#fic: love without end

[tinynerdycthulu]

tbh i dunno why so many sj apologists are anti-yqy. because like????? he is your mascot. he was the originator. the head honcho of excusing sj's levels of unmitigated villainy. look into my eyes and tell me that qi ge wouldn't blush and kick his feet if he saw xiao jiu commit murder. actually we don't NEED to imagine bc jiumei did just that and yue qi just grabbed his hand and ran, no thoughts head empty. arson? child abuse?? yue qi doesn't care. whatever makes xiao jiu happy <3

[bibxrbie]

It is so difficult loving Luke Skywalker and being Jedi positive.

[bellaxgiornata]

Today marks Falling for the Devil's first birthday!!! 🎉🎉

Exactly one year ago today I published the first installment of FFTD over on AO3 with the intention of this series only being maybe 15 to 20 installments long, and now a year later we have NINETY and we are STILL GOING. Some of you have even been here reading and supporting me and this fic from the very beginning and it truly leaves me speechless. I had no idea the love this little fic was going to receive from all of y'all when I started it, and it truly is because of that love that this story is still going a year later ❤️😭 I've never had a fic ongoing for so damn long before, but yet I'm still over here having fun working on it (and truthfully FFTD Matt and Reader will always be my favorite).

I could honestly blather on and pour my heart out to y'all about what this fic means to me and how it's also been my escape in difficult times (and those of you who know my FFTD end notes know how damn true that is 😅), but I really just wanted to say thank you all for the support. Not just on this fic, but on all of my others, too. This community/fandom has been so welcoming and wonderful and I enjoy writing for y'all because of that ❤️

So here's to more FFTD installments (the next one is almost written now), that upcoming Second Angst Arc, and Matt hopefully getting his shit together and finally asking Reader to marry him because we have all been waiting so long. LIKE IT'S BEEN AN ENTIRE REAL LIFE YEAR, MATTHEW. GET IT TOGETHER.

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[lomlompurim]

What if Without A Cure were a different type of poison, like a cursed potion that will consume a person's body & mind, slowly and painfully while they transform into a creature with little to nothing left of their human consciousness, ending up like a beast. Like a dragon.

A victim of this version of Without A Cure would suffer a series of gradual changes on their body: developing scales all over their skin, claws growing in their hands and feet, painful reament of bones, teeths being replaced by fangs, several migraines for growing horns out of their skull, and a tail.

What if the sessions of qi transfers with Liu Qingge and the herbs can only do so much to keep the transformation at bay, forcing the changes on Shen Qingqiu's body to step back for a bit. But as the days go by, these changes come again slowly, each time a little bit harder to fight. And the flares of Without A Cure make these changes happen at a violent speed.

He can hide the worst of it with a veil, gloves and a hat while being in CQ mountain. Having LQG and MQF helping him almost daily. But the peaklords (Specially YQY) do their best to keep eveything as private as possible. No one truly knew what this Without A Cure was capable of, since the few records of it's victims mark them as dead within a few days of being posioned, having "strange deformities in their bodies" as the only clue.

Maybe Binghe never really knew the true effects of the so called poison with no cure. He only knew his master sacrificed his cultivation and now needs qi transfers to help him endure the pain.

SQQ never really tolds him, he saw how guilty Binghe felt about the whole deal, telling him that he was slowly becoming a feral creature will only make the poor boy feel worse!! Unthinkable. It wasn't so bad anyways (it was) for now his draconic features are minimal, almost non existent after the qi transfers, everything is going to be fine. Maybe becoming a dragon can help him avoid death? Uh that's a problem for the SQQ of the future.

After the conference, SQQ's grief made things a little bit worse. Just a little. The pace of the cursed posion is becoming more bothersome as days passed by, now he can't go anywhere without a veil covering his face, and the little poking horns on this head can't be hiden by his hair anymore. Maybe he just should die and come back in his plant body to put a stop to this prickly curse. A lot of people, in or outside of the mountain think he covers his face out of vanity or bc of an ugly scar. Some weirdos are even trying to take a peek under his veil. Is this what Liu Mingyan has to endure everyday?! The urge to bite out those curious fingers is becoming stronger.

Then, what if when Huan Hua Palace takes him as a prisoner, a flare up happens and with no one to help him w a qi transfer, his horns grow severly inches long, his hands and feet are completly covered in grey scales, big black claws ripping his robes because his skin is itching like hell thanks to the new scales. His pupils become slit, his tail pokes out of the rags that his clothes became, everything is a mess and no one can see him like these.

What if when Sqq self detonates, instead of dying he sacrificed what was left of his humanity to stabilize Binghe, and he completly transformates into a huge white dragon, flying away into the sky, disappearing in the distance. Leaving a very confused half demon and a devastated war god behind, memories of his human life becoming blurry and far away.

What if some despicable palace master and a particular greedy demon royalty of the nothern region put a price on the head of the misterious white dragon that has been seen floating around the skies?

--------------

Idk this is an idea for a bingliushen story. With without a cure having the effects of the first drafts that airplane had thought in this AU, when PIDW was not so popular yet. And no, the heavenly pillar can't cure this. In my brain this version of without a cure is older than the concept of dual cultivation with a heavenly demon being a cure to almost everything, so no magic dick can solve it, they would have to find another way.

In my mind Sqq's dragon form is like this from Zelda Tears of the Kingdom. Pretty big lizzard.

[actual-changeling]

"I love you."

Crowley stops dead in his tracks, his hand wrapped around the door knob with white, trembling knuckles, and closes his eyes.

There were nights, many nights, way more than there ever should have been, during which he traced the constellations in the night sky and imagined what it would be like to hear those words from his mouth. Whether he would say them softly, wrapping each one in gentleness, reverence, or hurried, afraid of who else might hear, terrified that this will be the last words ever spoken between them. If he was particularly drunk and particularly lonely, chasing after the feeling of Aziraphale's brushing over his wrist as they walked by each other in the comfortable mess of the bookshop, he imagined them as a slow drag of breath right next to his hear, a whisper not even God would be able to hear; a promise of worship.

In all of the fantasies, and that is what they were, nothing more than shameful imaginations Aziraphale could never know about, he said it back. Whispered it, screamed it, forced it out between sobs or kisses or panting breaths.

When Crowley opens his eyes again, uncried tears are clinging to his lashes.

Outside, the first splatters of rain are painting the sidewalk black and people hurry by, trying to escape the storm as the sky breaks in two. Within seconds, the steady drum of water against the window is louder than the noise of the traffic, louder than his heart's attempts to beat out of his ribcage and bare itself to him.

He cannot look at him.

It is his first thought and the only one that matters now, he cannot look at him or he will shatter like hot glass dropped in the snow, flying apart into thousands of tiny shards. Crowley tries to rip the image of violet eyes and his perfect fucking cupids bow out of his mind without success (he knows what it tastes like now, remembers tracing it with the tip of his tongue and opening his mouth with a hunger he has never felt before).

Swallowing his own, he listens to the familiar rhythm of Aziraphale's breath, undisturbed and distinctly human in a way that makes them too human to be real, his mouth opening and closing around unshaped replies.

The sidewalk is empty save for a handful of people diving for cover in the pub across the street, and for one precious, fragile moment, the world narrows down to an angel and a demon who watched the first storm rain down on Eden, a white wing held steadily above his head to keep him dry.

Crowley never asked why, and over the centuries, the question got lost in all the others piling up every time they met. He knows why, though, without needing to hear it from him, and it is not because Aziraphale already loved him back then or saw a pitiful creature in need of protection. The answer is so much simpler - he was being thoughtlessly kind because that is who he is.

He is being thoughtlessly kind now, too.

The tension drains from his knuckles and he presses his palm to the cold metal, settling back into a body that now recalls the taste of those three words in the air and yearns for nothing more than to taste them straight from his mouth.

Crowley pushes the door open and steps onto the sidewalk, his clothes clinging to his sharp angles as the rain drenches him completely within seconds, and then he walks home without a single look or word back.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i posted abt this on my tiktok story but i need to rant more so im putting it here 😭😭 the way a lot of mikosai shippers (on tiktok, pinterest, reddit, etc) are is such a big reminder to me of why i hate the strictly romantic soulmates trope with every fiber of my being 😭😭😭 people who interpret soulmates as "that means theyre canonically together" regardless of how the characters actually feel about each other and if they ACTUALLY get together is so fucking gross to me oh my god its so fucking gross i hate forced romance so bad 😭😭 someone cant just say "hey, we're soulmates so you HAVE to date me and its literally weird and impossible for you to like anyone else because i said so!!" and also aiura WOULDNT do that anyway ???? HELLOOO???

you have no idea how many people ive seen call all saiki ships with anyone other than aiura "problematic ships" just because "theyre soulmates"

[fag4dykestobin]

yesterday, i wrote a little snippet of a steve coming out scene that had been living in my head for a bit, and i thought that that was it. and then i kept writing little snippets until this was nearly 3k words long <3 so. enjoy!!

-

Steve looks up at the popcorn ceiling, heart beating, beating, beating, nearly out of… his… chest. Steve doesn’t look at Robin, but… he… knows that Robin is looking at… her?

“Feel like we should be in the bathroom for this,” Steve croaks. Robin huffs out a laugh.

“We can move in there, if you want. My parent’s probably won’t need to use it, they’re in bed already.”

Steve shakes… her…? his. His(/her?) head. “No. I feel better in here.”

“Okay.” And then it’s quiet, between them, and it’s up to Steve to fill that silence. Awesome. Steve can do that. Well, Steve could do that, usually, but unfortunately there is something in Steve’s throat that is blocking everything and anything from coming out of it. Maybe Robin will just let him(/her?) sit here in silence forever, until they both fall asleep, and then when they wake up in the morning they can go along with their lives like there’s nothing building up in Steve’s soul, clawing and raging and desperate to come out.

Robin shifts, so that their feet, propped on the wall in front of them, are touching. It’s enough to get Steve going.

“You know when we were in the Russian base, and you said the thing about your life being one big error?”

Robin made a noise of affirmation.

“Were you talking about, like, being gay?”

Robin sits with the question for a few moments. “... Mostly,” is the answer she decides to go with. Steve waits for her to elaborate.

“I guess it was like, well. Some of it had to do with how we ended up in the Russian base, right? It didn’t feel real. Or like it was supposed to happen. But it also felt like just one more thing in my life that went wrong, and I kinda connect all the bad things that happen to me with me being a lesbian.” There’s a beat of silence. “Which I know isn’t really good. But I’ve been doing it for a while, so it’s hard to stop.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like that? About being, um, half-gay?” The term they’ve landed on for Steve’s sexuality is kind of ridiculous, but neither of them could think of anything better for it. And it’s not like they really refer to it by name outside of hushed and rare conversations like this one. 

“I guess?” Steve thinks on it a little. “Not really. Not like you, at least. It’s, like…” Steve lets himself(/herself?) brush against the problem in his(/her?) brain. Think about it for more than a fleeting moment.

Terror envelopes him(/her?)(cut that shit out pick one and stick to it). Steve tries to think through it, but it’s kind of hard to breathe.

“It’s more about, um. I don’t know. I… It feels stupid.” It feels wrong. It feels criminal.

“I won’t think you’re stupid,” Robin says, so earnestly, like she believes it. Oh, that’s horrible to think about her. Steve screws his eyes shut. Steve screws her eyes shut.

Pick one. (pick he.) And stick to it.

“Sometimes I… mmm. Sometimes I… Robin, if you—” Steve cuts himself off. This feels evil, what he’s about to say. Maybe more evil than what he is. “If I what?” Robin sounds concerned. Like, worried concerned. It makes Steve want to stop everything and wrap her up in a big hug and never talk about this again. Besides, what was Steve even going to say? Robin, if you hate me after this… what? What does he want her to do? Robin, if you hate me after what I say, please don’t.

If Robin hated Steve for this, he might just die.

“Steve? Are you okay?” Robin takes her legs down from the wall and sits up, leans over Steve, trying to get a good look at his face. Steve covers his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know. I don’t— eugh.” Steve gulps in a big breath, “Robin, if you— hate me, um—”

“No! No no no no no! No! Steve, look at me! Right now!” Steve wants to, but that might make him actually cry. Steve digs her palms into her eyes. No. His palms, his eyes.

God.

“Steve, Evie, please. Please.” The nickname makes Steve’s eyes water. He swipes at them to make them go away, but they keep flowing. Okay, this is going a bit disastrously. The most important thing to do right now is keep his eyes closed and not look at Robin, or else he might shatter into a million little pieces.

“No, I— let me just— I don’t want you to—”

“I won’t hate you, ever. For anything. Are you okay?” Robin sounds miserably anxious. You can’t promise that, Steve wants to bite out. He swallows it. Steve has to trust Robin, because if she can’t, maybe she truly isn’t meant to be like this. Maybe Robin won’t hate him, maybe Robin will help him fix it.

“Sometimes I think about being a girl.”

The words sit heavy between them. Steve kind of wants to throw up about it.

“... Okay.” Robin says. She sounds a little breathless. Steve tries to imagine the look on her face, but can’t imagine it through the fuzz of terror. And like hell will he open his eyes.

“... Okay?” Steve croaks, after Robin fails to elaborate.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She still has that breathless note in her voice, but it’s more like an aftermath-of-anxiety breathlessness than still-actively-anxious breathlessness.

Steve worries that he’s(.../she’s?) downplayed the problem here. Steve swallows, mouth dry, throat dry.

“No, I, I don’t just think about it, I like thinking about it. I like it when, um, the kids make fun of me by calling me, a, a mom, and I like when you or Max or El paints my nails, and I, I think about stealing your clothes sometimes and it makes me want to kill myself but I can’t, I can’t stop, I…” Steve is now hyperventilating. 

Robin tackles Steve, and Steve’s horrible, traitorous mind wonders if she’ll wrap her hands around his(/her?) throat and kill her(/him?) rather than let him(her?) leave this room.

Steve opens her(/his?) mouth to, who knows, tell her that it’s okay? That he(/she?) understands? That she(/he?) loves her? But nothing comes out, and after a second, Steve realizes that it’s a hug. Obviously. And then Steve starts sobbing.

It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing… his? her? God, the thought of either makes Steve want to puke. It takes a few minutes for Steve to stop losing Steve’s mind. And Robin strokes Steve’s hair the whole time, and holds Steve the whole time, and whispers that it’s okay and that she loves Steve, the whole time. It kind of prolongs the sobbing, in a way, because Steve just can’t believe it. But Steve does eventually calm down.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

Steve sniffles and swallows thickly. “Yeah?”

“It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well,” says Robin, and then she pauses, like she’s thinking. Steve lets her. There’s a headache brewing in Steve’s temple, and the silence is nice, in a way.

“Well,” Robin starts up again. “I don’t think you’re weird, or messed up, and I definitely don’t hate you. We’ve seen bad things and bad people. And you’re not bad.”

“Well, I… if I’m not bad, or weird, for this, I don’t know what I am.” Steve can hardly believe how well Robin is taking this. It really shouldn’t surprise Steve at all, because Robin is so, so good, but this is something that Steve hates, and they’re usually a united front on that, when it really matters.

So… maybe Robin is right.

Robin climbs off of Steve, lays down next to Steve again. But instead of propping her legs up on the wall, like Steve for some goddamn reason is still doing, she curls next to Steve, facing Steve. Looking at Steve. Still holding Steve’s hands.

“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezes. Steve squeezes right back, and keeps the grip tight.

“Okay.”

They sit in silence, and Steve just… breathes. Tries to will the headache away; not happening, ugh. Drops the legs from the wall. Steve plays with Robin’s fingers, not even trying to process what had happened yet. That can wait til later.

After a few minutes, Robin speaks up again. “Are you okay with questions? If not, that’s fine.” And Steve knows she means it. She will totally drop it for the night and let them settle down and watch a movie or three. But Steve doesn’t really want that right now. Steve wants to stay in this space where, at least for now, what Steve is feeling is fine, and alright. Steve’s never had that before, for this.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “They’re okay.” Maybe they can do the figuring out thing right now. Maybe all of Steve’s problems will be solved tonight. Wouldn’t that be a relief? Robin pulls her hands away, and Steve hears the rasping of her shirt material being rubbed together between her fingers.

“So… do you want to be a girl?” The question doesn’t sound harsh leaving Robin’s mouth, but the words are heavy. It makes alarm bells ring in Steve’s head, forbidden question! Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! Years of routine repression make it hard for Steve to even consider the question, but Steve tries. Slowly and agonizingly, Steve thinks about it. It genuinely takes a few minutes, but Robin can clearly sense that Steve is thinking about it, so she doesn’t interrupt. Steve loves her so much.

“Kinda,” Steve whispers. “It’s… I don’t know. Really. It’s stupid.”

“Nuh-uh. No stupid stuff right now. Just say how you feel.”

“I kinda wanna be half-girl. Like how I’m half-gay.” It feels stupid. It feels evil. It feels way too indulgent. Even in a perfect world, it’s one or the other. Steve can’t, like, hog them both. They cancel each other out. Right?

“Uh-huh?” Robin is prompting Steve to go on. Oh God.

“Um. Like. I still… like the guy parts of me, you know? I still like being a guy.” That feels really important to emphasize. Steve feels kind of insane, talking like this, actually getting Steve’s thoughts out into the real world. But Robin is still listening, no judgment. It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, but that would make the headache worse so, no thanks. “But I… I like the girl parts, too. I like when you call me Evie, but I don’t want you to stop calling me Steve.”

Steve can feel Robin shift, like she’s nodding. “Okay,” she says again.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. You can… you can be a half-girl, half-guy.” And it sounds simple and a little obscene, when she says it. Maybe not obscene. Maybe more like tantalizing.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers. “Is that, like… allowed?”

Steve finally turns to look at Robin. Her eyes are big and full of thought. It feels stupid, thinking like that, but there’s nothing else to describe it. Steve can see the thoughts dancing around in her pupils and irises and whatever else is in an eye. It’s so beautiful. Steve loves her so much.

“... I think that you can do whatever you want,” Robin whispers back. “And be whatever you want.”

Steve’s face crumples, just a little bit. Not enough that it means tears, but enough to bring the idea to mind. Steve pinches Steve’s nose. “It can’t be that simple, though.”

Robin tilts her head in a way that can only be described as birdlike. She hates when people compare her to birds, just because of her name, but it fits right now, in the secrecy of Steve’s brain. She looks serious and intent. “Why not?”

“Nobody has ever done this before. I think.”

“Nobody that we know of. We live in Hawkins, Steve, we know like, 500 people. There are probably people in New York, or Chicago, or whatever, that feel exactly like you.”

Steve can’t reconcile with that. It feels so lonely, being like this. It feels inherently lonely.

“And even if you are the only one in the world that feels like this… Well, that’s fine! You can be whoever you want! Especially around me.” Robin grabs Steve’s hands in her own. Her hands are always so cold. Steve loves to hold them and feel them warm up bit by bit. It’s grounding, especially right now.

“I don’t want you to hide yourself. Not from me. I hid for so long, around everyone else, and it was killing me.” Robin’s eyes bore into Steve’s. “And I didn’t know it was killing me, but looking back, it’s like, wow, I was going to die.” Her voice cracks, just a little bit, and Steve makes an involuntary noise. Holds her hands just a little tighter. The warmth is already equalizing between them. “And, I don’t know. I don’t want you to get there. Or, if… you’re there already, I don’t want you getting any further.”

Sometimes it astounds Steve, just how much Robin gets things. This isn’t one of those times, though. It feels deeply right, and deeply sad.

“Alright,” Steve says.

“You won’t hide this from me? After this?”

A shake of the head. “No.” And it sounds so easy, promising this. Maybe it can be easy. Steve hopes it will be easy.

“I love you,” Robin says, and she pulls Steve into a hug. Steve melts into it. Robin gives very bony and kinda twitchy hugs, minute movements every few seconds, and Steve loves them. Robin, a while ago, maybe a couple months after Starcourt, had expressed anxiety about her hugs being ‘godawful uncomfortable,’ her words, but Steve had denied that fiercely. Her hugs were God’s gift to mankind, and if everyone else hated it, fine. More for Steve.

“I love you too,” Steve says into her chest.

They lapse into silence again. Steve thinks about asking for some water, but that would mean one or both of them leaving this room, and all possible configurations seem worse than the lack of water, right now. Steve presses closer into Robin.

“Another question.”

“Yeah?”

“So, you like Steve and Evie, and you’re a girl and a guy. Do you like he and she?”

There’s the dreaded question. Steve can’t hold back a groan. “I don’t know,” Steve says into her chest. “I’ve kinda, thought about it a bit, but… both of them feel weird, by themselves. I guess I like both, but only when they’re next to each other. I can’t really decide on one.”

Robin hums in consideration. “I mean, we’re making all this up as we go. If they don’t feel right by themselves, then why do they have to be by themselves?”

Steve thinks about it. “It feels like they’re supposed to cancel each other out,” Steve says, voicing a thought from earlier.

“They clearly don’t, at least in your case.” Robin presses her cheek to the top of Steve’s head, flattening the hair there. “Don’t think about how things should be. Think about what you want.”

What Steve wants. Okay.

He thinks about he. She thinks about she. And how, apart, they really only feel like half of himself, but together, they feel like they tell the whole story and show the whole picture.

Steve can’t help but think about those optical illusions Dustin had shown her a while back. The one with the two faces. If you concentrated, you see whichever one you wanted at will. And they seemed so opposed, yet so intertwined, and you couldn’t have one face without the other. Maybe he’s an optical illusion. It’s better than being evil.

“Okay. Yeah. Both are good.” Steve can feel Robin smile into her hair.

“Do you want me to use them both?”

Steve feels a flash of panic. “Um— augh. Not… not around other people, um, but—”

Robin squeezes him closer. “Oh, God, obviously!” she says, and Steve is so grateful that they’re on the same page, like, 90% of the time, and that this falls into that 90%. “I can sneak them into conversations between us. Pronouns don’t really pop up in conversations between two people, but maybe if we got a cat or a goldfish or a turtle I could talk to it about you in front of you. Or is that weird? Hm. It might be weird.”

Steve can’t help the smile dawning on her face. Maybe everything will be okay. “It’s kinda weird. But we should do it anyway.”

Robin laughs, and Steve still has his face buried in her chest, so he can feel it. “Yeah,” she says fondly. “I guess that hasn’t stopped us before.”

[captainmaxatx]

I’m writing a poolverine fic right now and am very tempted to add a very funny looking cat, so like Wade brought home the funny looking dog and then Logan brings home the funny looking cat, I’m particularly inspired because there is an “ugly” cat on BC spca shelter website that I’m a little obsessed with, I think I can make it fit but I’m a little iffy if it would feel right, what do you think

Here is a picture of the actual cat for reference

[rexscanonwife]

If you have an f/o that loses many people close to them, imagine them allowing themselves to grieve in front of you. To be held in your arms as their shoulders shake with the force or their crying because they need to let it out or it'll consume them from the inside out. They can be vulnerable with you, they can fall apart with you, knowing you'll help them pick the pieces back up.

[kinos-fortress-2]

what does one unfinished fic from like 2022 of a very rareshipp does a to a mf

and also a trashy playlist that got me in my own feelings...

[iangallagherisadeadman]

post-s11 Tami definitely gets tired of Lip and leaves him.

yes, I do like them as a couple, I think it is an interesting dynamic and that Tami is good for him honestly, even though they lived completely different lives and crash so many times because of it throughout the last seasons.

fact is Lip won't ever change and will keep making the same kind of mistakes and she will get fed up with it eventually. they'll go different ways, maybe keep a somewhat friendly relationship, and she will get a new partner and Lip will have a Sean kind of relationship with Fred: that kid is the most important thing in his whole life and he's constantly hunted by the fear of drinking again and hurting Fred.

[kanene-yaaay]

Warm, Soft and all the other things that I can only be with you

Kanene's notes: Ok, I just had NO IDEA that I would come to like Jiang Cheng as much as I do when I first watched mdzs. Maybe I should've realized when his first apparition is LITERALLY coming right when Jin Ling is being defeated by Wei Wuxian and calls him saying that >:[[ his jiujiu will kill him and aaaaaa Wei Wuxian asks who his uncle is and then KJHGFDEFGH JIANG CHENG LITERALLY APPEARS FROM NOTHING SAYING "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" BRUHH. He just breaks me. aughhh ALL OF THEM MAKE ME GO INSANE!!!

Anyway this story isn't about any of this. It's about Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen being absurdly in love and playful and cute and silly <3 All the thanks and applause and hugs for @squeaky-n-blushy for spending literally HOURS screaming about mdzs+tickle scenarios with lil ol me because it helped me so much to brainstorm kjhgfdfghjk

Warnings: This is a bit of more intense story than the usual that I write, so be warned. There's angst and lots of fluff. Also a suggestive joke (LOOKING AT YOU WEI WUXIAN) and some making out in the fic but it's really not the main focus here and a quick thing. Lots of teases, tickles, kisses and more teases. Especially about losing control. Romantic setting. Around 13.000 words. Mainly Ler!Jiang Cheng and Lee!Lan Xichen.

[~*~]

Jiang Cheng was not jealous. 

He was fine. Great, even.

He was just... curious.

There were a plentiful of words that could be used to describe Wei Wuxian.

Insufferable. (Strong). Troublesome. (Joyful). Annoying. (Smart). Stupid. (Traitor). Stubborn. (Sacrificial). Careless. (Mischievous). Impulsive. (Brillant). (Genius). (Caring). (Important). (Family). (Stupid). (Stupid). (Stupid).

(Brother).

And, if needed, Jiang Cheng had all of those and much more that he used on a regular basis every time they got stuck in one of their usual bickering matches, both of them still learning how to tip toe the lines between hurt and healing, family and enemies. 

It was hard. Confusing. Good. Exhausting. Raw. They would fight and punch each other across the bonds during a heated match - that were actually growing less and less frequent, thankfully - or extend an olive branch in each other’s direction and not comment on how small it looked in the ocean between them. 

But both of them grew up in the Lotus Pier and no water body could ever scare them. Bandages and cuts decorating their hands as they kept building the bridges and boats to forgive and find each other someday. 

Day after day.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, dissipating those overly sensitive thoughts. All of that was irrelevant and not at all where he wanted to get. Unfortunately, by doing so there wasn’t anything else left to distract him from the little lightheaded, annoyed (flustered) feeling that was taking over all his senses after what happened.

(What just happened?)

He clenched his jaw and huffed, still confused, still annoyed. His steps sounded firm and clear as he kept his determined stride to the room he already knew so well, not even glancing at the young cultivators that knew better than to interrupt him when he looked like this, even if they seemed much more relaxed with his presence at the Cloud Recess after seeing it so often.

Never, ever Jiang Cheng could describe Wei Wuxian, the Patriarch Yilling, one of the most feared cultivators across all the sects, the black spot in Lan Quiren's golden record, the most irresponsible uncle and brother this world had ever seen, as embarrassed.

The scene had hit him like a brick and Jiang Cheng didn’t even mean to see it in the first place! He could pretty much actually go on with the rest of his entire life without ever picturing for a single second what Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan liked to do in their freetime together.

Nowadays, however, both of them spend more time over each other than away, absolutely shamelessly, with no care about who was watching or where they were. With Wei Wuxian drapping himself over his husband's lap during dinners and conferences and Lan Zhan spending every night when the other is away in a hunt or a visit to the Yunmeng sect playing his guqin melancholically through the night and the early hours of the morning to express his deep feeling of longing and pining.

(Thanks everything that Jiang Cheng was never actually there to witness the last one, being an information that Lan Huan shared with him recently with an amused smile on his lips. Because he was pretty sure that if he was living in Gusu Lan and had to endure their constant show of unyielding affection for each other he would end up breaking that damn instrument into pieces.)

So, it was no surprise that Jiang Cheng was forced to witness his brother’s love life first hand again. Because he had been a fool who accepted to have a tea over Wei Wuxian’s house and even more of a fool to believe that his brother, the very one who called him in the first place, would be actually prepared to receive him on the time he himself choose and perhaps be there to show him at least a hint of respect and hospitality that the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect deserved and open that goddamn door at once!

(And, yes, maybe he was still jittery about Wei Wuxian’s death. Maybe when he heard the cultivator of resentful energy shout - even though loud noises are forbidden in the Cloud Recess - and the sound of something heavy falling following suit his mind got somehow clogged and his knocking louder and more incisive the longer no one answered him. Maybe he forgot for a moment that they were in the Gusu Lan Sect and, for the first time in a long while, it was only him and Wei Wuxian against the world again. This time he would not run the fuck away.) 

However, when the door opened - a better description would be “was forcefully ripped away from his path, but that was irrelevant - the scene that greeted him had absolutely nothing to do with blood or pain or any kind of danger.

(Not one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t more than used with, at least.)

“What” his voice trembled, no longer with a jittery feeling, but with a barely concealed annoyance. The electricity cracking from Zidian danced now in his arm for an entire different reason than getting ready for a fight. “Is happening here?”

Wei Wuxian squealed on the floor, squirming on the ground like a worm on a rainy day as his husband’s hands danced dedicatedly on his torso at a tickly pace.

“Punishment.” Lan Zhan answered, stoic and direct as ever, totally impassive under Cheng’s blasting glare. Especially because he didn't see it, not even bothering to look up from his position, gaze clued on Wei Wuxian’s face almost hypnotized, as if it was the only image that could ever matter in the world.

(Urgh.)

“A-Cheng!” 

It was ridiculous, really, how only that (and who knew he still had in him to call Jiang Cheng in such an affectionate form) was enough to make his eyes immediately snap into Wei Wuxian’s direction, something relaxing in him when he acknowledged the usual playful tune he already knew too well.

“What.”

“Hehehelp me!”

Jiang Cheng could feel an artery pulsating in his forehead, they both falling easily in their usual push and dance. “Stop being dramatic, he is barely touching you. Get up and use your hands!”

“No, I can't!” His whine was quickly taken over by more giggles, his entire body contorting in protest at the playful attack as he kept his dramatic wailing. “I will rip Lan Zhan's forehead ribbon! Please, A-Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng almost had a whiplash at how quickly his head turned to look at Lan Zhan’s naked forehead and then at Wei Wuxian's hands, seeing that they were in fact bonded by the delicate, white band that the Lan Sect was known for. 

The forehead ribbon. A sacred symbol of resilience and restraint, an extension of yourself that could only be touched and freed by your close family and your significant other, being used as an illusion of a bondage in a meaningless punishment of a childish game.

Lan Zhan’s expression continued just the same as it always did, impassive and serious. Yet, he managed to look extremely smug all the same. He was fully aware of the trap he just put his husband into, knowing Wei Wuxian would rather endure far worse tortures than tickling instead of giving the ribbon left in his care a single strain or tear.

Shameless.

He scoffed. 

(Jiang Cheng ignored how he himself felt when Lan Huan let him touch his own forehead ribbon. He took the ends of the white fabric and freely gave them to Jiang Cheng in one of their quiet evenings, only so they could be woven into the braids of the Yumneng Sect he was occupied in replicating, eyes focused and movements certain as he styled the other’s long, beautiful black hair. How soft and small it felt in his palms. The meaning of that act. How reverent and careful Jiang Cheng was during the entire process, holding the white fabric into his calloused hands while his fingertips and soul trembled with emotion.)

And then those two were just playing around with theirs. They really have no shame!

“Always asking me to clean up your messes, fight for this one yourself! Don’t you remember that you called me here to have tea in the first place? Have you really lost all the sense of respect?”

Wei Wuxian only giggled harder. Whether it was because he always thought it was fun how upright Jiang Cheng was about both of their reputations and how easy it had always been to rile him up about it or because Lan Zhan now changed his absolute nonsense of a tickle attack to focus on his sides, it was uncertain.

“Don’t be so grumpy, A-Cheng!” He squeaked loudly when Lan Zhan tweaked his lowest rib (of course he discovered about that specially ticklish spot, Wei Wuxian had always been so obvious about it, crackling and squirming like crazy when Jiang Cheng did no much than just glaze over it). It didn’t take long before the new sound was completely engulfed by a new round of even more uncontrollable snickers, his legs kicking desperately with energy. “Your face will get stuck in a frown forever! Like a sour plum!”

And, of course he would use his every ounce of oxygen to tease him. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to replicate.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan interrupted. (Was that an agreement?!) “You’re early.”

The leader from the Yumeng sect crossed his arms defensively, refusing to look too much into the meaning of the other’s words. Another scowl formed in his face. “Of course I am early. Like an actual adult that has more responsibilities and matters to attend to than to get into childish games like tickle fights.”

If that could even be considered a tickle fight at all. It was nothing like the wars he and Wei Wuxian used to get when they were kids, far away from their parents and with too much energy, time and laughter to spare. More often than not they would be rolling on the soft soil or giving the other a surprise ambush in the middle of the piers, squeezing, digging and tickling anywhere they could reach. Teasing, taunting and threatening each other with every sound and laughter. Using all the tricks and pages on the book to get the upper hand for at least a few giddy, breathless seconds. Big smiles, warm hearts and adrenaline running freely in their bones for hours with no end until they both laid exhaustively on the ground, accidentally rolled into one of the lakes or Shiejie came to call them for dinner.

Jiang Cheng watched as the delicate hands rested on the other’s sides and continued to softly scribble non stop on the lowest ribs over and over again, taking turns before quickening their pace and making We Wuxian trash from a side to another with a high pitched ‘eee’ sound until it slowed the rhythm to a light plucking of strings, lightly pressing each spot and barely vibrating there before jumping away.

“Not a tickle fight.” The Lan enlightened. “Punishment.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! No! Please, have mercy. Take pity on your poor husband!”

It was like Jiang Cheng couldn’t pry his eyes away, watching as Lan Wangji calmly run the tip of his fingers up and down the others’ ticklish sides, repeating the cycle for a couple more of times, like a boat letting itself being dragged by the slow pace of the river in a calm day, completely unfazed by his husband’s increasing maddened snickers, his tune starting to border on hysterical.

For a moment, the fingers curled into claws and Jiang Cheng thought that he would actually use an efficient, honest and true tickle attack, finally kneading on the skin and letting the crackles and squeals fill the air with their cacophony. 

His hopes, however, seemed unfounded when the Lan just continued his soft touches, now using more of his nails to create an unbearable, ticklish feeling than only his fingertips and successfully pull more squeals and squeaks with such a move.

(And, if his own ticklish sides tingled in sympathy that was literally nobody's business and a secret that will die and be buried with him.)

Jiang Cheng finally snapped.

“That is not even the proper way you do it!” He did not get close and demonstrated his point, of course. Because he… (surely wouldn’t be welcomed to) he wasn’t a kid anymore and knew he was right. 

Yet, his hands still gesticulated around, antsy.

(Wanting to grab, wanting to dig, wanting to squeeze, to attack and win and listen and never let go again. To feel the taste of the victory of a brawl that is meaningless and only in playful fun, again. To hear screams of laughter and not of fear, to perform with the crackles and shrieks and giggles as the only instrument he was ever actually skilled. An especial melody of affection that needed no words and even he could learn how to play.)

Jiang Cheng pushed those thoughts deep down and continued.

“You’re not even giving any attention to his hips! It’s his most ticklish, weak, defenseless and easy spot ever!” He ignored the protesting, giggly shout from Wei Wuxian and continued, forcing himself to focus on his words and not on the natural answering smirk trying to take over the corner of his lips. “You just need to knead there for a few minutes and then he will be gone. Besides, when you add raspberries to it he’ll laughs so much that you will actually be able to shut him up for once. That is a proper tickle attack. With this, you’re just being lazy!” 

Purposely, he pointed to Lan Zhan’s administrations that now consisted in sweetly rubbing his thumbs on Wei Ying’s highest ribs, happily following his torso as it shook with the barely concealed chuckles and tried to wiggle away from the touch. A lazy job indeed. “You’re barely even touching him at all! That is not even tickling!”

“Oh, it tickles!” Wei Wuxian whined, words were almost completely lost with how much he was giggling. His arms trembled with the force to not slam down when Lan Zhan used a single finger to calmly poke and scratch his armpits, more than unfazed at both of the Yunmeng siblings' outburst. 

Actually, if Jiang Cheng squinted his eyes, he could actually imagine a challenging glint when those golden eyes quickly stared at him for a second. 

“It really tickles! It tickles so, so much!”

For a flash Jiang Cheng saw himself marching determinately at him, sitting on the ground and then diving to dig on Wei Wuxian’s hips non stop. Remind him what is actually a tickle attack so he would actually agree with his point and not poke fun at him just this once. Use the techniques that he took years to perfect and his muscles still remembered perfectly even when his mind refused to. Watch as that smug air in Lan Wangji changed to surprise when he got Wei Wuxian to really laugh and show all of them how right he was.

He crossed his arms even tighter around himself, growling harder and looking in another direction. His feet continued locked on the ground.

Unfortunately, Lan Zhang took the silence as an opportunity.

“Wei Ying is very cute and beautiful like this. Red and happy.”

“Lan Zhan! Warnings! You can’t say things like that without warning me first.” 

Jiang Cheng stopped right in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Wei Wuxian, time slowing as he realized what Lan Wangji had just said, barely processing the rest of their conversation. 

“Besides, I can think of something else that makes me very red and happy- Lan Zhan, no!”

“Shameless.”

“Husband, please, you’re killing meee!”

“Wei Ying.”

“Wait, wait, not there!”

It was true.

Jiang Cheng's eyes widened, but the image in front of him didn’t change. The other was right. 

Wei Wuxian was blushing in embarrassment. 

The color was not a fruit of his loud, unrestrained laughter, because for the last minutes all he did was giggle and snicker non stop, with plenty of oxygen and teases filling his lungs. It was not the result of any kind of flirt because Wei Wuxian took those as a challenge that he knew he would always win. It was not a make up he tried with Shijie. A natural consequence of spending an entire day under the sun training with his sword. It was nothing else. No other explanation besides the fact that, after thirty years, Jiang Cheng finally saw his brother get flustered. 

Embarrassed. 

Shy, even.

For the second time in his life, Jiang Cheng found Lan Wangji leaving him without words.

With a whoosh, he was out of the room.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, Jiang Cheng.”

As it always did, a pleasant shiver ran on his body when Lan Xichen called him. All of his previous thoughts disappearing immediately from his head, his usual frown naturally losing the heat and annoyance as he looked at the other. 

Lan Huan looked as ethereal and beautiful as ever, the white robes and blue hues pooling like waves at his feet and around his straight posture as he wrote on his desk, probably answering letters from other sects and solving administration matters. His hair was slightly messed and he was only in his inner robes, completely comfortable and domestic, not batting a single eye when Jiang Wanyin barged right in.

Even after being together so long, the scene still looked gorgeous as it always did. Like it came right out a scenery painted in a fan that you hid in your robes and carried close to your heart. A picture drawn straight from the purest jade. He had seen it plenty of times before and hoped to continue to do so for much more.

It left Jiang Cheng breathless.

“I see you’re back early.”

And just like that, his breath and frown were back again. The one in purple robes scoffed and closed the door. He headed to the bed, sitting there with a grunt. 

“Not in the mood to watch Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji declare their undying love for each other for the hundredth time of the day.”

Lan Huan chuckled. It rang sweet like the bells the Yunmeng sect used to expurge curses and clean the mind. “I see. Perhaps it’s time to start closing your eyes, then?”

But the light tease didn’t actually register for him, because for a moment he looked at the other and another scene appeared in his mind as a flash. 

Lan Xichen’s smile growing bigger, wobbling at the corners as his controlled chuckles were transformed into bubbly giggles and loud snickers, his entire face covered by a layer of red that spread in a beautiful hue from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his eyes - teary and brilliant and so full of love and feelings - watching him in excitement, protests that held no true meaning falling freely from his lips and locking Jiang Cheng’s gaze forever on him with how melodious it was.

As it was usual, his body and mouth were already acting even before his own mind catched up with it.

“I want to try something new.” He listened his own voice saying. Steps steady and determined carried him to the sect leader Lan and pulled him to his feet, basically dragging him back to his bed.

Lan Xichen didn’t yelp, but let out a tiny surprised sound when Jiang Cheng shoved (much gentler than anyone could ever believe him of being) him on the mattress, quickly straddling him and sitting on his thighs, storming gray eyes looking at him intensely, watching his every twitch and expression in search for any kind of discomfort. 

Of course, realizing that only made Lan Xichen melt, following the other’s lead easily.

(Not blindly, of course. )

(He sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to do so, ever again, but those are thoughts for other moments.) 

So he tilted his head and questioned to those brilliant eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want…” And his face morphed, never losing its lines of determination and decision, but now being tinted in red as Jiang Cheng looked away from him, a very lovely blush taking over his face. His jaw locked and words quieter, as if they were being pushed through his teeth. There was shyness in his tune. “To tickle you.”

“Oh.” 

Lan Xichen tried to not sound too teasy, but he couldn’t really hide the playful amusement taking over his tune, his expression, his gaze, his everything after such an adorable admission. 

He didn’t really know what sputtered his lover’s mood all of sudden, but interacting with Wei Wuxian and his own brother always left Jiang Wanyin’s emotions all over the place. If what his beloved needed after this afternoon was to have him laughing hysterically until he was a mess, completely putty and willing under his strong and trustworthy hands, Lan Xichen hardly had any opposition to this.

(Which wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t look into some sweet… justice, later. Revenge is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, afterall.)

Tickling was always a concept that interested him immensely. The laughter full of joy and the touches that were both incredibly warm and completely unbearable, together with the playfulness of the teases and the care intertwined in every note of those steps made his heart softer and his stomach flutter pleasantly everytime such bonding activity was involved. Especially when it came to Jiang Cheng.

“Alright.” He said. “I won’t hold back, then.”

“You better not.” The one in purple bit back, but his words held no heat and there was a grateful line softening all of the hard edges in his body. He positioned his hands on Lan Huan’s ribs - a good starting point, not too ticklish so he would lose all his energy right in the beginning and yet effective enough that just with a few moments of drilling his laughter would already be bubbling out of his lips. 

Jiang Cheng felt how Lan Xichen tensed instinctively under him and he curled his fingers close, just enough for his nails would graze on his skin, actually giving him a reason to tense up this time and successfully pulling a squirm out of the Lan.

Perfect. He just needed to keep going like that. Soft and light. See for himself what is so special about this technique that it’s worth giving up the adrenaline of seeing someone become undone with only a few touches, to watch them get hysterical, loud, free with the more effective and energetic tickly ministrations. See how long would it take for his lover to become a total mess, to completely lose the battle against the sensations and just let himself be lost in a sea of giggles and blushes. 

Exactly. Just like that. 

Soft and light. 

Simple and clear as water.

His fingers didn’t want to move.

That was the thing, wasn’t it? 

Jiang Cheng wasn’t gentle. Nothing about him was soft, or light, or caring. His fingers were calloused and his skin thick after years of handling Zidian and its electricity, of carrying oars and rowing around the countless rivers in Lotus Pier and holding his weight in fights since he was a child, not at all skilled in the finest arts such as playing instruments skillfully like Lan Huan or painting beautiful landscapes as Nie Huaisang. 

His hands were the reason of more pain and tears than laughter and happiness. He was Sandu Shengshou and he carried that mantle with pride. It's what made him survive after the Wen’s massacre of his clan. It's what brought his entire sect rising back again, strong and new from the ashes and fire as he maintained every building, every alliance, every battle to prove their worth with his own sweat and blood, clawing, tearing and snarling his way up, up, up. Until Yunmeng was back to be one of the four most powerful and influential sects again. Until him, A-Ling and the entire world of cultivation had more than smoke and destruction to remember his family by. Until the other’s pity became respect and fear. It was what had been necessary at the time. He did what he had to.  

(It was what destroyed one of the last remnants of his family and pushed his brother far and away. What left him angry and frustrated behind, hitting back at anything that got too close, completely alone in the world except for a nephew that he had to raise, too young to even remember his parents. It was what consumed his every action and every thought and every lashing until there was nothing left except hope and resentment. 

And yet… He was still here. Trying. His nephew was now the leader of his own sect. Yet, he was blessed with Lan Xichen. Yet, his sect respects and grows under his direction and the rivers continue to flow and the lotus to bloom totally uncaring for the tribulations of his mind. Yet, his brother is finally back and they are still trying to fix all of that.)

(Trying.)

A hand pulled him right out of his merciless thoughts, smothering the hard lines of his frown. Lan Xichen’s eyes immediately found his own, staring at his surprised face for some seconds before lifting his torso and placing gentle kisses on his front, following the path of warmth and electricity that his touch had already started. 

The care and intimacy made Jiang Cheng scoff and frown again but now for an entirely different reason, momentarily rendered unable to move to hide his flaming face until the other decided that all the lines of his expression had been thoroughly kissed and smothered enough, no more darkness or doubt filling his gaze.

Clear enough from his previous thoughts, that only made him get even more determined about his decision, not shying away from the leader from Gusu Lan’s sect when those brown eyes focused on him, plenty comfortable to just lay there and exchange silences until Jiang Cheng could gather and organize his thoughts. 

“I want to be gentle.” He finally spit, words tumbling out of his lips before he could take them back. 

The eyes crinkled on the corners and seemed to shine brighter in understanding and then something else, so strong that made it impossible for him to keep holding his gaze, feeling strangely bashful under it. The feared Sandu Shengsou humphed and turned away his gaze, again.

…That wouldn’t work. He had to be able to watch and analyze his Lan Huan’s every tiny reaction, every quiet sound and every hint of movement to map all his best spots and what tickling worked best, with this new technique. He may not be totally sold to this entire idea of “soft touches” yet, but that was no excuse to not do a decent job. 

Jiang Cheng had never half assed any of the things he set his mind to do and he isn’t about to start doing that now.

He wasn’t sure of how successful he would be in that, however, when Lan Huan’s gaze kept capturing and rendering him defenseless with those beautiful stares again and again.

“Close your eyes.”

Lan Xichen arched an eyebrow, more amused than questioning, but he hesitated for half of a second. It was enough to make Jiang Cheng’s brain disconnect from his lips and words fall, blunt and true, from his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I can’t do it with you looking. It’s frustrating and distracting.” (Mesmerizing. Beautiful. The only thing I could look at for hours and hours at the time.)

Once more, the other’s brown eyes got filled with fun and something before he complied.

“Alright. I will be sure to give you my oral report in the most detailed and thorough manner as possible afterwards, of course.”

“Shut it.” Jiang Cheng digged on his ribs momentarily, a hot flush of pride spreading on his soul at how that made Lan Huan immediately jump, a surprised squeak filling the air and almost convincing the one in purple to throw away everything else and just dig more and more until those and other delightful sounds ran loud and free across the room.

But, no. Now, he had another objective.

He stopped pressing so firmly on the skin, leaving his fingers only resting on the spot before slowly running them up and down on his ribcage. 

Holding his breath, Lan Xichen waited. When no other attack came besides the soothing rubbing, his body inevitably relaxed little by little, melting with the ministrations. 

“That is very nice.” His words came out less jokingly than before, shining with genuinity. Of course, lying was forbidden in the Clouds Recesses, however, a direct honesty was a rare threat that Wanyin was more than happy to enjoy. “Mm.”

Jiang Cheng hummed in acknowledgement and continued with his touch. 

With no hurry, he took his time to let his fingers wander, lower enough to caress the dip of the other’s hips and then back up, deviating from his torso to massage his arms and shoulders and slightly press his thumbs in circling motions on the base of his neck. 

For a moment he mused letting his hands go even higher to cup his face so he could kiss it. That idea was fastly discarded, though, since Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he could quickly be dissuaded from his new experiment if they were to follow this path. Lan Xichen knew how to be very distracting when he wanted to.

His hands continued to wander on that very same path for a few more minutes and soon enough Lan Xichen felt himself even more relaxed, as if floating in clouds, not even bothered by the small sounds that kept being fished from his lips again and again as the soft touch kept slipping and brushing on every sensitive part of his body before continuing with its path. 

It was like Jiang Wanyin was mapping every single weak spot on his torso and purposely focusing on them with tiny scribbles and light scratches more and more. 

With each new repetition, Lan Huan could only feel the tingles spreading further across his nerves, teasing and tickling them for seconds after the caring, a tad unbearable touch of the other went away, only barely starting to subside before those playful fingers were back to alight them once more, making the tickly sensations grow stronger and never really end.

Therefore, his relaxed sounds quickly began being interrupted by huffs of laughter and tiny notes on the back of his throat that were starting to sound too much like high pitched giggles to be ignored or pushed away.

Lan Xichen was so lost in those thoughts that he barely registered as the hands came to a stop on his ribcage, spreading across his ribs and on those awfully sensitive places in between them. Not until small, extremely controlled and tiny sparks of electricity made him jump, pulling a surprised, and uncharacteristically loud shriek from him, his mind and body falling too quickly from the clouds for him to try to stop its escape.

Jiang Cheng chuckled darkly. 

“Oi, what was that?”

When he pressed his lips and didn’t answer, another spark of electricity teased the spot, and then another and another and another. Lan Huan felt himself grow giddier, not being able to help but squeak and yelp at each new attack on his poor ribs. 

“To think that only Zidian could have so much effect on the very own Zewu Jun. Maybe I should have tried to use it earlier if I knew it could make you squeal like that.” The feeling of giggles in the back of his throat came back with full force. He bit them back. “Tell me, Xichen, how much longer do you think you could take it before descending into madness? You’re barely surviving those few sparks as it is. What if I decided to wrap the Zidian around you and unleash all this new power. How much time do you think you would be able to hold your laughter back, then?”

His eyes were closed but Lan Xichen could feel the other’s gaze on him, staring unblinking and attentively, drinking up his every reaction. He knew he could see how the light burn of blush started to take over his ears and spread lower in his neck, how his torso squirmed instinctively with each word. In a desperate attempt of defense, he scrambled for anything before his brain, who was trying really, really hard to not think about Jiang Wanyin’s words or otherwise he would die, caught up into a cute, very special detail about this new tactic of his.

“Have,” he gulped, taking a few tries before his words could come out with just a slight tremble on them, hiding the persistent joyful energy that kept trying to take over. By the way that Jiang Cheng’s fingers digged on his ribcage and began vibrating in a low, warning pace, he wasn’t very satisfied with this. 

Still, no one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, even the most stubborn of their lovers. He continued.

“Have you been training harmless ways to use your Zidian lately, Sandu Shengshou?”

The fingers on his ribcage froze, and a very pointed silence followed his question. As a result, his smile got even bigger, making him want to open his eyes just to see the delightful effect of his words on his beloved. 

Lan Huan decided to push his luck a tad further, putting all the fondness and warmth he was feeling in his words and tune until it spilled in every syllable and letter. 

“To think my dear Jiang Wanyin could be so attentive and cute. Must have taken a lot of time and practice to achieve a fine skill like this one.” Then, with a more innocent tune. “I would love to hear all about how you accomplished such a dangerous feat to perfection all by yourself. How much restraint it must have taken.”

The implications were clear, even if he didn’t say anything else out loud, pulling his sleeved hand up to cover his playful grin. 

Jiang Cheng felt his entire body, from his tip of his nose to the end of his fingers, burn, flustered, when he remembered all those times he had to test the technique on himself, learning how to control the power he could use in each attack. It took weeks until he had perfected the new tactics and made those tiny sparks spread a maddening, tickling feeling across every sense and a giggle sprouted in his mouth. 

Only then he allowed himself to try it on others. Sneaking a few electric pokes and jabs to hit his disciples once or twice while correcting their forms during the training and watching them or jump away surprisingly or try to hide their initial squeaky reaction, especially under his usual frowning, serious gaze. It was the only way to be sure that it worked, of course. 

So much work only so he could surprise his family in a future tickle fight, having now a new trick under his sleeve to put in good use.

Jiang Cheng growled in answer to the tease and his fingers crawled higher, filled with electricity while poking and prodding all their way up the other’s torso until it stopped just a few inches from his armpits. He watched with satisfaction the way that just the hint of his hands there made Lan Xichen wiggle like a worm from one side to another. Plenty of poorly concealed snickery titters filled the room the entire time, his hand shooting down again, showing his smile once more.

(Really, who did Lan Xichen think he could fool with this? Hadn’t he been the one to say he wouldn’t hold back? And yet he kept concealing smiles and holding up his laughter in every way. Hmph.)

(Nevertheless, Jiang Cheng couldn’t really say that the prospect of breaking his barriers bit by bit until he could no longer hold back his every giggle, chuckle, crackle and squeal didn’t fill him with new fierce, unwavering determination to keep going.)

“You want to talk about restraint, then?” Jiang Wanyin snarked, getting closer and feeling incredibly smug when that succeeded in turning Lan Xichen’s grin much wobblier and shakier.

His smirk shone, taking over his entire expression, sharp enough for the other to feel it without needing to see. 

“I have a challenge. To see how much of your giant and stubborn self control will save you when you’re completely at my mercy.” 

His words were taunting and, still, Lan Xichen couldn’t even pretend to feel truly threatened by them. 

Somehow, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Jiang Wanyin let out those fond huffs he always did when he thought someone was being too cute for no reason and his tune got into a mix of soft and exasperated. 

“But, if you’re already giddy and giggling like this-” to highlight his words he suddenly pressed on the pits, making a snort explode from him, his bubbly snickers that the other just described jumping on his throat and begging to be set free. The burn of his ears was back. “When I have barely even done anything? Maybe it won’t be a challenge at all. I didn’t even get to start with the real tickling and you already look so close to losing.”

Maybe it was the playfulness. Maybe it was how at ease and safe he felt around the other. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the new game. The joy of seeing how much fun Jiang Cheng was having, how vocal he was being about it. However, for once, Lan Huan didn’t even think twice about the words that were falling from his mouth.

“I am still not laughing right now, though. Am I, Jiang Cheng?”

There was a quick, sharp intake of breath and some seconds of dangerous silence. Lan Xichen felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing and a small hum of electricity charged the air.

A low, raspy chuckle that sounded so close to him made a kind of energy that had nothing to do with the Zidian run like crazy across his spine, sending all his nerves into a frenzy and his mind to tip the abyss of incoherency. Two hands laid on his wrists and started to pull them upwards until they rested nicely above his head, leaving his entire torso free from any form of defense.

His voice was really, really close.

“Don’t you dare to put them down or I won’t hold back.”

Having already played too much with fire, Lan Huan only nodded, letting the other concentrate once again in his attack. He took a deep breath and buried his reactions and snickers deep inside, relaxing his muscles and reining his expression and soul back into a calm and serene appearance, as if he was just getting ready for another afternoon of meditating.

Very well, if this was a challenge, he might as well give his best.

(No one could overcome a Lan in a battle of self control, afterall.)

Jiang Wanyin went back to a more upright position and stopped for a few seconds, eying the arms in front of him with a concentrated consideration. 

Unexpectedly, he remembered a game that his Shiejie used to play with him when he was being too grumpy as a kid, which was, non-surprisingly, more often than not. The pang on his chest that always came when he thought about her didn’t feel as painful as it normally did, not when he was surrounded by Lan Xichen’s warmth and presence, when there was too much joy and happiness going around. It did, though, gave him an idea.

He laid one finger on the center of the other’s slender palm, and slowly started to swirl his digit over its lines and curves. The muscles under it trembled and his sharp attention was quick to capture how it made Lan Huan’s breath hitch for a moment before it went back to normal, face as calm as ever. 

Jiang Cheng felt like a predator, slowly backing his prey into a corner. 

Carefully, he continued drawing spirals on the skin, doing a couple of them before going up to lightly scribble at each finger, being careful to keep the touches light and soft as he went descending to the wrist. Every single inch of it got a good skittering and a few more swirls, dancing fingers continuing to follow their path. 

Getting to the forearm, Jiang Wanyin changed the pace of his fingers and the pressure of his touch, now focusing and curling more his fingers and letting his nails drag themselves freely across his skin. Goosebumps follows his tickles, especially as he decided to take a break on the inner part of Lan Xichen’s elbow and dance, scratch and scribble on the most sensitive spots he found until now, quiet as ever as he used every ounce of his attention to catch and internally cherish every surprised, barely audible huff and puff of snickers from his lover with the breakeaned pattern.

The path across his biceps was even slower, with him doing everything to drag the moment for as long as he could before arriving at his primer destination: the armpit. His hand rested there, not even twitching as he saw Lan Huan hold his breath, waiting in expectation for his next move.

Because it would be foolish to think he wouldn’t have another one prepared. That he wasn’t as expectant as Lan Xichen himself for the moment that the dam would finally break and his usual merciless and energetic tickle attack would be unleashed upon every single tickle spot. 

But Jiang Cheng was feeling mischievous. The game had barely begun, afterall. 

So, with his other free hand, he started repeating the same tickly treatment on his other palm, and thinking that was it, Lan Xichen allowed himself to exhale, gathering his strength to keep up with the challenge, feeling a bit more confident for it, since now he already had an idea of what was going to happen.

That was until the leader of Yunmeng sect began pinching his armpit and a sharp gasp was suddenly ripped from him. His arms twitched downwards and his head turned just half of an inch to the side, cheeks puffing just the tiniest bit with barely concealed sounds before it all turned back to normal, his face going back to a serene, unbothered mask. 

Still, no small details escaped Jiang Cheng’s attentive gaze: the way that his fingers curled every time he hit a sweet spot, how the skin around his eyes crinkled when a playful poke hit his pit, and, especially, how red his ears were getting, the color starting to spill to his neck with each passing second. 

This was fine. 

Jiang Wanyin could be patient. Precise. Unwavering. 

There was one yet to be born who was able to win against him when it came to stubbornness.

Therefore, he continued his double attack, assaulting the defenseless armpit with gentle, quick pinches that felt like tiny kisses on his skin at the same time that his other hand concentrated all the skittering and dancing on the other ticklish arm. 

The longer he went, the more his tranquil façade began to slip, each and every single occasion being followed by way too smug chuckles that made Lan Huan both want to kiss his lover, let everything go and let himself giggle non stop or even worse: whine in protest. 

The thing that Lan Xichen failed to consider when accepting this challenge was a very simple one: he did not realize how absolutely maddening and unbearably quiet this all would be. 

Silence had never bothered him, of course. Yet, right now it only left him with no other option but to concentrate on everything happening around him: on the way his lover kept scribbling, pinching and poking his tickle spots calmly without ever, ever moving away. On the soft tingling touches following his every twitch. In those attentive eyes that kept watching his every reaction, every move and smile. All of his sharky intakes of breath, gasps, yelps and quiet snickers seemed to resonate in his ears and across the room like they were being amplified. There was only one thing that interrupted them:

Jiang Wanyin’s teases.

“What?” Said one taunted as he finally, finally decided to move on from his poor armpits. His relief, though, was very short when he pressed on his higher ribs and vibrated. Lan Huan’s back arched and a snort almost broke his barriers. “You thought it was over? Not so soon, I still have much, much more places to explore. Is the challenge getting too hard for you already?”

He didn’t answer, too much concentrated in keeping his composure as those horrible, unfair and worming fingers quickly scrambled to wiggle on the base of his spine, their light scratches making him want to jump from his skin. His body tried to move both far away and much closer from the sensation. 

“I can see your arms coming down, Lan Huan. Keep them up, I said. Have you forgotten about my promise that quickly or are you testing me? Do you really want me to destroy you with tickles that bad?”

Lan Xichen held his breath and squirmed lightly in the same place. Usually Jiang Wanyin’s merciless teasing was accompanied by an equally ruthless tickling that would leave him laughing hysterically, too occupied with his own inelegant and extremely loud crackling to even think too much about his words. As they were right now, however, he was just unable to tune every provocation and every tickle out. 

Even if he stopped pressing his lips so tightly and let his control crumble, the leader of Lan Sect was pretty sure that his bubbly giggles and childish squeaks wouldn’t even come close to subdue his lover’s sentences. No one could ever dream of being able to outshout the very own Sandu Shengshou, afterall.

Those hands crept higher, jumping from his spine to press on each and every rib on its way for so quickly, so, so fast that the touch only lasted a few seconds before the fingers scrambled away as if his skin was made of fire. The pokes came one after the other in a rapid succession that teased and left more ticklish sparks across every nerve. At this point he couldn’t even distinguish if Jiang Cheng was using the Zidian or if all the anticipation and gentle scribbles made him infinitely more ticklish, muscles tensing and trembling with every touch.

Lan Xichen found himself on the brick of letting his control go and his snickers and chuckles free. His arms and armpits still tingled from the previous attack and every instinctive twitch of his torso made a new wave of phantom tickles tease them, his entire body feeling just like a giant, ticklish spot. 

His lips were wobbly and a smile was finally able to blossom on them.

His arms went down.

“Lan Huan,” Jiang Wanyin warned once more. 

A single finger began scribbling and prodding at his spine, way too close from his shoulderblades too be a coincidence and Lan Xichen wanted to kick out the pent up energy that didn’t stop flooding his veins. His back once more arched a piece of time longer than the previous time. Lan Huan caught himself and forced it to relax again into the laying position, bringing it right back to the assaulting finger. It was quite counterproductive, since it made him want to squirm away all over again. “Put your arms back up.”

Lan Xichen felt like he had all the reason for the pout he showed the other, still he hid it all the same behind one of his sleeves. 

There was simply no warning before the hand on his spine pressed on and drummed in a full attack on the spot, making his entire body spasm with the force of the crackle he had to hold, torso squirming away but unable to truly escape from the tickles.

Jiang Cheng’s previous other free hand latched on his side and began squeezing. His entire body now bounced, cheeks puffed out with all the laughing being held inside. Still, no sound left him. Thoughts and feeling zig zagged in his mind in a totally undignified frenetic manner that would certainly make his uncle and the elders of the clan go into qi deviation if they knew.

“I told you, didn’t I? Arms up, Lan Huan.”

Lan Xichen kicked, pressed his hand firmly on his mouth and squirmed on the same place, feeling like laughter was about to break and fill the entire room in any second now. He managed to endure a total of half of a minute before his arms were shooting upwards again and, just as fast, the hands there were just now mercilessly assaulting his ticklish with all the kneading and drilling of an energetic tickle attack, went back to caressing softly at his skin. 

He quietly muffled a tiny, surprised squeak. Somehow the light, sweet scratches felt even more awfully tickly now than before and Lan Huan barely had any willpower left to keep his bubbly, high pitched reactions inside as he tried to take his breath back.

“I can see your barrier cracking.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was suddenly horribly close and he hummed in response to the teasy words. No matter how giggly and silly he sounded now or how fireflies batted their wings like crazy in his belly or how his lips couldn’t stop curling upwards and his face started getting redder than ever. It was only a hum. “I can see how your eyes crinkle and how your smile grows bigger and bigger with every tiny, smallest move of my fingers. I can feel how your muscles tremble under them, before you regain your control and force them to relax. I can hear your giddiness and how you hold your breath every time I find a new defenseless, sensitive spot. I know how it’s taking longer and longer for you to gather your restrain and hide all of these little details.”

At that, he purposely focuses his attention in prodding and wiggling his fingers in the place where Lan Huan’s stomach and side meet, pulling another loud snort from him. 

“And,” Jiang Cheng continues, his usual rough tune coming out like a pleased purring of a predator that circles his prey. “Above it all, I can see how you try to move your face away from me, Lan Huan. But you’re not getting away. No. Not after all the effort I used here and not until I get to see how much of a laughing, blushing mess I can make our elegant Zewu Jun to be. Until you won’t be able to look at me without feeling giggles filling your throat and a smile taking over your face. Until I get to hear every squeal, every snicker, every delightful, uncontrollable reaction you have to offer.”

Lan Xichen felt like he was going to explode. The gentle tickling continued as slow and as light as always, sweet and lovely as if nothing had happened at all, in a total contrast from the absolutely unmerciful and on point that it was every tease. Each word seemed to hit his sensitive ears and coax him closer to giving up from a challenge that he never really cared about in the first place. 

Jiang Wanyin seemed very aware of all of this. The leader of the Lan Sect wondered when did they become so crystal clear to each other.

“And then, when all of your barriers break, when your self control and restraint can no longer save you from me, I will keep on tickling, keep on teasing and keep on getting all of your smiles, squirms and giggles, over and over and over again.”

A quick pinch kissed his hips and Lan Huan let a giggle escape from his lips.

And then another and another and another. Suddenly, the room was filled by a high pitched, quick and loud giggling fit that he hardly indulged in his daily life, making his ears feel like they were on fire when, with each passing second, they only continued to grow more uncontrollable and ring louder, being interrupted only by a couple of snorts before continuing their song and dance.

A white flash suddenly appeared in Jiang Wanyin’s field of vision and in a blink those long sleeves were concealing his lover’s smile again. 

Jiang Cheng huffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden bashfulness of the other and Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his to see the fondly exasperated grin that always accompanied those moments. 

After a few pieces of second when he saw that the other wouldn’t really move, the one in purple robes tried to take his arms away from his face. However, the Lan simply dodged from his grip, giving Jiang Cheng only a glimpse of that full dazzling smile before it was gone again, sleeves fluttering skillfully in and out of his hold when he kept trying to push them out of the way.    

"Stop hiding your face!" For once his exclamation didn’t even pretend to sound annoyed, the threat hidden in his words losing any and every heat as it got mixed with a bark of laughter. “Wasn’t you the one who was all about not holding back just minutes ago?”

Lan Xichen merely chuckled. Jiang Cheng kept fighting to pin, once more, his energetic arms.

In the end, he was successful, of course. 

His lover had been barely trying, afterall.

Still, he felt a tad breathless, little from the quick roughhousing and much more because he was suddenly hit by the full image of Lan Huan’s handsome, gorgeous face. He could feel his own skin heat up as he momentarily froze in the same place.

Lan Xichen lightly pulled his arms in protest, unaware of the other’s struggles. "It's stronger than me!" He giggled a defense and the way that it sounded like it was only two seconds from becoming a screech broke Jiang Wanyin out of it.

Once again, a huff left his mouth.

The hands stopped their dance on his hips. It took three heartbeats, but Lan Xichen felt his pinned wrists being pressed a bit stronger on the mattress and the weight on his thighs shifted forward. If that hadn’t indicated that the Yumeng sect leader moved closer, the voice hitting his absurdly red ear certainly would. 

“You know who else is stronger than you?”

There was a hint of a growling in his tune that made bells ring in alarm in his mind, nerves getting alight with electricity. 

For a moment he almost gave up and opened his eyes, wanting to see what was happening, but the anticipation on the air was already stronger and Xichen wanted to hear where it would go if he didn’t tip it any further. The hands on his wrists gave them a squeeze that was both too much of a warning to be a purely comforting touch and way too soft to match the threatening tune that fell from Jiang Wanyin's lips. 

“Me.” 

His breath now teased the skin of his neck, making electricity to fly across the tickle spots to his mouth, expanding his smile. "So I will repeat myself just this last time: keep your arms here, nice and far away from that pretty face, or I will do it for you. Deal?" 

Lan Xichen’s snickering now had less to do with the tickles and, just for the fun of it, he tipped his head to the side, as if thinking about his answer. 

(If that opened the path of his neck for more attacks, it was simply a coincidence. He hummed a not-so-controlled giggle when his lover caved to the cute sign and laid a quick kiss on the base of his jaw. Good, he was starting to think he would have to pout for it.) 

He could feel those gray eyes glued on him as the silence stretched and the squeezing of his hands quickly changed to a firmer hold of his wrists in an answer of a question that hadn’t even been voiced in the first place. 

"Oi, I am going to break your legs!” This time, Lan Huan really couldn’t help the playful tilt of his tune as the snickers grew to full chuckling, his reactions being totally unleashed and all over the place. They sounded just the tiniest bit hysterical, but the teasingness of it couldn’t really be ignored. Jiang Wanyin made it too easy. “Tsk. I thought it was against the great Gusu Lan's rules to be impolite. Disrespecting and leaving another Sect Leader without an answer is an offense that is not taken lightly." 

Truly, the words had slipped from Lan Xichen’s lips even before he could truly ponder about them.

"Maybe some people just like to think before answering, Wanyin." 

(Lan Xichen ignored the irony.)

Before the other's growl could become stronger and his hands got free for the only purpose of absolutely destroying him with tickles until he took every single syllable back, Lan Xichen quickly lifted his torso and planted a giggly, placating kiss on his cheek, opening his eyes just about time to see that lovely red blossoming across Jiang Wanyin’s entire face. 

With his expression completely relaxed, the surprise and fluster successfully whipped away the frown that naturally appeared anytime he was provoked. 

With this, truly, Lan Huan couldn't really be blamed for the other couple of pecks he stole before the feared Sandu Shengsou came back from the surprise and turned away, hair falling in front of his face in a poor attempt to hide it while his hands continued to rend him immobile. 

"I will keep my arms up." He chipped, because even with his pokes of fun, the feeling that he would never be able to see Jiang Cheng’s hands getting close again without breaking into a sea of crackling snickers and the phantom tingling that kept playing with his nerves like a guqin, he was still having too much fun playing with this new side of his lover and he would actually hate to take the teases too far. 

"Feeling very confident today, aren’t you?" Lan Xichen felt his eyes widen. There was simply no other way to describe it, but when the other’s gaze fell on him, it could only describe them as hungry. 

"Let's see how much breath you'll have to tease me when we're done." 

Just like that, those hands were back, making him want to curl into a ball when, even after everything, no energetic, quick and destroying tickle attack assaulted his hips in a kneading, clawing and drilling dance that he knew so well and prepared for. A kind of attack that would have him lose control and laugh immediately, not caring at all about rules or pretenses for minutes at time.

Instead, this touch was light, traveling across his sides. It wiggled and scratched at any and every inch of skin, careful to not forget a single spot. 

Remembering Jiang Wanyin's first request, he closed his eyes, trying his best to not take the other's example and try to hide his own blushing face behind the curtains of his own hair. The tiny, unusual giggles flooding and spilling from his lips hysterically were back. 

They continued like that for a couple of minutes, Jiang Cheng actually feeling impressed with how Lan Xichen kept his arms - shaking in a far image from the how composed they were in the beginning of the game - up the entire time, especially as his pokes and pinches now deliberately focused on the most ticklish spots, wiggling and skittering more and more frequently as the seconds ticked by.

It didn’t take too long before he started feeling antsy. With all his lover’s most sensitive and weak spots being successfully mapped out so he could focus entirely on them and with the challenge no longer running there wasn’t a lot to focus besides the extremely cute reactions of his beloved, which was something he could indeed watch forever, but also something that he knew he could make it become even more adorable. That nagging feeling that he just needed to do something kept him agitated.

Usually, with his usual ruthless attacks, that would be the moment he would find himself spilling how precious and important Lan Huan was to him. How his presence warmed the coldest of the nights and his smiles brightened the greyest of his days. In those moments, though, his words were accompanied by a loud crackling or hysterical laughter, making it impossible for the other to even see how much vulnerable he decided to be. 

It was easier this way, when he was sure that his beloved wouldn’t take the chance to start praising him and make him freeze, or even worse, stutter over his words, quickly turning the tables about who the blushing mess was. 

(Gods, Huan was simply merciless when he stuttered, throwing one praise after another in a quick succession before he could even think of getting his footing again, refusing to not let the full extension of his own affection to show with his, as well.)

Jiang Cheng was definitely not a fool to even think to start, in that sweet, calm pace of the melodious giggling fit, a battle he knew he would not win.

Technically, he knew that Lan Xichen in no way minded the silence, he was the brother of Lan Wangji, after all. Yet, he found himself thinking about some other tease, a game or anything he could say or do to see which more reactions he could get.

At the sudden thought of his brother in law, an idea appeared in his mind. A kind of… provocation he saw him using earlier, if he could even call it that. 

It was silly, but it was worth a try.

He lowered his voice in a tune he knew that it affected the other immensely, raspy and paused. 

“Lan Huan.”

“Yes?”

The answer was as quick and eager as ever, no tilt of playfulness of flustering falling from it. Embarrassedly, Jiang Cheng felt his face get on fire.

(How would he know that this wouldn’t work! When he himself still felt as defenseless and soft as the first time Sect Leader Lan used his given name when he continued using it every single day?)

“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen tried again when no answer came, opening his eyes only to see the other quickly deviate his gaze, blush deep in his face, a giant pout resting on his lips. It only made him laugh harder, albeit confusedly.

“Nothing.” He grumbled. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

Lan Huan opened his mouth to disagree that there wasn’t anything unimportant when it came to Jiang Cheng when the assaulting hand decided that this was the perfect moment to claw on his belly, drumming and scratching fingers way too close to his bellybutton to be a coincidence. A shriek cut his thought process and opened the gates for all the high pitched series of squeaks that left his lips, snickery fit growing up a notch.

“Jiang Wanyin!” He protested at the clear attempt of distraction, refusing to break contact and close his eyes again. 

That is how he managed to see the exact moment Jiang Cheng faltered for a second with his words. Suddenly the redness of his face was painting from the tip of his ears to the tip of his nose and a shudder clearly went through him. Tiny pinches, much quicker and persistent than before, as if demanding his attention, began traveling all across his stomach.

He giggled hysterically. Yet refusing to stop until he discovered what was that about.

“Jiang Cheng!”

His eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, which gave the Lan a fun contrast with the giant smile plastered in his expression. 

“Sush. It was nothing.”

Why was he reacting like this? Nothing had happened in those last moments and all Lan Xichen did was…

Wait. Could it be…

“Jiang Cheng?” He pushed the words through his high pitched giggles again, not caring how each syllable was completely consumed by his giddy, bubbly and quite silly reactions.

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t stop the way that his blush worsened at this crawling to his neck. His lover’s entire face brightened in understanding.

“Jiang Cheng!” Lan Huan looked like a kid being presented with his favorite toy as a gift. His voice was absolutely delighted, joyful and completely unbothered about how adorable and sweet he made Jiang Cheng’s name sound like this. His tittering and chuckling painted every syllable and sound in a maddening manner that made Jiang Cheng feel like he could keep tickling and listening to it forever. 

It was a dangerous weapon. 

He sticked his finger on his bellybutton in retaliation, scratching the walls and prodding the spot in a way that he knew would make the other go insane with ticklish sensations.

Those chuckles quickly evolved to a loud, belly laughter. 

Lan Huan’s back arched with the new attack and slammed back on the mattress, legs kicking uncontrollably at the sensations. In an alarming sign, Jiang Cheng saw him opening his mouth and quickly sent his other free hand to dig and drum on the rest of his stomach, spidering, squeezing and kneading everywhere he could touch in hopes of making him lose his breath. 

And still… 

“Jiang Wanyin! Jiang Cheng! Cute Cheng!”

Each word was shouted in joy, nothing like the usual calm and proper way Lan Xichen usually held himself. With his heart melting and his chest feeling just like it would explode, Jiang Cheng decided, he has no other option, truly. 

In a swift and quick movement, he freed his hands and turned around, latching on his knees and squeezing.

The sound that came out of the other’s mouth cut across the entire mountain chain, a mix of a shriek and loud crackling filling the air immediately. Jiang Cheng almost stopped right on his tracks with the sheer volume and force of it, quickly turning back to see Lan Xichen completely boneless on the mattress, head thrown back, mouth open wide and eyes crinkling in the corners as squeals and chortles mingled with his unstoppable laughing fit.

It did nothing to stop the warmth filling his soul.

Lan Huan could barely think about anything else but the tickles, how they demanded every ounce of his attention, took over his every thought and danced in every nerve, especially when those playful hands decided to wiggle their way to under his knees and scribble on the horrible, awfully sensitive soft skin there as if their lives depended on it, drumming and scratching non stop.

Well, he had quite asked for this.

Still, when a couple of curious tickly sparkles touched his knees and made all of his senses explode in tingles and laughter and tickles and snorts and tickles, his body automatically jumped to a sitting position and his arms engulfed the other, face immediately hiding on his back in a poor attempt to muffle a loud screech. 

The sparkles, squeezing and drumming continued for gods know how long. Lan Xichen could feel his entire body bounce with the force of each one of his crackles, giggling and squeaks. Jiang Cheng’s own amused chuckles accompanied his, even if the Lan wasn’t really able to make out the teasing words he uttered from time to time and made his back rumble, too occupied in feeling like he was going mad with tickling.

His body moved before his mind, once more. In a blink he was crackling too much to keep himself upwards and in the other he was smashing his lips against Jiang Cheng’s and muffling his laughter until the assault of his worst spot stopped and his reactions lowered to a string of non-stop snickers.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, but turned himself around and adjusted his pose so they could continue the new activity more comfortably.

Lan Xichen jolted and grinned in a truly ungraceful manner when those two hands came to rest on his sides, but they only rubbed firmly on the skin, the new giggles created by the scare being quickly kissed away as the other refused to let Lan Xichen be distracted by anything else that wasn’t him.

It didn’t take long before he melted completely again, his arms coming to rest on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and the blush painting his ears now for a completely different reason.

They separated to take a few gulps of air, lingering smiles and shining gazes focused on each other for a few moments. Already recovered, Lan Xichen found himself diving right back in, locking their lips together and pressing closer and closer.

That is, until the traitors, lying hands on his sides, digged on the sensitive spot with all their might. His arms came crashing down and his body tried to curl in a defensive ball, but it was already too late. A new round of loud laughter spilled from his lungs and jumped excitedly from his tongue, filling the room once more in a high pitched tune.

He couldn’t really help the squeal and trashing when Wanyin made sure to whisper the teasing growl next to his ear, again, voice still breathless from all their kissing. “You really thought that that would work, huh? That it would be so easy to distract me? Just a few pecks, then I would forget everything and you would be free to go and be a teasing bastard all over again.” He chuckled and rested his mouth on the base of his neck, every word rumbling and tickling. “I told you before, didn’t I? You will be at my mercy until you have no more breath left to provoke me ever again. I never go back on my word.”

And then he promptly began delivering a giant, unending raspberry on his neck.

Lan Xichen laughed and laughed and laughed for some more minutes until there were tears prickling the corner of his eyes and hiccups began ringing together with his giggles.

The very moment those appeared, though, the playful hands immediately stopped their playful assault to massage and rub softly until the leftover tingles disappeared. The raspberries metamorphosed to pecks and kisses all over his face that got him melting on the spot in no more than a couple of seconds, shoulders still lightly bouncing with the ligering tittering that followed them.

Silence stretched across them like dogs and bunnies usually do, on their lazy days.

“Jiang Cheng.” 

“Hm?”

Lan Xichen waited until those gray eyes were on him and let his smile shine unashamedly. His lover huffed, fond.

“Should this one give you the report now, Sandu Shengshou?”

“Oh, shut up.”

The sect leader Lan chuckled.

That was the only warning Jiang Cheng had before, in an elegant flash of white, he found his entire world spinning until his back hit the mattress and his hands were firmly held above his head. A weight settled on his thighs, pinning him on the spot. Those brown, crinkling eyes were now just inches from his face.

He tried to squirm and pull his arms down, but the grip was as moving as the mountains that surrounded the Cloud Recesses.

“Since my report won’t be necessary, maybe I can explore other… techniques to show you my observations and feelings?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened with understanding. He tried harder to free his arms to at least have a lieu of a shield to protect his currently defenseless tickle spots. His mouth was already betraying him, his lips wobbly turning upwards.

Lan Xichen kept watching him, serene, no hurry at all. 

“They do say that there is no stronger way to bond than to share similar experiences and I would be happy to assist in yours .”

“Lan Huan! Don’t! Do not dare!”

He trashed and buckled, squashing as much as he could the already bubbling titters filling his chest, the kind face above him seeing right through his frown - in the way that he called Lan Xichen by his birth name, how the Zidian didn’t crackle or activate like it did when his master was in danger, in the softness still lingering on him, the excited glint in his gaze, in the very same way that they already had this song and dance plenty of times before - and so effortlessly continued to pin him on the mattress, winking before starting to lower his face, bit by bit.

“Lan Huan, I’m warning you! I will-”

“I love your smile.” The sentence was calm and playful, but Jiang Cheng’s voice still got caught in his throat, frozen. Both because of his words and the tiny, careful and light nibble that hit the ticklish back of his ear, barely pecking the skin over and over again. “I love how beautiful and cute it is, when it’s tiny or big,” Another nibble. “When it’s soft or determined.” Another one. “When you’re aware of it or not.” Another. Another. Another.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Amidst his demand Jiang Cheng let out an uncharacteristic snort.

An answering chuckle rang like a bell and set his cheeks ablaze, stretching his grin wider as he turned his face to press it firmly on his shoulder. The other’s breath made him lift his shoulder in an attempt of defense, only for the ministrations to change to his other ear, more praises and loving teases pouring like rain and making him feel more and more silly, tickly, shy.

(Loved). 

He endured exactly three more compliments (he had to put a stop when Lan Xichen started to point out how he went out of the way to take care and make little nice gestures that should go unnoticed because they’re not a big deal at all!) before snapping, again, with no heat.

“Why don’t you stop saying nonsense,” he tried squirming and scrunching his neck, but the other only hummed dangerously in warning, making tingles and tickly shocks spread like flames on his nerves. He attempted to control the snicker painting his words, unsuccessfully. “And put your mouth to good use?”

“So demanding…”

Still, Lan Xichen acquiesced and took a deep breath. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, preparing for the killer raspberry that would come and finally put him out of his suffering.

Only for a continued, light gush of air hit his skin, pulling those low, anticipatory giggles from him.

“Soon, Wanyin. First, I must tell you all the endearing, lovely things about you that keep making me swoon and fall in love all over again while I watch this blush take over your beautiful, adorable face. Then, after I’m done, you're going to tell me all of your favorite spots for the day and I will tickle every single one of them, maybe using that delightful technique you just spent so long teaching me all about today, maybe testing how loud and carefree I can make you sound. What do you think?"

Lan Xichen yelped and jolted away when harmless sparks hit both of his hands, making them tingle and automatically let go of the other, which was enough for him to dislodge the Lan from his spot with a hard buckle, throwing him back on the mattress and quickly turning around to run away from the bed.

Before he succeeded, however, Lan Huan jumped and locked his hand on his wrist, maintaining his grip even when Jiang Cheng twisted it left and right and pulling him closer and making the one in purple robes lose his footing.

He then quickly adjusted himself on the bed so the other would fall right on his side and Lan Xichen could quickly finish this game of cat and mouse. 

However, Jiang Cheng used the impulse to turn around and barrel him on the mattress, limbs getting entangled as both of them get lost in giggles, playful growls and some non heated pushing and pulling each other around.

It took a few minutes until he finally had the opening he was waiting for. Brown eyes shone when Jiang Cheng got distracted, too proud of managing to get on top of him during the brawl. With a fast swipe, one of his hands captured the other’s wrist and pulled upwards. His legs did a quick word in locking themselves around the other’s one pair. Unbalanced, Jiang Cheng fell on his chest with a shout and his free hand held his waist close, body rolling and putting Lan Xichen right on top, again. 

Hair fell on his face in a mess of untamed strands as his erratic breath matched Wanyin’s, smiles shining bright. He could feel the way that his ribbon was crooked on his forehead and his usual pristine robes got wrinkles. None of those details went unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who smirked at him with a sharp smugness, even if his general state was just as bad.

Lan Xichen almost kissed him again.

Instead, though, he took a deep breath, reigning the joyful smile in his face and the childish snickers playing in his throat. 

When he opened his eyes, there was now a honed resolutioness on them, his smile became a smirk and his face got closer to the other. 

"Do that again and I will have to put my sect’s ribbon and spells to a good use.” As always, his voice rang light and sweet, but with an undertone of something low and dangerous that made the very own Sandu Shengshou shiver. “Alright?”

It was not a question.

Lan Xichen nuzzled his neck sweetly. “Thank you for expanding my collection even more with all your wonderful reactions.” 

Oh, gods, Jiang Cheng realized with wide, excited eyes. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

“Shall we begin?”

[~*~]

Random Thoughts:

Jiang Cheng, watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan: urg, look at them, so head over the heels for each other, absolutely shameless, no respect at all for anyone who is near. It’s like they have no sense of self preservation at all

Lan Xichen: a

Jiang Cheng: Oh my goddd it’s Lan Xichen hi hi hiiiii <3 <3 :3 <3

~~

Jiang Cheng to me is just aaaaa! The fact that he hates Wei Wuxian and keeps guarding his flute even after 13 years. The way that he follows Jin Ling in his every night hunt. How he was the only one to not chase Wei Wuxian when his identy was revealed. He handing Jin Ling the Zidian just like his mother did to him

I keep thinking about a continuation where, while they're still starting to get closer, Wei Wuxian start having more tickle fights in front of Jiang Cheng - both attacking Lan Yuan, Lan Jingyi or his own husband - until he finally has enough of him looking so gloom and doom everytime he does so and decides to take the matter into his own hands <3

Look, I'm going to be honest, I just need more of everyone in mdzs laughing, playing and being silly, okay? I need more of that happiness and if for that I need to write my own content and spend hours daydreaming about them in cute tickle scenarios so be it <3 <3 peace and love on planet earth

Maybe I will write something with the juniors in the future? Add some pure, playful and joyful fluff in the story. They are just way too precious and def deserve some more laughing in their lives. And Wei Wuxian just have such perfect, amazing tickle monster vibes iugtfrdefrgyu

Also, enjoy this amazing video of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen that I can't stop thinking about.

[widevibratobitch]

ive been neck deep in fitzconte the last few days and it's amazing the things people can do with a character who has 4 minutes of screentime, says like three lines in total and also never actually directly interacts with the character the fandom decided is their bestie their pal their sweet cheese their good-time boy. and lover.

the cheetah is a homoerotic allegory yes yes we know.

[kaymarie-bell]

One of my favourite running jokes in the fandom is "Deuce and Silver find out they have a single parent each and decide to arrange a date for them" and I think it would be so funny if the White Rabbit Festival event ended up being like that.

Like, Silver already thinks that Deuce would be a nice little brother to have specifically because he adores his mother the same way Silver loves his dad. They work well as siblings because they both value family a lot and are generally easy to get along with.

Shipping Lilia x Mama Spade exclusively because of the wholesome vibes all of them would have as a family lmao.