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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

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Devastation - All Star Xicheng White Day 1

This is for the All Star Xichen White Day and the prompt for that was Fashion/Modelling/Makeup. I only chose the first two though.

Jiang Cheng is acutely aware of the eyes that are following him through the room. He doesn’t dare to look over to check out if it’s a glare or not, but he can imagine that it must be.

People usually glare at him.

Even though this feels a little bit unfair, because it’s the first time he ever actually met Lan Xichen and he’s not sure what he did to offend him like this already.

He hasn’t even spoken to the guy yet.

Jiang Cheng huffs into his glass of water at that thought, because Lan Xichen is probably an overprotective older brother and it’s more than clear that Lan Wangji doesn’t like Jiang Cheng one bit—at least that feeling is mostly mutual—and so he’s probably angry on his brother’s behalf.

It’s the only explanation Jiang Cheng has.

Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the stab of disappointment he feels at that, and he scolds himself for expecting anything more.

He might have a little tiny crush on Lan Xichen, and while Jiang Cheng never deluded himself into thinking anything more will come out of that, he wasn’t expecting active hostility either.

Especially since Lan Xichen doesn’t even know him yet.

“You look upset,” Nie Huaisang suddenly says from his side and Jiang Cheng scowls even harder.

“How would you know?” he bites out, but he knows he’s being unfair to his friend.

It’s not Nie Huaisang’s fault that Lan Xichen clearly can’t stand him.

“You have a broad variety of frowns,” Nie Huaisang says, tapping his fan against his lips. “And this is your upset scowl. So tell me, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng tries, even though he damn well knows that it’s no use.

If Nie Huaisang thinks that something is wrong then he’ll definitely bother Jiang Cheng until he admits to it or erupts into his face.

It’s a tested method, and Jiang Cheng is annoyed to admit that it usually works too.

“Maybe you want to try that again and this time look a little more like you mean it,” Nie Huaisang teases him and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Lan Xichen doesn’t like me,” Jiang Cheng finally whispers and goes hot in embarrassment at Nie Huaisang’s knowing little “Ah”.

They have been best friends for years, of course Nie Huaisang knows about Jiang Cheng’s stupid, unfounded, hopeless crush.

“Are you sure? Why wouldn’t he like you?” Nie Huaisang wants to know and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

It’s not like he knows how he offended Lan Xichen or what he did to make Lan Xichen dislike him. Lan Xichen is Nie Mingjue’s best friend and the brother of Wei Wuxian’s boyfriend—fiancé, now—but for all that their social circles should overlap at every turn, they have never actually met.

There were a few situations where one of them was leaving while the other was just arriving, but today is the first time they are in the same room for longer than twenty seconds.

“I mean, it’s not unusual for people to dislike me,” Jiang Cheng amends after a short pause, “but I didn’t even speak to him yet. Usually that’s the breaking point for most people.”

“Stop that right now,” Nie Huaisang chastises him and slaps him with his fan. “We talked about this. You’re not allowed to speak like this about my best friend,” Nie Huaisang firmly tells him and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at him.

“Doesn’t change the fact that he seems to despise me,” Jiang Cheng mutters under his breath, watching Lan Xichen from the corner of his eyes.

Lan Xichen is furiously scribbling something into a sketchbook before he turns the page with enough speed to almost rip it to shreds and then he’s glaring at Jiang Cheng again, before he turns back to his sketchbook.

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang muses. “He doesn’t seem angry.”

Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Are you looking at the same guy I am? He nearly ripped that page in half, he’s so angry.”

“Or impatient,” Nie Huaisang gives back but Jiang Cheng won’t hear it.

“Look at him,” he hisses. “He looks as if he’s personally blaming me for his art block.”

“How do you know about his art block?” Nie Huaisang asks him with a frown and Jiang Cheng snorts.

“Please Huaisang. The statue is his brother and Wei Wuxian loves to overshare about everything regarding the statue. Including how he worries about his brother because he seems to have lost his muse and is even thinking about taking some time off.”

“You know, they are engaged now. You should probably stop calling Wangji that,” Nie Huaisang mildly says but they have had this conversation often enough that they both know nothing will come of it.

And besides; Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been together for long enough that Jiang Cheng actually says it with some kind of fondness now. Lan Wangji does make his brother happy, after all and Jiang Cheng can acknowledge at least that.

“I will, if he stops calling me sparkle,” Jiang Cheng give back, completely deadpan but he has to smile when Nie Huaisang bursts out into laughter.

“Okay, fair,” he says between his giggles right before he goes serious again. “But all jokes aside, I don’t think Xichen-ge hates you,” Nie Huaisang says again and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Hate might be a strong word,” he finally amends. “Intense dislike would maybe fit more.”

“You’re being stupid. You said it yourself; you didn’t even speak to him yet. There’s no reason for him to dislike you. Maybe you should go over there and make some small-talk. Your brothers are getting married, you should at least make an effort to speak to him.”

Jiang Cheng can feel himself blush at just the mere suggestion but he has to agree that maybe Nie Huaisang is right about this. Maybe Jiang Cheng just has to talk to him, to either be completely sure that Lan Xichen truly dislikes him, or to amend his previous impression.

Either way, it will bring some clarity to the whole situation and with that thought in mind Jiang Cheng walks right up to Lan Xichen and sits down on the couch next to him.

He tries to keep his face smooth when Lan Xichen slams his sketchbook closed and then he tries to pretend not to be hurt when Lan Xichen leans slightly away from him.

“Hi,” Jiang Cheng says very eloquently and Lan Xichen jerks as if he’s a startled baby rabbit.

He blinks at Jiang Cheng a few times, before he finally manages to return the greeting.

“Hello,” Lan Xichen says and he sounds unsure and probably spooked to hell and back, and it’s Jiang Cheng’s time to stare in surprise as Lan Xichen suddenly gets up from the couch.

“Bye,” Lan Xichen rushes out and then promptly flees the scene.

Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare after him. This is really not how he imagined meeting Lan Xichen for the first time would go over.

“That was strange,” Nie Huaisang says as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng on the couch, a thoughtful look on his face as he stares after Lan Xichen.

“I told you so,” Jiang Cheng says, trying not to let Nie Huaisang know how hurt he is over this reaction, but when Nie Huaisang pats his arm, he knows it’s futile.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang says and while Jiang Cheng was in the process of relaxing under his constant petting, he tenses when Nie Huaisang suddenly smiles at him. “I know how to cheer you up, though,” he promises and Jiang Cheng is not in the habit of calling his friends liars, but yeah.

Nie Huaisang is a liar.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says immediately, because he knows that whatever Nie Huaisang will propose now, he’s going to hate it.

“How about you model for me?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng glares at him so hard, he hopes he sets him on fire.

“Absolutely not,” he gives back, because he will not model for Nie Huaisang.

“Come on, A-Cheng, why not?” Nie Huaisang whines and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, before he sinks deeper into the couch.

“You damn well know why. I’m not going to model for you. Don’t you have Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji at your beck and call for that kind of thing anyway?”

“But I don’t want them,” Nie Huaisang says and clings to Jiang Cheng. “I want you to do it. You would look magnificent.”

“I wouldn’t look better than Wei Wuxian and I can’t hold my composure like Lan Wangji so stop it.”

Jiang Cheng is very firm in his refusal of this, has been ever since Wei Wuxian picked up modelling as a hobby, and he won’t change his stance on it now. He knows that he’s nothing compared to Wei Wuxian and he’s not keen to see it in the photos or clips Nie Huaisang will make.

“You would be wearing completely different clothes, you can’t even compare the two of you,” Nie Huaisang tries but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No,” he says and Nie Huaisang deflates against him.

“You’re a spoilsport, A-Cheng,” he mutters, but he snuggles into Jiang Cheng’s side, so he can’t be too mad.

“And don’t we all know it,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh, because that is one of the many faults he has.

The rest of the party goes over relatively quickly and Jiang Cheng does his best to stay out of Lan Xichen’s way, seeing as the guy clearly can’t stand him. It almost doesn’t hurt at all, especially with how hard Nie Huaisang tries to distract him.

~*~*~

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wei Wuxian yells as he storms into Jiang Cheng’s apartment.

“Hello to you, too,” Jiang Cheng gives back, but he’s already on the defence because Wei Wuxian seems genuinely mad and Jiang Cheng can’t think of anything he did to warrant that reaction.

“Fuck you and your hello,” Wei Wuxian sneers and jabs his pointy finger into Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You’re a selfish, thick-headed idiot and I am so mad!” Wei Wuxian yells into his face and Jiang Cheng smacks his finger away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng bites out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment if you think I’m so stupid.”

“You don’t even care, do you? You’re ruining Xichen-ge’s whole career and you don’t even care. God, you’re truly so damn selfish,” Wei Wuxian tells him and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“What the hell do I have to do with Lan Xichen? I don’t even speak to the guy,” Jiang Cheng tells him because he has barely even seen the guy since he so clearly fled from him, but Wei Wuxian continues to glare at him.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and Jiang Cheng fights the urge to strangle him. “Is that what you tell yourself to be alright with what you are doing?”

“I have no fucking clue what you think I’m doing!” Jiang Cheng yells at him, completely fed up with Wei Wuxian’s accusations.

Wei Wuxian clearly wants to scream something back at him but before he can do so, Lan Xichen comes into the apartment. He frantically looks around until he sees Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng and then he rushes forward.

“Wei Wuxian, what are you doing?” Lan Xichen asks him, clearly trying for calm, but looking stressed as well.

“You said—” Wei Wuxian starts but Lan Xichen frantically shakes his head.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Jiang Cheng snarls out, crossing his arms in front of his chest and shifting uncomfortably when both Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen turn to look at him.

“I would like to explain,” Lan Xichen starts, but Wei Wuxian interrupts him.

“Why would you even still speak to him if he’s ruining your whole show?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen sighs before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Because he doesn’t know about it,” Lan Xichen mutters, and Wei Wuxian’s eyes go big.

“Oh,” he whispers and Jiang Cheng sends him a scathing glare.

“Yeah, oh,” Jiang Cheng says and then points at the door. “You’re going to get the fuck away from me now, I don’t want to see your stupid face until I calmed down, and then we will have words about your accusations,” he tells Wei Wuxian who presses his lips together and then scurries out of the door.

He closes it behind him very softly and Jiang Cheng glares after him for a long moment before he turns to Lan Xichen.

“Explain,” he bites out and does his very best to not find it fetching how Lan Xichen’s cheeks slowly turn red.

“What did he say exactly?” Lan Xichen asks him first and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“That I’m ruining your entire career,” Jiang Cheng gives back and frowns when Lan Xichen grimaces at that.

“He’s overreacting,” he then says but Jiang Cheng is not going to let him off without a proper explanation.

“About what?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen sighs, before his shoulder sag.

“I have a new collection ready,” Lan Xichen tells him and Jiang Cheng is surprised to hear that.

Last he knew, Lan Xichen was completely without inspiration and thought about taking some time off, so this surely must be a good thing.

“Congratulations?” Jiang Cheng asks, because with how the day has been going it cannot be simply something good, that much is clear to Jiang Cheng.

“Thank you.”

“Now what does it have to do with me ruining your career?” Jiang Cheng eventually prods when Lan Xichen doesn’t say anything else, and Lan Xichen blushes again.

“I refuse to let people who are not you model them,” Lan Xichen whispers and goes even more red in the face.

“Why would you do that?” Jiang Cheng asks with a frown. “And you didn’t even ask me about that.”

“I know,” Lan Xichen admits. “But I heard you talking to Huaisang once—during the party—and you said you’re not going to model, so I thought it futile to ask just for you to tell me to fuck off.”

“Why would you even want me to model for you if you have your brother and my gremlin at your beck and call? They are clearly the better choice,” Jiang Cheng says and almost manages to not sound bitter at all.

“Because you’re—” Lan Xichen starts and then can’t seem to bring himself to finish the sentence.

Instead he reaches into his bag and pulls out a sketchbook. Jiang Cheng recognizes it as the one Lan Xichen was drawing in when he saw him at the party and when Lan Xichen pushes it into Jiang Cheng’s chest, he takes it.

“Just look at it,” Lan Xichen says without meeting his eyes and Jiang Cheng frowns down at it before he flips it open.

He silently goes through every page, but his eyes get bigger and bigger as he goes along. Lan Xichen didn’t draw faces or anything, just sketched the absolute minimum to give it a human figure, but Jiang Cheng knows that it’s all him.

The clothes completely give it away.

They are all in various shades of purple, completely fitting Jiang Cheng’s style and he doesn’t know what to do with that at all.

“But you hate me,” Jiang Cheng says when he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the last page.

“Why would you ever think that?” Lan Xichen asks and Jiang Cheng thinks he must be imagining the devastation colouring his voice.

“Because you glared at me the whole evening! And then you fled like a startled animal when I tried to talk to you!” Jiang Cheng reminds him and Lan Xichen breathes out a soft oh.

“That wasn’t—" Lan Xichen starts and then shakes his head. “You’re so beautiful,” he finally says and frowns when Lan Xichen scoffs at that.

“You are! You’re gorgeous and captivating and seeing you in action, talking to people, it was like my muse had come back and hit me over the head. So I had to start drawing that very instant and it couldn't go fast enough with all the ideas I suddenly had, because you are just that inspiring. And then you came over to talk to me and I was just filling another page with clothes for you and I didn’t know what to do. So I ran,” Lan Xichen sheepishly admits and Jiang Cheng can only blink at him, because surely this must be a joke.

“What the hell are you on about?” Jiang Cheng finally manages to get out and he gives the sketchbook back to Lan Xichen, waiting for the punchline.

He’s not prepared for the look on Lan Xichen’s face though.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lan Xichen whispers again and it seems like he wants to reach out for Jiang Cheng before he remembers himself. “I’m sorry this made you uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t for Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen finally says with a sad, small smile when Jiang Cheng can’t seem to find his words.

“Please don’t let this—It doesn’t mean anything,” Lan Xichen finally finishes and that jerks Jiang Cheng out of his stupor.

“Of course it does!” he almost yells out and Lan Xichen flinches. “Fuck, you can’t just say that and then pretend that it doesn’t mean anything,” he goes on, voice a little bit softer and his heart is hammering away in his chest.

He fears that he’s going to perish on the spot if Lan Xichen keeps insisting that this doesn’t mean anything, and so he shakes his head vigorously when it seems like Lan Xichen is going to protest against his words.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since our brothers started dating,” Jiang Cheng finds himself blurting out and Lan Xichen’s eyes go big. “So if this means more, then I’m not opposed to that,” Jiang Cheng finishes weakly, and is not prepared for the huge smile that breaks out on Lan Xichen’s face.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Lan Xichen beams at him and immediately reaches out to thread their fingers together.

“It still doesn’t mean I’m going to model for you,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, completely taken aback by how happy Lan Xichen seems, but even that doesn’t seem to do much to dampen his mood.

“That doesn’t matter,” Lan Xichen reassures him and Jiang Cheng finds that maybe he would like to model for him, if Lan Xichen keeps looking at him like this then.

Jiang Cheng will have to wait and see, though. He’s not going to dive into this head-first. At least not into modelling.

“Do you want to stay for—” Jiang Cheng leans slightly to the side so he can catch a glance at the clock, “lunch?” he then asks and Lan Xichen nods enthusiastically at him.

“I would love to,” he eagerly agrees and Jiang Cheng can’t help the small smile on his own face.

They still have to get to know each other and see where this will take them, but Jiang Cheng is cautiously hopeful about this and he can’t wait to spend more time with Lan Xichen.

And by how Lan Xichen squeezes his fingers, he’s feeling the same.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #xicheng #the untamed #modern au #getting together #fashion designer lan xichen #misunderstandings #hurt/comfort

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wanyinchen · 4 years

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DAY 1 PROMPT: Fashion for the Xicheng White Day event!!

I have decided to change my highschool au to a college au hahahaha I don’t know anything about fashion nor fashion design school so forgive mee

#Sha's artsies uwu #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #xicheng #mdzs #AllStarXiChengWD #Day 1: Fashion #mo dao zu shi #I AM SO SORRY XICHENG WHITE DAY!!! *criess*#can you believe?? Last week we just had our thesis defense and a shift in subjects #and the week before that was our quarterly assessments and project deadline #like whoops there goes my time and energy for drawing hehe #oh god my designs suck #pls throw tomatoes at moi #this is probably my only contribution for the event because #as said #i was unbelievably busy anfkslsdfslajk #i am screaming internally #highschool au

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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NMJ and JGY spend an entire banquet on the same page and in perfect agreement on something - and that something is that the random, minor sect leader's daughter that is CLEARLY trying to get with LXC is Not Good Enough For Him and they both need to make sure the OTHER doesn't accidentally maim and/or poison her throughout the night.

ao3

It was really a completely logical decision to try to approach Lan Xichen with the information necessary to avert the horrible fate that lay in the future, and Qin Su really had no idea why she was having such trouble with it.

She knew she didn’t have all the information – she didn’t even know who it was that had sent her the letter revealing all those terrible things – but there was no one else who could avert what was coming. She had been the one to die by her own hand using the enchanted blade said to eat souls, not them, and therefore the one to discover that, apparently, that curse had really just been the side effect of an array designed to send the user back in time, provided that they used it on themselves rather than another.

A fairly stupid item, as things went, but there was nothing for it.

At any rate, Qin Su was back now, back in her teenage body, unmarried and not even engaged – and she knew too much.

Far, far, too much.

Obviously she couldn’t tell Jin Guangyao about it all. Her once and future husband, however much she’d once loved him, had proven to be thoroughly unreliable. She might not have known about it before they married, but she certainly did know all about it by now. Did he really think she didn’t know about all his little schemes, all his crimes, his viciousness and cruelty? She’d only never cared because he’d never aimed it at her, his beloved – or so she’d thought, anyway, until the letter had revealed the true fate of Jin Rusong, and the reason behind it.

No, she couldn’t trust him. Nor could she trust her own father, who had been ignorant for so long – who had been Jin Guangshan’s friend for so long. What if he decided to simply execute both her and her mother to hide his shame? That would certainly avert the issue of her son dying, but not in any reasonable or useful fashion – and she knew so much, now.

It would be utterly unreasonable for her not to seek to get some benefits from having suffered the life she lived, now that she was back and in a position to make use of it. She’d been Jin Guangyao’s wife, after all! She’d heard plenty, over the years, and she knew she could be of use, if only someone would listen. She would be more than happy to trade her valuable future knowledge to help them now in return for their help in ensuring her freedom and future happiness.

So – her father was out, her future husband was out. Naturally the Jin sect was out.

Of the other available sect leaders, Lan Xichen was the only reasonable option. Nie Mingjue had a reputation for being straightforward and fair, righteous and upright, but she didn’t know him – he’d died too early, and in such a terrifying rage, and the fact that it’d been aimed against her beloved husband biased her against him even further. Even as he was now, he was constantly angry, always ready to boil over with rage given the right incentive; she didn’t dare approach him with her current identity, a young woman who was only the daughter of a small sect, and a subsidiary sect of the Jin sect, his rivals, no less. He’d undoubtedly suspect a plot, and she wouldn’t blame him one bit. If it were her, she would’ve been deeply suspicious.

Therefore, putting aside Jin Guangyao (and Jin Guangshan, obviously) and Nie Mingjue, that left only Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen, and of the two of them, she felt she knew Lan Xichen much better. He’d been Jin Guangyao’s sworn brother for all those years, after all, constantly visiting – he always had a smile on his face, had always been kind, gentle, gracious. Nothing like the bitter too-angry Jiang Cheng, who was young and hotheaded and hated everyone just a little, who at this age was still visibly skittish and unable to get his bearings in the political battles that were a constant, dangerous undercurrent in the immediate aftermath of the Sunshot Campaign.

No, it had to be Lan Xichen.

Qin Su hadn’t thought it would be difficult. All she needed was a moment of his time…

And that, for some reason, she couldn’t seem to get.

It was extremely frustrating. If it wasn’t something happening with her (future) husband rushing over to ask his er-ge to come help, summoning him away before she managed to convince Lan Xichen to listen to her request, then it was Nie Mingjue striding over, his booming voice calling out for Lan Xichen, and pulling him away. It was starting to get exasperating – sure, Lan Xichen was extremely useful, but both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao were extremely accomplished, talented individuals; how much could they possibly need him? And their timing was just too on point – if she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought they were practically choreographing their actions, each one stepping in when the other’s excuses were exhausted. Even Jiang Cheng ended up coming over at one point!

Though in his case it turned out he’d been sent over by Jin Guangyao, something he admitted casually, and that’s when Qin Su’s brain – mostly focused on her previous life’s grief and how she was going to convince Lan Xichen that she wasn’t insane – suddenly turned back on.

It wasn’t, in fact, bad timing, or bad luck. With a husband like hers, could it really be just that?

It was a plot.

A scheme.

To keep her from talking to Lan Xichen!

…but why?

Surely she had been the only one to activate the rebirth array on the knife – she couldn’t imagine her husband following her reckless path; he would always choose to retreat, to run, to live. And surely there couldn’t have been too many other paths to reverse time itself. So it had to be something else, some reason why their past selves were so eager to ensure that she didn’t get any time alone with Lan Xichen…

Wait.

Did they think that she was trying to seduce him?!

She was an unmarried young woman, the daughter of a minor sect leader, and Lan Xichen was the most desirable young master in the cultivation world. If she wasn’t from the future, she might’ve had thoughts – she really had had a few thoughts back when she really was this age, just a few stray ones, and she’d already been madly head over heels for Jin Guangyao back then after he’d helped rescue her during the war.

It was a reasonable assumption for them to make, especially since she’s already politely implied to Jin Guangyao that his suit for her hand was unlikely to be successfully received, and even more reasonable that they’d decide that the daughter of a subsidiary sect of Lanling Jin was a completely inappropriate match for the esteemed Zewu-jun to make. Politically speaking, they were right; it would’ve been a disaster.

Personally speaking, though, Qin Su was about to tear her hair out. She had to get Lan Xichen alone! She had to! She couldn’t talk about time travel in front of everyone – it had to be private, and she needed enough time to convince him that she was being truthful and not, you know, insane.

She needed, therefore, to first convince Lan Xichen’s extremely irritating sworn brothers to leave off.

Ideally before they escalated to trying to cut off her head or poison her as a means of stopping her from trying to talk to him.

But – how?

“Mianmian,” Qin Su said urgently, finding her sometimes-but-not-always friend in the crowd. “I need you to make out with me for the greater good.”

“Okay,” Luo Qingyang said, which was a bit of a surprise – the woman had a fiery temper and wasn’t normally all that agreeable or willing to go along with other people’s crazy stunts.

“We’ll probably need to get caught,” Qin Su warned her. “It might give you a reputation.”

“Still okay. You want to do it now?”

“Uh,” Qin Su said, a little surprised by the enthusiasm. “Sure, let’s go find a place –”

Mianmian dragged her behind a curtain.

Eventually they were, in fact, found, and – as predicted – both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao abruptly eased up on their eternal vigilance over Lan Xichen’s bachelorhood status, allowing Qin Su to finally get a chance to talk to him in private, so it all worked out.

Of course, now Qin Su had to re-do all her plans to accommodate having to ensure that her brand new girlfriend didn’t quit the Jin sect on a furious impulse, but – whatever.

It’d be fine, she could manage.

#mdzs #qin su #mianmian #3zun in the background #my fic #my fics

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cqlfeels · 3 years

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Regarding that "lan xichen matches his outfit to the sect (coughboyfriendcough) he's currently visiting" post, I know a lot of people writing modern aus picture him in boring cardigans and while I would agree with the vibe, modern times lan xichen is 100% the kind of person who researches the color scheme of the places he's going to before going out. Can't risk clashing with the accent pillows and wallpaper!!! What would people think..... However it is rich people fashion so it's still boring

Yes! Jokes aside, I really do think LXC is very image-conscious. In a modern AU where he's rich, I can see him like, choosing designers who send a message specific to the occasion. Not just in terms of what the actual outfit looks like, but also things like... Ethically sourced fabrics to go to a fundraiser. An up-and-coming brand from the hometown of the host of an event. This kind of First Lady level awareness. Even if you go for an AU where he's middle class, I think he'd enjoy understated but still fashionable and high quality things? I don't think he'd just be generically well-dressed, I think he'd put thought into his shopping and outfit selection. I can't quite picture a LXC who doesn't know the importance of first impressions, in any universe.

#that sounds like so much work tho #rip modern lxc #it must suck to be you

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linxuelian · 4 years

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I found a Chinese BL Warring States Game of Thrones, three years older than The Untamed

And I just had to write a review about it! It’s 60 episodes long so I haven’t finished it yet at the time I’m writing this - but I decided to just go ahead and recommend it anyway.

Why, you ask?

For one, it’s Romance of the Three Kingdoms with all the Hollywood action and adult HBO things. It’s got explosions:

Horses falling down:

People getting flogged:

Sweaty soldiers getting mauled to death:

Children used as hostages:

Dead bodies presented in court:

Stylish dye jobs:

Loving father figures:

A Jon Snow lookalike:

And very gay innuendo:

That’s right, unlike The Untamed, which was first written as a straight series featuring Wen Qing as the main female lead and then rewritten again after fans of the novel decided to boycott it, this series was written to be gay from the very beginning. It got taken down by the Chinese Censorship Board after twelve episodes and river-crabbed to death, but a good number of scenes survived censorship. Those that did not made it to BiliBili in the form of “hidden” videos and disguised as “music videos”.

That’s not all. For a warring period Wuxia series, it’s got very beautiful actors, backdrops and clothing. It’s dressed like a fairy tale, with different kingdoms sporting different colours and styles in fashion and tastes.

In terms of art direction, it’s pretty low-budget for a series but the team makes good use of existing props, locations and brighter-coloured fabric to make up for the quality. The costume design is more fantasy-based than period, and the vivid takes and angles in the first season add to its charm.

There’s also its complex story line, which brings us to...

Men with Swords is not a title for the faint-hearted. There is an acute absence of black-and-white morality depicted in it.

If you think a BL series with such beautiful backdrops and fairytale-like clothes is for the simple-minded, one-track-good-vs-evil sort, think again. The series is a tale about Murong Li, a vengeful prince disguised as a musician and his rise to power, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction in its wake.

Where The Untamed fails at delivering gray morality unlike the novel it’s adapted from, choosing to alter its script to fit a more general audience (a commercially-wise decision which got it into Netflix), Men with Swords succeeds in faithfully telling a tale where there is no good or evil, only humanity, jealousy, grudges, rebellion, loyalty, life, death, greed and love.

Everyone has both good and bad sides, just different camps and motives. Men with Swords tells the story from not just one person’s perspective, but from the perspective of many different people, all of whom become entangled in a battle for their figurative Iron Throne - to become the king of the world.

There are no “what ifs” in this story, only decisions, reactions and repercussions

A prevailing theme in this series is that there are no “what ifs” and no turning back in life, only things that have happened and will happen. Murong Li starts his journey as a prince who has lost everything and a victim of war, wandering around for three years while being put down and getting sexually harassed, eventually losing it, taking his chances and hardening his heart as he walks down his conniving, badass path of destruction towards the top.

Men with Swords is not a series for the faint-hearted. It’s a game of chess where the main character, Murong Li, is cunning and decisive, cold and ruthless and many recurring characters die horrible, sudden deaths, friend and foe alike, a la Attack on Titan.

The series is filled with political strife and warfare, peppered with some sweet, comedic and romantic undertones. There is a stark contrast between fluffy and dark in its narrative, which is pretty refreshing overall.

With that all aside, I know what you’re probably scrolling down for:

The main characters and their boyfriends

This is it. This is what you’re here for. Most “BL” series are actually bromances, but the real upside for a BL fan is that this show is not a bromance - it’s a BL title, and even with censorship, the love stories prevail.

I’m going to put this under a cut because it’s LONG AF, but what that means is that there is a LOT of BL content available, and not the type that you have to hunt for. They’re very open about it.

While the show itself has a lot of ships, there’s a larger focus on three main ones, namely the beautiful Murong Li and two powerful kings, the fairy-like Ling Guang and his servants, and King Jian Bin with his general.

Murong Li: Da Ji 2.0 and his rich and powerful kings

If you’re a Jin Guangyao fan, you’ll probably enjoy Murong Li and his elegant, charming viles and ruthless scheming. He’s a surprisingly good fighter too, and unlike most elegant and waif-like beauties in dramas and novels alike, he’s a beauty with brains who uses his physical weakness as his strength, bending and seducing his way up to power.

Murong Li only really goes after rich and powerful people, worming his way into the kingdom and taking them down from the inside. Two main love interests are King Zhi Ming, the childish but rich king of Tianquan:

And Yu Xiao, a powerful barbarian king with a soft heart:

Murong Li, while wandering around as a musician, picks up many tricks along the way to hone himself. He’s adept at dressing up, making himself look helpless and alluring to bewitch powerful men, for one:

See that small smile right there? Yes, our boy knows what he’s doing.

Aside from that, Murong Li’s also pretty good at manipulating people by using their jealousies and insecurities, getting them to fight with each other over him.

Murong Li, although modeled after the cruel and beautiful Murong Chong, the Emperor of Wei, is likened to Da Ji, the favorite consort of the King Zhou of Shang. Da Ji was said to be a malevolent fox spirit who started the art of foot-binding to hide her fox feet. Everyone else looking in can see it, but the King was blinded, just like Murong Li’s powerful love interests. In fact, the series draws a direct parallel to it:

The Guo Shi here uses the term “yao”, which alludes to a malevolent spirit.

It’s not that Murong Li doesn’t have a weakness, though. Just like every Jin Guangyao has a Lan Xichen around to cause him to slip now and then, Murong Li surprisingly is weak towards the most naive and childish character in the series, the truant King Zhi Ming, whose only qualities are having purple bangs and being rich and playful.

No matter how calculative and ruthless Murong Li is in the series, he does end up almost slipping up and giving everything away when it comes to this bumbling fellow:

He’s saved only at the nick of time by one of his followers. Murong Li tells a lot of lies, but the one thing he can’t lie about are his feelings towards King Zhi Ming, who is ultimately the one thing he can’t give up next to his kingdom.

There’s a lot more one can write about a complex character such as Murong Li, but the second ship is just as good. It features:

Ling Guang: The Ex-Arrogant Depressed Hamster hung up over a dead ex

Ling Guang, the mortal enemy and foil to Murong Li, is a baby-faced, very-much-older-than-he-looks character whose sole purpose in this series is to wear frilly magenta clothing, destroy the kingdom of Yaoguang, set Murong Li down a path of vengeful destruction and piss off eligible, probably younger bachelors by comparing them to his very handsome, very loyal and very dead boyfriend, his personal guard, Qiu Zhen, who died sometime over thirteen years ago.

The bachelors’ pissed off takes to this are particularly priceless:

Here’s another one from season 2:

That HMPH face is to die for.

Ling Guang’s delusions are met head-on by these eligible bachelors, his ministers and his allies alike:

Only to be met by a, “haha, NO.”

Frustrating, right? It only gets worse as the series progresses. Due to Wuxia’s fantastical existence of sword souls, he begins to actively test his subjects out to see if they’re his dead boyfriend, whose sword soul is still alive:

Gu Shi’an: WTF.

So why do these eligible, handsome bachelors, particularly this guy from season two, jump at his lap every chance they get?

First off, he’s very, very pretty. He’s arguably the prettiest and fanciest king in the series, with a cute rounded face, favoring fluffy organza, frills and feathers in his garb, and sporting fabulous curls like that of a swan princess on a good day.

Secondly, and more importantly, it’s likely because he’s the type loyal dogs adore.

He’s stupidly and openly attached to his bodyguards and servants, unable to hide his feelings or control them. Ling Guang’s relationships are technically the opposite of Murong Li’s. While Murong Li hides his feelings and goes after men of power and tends to use them before leaving them, Ling Guang’s willing to sacrifice everything, including his kingdom, his health and his own life for men who are merely servants.

He's a king who doesn’t know proper protocol. He’s the type who’ll demand to eat with you at the same table:

Creeps outside the palace to see you off:

Hugs your sword around like a pillow while he waddles around listlessly and sleeps with it by his side after you’re long dead (grand total: 13 years):

Coddles you when you’re sick:

Takes arrows for you:

Isn’t afraid to cry and tell you how it is:

Faints violently and won’t rest until he can get your stolen body back:

The results?

If he’s not what loyal bodyguards like, I don’t know what he is. If Murong Li’s love interests have to pit themselves against each other to show how useful they are for his sake, Ling Guang’s love interests need to wrestle with a dead man he can’t let go of... which is hopeless, because you can’t kill a guy who’s already dead.

As a foil to Murong Li, what’s also interesting to note is that it’s alluded to and foreshadowed that he’s exactly the sort the loyal Yu Xiao, the current barbarian king, would have loved to have as a lover - honest, loyal and doting - unlike Murong Li himself. Gongsun Qian, a deputy minister with great foresight, had wanted Ling Guang to go to see the new barbarian kingdom, but he had refused to go outside the palace, shutting himself inside like an otaku. This decision ultimately gave Murong Li a step forward with his plans, at the great cost of four kingdoms, including his own.

Jian Bin: My boyfriend can (REALLY) fight

Next up is Jian Bin and his general. Jian Bin’s the king of Tian Ji, a new kingdom founded by astrologers. The catch here is that Jian Bin and his boyfriend, Qi Zhi Kan, are both men of science, and this tank of a boyfriend is a genius on the battlefield who doesn’t give a single shit about star signs, astrology and superstitions.

A story between a serious, loving king and his handsome general who was once a simple sword-maker in the woods, King Jian Bin meets his handsome ex-lumberjack boyfriend when he’s attacked, falls down from his horse and is rescued by the man himself.

Jian Bin then brings the guy back to his palace and dresses him in armor:

This puts the king’s general on the war path of several ministers and the superstitious people in their kingdom. As lovers, the two go through various trials together in an attempt to run their kingdom their way.

Qi Zhi Kan may seem like a herbivore in front of the king, but he’s really not one at all. He’s terrifying to a degree when it comes to warfare, and very, very difficult to take down. Unlike the other ministers, Qi Zhi Kan knows that he can expand the kingdom quickly and solve problems by waging war.

Even his allies are scared of him:

Ultimately, it’s a ship meant for those who like watching the king teasing his loyal subject and caressing armor whenever he’s around AND not around. Jian Bin even admits to it on-scene:

This loving and devoted couple were originally blessed as the ones with the most piggyback scenes, tender bandaging-your-chest and armor fondling, but they got censored unfortunately.

Scenes like these made the cut, though:

And that’s it! There are actually other minor ships, but these are the main ones for now.

If you’re sold and interested in the show, the series is available online on Rakuten Viki. https://www.viki.com/tv/35524c?locale=zh

#bl series #chinese bl #series recommendations #c-drama #men with sword #chinese period drama

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besanii · 4 years

Text

double happiness at your door

Part 18 [end] | previous chapters linked on sidebar!

The initial plan was for Qing Qiu to send a retinue, personally led by Wei Wuxian, to pick up Lan Wangji and the rest of the bridal procession from the Nine Heavens. No expenses were to be spared—both Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang had had a lot of fun (perhaps a little too much fun) designing the bridal palaquin that would transport Lan Wangji from his quarters at the Palace of Enlightenment to his new home with Wei Wuxian in the Fox Den of Qing Qiu, and they had certainly not skimped out on the wedding gifts either—and for a while everyone had been happy. Except then Lan Qiren had gotten hold of the palanquin designs and thrown a fit, deeming it unsuitably gaudy and ostentatious for an esteemed member of the Nine Heavens Imperial Family.

Which, okay fair. Maybe having a pair of Bi Yi Niao drawing the palanquin had been a bit much. But still! That doesn’t mean Lan Qiren gets to cancel the bridal procession altogether!

So they had to compromise. They’ll keep the bridal procession and the palanquin if they do away with the bridal veil and the Bi Yi Niao. Which leaves him here, outside the Palace of Enlightenment with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang at his side, facing off with Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue.

“Uh, so how does this work, exactly?” Wei Wuxian mutters under his breath, nudging Nie Huaisang with an elbow.

“They’re supposed to give you a challenge!” Nie Huaisang says, fluttering his fan excitedly in front of his face. “Something to prove your love and devotion!”

My what now?

He turns to the two imposing figures in the doorway and gulps.

“Taizi-dianxia, Chifeng-zun,” he laughs weakly. “Have you eaten yet? We’ve brought...cakes! And pastries! Please, have your fill!”

Lan Xichen smiles.

“Thank you for the kind offer, Xiao-dianxia,” he says, “but we have already eaten. Why don’t we focus on the task at hand, hmm?”

There’s a vaguely threatening twinkle in his eye that sends chills down Wei Wuxian’s spine and himself almost crashing into Jiang Cheng on his other side.

“What does Taizi-dianxia propose then?” Jiang Cheng asks, drawing himself up to his full height. It’s an admirable attempt at making himself appear more threatening, but he’s up against Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, which pretty much speaks for its effectiveness (or lack thereof).

Well, at least he tried. Wei Wuxian can give him that.

“Mingjue-xiong, what was the purpose of this exercise again?” Lan Xichen asks, voice light and airy. “To prove Xiao-dianxia’s love and devotion for Wangji, was it?”

The grin Nie Mingjue gives them is anything but light and airy. Nie Huaisang audibly gulps.

“I know just the thing.” He stretches out a hand and summons Baxia into his grasp. It glints menacingly in the sunlight. “How about a duel? If you defeat me, you may pass.”

“Is that a good idea, Da-ge?” Nie Huaisang pipes up from where he’s half-hiding behind Wei Wuxian. “We don’t want to hurt Wei-xiong before he’s had a chance to perform his duties!”

Wei Wuxian chokes and turns red immediately—Nie Huaisang is so dead. He’s going to kill him. How can he say something like that in front of the Crown Prince? Lan Wangji’s brother? Does he want to get him killed? He still hasn’t seen Lan Wangji in his wedding robes!

“Nie-xiong!” he hisses. To Nie Mingjue, he offers a deep bow. “Chifeng-zun, please spare your junior on his wedding day. How could I possibly hope to defeat you in combat?”

“Oh?” Nie Mingjue smirks. “Do you not want to be married then?”

“Chifeng-zun!” Wei Wuxian heaves an incredibly put-upon sigh. “Then you leave me no choice. Luckily, in situations like this, I can call upon my trusty brother to fight in my stead!”

He slings an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and shoves him forward with an encouraging shout, grinning wickedly at the abject terror on his face as he comes nose-to-chest with Nie Mingjue. Still, he grits his teeth and squares his shoulders and actually looks like he’s going to fight so Wei Wuxian has got to hand it to him—what a good brother! He’ll never compare him to a pufferfish again!

The moment is interrupted by Lan Xichen clearing his throat.

“While that’s all well and good,” he says mildly. “I think Wangji would prefer it if we didn’t destroy his courtyard, or injure his husband before the wedding. Why don’t we do something else?”

He swears he hears Nie Mingjue blow a raspberry. A very tiny, petulant one out of the corner of his mouth. But definitely a raspberry. But Lan Xichen appears not to have seen it, or at least pretends not to, as he waves his arm and a table appears in front of them with a blank scroll and a set of inks and brushes.

“Xiao-dianxia, if you will.” He motions for Wei Wuxian to take a seat. “I have a very simple task for you. Please write down all three thousand of the Lan family rules within the span of one joss stick.”

What?

“What?” he says aloud, dumbfounded. “All of them?”

Lan Xichen raises an eyebrow.

“You were gifted with a copy of them when you first arrived at the Nine Heavens,” he reminds him. “And again when we first sent pingli to your chambers at the beginning of this engagement. I trust you would have read them in preparation for your marriage. After all, these rules are very important to Wangji.”

He tops it all off with a beatific smile that has Wei Wuxian breaking out in a cold sweat. Okay, so he has read all three thousand rules before. Once. Sort of. Okay so maybe he’s skimmed them a bit. But to ask him to write them all down from memory just isn’t fair! He’s not even the one marrying into the Lan family! If anything, Lan Wangji should be the one to copy out Qing Qiu’s rules!

He forces a smile and picks up the brush.

“Of course,” he lies. “Of course I did.”

He’s about half a joss stick in when an idea strikes him and he scraps the page he’s been working on—he hears Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng groan and complain loudly and ignores them in favour of smoothing out a fresh piece of paper and setting brush to paper with gusto. They want him to demonstrate his knowledge of the Lan family rules? Well, he’ll give them one better.

He lifts the brush from the paper with a final flourish just as the last part of the joss stick crumbles away into dust. A splatter of ink gets onto Jiang Cheng’s robes, but he’s too busy setting aside the brush and picking up his masterpiece to acknowledge his angry muttering. He offers it to Lan Xichen with a bow.

“Taizi-dianxia,” he says. “For your inspection.”

Lan Xichen’s face softens as he takes in what Wei Wuxian has given him.

“Xiao-dianxia…”

It’s a picture of Lan Wangji sitting under the shade of a peach blossom tree, playing the guqin, from the first time he’d visited the Nine Heavens. He remembers climbing over the wall to escape his etiquette lessons and stumbling into the Palace of Enlightenment completely by accident while Lan Wangji had been practising. He remembers how the sunlight had shone through the branches of the tree just so to bathe him in an ethereal glow—if they had not been already immortal, Wei Wuxian could have sworn he was a fairy descended to earth—and the way his breath had caught in his throat at the sight.

It was the first time he remembers really seeing Lan Wangji.

Nie Huaisang is smiling behind his fan while admiring the portrait, and even Nie Mingjue looks grudgingly impressed by his work. Jiang Cheng folds his arms over his chest and scoffs, but he too has a pleased little quirk at the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” Lan Xichen says finally, lowering the portrait. “I believe you’ve quite surpassed the task we set for you, Xiao-dianxia. Here is your reward.”

He steps aside.

Lan Wangji is standing at the door to the main chambers on the other side of the courtyard, dressed in layers of red and gold silk fitted to perfection around his broad frame. Even the customary silver pins in his hair have been replaced by a single one made of gold, fashioned into the shape of a dragon and slotted through a guan of flowing golden clouds. His honey-gold eyes are wide and stunned, his mouth falling open just a sliver as he looks Wei Wuxian up and down.

“Wei Ying,” he breathes. Wei Wuxian flushes, his insides squirming in pleasure under his scrutiny.

And oh.

Oh.

Wei Wuxian presses a hand over his pounding heart in realisation.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, unable to stop the smile breaking out over his face. “I’m here!”

Lan Wangji hums, his eyes soft.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You are.”

Previous parts and ko-fi link on my sidebar!

Aaaaaaand that’s a wrap on the main fic, folks! The next part after this is the wedding night, which I’ve already written and can be found in the master post. Everything written after this will be purely extras :)

Thank you for sticking with me through it all! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’ll probably focus more on Shattered Mirrors while working on another WIP in the background, so please support SM too!

#mdzs #wangxian #double happiness fic #double happiness verse #dragon!lwj #fox prince!wwx #lan wangji #wei wuxian #雙喜臨門 #my writing

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stiltonbasket · 4 years

Note

Nie mingjue is really talented in hairstyling and pedicures because he used to do it for nhs with his mom and Lxc is like the person he experiments his craft on and Lxc is just, he loves his big buff talented bf and on point nail designs

Lan Xichen is often complimented for his amazing sense of style and fashion; what no one knows is that Nie Mingjue is responsible for it. xD

#asks #nielan #art thief au

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 30

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse

They watch the lanterns from a rooftop terrace.

The inn itself is large and lovely. The front faces the main road, which crosses YiLing east to west, leading directly to the Immortal Mountain. The back opens into an enclosed garden, the tallow trees awash in autumn colors, hiding whatever unsightly neighbors may exist beyond their red-gold canopy of branches. It is difficult to fully conceal the haphazardness of YiLing, but the designer of the inn had cleverly used the landscape to obscure as much of the town as possible. One could easily imagine, if occupying the rooms and balconies facing the garden, that no such thing as overcrowded winehouses or street markets could exist in its vicinity.

In short, it is not a type of place where the Lan Sect would ever attempt to secure lodgings, nor would XiChen ever walk into its front halls of his own volition.

Nie MingJue has no such reservations. The innkeeper’s insistence that the terrace can only be accessed by the guests of the inn falls on deaf ears, and is soon completely silenced by Nie MingJue’s contemptuous glare. A simple glint of gold is enough to make XiChen’s Lan Sect uniform invisible. In moments, they are both personally escorted to the roof of the building.

The terrace is not large, and they are not alone. XiChen tucks himself into a corner overlooking the street, MingJue’s bulk easily blocking him from the sight of other patrons, preventing any unwanted attention. The towering mass of the Immortal Mountain is a black, indistinct shape to the west, a silent guardian watching over YiLing. The first lanterns are always released from the Emperor’s palace, and they seem to have arrived just in time to see them rising from a pitch black void between the earth and heavens, resembling handfuls of fading stars hanging low in the sky.

XiChen had assumed that YiLing may prove itself less disordered when seen from above, the way one can only see a large pattern from a distance. He is wrong. There truly is no sense or structure to be seen in its layout. Not a single street is free of someone shouting their wares, intricate roof ridge decorations arch next to weathered tiles that had long needed replacing, stubborn maples grow wherever they can find a spot of dirt and a flood of rain water.

He has not yet decided if he is pleased or disappointed by the discovery, when lanterns from YiLing follow those released from the Immortal Mountain, painting the town in light and color, chasing the darkness away. XiChen has seen the Lantern Festival many times in Gusu, twice during an unplanned stay in MoLing, and once during a particularly long Sect Leader conference in LanLing. The LanLing Jin grandiosity is difficult to match anywhere in the Empire, but XiChen has never seen so many lanterns at once, transforming night into day, hardly a slice of sky visible between them.

The parade traveling the street below them swells, loud and cheerful, the sheer profusion of chaos and noise impossible to ignore, even with such an impressive light show directly above them.

XiChen turns to MingJue, intending to ask if YiLing truly holds a different procession each night of the festival. The idea still seems extravagant to him, even if it is the Emperor’s birthday. But MingJue is looking at neither the lanterns, nor the parade below, his attentive gaze and half-formed smile focused entirely on XiChen.

XiChen forgets what he had meant to ask, and looks away again, his face heating.

They are standing close, to keep their distance from the other spectators gathered on the terrace. It is only a handful of guests, their voices indistinct murmurs, easily drowned out by the clamor from the street.

XiChen does not like feeling flustered, especially in the presence of strangers.

“Sect Leader--“

“You have asked me to call you by your name,” Nie MingJue says, his voice low, “and I have obeyed. But no matter how many times I ask, you will not do the same.”

XiChen folds his hands in his sleeves, to keep them steady and out of sight. The only sources of light on the terrace are the small, paper lamps decorating the inn roof, and even they only cast a reddish, muted glow. XiChen fervently hopes that their glow is faint enough to conceal the color in his cheeks.

“It would be improper,” he says.

Even as he speaks, he inwardly cringes at the absurdity of the words.

How hypocritical of him, to call such familiarity improper. Did he not allow the man to hold his hand whenever he wished? Had he not welcomed each advance with a smile? Can he not still feel the press of Nie MingJue’s palm on the small of his back?

And yet, regardless of how imprudent all his earlier behavior may be, he must draw a line somewhere. If not for the sake of propriety, then for the sake of his own sanity.

"Would it be less improper if I were to speak plainly of my admiration?”

Oh, XiChen thinks, breath leaving him in a rush.

Although this is something he had long suspected, to have it spoken out loud, to have it confirmed in such direct fashion, seems to be more than he had been prepared to handle. How can something be so thrilling, and yet cause so much confusion and misery?

“Even if you were to speak plainly,” XiChen says, struggling to keep his voice firm, “You would still be the General of the Emperor’s army, with duties to perform and a Sect to lead. And I-- I would still be the future leader of the Lan Sect. We should not speak of impossible things.”

“This is your only objection? Not my temper or disposition, but the circumstances of our individual positions?”

Mortified, XiChen imagines that his face must be as red as the lamps decorating the roof.

“You are being rather bold,” he says, “but I have found no other cause for disapproval.”

Nie MinJue falls silent. XiChen returns to watching the parade without truly seeing it, the trembling agitation in his chest refusing to settle.

Unexpectedly, he feels guilty, as if the circumstances which prevent him from speaking just as directly are somehow of his own making. The General of the Emperor’s army may bestow his admiration liberally, and he may do so as boldly as he pleases. Ultimately, Nie MingJue has nothing to lose. A small bit of lost pride in having to face rejection can be nothing to someone so highly esteemed. But XiChen, destined to lead a disgraced Sect, can never be so bold. The small bit of dignity he possesses might be pitiful and tattered, but he cannot put it aside, regardless of his heart’s desires.

A flash of white in the crowd is a welcome distraction, but even so, it takes him some time to recognize the Lan Sect robes, and even longer to realize why the sight of them is so jarring.

It is only one set of robes. One single disciple moving through the crowds, when uncle had been more than explicit in his instructions. They are always to travel in pairs, regardless of circumstances. There are a few places in the Empire where a lone Lan disciple may pass unscathed, but YiLing has never been one of them.

“XiChen?”

“I think something is wrong,” XiChen says, “that is Lan YunLi, and he should not be here. Not this late in the evening, and not alone.”

“Come,” Nie MingJue does not hesitate, “let us catch him before he disappears.”

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #nielan #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #moving right along chickens #ily

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re-rencc · 4 years

Text

Modern fashion designer Jiang Cheng headcanons:

-first of all, everybody lives bcs I’m to sensible to go trough this again

-he is a fashion king, and is the most extra person ever, one day you’ll see him rocking a purple suit with chains and shit and the very next day he is in GIANT purple sweater looking so fricking soft, and then, and then you expect to see him in his own house in sweatpants but he has the most fucking elegant sweatshirt

-he is a angry fashion designer, jiang Fengmian and madam yu never approved but he was already a failure at least make the most of it, his brother wei wuxian is a researcher or some scientific shit, while jiang Yanli is a kindergarten teacher because I need that in my life, in family dinner his parents are always asking like Yanli and wei wuxian abaout their jobs and then they turn to him and he is like, “oh, I’m doing a shirt out of dices to combine with my chest jump suit for this collection” and everyone is like, “would you like to elaborate” and he’s like “no, not really”

-he is kind to the models because he understands that it’s not their fault, but god bless the intern that dared to put the Uno themed collection into the summer section cus that bitch is about to get slapped

-talking about interns, wen ning is his principal assistant because his sister, who before coming out he thought he had a crush on (turns out he was just doing some heteronormative bullshit) and now is one of the only people who he tolerates, asked him if he could give him a job, he complained, yes, he accepted, yes, but now he could say wen ning is one of his closest friends

-he met lan Xichen in a runway because he’s brother dragged him and his younger brother (who he is dating) and holy shit, for once in his life did he stutter at the end of a runway, because damm, was he handsome

-they ended up talking about fashion and pollution, (because lan Xichen is involved in that, idk how) and decided to make a collaboration in a line of clothes that was friendly to the environment and it was a HIT, they fell in love someway along the way

-they made their own brand and in the brand building you’d see a men neat in a gray suit walking besides another man dressed like he had just raid goodwill

#jiang cheng #xicheng #modern mdzs #the untamed headcanon #mdzs headcanons #fashion desinger jiang cheng #lan xichen #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #i had this on my mind #i know its a disaster #but im tired of modern jiang cheng dressing like a hobo when in canon he goes shopping as therapy #shopping as therapy #like have you seen him #his robes #outrageous

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touchmycoat · 3 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts from the smut list: 5, 7, 12 or 22 for He Xuan / LQG. Sexual or not, considering the leverage!au, those quotes could be job related.@.@

((Smut dialogue prompts))

5. “Take your clothes off. Right now.” 7. “Hands behind your back.” 12. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” 22. “Look how good you take it.”

Word Count: 3267 Leverage!AU

(i)

"Take your clothes off. Right now."

Liu Qingge was halfway out of his shirt before he really registered the order, and then He Xuan was next to him yanking the shirt off the rest of the way before Liu Qingge could pull it back down.

"Pants."

"Back off," Liu Qingge tried to snap, but was quickly losing ground as He Xuan backed him up among the racks of clothes and stage design props. And when he smacked He Xuan's hands away from his belt, He Xuan smacked his hand right back with his own belt buckle.

"You heard her," He Xuan said, low and dangerous in something that sounded a lot like the fuck around and find out voice he reserved for marks. "Models and designers only."

"So you be the model."

He Xuan tugged Liu Qingge's belt off with a neat yank. Then he took a step back and folded his arms.

"Fine. Then talk fashion."

Liu Qingge had to resist the urge to fold his arms in mirror, because in his current state, it would look just a little too much like he was covering himself up out of shyness.

"Shen Qingqiu?" he snapped into his earpiece.

"Sorry," Shen Qingqiu coughed. "All I know are brand names."

"Come on, Liu Qingge," Luo Binghe chimed in, all schadenfreude, "you were hired for your body."

"And not to rush but Lan Xichen is being held hostage..."

"Fine." Glaring vicious murder, Liu Qingge thrust out a hand at He Xuan. "What do I wear?"

With a smug not-smile, He Xuan turned on his heel and tossed the long end of Liu Qingge's belt over his shoulder. When the leather smacked against his back, Liu Qingge's gaze flickered.

"You're not wearing anything," He Xuan snorted. "Just shut up, follow me, and flex."

(ii)

"State police! Nobody move!"

He Xuan, slipping his fake detective badge away, of course made for Liu Qingge first, who stood in the middle of a pile of broken noses and unconscious bodies, as was his wont. A frenetic, giddy smile split the mark's bloody mouth (which had already been split once by Liu Qingge, before the private security forces moved in) as four policemen stepped into the room.

He Xuan grabbed Liu Qingge by the back of the neck like an errant puppy and shoved him face-first against the wall.

"Hands behind your back."

Behind him, the mark was babbling some thank god, where have you been bullshit, but He Xuan was too busy not-smirking at Liu Qingge's hissed curses when the cuffs went on too tight. Then there was a hand on his elbow. For the sake of the con, He Xuan didn't tear the man's arm off.

(Didn't unleash Liu Qingge on him; what the mark got a taste of before was really just a friendly nip.)

"Cheng Luan, was it?" He Xuan growled into Liu Qingge's ear. "I've been looking forward to this moment for a long time."

"Hey, excuse me—"

Then he was hauling Liu Qingge around to bury a fist in Liu Qingge's gut. It was real—it had to be at this proximity—but He Xuan had already given Liu Qingge's stomach a little tap to signal where he was going to hit. His knuckles found flexed muscles, but Liu Qingge doubled over anyways.

"Whoa, whoa hey—"

With a palm over Liu Qingge's jaw, He Xuan pulled him up and squeezed. Liu Qingge's pupils were completely blown when he glared at He Xuan.

"Wait just a moment, look, are you, are you one of them?"

He Xuan gave Liu Qingge's face another little shake, and Liu Qingge actually growled. Adorable.

"I'm talking to you!"

"What?" He Xuan finally snapped back, tossing a look of annoyance down at the CEO-of-the-week beside him.

"I'm asking," the mark said, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "if you're one of the dirty cops I pay off! Holy Christ, you really are all just a bunch of meatheads, huh? Don't know anything but violence, but it's fine, you're doing me a favor here. Make sure he goes away for good for me, alright? Whatever you did to that last Chen guy, I want you to double for him. I'll pay you double too, just make sure he really, really suffers."

Rabid blood-thirst slipping away in an instant, He Xuan moved his grip down into Liu Qingge's shirt collar and pulled Liu Qingge up straight. There was a loud plastic snap, as Liu Qingge broke the fake link in the cuff behind his torso.

"Hear that? He wants you to really suffer," He Xuan said as he plucked the detective badge out of his pocket and tossed it across the room. As they walked past the dumbstruck mark, Liu Qingge got right up into his face.

"He's lucky I didn't break his jaw."

"I don't—You're not real cops?!"

He Xuan didn't know how the mark hadn't pieced it together yet—he'd already answered that question with the detective's badge. One of the four men who'd entered with him—real police officers—had caught it, and pocketed it with the solemnity that spoke volumes about whom that badge belonged to. A fallen cop, perhaps, one set up and ambushed by his own, who were in turn on the payroll of a local arms-dealing CEO.

"You actually punched me," Liu Qingge complained on their way out. He Xuan eyed the halved handcuffs still hanging from his wrists, and the skin rubbed red beneath the teeth.

"You're the one who told me I wasn't putting my hip into it."

(iii)

The cuffs this time were real. At Xie Lian's light-voiced, inflection-less call, He Xuan hauled Liu Qingge out into the swimming pool.

"Is this the man who's been giving you trouble?"

The trafficker smiled, toothy and depraved, as he drank in the sight of Liu Qingge's bare feet and torn clothing. Liu Qingge jerked forward in He Xuan's grip and spat at his feet.

"Sang Jingxing, I'm going to fucking ruin you!" he promised.

"Master Fangxin," Sang Jingxing applauded, "you truly exceed your reputation. This man's managed to avoid me for days."

Weeks, actually, but He Xuan didn't bother calling him out on it. He let Xie Lian's mild little smile take care of that.

"You've proven your skills..." Sang Jingxing continued, glossing over the look. "Alright, you've got a deal."

Xie Lian touched Sang Jingxing's outstretched hand with the very tip of two fingers in lieu of a handshake. His hands were even gloved.

"Thank you for your time, Master Sang. We'll be on our way now."

"Ah, just a moment." Of them three, only Liu Qingge's feet slipped on the tiles, and that was because they were meant to, with He Xuan hoisting him half-up in the air like this. "Master Fangxin, if you'd be so kind—I like to do all my inquiries and reconnaissance in-house."

Meaning, he wanted to keep Liu Qingge. With any other underground criminal boss, the threat would be torture by electricity, blunt force trauma, and dismemberment. Sang Jingxing had all of the above plus one favored trick up his sleeve—one that made the slip of Xie Lian's eyes over to him go icy cold.

"Ah yes," Xie Lian said, smiling just barely, "I've heard of Master Sang's proclivities. Several stories involve this precise setting, I believe—a VIP hotel swimming pool. With as many men."

Sang Jingxing chuckled, and so did the eight bodyguards poised around his surroundings.

"Drains and plenty of water, you understand," Sang Jingxing leered. "Gentlemen like yourself always frown upon a touch of more libidinous fun. Such a shame, for a figure like yourself."

"I'm going to tear out his eyeballs," Hua Cheng said calmly through the comms, and He Xuan thought he saw a touch of genuine humor light the corner of Xie Lian's mouth.

"It's true I don't personally participate in such methods, but you've got the wrong idea," Xie Lian spoke, shrugging. He waved a hand in gesture to He Xuan. "It's simply that I've already promised my trusty lieutenant here the same reward."

"No, you're certain? Then he simply must demonstrate." Simpering, Sang Jingxing clapped once and loudly, the sharp sound echoing through the tiled room. Liu Qingge was stiffening in He Xuan's hold. "Such a fine specimen—I actually said to my men how lucky we were that a man like that was coming after me. Surely you won't deny me a taste?"

Xie Lian had really perfected the look of heedless nobility, completely ignorant to the suffering of people beneath his station.

"If Ming Yi doesn't mind, I certainly don't."

He Xuan was instantly in motion, marching Liu Qingge forward and slamming him over the nearest table. He had to swipe aside fruits and cakes and coffees to do it. With Liu Qingge bent over, he tore one sleeve of Liu Qingge's shirt clean off, before moving down to Liu Qingge's pants.

They hadn't planned out of any of this, but Liu Qingge knew damn well there was only one thing he was meant to do in this position—he struggled like his honor depended on it (and it certainly did), bucking and kicking and twisting even after He Xuan slammed his forehead twice into the table.

"Feisty," He Xuan heard Sang Jingxing comment gleefully. "Just say the word if you want any help."

"My lieutenant's not a fan of touching what other people have soiled," Xie Lian commented idly, to Sang Jingxing's chuckles.

When a toss of Liu Qingge's head almost broke He Xuan's nose, He Xuan's hand found a roll of plastic wrap sitting by the fruits. This was the good stuff too, translucent and thick, breakable only by blades.

Forcing Liu Qingge down with a well-jabbed elbow, He Xuan flung the box off the roll of wrap and yanked a clear film over Liu Qingge's face. Fast as anything, he pushed the roll through the crook of his elbow and wrapped another bunched-up loop over Liu Qingge's neck.

Then he started pulling. Liu Qingge's back arched, plastic divoting instantly into his mouth, into his nostrils on an inhale. When he exhaled, He Xuan adjusted his left hand, pulling the cling film even tighter to not let any air in or out. Soon enough, the noises of Liu Qingge's ragged choking were echoing through the room.

"Wha—He Xuan?" came Shen Qingqiu's voice over the comms, alarmed. "Liu Qingge? What's going on? Xie Lian?"

"Alright, alright! That's enough!" Sang Jingxing said, laughing brightly and clapping his hands. "Don't whet my appetite if you're not going to feed it. You can take him, but on the off-chance there are any pieces left, why don't you have your man bring it back around? I'm less persnickety about those sorts of things than your man."

"I'll see what I can do," Xie Lian replied. "Ming Yi."

But He Xuan still hadn't let up. He could feel each of Liu Qingge's unfinished breaths lose rhythm in their panic, Liu Qingge's body going slack under his weight. Still, he kept his hands taught, leaning forward and pinning Liu Qingge's hips to the table with his—

"He has to sell it, A-Yuan-ge, Sang Jingxing's only testing—"

"Ming Yi."

He Xuan halted. Released his hands.

Liu Qingge spat the plastic wrap off his face and promptly vomited bile onto the table.

"I said, we're leaving." Xie Lian's voice this time was icy, and Sang Jingxing almost clasped Xie Lian's shoulder with a sympathetic hand until he thought better of it.

"Everybody gets carried away sometimes. Boys will be boys."

And he had the nerve to wink at He Xuan. If He Xuan were any less good at keeping his own feelings under wraps, he'd have hauled across the room and beaten Sang Jingxing to a pulp by now.

"I have no use for attack dogs that don't follow my order," was all Xie Lian had to say on that. He inclined his head, and that was all the order He Xuan needed to pull Liu Qingge up again and march him back out the room.

(Ignoring what felt like a very little but very real flinch when his hand closed over Liu Qingge's shoulder.)

A bit later, they parted ways with Xie Lian, who would make his exit through the hotel lobby. He Xuan and Liu Qingge took a circuitous route to the back of the hotel garage, where Liu Qingge shrugged off He Xuan's gesture to help, instead marching over ten meters of rough gravel ground on bare feet to get to his shoes and their car.

"Oooh," Luo Binghe murmured in his I'm-cracking-a-safe-so-have-little-brain-to-mouth-filter voice. "Trouble in paradise?"

"That's why you should always ask for consent before choking people," Shen Qingqiu mumbled mutinously. "Liu-xuedi, can you even speak right now?"

Liu Qingge snarled, but didn't answer, which definitely meant that he knew his voice would be compromised. A rough red line was carved across the left side of his neck where He Xuan had applied most pressure, and He Xuan couldn't help but stare at it when they got into the car.

It wasn't until Liu Qingge smacked a hand against his steering wheel that He Xuan looked up, and saw Liu Qingge mouth clearly and angrily, drive!

Pressing on the cabin lights above their heads, He Xuan articulated his motions as he moved in to pluck the earpiece from Liu Qingge's ear. Then he did the same for himself, gathering the two comm pieces into one fist. Liu Qingge looked at him with a distrustful frown the whole time.

"I'm sorry," He Xuan said, simply and honestly. He didn't bother giving any reasons or excuses or promises, only his regret, pure and true.

Liu Qingge watched him back for one long moment, before rolling his eyes.

You had to take off the comms to apologize? he mouthed, clearly angling his face and exaggerating his lip movements for He Xuan to see. Something tight between He Xuan's lungs loosened and slipped away, and He Xuan turned back to face the steering wheel, the tight line of his own lips relaxing.

"Sorry," he said, dropping the comms into the cup-holder between them. "I don't read lips."

(iv)

"Xuedi, you know my money's on Binghe," Shen Qingqiu had shrugged.

"And I'd bet on you, Liu Qingge, but I'm afraid with my luck, you wouldn't want me to," Xie Lian had laughed apologetically.

"He Xuan," Liu Qingge now demanded to know, rounding on He Xuan and crossing his arms. He Xuan just adjusted his glasses and kept typing on his computer. "Who's your money on?"

They were after a black widow predator, so of course Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge had made the bachelor auction into a competition.

By the door, Luo Binghe was rolling his eyes.

"Oh sure, go crying to daddy when you're losing a bet—"

He Xuan personally thought Luo Binghe, of all people, had no business mocking other people's relationships with the term "daddy." But that wasn't why he interrupted.

"Keep talking, Luo Binghe, and I'm changing my mind."

Luo Binghe brightened, standing up straight.

"Wait, you mean?"

"A hundred on you."

Whooping with a brilliant and admittedly handsome grin, Luo Binghe lifted his chin at Liu Qingge in a gesture of triumph.

"Told you I'm going to get a higher bid. But chin up, maybe you'll defy all, and I do mean all expectations and take home the pot. Cheers, He Xuan."

With that, he left, closing He Xuan's apartment door behind him, leaving only He Xuan and a very, very betrayed-lookng Liu Qingge standing inside.

He Xuan finally shut his laptop screen and looked up, meeting Liu Qingge's glare with an unapologetic look of his own.

"Yes?"

With a huff of disbelief, Liu Qingge turned and stormed away. Mid-storm, he paused, pivoted, and stormed right back.

"You're always—!" He jabbed a finger into He Xuan's chest, and He Xuan let him. He Xuan even circled over to the other side of the counter to let him. "Mocking me."

With a sound of agreement, He Xuan took a step closer. And as always, Liu Qingge read exactly what he wanted in a gesture, and didn't back away, despite clearly wanting to stomp off somewhere and lick his wounded pride in peace.

He Xuan nudged up his chin with a single knuckle, and allowed himself something just a tiny bit smaller than a smile, but no less true.

"And look how good you take it."

(iv)

It started after they stole an election, and then a country, and then took down Wen Ruohan.

"Take your clothes off. Right now."

It caught aflame between bright, almost disbelieving stares that they'd pulled off such a thing, and that Lang Qianqiu was now legally the president-elect.

"Hands behind your back."

It surged into all-consuming fire with Liu Qingge, all pliant limbs and steel-certain center as always, making his way into He Xuan's hotel room.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you."

"I fucking dare you."

It found them encased in sunlight, warm and oven-hot on this tiny European island. Luckily, the AC was on full blast, cooling the room enough that Liu Qingge and He Xuan could comfortably heat it back up again.

Indeed, Liu Qingge was sweating, and He Xuan was wiping his own forehead and body clean with a wet washcloth by the open-planning bathroom sink. At a leisurely pace, He Xuan twisted open a complimentary glass bottle of sparkling water and quenched his own thirst.

He made sure to gulp loudly enough that Liu Qingge, panting and grunting on the bed, could hear what he was doing. And sure enough, Liu Qingge growled in response.

A look of pleasure broke out over He Xuan's face, and he strolled back to bed, dangling another bottle between his fingers. He didn't open it though, opting instead to watch the little show he'd left going on the bed.

They'd co-opted one of the hotel curtain rails and some white satin curtain ties. The rail was currently tied between Liu Qingge's ankles as a make-do spreader bar. When he was fucking Liu Qingge, He Xuan had hauled that spreader bar far over Liu Qingge's head, hooking the center over a point on the headboard. Beneath Liu Qingge's thus-lifted ass, his hands were tied, wrist-to-wrist by yet another white curtain tie.

After he'd finished and before he'd gone for a towel and a drink, He Xuan had said, if you want me to fuck you again, don't let any of my cum leak out.

So now Liu Qingge was left to compress and contort himself every time he felt He Xuan's spend leaking out of him. When he saw He Xuan so blatantly watching, Liu Qingge went red—but that didn't stop him from gritting his teeth and chasing after a leaking trail with his straining fingers.

He Xuan hummed, pleased, as Liu Qingge fingered the cum back into himself, which inevitably just smeared white liquid even more messily over his exposed hole and the flesh of his ass.

"Look how good you take it," He Xuan murmured, getting back onto the bed.

Due to his position, Liu Qingge sounded a bit winded as he spoke, all of his abdominal muscles engaged to keep his hips and legs up like so.

"Don't you ever get tired of giving orders?"

It was a lighthearted complain, as meaningless as Liu Qingge, such a meaningful man, could make anything sound. It might have struck a nerve in He Xuan on any other day, but on this day, it liquefied in his belly and turned to warmth, pleasant like hot tea.

Because he understood that against all odds, this was Liu Qingge understanding him. Liu Qingge's exasperation, rather than humiliation or frustration at being put in such a position and given such a task, was proof that he knew what it was that made He Xuan tick. He got it, He Xuan's thing with orders.

That was why he was so damn good at taking them.

So He Xuan cracked open the second bottle of water and placed it between Liu Qingge's palms. Lifted an eyebrow when Liu Qingge realized He Xuan had no intention to help him get that bottle to his mouth (or vice versa—as such, it might actually be easier for him to get his mouth to the bottle).

"To you?" He Xuan murmured as he sat back against the pillows to watch the show. "Never."

#leverage AU #he xuan #liu qingge #THANKS FOR THE PROMPT BABE I REALLY YELLED YES OUT LOUD UP AT THE SKY #hot fucking damn and before i knew it shit was 3k #i'll...probably tidy this up and slap it on ao3 #YOUR MIND #SO FUCKING BRILLIANT #MADE ME SO GODDAMN PARCHED #prompt fill

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starshinegoblin · 3 years

Text

Hello You

Day: 01 - Strangers Rating: G Pairings: M: #Xicheng BG: #Sangyu, #WeiNing 📷 Tags: Modern/NoPowers; First Meetings; Fluff; Mentions of beginning of Online Stalking.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ “Oh we’ve got to try out this store. Wei Wuxian.” Nie Huaisang grinned, pointing to the sleek black building that was a lingerie store. “I know that you’ve looking to spice up your wardrobe!” He snickered, the fan he’d chosen making the sweet smelling perfume he’d chosen to wear today mix more into the air. While it was nice, it wasn’t Jiang Cheng’s taste. He shifted his gaze to the bookstore.

Twin Jades Meets Books

“Cute.” Jiang Cheng murmured under his breath seeing the rolling clouds with two jumping bunnies chasing a book for a logo. The design of the building is that new modern industrial vibe with metal, glass, and wood accents. From the massive large windows he could see there was hanging plants and he wondered if the tree he was seeing was real or fake. His curiosity was piqued though.

“What’s cute?” Wei Wuxian asked, having heard his best friend. His grey eyes followed Jiang Cheng’s line of sight. When he saw that it was the bookstore, he wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him close. “Oh, I see. You’d rather be with your stuffy books then come try on some silk.”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng told him bluntly. Because to be honest the last time he’d let himself get roped into going into a lingerie store with the two of them. He ended up on the receiving end of a fashion show and hadn’t wanted to know the preferences of their lovers nor see that much of their bodies. “Save that much of yourself for your precious Wen Ning and his, Mo Xuanyu.”

“It’s not like you’ve not seen it before!”

“Yes and I wished I hadn’t, we are best friends not friends with benefits and no A-Sang that isn’t an invitation. Now go to your lingerie store and let me shop in peace at the bookstore.” Jiang Cheng stated, shrugging off Wei Wuxian’s arm. The two of them sputtered before ultimately leaving him to go ahead to check out the store alone.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The moment he stepped through the door there was a soft chime to let the workers know that someone had entered the store. He was surprised to find that the store didn’t have a heavy book smell but one of tea and the flowers growing inside. And that wasn’t the only thing growing inside. His sight went to the large tree in the center of the store. It wasn’t a fake one but a real living tree with a plexiglass enclosure. He hadn’t understood why till he got closer to find that there were bunnies of different shades that hung out with the tree and their toys.

Cute . He thought again. It made him wonder just what the twin jades were like for having a bookstore like this. He stood there for a few moments longer before heading to look for some books that he’d been wanting to read and review for his youtube channel. His first instinct was to go to thrillers and suspense to look for her but couldn’t find any of the books.

There was a jingling of bracelets that caught his attention. There to his right, amongst the stacks, was possibly the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He was dressed simply with a long white button down shirt and skinny jeans beneath a pale blue apron. His long obviously dyed silver hair was in a high ponytail exposing his long neck. The earrings he wore were dainty and a delicate silver chandelier style that accentuated it. His white button down had the sleeves rolled up exposing his wrists. On the right hand was the jade bracelet with the matching silver bangles that caused him to look.

Oh, who are you . Jiang Cheng thought. Though he was sure because of the jade bracelet meant he was one of the jades.

He must have felt his gaze because suddenly a set of golden brown eyes met his. Then came the most attractive smile that made butterflies of desire flutter in his gut. Then he’d spoken to him in that soft, smooth timbered voice.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t hear you come in. Do you need help finding anything?” The man asked, putting the book that'd been in the crook of his other arm on the shelf in front of him.

“Yes, I am looking for the Cut and Run series. I went over to thrillers but it wasn’t there?” Jiang Cheng answered, making his own voice softer.

“Oh! That’s because it’s also a romance series. It’s more focused on the murders at the beginning but when the lead’s relationship develops you see more of the romance.” the taller man reasoned “I can take you to them if you like.”

“Yes, please.’ Jiang Cheng answered, following the man to where the books were sitting on a display at the other end of the aisle.

“Here they are and a good choice. I’ve even heard that they might turn her series into a drama.” the man cheerfully added, “But if you like Cut and Run then you’re going to lover her book, Gravedigger’s Brawl. It is such a good one.” His elegant hand running over the cover of said book. “Especially if you’re into the gothic romance.”

“I am. So I’ll take this one too while I am at it.” Jiang Cheng stated, lifting a copy of that book too.

“You won’t be disappointed. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No thank you, Lan Xichen.” Jiang Cheng answered, gaze dropping down to the man’s apron where his name was hand stitched into the top right corner. His grin widened at seeing the man become puzzled for a moment then realized his name was on his apron.

“Oh, right. I can check you out if you want.” Lan Xichen offered, holding his hands out for the books to which Jiang Cheng gladly handed him the books. Together they made their way over to the register. Where Lan Xichen rang him up. Instead of paying for it in cash, he wanted the beautiful man to know his name since he hadn’t asked for it. That didn’t bother him at all though. It appeared the other was shy. There was nothing wrong with being reserved. So he’d handed him his card. Lan Xichen didn’t disappoint him in checking his name on it. It only made those butterflies he’d been feeling swarm.

“Hav-ve a nice day Jiang Wanyin.” Lan Xichen stammered a little in his goodbye as he handed him his paper bag of books. A lovely blush blooming on his cheeks.

“You too, Lan Xichen. ” Jiang Cheng responded, taking his leave. An old ache in his chest and a burn in his gut kept that smile on his face the rest of the day. It’d been too long since he felt like this. See, finding someone that he could instantaneously connect with like that was rare. He just needed to be sure that Lan Xichen was the right fit for his heart. He didn’t want to get hurt again. So he’d do his research. It wasn’t hard to find out about someone in this technological world. follow the series for the event

#XichengClipse #Xicheng #Sangyu #WeiNing #First Meetings #Strangers #mentions of beginning of online stalking #fluff

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paradoxspaceheater · 4 years

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you said qin su headcanons? 🤲

yesss ok

first off—since she’s obviously not the sect heir, i’m assuming she isn’t an only child. i gave her three older siblings! (i’m not going to name them bc i don’t like naming ocs, she calls them da-ge, er-ge, and a-jie, so for the sake of simplicity i will too) her da-ge also has a young daughter (a few years older than jin rusong though!) and her a-jie is the lady of the runan wang sect (she’s married to wang jin from the donghua lol) and probably has a child or two as well

qin su is a cultivator, although she has more skill with talismans than swordplay, and she prefers to solve her problems with diplomacy rather than fighting

she’s a naturally kind and caring person and she’s very good at making people feel calm and comfortable. she’s slightly conflict avoidant and always the first to suggest a compromise, and it takes a whole lot to make her angry

she’s very tolerant and accepting! like. she probably thought wei wuxian was misunderstood tbh. abilities include hospitality and treating everybody with basic respect

she loves fashion and interior design. just like. absolutely goes ham for nice colors, especially pastels. she Will do your hair if you’re good friends with her

she and lan xichen are Good Friends! (you will pry this hc from my cold dead hands) they actually have a lot in common, and will occasionally bitch about people/politics together (or well. whatever the equivalent of that is for the ridiculously kind kskskdkdkd)

she and jgy are a political power couple ngl. they’ll smile at you in synch while absolutely fucking you over about like. trade deals or whatever. i mentioned this in my ace jgy post but she’s aware of and cool with the fact that he isn’t interested in having sex with her (although she obviously doesn’t know the full story rip) they just chill and do each other’s hair it would be cute if not for the inherent deceptive nature of their relationship

let’s round this off with a sad one—she really likes kids and loved being a mother, and got really depressed after jin rusong died. while the story about her being unable to conceive another child is false, it’s true that she couldn’t bear the idea of replacing a-song

#qin su #mdzs #oh also shes bi and i highkey like the idea of her ending up with mianmian in au #omg an ask #anon

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

LXC offhandedly says something about his relationship with NHS that would be totally innocent from *anyone* else, but sounds scandalously filthy coming from *him*. Bonus points if it's around LWJ and/or WWX and they are floored. Double bonus points if he did it on purpose for revenge over having to listen to *them* all the time. - 🦇

Petty - ao3

The first time was an accident.

No, that wasn’t right. More accurately, the first time was entirely Wei Wuxian’s fault.

(Lan Xichen sometimes thought, not very kindly, that many things were, more than Lan Wangji would necessarily admit to. He had not yet settled with himself if those were his actual thoughts or if it was merely bitterness about everything that had happened and in which Wei Wuxian had played chief role, but that was one of the things he was working on, for himself.

After all those years of being deceived, it was important for him to get to know his own mind, his own thoughts, and to be sure about them.)

“It’s good to see you out and about,” Wei Wuxian said warmly to him when they met again, as if Lan Xichen had only been confined at home with a brief illness rather than in strict seclusion for over a year.

Lan Xichen thought, perhaps, that Wei Wuxian was attempting to translate for Lan Wangji, standing beside him, practically radiating welcome and hopefulness and other such things that Lan Xichen honestly wasn’t equipped to deal with at the moment and had been purposefully ignoring. If so, it was not a very accurate translation, and unnecessary – no one knew his brother better than him.

Certainly not his brother’s long-dead lost love, who hadn’t even known.

“Indeed,” he said, not smiling, and Wei Wuxian’s own smile faded a little, as Lan Wangji’s own hope already had. “Nie Huaisang will be coming to visit me, and I plan to host him at the hanshi.”

That might also have been at Lan Wangji’s request, although only obliquely, if at all – even when he had appeared at his weakest, his most fallible and pathetic, Nie Huaisang had always been as stubborn as an ox (as stubborn as his brother), and no one could make him do anything he didn’t want to do. This included running his own sect, no matter how much they had tried, and it also included actually listening to the people he’d just begged to solve problems for him. Lan Xichen could remember all the countless times Nie Huaisang had sobbed on his shoulder, and Jin Guangyao’s, too, until they’d given him advice, at which point he would thank them effusively and merrily go along and do whatever he felt like doing regardless. He was very good at getting his own way in the end.

As subsequent events had shown.

Lan Xichen could tell from the expression on Wei Wuxian’s face that he didn’t understand why Lan Xichen would choose to break his seclusion to host Nie Huaisang of all people, especially when he had declined all similar efforts by Lan Wangji, but he wasn’t especially inclined to explain.

If he even could.

How to explain that contemplation had shown that he had been the one to fail Nie Huaisang and not the other way around? Long before they’d ever sworn brotherhood, he had promised Nie Mingjue to watch over Nie Huaisang and aid him whole-heartedly in all his endeavors. Nie Mingjue had always worried, first and foremost, that Nie Huaisang not be lonely, knowing that his brother, born with a weak body, had long struggled with finding his place in his martially-inclined sect – everything else was secondary in Nie Mingjue’s mind, even Nie Huaisang’s personal safety. He’d always said that Nie Huaisang was a proper Nie in that fashion, that he would devote every part of him to the things he loved no matter if it meant death, and there was nothing anyone could do about it; all he’d ever wanted, instead, was for Nie Huaisang not to be alone as he did so.

Lan Xichen had sworn to be there for him.

He hadn’t been.

He’d sworn to stand beside Nie Mingjue, too, promised it in his heart and in the eyes of all the world, and he’d even meant it when he’d done so. And then, despite it all, he’d spent nearly half his life supporting and shielding his murderer – he’d broken so many promises. To the Nie, to himself. The only thing Lan Xichen could do to atone for those failures was to try to do better: to learn from what he’d done, to teach himself what he’d lacked, to make up for his deficiencies. To live up to what little remained of those promises.

And so, if Nie Huaisang wanted to see him, he would see him, even if he had seen no one else.

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand that.

Couldn’t, maybe.

Wei Wuxian was his brother-in-law, he made Lan Wangji happy, and Lan Xichen was grateful for that. He was even grateful, in a painful, agonizing sort of way, for Wei Wuxian’s help in revealing the truth about Jin Guangyao and his dark deeds. But Wei Wuxian forgot pain as soon as it happened and believed everyone else ought to be the same: they were together now, so never mind about all those years Lan Wangji spent alone and in mourning; Jin Guangyao had been a murderer, so never mind about all the good things he’d done or the good times they’d shared; Lan Xichen was out of seclusion, so clearly he’d gotten over everything that had happened.

At least for Lan Xichen, pain did not work that way.

“Well, that’s nice,” Wei Wuxian said after a while, when the silence had gone from merely familiar to actively awkward and Lan Wangji was staring at the ground, his hopes dashed to bits, even though that had not been Lan Xichen’s intent. He loved his brother very much, but he couldn’t heal himself fast enough to assuage Lan Wangji’s guilt at winning his happiness at the expense of Lan Xichen’s pain, nor did he intend to try. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

Lan Xichen did not point out that he was Sect Leader, not Lan Wangji, and that his word was final regarding who did and did not have the right to enter the Cloud Recesses at any time. It would be petty.

He was trying not to be petty. It was very hard.

“I hope to spend some quality time together with him,” Lan Xichen finally said, some meaningless filler designed to let them get out of the current conversational impasse, and was bewildered when Wei Wuxian, possibly inspired by the high tension of the moment, burst out in raucous laughter, reaching out to elbow Lan Wangji in the side.

“I bet you will,” he said, his tone almost jeering. “Quality time, yeah? Just the two of you together in the hanshi and everything.”

It wasn’t until Lan Wangji’s ears reddened slightly that Lan Xichen comprehended what Wei Wuxian was implying. That he had left a year’s seclusion because, what, he wanted to hop into bed with Nie Huaisang?

The mere notion was so puerile that it could barely be considered as rising to the level of a joke, the implication not only crude but actively cruel and disdainful of all the work Lan Xichen had done to put himself back together over the past year, and Lan Xichen had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to respond.

He glanced at Lan Wangji, wondering if his brother would say something – apologize, maybe – but he was clearly unable or unwilling to help. Finally, he shook his head and walked away.

That was the first time.

The second time – and many of the other times thereafter – were not accidental at all.

Talking with Nie Huaisang had been wretchedly painful but cleansing, necessary, just as his silent and extended contemplation in seclusion had been. They had not wholly forgiven each other for everything that had happened, whether the harms they had knowingly or unknowingly inflicted or for the agonies they had each suffered, but they were on a path to get there together – each one of them agreeing to learn from what had happened, to try to extend trust to each other, real trust, so that neither of them had to continue on their lonely roads alone.

It might be nearly two decades late, but Lan Xichen was determined to make good on his promise to Nie Mingjue, and Nie Huaisang equally determined in his own way to live up to what his brother would have wanted now that it was an option.

One unexpected aspect of this, interestingly, was how the clash between their values – Lan sect rules, Nie sect principles – gave rise to any number of very interesting analytical conversations. Nie Huaisang was a poor scholar for rules that required rote memorization to learn, but he understood his sect’s moral code down to his bones, well enough to be able to fashion himself a path within it. When pressed for his thoughts on any given subject, his arguments were well-fashioned, logical, and difficult to refute.

Lan Xichen had not enjoyed himself so much in years.

Even in the days when he had wholly believed in Jin Guangyao, his former friend was simply too facile to have a proper back-and-forth with: he would always yield, or seem to, or else dance around the main subject until they were on another on which they could agree; he had always prioritized good feeling over intellecutal growth. He’d never understood what enjoyment could be gotten out of standing your ground on some theoretical or philosophical issue.

At any rate, one of the points Nie Huaisang had won, curiously enough, was in regards to the subject of pettiness: bad in large doses, but acceptable in small, in his view. He compared it to venting frustrations or to understanding and indulging oneself in the positive sense – if you’re a petty person, he said matter-of-factly, you can try to improve yourself, but you’re not going accept yourself unless you just admit it. If that’s the sort of person you were, you wouldn’t get anywhere constantly resisting the urge to fight things out in petty, stupid ways.

Sometimes you just wanted to get into it over something stupid because otherwise you’d get into it over something important, and that was, in Nie Huaisang’s view, not a bad thing: if someone got in your face, get back in theirs.

Lan Xichen was, in many ways, a petty person.

“So, how is Nie Huaisang doing?” Wei Wuxian asked when lunch was not entirely over. Etiquette dictated that Lan Xichen had to respond, and family rules that he knew Wei Wuxian knew made clear it was impermissible to talk over meals: the only acceptable solution, therefore, was for him to consider his half-eaten meal as already complete, respond, and wait until dinner to fill up. And all because Wei Wuxian simply couldn’t wait another half-ke to blurt out his question, because he was too free and unrestrained to honor the rules of the family he had married into just because he personally didn’t think they were important. “Where is he, anyway? I would’ve thought he’d be here with us.”

Lan Xichen put down his bowl with just a little extra more force than he should, enough to make it clink against the table, and Lan Wangji’s eyes tightened a little at the unusual display of irritation.

“He’s still in bed,” Lan Xichen said mildly. “I’m afraid I rather wore him out last night.”

Wei Wuxian choked, misunderstanding, just as Lan Xichen had intended him to.

They’d gotten onto an interesting subject of conversation and had ended up talking most of the previous day’s afternoon and evening, as it happened, and Nie Huaisang was still a sect leader, with important business to attend to; Lan Xichen was fairly sure that after he had retired at the usual time for his sect, Nie Huaisang had worked until nearly dawn. Anyway, Nie Huaisang wasn’t much for set meal-times, not even by Wei Wuxian’s lax standards; he’d shared an early breakfast with Lan Xichen before going to sleep.

“Perhaps you can speak with him later, if you need him,” Lan Xichen said, folding his hands in front of him. “I will pass along your regards when I return to the hanshi. Which I should do now, in fact: I have some correspondence I need to attend to.”

Lan Xichen wondered if Wei Wuxian even noticed that his words signified Lan Xichen’s graceful removal of the work of sect correspondence from Lan Wangji, returning it into his own hands. Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji had managed sect business between them during Lan Xichen’s seclusion, and both had recognized that even though he had emerged from that seclusion he was still very much in the midst of his recovery and neither had tried to push him back into the role of Sect Leader. His announcement that he needed to attend to correspondence indicated that he was shouldering that burden once more – moreover, it was, by Lan sect standards, a rather vicious snub to make the announcement of the transition a public one, however subtle the wording, especially when he did not similarly make any sort of announcement regarding the work his uncle was managing on his behalf.

Petty.

Unnecessarily petty, really – it wasn’t Lan Wangji’s fault that he’d married a man who couldn’t even after all this time comprehend that sometimes you valued something because someone else did, even if you yourself didn’t care for or understand it.

It was, however, his fault in not putting a stop to Wei Wuxian’s rudeness.

It wasn’t actually hard for a grown man to at least try to respect a rule as basic as do not speak during meals, or for that matter the one about not making tremendous noise late at night when you knew everyone else was sleeping. Having previously been in seclusion, Lan Xichen wasn’t aware of how bad it had gotten, with disciples rearranging their living quarters further and further away from any place Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian might be found breaking the rules against excessive promiscuity – and really, Lan Wangji should know better. No one was asking that he refrain from being in love, even extravagantly so, but they did live in a community, and he ought to have basic respect for others, even if it meant occasionally saying no to his beloved long-lost and miraculously reunited lover.

Lan Xichen knew how hard it was for him to say no, of course; he suffered from the same generosity of spirit as his brother. But hadn’t everything that had happened a year ago shown the folly of always saying yes?

“Ah, Wei-xiong,” Lan Xichen said a few days later when they crossed paths in the middle of the day. “Are you on your way to the apothecary? Could I ask you to pick up a few items for me?”

Wei Wuxian shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, presumably still aching from the bout of early afternoon delight that he and Lan Wangji had been indulging in over by the cold spring – which was meant to be a place for cultivation for all, not a private garden in which the young master of the sect could frolic like one of his pet rabbits. It would have to be cleaned before anyone else could use it, and Lan Wangji was undoubtedly back there giving those orders now, his forehead ribbon no doubt askew from having been utilized in private activity before being hastily replaced.

“Certainly, Xichen-xiong,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Some ointments of the sort used for stretching and to ease pain,” Lan Xichen said. “Huaisang has been complaining of soreness and stiffness as of late.”

He had, of course – among his misfortunes, Nie Huaisang had been born with something of a crooked spine, and his lower back would sporadically spasm, causing him great pain. Not that that was what Wei Wuxian was thinking of, of course.

“I’ve tried using my hands on him,” Lan Xichen added, allowing himself to sound regretful – which he was, as he hated to see Nie Huaisang suffering. “But he says it’s not enough, given the, ah, magnitude of the issue. I want to get him some relief and make sure he’s comfortable…I’m sure you understand.”

He was sure Wei Wuxian did not.

“Uh, sure,” Wei Wuxian said, barely bothering to hide the fact that he was giggling under his breath. “I’ll grab some for you, no problem…you should really ask Nie Huaisang to give you some, uh, books. To provide you with some guidance.”

“He’s provided several,” Lan Xichen said peaceably. Nie Huaisang was extremely fussy; naturally he would ensure that Lan Xichen was well supplied in guides on massage before allowing him to tend to him. “But thank you for the suggestion.”

Wei Wuxian nodded and saluted briefly, clearly ready to move on.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, as if only just remembering. “And tell Wangji that he doesn’t need to come to the meeting this evening – I know the two of you have better things to do with your time than having him listen to interminable reports on agriculture.”

Wei Wuxian actually smiled at that, as if the quarterly agricultural reports from the farms that fed the entire Cloud Recesses weren’t one of the most critical duties for Lan clan members to attend to and one that Lan Wangji had been assisting with since the age of twelve.

That task accomplished, Lan Xichen returned to the hanshi, where Nie Huaisang was scowling over the initial reports that had come in from the furthest farms in writing – he’d already offered to supplement any harvest shortfalls with the excess from Qinghe’s own extremely productive fields, but any shortage in one area could lead to shortages in others; no one wanted another famine among the common people the way there had been during the Sunshot Campaign and the hard years thereafter.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked doubtfully when Lan Xichen mentioned that he’d excused Lan Wangji from attending that evening and would therefore be doubly reliant on Nie Huaisang’s recollection of the meeting afterwards. “Lan Wangji may think you’re punishing him for marrying Wei Wuxian, which you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Lan Xichen agreed, because he wasn’t. If anything, he’d encouraged them to get together, and no matter the cost to himself, he was happy that Lan Wangji had achieved his heart’s desire after wanting it for such a long time.

“He may also interpret it as you punishing him for failing to control his spouse.”

“I don’t want him to control his spouse,” Lan Xichen said. “I want him to have some self-respect. Wangji has always greatly respected the rules of our sect and, until now, has always thought carefully before choosing to break them, accepting the consequences for doing so no matter how harsh. If I believed that Wangji truly disagreed with the rules, I would be willing to engage with him on the subject in good faith, but that isn’t what’s happening. He still believes in the rules.”

“He just doesn’t have the balls to tell Wei Wuxian that he wants him to stop stamping all over them?”

Lan Xichen huffed lightly. “I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

“But it’s what you think,” Nie Huaisang concluded.

“It is,” Lan Xichen said. “They’re going to spend the rest of their lives together – is Wangji planning on letting Wei Wuxian to win every argument without fail, no matter the cost to himself? Is he even planning on informing with him what the cost of his actions is? To always give and never take is not an equal relationship.”

“And your increased sensitivity on the subject of keeping secrets from your loved ones for, purportedly, their own good is completely beside the point, I assume?”

“The fact that I’m sensitive doesn’t make me wrong,” Lan Xichen said. “If Wangji is keeping secrets from Wei Wuxian, if he’s unwilling to rely on him or share his troubles with him, if he intends to one-sidedly sacrifice everything for him without even consulting with him as to whether he would be willing to accept such a sacrifice, then what they have isn’t a marriage.”

There was a house filled with purple gentians in the Cloud Recesses that stood as the eternal reminder of what that sort of marriage looked like, a terrible sacrifice that eventually became as much of a shackle on the recipient as it had been on the giver. Lan Xichen wouldn’t allow Lan Wangji to make that mistake.

And as for Wei Wuxian...if he truly oved Lan Wangji, he wouldn’t want it, either.

Lan Xichen certainly hadn’t.

Nie Huaisang sighed gustily. “All right, fine, fine. You know me, I’m always in favor of people standing up for what they think is the right thing even when it’s hard –” This was an almost grotesque understatement, but the friendship they were forging now was in some large parts based on the gallows humor emerging from their shared traumas. “– so I will reluctantly endorse your actions and, even more reluctantly, attend your meeting with you to take notes for later.”

“I appreciate your help. And your endorsement, of course.”

“Nie Huaisang has gotten much better at playing the xiao,” Lan Xichen remarked to Wei Wuxian on the day he removed Lan Wangji from the teaching roster and disqualified him from accompanying the juniors in night-hunts. “He’s a very – hands-on learner.”

Wei Wuxian snorted.

“I’ve been demonstrating the proper technique for him. Breath control is paramount, naturally, but of course you also have to know what to do with your tongue…”

Wei Wuxian was full on sniggering. “Oh, I bet,” he said salaciously. “I’m sure you’re a very hands-on teacher, eh, Xichen-xiong?”

“I want him to excel,” Lan Xichen agreed. “And that means plenty of practice…oh, I’m sorry, Wei-xiong. I shouldn’t have interrupted you – you were running somewhere?”

Right in the middle of the main pathways, no less, where the quick footfalls and sudden movement had startled countless people into very nearly raising an alarm before they realized there wasn’t anything to worry about. There were too many of them that remembered the war.

They had taken comfort in the enforced tranquility of the Cloud Recesses, before.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Wei Wuxian said breezily. “Just had an idea and wanted to get back to my workshop as quickly as possible, that’s all.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen said. “I won’t stand in your way, then.”

He actually was teaching Nie Huaisang how to play the xiao, at his request – he’d made some comparisons to it while debating a matter of ethics, and Nie Huaisang was determined to learn just enough to argue back in kind.

Lan Xichen didn’t have any illusions that Nie Huaisang would stick with it any more than he’d stuck with any other type of cultivation – he’d first tried teaching him musical cultivation when he was a child without any success at all, and Jin Guangyao’s example had definitely not endeared Nie Huaisang to the concept – but it was rather nice to discuss music without necessarily focusing on the backdrop of cultivation within it.

Accordingly, he continued the metaphor with Wei Wuxian for several days running. He talked about how energetic a student Nie Huaisang was –“He’s wearing me out,” he said, shaking his head. “Draining me dry…” – and mentioned that they were having an interesting time going back and forth on the subject of fingering, despite Nie Huaisang’s claims that his weak fingers weren’t nearly as suited for quick, assured movement as Lan Xichen’s.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Lan Xichen had said, even as Wei Wuxian had nearly cried from laughter. “His fingers are very flexible, and I get a great deal of enjoyment from his enthusiasm. Skill comes later.”

“Definitely something you have to work on together,” Wei Wuxian said enthusiastically. “It gets better as you go, doesn’t it?”

In the past few days, he had brought alcohol into public places, rather than leaving it in the jingshi where the breach would be a minor one, and tried to encourage the juniors to share it with him, although they’d refused; he’d even tried to bully them into doing so using his superior age and the respect they’d owed him until Lan Xichen had intervened with ‘urgent’ tasks for the juniors instead.

He had loudly speculated regarding one sect elder’s marital affairs after the man had refused to speak with him following a disagreement, breaking both the rules against malicious gossip and those against disrespecting the older generation all at once. He had gone hunting and fishing right outside the boundary line of the Cloud Recesses in clear sight of the disciples, including several who were attempting to practice cultivation based on compassion for all creatures; several others were pulled from their usual tasks to go purify the ground according to their customs, including a careful check of their wells to ensure that the blood and viscera had not seeped into the groundwater that ran so high and near to the surface.

In return, Lan Xichen relieved Lan Wangji of his requirement to go patrolling – “You’re married now, after all,” he’d said to Wei Wuxian, as if it wasn’t a duty shared by adult every sect member, “I’m sure you want the benefit of his company at night. Isn’t that right?” – and revoked his access to the restricted areas of the sect, including the discipline hall of which he had had sole charge since before the age of fifteen. He asked his uncle to resume the full schedule of teaching, including the classes which had previously been shifted in part over to Lan Wangji – his uncle agreed, understanding his motives, although he looked sick to his stomach with anxiety the way he always did when Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were fighting – and had publicly chided one of the juniors for “bothering” Lan Wangji with questions regarding his cultivation.

“Aren’t you so old already?” he scolded gently, a smile fixed on his face and his eyes firmly on the junior instead of his brother standing beside him. “You can’t go running to Wangji with every little issue that comes to mind. Reflect on yourself, and take pains not to be a burden to others.”

The junior appeared very nearly on the verge of tears, and he was not the only one. He, at least, understood the significance of Lan Xichen issuing the reprimand in public – if the junior in question had truly been pestering Lan Wangji with too many questions, it would have been a tremendous rebuke to him personally; as he had not, and everyone knew he had not, it was a clear order from the sect leader that no one was to bring any questions to Lan Wangji.

“Brother,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low and hurt.

“I know you must be tired, recently,” Lan Xichen said, looking back at him with a steady, unflinching gaze. “I understand that you and your husband have been taking long walks at night.”

Through residential areas, no less, and Lan Wangji knew better. Perhaps their sect was too strict with the rules about waking and resting, strict enough that the other sects laughed at them over it, but the rules were in place for a reason. Even if Lan Wangji himself was feeling restless enough to wander at night, there were places he could go that were designated specifically for that – gardens, mountain paths, what have you – where their wanderings would not bother others who had already gone to sleep.

Lan Wangji hesitated, his shoulders rising to his ears, but he dropped his gaze to the ground and nodded, conceding the point.

He knew better.

He knew better, he cared about doing better, and he let Wei Wuxian walk all over him anyway.

“It must be difficult to go walking at zi hour and wake at mao,” Lan Xichen said. “Perhaps waking at si hour would suit you better.”

Lan Wangji looked stricken. After over thirty years of waking at the appropriate time, he would have to be suffering from true bone-deep exhaustion for him not to rise at mao hour per their rules; Lan Xichen’s suggestion, if he enforced it, would do nothing but restrict him from leaving the jingshi until that later time.

Confinement was not a punishment Lan Xichen inflicted lightly on anyone, least of all his brother. His brother, who had suffered just as much from what had happened to their mother as he had.

“Perhaps you can use the additional time to talk to your spouse,” Lan Xichen said.

Tell him that you don’t like how he ignores all our rules like he’s trying to make a contest out of it, he meant. Tell him that you wince every time he puts his foot in it, every time he offends someone he didn’t have to, every time he disrespects our ancestors and all but spits on everything they cared about. Tell him that you’ll compromise on some rules, the ones that are genuinely hard for him, but that you want him to follow others out of respect for the fact that they mean something to you.

He would do it for you, Wangji. He loves you. You don’t always have to be the one to sacrifice.

Just tell him.

Lan Wangji’s lips pressed together.

Another refusal. It wasn’t that Lan Xichen didn’t know how stubborn his brother could be, especially in matters relating to Wei Wuxian, and he didn’t really want to match wills against him – he never really had, not in all their life. He loved his little brother so very much, and so Lan Xichen always been the one to yield, the one to give in, the one to make up the difference between them. The one to encourage him, the one to look the other way: whatever Lan Wangji had needed or even wanted, Lan Xichen had sought to give him.

Even the dreadful punishment with the discipline whip had been something Lan Xichen had sought to avert, and would have, if only Lan Wangji had not so self-destructively insisted upon it.

He had allowed it to proceed only because he thought that the physical pain would give Lan Wangji some measure of relief from the enormous emotional pain he was suffering from.

But now – this wasn’t just a temporary physical pain that Lan Wangji was trying to choose.

This was the rest of his life.

Lan Xichen was not going to back down over this.

“Si hour it is, then,” he said with a sigh. Nor would he revoke the instruction he had implicitly given to the juniors that Lan Wangji was no longer an acceptable advisor, unable to guide them in the Lan sect rules that he was constantly defying by proxy. “It’s for the best, I suppose. It’ll help habituate you.”

Lan Wangji looked up sharply.

Lan Xichen met his gaze head on. His brother, he reflected, was for once the one underestimating his stubbornness.

“I understand,” he said, his words very slow and very deliberate and very carefully chosen, “that rising at si hour is customary in the Lotus Pier, if a little late. That’s where Wei Wuxian picked up his habits, was it not?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe Lan Xichen was saying what he was saying.

Perhaps he had become infected by Wei Wuxian’s obliviousness and needed things to be said flat out.

Very well.

“The Cloud Recesses is the home of the Lan,” Lan Xichen said. “Our lives are here, guided by our rules that are laid out on the Wall of Discipline for all to see. It is the life we have all chosen, freely and without coercion – but I know it is not the life for everyone.”

“Brother!” Lan Wangji exclaimed, and he actually looked viscerally upset, the expression clear enough on his face that even Wei Wuxian ought to be able to tell what he was feeling.

“You don’t have to follow them if you don’t want to, Wangji,” Lan Xichen continued, inexorable. He, like most of his sect, disliked this sort of straightforwardness, but he was Nie Mingjue’s sworn brother and Nie Huaisang’s brother by proxy; he knew how to wield his words with the brutality of a saber as well as the grace of a sword or the gentle lilt of the xiao. “But I will not allow you to continue making a mockery of them. Not here.”

Lan Wangji looked as if he’d been stabbed.

No – Lan Xichen had seen his brother get stabbed. He had taken that better than this.

“I will write to Sect Leader Jiang by the end of the week,” Lan Xichen said, and clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from trembling. Tell him before then. Please. “Between the two of us, I’m certain that we can find somewhere to suit both you and your husband, so that you may live as free and unrestrained as you wish.”

He did Lan Wangji the honor of not looking back as he walked away.

He knew his brother wouldn’t want him to see the tears.

It was, if anything, a pleasant surprise when Wei Wuxian burst into Lan Xichen’s home less than a day later. Lan Xichen had thought it would take at least three.

“What is wrong with you?” Wei Wuxian shouted, slamming his hands down on the table in front of Lan Xichen. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Is it me? If it’s me you have a problem with, say it to my face directly!”

Lan Xichen finished swallowing the tea he’d just sipped. “Not everything is about you,” he said, feeling tired. “This is about Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were red-rimmed as if he, too, had been crying.

“You’re not seriously planning on kicking him out of the Cloud Recesses because I broke a few of your rules, are you?” he asked, biting off each word individually. “He’s your brother. He’s a perfect Lan – he ran your sect for a year!”

“Our sect,” Lan Xichen corrected. “Wangji will always have a place here, as will you.”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why is he convinced that you want him to go?”

Lan Xichen sighed.

“I’m sure his knees hurt,” he said.

“…what?”

“His knees,” Lan Xichen said. “From all the kneeling he’s been doing.”

Wei Wuxian looked truly bewildered now. “Are you – making a sex joke?” he said. “Now?”

“No, though I’m unsurprised you took it as one,” Lan Xichen said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m referring to all the kneeling in penance that my brother has been doing to atone for all the rules he has been breaking on your behalf. You wouldn’t have noticed it, as I assume he’s been deliberately hiding it from you.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him. “He’s been kneeling?”

“Wangji cares very deeply about our sect’s traditions,” Lan Xichen said. “He would never have been made the head of the discipline hall if he didn’t. He knows them backwards and forwards, better than anyone except for my uncle and the sect elders that specialize in it. They’re important to him.”

“But –”

“He keeps track of every rule you instigate him into breaking,” Lan Xichen said flatly. “Every single one, large and small, major or minor, and he tries to do his best to pay for what he’s done because he’d rather kneel all night without getting any sleep, rather hurt his hand copying out rules, rather endure a beating or two if it means he doesn’t have to tell you to stop.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth was slightly agape.

“Do you remember the story I told you about our parents? I shared that story with you for a reason, because I wanted you to better understand Wangji. We all carry the scars our parents left on us, and he’s no different. He’s so afraid of imprisoning you the way our father did our mother that he has decided to follow in our father’s footsteps by sacrificing everything for you.”

“I don’t – I don’t want him to sacrifice anything for me!”

“I know,” Lan Xichen said simply. “That’s why I said that this wasn’t about you. Yes, now that you live here, you should follow our rules, or at least respect them – and respect means respect, not playing around to see how many loopholes you can find in them. Do you think we don’t know about them? That no one in the history of our sect has ever figured out that ‘do not take life within the premises’ could be subverted by taking a life directly outside of it?”

Wei Wuxian was silent.

“We follow the rules because we want to,” Lan Xichen said. “They’re the rules our ancestors put together and handed down. They are meaningful to us, even when they are awkward or seem pointless. Even when other people laugh at us or belittle us or act like we’re stupid for choosing to behave the way we do.”

Wei Wuxian winced.

“Your conduct would be a problem if you were a guest,” Lan Xichen continued. “But you are not a guest. You are Wangji’s husband, my brother-in-law. You are family. If you do not wish to obey the rules, you do not have to, and you will still be welcome here. But Wangji wants to obey the rules – it is only that he fears losing you more.”

“How long have you been having this argument?” Wei Wuxian asked, because he wasn’t actually stupid, merely oblivious.

“I started taking away his responsibilities on the third day following my exit from seclusion,” Lan Xichen said. “I have steadily escalated it with every rule you have incited him into breaking with you since. And still, he refused to speak with you.”

Wei Wuxian’s hands were clenched into fists. He looked down at them.

“I know how much you love my brother,” Lan Xichen said. “If he had told you that it mattered to him, you would have found a way to reach a compromise with him – of that I have no doubt. But if it wasn’t the rules, it would be something else; some other thing that he would choose to sacrifice, another situation where he would choose to endure agony over having a mildly uncomfortable conversation with you. That was why I couldn’t just reach out to you directly. It had to be him; he had to be the one to tell you.”

“I understand,” Wei Wuxian said. “I don’t…I’d rather find it out over this than have him throw away his life instead of telling me I was being stupid.”

Lan Xichen nodded. That had been his fear as well, and the reason that one of his first moves had been to restrict Lan Wangji from going out on night-hunts.

“I’ll talk to him,” Wei Wuxian said, and scrubbed his face. His eyes had started tearing up again. “I’ll – I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand that it’s not – he can’t just do that! He didn’t even ask me if I wanted him to give all of that up for me; he knew I wouldn’t want him to, that’s why he didn’t ask, and he just went ahead and did it anyway. He didn’t tell me that he was suffering, that you were taking away his responsibilities! He didn’t say a single word, and I just blithely carried on thinking everything was fucking all right and all the while he was suffering, and – and he – he…oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Lan Xichen blinked.

“I did the exact same fucking thing to Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian exploded. He leapt to his feet. “I’m such a fucking idiot! Lan Zhan and me, we’re both – we’re really well matched, aren’t we?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll talk to Lan Zhan,” he said again, and he looked grimly determined the way he had in the war, the same expression shining through even with a new face. “Don’t worry, Xichen-xiong. I’ll make him understand.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

Lan Xichen watched him go, thinking to himself that he might have inadvertently done something good for Wei Wuxian as well through all of this. And perhaps it would help Lan Wangji’s own crisis to see Wei Wuxian going through the same – because Lan Wangji’s crisis had already taken place.

He could have lied to Wei Wuxian’s face over why they were leaving. He could have chosen not to tell him that Lan Xichen was forcing him out, cutting him off; he could have kept it secret, hidden, could have come up with some story or just left it all unsaid. If he was truly determined to never let any of his pain onto Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, he could have done that.

He’d chosen to come clean instead.

Maybe now they’d be able to move forward as equals, as partners.

(And, if they were really lucky, maybe finally reaching agreement to stop breaking all the rules all the time would mean that they’d stop having sex on every possible available surface and keep it to the jingshi and a few gardens. No one else needed to see that. Really.)

“I see that Wangji-xiong and Wei-xiong are now even more disgustingly in love than ever before,” Nie Huaisang said. “And that Wei-xiong seems to have finally gotten over his obsession with defying authority through violating each and every one of the Lan sect rules. I was only away at the Unclean Realm for three days, you know.”

“I work fast,” Lan Xichen said with a smile.

Lan Wangji had come to him, eyes red, and put his head in Lan Xichen’s lap the way he used to as a child, and they’d talked. For hours, they’d talked, in the slow and halting way they had – where each word was carefully considered, each emotion analyzed, and only a quarter of conversation was said out loud – and at the end of it, they were both completely wrecked, but stronger for it.

They’d talked about their parents, which they had never verbalized before; they talked about Jin Guangyao, and Nie Mingjue, and Wei Wuxian, both past and present. They talked about their ruined expectations, their hopes, their guilt; they talked about the rules that bound them both, the ones that served them as both strength and weakness, the foundation on which they relied in their times of doubt. They talked about love, and fear, and anger.

They’d promised to never to need to have to have this conversation ever again, and they were both very determined to keep that promise.

Lan Qiren had agreed to work with Wei Wuxian regarding which rules could be bent and which ones ought not be – finally giving him the full version of education he’d missed out on when he’d been returned home too early by Jiang Fengmian all those years before, because copying rules didn’t mean understanding them – and Lan Xichen had returned to Lan Wangji all the responsibilities and privileges he’d taken away from him, much to the relief of all the juniors that had been suffering through their fight.

(Lan Wangji confided in Lan Xichen that he was relieved that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had been away on a long visit to Lanling Jin throughout the entire debacle, and Lan Xichen wholeheartedly agreed.)

“That you do,” Nie Huaisang said. “Did being straightforward help?”

“More than expected,” Lan Xichen conceded. That had been one of the things he and Nie Huaisang had been discussing these past few weeks, the merits of straightforwardness against obliqueness, and they’d both argued both sides of the issue, given their personal experiences. “I will grant you that it served its purpose well in this situation.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, and put his chin into his hands. “Now tell me, what’s this I hear about you and me being the subject of a series of apparently godawful sex jokes?”

Lan Xichen froze.

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“It was…a metaphor?” Lan Xichen tried. “A means of communicating with Wei Wuxian while not acknowledging the ongoing situation, and a message about paying attention to underlying meaning.”

“Try again,” Nie Huaisang said gleefully. “You could’ve done that without invoking my name.”

“Who else could I invoke? I spend all my time with you!”

All the time he wasn’t being Sect Leader, that was. If there was one good thing that had come out of this entire debacle beyond his heart-to-heart with Lan Wangji, it was that Lan Xichen had been so anxious over Lan Wangji that he had forgotten his own fears about resuming his position, and now that he was back, it didn’t seem as scary as it had when he’d been alone in his room in seclusion.

Nie Huaisang did not appear especially moved by this eminently logical argument. He put his hands over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes, saying in an affected, almost operatic voice, “And all this time I never knew you felt like that, Xichen-gege –”

Lan Xichen choked.

“To think that all of this time that we spent cloistered together, pure as virgins, we could have been doing all sorts of things – using my, what was the term used, ample assets –”

Lan Xichen wondered if it would be possible for the ground to swallow him up at this very second. Failing that, a sect emergency would do.

Possibly an invasion?

“– and this, of course, refers to my extremely large…stock of picture books.”

“Huaisang…”

Nie Huaisang laughed at his face and settled down across from him. “I’m not ready to court or be courted,” he said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m not either, I don’t think.”

He was starting to think that he might be one day, though. That there would be a day – a distant day, far in the future, just barely coming into view – where his days would be more all right than not, where he could make decisions and be confident that he was making them for himself and not to cover up some mess of trauma.

And maybe, when that day arrived for him, it would also arrive for Nie Huaisang, who was himself digging himself back out of the deep pit he had made in his soul seeking his lonely vengeance.

“Still,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Since Wei-xiong and Lan Wangji are on their way here right now to join us, and given that I’m already crushing your hopes and dreams…”

Lan Xichen foresaw a great deal of mockery in his future, and he was almost looking forward to it.

“…do you want to pretend to be making out on the table that they’ll have to drink tea off until they catch us and plead for mercy?”

Well.

Lan Xichen did always say that he was petty.

#mdzs #lan xichen #lan wangji #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #mostly Lan brothers focused #background wangxian and xisang #my fic #my fics #petty #lan sect civil war #Anonymous #not as silly a fic as you might expect from the prompt

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lwjstiletto · 4 years

Text

wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

wwx shuts himself in his workshop for a month straight, with lwj being his only visitor. everything he makes looks beautiful on lwj but it’s somehow not enough, not quite /deserving/ of lwj yet.

when he tells lwj this, he only gets a slight downturn of his lips in return.

“you have fine craftsmanship.” lwj says, turning his hand so that the lights bounce off the crystal encrusted hand chain. “i have never seen anything like it before.”

wwx watches him in stunned silence. lwj tends to drop these really sincere, heartfelt compliments that both embarass him and motivate him to show lwj he can do even better. another reason for his stunned silence is how ethereal lwj looks in jewellery

wwx wants to cover him in it. a nice jade pendant that hangs just above his bellybutton; a hairpiece that weaves flowers between the silky black strands of his hair; a thick banded crystal choker that sits around his throat just so; an anklet with teardrop pearls perhaps

but for now, he has to work up to making the hand jewellery suitable. the rest can wait

—•—

the next time lwj visits, he looks like he’s one blink away from sleeping where he stands.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, because they have somehow progressed to calling each other by their infromal names, “are you okay?”

“mn.” lwj says, then almost collapses mid-blink. in true rom-com fashion, wwx catches him with one hand around his waist and the other on his arm. he would tease lwj about it but this isn’t the time.

“i’m sorry.” lwj tries to straighten up.

“come on, you need to sleep.” wwx says, using his hold on lwj’s waist to guide him towards his bedroom.

“no sleep.” lwj says, planting his feet into the ground much like jin ling does when he wants to be stubborn.

“lan zhan,” wwx cajoles with his practiced baby voice, “come on. you’re tired. just nap for one hour.”

lwj glares at him, “sleep later, work now.”

wwx bends down and puts a hand under lwj’s knees, scooping him up before he can react.

lwj’s sleepy eyes widen, “wei ying!”

“if you’re gonna act like a child,” wwx says walking towards the bedroom, “then expect me to treat you like one.”

internally, wwx is panicking. he is definitely crossing some boundaries here. however, wwx considers lwj a friend and his friend looks like he hasn’t slept for a week. sometimes extreme measures are necessary, jc has taught him that.

lwj twitches in his arms when he reaches his bedroom door.

“you can put me down now.” he says, his voice weak.

wwx ignores him and kicks his door open, gently placing lwj on the bed once he reaches it.

“go to sleep.” he says, pulling the duvet over him, “if you dare come out before the hour is up, i can and will carry you back.”

lwj looks like he wants to protest but he seems to lose the fight with exhaustion and drifts off the sleep before wwx’s eyes. wwx quickly exits the bedroom and closes the door behind himself. lwj. is. in. his. bed. sleeping... he’s sleeping. because he’s tired. and wwx’s friend.

“jiang cheng, lan zhan is in my bed.” he says into his phone once he has shut himself in his workshop.

“xichen’s brother? why? did you kidnap him? tell me you didn’t wei wuxian. xichen will kill you.” jc says.

“ok first of all, he’s here for work.” wwx realises that between working and sleeping he has forgotten to inform anyone about this. “and he was tired. he looked so sleepy and cute, what could i do?”

“you... was he at least... coherent? it was consensual right?” jc asks

“what?!” wwx screeches, standing up in indignation. “jiang cheng oh my god. we- he’s TAKING A NAP!”

“oh thank god.” jc sighs, “wait how do you know lan wangji?”

“ah,” wwx scratches his nose, “long story short, remember that pretty guy from uni? yeah lan zhan and him, same guy.”

“you-“ jc sighs deeply, “i’ve been hearing you wax poetic about lan wangji’s hands?! how will i ever look xichen in the eyes after knowing that you probably- eugh i hate you.”

“ok first of all, it’s not a fetish-“

jc hangs up on him.

this leaves wwx with too much free time to think and that’s never a good thing. so he starts looking around for something to do. this is how his eyes fall on lwj’s gloves lying on the table beside the door. lwj has developed a habit of discarding them as soon as he comes in

and like a magnet, wwx feels drawn to them. it must be annoying for lwj to wear them all the time, but he never complains. wwx, however, has no such qualms and detests them with vigor

today, it’s the white leather gloves. wwx picks one up and examines it. it’s soft to the touch, worn out to smoothness. an idea strikes him and he tosses the glove back as he reaches for his sketchbook. he thinks he has finally got it.

—•—

when lwj wakes, there is light coming through the curtains. he doesn’t remember the last time he had such a comfortable, dreamless sleep. an unfamiliar but pleasant scent surrounds him, safe, warm.

lwj bolts up in bed, remembering exactly where he is. he looks at his phone. it’s six, ok that’s fine. wait... 6AM. lwj throws the covers off and looks around, then back at his phone as if that’s going to change something.

he spent the night at wwx’s place. speaking of, where did wwx sleep then? he ventures outside and sees nobody in the living area. sure enough, wwx is passed out in his workshop, cheek flat on his workbench.

lwj sighs.

“wei ying.” he prods his shoulder gently, “wake up.”

wwx groans and shakes him off, “go away.”

after a few more pokes lwj rules it a lost cause and decides to make tea for himself and coffee for wwx. thankfully, he doesn’t have work until 3pm so he has plenty of time to waste puttering around wwx’s sparce kitchen.

after finding only hot sauce in the top cupboards (one labelled ‘burning hot’ with flames on the cover which makes him cringe away) he finally finds coffee. no tea. it’ll have to do, he thinks.

the smell of coffee near his nose does a better job at waking wwx up. he reaches blindly for the cup before he even blinks his eyes open. ridiculous.

lwj, in the most dignified way possible, sits on the purple beanbag and waits as wwx’s brain reboots with every sip of coffee.

“lan zhan?” wwx asks.

“i have the same question.” lwj says, “why am i still here?”

“too philosophical for this early in the morning. what time even is it?” wwx looks at the wall clock and groans, “why are you awake?”

lwj gives him a blank look, “i was promised a nap.”

“yeah, yeah.” wwx brushes him off, “i’m happy you slept well, you look much better than before.”

lwj feels his ears burn and his heart rate quicken.

wwx has an ease to his words and actions that makes lwj agreeable to existing in his space without wanting to revert back to professionalism. he fears that one day he’ll become so comfortable that he wouldn’t want to leave

“come here.” wwx beacons.

once lwj is bent over his shoulder, he shows him the rough sketches he has been working on all night apparently.

“are those..”

“inspired by the bane of my existence, none other than your gloves!” wwx says proudly.

“why do you hate the gloves?” lwj asks, curious.

wwx gives him a complicated look, “because they’re fabric. how old and boring. wouldn’t you rather be tangled in crystal chains that you can’t wear or remove without help?”

lwj lets him dodge the question, then gives the designs a closer look. “they’re very interesting.”

“it’s just a rough sketch.” wwx refuses to look at him, “i’ll refine the details and start working on it by tomorrow.”

“mn.” lwj says.

—•—

“da-ge tried to beat up su she again.” nhs informs him when he gets to his office a few hours later.

“again?” lwj asks.

“he bumped into him at the lobby. again.” nhs sighs.

“i will speak to him.” lwj says.

“what? no these stalkers just get worse-“

“i meant nie mingjue.” lwj clarifies.

“it should be fine. i’ve banned him from office premises now and i’m working on filing a restraining order against him.” nhs says, “i tried to explain this to da-ge but you know his temper. actually maybe you should talk to him. he might listen to you.”

lwj nods, “i will call him after my shoot.”

—•—

nhs must have mentioned it to nmj because he’s there to pick lwj up after his shoot. it’s late, almost past eleven, and the parking lot is half empty.

lwj gets a text from wwx just before he gets in the car.

wei ying: garnet or emerald?

lwj replies: i’m no expert at this

wei ying: lan zhannnn humour me

lwj: ruby

wei ying: i will fossilise you in one. lan zhannnn be serious

“you look much more at ease.” nmj comments.

lwj realises that he is.

“you don’t need to bother with su she anymore. huaisang has it under control.” lwj says.

nmj gives him a skeptical look.

“i trust him.” lwj emphasises.

“i was told you had previous acquaintance with that man.” nmj says.

lwj sighs, “he was in my cello class.”

“you play the cello?” nmj asks.

“not anymore.” lwj answers.

nmj doesn’t ask further.

they sit in uncomfortable silence until nmj asks where he should drop lwj off. what comes out of his mouth are the directions to wwx’s place. his excuse: he needs to know what a garnet gem is before making a decision.

“i will trust you and huaisang to handle this.” nmj says when they come to a stop, “be well.”

lwj nods, then opens the car door.

“wangji.” nmj’s hand grabs his elbow gently.

lwj turns to him.

“i’d like for us to be friends.” nmj says. it sounds stilted, amended.

lwj frowns, “i already consider you one.”

nmj nods and lets go of his hand. with the hint of a smile he says, “goodnight wangji.”

lwj looks at nmj drive away then turns to face wwx’s apartment building. now that he’s here, his excuse sounds feeble. he takes a deep breath, he’s already here. might as well.

wwx opens his apartment door and stares at lwj like he has seen a ghost. “lan zhan?”

“i don’t know what garnet looks like.” lwj says.

wwx grins at him, then grabs his forearm, dragging him into his workshop. there, on a mannequin hand, is the half finished skeleton of what looks like wwx’s design coming to life. he holds up a red and a green stone. he points to the red one, “this is a garnet.”

“it looks like a ruby.” lwj says

wwx looks like he goes through the seven stages of grief before he says, in a strangled voice, “how could you? you’re– you’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

lwj gives him an innocent look. he can feel the tension in his shoulders bleed out.

“it’s coming together.” wwx says when he notices lwj looking at his unfinished project. “come here, let me see if you can have mobility with it on.”

lwj removes his gloves and stretches his hand towards wwx. wwx gently manoeuvring delicate silver chains around his hand isn’t something new, but it feels different in the middle of the night. more intimate. lwj discards that word with a flick of his hair

it’s not usual for him to leave it unpinned, but he has spent the day lying on a carpet with his hands stretched upwards, balancing a small perfume bottle between his fingers. coming out of it with a few strands out of place is a minor inconvenience.

“tada!” wwx says, drawing lwj’s attention to his right hand which is now tangled in a complicated-looking array of chains from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist. it’s stunning even in its incomplete form.

“it’s beautiful.” lwj says, low as the silent night.

“it’s barely anything right now!” wwx protests but his cheeks are red, “come on, try to move your fingers.”

lwj does, slowly as to not break the delicate structure in case it does lack mobility. it moves with him, like still water disturbed, pressing coldness onto his skin when he closes his fist.

there is no bite, in fact it barely feels any different from wearing light cotton gloves. he thinks he understands wwx’s vision better now. he opens his fist again, one finger at a time, watching how the chains loosen and hang lower on his wrist.

he’s so fascinated by it that he’s surprised to see wwx standing in front of him when he looks up. his eyes are fixed on lwj, unwavering and shameless in their focus, dark with what lwj would presume was desire if he didn’t know better.

“ah it doesn’t need adjustments for now then!” wwx says, snapping out of it. “it looks great on you! i’m sure your girlfriend will like it when it’s finished too!”

“i’m gay.” lwj deadpans.

“oh.” wwx says, choked. “your... boyfriend then?”

“wei ying i...” think of you as a safe haven in my hectic life? find your rambling amusing? think you’re extremely talented and deserve success? have a teeny tiny crush on you? what is lwj supposed to say? each of those sound worse than the one before

at the end he decides to settle for the worst possible answer, “i don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

he does! well, not really. but he would make time if it was wwx... or something! sometimes lwj wants to punch a wall, break a finger, quit his job as a consequence and live in a secluded mountain in the east for the rest of his days. this is one of those moments.

wwx nods in understanding. lwj would prefer if he /didn’t/ understand and demanded to be lwj’s boyfriend to prove him wrong. ‘i’ll make you have time for a boyfriend’ is what lwj imagines him saying.

instead wwx offers him tea.

“it’s too late for coffee.” he shrugs when lwj mumbles a surprised ‘tea?’

before lwj can ask why he suddenly has tea in his house when he didn’t just yesterday, wwx is already gone.

they sit around wwx’s small breakfast table. as they sip their tea- high quality tea nonetheless- wwx begins to talk.

“this project is going more smoothly than i expected. i already have a couple designs in my mind. i’d say it’d take maybe a month or so if i substitue my sleep enough with coffee.�� wwx says.

“do not strain yourself.” lwj replies.

“rich coming from you.” wwx’s lip quirks, “you passed out on me yesterday. oh what could have caused that? i don’t think it was sleep deprivation and overworking because you’d never do that.”

it feels like lwj is being scolded.

“wei ying-“

“lan zhan, are you alright?” wwx asks sincerely, “i know you said that you weren’t hurt back then when i saw your bruises, but we weren’t friends back then. you were in pain when i met you at wen ning’s parlour. -

- wen qing was oddly iffy about telling jiang cheng about you even though she knows that he’s friends with your brother. you looked so afraid when you thought i was stalking you, which, technically my fault but still. i’m sorry for bringing this up but i’m worried about you. i want to help you, with whatever it is.”

lwj sits in silence for a few moments, flabbergasted. it seems like this is genuinely bothering wwx, and maybe it has for a while now.

“wei ying.” lwj starts, trying to mentally arrange it all in chronological order. “i think there has been a slight misunderstanding. i did not persue conventional modelling because i did not want to be in the public eye.

however, my identity was exposed about a month ago. it made me unnecessarily paranoid which is why wen qing was careful about my information, and i was in turn careful about my surroundings.”

“who the hell-“

“it does not matter now.” lwj says calmingly. he doesn’t need another person trying to beat su she up.

wwx fumes silently as lwj continues.

“at wen ning’s parlour i was actually in quite a bit of pain.” lwj says. wwx opens his mouth but lwj cuts him off. “yes, it was due to overwork, and yesterday can be attributed to the same cause. but it does not happen as often as you’re thinking, i promise.”

wwx mulls this over. “ok fine. don’t think i didn’t notice you skipped over the bruises though. they can’t be from overwork so either someone did that to you or-“

“it is..” lwj says, forcing the words out, “as you thought that day.”

he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he doesn’t want wwx to have any misconceptions. and well, if he sacrifices his own peace of mind for wwx, it is most likely worth it in the end.

“you mean...” wwx swallows, “you–“

seeing him struggle so much with the words makes it easier for lwj to blurt them out somehow.

“i like restraints, yes.”

this does not bring an end to the conversation, instead making wwx stutter through even worse versions of it.

“you like– to be tied up– oh my god.” he says, “you- that’s what you meant right? handcuffs, ropes all that- like bdsm? is that what–“

“wei ying. please.” lwj says.

“oh of course. here.” wwx grabs both his wrists with one hand.

lwj stares at him. wwx stares back. what the hell.

...

“oh,” wwx draws back like has been burned, “oh my god i don’t know why i did that. i’m so sorry!”

“wei ying it’s okay.” lwj tries but wwx has now put his face in his hands and does not seem to hear him above his mumbling variations of ‘oh my god’ and ‘i’m so sorry’.

lwj lets him go on for a while before he can’t take it anymore. he puts a gentle hand on wwx’s shoulder. this seems to have the desired effect, both shutting wwx up and making him look up at lwj.

“wei ying, it’s okay.” he repeats.

“no it’s not! what was i even thinking? it’s not okay for me to do that! out of nowhere! god, i must have made you so uncomfortable–“

“i don’t mind.” lwj says.

“how can you not? you should fire me!”

“you are my employer.”

“that’s even worse!”

lwj sighs. wwx seems to be transforming into a puddle of shame right before him. he has to put an end to this or wwx will overthink himself into an early grave. no amount of consoling seems to work though. lwj sighs, it is time for drastic measures.

“i lied.” lwj says. he quickly continues before wwx can officially begin his pity party, “i do have time for a boyfriend.”

“what.” wwx says, drawn out of his stupor with the sudden shift in topic.

“i have time... if it’s you.” lwj says and then immediately wants to adapt wwx’s head in hands coping mechanism. “now we are even.”

wwx seems to be dissecting his sentence to make sense of it. “oh. OH.”

“i should go home.” lwj rises from his chair. just as he is turning away, wwx grabs his wrist and pulls him so he’s face-to-face with him.

“lan zhan,” wwx says, his eyes fond, “you’re so.. ugh!”

lwj frowns. ugh. he’s ugh.

“lan zhan!” wwx takes lwj’s face between his palms and grins at him, “do you know i’ve been crushing on you since that day at the university?”

“you have?” lwj asks.

“you really didn’t know?” wwx asks, “lan zhan, lan zhan, do you think a professional jeweller needs weekly fitting appointments?”

“you don’t?” lwj feels just a little stupid.

“not really? i could have made adjustments after i finished everything.”

“you like me?” lwj asks. for some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that his crush could be reciprocated.

“yes!” wwx shifts from one foot to another eagerly, “can i hug you now?”

lwj nods and is drawn into wwx’s arms. wwx presses his nose into the space between lwj’s neck and shoulder. lwj holds his shoulders, glad that he can hide his red face in wwx’s hoodie

wwx sighs, his breath tickles on lwj’s skin.

“will you stay with me tonight?” and when lwj is silent for two seconds,

“not like that! it’s innocent! like a sleepover! i won’t tie you up i promise– lan zhan please shut me up i beg you–“

lwj draws back, simply places a gentle kiss on wwx’s lips and says, “don’t ever shut up.”

The End!

as for any loose ends:

- lwj manages to gain his anonymity back

- su she manages not to get beaten up by wwx or nmj but does get a restraining order

- wwx completes his collection and it’s a success! the best part is that he is holding the hand that started it all!

This fic has a nsfw one-shot on ao3 if any of you want to read it :)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/25827673

#wangxian fic #wangxian #lwj x wwx #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wei ying #the untamed #cql #mdzs #my fics #hand model au #long fic

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