#i wonder if that would have been enough to push jgy over the edge

[labyrynth]

let’s be real for a sec: if rusong were still alive, nhs wouldn’t have hesitated in killing him

[hannigramislife]

#5 Scene from my Random Mdzs Fanfiction

Prompt: What if 3zun reincarnated in modern au?

Scene: Frustrated with Lxc for warming up to Jgy in this life, and angry at himself for feeling upset at them in the first place, Nmj picks a fight. Does not go well.

"Why are you so mad?" Lan Xichen was confused at his friend's attitude.

"I'm not mad," Nie Mingjue gritted his teeth. "Leave it alone."

"No, let's talk about it." Lan Xichen insisted. "I don't want you to bottle anything up. Tell me."

"What do you care?" Nie Mingjue snapped back.

Lan Xichen blinked, genuinely shocked. "Why wouldn't I care?"

"One would think you're used to it." Nie Mingjue said bitterly, and he hated it. He didn't want to be angry at Lan Xichen, he didn't want to raise his voice either, but he couldn't help it.

Lan Xichen froze. "Da-ge...say what you mean. Used to– what, not...not caring?" He was confused, having never had Nie Mingjue talk to him so harshly. Even in their past lives, the elder had always been gentle with Lan Xichen, as if his mere presence softened his edges.

Nie Mingjue's gaze was scathing. "You did just fine last time, didn't you?"

Lan Xichen was speechless, which spurned the other on.

"It didn't take much for you to get over my death. As long as you had Jin Guangyao by your side, you were fine, right? So I think you'll survive me keeping my distance just as fine."

Nie Minjgjue could have slapped him, struck him with his heavy hand that has broken countless bones without breaking a sweat, and it would have hurt less than his accusation.

"Fine," Lan Xichen repeated, voice wavering, his family teachings the only thing holding his composure together. "You think I was fine? You think you died and I didn't care?"

"It sure as hell seemed that way!" Nie Mingjue snapped back. "Didn't seem like you were that eager to help me rest in peace either."

"I thought you were at peace!" Lan Xichen defended himself. "You- We always knew there was a chance you'd die young. I thought you'd made your peace with that. I-I didn't know. I didn't think-

That appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as Nie Mingjue just grew angrier. "God, you really were so blind, weren't you? The most capable cultivator of the time, letting a murder happen right under his nose, basically handing Jin Guangyao a step-by-step tutorial on how to get rid of me."

Lan Xichen's heart shuddered in his chest, shame and guilt churning up his insides. No, not this- not this again.

Those thoughts had managed to haunt him across lifetimes, apparently. Nothing hurt Lan Xichen more than thinking about his naivety, his gullible nature, and how much it had cost his friend. How could he have been so accepting of Nie Mingjue's death? He didn't even think of foul play being a possibility, not even from the man who had reason to want Nie Mingjue dead.

Nie Mingjue took his silence for hesitation, and hated it.

"Did you really never doubt him despite my warnings?" He asked. "Or did you just want to keep him so badly you could have forgiven my murder?"

Lan Xichen wondered, in the back of his mind, how A-Yao had been able to shoulder Nie Mingjue’s anger for as long as he had; surely, it had similarly crushed him, to hear such hurtful words from your closest friend? Vicious words falling from the other half of your soul, dipped in poison? Is that how his love had turned into hatred strong enough to push Jin Guangyao into taking his life?

Did Nie Mingjue feel similarly about Lan Xichen? Was his crime of association so grave that Nie Mingjue resented him?

Privately, the self-destructive part of his brain thought he did. He must have. It was Lan Xichen's carelessness that led to his death. His actions that resulted in his qi-deviation. And it was because of his foolish heart that Nie Huaisang - gentle, carefree Huaisang, who was never interested in anything other than arts and poetry and life itself - had to discard everything in order to avenge his brother.

And Lan Xichen? Where was he, then?

Holding his sworn brother's murderer in his arms. Comforting him, telling him everything was okay, they had each other, they would be fine.

And who was there for Nie Mingjue? For his little brother, who had to play at adoring the man who took his da-ge from him?

Lan Xichen felt sick.

Nie Mingjue stared at him as Lan Xichen wiped the overflowing tears from his face. He felt uncomfortable, not knowing how to help Lan Xichen, how to make him feel better, how to keep his fiery anger down. That had never been his forte; that was what Jin Guangyao was for. It was in Guangyao that could always put an end to Lan Xichen’s unceasing worry, who could reign in Nie Mingjue’s temper, even when he was smack in the middle of it.

It had worked, for a while, the three of them. Lan Xichen had wanted them to be happy.

It could have never lasted.

“I wish,” Nie Mingjue said slowly. “That I had done it, back in Nightless City.”

“Done what?” Lan Xichen asked, almost automatically, his eyes downcast.

“Killed him,” the elder said, making Lan Xichen freeze. “Then myself, too. So many lives could have been spared. You would have mourned him, but found love again. At least, then, maybe you could have been happy.” Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao had been each other’s doom; there was no version of their story where they ended up happy. At the very least, they could have chosen not to drag Lan Xichen down with them.

Lan Xichen, if possible, looked even more devastated.

“How can you say that to me?” Lan Xichen whispered, thoroughly broken-hearted. “How can you tell me I would have been happy without the two of you? How can you say I wouldn’t have mourned your death until my eyes bled salt?”

“Lan Xichen-“

But Lan Xichen wasn’t listening, his wide eyes welled up with tears and hands trembling as he fell to his knees. “Have I failed you so much, Da-ge? Was my love so weak, so useless you can’t even see what you both meant to me?” Lan Xichen allowed himself to sob, a familiar and soothing voice in his mind reminding him it was okay to cry. “Forgive this one, Da-ge, please, for his stupidity, for his weak heart. You deserved better.”

[guqin-and-flute]

ok but if jiang cheng gives jin guangyao a jiang sect clarity bell he's going to be so confused and shocked and then probably cry. for days. this family wants him! on purpose! not even as a disciple but as part of the family itself! and they're all accepting him intentionally! and publicly! he's not going to be able to handle that at all.

Anonymous said: Yanli is pregnant, about to give birth and JGY is so anxious and nervous. It's his first kid! He doesn't want to do anything wrong, neither for this child, nor for Yanli, nor for her brothers. He's going crazy. As time went by, the more involved with the affairs of the Jiang sect he became, but now, in the face of the birth of his son, nothing was enough to soothe his nerves. He was genuinely going crazy. So JC, WWX and JGY bonding time!!

(WONDERFUL, anons! I’m putting these two together because it felt right! This is a trip and a half to write because I came into it going ‘this is fluff!’ and JGY came into it going ‘this is torture’. Did you know that having nice things is untenably terrible? Cause I didn’t until I consulted JGY, but this seems to be the case)

[First post/fic of the Peony to Lotus verse. Set after these posts]

Jin Guangyao hated when his thoughts became too much to ignore. It should not happen, he should be able to package this anxiety into a neat little box like every other thing that had ever made his hands shake and get on with his business but here he was, gripping the edge of the window sill tight enough to make his knuckles ache as he simply fought to breathe. 

A-Li was far enough along, now, that she spent most of her time bedridden, radiant and tired and soft and patient and--

Sometimes, he would come to himself realizing he was smiling over something ridiculous Wei Wuxian had said, or the way that A-Li looked in the sun just then, or A-Yuan clinging to his leg and he wouldn’t have meant to and it was so fucking awful. And he had no one to discuss it with, not even A-Li, not even Er-ge because they would have no idea what he was talking about. Because they had had the practice of their whole lives to bear the weight of putting their heart into other people and letting them run around and do what they would with it. Soon, he would have a child. A child. 

He already had a wife, and he had felt the uncomfortable stretch of accommodation in his bones when he had realized, with deep terror, that he actually loved her. Deeper still, somehow, when she had loved him back. Then Wei Wuxian had elbowed his way into His People--when had he gotten people? When had that happened?--then Jiang Wanyin, then Wuxian’s little A-Yuan. Lying in bed next to a gently snoring A-Li, staring at the ceiling above, painted in the slow, light ripples from the lake, he had quietly realized that even Wen Qing and Wen Ning would leave holes within himself he would be able to trace in their outlines, were they taken from Lotus Pier.

It had taken him quietly confessing to Lan Xichen the depth of his anxiety over the pregnancy, his gentle chuckle, his hand on his cheek as he assured him that he would be an excellent father that Gods! Gods, he was one of them, too! One of His, living there already, before he even knew to look. How had he not known? When had he filleted his heart in such a manner and with what knife so sharp that he hadn’t even felt the sting? Was it supposed to be this easy to lose yourself in others? The last time he had been a part of anyone, she had died in his arms on a whorehouse bed, whispering about a man who had never come back to collect his token, his son. Her son. 

Jin Guangyao blew out his breath, rocked from heel to the ball of his foot as if limbering up for exercise, trying to expend the buzz of anxious energy that crawled under his skin, excise the slow panic that had been building these many months. 

Wen Qing had said it was going well. That everything was normal. Back pains and knee pains and trouble sleeping were normal. 

A child.

Pushing away from the sill, he shook his arms out at his sides as he turned away from, then back to the window when the nausea within him bloomed, bid him to grab something, hold something, anchor himself against the current of this emotion. He wrapped his fingers back around it, put his head down and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He was supposed to be meeting Jiang Wanyin in the Hall of Swords. He was going to be late.

There was no reason for this. There were duties to attend to, things he must do, errands he must run. A-Li had said she felt fine. They had a while, yet; weeks. Days. 

Days and he would hold a baby. His baby. Their baby. Made from them, of them, out of them and into the world where it could grow and think and laugh and run and leave and die--

A harsh, clamped down sound left him as he squeezed his eyes tighter, tucked his chin down lower as he rocked back again, stretching back from his arms, feeling the burn down the backs of his legs. Focus on the physicality. Focus on the feeling. Accept the inevitable; what was done was done. 

Bring in a life to the world and you bring in a death. How equitable, how balanced. How insane.

How was he allowed to do this? How could someone like him who had never dreamed of fatherhood past a vague, uninterested ‘perhaps’ of a future just...choose that? How on earth could someone like him be allowed to make another human and be tasked with its health, it’s happiness? What did he know of happiness, having had so precious little of it? 

Well, until now. And there lay the problem. 

For here he was, in a place he thought was exile but was, in fact, a seeming paradise unlike any he had known, full of ease and warmth and love and it was worse than he could ever have possibly imagined because he was used to the struggle it was supposed to have been. Had always been. Was going to have been. His goals had never been about comfort and love but about safety and what was owed to him. He was a Jin, therefore he would be a Jin--he would work to become it at the expense of everything and everyone else because it was the place he belonged. If he could get there, if he could be recognized, it would be Right. Not necessarily good, not necessarily comfortable, but Right. Safe.

And now here he was, miles and miles away at Lotus Pier, amongst Jiangs and Wens, lilypads and lotuses, and he was happy. Not necessarily Right. Not necessarily...Safe, in the most concrete of definitions. The scorch marks at the base of some buildings, the abundance of tablets in the shrine told how nebulous such physical safety might prove to be. The Jins had the money and numbers for that safety. But ask him--ask him, don’t ask him, please--whether he now wanted that or this and his hesitation would betray decades of his life, his promises to his mother, his plans. 

And it was all transient. Able to be taken and broken in the beat of a heart. Lanling was supposed to have been forever. Yunmeng was supposed to have been a setback, a roadblock, a stalling, a breaking, a dying of a dream. How on earth had this hidden in the folds of that? Just burst into being with no intention? How had this happened?

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought of these things throughout A-Li’s pregnancy, hadn’t spent many a night pacing throughout the walkways of Lotus Pier, taking care of this or that at some godsforsaken hour where he would sometimes cross paths with a cheery Wei Wuxian, wiling away the wee hours of the morning on less focused pursuits. But these thoughts had been successfully contained and filed away, not unearthing themselves in the light of day when other obligations required his attention. 

They would grow louder when he saw A-Li’s belly, when he lay his cheek on it in bed and felt the restless life within push back against him, but they were still containable, kept at bay by the sheer joy that lit his wife up whenever she caught him looking at her. She was infectious with it, her excitement to usher in this new person seeming so clean and pure and delightful through her eyes. And he could see it--of course he could--the joy in the idea of a little one who came out loving you, would only ever know loving you, if you did it right--

And that. And that made his stomach churn and his hands clench, made every uncertainty that had ever used his ribs as a ladder to his throat scream in chorus because it was if you did it right. There was no plan to cover everything. No contingency that caught everyone, in all cases. And there were so many ways to fail--in little ways, big ways, catastrophic ways. 

When this tumble of a thought started, it was nearly impossible not to be crushed beneath its roll, the parade of every man he had ever seen in the brothel of his childhood playing across the backs of his eyes, accompanied by the ever present absence and then terribly wounding reality of his own father. How could he not be like them? What treacherous part of his own psyche did he have to avoid so he did not wound this child the ways he had been? Could he? 

Could he only wait, without a plan, without warning, for the time that he would bring harm to his child, whether through action or inaction? He would go insane. He would absolutely lose his mind. 

He felt as if he was already. 

He pushed back from the window again, hard, swung himself around and set off for the Hall of Swords. The sun passed hot on his face through the windows, brief bands of cool striping over when he reached the edge. 

Jiang Wanyin was seated on the lotus throne with Wei Wuxian perched insolently on one of it’s sleek petals, both looking down at something in Jiang Wanyin’s hand. “Hello, Jin-gongzi,” came Wen Ning’s hesitant voice from his side and, wound as tight as he was, Jin Guangyao had to clamp down his startlement and instead offer a smile and nod to the man that moved as quietly as a ghost. 

“Good afternoon, Wen-gongzi. Jiang-zongzhu. Wei-gongzi.”

“Sooo formal,” Wuxian drawled, spinning Chenqing through his fingers with a grin. “Come here, we’ve got something to show you.” Eagerly, he hopped down, then hesitated and turned back to peer at him closely. “You alright?”

Jin Guangyao flashed a smile he knew pressed in his dimples and stuffed down every part of him that shook. “Perfectly.” When he approached, Jiang Wanyin traded a knowing, poorly suppressed smile with both Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning beside him and held out his hand.

In it was a tiny silver bell set on a long purple tassel, the knotwork fine and intricate, hung with a little jade lotus above it. The Jiang Sect’s Clarity Bell. Since it seemed to be what he was intending, Jin Guangyao accepted it with a smile and polite nod as he brought it closer to study, absorbing the engraving of the lotus petals on the metal, the clear chime that rang out when it moved. It was a beautiful little thing and it took him half a moment to realize that this was them seeking his approval for a gift for his child. The spread of his smile became slightly more real and he tilted his head. “Ah. It’s beautiful, Jiang-zongzhu.” A bit long for an infant, he added silently, but they will grow into it, certainly. “Very lovely.”

“Uh...mn,” Jiang Wanyin answered, the way he had started doing when he was unsure of what just happened and when he glanced up, he caught him sharing a befuddled look with Wei Wuxian.

“Wow. I dunno what I was expecting, but not that,” Wei Wuxian laughed, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head as if he were puzzled. 

Jin Guangyao let his placeholder smile emerge, holding the pleasantness in place while his mind whirred, attempting to piece together what had gone wrong. Was he supposed to be more excited? He could certainly do that. “I appreciate it very much,” he elaborated, stroking a finger down the sleek tassels in obvious admiration. “The workmanship is incredibly intricate and lovely. A-Li will be very pleased and I’m sure it will serve our child well.” Perhaps it was supposed to be of bigger consequence--but if that were the case, wouldn’t there have been more ceremony?

Wei Wuxian snickered again, very clearly at him, and even Jiang Wanyin grinned, tilting his brother another one of those infuriating  looks that, at present, was sending irritation skittering down Jin Guangyao’s spine. Usually he had the patience for their antics, but with the background noise of his fear, it was a bit much. 

“Jin-g-gongzi,” Wen Ning spoke up again, the hint of a smile in his voice. “It’s for you.”

Jin Guangyao looked back at him, uncomprehendingly blank. It’s for him. What was for him? The bell? The bell was for the Jiang Sect--

His head jerked back around to stare at it again, his fingers closing like a vice around the smooth flow of the tassels. For him. It was for him. “But….” choked from him without warning, so he snapped his mouth shut and simply...stared.

“Oh-ho, that’s a new one. What does that one mean?” Wei Wuxian leaned down in his peripheral, the indistinct blur of his face cut with the white of his smile.

He could not answer. That burning, trembling fear was bubbling up his stomach, his throat, his spine until it throbbed in his temples and sinuses. 

“--figured it was about time, I mean, considering how long you’ve been here and all--” Wei Wuxian was saying breezily in the background, but Jin Guangyao felt the cold weight of Wen Ning’s gentle hand on his arm like gravity, pulling him back to this room. 

“Jin-gongzi, are you alright?” he asked, softly.

Wei Wuxian stopped at this and the brightly colored forms in the corners of his eyes drew closer, reached out to touch him as well, his shoulder, his arm. “Hey. Hey, Jin-xiong, look at me.”

He did, because it was simple, because it was asked of him and when he did, Wei Wuxian blinked. “Wow. You really didn’t know, did you?”

“We have one for the baby, of course,” Jiang Wanyin added in from his side, as if that was even remotely the problem. “It’s smaller, but….”

They seemed to be waiting for him to say something, which at this moment seemed absurdly impossible. It was for him. For him. Without asking. Without begging. Without having to bow and scrape and kowtow and….

They wanted him. They wanted him. They wanted him. 

He opened his mouth to say something, anything but all that came out was a strangled, shaky, “Ha….” that squeezed shut at the end as his stupid fucking traitorous ill-behaved throat closed and he, all at once, had to crouch down to stop the spinning in his idiot head, burying his face in his knees. There was a hand on his back as he sucked in a shuddering breath, then another on his wrist as someone crouched before him but he couldn’t look up because his eyes were dripping unsanctioned tears onto his purple robes and the clarity bell rang out sweetly with every ridiculous tremor of his hand. 

He didn’t want this. A child. A family. He couldn’t want this because he wanted this and if he wanted something, it would hurt to be taken away, it could tear him, it could kill him. He wasn’t big enough to have this many People huddle inside of his chest. He hadn’t enough heart to go around. 

But they wanted him anyway. Not out of obligation or guilt or political savvy or because he had done something so exceptional it could not be ignored but because they did. Him.

Help.

At least he had always cried quietly. The one blessing in this whole ordeal. If he couldn’t control his damn self, at least he wasn’t wailing like...an infant. A baby. His baby.

Gods, what in the hell was he doing?

“Should we get A-jie?” was muttered and he surged to his feet, startling Wei Wuxian stumbling back a few steps.

“No!” he gasped, allowing his hand to clamp onto Wen Ning’s supportive wrist so he didn’t topple over. “No, no, don’t bother A-Li, I’m fine, I’m--”

“You’re definitely not,” Wuxian interrupted with an incredulous laugh. “Did we break you? Is it bad?”

“Is it bad?” Jiang Wanyin echoed, quieter, more uncertain from his side and Jin Guangyao shook his head, tried desperately to latch back onto his control. 

“No, it’s not. It’s...um….” That stupid quaver spoiled it again as his gaze landed back on the bell, innocent and fine, resting on the backs of his knuckles from where it sprouted through his grip. His face crumpled anew, this time a little softer, at little less wildly transporting, but still fully out of his control and dammit, shit, and fuck. This was stupid. He was stupid. This didn’t need to be happening.

Wen Ning gently patted his back as he covered his face, trying in vain to stifle this absurd, unceasing flow that seemed to come from deep within him as every part of him writhed, knowing he was being seen doing this. Knowing that he could not stop. That this weakness was….

 On purpose? A small, helpless part of him was asking repeatedly. Did you mean to do this? You know everyone will be able to see if I wear this, right? This is on purpose? 

A stupid question. An obvious answer. The reasons for which eluded him. 

“If it upsets you so much, I could take it back for you,” Wei Wuxian teased--obviously teased--while reaching out and in the most terrifying motion he had ever made, Jin Guangyao jerked the bell away from him and pressed it to his middle. He hadn’t even meant to do it. 

He needed to leave.

“No. I’m fine. I...thank you. Thank you for this, I….” He looked over at Jiang Wanyin, saw the alarm and furrowed bemusement in his face and managed to force out, nakedly. “I’m...having a difficult time...absorbing this.”

“Well, that much is clear!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Look, Jiang Cheng! We’ve made him speechless! Took the silver tongue right out of his head and turned it into a bell.”

“Are you...happy?” Jiang Wanyin asked, hesitantly.

Jin Guangyao was not so certain--was happiness supposed to burn like this? Dredge your deepest depths without mercy? But he could not lie and say that that small voice hadn’t now transmuted into simply chanting mine mine mine mine mine. He needed to absorb this. He needed to be away. It was wrong because it was not Right--but when had Right ever made him so warm? Golden. He swallowed and took a deep, shuddering breath, stifling the steady swell of tears with immense difficulty. “I think so.”

“You are so strange,” Wei Wuxian grinned, throwing his arms around him and Wen Ning. “Here, I’ll put it on.”

When he cheerily plucked the bell from Jim Guangyao's frozen grip, Jiang Wanyin shot his brother a scowl. "Don't you think I should be the one to do that?"

"I don't see you shifting yourself to, so it's my job as oldest brother to welcome him in," Wei Wuxian announced. "Deal with it."

It all seemed so wretchedly possible as he knelt down before him and gleefully manhandled his belt around, as Jin Guangyao just...let him, staring down at him in a daze. A life here, raising children--happy children with a happy wife and happy brother-in-law's and happy sect-mates. Happy. Ephemeral.  Delicate. Unprotected.

“There,” Wei Wuxian proclaimed as he rose again, wrapping his arm around his shoulders again and thumping his chest affectionately. “Now you’re officially one of us. It was all Jiang Cheng’s idea, to tell you the truth.”

It was all Jin Guangyao could do to take an iron grip of his throat’s functions, look up at Jiang Wanyin’s nervous smile and ask in a tight, small voice. “You’re sure?”

While his smile turned slightly sour with puzzlement, the Clan Leader gave a huff of amusement. “Of course I’m sure. What kind of question is that?”

“Congratulations, gongzi!” Wen Ning beamed eagerly, bobbing his head. They all looked at him with wide smiles. Now knowing smiles. The knowing that he wanted to hate but couldn’t muster more than a prickle.

When Jin Guangyao bowed, deeply, they scoffed and the tiny bell hung from his belt gave a little chime. Still smiling, they watched him go and he blindly made his way back and back and back to his room. To A-Li. 

She was reading on the bed when he burst in and she blinked up at him. “Oh! Are--” her eyes went to his hand, clutching the slim silk line that connected to his belt, and her worry melted away into beaming excitement. “So they did it? They made me promise not to be there. Here, come here, come here, you.” She held out her arms and he shakingly made his way to the bed and practically collapsed within them, burying his nose into the softness of her as she wrapped around him. 

Here, he was safe. Here, he could ask. “Is this alright?” he whispered, voice choked again. “Is this allowed?”

“Is what, A-Yao?”

He clenched the bell in one hand and laid the other on her stomach, both still trembling as he shook his head, encompassing all of it, everything, anything here.

“Oh, love,” she crooned into his hair, stroked his face. “Of course.”

And here, against her, in the quiet and the safety, he let the tears come again as the pressure threatened to burst him--let himself weep, either in joy or grief, for all the things he now had to lose.

[vespertineflora]

Title: in my arms you’re safe and sound

Rating: Teen Summary:  Jin Guangyao is a dhampir who is fully turned when his father accepts him into the family--but Jin Guangshan treats him terribly, and when Nie Mingjue begins to realize how far this mistreatment goes, he drags Jin Guangyao off for a conversation which quickly escalates into an emotional shouting match that results in Nie Mingjue deciding that Jin Guangyao needs to be removed from Carp Tower immediately. Lan Xichen finds them just in time for the three sworn brothers to head together back to Qinghe, where Lan Xichen personally discovers one of the many awful things Jin Guangshan has done to hurt Jin Guangyao. (2.9k  vampire au!!!, hurt/comfort, blood drinking) I posted this late Sunday night, but wanted to share it here too!  It was inspired by a vampire au in the 3zun discord server, this scene hurt my heart so I needed to write it. In this au, the Lan and Jin sects are vampires and the Nie Sect are werewolves. Though this scene is mostly about lxc and jgy, the au was constructed with 3zun in mind. Their sworn brotherhood also gives them all an empathetic bond that gets mentioned once at the beginning of this.\

~~~

Jin Guangyao was only half-conscious by the time they made it back to the Unclean Realm. Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising—Lan Xichen hadn’t gotten the full rundown of whatever argument Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao had had, but he felt the way Jin Guangyao had been hurting himself through their bond in his effort to prove whatever point he’d been making to Nie Mingjue, and when Lan Xichen had managed to find the two of them, both of their faces streaked with tears, their devastation had been so clear , even before Nie Mingjue had given him any details. After such an emotional exchange, it only made sense that Jin Guangyao would be exhausted.

When Nie Mingjue asserted that Jin Guangyao would not be returning to Lanling, that they were heading directly back to Qinghe, Lan Xichen hadn’t argued. He’d been skeptical of Jin Guangyao’s position in Carp Tower since his father had taken him in, he’d known something wasn’t quite right, he’d just trusted that Jin Guangyao would say something if he needed their help...

Lan Xichen cradled Jin Guangyao’s half-limp form close to his chest as he followed Nie Mingjue through the gates, as Nie Mingjue led him back to his own room, and even though Lan Xichen understood why Jin Guangyao would be tired... something still felt wrong. One glance at Jin Guangyao was enough for Lan Xichen to see the hazy look in his eyes, was enough to notice that his pale skin was too pale, nearly colorless, and Lan Xichen wondered sickly how he hadn’t noticed earlier how wrong the color was. Maybe he’d just gotten so used to the warmth in Jin Guangyao’s cheeks before he’d been turned that the lack of color had just always seemed off but... this degree of pallor was wrong, even for a vampire.

Continue Reading on AO3 or below the cut

Nie Mingjue left them in his room to go make arrangements for their unexpected permanent resident, and Lan Xichen took a seat on the edge of the bed. He let Jin Guangyao settle in his lap because he found himself quite unwilling to let go of him just yet, couldn’t quite bear the idea of lying him down in bed and leaving him alone when Jin Guangyao looked so small and tired, when he clearly still needed him.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen spoke softly, watching Jin Guangyao’s eyes... the sound of his name brought a bit of clarity to them, but not much, and Lan Xichen bit his lip worriedly, dreading the answer to a question he had to force himself to ask. “Are you hungry? How long has it been since you’ve fed?”

Jin Guangyao’s frowned, his brow furrowed in thought - immediately, Lan Xichen felt his stomach churn, hoping that Jin Guangyao was only thinking because he was trying to be exact and he couldn’t remember what time his meal earlier that evening was - and he seemed to struggle with both the mental timeline and the words when he finally tried to speak, “I... I don’t... remember, I... maybe five? Five or six...”

He trailed off, and Lan Xichen prompted, “Five or six hours ago?”

“No,” Jin Guangyao replied, shaking his head vaguely, “D-days. Five or six days.”

Lan Xichen felt his chest tightening as anguish flooded his thoughts. Five or six days? Jin Guangyao was... He’d only been turned a few months ago, he was still young, by every definition still a fledgling. He should be feeding a little every few hours or at least once a day, not once a week. He wasn’t strong enough yet to go so long without eating, no wonder he looked so awful, no wonder he was on the verge of passing out.

“A-Yao, why haven’t you been feeding?” Lan Xichen asked worriedly, reaching up to push a bit of Jin Guangyao’s hair behind his ear just to have some excuse to touch him.

“I could...” Jin Guangyao was clearly struggling, Lan Xichen could see how hard he was fighting to string the words together, when it was obvious his body was on the verge of forcing itself to shut down, to reserve its energy because it was working on so little fuel, “only eat when... when Father allowed me to. Only animals. Only... every few days.”

A surge of rage unlike Lan Xichen had ever experienced burned white hot in his chest, blinding him--for a split second, there was a very real danger of Lan Xichen putting Jin Guangyao down and flying at high speed back to Carp Tower, a moment when the sensation of snapping Jin Guangshan’s neck in his hands would have been the most satisfying feeling in the entire world, but he took a hard breath and forced the feeling away, even as the embers of the fire continued on. Jin Guangshan knew better. The Jin Clan was full of vampires, many of whom had been fledglings at some point or another, there was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to his son. Fledglings needed blood, ideally human blood, and there was no conceivable way that Jin Guangshan hadn’t known that he was starving Jin Guangyao, keeping him purposefully weakened while expecting Jin Guangyao to perform his tasks as well as a vampire who wasn’t still adjusting to his new senses and urges and appetites, and...

Lan Xichen took another shaking breath as he forced the anger away. He couldn’t do anything about it right now, he couldn’t actually kill Jin Guangshan without starting a war, there was no use in reveling in feelings of revenge because he wouldn’t be able to seek it, but... his energy could be useful here and now. The weight of Jin Guangyao in his arms was grounding, pulled him out of his head and forced his mind back to concern, because concern for Jin Guangyao was productive. This was a place that Lan Xichen could help.

“You need to feed , A-Yao,” Lan Xichen said firmly. What Jin Guangyao had been through today would have drained any vampire, much less a fledgling who was being starved. He took a second to adjust Jin Guangyao in his arms, enough so that he could extend his wrist, brushing it gently against Jin Guangyao’s lips. “Here, please, drink.”

Fresh human blood would be best, but Lan Xichen wasn’t sure where they would procure it at this time of night, and Jin Guangyao seemed so close to passing out that Lan Xichen didn’t want to wait for Nie Mingjue’s return in order to figure it out. His own blood was a close second option though, far better than animal blood and endlessly better than letting Jin Guangyao go without.

But Jin Guangyao... turned his head away, looking faintly distressed as he protested blearily, “No, Er-Ge, you don’t... I’m fine, I...”

“You’re not,” Lan Xichen countered, tone gentle, but insistent. “I mean it, you’re very weak right now. I need you to drink for me, okay? Here...”

Jin Guangyao had to be hungry, Lan Xichen was sure of it; even if he could refuse to bite him, Lan Xichen knew he couldn’t resist feeding if he was presented with an open vein. Without a second thought. Lan Xichen raised his wrist to his mouth and dug a tooth into it, suckling a little on the wound to get the blood flowing before he lowered it back to Jin Guangyao’s lips.

As soon as the blood touched them, Jin Guangyao shuddered in his grasp, and he seemed to try to resist the urge for just a second longer before the hunger, the need for survival, took over. Jin Guangyao’s lips parted and his mouth latched onto the wound, suckling at it tentatively, and even that much filled Lan Xichen with relief. He’d gladly let Jin Guangyao gorge himself, Lan Xichen had fed just today and he could safely let Jin Guangyao take what he needed, but any amount that Jin Guangyao drank was better than none.

He nudged his wrist a little more firmly against Jin Guangyao’s lips - while forcing himself not to think about Jin Guangyao’s lips - and clenched his hand into a fist to push the blood from the wound. He... felt Jin Guangyao’s tongue sweep across it as... the expression on his face melted into something new, something more desperate. Lan Xichen heard Jin Guangyao’s breathing catch, watched his eyes squeezing shut as his teeth glanced against the skin, as if fighting against the urge to press down...

“Go on, bite me if you want,” Lan Xichen told him sweetly. It’d feel more natural to Jin Guangyao’s instincts to drink from a wound he’d made himself, it would encourage him to drink more, to drink until the hunger was satisfied, which was exactly what Lan Xichen wanted.

Lan Xichen heard Jin Guangyao take in a shuddering breath, felt the tension in his back and shoulders because of how close he was holding him... before Jin Guangyao finally gave in and sunk his teeth into the wrist.

Jin Guangyao began to suckle at the wound, his tongue making a few more tentative sweeps around the skin--before he seemed to find his taste for it, before the instinct and hunger began to overwhelm any rationale thought that had been holding him back--his teeth pressed down harder, releasing more blood, and he began to drink in earnest as a tremble began working its way down his back.

“That’s right,” Lan Xichen soothed softly, rubbing his free hand over Jin Guangyao’s arm. “I know, I know you’re hungry.”

Lan Xichen had seen his own lean days. During the war there had been no shortage of blood shed--and yet so little of it suitable for drinking. Lan Xichen had gone days, weeks at time without feeding when he’d needed to push himself, and he knew too well what Jin Guangyao was feeling; the ache that seemed to consume your every thought no matter how hard you tried to push it aside and... feeding again, that first drop of blood when you’d gone ages without was... indescribable. It was more than just satisfying a hunger or a thirst, it was like... like consuming life itself. It was like being achingly numb only to have feeling slowly coming back to your limbs, like being burdened with a chronic pain only to suddenly have it lifted. Those periods of starvation were the bleakest of Lan Xichen’s life, he’d had to struggle to remember why he should even bother living when the worst of it hit him, but feeding again almost made him feel like a veil was being lifted, like he was finally allowed to see the beauty in the world for the very first time.

Though Lan Xichen couldn’t read Jin Guangyao’s thoughts, he could feel the way he was shaking almost violently in his arms, as if totally overwhelmed--he could see the tears wetting his eyelashes and could hear the choked little sounds that were almost certainly relieved sobs as the blood filled Jin Guangyao’s mouth and warmed his stomach, renewing him little by little. After just a moment more, Jin Guangyao found the strength to move his arms, and he used it to grab at Lan Xichen’s arm and hold it in place against his mouth, his desperation to keep feeding completely taking control of him.

Lan Xichen would do nothing but encourage it. His hand moved to stroke Jin Guangyao’s hair as he managed to keep himself upright, and he let Jin Guangyao grab onto his wrist as tightly as he needed to to feel safe. “Keep going,” he coaxed, his voice close enough to Jin Guangyao’s ear that he barely needed to do more than whisper it. “You won’t hurt me, A-Yao, I promise. Drink as much as you need.”

Lan Xichen felt Jin Guangyao nod slightly in acknowledgement and he smiled softly from his own relief. He kept his fingers running through Jin Guangyao’s hair, kept focusing on him so that his mind wouldn’t stray to the person responsible for doing this to Jin Guangyao in the first place--eventually, he gave in to his own urges to gently press his face to Jin Guangyao’s hair, telling himself that it was for the best, that letting Jin Guangyao’s scent filled his nose was the most effective way to push any other thoughts from his mind because he knew all too well from their days on the run together that that was the truth.

They sat huddled close together, until Jin Guangyao’s hunger finally tapered off. Slowly, his overwhelmed sobs quieted, and the tense tremors melted away from his back and shoulders. His grip on Lan Xichen’s arm loosened, his suckling grew fainter and fainter, and when he finally retracted his teeth from the skin... he fell, half-limp against Lan Xichen’s chest.

After sparing a single glance at his wrist - Jin Guangyao had licked all the blood free of the skin and it was already starting to stitch itself closed - Lan Xichen turned his focus back on Jin Guangyao, adjusting him in his arms enough to get a look at him--an easy feat, now that the hunger and the accompanying pain were gone. Jin Guangyao was loose, pliant in his arms in a way that was completely different from how the exhaustion had left him. Lan Xichen gently touched Jin Guangyao’s face, and he couldn’t help but find solace in the renewed color of his skin that was now the well-fed shade of a healthy vampire.

Jin Guangyao’s eyes were still closed, but he looked completely relaxed and he was giving off a distinct air of serenity that most certainly hadn’t been there before. He seemed quietly delighted to be in Lan Xichen’s lap now; he curled up against him and his face even turned to nuzzle gently against Lan Xichen’s hand, seeking out reassuring contact in the tipsy sort of way typical of a freshly fed fledgling.

Lan Xichen didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before, why he hadn’t realized that Jin Guangyao wasn’t being treated at all like the fledgling he was back at Carp Tower. Jin Guangyao had been working almost non-stop instead of being allowed time to cope with his new heightened senses, instead of being given comforting people or places to hideaway when he was struck with inevitable bouts of overstimulation. He hadn’t thought twice about it and if Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao hadn’t fought today, if Nie Mingjue hadn’t made the executive decision to immediately extract Jin Guangyao from that awful place that Lan Xichen wasn’t even sure how much longer it would have taken him to realize...

Whether or not Lan Xichen would forgive himself for that was a matter for him to debate at another time. Right here, right now, Jin Guangyao needed attention, and Lan Xichen was the only other vampire in a sect that was otherwise full of werewolves. He was the only one currently in the position to give Jin Guangyao what he needed.

Lan Xichen shifted Jin Guangyao a little bit more, helping him sit up more fully, until Jin Guangyao’s face found its way almost naturally to the side of his neck. He immediately pressed himself to the skin there, nuzzling against it before slumping in a state of total contentment against Lan Xichen’s chest.

As Lan Xichen waited for Nie Mingjue’s return, he gave Jin Guangyao the contact and comfort he needed; he held him close and touched his hair and Jin Guangyao soaked up every bit of the positive attention he’d been starved of for so long, only seeming to grow more and more comfortable against him with each passing moment, his hands eventually clinging lightly to Lan Xichen’s robes.

The sound of the door opening as Nie Mingjue came through it only made Jin Guangyao bury himself more completely against Lan Xichen. As soon as Nie Mingjue's eyes landed on them, he gave Lan Xichen an uncertain look... but Lan Xichen just shook his head. Morning was approaching, and they all needed sleep--and Jin Guangyao especially needed a room where he’d be safe from the sun during the day.

Nie Mingjue said they had a room ready, and Lan Xichen carried Jin Guangyao as he followed Nie Mingjue to the prepared place, though... as he tried to set Jin Guangyao down on the bed, Lan Xichen couldn’t even be surprised at the way Jin Guangyao clung to him, issued a faint whimper in his fledgling desire not to be left alone... and Lan Xichen decided quickly that any conversation he needed to have with Nie Mingjue could wait until nightfall, once they’d all managed to get some rest.

He told Nie Mingjue he’d stay with Jin Guangyao, and then settled down on the bed next to him. As Jin Guangyao cuddled close to his chest, Lan Xichen pushed aside his selfish feelings, and gave Jin Guangyao the closeness that any young vampire wanted and deserved.

There would be important things to discuss later that evening, about Jin Guangshan’s actions, about what the best course of action would be with Jin Guangyao now that they’d rescued him... but those were discussion topics for that evening. For now, Lan Xichen let himself bury his face in Jin Guangyao’s hair (because it was for Jin Guangyao’s sake, wasn’t it?), and drift off with Jin Guangyao into a deep sleep.

[theyilinglaozus]

I think that 60s movie is the one by Roman Polanski? That's basically the thing the musical is based on, but I've yet to watch it. About JZX - the awkwardness is INCREDIBLY relatable, and I agree that he's the best out of the Jin bunch. Like yeah, he may have been arrogant but at least he didn't KILL HIS OWN FATHER and countless others or r*ped anybody. He's just socially awkward and very cute, and he's actually the character I never thought I'd like! -✨

I also have to say that I dislike JGY more than I initially thought. When he was still Meng Yao I found him kind of creepy and never was too fond of him (dimples are never a good sign tbh), then when he killed the other guy my dislike kind of intensified, especially when he tried to talk himself out of it but was obviously and blantantly lying. And post resurrection - I think it's obvious why I hated him even more, isn't it?😂 -✨

The Nightmare Before Christmas is actually one of my favourite movies! I'm sorry if the answer is obvious in your previous answer, but have you watched it? This is Halloween is my #1 spooky song every year, and it always brings back good memories. But back to MDZS, I'm really curious as to what's your opinion on Meng Yao/JGY, it's always very interesting to hear other people's thoughts about him since he seems to be incredibly polarizing, at least that's what I experience. Have a good night! -✨

Jin Zixuan’s only crime is that he didn’t know how to handle his crush / love emotions as a teenager and young adult, and I’m sorry but if we need to take him to fandom!court for the crime of ‘being a hot mess’, then we also need to interrogate Lan Wangji for the same crimes. So what if they sometimes lashed out (... even if it was ... both because of Wei Wuxian’s pestering) They both just! Fell in love so hard that they didn’t know what to do with their sudden feelings! That’s just ... relatable honestly 🤧 

I actually really wonder what Jin Zixuan would have been like as a sect leader had he lived long enough to become one. Because I feel that he’d probably be really good in the position. Like, a calm mediator when matters needed resolving, but with an edge there in him should he need to fight. Plus he would have had Mianmian and Yanli by his side, likely Jiang Cheng and Yunmeng through the tie of brother-in-law and marriage. Maybe even Wei Wuxian, depending on what happened with those he was looking over / if he ever returned to Yunmeng / became part of Gusu Lan through marriage himself / stayed as patriarch of Yiling to any younger or cultivators that went rogue from other clans (especially if after the truth came out about what JZX’s father was doing by torturing them...). Ah, so much we could have had 😔 

Ah, Jin Guangyao. 

His character was ... an adventure for me honestly 😅 At first when he turned up I was a bit like Xichen, in that I felt sorry for him and hated that people kept putting him down for being born of a prostitute. For me it was one of those ‘and what of it?’ moments. That wavered a bit when he murdered the first guy, but I didn’t really expect much at that point? It wasn’t until he came back with his hat that my opinion changed. I remember when he turned up wearing it my first thought was ‘that is a stupid hat. A villain hat. A hat for villains. Oh god he’s a villain isn’t he?’

I absolutely hate how his actions hurt and killed so many characters I liked 😢 Obviously the way everything got turned onto Wei Wuxian since he was the easiest scapegoat at the time is the worst, and I think it was around the time after the fight with the Wen’s that I started disliking Jin Guangyao. I also didn’t like that he killed his own son...

I don’t think I fully hated him though. I have a weird way of finding a sympathetic view in the ‘evil’ characters (I get yelled at all the time for being too sympathetic over characters like Loki and Vader and Sephiroth and I’m like ‘but LOOK’) 😂 I hated his actions, but then I think the beauty of MDZS in general is how there’s so much grey in the world she’s created. I think a lot of his actions are down to a) the shitty father again and b) the society constantly pushing him down for something he had no control over, which of course things like who you were born from were big things historically. So while I think ‘ugh, murder boy did too much murder we did not give you a permit to do that’ I can also see how he likely was slowly cracking over the years.

What I will say though, are thank goodness for the true secret heroes, Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu! (And Mo Xuanyu deserved better than the treatment he got. Let him and Wei Wuxian live so they can be besties! 😭)

... Few! Apparently I have more feelings for the Jin’s than I thought I did!

As for your question on the Nightmare Before Christmas CC, I have watched it! 😊 There’s always a debate in my house of when the perfect time to start watching it is: Halloween or Christmas! I absolutely love it. My favourite song is ‘What’s This?’, it always makes me happy when I hear that one playing, haha! 

Have a lovely evening and weekend CC! 💖

[guqin-and-flute]

How did jgy deal with his migraines when he was at the Unclean Realm? Can nmj recognize when he’s about too have one?

@little-smartass said:  a-fu gets jgy sick when they’re at the unclean realm… he cannot possibly travel… but lxc needs to get back to cloud recesses… “you’ll just have to nurse him back to health da-ge” says huaisang very innocently, who wants them to make up almost as much as lxc

[I’m going to smush these two together because you are both brilliant.]

Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to recognize the signs; actually resents a little that he knows the man so well, still. That he still worries at all about him. 

The visit was doomed from the start, from the moment that Lan Xichen lands with A-Fu in his arms, hands him to Jin Guangyao and their son promptly sneezes directly into his face. It would have been amusing if it had happened to either of his other fathers, but as it was, the familiar cycle begins to creakingly turn again. 

Lan Xichen anxiously eyes Jin Guangyao, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and gently asks how he was feeling. Jin Guangyao smiles and shakes his head and passes it off, as he always has; “I’m fine, Er-ge. It was probably from the altitude change or the cold--nothing says he’s sick.”

Nie Mingjue wants to scoff at his naivete, but holds his counsel. 

A-Fu begins to cough, to complain of a headache, of being cold and tired and, helplessly, they take care of him as best they can with soup and rest and snuggles, knowing what is coming. Jin Guangyao maintains his smile throughout. When Xichen worries if he should even be taking his turn at A-Fu’s bedside when needed, he simply points out that he has very certainly been infected already. “This is our time to be with him,” he reasons, as if he’s being very logical and placating, expression affectionately patient. “I don’t want to waste it worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.” Nie Mingjue wants to shake him for purposefully continuing to push his luck in what could only be called idiocy. 

The adults are having a private dinner in Nie Mingjue’s rooms when Jin Guangyao coughs for the first time and immediately holds up his hands as 2 eagle eyed gazes swivel to him with intensity. “I swallowed wrong,” he insists with that stupid little apologetic smile that means he is hiding something. “I’m fine.”

He is not.

The next few days, Nie Mingjue watches him--out of annoyance more than concern--as he slowly but surely starts displaying all the signs of ignoring his own limitations and continuing to push. His dark circles deepen, his smile wilts at the corners, and, when he thinks no one is looking, it drops off completely and he closes his eyes and just breathes. Every time he coughs, he winces, stops his hand from going to his head. Idiot. Nothing they say can make him listen because they have both tried in the past. He just widens his eyes in that way he does, smiles and finds a way to squirm out of the conversation.  A-Fu trying to run around while still lingeringly ill was as good a distraction as any. He rolls his neck and forgoes meals, claiming he has no appetite. As he always has done when it starts to get bad. 

Idiot.

It was the last day of their visit and Lan Xichen had insisted on spending the night with Jin Guangyao, a fact that Nie Mingjue is trying and, for the most part, succeeding in not being disgruntled about--thought it’s not as if the man couldn’t take a damn nap every once in a while and avoid this whole thing. It’s not as if he doesn’t know how sick he gets. He is incredibly unsurprised when Xichen slips from the room and carefully closes the door behind, lips pressed and brow furrowed. 

“It’s one of his headaches, isn’t it?”

Lan Xichen sighs and nods, running his thumb over Shouyue’s sheath. “It is. Not as bad as it’s been in the past, but bad enough. He admitted he hasn’t been sleeping well, probably because of what he caught from A-Fu and it’s probably triggered it. So, now it’s both.”

Nie Mingjue vents an unimpressed sound through his nose, arms folded and Lan Xichen shoots him a gently reprimanding look. “Da-ge, he’s in pain.”

“And if he had just taken care of himself like an adult, he wouldn’t have to be.”

With another sigh, Xichen tugs one of Nie Mingjue’s braids and moves down the hall away from the door, wordlessly asking him to follow, which he obliges. “Is A-Fu packed up and ready?”

Nie Mingjue nods, reaching out to take Lan Xichen’s hand as they walk, which makes him smile--which was the whole point. “He is. You know he’ll be alright. He always is.”

Xichen grimaces. “He can’t fly today, he hasn’t the strength.”

Nie Mingjue grimaces right back, but tilts his face to the wall so he doesn’t see. He isn’t exactly surprised, but having the prospect confirmed doesn’t make him any happier. “I figured. Well, it’s not as if I’m going to kick him out, he can stay until he recovers. We have plenty of servants.”

As they reach the main hall where A-Fu is playing some intense game that involves Huaisang’s feet and cascades of shrieking cackles, Lan Xichen looks as if he wants to say something but instead shakes his head with a sad smile, then leans in and kisses his cheek. “Behave?” He murmurs into his ear, the warmth of his breath making Nie Mingjue suppress a shiver.

“I’m not going to harass a sick man, Xichen. I’m not that heartless,” he rolls his eyes and leans his temple against his. 

“Mmm,” Lan Xichen hums, setting his chin down on his shoulder briefly. “You’re not heartless at all, A-Jue.”

After Nie Mingjue has gathered the both of them into a hug and pressed kisses to their cheeks and instructed them to fly safe--to which A-Fu had cheerfully reminded him that he had no say in--he reluctantly turns to Huaisang. “Jin Guangyao--”

“Is sick! I know, I heard from a little bird named A-Fu who very much wanted to stay an extra day, apparently,” Huaisang cuts in airly, tapping his closed fan against his lips. “Very distressing.”

“Xichen had a meeting with a Caiyi town official and it couldn’t wait,” Nie Mingjue agrees almost grudgingly. “I was wondering if perhaps you--”

“Oh, I couldn’t, I have sabre practice today!”

Huaisang does a very good job of holding his disbelieving stare, eyes wide and guileless. At least for a little while, after which he begins to waft his fan in distracting little circles, sucking his lips in to keep his smile from spreading across them. “Fine,” Nie Mingjue says, testily. “I’ll ask Zonghui--”

“Oh, he’s the one who is teaching me sabre practice today,” Huaisang blurts hastily, edging sideways for the doorway. 

“Huaisang--”

“Ah! I’m late! Farewell, Da-ge!” he calls as he sidles right out the door, leaning back in only to say, “Tell San-ge that I said hello! Hope he feels better!” This last bit is steadily fainter as his footsteps retreat at speed down the hallway.

Though he feels distinctly annoyed by the incredibly transparent lie, he heaves a sigh and sheathes Baxia in her stand by his throne before backtracking through the hallways to Jin Guangyao’s room. It’s probably more decorous for him to not pawn off a host's duties onto someone else, anyhow. And, he has to grudgingly admit, Jin Guangyao is Xichen’s other partner and A-Fu’s other father. And he already knows how to care for such episodes from when he was still Meng Yao, still his vice-general. 

His jaw clenches at the memory, grinding his teeth, but he gathers what he needs all the same.

Jin Guangyao stirs groggily at the sound of the door, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Er-ge...I’m….” his voice his small and hoarse and for all that Nie Mingjue does not like him, is annoyed by his inability to take care of himself, and wants to not pity him, he does have to admit--he sounds absolutely wretched. 

He remembers a time when Jin Guangyao had curled into the corner of Nie Mingjue’s bed, years ago, crying silently with the pillow over his head as the Clan Leader hovered anxiously, not knowing what would help and what would hurt. Nie Mingjue grimaces and pushes it away. 

At least he knows, now.

“It’s me.” He is sure to pitch his voice low and quiet. “Xichen left.”

Jin Guangyao gives a weak start, his eyes blinking open and then squeezing back shut in obvious pain, his mouth pressing thin. Gods, he’s pale, from his hairline to his lips. Nie Mingjue had forgotten exactly how pitiful he could look when he was sick. At least this was one of the only times he can be sure he is seeing the truth from the man--no one as obsessed with control and saving face as him would ever show such obvious weakness to someone like him.

“Oh. Da-ge...you needn’t…”

Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes because he cannot scoff and quietly makes his way to the bedside, setting down his armful of supplies on the nearby table. “Hush. Talking makes it worse.”

Jin Guangyao makes a vague, thin sound that might have been agreement and falls silent, eyes slitting open again to watch him arrange things briskly, blinking slowly. This close, his breathing is wet and shallow, his pale lips dry and Nie Mingjue fights the urge to strangle him. He wants to reprimand him, to demand what he thinks ignoring illness would do but this, if he thinks that A-Fu would enjoy his father becoming seriously ill because he wanted to stay up and play pretend with him, whether he thinks at all about how this sort of thing affected the people close to him, but he bites his tongue and thrusts out a cup. “Drink. It’s water.”

Watching him slowly attempt to struggle upright snaps the last little bit of patience and he leans in and, keeping his touch light, carefully sits him up and leans him against Nie Mingjue’s side. He is searingly hot through the single layer of underrobe he wears and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Da-ge….” grinds out of him, worryingly slurred and Nie Mingjue holds the cup to his lips. 

“Drink,” he commands quietly, again. 

Jin Guangyao does. It is quiet and dark and close and Nie Mingjue is focusing on the far wall so he can pretend that Jin Guangyao isn’t tucked against his side, his heartbeat thrumming through his back like one of Huaisang’s birds against his bicep. Until he begins to cough. Nie Mingjue knows it’s bad the moment it begins. The coughs are like what A-Fu had, but worse, deep and wracking and, from the way the hand that’s not covering his mouth goes up to clutch his head, make the pain all that much more splitting. Nie Mingjue doesn’t move, doesn’t hold him--though he almost feels like he should from the way it feels like he’s shaking apart beside him. He knows that every touch is magnified, every sensation translated to discomfort at best, pain at worst. 

It ends with Jin Guangyao stifling gagging, fingers digging into the bed covers, doubled over, before they peter out on panting breaths that huff out on an involuntary half-whine. Nie Mingjue takes in a breath to speak and Jin Guangyao winces at just that--so he doesn’t. He merely carefully sets the cup down and taps his fingers against the pillow. Slowly, Jin Guangyao leans back until he’s sunk back into it, hair spread like inky, tangled clouds across it, his even paler face now shining with sweat--and tears. 

Without speaking, Nie Mingjue carefully lays one of the soft cloths over his eyes then wets another in the cool water from the pitcher, slowly wiping down his face and neck. His lips are pursed the entire time and his intent is to glare down at the idiot in his guest bed to convey just how avoidable this whole thing was, but he feels that the effect is a little muted by just how like a corpse he looks, lying there, pale and utterly still. It’s unnerving. If it wasn’t for the fast, labored breaths and his unnaturally hot skin, he would be indistinguishable from one who was freshly dead. 

Then, said-idiot swallows and asks in a ragged whisper, “Fufu...left?”

Nie Mingjue nods, murmurs, “A while ago. Xichen worried he would be too loud for you.”

The hand that lies on his chest curled, as if it wants to tighten into a fist but hasn’t the energy and he whispers, “Ah.”

“This was enormously fucking stupid of you,” Nie Mingjue points out grumpily, unable to help himself.

Jin Guangyao is silent for long enough as Nie Mingjue loosens his robe enough to wipe down his whole chest, carefully tugs his damp hair free from behind his neck that he thinks he has fallen asleep, but as he slips the cloth back into the bucket and rises to leave, Jin Guangyao twitches. “Thank….”

“Hush. Drink more water when you wake up.”