#and what I think would happen if Meng Yao had been free to be himself very early on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainhalydia · 1 year

Text

I was tagged by @st-clements-steps. Thank you, dear! I’m tagging @thevagueambition, @evax3, @wynafryd-manderly, @togglemaps and @helpitsaskingmequestions if you guys want to :3

Share a few lines of your WIP.

I’ve mostly been working on commissions right now, so I thought I’d do something a bit different and post the first scene of a WIP I’ve put aside for the moment. Lolita AU Nieyao under the cut:

Nie Mingjue wakes with Nie Huaisang shaking his shoulder.

“It’s Meng Yao,” he says. “He called asking me to pick him up at his place, he never calls, ever...”

Nie Mingjue is confused and half-asleep. He protests, “what does he even want in the middle of the night?”

“He didn’t say, he sounded so strange. We have to go, come on. I promised.”

Nie Huaisang looks about ready to go alone by himself, even though he’s fourteen and it’s four in the morning, so Nie Mingjue sits up, rubbing a hand on his face to chase sleep off, and puts on pants and his shoes.

“I’m going.” He says. “Just give me a minute.”

The drive is quiet but for Huaisang giving instructions. Nie Mingjue knows Meng Yao – his brother’s best and only friend, sometimes it seems – and his mother in passing, but he hasn’t been to their house much aside from picking Huaisang at times. He likes Meng Yao alright, he’s a polite and quiet kid, but from what little he knows, it’s very weird that he called Nie Huaisang so late.

The more Nie Mingjue thinks on it, the more awake he gets, the more he’s fearing what he’s going to find.

When they arrive, there’s a patrol car in front of the building. They go up and knock on the door. A woman who is not Meng Shi opens the door.

“Are you Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang?”

Nie Mingjue nods, and she lets them in. Meng Yao is sat on the cheap couch, hands entwined and ankles crossed, staring at the floor. There’s a cop sat on a chair in front of him, on the other side of a center table. Huaisang runs to Meng Yao, sitting by his side and hugs him awkwardly on his side. Meng Yao is stunned by the touch, like it pulled him from a dream-like haze.

“A-Sang… you’re here...” he makes to lean on Nie Huaisang, then blinks and gets up, freeing himself from Nie Huaisang’s arms. “I’m going to make some tea. Just wait a minute.”

Before anyone can say anything, he goes to the kitchen. The brothers exchange a look, communicating silently. Nie Huaisang gets up and goes after Meng Yao.

Once they’re alone, Nie Mingjue turns to the other adults.

“What is happening here?”

“Mr. Nie, I’m [full name], I’m the case work for Meng Yao and Meng Shi… Well, I’m sad to tell you that only for Meng Yao now.”

“What? Why? What happened to Meng Shi?”

“She was run over today. Drunk driver.” The cop says. They’re all standing now, whispering in a close circle, giving in to the tension now that Meng Yao is not there to play host against all odds. “The man has already been apprehended, but she didn’t make it to the hospital.”

Nie Mingjue is left speechless with shock, and starts to frown.

“I’m sorry,” the social worker says. “I know it’s a shock. But we must discuss Meng Yao’s case urgently.”

It becomes clear then why Meng Yao had called Nie Huaisang. To pick him up. He probably doesn’t have any more family, so he called his best friend.

“The paternity case is still on-going.” The social workers goes on. “I’ve contacted Jin Guangshan, but he still denies that Meng Yao is his son. I think he’ll keep denying it until he’s made to do a genetic test. Meng Yao told me that you’re like an older brother to him...”

Nie Mingjue frowns harder.

“Like a brother.”

“Mr Nie… cases like that… if there is no other parent or relative, it’s not unusual for a family friend to take up guardianship. But those things are usually talked about beforehand. No one really expects you to do it, but he was very insistent on calling. At fourteen, his opinion would matter on court, so...”

So she had decided to try to foist another teenager on him.

He can hear Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang whispering among themselves too in the kitchen, that’s how small the apartment is. The scent of newly-brewed tea reaches them in the living room, but no one shows up to serve it.

“What would happen to him, if I didn’t...”

“The state will work on finding another guardian for him. He would be put in a group home for now, and then in a foster home, if there is a good match, possibly in another city depending on availability. When his paternity case is settled, his father will be given custody.”

“It’d be much easier on everyone if you could do it,” the cop says. “At least for now. We can still take him away and someone will arrange for the funeral once the hooker’s, I mean, the prostitute’s body is released, but well, it’s ass o’clock in the morning already.”

Nie Mingjue imagines punching this cop’s teeth in, then breathes in and out until the fantasy fades. What would be easy for the government is not necessarily what would be easier for him. Meng Yao is not his family at all and he already has a lot on his plate with just Nie Huaisang, even if he loves his brother.

But saying no would mean sending this newly orphaned kid to fuck knows where, with fuck knows who, at the mercy of men like this.

“It would only be temporary?” He asks the case worker. “Until that situation with his father is sorted?”

The case worker, who had cringed listening to the cop, straightens up to answer Nie Mingjue.

“Yes. Only until then.”

She has the papers with her in a brown leather case. Nie Mingjue wonders how often she’s witnessed those things to have everything in order so readily, but it’s convenient, if nothing else. He reads everything over, but it seems straight forward enough.

He looks up from the papers to see Meng Yao watching from the kitchen, half-hidden by the doorway, Nie Huaisang peaking from behind him. It’s clear that they’ve been listening to the whole conversation no matter how quiet they were. Nie Huaisang looks expectant, but Meng Yao’s face is completely blank. He only nods once at Nie Mingjue from behind the cop and the social worker’s backs, and Nie Mingjue takes that as permission.

He remains inscrutable as they go back home, hugging his night bag and oboe case as Nie Huaisang hugs him in the back seat. Baxia watches him warily when they enter the house, and Nie Mingjue picks her up before she decides to throw up on the couch again. He goes to jail her in his room for now, but can hear their discussion at his back.

“You can stay in my room.” Nie Huaisang says. “You’ve slept over, you know the bed is big enough for two, and we need at least one store between us and Da-ge’s snoring if we want to sleep.”

Meng Yao says. “I don’t want to impose, A-Sang. I know you’re a light sleeper. The couch is more than fine, really.”

“You’re not imposing! Really, it’s alright, you’re so quiet Yao-ge, you won’t disturb me at all.” His voice gets louder. “Da-ge, you snore like a truck, isn’t that right? His septum was deviated when he got a broken nose in a fight once, he’s a mouth-breather ever since.”

“Huaisang… Please don’t be so mean to your brother. You two are being so generous already...”

Nie Mingjue comes back without a cat and finds Nie Huaisang rubbing Meng Yao’s upper arm to comfort him. He looks like he wants to cling to Meng Yao, badly, but Meng Yao is just giving him a tired smile.

Nie Mingjue is discomfited and worried about how stoic Meng Yao is being about his mother’s death, acting so polite and dignified. Maybe it’s because he’s not allowed to see her body yet. He had been a mess when his parents died one quickly after the other, and Nie Huaisang was even worse, throwing tantrum after tantrum. But then again, no matter how destroyed he was inside, he had tried to put on a strong front for his brother, so maybe Meng Yao is doing the same.

“Da-ge, Meng Yao can stay in my room, right?”

Nie Mingjue takes one look at Meng Yao’s tired face, and how it becomes blank again when Nie Mingjue approaches. “I’ll clear up the office for him.”

“But, Da-ge!”

“Leave it, Huaisang. If you want to help, give me a hand with the pull-out couch.”

They all clear up space in Nie Mingjue’s home office with Baxia meowing next door. It goes quickly. Nie Huaisang is grabbing extra pillows and blankets from the closet and Nie Mingjue finishes settling the pull-out couch. He turns to Meng Yao, standing at the door and still hugging his bag.

“That’ll do for now,” he says, awkward. “We’ll look for a proper bed later.”

Meng Yao nods. “Thank you, Mr. Nie. I’m really grateful. I swear that this is only temporary.”

Nie Mingjue swallows his awkwardness. He tries to think of how he would act if Meng Yao was Huaisang, if he was really his little brother. He draws a blank, but decides to try.

He puts a hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. “I’ll be right next door, and Huaisang upstairs if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to come to us.”

That might have worked on Huaisang, but Meng Yao tenses under his touch. Nie Mingjue retreats his hand quickly, and takes a step back for good measure. Meng Yao remains tense, staring at something to Nie Mingjue’s left.

Nie Mingjue thinks that for all that Meng Yao sees him as an older brother, he’s clearly not used to having one.

“Try to sleep.”

They all finally settle for the night, even though it’s almost day. Nie Mingjue thinks that he’ll have to call Nie Zonghui in the morning to have him manage the gym while he arranges for Meng Shi’s funeral, clearing her apartment, and bringing Meng Yao’s things home. The list of things grow in his head, and he’s unable to fall asleep.

It’s only because he’s still awake, and quiet, that he hears when Meng Yao finally starts sobbing. He starts quietly, then cries in earnest, clearly trying to stifle the sounds as much as he can. The sound goes on for hours, and Nie Mingjue listens on, an unwilling witness to the pain and grief that Meng Yao didn’t want to share with anyone.

#tag game #nieyao #the lolita au

5 notes · View notes

eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years

Text

All Dreams Were Worth Keeping

Part 9 - NSFW (just at the beginning)

[Masterpost][Ao3]

(@forestandstardust, @omgpurplefattie, and @threephasebird all expressed interest in seeing this chapter (out of my four active wips) first/soon so here it is! Thanks for giving me the motivation to write 6600 more words in a day, y'all <3 This one's for all three of you lol)

-//-

By the time they make it to bed, Lan Xichen is feeling wonderfully boneless. It’s not an entirely new sensation, he’s found a few casual (trusted) partners in the past to help him scratch this particular itch, but he’s never been brought to this point so quickly, and certainly never solely from letting his partner fuck his mouth a bit. He’s typically a bit of a harder nut to crack, but of course Meng Yao would prove himself to be special in this as well.

Lan Xichen barely even has to think at all as Meng Yao gives him clear, concise instructions to follow and plenty of praises every time he successfully does so. He can still taste Meng Yao’s come on his tongue as he’s laid out on his stomach in a jumble of blankets and pillows to be fucked hard and slow, first with Meng Yao’s clever fingers and then his tongue and then, mercifully, his cock. Lan Xichen stays loose-limbed and relaxed as per Meng Yao’s instructions, the man’s hands on his back both holding him down as well as letting Meng Yao have the proper leverage to lean down and fuck him as deeply as possible until Lan Xichen is an absolute disaster underneath him, moaning and rolling his hips automatically to seek out some friction on his erection and meet Meng Yao’s precise thrusts.

And precise means precise. There’s not a single wasted movement, no hesitation, no rearranging, no clumsiness. There’s just the too-warm bed, Lan Xichen sprawled out on it, and Meng Yao above him to drive into him over and over again with unbelievable accuracy and control. It really shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but then again Lan Xichen has never once pretended like competence - in any area - doesn’t turn him on. (The sheer number of times he’d thrown himself at Nie Mingjue back when he’d been a leather craftsman for the Nie brand - back before his father’s death - and Lan Xichen had been able to watch him work his very hands-on trade was..not embarrassing, because he has never been embarrassed about how desperately he wants his lover, but it had certainly been Something.)

He comes pretty much untouched for the second time that night thinking about Nie Mingjue’s skilled, strong hands on him while Meng Yao slams home inside him again, his nails biting into his skin probably hard enough to break through in places, and if not then certainly hard enough to bruise. It doesn’t take long after that before Meng Yao is chasing his own second orgasm, thrusts growing erratic and slightly more uncoordinated now that he doesn’t have to worry about giving Lan Xichen anything in particular and can just work on himself.

He’s not entirely sure how long they stay there like that, Meng Yao massaging his back now and rolling his hips slightly until he finally pulls out and gently shushes Lan Xichen’s little protesting whine. “I’m right here,” Meng Yao murmurs and then he lays himself out on top of him and even with the rather significant difference in their height and general builds Lan Xichen melts instantly, feeling pleasantly surrounded. He closes his eyes with a soft hum and settles into the easy comfort of it, being weighed down by Meng Yao so small and warm on top of him. He’s the perfect weight to lay on him fully to make him feel grounded - honestly Lan Xichen is pretty sure he could sleep through the night just like this, without even bothering to clean up or talk or anything else at all.

He closes his eyes and drifts a little with that desire in mind, riding out the hazy, fluffy sort of feeling that’s replaced most of his thoughts. Meng Yao’s mouth is warm and just the right amount of wet as he mouths idly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, no doubt leaving a nice dark bruise (or two, or three) on his skin, and Lan Xichen is utterly content.

“You’re so sweet,” Meng Yao eventually murmurs. Lan Xichen rouses enough to pay attention of course, but he doesn’t feel up to moving or trying to get his lips to form coherent words so he just listens - both to the quiet, slightly wet brushing of Meng Yao’s lips against his skin and to the praises he murmurs between those luxurious kisses. “Beautiful. And so..responsive. Mm. Between you and Mingjue I’m going to get too spoiled to ever want anyone else.”

Lan Xichen manages to muster enough energy then to hum an enthusiastic agreement to that. That’s good. He doesn’t want Meng Yao to be anything but spoiled rotten, and if letting the man put him on his knees and fuck him utterly senseless is what can accomplish that then that’s a wonderfully efficient way to keep everyone happy.

“Hm? You like that, do you? Interesting. Well you’d better be prepared to keep giving me what I want, then. And I’m a lot more demanding than Mingjue.”

Lan Xichen’s breath hitches in his throat and a moan slips out on the exhale. Demanding. He knows that most people probably wouldn’t like the sound of that (certainly Meng Yao seems to be expecting him not to like it), but Lan Xichen has never concerned himself too much with what other people think or do, not unless absolutely necessary. He speaks in a way that most people find uncomfortable or clunky partially because he was raised that way but also because he likes it. He dresses well but he doesn’t concern himself too much with what’s fashionable or not. He has (had, now) an open relationship with Nie Mingjue despite criticisms of the practice, and thanks to that he is now happily dating two incredible men. He pursued an obscure branch of music research because it interested him and he’s found a way to turn it into his livelihood...

And now he hears the word ‘demanding’ on Meng Yao’s lips as if it’s supposed to be a self-criticism and between one second and the next he’s craving it so urgently his mouth goes dry.

“Xichen?”

“ ‘Demanding’ is excellent,” Lan Xichen forces himself to say, his voice thoroughly wrecked. “A-Yao may demand anything he wishes of me.”

“Oh? Right now, you mean?”

“Any time. Always. A-Yao may choose at any moment to demand anything of me and I will do my best to provide.”

Lan Xichen is awake enough again by now to feel the way Meng Yao’s breath stutters against the nape of his neck, to take note of the way his next kiss is hard enough for Lan Xichen to feel the slight scrape of his teeth against the knob at the top of his spine.

“Are you still hard?”

Lan Xichen has to shift his hips to make sure he can actually locate them to check (his brain might still mostly be offline, he can’t be blamed for that) but when he presses down into the sheets rumpled underneath him he has absolutely no trouble realizing that the answer is a breathless, “Yes.”

“So perfect, gege,” Meng Yao purrs right in his ear, lips brushing against the very edge of it. “Mingjue has given me the best toy to play with.”

Lan Xichen manages a weak, slightly strained huff of breath that passes for a chuckle as Meng Yao kisses his neck again with conviction and then shifts off of him to help him turn over, which Lan Xichen attempts to do on his own but he’s surprised to find that his joints all feel like water and his muscles like lead. Nie Mingjue has told him in the past that sleeping with Meng Yao is all manner of wonderful things, and while of course he hadn’t not believed him, it’s only in this moment that he’s beginning to realize that even Nie Mingue’s effusive praises may have fallen short of how incredible it actually is to be the focus of all that skill and attention.

“How are you feeling?” Meng Yao asks as he slides on top of him again to straddle his hips and Lan Xichen arches with a little gasp when his (so perfect, so holdable) ass rubs against his over-sensitive erection.

“Marry me,” slips out of his lips before he can even think and though a flash of fear follows hot on the heels of the realization of what he’d said, he’s instantly rewarded with a bright peal of laughter that has him staring up at Meng Yao with stars in his glassy eyes and a new life goal taking root in his heart to always find new ways to make Meng Yao laugh like that.

“You’re ridiculous,” Meng Yao says fondly but Lan Xichen barely hears it, he’s far too busy staring at the dimples in his cheeks and the way the warmth of his gaze is bright with equal parts amusement and affection. “Xichen!” he calls after a long moment of staring at each other, his lips stretching with a slow widening of his smile that steals Lan Xichen’s breath right out of his lungs.

“Mhm?”

“You didn’t answer me. Are you alright?”

“Mhmm...Lovely. Wonderful,” he breathes after finding coherent words with an effort. Meng Yao rewards him with a roll of his hips and his back arches again as he lets out a breathless ‘ah!’ that makes Meng Yao chuckle and run a soothing hand up and down the center of his chest a few times.

“Good. I have a proposition for you.”

“Mm?”

“You lie here just like this, and I will do whatever I want with you.”

“Mm. Genius, A-Yao. My A-Yao is so smart.”

Meng Yao chuckles again with a shake of his head as he leans down, stopping his playful tutting quickly once in position to press a slow, hazy kiss to his lips that he drags out until Lan Xichen’s mind goes pleasantly blank again and his hands are clenched tightly around Meng Yao’s hips to hold him down so he can grind up against him with clumsy, desperate rolls of his hips. And Meng Yao isn’t merciful enough to stop kissing him once he starts on the next round, rather he seems to be doing his best not to break away for even a second as he rides him long and slow and Lan Xichen can’t help but feel, once again, that if he’s going to die of pleasure and happiness this is the best way he could hope for.

In the end, it takes another three orgasms - making it five total for the night - before Meng Yao is satisfied and Lan Xichen finally can’t go on any longer (at least not without taking a longer break than they have the time or energy for this late at night). It’s possible that if they were doing this throughout the day he could find the wherewithal to keep going, but for now what they have already accomplished will have to do.

They clean up as lazily as possible while still being comfortable enough to sleep and then settle in and tonight, thankfully, there’s no talk at all about anyone having to leave, or any sneaking out of bed once the other is asleep. Instead Meng Yao curls up in his arms with a pleased hum that Lan Xichen returns with one of his own, and they fall asleep within moments of each other, Lan Xichen’s lips still pressed gently to Meng Yao’s forehead where he’s cradling the smaller man against his chest and side.

When Lan Xichen wakes naturally a minute or two after five the next morning, Meng Yao is still snug in his arms, and just like the previous morning he can’t see Meng Yao sweet and warm in his arms and not kiss him. He takes his time pulling him in closer to tuck himself around his smaller frame so he can nuzzle barely-there kisses into his forehead and both cheeks. His skin soft and pleasantly warm with sleep (a much gentler heat than the furnace that is Nie Mingjue), and Lan Xichen could happily stay right there for the rest of forever. The only thing missing is Nie Mingjue to make the picture complete of course, but that could easily be remedied and then they’d never have to move again. It’s a brilliant plan, and one he would very much like to test out someday.

But unfortunately the world is not perfect and Lan Xichen is a creature of long-held habits, and so he only allows himself roughly ten minutes or so of holding Meng Yao and doing his best not to wake him before he reluctantly slides out of bed to go through his usual morning routine in the same order that he does it every day.

He’s just finishing his quick round of post-meditation stretches to get warmed up for the day a little over an hour later when he’s startled by Meng Yao’s alarm, loud and unpleasant in the quiet stillness of the morning. He wrinkles his nose ever so slightly in distaste even as Meng Yao rolls over with a groan to slap the clock until it quiets again.

There’s some vague mumbling from Meng Yao’s direction interrupted by a pause before he speaks unintelligibly again, though it quickly solidifies into a small, far too tentative, “Xichen?” that wrenches at his heart.

“A-Yao,” he replies as he breaks out of his stretch and rolls to his feet in one smooth motion to slip back into the bed. “You are awake earlier than yesterday,” he murmurs as he tucks himself around Meng Yao to cradle him to his chest.

“Mingjue and I go in later on Mondays than the rest of the week. Where did you go?” The question comes out somewhat accusatory but of course Lan Xichen isn’t fazed by it at all, nor does he blame Meng Yao for being at least mildly upset to find himself waking alone after everything they’d done the night before.

“Not far, I swear to you. I used your restroom, took a short shower, and I have been doing my meditation right here next to the bed since,” he soothes as he runs his hand up and down Meng Yao’s back slowly. “I had planned to wake you with kisses and coffee soon, I apologize you were awoken by your terrible alarm instead.”

There’s a bit more incoherent grumbling as Meng Yao burrows further down under the blankets and winds up with his face pressed under his arm. Not necessarily Lan Xichen’s personal first choice of location, but he smiles softly anyway and shifts enough to allow him to get as close as he wants and to lift his hand to start running it through the wild birds’ nest of his hair. How Nie Mingjue managed to find the strength yesterday morning to let Meng Yao get up and get ready for the day when he’s soft and sweet and a little grumpy like this is beyond him - Lan Xichen doesn’t ever want to let go.

Of course he has to eventually, but he’s at least gratified to see that Meng Yao looks thoroughly disgruntled by the idea of separating - a sentiment with which Lan Xichen is in full agreement. He offers him a few kisses in consolation before he retreats to the kitchen to start making him coffee as he hears the shower squeak on a few moments later.

It becomes clear over the course of the morning that Meng Yao is very much not a morning person, which Lan Xichen finds unfairly adorable. He’s sure that’s probably strange, but he can’t help it. Meng Yao is glaring at the world like it has personally offended him in every way until his eyes land on Lan Xichen, at which point he looks slightly mollified, like Lan Xichen’s presence is able to make up for the injustices of the world that have conspired to force him awake at such an hour. Even dressed and ready for the day he looks ready to crawl right back into bed, and it’s a good thing they both want to see Nie Mingjue or else Lan Xichen might drag him back there himself for a little while longer. (For all that he diligently keeps to his personal schedule, he’s not much of a fan of keeping a schedule others set for him, including work schedules, even when they don’t affect him in any way except to deprive him of his boyfriends.)

Halfway through his second cup of coffee and a basic breakfast, though, Meng Yao begins to look more alert and Lan Xichen even finally gets a smile out of him - just a small one - when he knocks their feet together under the dining table with a warm, bright smile of his own.

“You’re too...happy for this time of day,” Meng Yao grumbles and Lan Xichen huffs out a breath of a laugh. “How has Mingjue not converted you to getting up at a more sensible time?”

“He has tried valiantly but it has proven to be a habit I do not wish to break and so am unable to do so,” Lan Xichen replies with a shrug and a smile. “I enjoy it, it suits my lifestyle and temperament, and I am quiet enough that I do not disturb those I care about who prefer to sleep. I see nothing wrong with maintaining the habit.”

Meng Yao hums at that into the depths of his mug as he drains the rest of it in a few long gulps but Lan Xichen intercepts him when he stands to refill it, snagging the cup from his hands and soothing him with a kiss to the top of his head before he retreats to rinse it out and refill it with water instead.

“Xichen, this isn’t caffeinated,” Meng Yao states, looking utterly betrayed as he studies the contents of the mug with a pout.

“Mm, I know. You need to hydrate,” he replies implacably as he returns to the table to accept Meng Yao’s truly impressive pout head on. He would like to think that it’s something of an accomplishment that he manages to smile at him through it instead of caving in immediately.

“I don’t want to hydrate, I want to caffeinate.”

“Then I shall be happy to bring you coffee later this morning as an excuse to come and see you.”

Whatever Meng Yao was going to say next is cut off at the knees by the flash of surprise in his eyes, and after a moment he squints a little suspiciously even as he raises his mug to his lips to take a sip of his water.

“I’m not nice at work,” he says as he lowers the mug again, his tone wary.

“Yes, so I have noticed.”

“So why would you want to come see me?”

“For the same reason I enjoy sitting in Mingjue’s office to watch him while he paces and successfully intimidates most anyone with a foolish request to ask of him.”

Meng Yao’s eyes go a bit distant and a smirk threatens at the corner of his lips, the faintest shadow of a dimple darkening his cheek. “Mm. Okay, point made, that’s a very good look on him.” His gaze goes shrewd then and Lan Xichen meets it easily, still smiling ever so slightly mostly because he just can’t help it - Meng Yao makes him smile and he doesn’t see a need to suppress that, especially when they’re in private. “You like us mean, then? Both of us?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Must I have a reason?” Lan Xichen asks curiously with a little tilt of his head. “Is it not enough to know what I enjoy, and to then find excuses to actively seek it out?”

“I guess,” Meng Yao mutters ungraciously - really, he’s an entirely different person at this time of day but Lan Xichen is unsurprised to find that he adores this version of Meng Yao as well. “Fine, I’ll drink the water and you can bring me a very large coffee later.”

“I shall be quite happy to.”

“By the way..about what you said last night...” Meng Yao hedges, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden in a way that makes Lan Xichen sit up a little straighter, pay even more attention to the man in front of him (which he wouldn’t have previously thought possible).

“Yes?”

“Did you mean it?”

“I said many things last night, and I assure you I meant them all as I do not say things I do not mean, but may I know what you are thinking of in particular?”

“That I can be...demanding. Whenever, not just when you’re subbing for me.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I would quite like it if you could feel comfortable enough to ask me for things.”

“Comfortable?”

“Mm.”

“Explain.”

“Alright,” Lan Xichen agrees with a considering hum. He links his hands together on the table and thinks hard about the best way to phrase what it is he wants to say. Meng Yao is patient across from him, just slowly sipping at his water and fiddling with the handle of his fork resting on his empty plate as he waits for the answer Lan Xichen is clearly working towards. “From both Mingjue’s previous praises and my own observations of you, I have come to understand that you are an extremely capable and skilled individual in anything you set your hands on. Such incredible competence is, I am sure, the result of years of hard work and dedication and, if I am not mistaken, a great deal of independence, whether you have wished for that independence or not. You are a remarkable man - and of course I hope you see that in yourself though I am also pleased and prepared to inform you of it as often as necessary as you are constantly astonishing me. But such independence can be a double-edged blade, and I worry that it has also made you feel that you cannot rely on others, and so must accomplish everything yourself. If you are comfortable enough with me to ask me for things you could just as easily do for yourself - if you demand them of me and give me a chance to do them and in doing so spoil you as I believe you deserve - I will consider it a declaration of trust and comfort with my presence, and I will be even more eager to give you what you wish for as long as it is within my power, no matter what it is or how you ask it of me.”

Lan Xichen watches Meng Yao blink long and slow, his expression entirely blank but for a slightly manic light in his eyes that Lan Xichen is choosing to interpret as something in the family of ‘lust’ until proven otherwise. (Perhaps ‘intense desire’ is a more polite way to phrase it, but he doesn’t really enjoy splitting hairs. Better to call a spade a spade.)

“How do you...exist?” Meng Yao finally asks, sounding dazed, and Lan Xichen positively beams. He loves Nie Mingjue with every piece of himself that exists, but he can’t deny that there’s something novel and wonderful in being appreciated by someone who is still learning him as much as the reverse is true. It’s exhilarating to get to know Meng Yao - and to be able to do it without any true awkwardness or any need to pretend that they’re not physically interested in each other as well. And to be able to do it while keeping Nie Mingjue as a partner in both of their lives as well? Truly, Lan Xichen can’t imagine anything he could want more now that he has it.

“I would be perfectly happy to explain the mechanics of it for you at a later date, though I believe I can personally testify that you have a firm grasp of them already even if your methods do not result in any..existences.”

That earns him another long blink and then Meng Yao is laughing like he had last night, bright and happy, though it’s cut unfortunately short as he gives himself a little shake. “A sex joke. He makes a heterosexual sex joke over breakfast at 7 in the morning,” he mutters into his water and Lan Xichen clears his throat delicately to add,

“Technically speaking you have finished your breakfast and we are now simply waiting for it to be time to leave.”

“Oh my god Xichen be quiet and make out with me on the couch.”

“Mm, with pleasure,” he replies warmly, earning himself an affectionate eye-roll, but in the end it leads to an extended repeat of the way they’d spent their extra time the previous morning as well, so he certainly isn’t going to complain.

----

They arrive at the office on time, because Lan Xichen and Meng Yao are both very responsible adults. They do not arrive looking..perfectly put together, because they are responsible adults who very much enjoy enthusiastically making out on the couch like sexually frustrated teenagers until the last possible minute before they have to leave, and therefore they arrive looking perhaps a little more flustered and kiss-bitten than is strictly appropriate.

Lan Xichen has every intention of walking Meng Yao to his office for one final goodbye kiss right up until they’re waylaid by Nie Huaisang almost as soon as they step into the main space, the man’s smile looking perfectly fine - but manic when paired with his unnaturally wide eyes like it is now.

“A-Sang what’s wrong?” Meng Yao asks in an undertone, suddenly all business where just moments ago in the elevator he had been much more relaxed, charmingly flirtatious.

“Er-ge, could you go check on da-ge for me please?” Nie Huaisang says, voice pitched too low to carry beyond their little cluster just inside the door though his tone itself is still light, just in case. But Lan Xichen knows that look well, and paired with Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to go to dinner last night with who he had, Lan Xichen has little trouble parsing it out. He’s off without another word as he hears Nie Huaisang say, “Yaoyao, I’ve gone ahead and cleared out your urgent calls for the morning - there’s something you and I need to talk about.”

Lan Xichen makes his way quickly to Nie Mingjue’s office and he doesn’t bother knocking, he just lets himself in and shuts the door quickly, locking it as Nie Mingjue turns the full strength of his furious glare on him though it softens marginally when he registers just who he’s looking at.

“I’m here,” Lan Xichen soothes in lieu of a proper greeting, stepping forward though he doesn’t actually approach. Better to wait for Nie Mingjue to come to him when he’s like this. “You’re alright,” he adds in a gentle murmur, the closest to a lie he’ll ever tell. Nie Mingjue isn’t alright, that much is painfully clear, but he will be alright, and that’s what matters in moments like this.

“He’s getting bolder, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue growls as he returns to the pacing Lan Xichen had interrupted. “And everyone else does nothing! The man practically admits to driving my father to madness and no one gives a fuck because he’s got them all in his pockets! What am I supposed to do?!”

“My uncle -”

“Is a good man, but he’s a good man who will do absolutely nothing to interrupt his peaceful life Xichen, and you know I’m right!”

Xichen sighs softly but he can’t deny that Lan Qiren will do anything he must to avoid becoming embroiled in the ever-shifting politics of the social circle he still technically belongs to. He does the token amount required of him to essentially make sure his presence is remembered and given proper weight, but other than that he avoids it like the plague - a position which Lan Xichen understands and sympathizes with most of the time, but it’s becoming harder and harder to do so when he sees what a toll it takes on Nie Mingjue to feel that there’s no one in his corner to defend him.

“Would you like to tell me what he said or shall I assume it is more of the same?”

“It’s always the same!! And as if the stupid fucking farce of a standing dinner appointment isn’t enough, this morning I came in early to wait for you and A-Yao only to find he’s left me three snide messages, two voicemails and an email reiterating his points. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“I do not know,” Lan Xichen sighs with an intense regret. “I have never excelled in this sort of..situation.”

“Where’s A-Yao?” Nie Mingjue suddenly barks as he stops in front of his desk to mash his finger on the intercom button, though of course there’s no response from Meng Yao’s empty office.

“I believe A-Sang is briefing him on the issue.”

“Good. A-Yao’s fucking ruthless. He can help me destroy that monster.”

“Mingjue..”

“I’ve let this go on long enough, Xichen!” Nie Mingjue snaps, and after a moment to compose himself with a sharp inhale he turns to cross the room and grab Lan Xichen by the upper arms. It doesn’t hurt because Nie Mingjue would never hurt him, and Lan Xichen isn’t afraid of Nie Mingjue or his infamous temper, so he stays still and meets his boyfriend’s eyes with nothing but concern in his searching gaze.

“What will you ask A-Yao to do?” Lan Xichen asks softly after a few moments of silence.

“I don’t know yet, but he can help me figure something out, I know it. He’s good at this, this politics thing. You and I don’t have the heads for it, he’ll come up with something better than you or I ever will. I know him.”

“Alright. It will likely take a while for A-Sang to tell him everything we know about what has already happened. You need to be calmer to talk to him, I do not want you to frighten him.”

“Fine. Get Luo Yi in here, then.”

“Who?”

“Just open the door.”

Lan Xichen hesitates for a long moment, wary of exposing any innocent bystanders to Nie Mingjue’s genuine anger, but after a long moment of study he sighs - Nie Mingjue is angry, yes, and clearly desperate to do something to make Wen Ruohan pay for the damages he’d done to the Nie family (and the business, of course, but every injured party is, naturally, much more concerned with the personal loss of Lao Nie than any financial hits to the company). But a close study of his eyes is enough to reassure Lan Xichen that he’s not out of his senses with that very understandable anger, and so after a moment he withdraws carefully from Nie Mingjue’s grip to step back and open the door again without any protest. He has just a moment to brace himself as he watches Nie Mingjue suck in an enormous breath before the man bellows, at the top of his lungs, a furious call for the person he had just asked for.

All noise out in the office of people beginning their workday stops dead for a beat before it resumes, and when Lan Xichen glances out into the space it’s to see everyone very pointedly ignoring a lone man who has stood from his desk, his face pale.

Lan Xichen would perhaps feel bad for him did he not recognize him immediately as the man Nie Mingjue had stopped to speak to on Friday, the man who had neglected to follow a simple instruction to order lunch for Meng Yao. Just like that any sympathy he has vanishes to be replaced by a fierce sort of vindication on Meng Yao’s behalf. He’s not precisely proud of the fact that he’s suddenly heartily looking forward to Nie Mingjue taking out his temper on this man as a way to get it out and calm down, but he at least trusts that this isn’t the first incident between the man and Meng Yao, nor an entirely unexpected reckoning for his behavior if the man’s guilty expression is anything to judge by.

Lan Xichen watches him approach with his metaphorical tail tucked as if he’s headed for the gallows, and when Luo Yi enters the office Lan Xichen quietly shuts the door behind him and retreats to the sofa under the window where he goes about keeping himself out of the way to watch unobtrusively as the Nie Mingjue absolutely tears into the man.

It’s worse than Lan Xichen had expected. Nie Mingjue asks him about not only the incident on Friday but multiple others in which the man has deliberately obstructed Meng Yao’s work entirely or at least made it more difficult than necessary. For all that Lan Xichen would never solve such problems in this particular way, he can’t deny that it’s effective, at least on someone with a temperament like Luo Yi’s. The more accusations Nie Mingjue brings to light, the more defensive Luo Yi gets until, whether he’s aware of it or not, the man begins digging himself further into the hole without any further reports of incidents provided by Nie Mingjue at all.

He ends up revealing that not only are the accusations from Nie Mingjue all entirely true, but he goes on to boast - boast - about things that Meng Yao has achieved that he has taken the credit for, all with a sneering condescension that puts Lan Xichen’s teeth on edge. Of course he doesn’t word it as such, but anyone with a lick of common sense would be able to extrude such ‘accomplishments’ from his ‘defenses’ of his behavior, and by the time Nie Mingjue is shouting at him good and proper Lan Xichen is in full agreement with the sentiment - and even finding himself almost agreeing with the execution of those sentiments.

By the time it’s over, Lan Xichen has decided to keep careful notes of everything Luo Yi confesses by way of defense, and the list ends up being absurdly long. The man leaves the office on immediate suspension pending investigation into his behavior, and once they’re alone again Lan Xichen stands to wordlessly hand his phone to Nie Mingjue so he can read back through the list. They’re still there leaning against the front of his desk - Lan Xichen cool and composed in his anger, a hand slowly rubbing Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, with Nie Mingjue still bristling but mostly alright beside him - when there’s a tentative knock on the half-open door.

“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue says instantly and Lan Xichen whips his head up to find Meng Yao standing in the doorway looking at the pair of them with an utterly inscrutable expression on his face. “Come in and shut the door.”

Meng Yao does as requested, and Lan Xichen mimes turning the lock with the hand not on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder down by his hip. Meng Yao throws the lock with a little flick of his wrist but shows no signs of relaxing even in private as he approaches.

“No more dinners with Wen Ruohan,” he says, low and fierce, when he’s standing right in front of them, his eyes fixed on Nie Mingjue.

“A-Yao-”

“No more dinners with Wen Ruohan!” he repeats, shockingly fierce. Lan Xichen blinks in surprise, but his surprise must be nothing compared to Nie Mingjue’s judging by the way he jerks slightly under Lan Xichen’s hand.

Lan Xichen prides himself on his ability to read expressions, even in those he doesn’t know very well. Having Lan Wangji as his brother has been extremely helpful for that particular skill, and he’s accustomed to falling back on it like a very convenient crutch whenever he needs to get a read on an unfamiliar situation. Being unable to read Meng Yao’s expression whatsoever upon his entrance had been disorienting, but Lan Xichen wonders as it suddenly hits home how he could have missed it.

Meng Yao is livid.

His expression hasn’t changed in the least but his voice is absolutely blistering with barely controlled emotion and Lan Xichen can see his hands are shaking when he reaches up to rest them on Nie Mingjue’s broad chest, fingers curling slowly into fists in the front of his shirt until Lan Xichen begins to fear for the thread holding the buttons in place.

“If you think for a single second that I’m going to let you within 50 feet of that viper anymore you are incredibly mistaken.”

“I can take care of myself, A-Yao!” Nie Mingjue retorts, temper already rising again and Lan Xichen is very suddenly reminded of the...tumultuous nature of their relationship, and that these things don’t change overnight - or over the course of a few nights - simply because the three of them are enjoying a new dynamic together.

“Can you? How did you take care of yourself last night? Tell me, Mingjue. If I walk into your house right this second how many dishes am I going to find shattered on the kitchen floor? How much of a disarray is your home in, did any of your breakable decor survive the night? Did you sleep at all? Did you eat? Or have you spent the last 12 hours in a blind rage and you’re only just now getting it out of your system because Xichen is here?”

Nie Mingjue’s silence is damning.

Lan Xichen curls his hand a little more tightly around Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, a silent reminder that despite how it may feel at the moment the three of them all want to help each other, they want to support each other, and that Meng Yao is doing what he thinks is necessary to accomplish that common goal in these circumstances. It’s a lot to communicate with such a simple gesture, but he and Nie Mingjue are familiar enough with each other by now that he thinks it comes across anyway.

“You scared A-Sang,” Meng Yao bites next, face still terrifyingly blank and it’s actually getting to the point where Lan Xichen wishes he would just frown, glare, do anything except look numb even while he’s so audibly upset. “You’re scaring me, and you’re worrying Xichen. Is all of this worth whatever minimal amount of respect you get out of playing into their hands so you don’t show any ‘weakness’? Or are you finally done letting those snakes toy with you like you’re the next mouse they’re hunting just like they did to your father?”

“No. I’m done,” Nie Mingjue growls, low and dangerous, and Lan Xichen very nearly stops him from reaching up to take hold of Meng Yao’s forearms but he restrains himself at the last moment. As much as he wants to interfere, this is something between the two of them (Lan Xichen can tell that while Wen Ruohan is the main focus, Meng Yao had just spoken in the plural - and he can’t imagine that Jiang Fengmian is someone who qualifies as one of these ‘snakes’, which leaves only Jin Guangshan as someone cruel but influential enough to have such power over Nie Mingjue).

He and Nie Mingjue tell each other just about everything that goes on in their lives when they can’t be together in person, but Lan Xichen is slowly coming to realize that there are most likely a few things - important things - that Nie Mingjue must have been glossing over for quite some time, most likely in an effort to spare him any reason to worry about him while traveling and unable to do much to help. At least Meng Yao is aware, and at least he isn’t too afraid of Nie Mingjue’s temper to get right up in his face now when it’s so painfully necessary to drag him back to the present and away from his rage.

“Good. What did you just do to Luo Yi? The whole office could hear you shouting, what was it?” he asks next, all business despite the fact that he’s still crowded up into Nie Mingjue’s space, still practically pinning him against the desk with his body and his fists on his chest despite the differences in their statures. Rather than answering, Nie Mingjue turns Lan Xichen’s phone around to let Meng Yao read a portion of the list Lan Xichen had taken, which he does practically in an instant with just a few flicks of his eyes back and forth. His blank mask finally cracks into the barest hint of a sneer.

“Still think I’m overreacting just because he and I ‘disagree’, Nie Mingjue?” he asks, his tone like acid now, caustic enough that even Lan Xichen is beginning to feel a need to apologize for things that he had absolutely zero part in just to make it stop and keep the peace.

“Don’t rub it in, Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue snaps as he locks the phone and passes it back to Lan Xichen, who hurries to take it and pocket it.

Somehow between one breath and the next there’s a knife in Meng Yao’s hand - just a small one, hardly larger than a pocket knife but it’s still a knife - and he’s pressing the tip of it to Nie Mingjue’s side hard enough to dig a little dent in the silk side-panel of his vest.

“You’ll make it up to me - all those times you made light of the issue with Luo Yi. You’ll apologize to A-Sang for scaring him last night. You’ll go home and clean up and let Xichen help you calm down. And you’ll leave this situation with Wen Ruohan to me.”

Lan Xichen waits with bated breath for Nie Mingjue to get angry again at being ordered around or having a knife pulled on him, but all Nie Mingjue does is take a few deep breaths before he shoves Meng Yao’s hand away from his side with an impatient jerk of his elbow.

“Fine. And you’ll tell me what I need to know about what you’re doing with Wen Ruohan, you’ll call down to HR to personally get Luo Yi’s suspension and investigation paperwork started, and you’ll come over after work to spend the night again.”

Meng Yao narrows his eyes and even though he’s watching him carefully now Lan Xichen still can’t see how he makes the knife disappear to wherever it had come from.

“Fine.”

Lan Xichen blinks as Nie Mingjue suddenly leans down to catch Meng Yao’s lips in a kiss that looks downright painful to seal their..strange sort of bargain, though it doesn’t last longer than a heartbeat or two before Meng Yao breaks away to cross the office and let himself out again without another backwards glance.

There’s nothing but silence between Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue for a few long minutes broken only by the sound of phones ringing and papers rustling out in the rest of the office, slightly muffled.

“What..” Lan Xichen starts when he feels like he can talk again but he finds that he actually isn’t sure how to word his questions. Actually, he can’t even pin down what he wants to know first.

“I’ve told you,” Nie Mingjue starts, sounding darkly amused. “He’s terrifying but no one seems willing to understand that but me and Huaisang. Let’s go, best to stay out of his way today.”

“How are you feeling?”

Nie Mingjue sighs and rubs at his face with both hands as Lan Xichen turns to stand in front of him and loop his arms cautiously around his waist. He’s in the same spot Meng Yao had just vacated but his attitude is entirely different, entreating and concerned where Meng Yao’s had been...well. Not that.

“Tired. He’s right, I didn’t sleep. Huaisang must have told him.”

“Mm. We should go home then, hm? It will be alright.”

“Yeah, let’s go home,” Nie Mingjue says, shoulders finally slumping as he caves and lets the last of his immediate anger drain out of him.

Getting out of the office is surprisingly painless - everyone seems very inclined to keep out of the way even though it’s clear that Nie Mingjue is no longer so furious. Lan Xichen is once again made uneasy by his boyfriend’s habit of yelling when it so clearly makes others around him uncomfortable, but it’s an issue that goes deeper than anything Lan Xichen can help him with and so he just has to make his peace with it and offer the few people who watch them go smiles that he hopes are comforting.

The mess upon entering the house is immediate and...widespread. The living room and kitchen are both in complete disarray and Lan Xichen can easily imagine how the mess extends to other parts of the house Nie Mingjue may have encountered in his fury the previous night.

“Oh A-Jue,” he sighs, the seldom-used endearment slipping easily from his lips in his worry.

“Don’t. I know,” Nie Mingjue replies instantly as he drops his keys in their spot on the remarkably unscathed hall table before he picks his way over the shattered remains of..something ceramic, Lan Xichen has no idea what it had been before it had been reduced to nothing but a pile of shards and dust in the middle of the entryway.

“Don’t take your shoes off, there’s glass and porcelain everywhere, not just right here.”

“Mm. I will clean it, you should sleep.”

“Xichen-”

“Mingjue,” he interrupts as he seldom does, but his voice is soft and his hands even softer as he rests them on Nie Mingjue’s back to begin gently nudging him in the direction of the stairs. “You are in no state to continue being awake, let alone clean this up. I will help you fall asleep and then I will clean whatever messes I find. You can help when you wake.”

Nie Mingjue heaves another sigh but he acquiesces without further argument - he’s always exhausted after one of his episodes, Lan Xichen knows, which makes it easy to lovingly bully him upstairs and out of his work clothes to get straight into bed. Lan Xichen kisses him and strokes his hair back from his forehead until he drifts off, and after a moment of waiting to make sure he’s actually sleeping he leaves to start cleaning, beginning with the entry hall and working his way further into the house from there.

He has no idea how things turned around so quickly from the happy haze of the previous day, but he trusts that between the three of them - plus Nie Huaisang, perhaps, if he admits he’s shrewder than he lets on - they’ll be able to solve any problems that come their way.

One way or another.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #Nie Mingjue #Lan Xichen #Meng Yao #Modern AU #@everyone who has also read AEM and possibly remembers how I like to drop drama in at random - HAHAHAHA #@everyone who hasn't and didn't know that about me yet - same thing lol #No but seriously what are we looking at here:#double AU time - modern corporate AU where these dinner appointments are like discussion conferences #and what I think would happen if Meng Yao had been free to be himself very early on #also - Luo Yi is 100% the dickhead guard captain from canon or he at least serves the same function #only this time he gets caught out and obviously MY doesn't murder him #I'm not necessarily turning this into a retelling of the sunshot campaign!! I just love the flow of it as a storytelling device #Anywayyyyyy hope y'all like it #I'm finishing up my semester of school and it's very suddenly crunch time and since I'm in art school I'm constantly using my creativity #for non-writing things as well #but don't worry I'm not actually slowing down all that much haha #okay these tags are getting long sorry thank you for reading!

40 notes · View notes

spockandawe · 3 years

Text

mmm, thinking about the guanyin temple scene, and the things jin guangyao finally says once people corner him.

Wei Wuxian laughed from anger, staring at Su She. “Have I ever done anything to you? I didn’t see you as an enemy— I didn’t even know you!”

Jin Guangyao said, “Wei-gongzi, shouldn’t you be the one who knows this best? Would you be safe just because you didn’t see him as an enemy? How could that be? In this world, everyone begins without enemies. Yet someone eventually moves to strike that first blow.”

and we only see a sliver of his childhood, but like, in just that TINY moment, first

The woman said, “Oh, why would I lie to you about something like this? Her son is running errands for us right now. There, that’s him.” The woman twisted her waist, waving at a boy holding a tray. “Xiao-Meng! Come here!”

The boy did as he was told and walked over. “Anxin-jie, what is it?”

All at once, Wei Wuxian understood everything.

The clients studied Meng Yao with judgmental eyes. Meng Yao asked again, “Am I needed for something?”

Anxin grinned. “Xiao-Meng, are you still learning all those things lately?”

Meng Yao paused. “Which things?”

Anxin said, “The things your mother wants you to learn, like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going?”

Before she even finished, the clients began to chuckle as if they thought something was funny. Anxin turned around. “Don’t laugh, I’m telling the truth. His mom’s raising him like a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him to read and write, bought him all sorts of swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.”

A client exclaimed, “Send him to school? Did I hear wrong?”

“No! Xiao-Meng, tell these gongzis. You’ve gone to the library before, haven’t you?”

The client asked, “Is he still going?”

Anxin said, “Nah, he came back just a few days later. He refused to go back, no matter what. Xiao-Meng, did you not like studying, or did you not like the place?”

Meng Yao didn’t say anything. Anxin giggled, poking a red-painted finger at his forehead, “Little one, are you angry?”

She pressed quite hard. A light, red mark appeared in the center of Meng Yao’s forehead, almost like a shadow of a vermillion mark. He touched his forehead. “No…”

an adult woman makes a point of calling him over just so she and her clients can laugh at his expense. and then moments later

Suddenly, someone screamed. The sound of cups and saucers shattering came from the second floor as a guqin crashed down, smashing to pieces as it hit landed in the hall. It scared the wits out of the people enjoying themselves at the nearby tables. Anxin stood, almost tripping, yelling, “What happened?!”

Meng Yao cried, “A-Niang!”

Anxin looked up. A burly man dragged a woman out of a room by her hair. Anxin tugged the sleeve of the client next to her. It was unclear whether she was nervous or excited. “She’s at it again!”

Meng Yao rushed upstairs. The woman covered her head, trying her hardest to pull her clothes up her shoulders. As she saw Meng Yao run over, she hurriedly cried, “I told you not to come upstairs! Go down! Go down this instant!”

As Meng Yao tried to peel away the client’s hands from his mother, he was kicked in the stomach and rolled down the stairs, causing a wave of exclamations.

This was the third time Wei Wuxian had seen him kicked down a flight of stairs.

The woman screamed as the client grabbed her by the hair again, dragging her all the way downstairs, where he stripped her and threw her onto the street. He spat on her naked body, cursing, “Hags do nothing but haggle— This old whore thinks she’s fresh meat!”

he watches his mother get physically attacked and thrown naked into the streets, just because she tried to get decent payment for her work. and he’s kicked down the stairs for trying to help her

After the kick, Meng Yao hadn’t been able to get up, and was still lying on the ground. The lady grabbed one person with each hand and dragged away both the mother and son.

that’s so much unnecessary cruelty! in such a small time! and it’s not like everything is magically fixed once he enters the cultivation world, he still has to deal with all the pointing and laughing, getting kicked down the stairs of jinlintai when he just tried to present himself to his father, the gossip without regard for whether he can hear it, people wiping their hands after they accept a cup from him, madam jin beating him, hearing his father drunkenly talk about how his mother was such a huge pain in the ass, and he didn’t want to support her because it would have been annoying. there was so much suffering that he never ““asked”” for in any sense.

and given the ways that wei wuxian and jin guangyao are parallels for each other, especially in terms of the hardships they endure, i definitely think it’s both interesting and important that the story repeatedly emphasizes 1) wei wuxian’s terrible memory, and 2) jin guangyao’s perfect memory.

Wei Wuxian knew that ‘for once’ referred to how his memory had been good, for once. He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t always be so angry about it. It was my fault before, alright? Besides, my terrible memory is thanks to my mother.”

Wei Wuxian propped his arm on Lil’ Apple’s head, spinning Chenqing in his hand. “She said you have to remember the things others do for you, not the things you do for others. Only when people don’t hold so much in their hearts will they finally feel free.”

This was one of the only things he remembered about his parents.

Jin Guangyao could remember the name, title, age, and appearance of any person after just one encounter. Even years later, he’d be able to greet them without any fault, and carry out a solicitous conversations as well. If he’d seen someone more than twice, he would remember all of their likes and dislikes, and would therefore be able to cater to their needs.

there’s a lot at play in the different ways that the two of them react to the suffering they lived through, but that line about ‘someone always moves to strike that first blow’ really stuck with me. preemptive hostility doesn’t feel like wei wuxian’s style in general (post-burial-mounds ptsd excluded), but the difference in how they react to being singled out and mistreated is really striking. madam yu hits wei wuxian for being shirtless in the summer heat, even though everyone else was too, and when there’s a quiet moment he’s kind of :(( over ‘why is it always ME’, but he gets distracted in like two seconds, and pushes it all away. jin guangyao can compartmentalize like a motherfucker, and even as a child, he’s good at keeping a smile on his face no matter what, but he isn’t able to forget.

i don’t have a clean-cut conclusion to come to, only that i’m a picky binch when it comes to how people characterize jin guangyao’s actions. this is a story where i personally struggle a lot with how badly these characters hurt each other, and how sympathetic i am to all of their motivations. i find the story agonizing, in a lot of very good ways, and i’m constantly overflowing with thoughts about how jin guangyao specifically parallels the people around him, and how his actions compare and contrast to the decisions those other people make. rereading the flashback sequences was one of the most painful parts of this whole reread process, and then the guanyin temple scene in general hurt way much more than i was expecting. for the most part, i have too many feelings screaming for attention right now to do justice to any of them, but this particular character note jumped out at me, and i felt compelled to share.

#mdzs #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #long post/

444 notes · View notes

ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt 20 / on AO3

(posting early this week because I might not have time tomorrow)(also, because of the upcoming xisang week, I’m not sure yet if I’ll update this fic next week)

With some help from Su She, Nie Huaisang gets his wangxian ship sailing.

Nie Huaisang guiltily twisted his hands as they left the classroom, already half crying as Wei Wuxian finished retelling his first day of punishment with Lan Wangji.

"I really am so sorry, Wei-xiong!" he lamented. "I really wish I could help you. Maybe if I could find a way to copy part of the rules for you and pass them to you…"

"Lan er-gongzi would surely notice," Meng Yao softly objected. "And then you'd both be punished again."

"Aren't you busy enough with your own punishment anyway?" Jiang Cheng huffed. "You'll be lucky if you can even attend your music lessons with all that extra homework you were given, right?"

With a miserable sigh, Nie Huaisang nodded. Cheating was more work than he'd thought, and he'd have to find a better way to do it if he were to pass that year. Though really, it had been Lan Wangji’s fault for joining the lectures, which he hadn't done the previous year, and also Wei Wuxian's for taunting Lan Wangji by looking at him. Of course Lan Wangji had gotten curious, and he'd noticed the cheating, and…

For some reason, Lan Qiren had decided that Wei Wuxian was the instigator in this business, so he'd been punished the hardest. But Nie Huaisang had been given a lot of essays to write, and he didn't dare to ask Lan Xichen to help, fearing to be scolded for his dishonesty. Meng Yao and Jiang Cheng, who hadn't cheated at all, offered little sympathy and even less help, the first because he was still catching up, the second because he didn't feel like it. Hopefully Su She might give a hand, if Nie Huaisang cried a little.

"It's really not so bad," Wei Wuxian said carelessly. "I won't say that first afternoon in the library with Lan Zhan was fun, he's even more boring than his uncle, but I think I can entertain myself. I bet before the month is over, I can get him to break his self control. Now that'd be fun!"

Nie Huaisang stopped on his tracks and grabbed him by the arm, not a trace of tears in his eyes.

"Wei-xiong, why do you have to antagonise him so much?"

"Why wouldn't I? I'd like to be his friend, but he's too stuck up. Pissing him off is the next best thing."

Baffled by that logic, Nie Huaisang looked at their two friends. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, while Meng Yao was trying his best not to smile.

"Wei gongzi is like that, don't question it too much. He likes to tease people, and thinks everyone understands it's meant in a friendly manner."

Judging by the tone of his voice, Meng Yao himself had been a victim of that friendly teasing, and that perhap it hadn't gone so smoothly between them. That would explain why Meng Yao seemed to prefer Jiang Cheng's company, who was less fun to have around, but also a little quieter when he wasn’t shouting at Wei Wuxian.

Personally, Nie Huaisang preferred Wei Wuxian out of the three, but was getting a little annoyed at him right at that moment.

While Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao went their way to enjoy their freedom for the rest of the day (they would waste it studying, they seemed the type), Nie Huaisang decided to accompany Wei Wuxian all the way to the library, so they could chat a little. He still had a plan to put in motion, orders from his future self to obey, and his own natural desire for fun to satisfy.

“I don’t understand why you’re like that with Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said as they took the longest path possible toward the library, trying to keep his tone casual. "If you want to be his friend, there are better ways. Why don't you talk to him nicely?"

Wei Wuxian did not even hesitate. "I've tried, and he ignores me."

That was sadly true, as Nie Huaisang had seen a few times. It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian naturally sounded like he was trying to tease people, even when he was sincere. He was so fun to have around that most people didn’t mind it, but for someone like Lan Wangji...

"Well maybe if you apologised to him?" Nie Huaisang suggested.

"I've tried that too, but he thinks I'm insincere.”

"Because you are!" Nie Huaisang pointed out, fighting a smile.

Wei Wuxian just laughed, but that was an answer in itself.

"Please, at least don't make him any angrier," Nie Huaisang pleaded. "He'll never be your friend otherwise!"

Hearing him get so distressed about that, Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, his expression more serious than Nie Huaisang had ever seen so far. He was a little scary like that, something about his height and the shape of his eyes making him look cold and distant when he wasn’t grinning and laughing.

"Listen, Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice that had lost some of its warmth. “I want to be his friend, sure. I think there's something interesting about him, definitely. I’d really like it if I could be close to Lan Zhan, and given the chance I’ll do it for sure. But if he only becomes friends with me because I start acting like someone I'm not, then we're not really friends, and it's not worth the effort."

“Wei-xiong, I didn’t expect you to be wise like that,” Nie Huaisang whispered, a little awed.

“Only you would find that wise,” Wei Wuxian mocked, and Nie Huaisang found that he could breathe a little more easily now that the other boy was laughing again. “If Jiang Cheng heard me, he’d say that my personality is too awful for anyone to like me! And Meng Yao would say something about compromises. I’m pretty sure they’re the wise ones, but I just don’t feel like acting so seriously.”

Nie Huaisang grinned, a little envious of such a bold way of living. He was not always likeable, according to a lot of people (himself included, when it came to the man he was supposed to become), and so he would never have expected people to fully like him as he was. Nobody except his brother, who had little choice in the matter, and maybe Su She who probably felt like he couldn’t be too picky when it came to friends, and… well, Lan Xichen seemed to like him as he was, too, but that was just because he was so nice.

It was so bold of Wei Wuxian to expect to be fully accepted as he was. But then again, Lan Wangji also wasn’t the sort to make efforts to get others to like him, so at least they had that in common.

As they arrived near the library, the topic had to be dropped. Wei Wuxian, with a grimace of fake agony, went inside to sit with Lan Wangji, while Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of finding Su She about to leave the library, and free to spend some time with him. Lan Wangji had asked for his help to put some order in a section of the building while waiting for Wei Wuxian to arrive, and Su She couldn’t decide if he was flattered or annoyed that the request had been made to him rather than another disciple.

Su She ranted about that for a little bit as they walked away from the library, before complaining about his classes, and then about a letter from his mother who wanted him to send home some talismans because she was still convinced their house was haunted even thought he’d visited during winter and hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Nie Huaisang listened, and even reacted here and there, but couldn’t quite focus on his friend’s problem that day. Su She noticed of course, and asked what hung so heavy on his mind that he couldn’t even laugh at his description of a clearly fake haunting.

“I might have a silly question to ask you,” Nie Huaisang replied. “But please, don’t make fun of me for it. It’s kind of important, and I think you could really help me.”

“That sounds very worrying, but fine, ask me.”

"How would one seduce a Lan?"

Su She gave him such a long, serious look, that Nie Huaisang started feeling he’d rather have been laughed at after all.

"So you're finally doing something about Lan gongzi?” Su She asked. “About time, it was getting annoying how clueless you are. And, well, if you want my opinion…"

"Oh, no, this is about Lan Wangji, not Xichen-gege!"

Su She stopped walking and fell silent for a moment, his expression turning complicated. He looked as if he’d eaten a very sour lemon that also happened to be moldy, all while there was a cut in his mouth.

"Lan er-gongzi? Really?"

"Yes. See, I think Wei-xiong and him could be good friends,” Nie Huaisang quickly explained, startled by that strong reaction, “so of course I want to help. But they're the two most difficult people in the world, you know? Xichen-gege is helping, but a second opinion never hurts."

"Ah, it's just that," Su She said, instantly relaxing.

He resumed walking away from the library, and Nie Huaisang followed.

"Well, yeah. Why did you think I needed help about Xichen-gege?"

Su She hesitated, and even opened his mouth a few times to say something. Eventually he frowned and shrugged.

"If you're too stupid, it's not my problem,” he said. “Let's talk about those other two instead, since you’re so preoccupied. Aside from being equally good at fighting, what do they have in common?"

Nie Huaisang crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head.

"Nothing at all."

Su She nodded.

"Then I guess they need to fight again. Maybe in public."

"You think that'd help if they had an audience?" Nie Huaisang wondered.

"No idea,” Su She said with a wicked grin, “but I'd like to see Lan er-gongzi in a fight that makes him break a sweat."

Nie Huaisang poked him in the ribs.

"Mean. But… Wei-xiong can be pretty full of himself,” he admitted. “I guess I'd also like to see if he's as good as he thinks. How to get them to fight though?"

They’d reached a more isolated part of the Cloud Recesses, a small garden that rarely saw much use, just at the border to the wilderness. They found a bench, and after removing some dead leaves they sat there to continue chatting in peace.

"In two days, you get a day off from lectures, right?” Su She asked. “Get your Wei-xiong to the training grounds after lunch. Lan er-gongzi is always there at that time on a free day, and I'll do my best to be as well. It'll be pretty easy to get them to spar."

"Su-xiong you're just the best!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, hugging his friend who barely even grumbled against such effusions. “What would I do without you?"

"You'd be less efficient for sure. Now can we talk about something less boring than Lan er-gongzi?”

“Yes, yes! Tell me more about your parents’ haunting, I’ll really listen now! If it’s not a ghost, then what is it?”

Pleased to return to a more fun subject, Su She started discussing his theory about some wild cats and a few squirrels that he suspected to have found their way into the currently disused ‘haunted’ room, and talked about it with such indignation that Nie Huaisang was soon in tears from how hard he laughed.

Although nobody had been warned of the duel to come, a small crowd had quickly assembled around the training grounds once it became understood that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were having a friendly fight. They were both reputed to be insanely skilled after all, and rumours about their first duel under the moonlight had spread fast.

So far, Nie Huaisang had to admit that both boy's reputation was deserved. If anything, they were both more talented than he would have expected. They exchanged blows and parried them as if it were easier than breathing, making for a beautiful show. Su She, who stood on Nie Huaisang's right at the very edge of the training grounds, appeared consumed with admiration and envy. He'd fallen silent a while ago, and perhaps regretted this fight he'd helped organise.

On Nie Huaisang's left, Jin Zixuan was almost as upset, just a little better at concealing it.

"I can't believe such talent has been wasted and given to the world's most obnoxious person," he complained as Wei Wuxian dodged a blow.

"Apparently, that's also Lan Wangji’s opinion," Nie Huaisang cheerfully replied. "But I think he's warming up to Wei-xiong now."

Lan Wangji, after a moment of surprise at the way Wei Wuxian had avoided his attack, lunged at him again with renewed vigour.

"Yes, I can see they're on their way to becoming best friends," Jin Zixuan sneered. "Well, that's getting boring. I was hoping to see Wei Wuxian put in his place, but now he's just going to be more insufferable. I'll see you later, Nie gongzi."

He left, but the spot next to Nie Huaisang didn't remain empty for very long. Lan Xichen quickly made his way there. Nie Huaisang immediately smiled at him, but unlike the rest of them, Lan Xichen didn't appear to pleased by the show.

"Huaisang what's going on here?" he asked. "What are they fighting about? Did something happen?"

"Oh they're just fighting for the sake of it!" Nie Huaisang cheerfully explained, only for Lan Xichen to look even more distressed.

"Wangji got into a fight without reason? How?"

Alerted by his tone, Su She tore his eyes from the fight and gave Lan Xichen a quick bow.

"Lan gongzi needs not worry. They're not actually fighting, this is only a friendly spar."

"Yes, we thought it'd be good for them, so we made it happen," Nie Huaisang confirmed. “I think it’s going great! Wei-xiong looks like he’s having the time of his life!”

Reassured that no rules were broken and no serious harm was intended by either party, Lan Xichen finally properly looked at the ongoing duel. He observed the two fighters for a moment before eventually nodding.

“Wangji too is enjoying this,” he said after some consideration. “I’m glad for him. It is so rare for him to get an opponent of his level. Other juniors are rarely a match, and adults won’t spar with him because they don’t want to lose to someone so young. You had a good idea, Huaisang.”

“Oh, that wasn’t even my idea,” Nie Huaisang replied, beaming. “It was Su-xiong who suggested it, and who asked to see them spar.”

Lan Xichen turned his attention to Su She, who appeared a little uncomfortable. Nie Huaisang realised, a little late, that scheming to make people fight, even in a friendly manner, was probably against some of Gusu Lan rules.

“I am glad you have such a good friend helping you set your plan in motion,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Still, don’t drag him into too much mischief. I would be very disappointed in you, Huaisang, if you caused Su-shidi to get in trouble. He’s worked so hard to prove himself to our teachers, let’s not ruin his efforts just because you like to have a little too much fun.”

“Of course not!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “Su-xiong, you wouldn’t let me cause you real problems, right?”

“I only agree with Nie gongzi’s ideas if they don’t contradict the rules,” Su She confirmed, bowing again toward Lan Xichen. “And I wouldn’t let Nie gongzi do anything dangerous or ill-advised. Lan gongzi can be at peace, I won’t let anything happen to his friend.”

Lan Xichen smiled stiffly.

"I know I can trust Su-shidi to take good care of Nie gongzi. I am… quite happy to leave him in your hands, where I know he'll be safe."

It was a rather odd way to say that, and there was something a little too cold in Lan Xichen’s tone which did not quite please Nie Huaisang. But Su She himself seemed unbothered, so this might just have been Nie Huaisang imagining things. It was probably just that Lan Xichen still remained doubtful regarding Lan Wangji’s potential friendship with Wei Wuxian, which had to affect his mood.

But things really were going quite well. In fact, they were going much better than Nie Huaisang had hoped. After fighting a little more, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian eventually stopped when a Lan teacher approached them to explain that he needed the training grounds for his own class. There didn’t appear to be a clear winner between them, as far as Nie Huaisang could say. Later, when he asked Su She, his friend gave his more expert opinion that although they had completely different fighting styles, they were equals in strength and capacity. It would be interesting, he said, to see them fight side by side instead of against each other.

For now though, they politely bowed to each other, and Wei Wuxian, grinning more brightly than Nie Huaisang had ever seen him yet, asked if they might train together again in the future.

It was quite funny to see Lan Wangji’s conflicted expression. On one hand, Wei Wuxian was nearly a criminal in his eyes, who had disrespected his uncle, broken many rules, and cheated during an exam, all of which was unforgivable and marked Wei Wuxian as beneath his consideration. But at the same time, this looked to have been a very fun sparring session, Lan Wangji had been forced to use all his skill to keep up with his opponent, and that was something too precious to be easily dismissed.

At a loss, Lan Wangji turned to look at his brother, hoping for guidance. Lan Xichen, in turn, only briefly glanced at Nie Huaisang before nodding at his brother with an encouraging smile.

“Behave in class,” Lan Wangji ordered with a slight frown, before turning away.

Wei Wuxian looked disappointed by what he must have mistaken for rejection, but Nie Huaisang saw that answer for what it was and ran to his friend to explain that Lan Wangji had, in fact, very warmly agreed to fight him again.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #double time travel #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

33 notes · View notes

antebunny · 3 years

Text

Wei Wuxian, worst supervillain: part 2

Full series here.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian, with the urgency of a doomed man. “You gotta help me.”

“What’s the problem?” Wen Ning says immediately.

“Absolutely not,” Wen Qing says, without looking up from her book.

She’s sitting comfortably on the single couch in Wei Wuxian’s so-called villain lair. In reality, he couldn’t afford anywhere else, and the Burial Mounds are rent-free and neighborless. She still made Wei Wuxian buy the red couch, and it remains the only splash of color in the whole complex.

Wei Wuxian pauses, his palms still slammed down on the creaking table in the center of the room. Wen Ning continues mixing his tea. “Okay, first off,” he says, mortally offended, “you didn’t even know what I was going to say. And second, I wasn’t even asking you!”

“I’m answering for A-Ning,” Wen Qing says calmly.

“Wen Ning is a free man!” Wei Wuxian argues. “He can make his own decisions!”

“What do you need help with?” Wen Ning intervenes, dragging Wei Wuxian’s attention away from the argument.

“I’m not being taken seriously!” Wei Wuxian wails.

Wen Qing snorts. “Why would I?”

“I didn’t mean you,” Wei Wuxian says, once more mortally offended. “I mean the superheroes! They’re not taking me seriously as a villain! Last time I robbed the national bank, they just sent Lan Zhan, and we didn’t even fight!”

“Right,” Wen Qing says drily. “You just debated philosophy for two hours.”

“He had some interesting points,” Wei Wuxian mutters sulkily. “What was I supposed to do, just not debate him?”

“Yes,” says Wen Qing.

“I can’t just ignore Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian says belligerently. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be concerned? If the superheroes don’t take me seriously, how am I supposed to secure the safety of your family? If I just rescue them the government will never stop hunting them!”

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “It’s not my fault you chose the stupidest way to go about it. Now both of your siblings are mad at you.”

Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to retort and then pauses. “Okay, but,” he tries, “it’s too late now! After last Friday–”

“There were easier ways to explain to Meng Yao where he got his psychic powers from,” Wen Qing notes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Both Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning flush bright red.

“–the truth, Meng Yao,” the Yiling Patriarch said melodramatically, and his black coat billowed out behind him as he stalked towards Meng Yao.

The young man scrambled backwards over the rubble of the destroyed convenience store, his honey eyes wide with fear at the sight of the masked supervillain loomed over him. He was the communications director for the superheroes before all this happened, but during this fight Wei Wuxian had noticed his fledgling psychic powers and looked at the young man, who happened to look eerily similar to Jin Zixuan, and realized what was going on.

“They never told you what happened to your father,” Wei Wuxian continued, easily cornering Meng Yao.

Back in the Burial Mounds, Wen Ning leaned towards his computer like he could merge into the scene. His fingers flew across the keys, as he suddenly remembered some quote about a father that would be perfect for this situation. If only he could get to his list of villain phrases fast enough–

Wei Wuxian paused as the line flashed in front of his eyes, projected by his mask. Without registering the words, he read it out loud. “I am your father!”

Meng Yao stopped cowering.

The Yiling Patriarch stopped stalking dramatically. “Ah, fuck,” he said, his pointed finger drooping. “Wait–I meant–”

Two superheroes landed on the pile of rubble beside Meng Yao.

“Darth Vader, The Empire Strikes Back,” Hanguang-jun said confidently.

“How are you so fucking stupid,” Sandu Shengshou said, almost wonderingly. Bright purple lightning crackled around his fingertips.

“Shut up, I don’t know you!” The Yiling Patriarch cried. “I meant Jin Guangshan! I meant Jin Guangshan!”

“I think Zewu-jun’s handling it,” Wei Wuxian says evasively.

Wen Qing snorts. “Sure.”

“The point is they’re not taking me seriously!” Wei Wuxian insists. “Wen Ning, what can I do to make them take me seriously as a villain?”

“Do something only a villain would do,” Wen Ning suggests.

“Well obviously,” Wei Wuxian says. “But what?” He pulls out the chair across from Wen Ning and plonks himself down in it. They both ponder this question.

“Maybe you could kidnap a hero?” Wen Ning suggests.

Wei Wuxian brightens. “That’s a great idea! But who?”

“Oh my God,” Wen Qing mutters from her comfy seat on the couch.

“Not Jiang Cheng, he’d kill me,” Wei Wuxian muses. He props his chin up with one hand. “And I don’t want to kidnap someone who’d get actually scared…Lan Zhan! Perfect. I’ll kidnap their precious Hanguang-jun. Then they’ll have to take me seriously!”

"Kill me now," Wen Qing groans.

When Lan Wangji wakes up to see the Yiling Patriarch looming over him, he thinks he’s still dreaming for one embarrassing moment. He’s glad he recognizes his mistake, or he would’ve said or done something mortifying that he prefers not to think about.

“Good morning, Lan Zhan!” The Yiling Patriarch says, grinning evilly. “You are in the lair of the Yiling Patriarch.”

Lan Wangji sits up. He’s on a soft red couch, wrapped in at least three blankets. Other than that, the large room is rather sparse; the walls are plain stone, as is the floor, save for a threadbare rug on top of which a rickety old table sits, with four chairs of varying styles situated around it.

“How does it feel to know you’ve been kidnapped by your worst enemy?” The Yiling Patriarch says gleefully.

He leans closer, and Lan Wangji swallows, his throat dry. It seems that the Yiling Patriarch forgeos his high-collar black coat when he’s at home. He’s currently wearing a baggy black shirt and black ripped jeans, which means that when Lan Wangji looks up, he’s looking directly at his collarbone, then up at his jawline, and then at the bottom half of his face. As he leans in, his lips curve in a wicked smile, and no, Lan Wangji not thinking about his forearms, or those beautiful, slender hands–

“How does it feel knowing you’ve been rendered powerless?” The Yiling Patriarch continues. His silver eyes track the movement of Lan Wangji’s throat. “Are you uncomfortable?” He asks worriedly. “This place has no heating–you know, free rent, that’s how it is–and I didn’t have anywhere else to put you, but I thought I brought enough blankets. Do you want tea? I can make tea!”

And the Yiling Patriarch bustles off, throwing a “Be right back! Don’t go anywhere!” over his shoulder.

Lan Wangji pushes the blankets off. “I am quite comfortable,” he says to himself. Perhaps he could’ve said it earlier, but he wasn’t going to dissuade the Yiling Patriarch from making him tea.

The Yiling Patriarch returns with two cups of jasmine tea, and invites Lan Wangji to take a seat at his table.

“Sorry about the chairs, they’re kinda falling apart,” the Yiling Patriarch says. “I got them at a yard sale. Well, four different yard sales, so none of them match.”

“It is fine,” Lan Wangji says.

“Right, right.” The Yiling Patriarch clears his throat, and pushes one teacup towards Lan Wangji. “Anyway. I thought it was time I proved my worth as a villain, don’t you think?” He leans back in his chair. One of the chair legs squeaks.

“You could always retire,” Lan Wangji suggests.

The Yiling Patriarch’s casual smile drops. “Not until I’ve done what I set out to do,” he says seriously. He pulls up his villain smile again. “Though I’m sure you heroes must be eager for me to retire, hm?”

“I am worried one day you might be seriously injured,” Lan Wangji replies.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” the Yiling Patriarch says, shaking his head. “The tragedy is not to die, but to be wasted. I have so much–”

“Hannibal Lecter,” says Lan Wangji.

The Yiling Patriarch scowls at him. “Stop doing that. As I was saying, I have so much to do, and so little time on this earth. If I must turn to villany to accomplish my goals, then I will. You cannot debate me into giving up my pursuits.”

“Why must you turn to villainy?” Lan Wangji asks. He drinks his tea. It’s over boiled, but still the best tea he’s ever had.

“Because otherwise, nobody listens,” the Yiling Patriarch says. “You think I didn’t try the proper way first?”

“No doubt you tried,” says Lan Wangji. “Nevertheless: what are your goals? Why do you hide your face? Who are you protecting?”

The Yiling Patriarch slams his teacup down. “You want the truth?” He pauses. “You can’t handle the truth!”

Lan Wangji sips his tea. “Colonel Nathan Jessup, A Few Good Men.”

“Stop doing that!” The Yiling Patriarch cries. He stands up and shakes his finger very threateningly at Lan Wangji. “You seem to have forgotten that you have been kidnapped, Lan Zhan.”

“I have not,” Lan Wangji says. The location leaves something to be desired, but other than that he thinks it’s a very fine first date.

“Then–! Don’t forget who holds the power in this situation!”

“Mhm,” Lan Wangji agrees. He sips his tea again. “Thank you for the tea.”

“O-oh, of course,” the Yiling Patriarch says, thrown. He sits down again. “You seemed like a no sugar type of person.” He pauses. “I mean, if you want sugar, I have some in the pantry. I think. Unless we ran out.”

“No need,” Lan Wangji says. He is, in fact, a no-sugar type of person.

“That’s good,” the Yiling Patriarch says. He smiles at Lan Wangji, who almost smiles back, heart set aflutter by the gentle smile on the Yiling Patriarch’s face.

“What is your plan?” Lan Wangji asks.

“My plan?” The Yiling Patriarch echoes, thrown once more. “I mean, my villainous plan! Uh. The one that I have.”

“Is this all for your image?” Lan Wangji presses.

“Of course,” the Yiling Patriarch says immediately. “You know me. Vanity, definitely my favorite sin.”

“John Milton, The Devil’s Advocate.”

“Shut up! I can’t believe you memorized all these quotes,” the Yiling Patriarch bemoans. “Lan Zhan, you’re ruining all my fun.”

Lan Wangji sips his tea again. “I am quite capable of research.”

“I’ll say,” he mutters.

“It is not too late to turn back,” Lan Wangji says, trying for once to put the turmoil of emotion he feels into his tone. “We can still put old wounds behind us. I can help you.”

The Yiling Patriarch slumps against his table. “Can we?” He asks, subdued. “After all, our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real.”

“Hannibal Lecter again,” says Lan Wangji.

“Fuck you! Hannibal Lecter is a good villain!” The Yiling Patriarch swells belligerently.

“And you,” Lan Wangji says calmly, “are not a very convincing villain.”

“What do you mean?” The Yiling Patriarch demands. “I kidnapped a hero! Only villains do that!” He sweeps one arm across the situation, gesturing at the hot jasmine tea and the pile of blankets on the couch behind them, and at Lan Wangji, seated primly on the old wooden chair provided for him. “This is a kidnapping!”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji says.

“I am a supervillain!” The Yiling Patriarch insists. “There’s no coming back from that. I destroyed a skyscraper last week. I’ve cost the government too much money for them to ever forgive me. There’s no way for you to redeem me!”

“There is nothing to redeem,” Lan Wangji says sharply.

The Yiling Patriarch flinches. When he stops, his expression is scraped raw. “R-right,” he says shakily. “O-of course–”

“I meant there is nothing to redeem, because you are already good,” Lan Wangji says hurriedly, realizing the misinterpretation of his statement.

The Yiling Patriarch pauses, mouth half open. “Lan Zhan, there’s no way for you to know that,” he croaks. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I do,” Lan Wangji says quietly. “And I don’t need to.” He hesitates, then reaches for the Yiling Patriarch's hand. He grips it tight, and the Yiling Patriarch lets him. “You are good.”

The Yiling Patriarch draws in a shaky breath. “Wei Ying,” he blurts. “Courtesy Wuxian. That’s. My name.”

Lan Wangji can feel the corners of his lips curve into a smile. “Wei Ying,” he repeats. “Wei Ying, you are good.”

#antebunny's ficlets #my writing #writeblr #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wen qing #wen ning #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian

94 notes · View notes

scarletjedi · 3 years

Text

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fixit AU but make it Mingcheng

@piyo-13

Part 1

Part 2A

PART 2B: GUSU UNLEASHED

Nie Huaisang immediately grabs a piece of blank paper to write a message back to Nie Mingjue, leaving Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian staring at each other. “Well,” Wei Wuxian said after a minute. “Aren’t you going to write to him, too?”

Jiang Cheng startled, he’d been too caught up in Huaisang’s words, “He’s alive!”. He had been prepared to go through the process of meeting Nie Mingjue again, of hopefully catching his attention, of watching A-Jue fall for him the way Jiang Cheng had fallen years ago — that his lover was here, alive, and *knew him* had not had time to process.

Trembling, Jiang Cheng moved from his bed, weak limbs pouring him like water until he was sat up against the table, taking the paper that Huaisang handed him. He stared, blankly. What to *say*?

“Tell him you love him,” Wei Wuxian said from his bed.

“Tsk, he knows that,” Jiang Cheng said with little snap.

“Then tell him you want to fuc—”

“Ah, la la la la!” Nie Huaisang said, covering his ears, and Wei Wuxian fell back laughing. Nie Huaisang winked at him. “Be honest,” he said. “But be short,” he looked down at his own missive. “All of this needs to fit on the bird.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng picked up his brush. After a moment, he put ink to paper, writing in quick, sure strokes. He fanned the paper back and forth a few times to dry the ink faster, and folded the note to hand to Huaisang. Huaisang took it with a grin and ran from the room to send the message back.

“What did you write?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“None of your business.”

Two days later Nie Zonghui would bring the messages to Nie Mingjue, who would open Huaisang’s note, only to have a smaller note fall free. He would pick it up with a small frown before reading Huaisang’s note, smiling — blinking, then reading the note again. “If he put nearly have the effort into studying...” he muttered and Zongui would hide a smile. Then, Mingjue would open the smaller missive, nearly dropping the paper in shock, scrambling to catch it. “Sect Leader?” Zonghui would ask, and when Nie Mingjue looked up, he would be beaming.

Now, Nie Mingjue, who had fought, lead, and won a war, lead a sect, and died a slow, agonizing descent into his greatest fears, finds himself once more at 19, newly made Section Leader, and the clearest minded he’s been in years, without the damage caused by cultivating a war and...well. He wasn’t actually sure *how* Meng Yao managed to kill him, just that he knew he had.

Which was another problem. By this point, Huaisang was safely in Cloud Recesses, but Meng Yao was on his way back to Qinghe. It would take him most of a week to return, traveling on horseback as he was, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what reception Meng Yao should receive.

Meng Yao, long before he was renamed by his father, had acted in ways that were counter to the values of the Nie sect. Even if Nie Mingjue were to overlook the crimes he committed as Jin Guangyao, or the atrocities he participated in as a torturer for Wen Ruohan, his crimes began in Qinghe.

Crimes that, as far as Nie Mingjue was aware, had not yet happened. Even before Meng Yao had used the chaos of an attack to kill the captain of his guardNie, Mingjue was never sure how much Meng Yao spoke was the truth — just knew that at one point he was sure Meng Yao had never lied to him, and then was never sure Meng Yao was not lying.

In his previous life, Nie Mingjue turned most often to Lan Xichen for council, particularly wher Meng— Jin Guangyao was concerned. Then, as years passed, Xichen would turn ever more towards Jin Guangyao first, and Nie Mingjue found himself turning to Jiang Wanyin as their wartime sparring turned to tent-side comfort, to comraderie to courtship.

A-Cheng.

For all that Mingjue had more years of experience leading a sect, Wanyin’s experience was a similar enough trial by fire to grant him insight, and an outsider enough to the triumvirate to offer an outsider’s clarity.

Truly, his love possessed an uncanny wisdom hidden behind brusque words and toothless threats.

He wished for Wanyin’s council now. He wished for his presence. It had already been too long since they had last seen each other before Mingjue made his last, fateful visit to Jinlintai. It would likely be several months, if not years, before their paths would cross once more.

And— he missed his lover as a lover. Wanyin was a beautiful man, strong and proud and fierce and so sweet in private. A joy and a challenge.

Getting Huaisang’s letter was bittersweet because his didi had already suffered so much: even the first time, Mingjue had wanted Hauisang’s youth to be as worry free as possible, to have the freedom to be careless in a way Mingjue never had. And sweet, because it meant that Mingjue wasn’t alone in this.

Getting Wanyin’s message was a blessing and a curse. He had already resigned himself to wait, to reach out to the Jiang Sect in support to save Wanyin his own heartbreak, to court him properly from the beginning. To know that his love was here, and yet still so far out of reach...

Huaisang’s letter boiled down to “plan in motion. Do not engage.” Which...

“Didi,” Nie Mingjue muttered. “What are you doing?”

Because, the thing is, Mingjue would *like* to listen to Huaisang. Mingjue was tired, and doing the right thing was an increasingly difficult and murky task....but Mingjue was also a just and righteous man. Certain actions he would take no matter what...and certain actions he would not.

The facts were thus:

Meng Yao had killed him in a way that was both intensely malicious and duplicitous. (Nie Mingjue was unsure as to his motive. What did Meng Yao gain aside from petty revenge? No, the method was revenge. The act...the act was something different).

Meng Yao had not, as of yet, committed any crime, nor was he currently capable of the technique that had been used to kill Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue could not in good conscience kill a man who had committed no crime, nor could he stand by and allow another to fall off the righteous path when it was within his power to prevent. (Was it within his power?)

So, Nie Mingjue could neither punish Meng Yao for crimes he had not yet committed, nor could was he able to relax in Meng Yao’s presence the way he had the first time around.

...Maybe Huaisang had ideas.

[later] “I can’t believe this!” Huaisang glared at the letter from his brother. Jiang Cheng’s own letter sat in his pocket to be perused later. It felt almost hot, the way his focus continually drifted towards the folded paper, but he knew better than to read his lover’s letter in front of Huaisang. Not if he wanted to keep any pretense to dignity.

“What is it?” he prompted when Huaisang fell silent, re-reading furiously.

“He wants to rehabilitate Meng Yao! His own murderer!”

“Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us,” Jiang Cheng offered. “He’s not the man who killed your brother. Not yet, anyway.”

“You didn’t see—” Huaisang cut himself off, looking away and biting his lip. Jiang Cheng shifted, focusing on the letter to let the heat of its presence chase away the chill of the reminder that when his lover had died, Jiang Cheng wasn’t there.

“A tiger can not change his stripes,” Nie Huaisang muttered, and hid his face behind his fan.

[The discussion over what happens to Meng Yao plays out thusly:

NHS: I don’t want to kill Meng Yao, Da-ge! I just don’t want him alive. Anymore.

NMJ: Didi, no.

NHS: Didi, yes!

Ultimately, NMJ pulls the big brother/sect leader card and says they have time to deal with Meng Yao, and since Meng Yao was currently NMJ’s problem, he would deal with it. NHS threw a tantrum that reminded everyone that yes, NHS is related to NMJ by blood, but finally went: “fine! It’s not like the *whole reason* we came back wasn’t to fuck up all of his shit!” and adjusted his plans again.]

When he goes back to his room, Jiang Cheng finds himself alone. He can bet that Wei Wuxian will be off with Lan Wangji (and no, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why Wei Wuxian hasn’t just moved in with his boyfriend, considering how often he comes skittering into the room just on the wrong side of curfew, mussed and bruised in a very specific way that Jiang Cheng a) wants to know no more about and b)isn’t jealous of, fuck off.), so he has time to read his letter.

Cheng-er,

We never were a pair for letters, you and I, preferring to steal time for each other like a pair of romantic thieves. I regret, now, not making more time to woo and court you properly then — though I fear I already had all you could give — not desire, you showed me your hunger for me readily enough, matched only by my hunger for you — but hours of the day.

I think very fondly of our nights.

This second chance makes me desire to do better, to build you a place in my life from the start, as I hope you build a place for me. We are young, yet, and have time to hope.

I miss you, Wanyin. Cheng-er. Please write to me. A letter is a poor substitute for your fire, but I will cherish even these scraps above silence.

Yours,

A-Jue

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure how long he was there, re-reading the letter, when Wei Wuxian tumbled in, only to stop when he caught sight of Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Cheng! You’re pink!” Wei Wuxian crowed, pointing a finger and laughing at the way Jiang Cheng startled. “Who wrote to you to make you blush? What did he say?”

“None of your business,” Jaing Cheng snapped, tucking the letter away.

A-Jue,

Who gave you the right to write such a letter? Who would believe the NIe Sect leader to be so shameless? You can take a lesson from your brother in poetry if you are planning to continue!

Building a space — as if I did not rebuild my piers with a place for you. As if you had not already crawled into my heart to live.

I lost you once, A-Jue. I will not lose you again.

I await your next letter,

Yours, always,

Cheng-er

Jiang Cheng hands the folded paper to Nie Huaisang, face burning. For once, Nie Huaisang doesn’t tease, doesn’t give him a knowing smirk. Instead, his eyes are kind, and he takes the letter with little fanfare, tucking it neatly into his own missive to be sent off at once.

When the next letter comes, Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother waiting, taking the letter and retreating to the sound of Nie Huaisang’s laughter.

Cheng-er

You want poetry, do you?...

Jiang Cheng’s eyes skip over the page and he gasps aloud, face burning as he looks around to see that no one else is near. To write such things! Shameless! But...oh, how it lights a fire in him, and he’s breathless with his, dizzy with sudden, frustrated want that he cannot satisfy.

In the end, Nie Mingjue was right. The words are a poor substitute, but Jiang Cheng would not trade this letter for anything.

The next morning, Jiang Cheng approaches Wei Wuxian with an idea for a long-distance communication array, one that could be personally powered and used. The reasons he gives are all to do with military strategy, but he needn’t have bothered. The challenge to create something new has Wei Wuxian distracted immediately, and he wanders off to the library mid-sentence.

The next free afternoon they have in Caiyi, Jiang Cheng purchases a wooden box, cleverly built with locking compartments and false bottoms. It is perfectly sized for folded letters.

Time passes. Now that Jiang Cheng has thirteen years of lived experience - and hard years of war and cuthroat sect politics and rebuilding his sect - the lessons aren’t easier, per say, but they have context that he missed the first time. HIs understanding is more in depth, which quickly makes him a favorite of Lan Qiren to call on — even if his actual answer (usually “threaten them with Zidian”) wasn’t the answer he provided in class. Wei Wuxian was also a calmer presence in class - still questioning, still pushing limits, but when Lan Qiren calls on Wei Wuxian to answer his questions, Wei Wuxian’s answers are thoughtful, inventive, but within the bounds of conventionality. Surprisingly, it’s Lan Wangji who suggests solutions that boarder on the heretical — solutions that Jiang Cheng knows come to pass, such as the spirit attraction flags.

It’s enough to make Lan Qiren change colors, and judging by the tiny smirk on LWJ’s face, it’s absolutely deliberate. (The one class that Lan Xichen sits in on is, actually, hilarious, as he seems consistently torn between laughter and exasperation at his brother’s small rebellion).

Nie Huaisang, however, seems to be *genuinely struggling* with the material. So much so that Jiang Cheng takes pity and drags him (and Wangxian) into the library one afternoon to actually study rather than their usual spot by the river where they would refine their plan to keep everyone alive that they actually cared about keeping alive, and killing those who needed killing as efficently as possible. (“That’s a rather blunt way of thinning about this, Jaing Cheng,” WWX said to him. JC had just shrugged. He didn’t see the reason to couch the truth in political double speak when he didn’t have to”)

After an hour or so, Nie Huaisang slumped forward over the table, thumping his forehead against he lacquered wood. “It’s no use. I’m going to have to repeat this year again, *again*”

“I don’t understand it,” Jiang Cheng said. He knew that Huaisang was smart; he figured out Jin Guangyao’s plot, he successfully modified the time travel array — Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he ran Qinghe’s spy rin duing the war, though that had never been confirmed. “I know you know things.”

“I don’t,” he wailed. “I don’t know anything. Don’t ask me.”

“I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning in and keeping his voice low. “But we have a spy in our midst.”

“Those rumors were never proven,” Huaisang said, sniffling.

“Not you,” Wei Wuxian said, and angled his head in a way that he only thought was subtle towards where Jin Zixuan was sitting, stiff and imperious, with an exasperated Luo Qingyang. “He’s been doing that a lot,” he said.

Jiang Cheng watched him for a long moment, trying to remember the frustration he felt with a young Jin Zixuan who hadn’t yet unlearned the smug superiority of Jinlintai...but all he could see was little Jin Ling, awkward from growing up alone and desperately lonely (except Jin Ling had picked up Jiang Cheng’s bad habit of expressing any emotion as anger, and it seemed Zixuan had chosen...smug silence.)

“Aw, crap,” Jiang Cheng muttered, because as soon as he realized it, he knew what he had to do. Pushing himself up, he stalked over to Jin Zixuan, ignoring the hissed complaints of Wei Wuxian, and stared down at him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” Jin Zixuan sneered. Behind him, Luo Qingyang rolled her eyes, and Jiang Cheng huffed.

“Cute. But you got nothing on my mother.” Jin Zixuan blinked, surprise loosening some of the stiffness in his posture. Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng snapped. “Look. You’re not subtle. We see you. So do you want to sit with us or not?” He looked between them. “Both of you.”

Jin Zixuan nodded, then blinked as if surprised at himself. Luo Qingyang stood to salute, but Jiang Cheng waved it off.

“Great, come on,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned around, not waiting to see if they. He sat back in his seat, shifting books to make room. He didn’t really want to sit next to Zixuan, but with Nie Huaisang sprawled over his books and Wei Wuxian practically in Lan Wangji’s lap, it was the only safe place for them.

Nie Huaisang sat back, looking at Jiang Cheng over his fan. “What?” He snapped.

“Softie,” Nie Huaisang said softly, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“He needs to learn, and Luo Qingyang is the only one at Jinlintai right now that I trust,” he muttered.

Wei Ying squinted at Jiang Cheng, as if trying to figure something out, but when Jin Zixuan and Luo Qingyang appeared, he blinked at her, surprised, and perked up in recognition. “Mianmian!”

Which, of course, was the wrong thing to say. Jin Zixuan puffed up, and Lan Wangji hissed a pained Wei Ying, and Nie Huaisang was being no help. So, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes again and translated.

“No offense meant, Lady Luo,” he said. “My brother’s memory for names is notoriously bad, but he means no disrespect by his over familiarity.”

Thankfully Luo Qingyang smiled. “No offence taken, Young Master Jiang. If your offer is genuine, and we are to be friends, then you may call me Mianmian.”

Jaing Cheng smiled. “Then please join us, Mianmian. I am Jiang Cheng.”

That caused everyone to look at him, and he glared. “What?! I have manners.”

“Jiang-xiong is quite a gentleman,” Nie Huaisang agreed, mildly, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. That tone always meant mischief.

“And you’re a pain in my—”

“No excess talking in the library,” Lan Wangji interrupted, staring placidly back when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng both glared at him. Well, Jiang Cheng glared. Nie Huaisang pouted.

After a moment, Jin Zixuan grunted softly, as if someone had elbowed him in his ribs. He cleared his throat. “What are you working on?” he asked woodenly, as if speaking from a poorly rehearsed script. Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Mianmian nod encouragingly.

“We’re trying to help Nie-xiong pass the next exam,” Wei Wuxian offered.

“Who’s we?” Jiang Cheng muttered, flipping his book open once more. “Unless sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap is a new study method.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan as Wei Wuxian squawked, reaching out to smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, only to be hauled back with apparent ease by Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji who, arms wrapped securely around Wei Wuxian, stared square at Jiang Cheng and said. “It is an advanced technique.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested, going pink in the face, and Nie Huaisang’s giggles turned to outright laughter.

Jin Zixuan leaned into to Jiang Cheng. “Is it always like this?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Pretty much. Those two decided shame was for other people a long time ago.”

“I...have questions,” Jin Zixuan said.

Jiang Cheng turned and looked at him. “You know, so do I. But mine might involve yelling, so the library probably isn’t the best place for them.”

(It takes a while to build up to the conversation, a few weeks until Jin Zixuan is comfortable enough to sit with them without Mianmian as a social buffer. He’s still insufferable, but more and more Jiang Cheng sees the kid he remembers from childhood visits, and even shades of the proud yet just man that he almost had a chance to fully grow into being.)

Meanwhile, something is shifting between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the simmering tension between them boiling over, and Jiang Cheng is both sure that they’ve actively started fucking and and sure that he wants *absolutely nothing to do with it.* He does not want to hear it, see it, smell it — which makes it difficult when Wei Wuxian proves that he has no filter, and Lan Wangji proves he has no shame.

What had actually happened was Lan Xichen had approached Lan Wangji and said that he was glad LWJ was making friends, and hey, haven’t you been spending an awful lot of time with that Wei Wuxian kid? Don’t worry, little brother, I’ll keep Uncle off your back.” LWJ was unsure if Xichen knew that LWJ and WWX were together, but was unsure how to clarify. Every time he tried, LXC seemed to double down on his interpretation of their relationship as being the same as his with NMJ (and while NMJ thought LXC was pretty, he was more interested in Xichen’s swordplay than his *swordplay*) - and LWJ decided that the best course of action was to kiss Wei Wuxian as much as possible as often as possible.

For the record, Lan Xichen was well aware of his little brother’s inclinations, and was quite enjoying his own spot of harmless rebellion by encouraging Wangji’s shamelessness. Besides, Wei Wuxian was a good match for Wangji, and it was a relief to see Wangji smiling. Perhaps it was time to begin drafting some marital paperwork. It wouldn’t do to be caught unprepared, afterall.

He hoped they married in the spring. He always loved a spring wedding...

Somewhere, Jiang Cheng felt a chill.

NEXT TIME - THE RETURN OF THE MAIN PLOT

#mingcheng #mingcheng notefic #my fic #the untamed

43 notes · View notes

thebiscuiteternal · 2 years

Note

(IDK if you're looking for writing prompts or just questions, so I'm including both. Feel free to ignore any of them!) For the writing prompt, I love how your Nie Huaisang is often dealing with a chronic illness. It heals my spoonie heart. I'd love to see anything related to that. I adore your horror writing, but I'd be so happy with something lighter if you'd prefer. For the question: Could you share a character headcanon you love but haven't had a chance to talk about? Any character is great!

I've talked about a few of these on twitter, but I don't think I've posted any of them here. And some of them are part of the Big Overall Headcanon that Huaisang has chronic illness, so two birds with one stone?

Be it virus, injury, tragedy, what-have-you, Nie Huaisang actually gets quieter the more serious it is. If he's being a big dramatic bitch about something? He's most likely fine. If he's in tears or curled up in a ball or whatever and not complaining about the problem? Time to call the healers and/or bust some heads.

He absolutely has the ADHD habit of once he actually manages to get himself in a groove, he forgets about everything else until he finishes what he's doing, because the literal second he stops, his mind's already moved on. This is why he keeps snacks at hand at all times; if he gets up to go get something to eat, there goes all his drive.

As much as he wanted to go visit Yunmeng for a summer, it would have sucked for him because of a previously posted headcanon that his body has almost no body heat regulation, even with a core. While the baseline temperatures wouldn't have been too awful by themselves, the sheer level of humidity probably would have melted him into a puddle by the end of the first day unless he decided to go around barely decent (and he would if it wouldn't get him in trouble with da-ge).

Despite all of his health problems, all his practice catching birds mean he is an excellent climber. His hands hurt all the time but he has incredible grip strength. This little weasel could probably scale a cliff no problem, unless someone tried to make him do it as regular exercise, and then he'd never so much as touch a tree branch again out of spite.

Roughly a year after his da-ge's death, he suffered a public qi deviation of his own. No one saw it coming because he was just sitting in a meeting like normal and then all of a sudden he's got blood trickling from his nose and eyes. The reason is because I headcanon that a qi deviation causes the person to lash out at any target of resentment... and this happened while he was still under the belief that Nie Mingjue's death was his fault for being a terrible brother.

I think it would be both incredibly funny and incredibly tragic if he, of his entire generation, was the only one to attain some form of immortality. And he did it by accident, solely because he refused to die before he could purify his brother's soul. He had full intention to die after that, only to find out that... uh... oops. He can't. Now what?

Okay so going back to that one idea I love using where he and Meng Yao are actually cousins via their mothers... think about how fucking lucky it is that the one other living person besides Meng Yao who could have identified them as such because he'd known both their mothers to some degree -Jin Guangshan- didn't care enough about either woman to pay that much attention.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #headcanons #worldbuilding

18 notes · View 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

rockabelle · 4 years

Text

Things to consider:

In the temple, Jin Guangyao points out that that it was the Jin clan that helped the Cloud Recesses to rebuild.

That got me thinking. Most of the Jiang disciples were killed when Lotus Pier was destroyed. The Lan, though the Cloud Recesses suffered significant damage and losses, were not brought to the brink of annihilation the way the Jiang were.

The Jiang would have needed a lot of aid from the other sects, both during and after the Sunshot Campaign, to survive and rebuild. And who would be giving that aid? The Lan needed aid themselves. The Nie did some of the heaviest fighting during Sunshot, what with the Lan and Jiang being weakened and the Jin only somewhat participating (not to mention their proximity to the Wen sect), so they were licking their own wounds.

The Jin rose in prominence after Sunshot precisely because they didn’t invest much in it until the very end, and then they swooped in and took credit for victory because of Meng Yao’s (Sorry, Jin Guangyao’s) actions as a spy and the beheader of Wen Ruohan. The Jin were already known as being the wealthiest sect even before Sunshot, and then they played both sides of the war and lost little, while still probably getting spoils. Afterwards, this left them at the top of the cultivation world as far as resources, stability, and military power.

The Jin already had a connection to the Jiang because of the friendship that had existed between the Madames Jiang and Jin, and the engagement that had been between their children. Bringing the engagement back and getting Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan married was a significant move. It made good sense for the Jiang, who were extremely vulnerable and would very much benefit from having such a tie and thus being under the protection of the wealthy and powerful Jin sect. As great as it would have been for Jiang Yanli to stay and help her brother rebuild, this was probably the best way she could help their sect (and be protected herself, from Jiang Cheng’s point of view).

Through Jin Guangyao, the Jin had connections to both the Lan and the Nie- he literally saved Lan Xichen’s life when the man was fleeing from the Wen attack on the Cloud Recesses, and then he saved Nie Mingjue’s life when the latter was captured by Wen Ruohan. These connections were solidified when the three of them swore brotherhood and became the “Venerated Triad.”

The Jin gained a strong relationship with the Jiang through marriage, and a history as an ally and benefactor to the Jiang in their hour of need. The Jin not only had the advantage in their trade partnership and whatever role they had in giving aid to the Jiang, but Jiang Yanli, and then Jin Ling, were essentially hostages for good Jiang behavior.

All of which is to say, when Jiang Cheng asked Wen Qing why she didn’t come to him for help, and she was like, would you have helped me regardless of anything else? What could you have done?- she wasn’t castigating him. She was pointing out what they both already knew: his hands were tied. He could not have helped her.

(Even Wei Wuxian knew that, which was at least partly why he did not come to Jiang Cheng, either, when he decided to get Wen Ning’s location from Jin Zixun. He didn’t tell Jiang Cheng what he was going to do and he didn’t try to work through Jiang Cheng’s authority. He ignored him, his own sect leader, entirely. It made Jiang Cheng, already at a disadvantage as the youngest and most inexperienced sect leader, look really bad that his right-hand man/terrifying demonic cultivator underling did this and Jiang Cheng couldn’t control him. But it also made Jiang Cheng look innocent, made it clear that he was uninvolved in what Wei Wuxian was doing and did not endorse his actions.)

The previous time Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing had met, she had told him that they were even and he didn’t owe her anything. He insisted on giving her the comb, anyway, as the symbol of a favor that he was willing to give her and she could cash in if she wanted. Of course, it was also a symbol of unspoken romantic feelings, but that was not something that was ever explicit between them. When Wen Qing returned the comb, it was not meant to be a slap in the face. She was saying, again, “You don’t owe me any favors. You bear no responsibility for me.”

It also symbolized letting go of the old hope for a romantic relationship, yes. Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing were pulled apart at every turn by their responsibilities to their sects. The final time they met was just the culmination.

Both Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing severed their connections with Jiang Cheng on the same day and for the same reason- to protect him and his sect. Wei Wuxian did this by asking that Jiang Cheng expel him from the Jiang sect, and Wen Qing by returning the comb and releasing him from any obligation to her. They knew he could not protect them and they could only endanger him, so they pushed him away.

What could Jiang Cheng possibly have done when Wei Wuxian came to accuse the sects after the Wen remnants sacrificed themselves? The situation was even worse than before. Was he supposed to turn his precious remaining disciples against the other sects? Oppose the sect that had his sister and nephew even at that very moment? Destroy the alliances that kept his sect alive?

And for what? A hopeless, apparently unjust fight to save the person who had killed disciples from almost every sect? Who had killed the Jin sect heir and made Jiang Yanli a widow and Jin Ling fatherless? And then Wei Wuxian made it all too easy for the sects to fight him at the end by acting unhinged and using zombies/his powers against them. Let’s be honest, here: he killed a lot of cultivators who probably didn’t deserve it.

There was nothing Jiang Cheng could have done, not without abandoning or dooming his sect.

After Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli were dead, Jin Guangyao disposed of his remaining relatives to solidify his position. Except for Jin Ling. Jin Ling had a better claim to Jin leadership than he did, why did Jin Guangyao allow him to live?

Simple. As long as Jin Ling was alive, Jin Guangyao had Jiang Cheng by the balls.

By this time, Jin Guangyao’s connections to the other great sects all ran through himself. He had a very close friendship with Lan Xichen, who along with trusting him and being easily manipulated and willing to ignore his suspicions of any wrongdoing, was also quick in defending Jin Guangyao and thus lending him the shield of the First Jade’s excellent reputation. He was a great help in keeping Nie Mingjue under control. When Jin Guangyao finally got rid of Mingjue, he already had claws deep in the new Nie sect leader. He had a longstanding friendly, older brother/mentor relationship with Huaisang, who was incompetent, weak, and had a reputation for uselessness. Nie Huaisang made it even easier by relying on his san-ge for everything. Jin Guangyao honestly believed himself to have more control over Nie affairs than he even wanted. (Fucking brilliant misdirection, Nie Huaisang)

Under Jiang Cheng’s leadership, Yunmeng flourished and became strong again. Jiang Cheng himself became a force to be reckoned with as he grew in experience and confidence. But Jin Guangyao kept a firm hold over him through Jin Ling. Jin Ling was the only family that Jiang Cheng had, and he made his devotion to his nephew very clear to everyone. In their patriarchal world, authority was passed down through the father’s side. Since Jin Ling’s father was Jin, the Jin clan had ultimate claim on Jin Ling. He belonged to the Jin clan, not the Jiang clan, and he was the Jin heir. They might be expected to graciously allow Jiang Cheng to be involved in Jin Ling’s life, but the amount of time the boy was allowed to stay in Lotus Pier, for example, was under their control. Jin Ling’s life was in Jin Guangyao’s hands, and there was little Jiang Cheng could do to control what happened to Jin Ling when he was at Koi Tower.

Jin Guangyao could use Jin Ling to manipulate Jiang Cheng in all kinds of ways, and he could also use him to unknowingly provide information on the Jiang.

Obviously, a lot of things are not being addressed in all this word vomit, but these are just thoughts I’ve been having when I see blame being put on Jiang Cheng for not “doing more” to protect Wei Wuxian or Wen Qing or Jin Ling, especially when folks assume that because Jiang Cheng was a sect leader, that meant he had more control over the situation. In reality, Jiang Cheng’s position curtailed his freedom very much, and made it impossible for him to do the sorts of things that characters with less authority/responsibility could.

It also makes it easier to understand Jiang Cheng’s point of view. Because to him, Wei Wuxian should have been in much the same position as Jiang Cheng was, if he really meant to help his brother bear the burden of their sect. Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have felt “free” to act on behalf of the Wen remnants, either; not if he was serious when he told Jiang Cheng to depend on him.

#jiang cheng #wen qing #wei wuxian #jin guangyao #jin ling #yunmeng siblings #the untamed #mdzs #loooong post

441 notes · View notes

izanyas · 3 years

Note

do you have any favorite quotes, including from your own writing? i would supplement some from your works but that would lead me to reread all ur bsd ones and i save my izanyas rabbit hole phase for every six months or else i'd be emotionally destroyed (your power...!!)

YOUR IZANYAS RABBIT HOLE AAAAAH

oh god i haven't thought about it before!! let me just check Everything

Portrait of You:

The only people who know of Chuuya’s exploits are his boss and those who live to tell the tale; and the tale is told in whispers around meeting tables, never flashed onto TV screens for the uninvolved to consume. HERO NAME v. VILLAIN NAME, the screens say, red or blue background on the left where a hero smiles, purple or black on the right where the villain stares, mouth open to show teeth.

Chuuya knows which side of the screen he’d be on. He knows what Corruption looks like.

In Normalcy's Good Name:

Loneliness, he thinks. A disease he cannot fix by himself, though he tries.

Febrile:

He dreamed of long expanses of grass that turned to rocks and sand; he dreamed of high stone buildings, white as snow, of empty wooden bell-towers that still sang alongside his breathing; he dreamed for a long time, and he dreamed for no time at all. Instants blended together into infinite stretches of time as he flew and crawled and swam, each chime of the unseen bell turning the world into something different and new.

Outside the Realm of Gratitude:

What a mind Claude has. What a heart too, so well-hidden and preserved that Lorenz once thought it non-existent. It is painfully clear to him now just how obtuse he has been.

Build Upon the Ruins:

He understood, right then, that he had never known anyone before. Not like this. He stood wordless in the only home he had a claim to, however reluctant a claim it was; and as he let the whispers of a connection that no two humans should ever share bleed out, he realized that he would never again know someone.

“Now,” Dazai said, watching him greedily. “This is a sight for sore eyes.”

Hello, Chuuya thought, heart shaking.

It was Dazai’s voice he heard whispering back.

It’s so good to meet you.

Tomorrow Has Not Yet Come:

Killing, it turns out, is like riding a bicycle. You never forget how to do it.

Slow Learner:

That was the problem with cultivating the image of a perpetual liar—no one believed him when he wanted to say the truth.

Light:

“It’s a beautiful name,” she said, looking at him with what she thought must be obvious longing. Chuuya, her mind told her again. Chuuya. A name to say in one heartbeat. “You should be proud of it.”

Chuuya looked up at her from under his lashes, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. He always wore vulnerability around him like cloth, but this kind, she had not seen before. This kind she felt in her heart at the turning point of anger; this kind she felt under her skin like a second set of ribs.

Feet Over Harsh Ground:

She remembered blooming petal by petal in the dark of that secret place. She remembered sunlight in the shape of a girl. She remembered her joy and her fear and no one can ever know, Akiko.

No one could ever know.

End of the Famine:

That’s the thing with Dazai. He always looks a second away from fading into thin air, like his being corporeal is only an exercise in politeness. Like his true form lies somewhere between nothing and less than.

Blind Eye:

If only you’d been born a boy, he wished, not for the first time. If only I had a brother.

If Huaisang had been born a brother of his, someone like Lan Xichen or Meng Yao, or even one of those boys she so liked to write about; perhaps then Nie Mingjue would have known how to talk to her.

Perhaps, like Jiang Fengmian, he should find himself a stray to love above his own kin.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow (this was SO FUCKING HARD to decide)

“Does it matter?” she asked him after she had caught her breath. “Does it matter who did it? It was all of them. Every single one of them.” With a brown-stained hand, she roughly rubbed away the tears streaming down her face. She said, “It’s all of you every time one of you does it, and when it happens to one of us, it happens to all of us.”

She said, “This is the only true difference between us all.”

Simmer Down:

He grabbed his too-hot cup of coffee with the fingers of his free hand and let the liquid burn his tongue, bitterer he thought than what he really wanted to drink. Orihara watched him with half-lidded eyes. Like a great bird of prey, wounded and landed and still dangerous.

“Kine once said you were like an animal,” Shiki said into the brim of his cup. It seared his lips, grounding, unsatisfying.

“Did he,” Orihara replied a little shakily.

“He called you vicious. Said that’s why I should be your contact inside Awakusu instead of someone else.”

“How peculiar.”

Shiki let out a thin smile. “He seemed to think I was ruthless enough not to get caught into your sick little games.”

“I don’t play with my food,” Orihara said, like a hum or a song. “If I’m playing then I don’t plan to eat at all.”

Mercy Bid:

For a very long second, he considered looking back. He thought about texting Kadota and telling him to leave him here. He thought about sitting by Izaya’s side until the sun rose and Izaya himself awoke again.

He thought about Celty back home. He thought about Izaya here.

“Yeah,” he replied, the word so heavy on his tongue that he almost sobbed with it. He tugged the door open to the darkness and silence of the hallway. “Sleep well, Izaya.”

All Excuses Aside:

Then the man smiled.

“Well, Izaya,” he said. The cheerfulness in his eyes which had till then made him look almost childish seemed to shift under Izaya’s very eyes. He leaned over the couch once more until his face was right above Izaya’s, and this time Izaya didn’t think anyone could have mistaken his expression for anything close to good-natured. “You’re very, very lucky to be alive.”

For the first time in years, Izaya felt those words to be true.

Withholding Care:

Gintoki was too busy warring with Kagura’s wandering hands to answer him. Eventually, and despite his best efforts to stop her, she managed to land one solid palm in his face with what felt like the strength of three grown men.

“You really are hot,” she said in victory, ignoring the grunt of pain he gave at the blow. “Hot enough to egg on.”

“To cook an egg on,” Shinpachi corrected.

Fires Find a Home:

Yoo Jonghyuk shoves his entire head into the crook of Kim Dokja’s neck and declares, “If I could tie you in place and make sure you never move out of my sight again, I would.”

That would be highly bothersome considering everything Kim Dokja still needs to do, but here and now in the silence of that abandoned building, with Yoo Jonghyuk breathing onto his skin and rubbing off against his hip, he can’t feel too strongly about it.

Surrender:

There is a bereft wife somewhere inside another moonlit room, and Natori is taking her naked husband to his bed.

OK IM STOPPING HERE i cant do Every fic i have it would take so long

#anon #answered #anonymous

12 notes · View notes

djinmer4 · 3 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