almost childish and highly playful and Nie HuaiSang dared to think that Nie MingJue was… having fun?

“Do you think you can win against me, Nie HuaiSang?” Nie HuaiSang widened his eyes when Nie MingJue seemed to recover and he shook his head. “I see, this is how you want to play, huh?"

"No! No, Da-ge!” Nie HuaiSang begged, letting out a squeak when Nie MingJue launched at him, pushing him against the wooden floor. “No! Da-ge, listen! Lihihahahaha! Plehehehease no!”

Nie HuaiSang would never understand how his big brother’s fingers were so gentle and soft when tickling, instead of rough like… The rest of him. It drove Nie HuaiSang crazy.

“Please no what, HuaiSang?” He asked, but Nie HuaiSang could only giggle like a kid as Nie MingJue squeezed up and down his sides, latching on to a certain spot right above Nie HuaiSang’s waist that made him shriek and laugh a little harder.

“Nohohohot tihihihickling!” He pleaded, kicking his legs and trying to squirm away.

“What? I thought you liked being tickled?” Nie MingJue teased and something sparked inside Nie HuaiSang’s head: a tiny version of himself asking a tiny version of Nie MingJue to tickle him?!

His cheeks turned bright red and he shook his head desperately.

“No! Thahahat’s not it!”

“What do you mean? I do remember you annoying me all around, asking me to tickle you!” Nie MingJue said, moving his hands up to tickle along Nie HuaiSang’s ribs.

Nie HuaiSang arched his back off the floor and he tried to roll on his stomach to crawl away from his mean brother. He thought he never felt his ears blushing before, but they definitely were blushing right now as the memories of a very far away childhood rushed back at him

So, as he laughed loudly when Nie MingJue clawed against the sides of his ribs, he saw himself bugging Nie MingJue over and over, trying to coax him to tickle him when his big brother was not busy practicing his cultivation.

That was a lifetime ago and he had definitely forgotten about it growing up, but now that Nie MingJue’s drunken mind had brought it back, Nie HuaiSang didn’t know where to hide his face!

“Ah, maybe this is a nice punishment for you?” Nie MingJue teased, moving his hands from Nie HuaiSang’s ribs down to his hips. “But I guess, if you enjoy it, it is not a punishment, hmmm?”

“Ohohoho m-my gohohohoodness!” Nie HuaiSang cried, bucking his hips and doing a ridiculous dance to try and dislodge Nie MingJue’s fingers from his hip bones. “Dahahaha-ge! Thahahat w-wahahas in th-the pahahahast!"

"Don’t be silly, I’m sure you still love it,” he cooed and Nie HuaiSang could only shake his head as he squirmed desperately.

This whole situation was probably his fault, but he never thought Nie MingJue would actually attack him back! Even reminding him about his very embarrassing past as he destroyed every sensitive spot his drunk head could remember.

“Da-gehehehe! I’m s-sohohohorry!” Nie HuaiSang squealed, trying to push Nie MingJue’s hands away from his body. “Dohohon’t do thihihis!"

"Where was that spot again, HuaiSang?” Nie MingJue asked and Nie HuaiSang shook his head. “Ah, right here, right?”

“No! NOHOHO!” Nie HuaiSang shrieked as soon as Nie MingJue’s fingers quickly moved down toward his stomach. Nie MingJue formed a claw with his fingers and vibrated them against the very center of Nie HuaiSang’s tummy.

Nie HuaiSang threw his head back, loud barks of hysterical laughter blooming out from within his very core. Both his hands moved to wrap around Nie MingJue’s wrist, but he couldn’t push his brother’s single hand with two of his own: all his laughter making him feel weaker.

“Oh, so this is still the spot!” Nie MingJue said, trying to find an opening through Nie HuaiSang’s clothes to get his bare tummy. “You really liked this spot when you were a child. Shamelessly opening your clothes and saying ‘Da-ge, Da-ge, tickle my tummy, please?’”

Oh Heavens, stop saying that! It was what Nie HuaiSang wanted to yell, but Nie MingJue was actually able to sneak his hand under Nie HuaiSang’s clothes and the contact of skin to skin made Nie HuaiSang shriek and howl hysterically.

He shook his head and kicked his legs, even trying to use them as a support to flip himself over, but he was just too weak and Nie MingJue had so much practice reducing him into a laughing mess, there was no way out!

Nie MingJue chuckled and he teased Nie HuaiSang again, but the younger cultivator could barely hear anything besides himself, especially when Nie MingJue’s fingers found that particular super sensitive spot right around his belly button.

“DAHAHA-GE! D-Dahaha-ge, stahahaha!” He could feel his face burning, blushing at his big brother’s antics, and he knew that if he wanted to save some face and prevent himself from doing that funny sound with his nose when he laughed so much, he had to take action.

Nie HuaiSang, blindly and quite uncoordinated, shot his hands up, luckily finding a perfect fit right against Nie MingJue’s armpits. His fingertips nestling right against the center of his armpits as they weakly started to wiggle.

Nie MingJue was insanely ticklish there, (Nie HuaiSang didn’t know how it was that he knew that information), so the weak tickling was enough to make him laugh hard as he glued his arms to his sides. Nie HuaiSang was a mess, but he also was fast to recover so, as soon as he felt Nie MingJue’s fingers away from his tingling body, he launched at his brother, successfully pushing him against the wooden floor with a soft thud.

His weak wiggling, became fast digging and soon enough, Nie MingJue was arching his back and shrieking with laughter.

“IHIHIHI’LL kihihihill you!” He laughed out, unable to use his hands as he pressed them against his chest in a futile attempt to stop Nie HuaiSang’s fingers.

“I know, Da-ge! So I can’t stop!” Nie HuaiSang shrieked back, feeling a bit of fear bubbling in his chest for actually overpowering his brother with something as low as tickling.

It didn’t take long before Nie MingJue turned the tables again, but Nie HuaiSang saw his openings and attacked back.

They rolled around for a few more minutes trying to attack the most sensitive spot in the other and get the upper hand in their little wrestling until Nie HuaiSang called for a trust and they both collapsed on the floor, giggling and chuckling and trying to catch their breath; their mouths still stretched in a wide smile.

Nie HuaiSang felt somehow warm inside, he was not sure what had just happened, but he was not upset or sad about it, he was… happy.

They both sat up and Nie HuaiSang quickly poured another drink to his still slightly drunk big brother, his hands shaking a little after all the excitement.

“You, stupid little brother,” Nie MingJue chuckled and he suddenly grabbed Nie HuaiSang’s cheeks.

Nie HuaiSang squeaked, almost dropping the bottle. “Ah, Da-ge! I’m sorry, I-”

He was not expecting Nie MingJue to press his forehead against his, a warm and tender smile on his lips. “Da-Da-ge?”

“What will you do when your big brother is not around, hm?” Nie MingJue asked with a gentle voice and Nie HuaiSang relaxed, his voice just as gentle when he talked again.

"Probably die?”

Nie MingJue laughed, closing his eyes and bumping his forehead playfully. “You gotta be smart, HuaiSang, and strong.”

“I know Da-ge. I’m trying.”

"Yeah. I know too,” Nie MingJue said and he gently patted Nie HuaiSang’s cheeks before he let go of him to drink his third bottle.

Nie HuaiSang gently touched his forehead and he sighed. These moments with his brother were definitely his favorite. When Nie MingJue was a little clouded with liquor and his tongue a little loose and his heart a little warmer.

#Mo Dao Zu Shi #MDZS #Nie MingJue #Nie HuaiSang #Nie Brothers #mia's things #mia's fics #ticklish!Nie HuaiSang #ticklish!Nie MingJue

69 notes · View notes

tanoraqui · 4 years

Note

Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon -

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.”

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret.

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead.

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!”

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

#lyratalus #mdzs #the untamed #ficlet #lan sizhui #wei wuxian #uh who else is here #must i tag them all? don't wanna #my fic #hmm need the speaker for the dead variant to get more childhood stuff; they're similar there

166 notes · View notes