#or the one where he's holding jiang chengs hand as he sleeps after finding out about what happened to his core | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gloriousmonsters · 3 years

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comprehensive list of every MDZS character that has made a ‘are we in a relationship/is this gay??’ post in an au where everything is the same except reddit exists and people use modern terminology when it’s funny

obviously, wei wuxian. ‘i’ve been playing gay chicken with this guy and sleeping in the same bed as him and he’s really quiet but he hasn’t been telling me to quit it like he used to and also he looks at me strangely sometimes and buys me drinks and we actually wound up having sex the other night--’ responses tend: ‘you’ve had sex how many times? yeah, that’s not technically a bromance’

lan xichen makes one while on the road with meng yao, lovingly detailing how they’ve been doing chores together and meng yao thoughtlessly called him a ‘good boy’ while doing laundry and it made him blush really hard, omg, and he wants to believe something might be there but meng yao is just so smart and talented and the situation’s difficult so he doesn’t want to presume even though meng yao keeps touching his hands while teaching him to mend clothes and seems to have a special smile just for him, etc etc. responses: people going ‘op just go for it’ and a bunch of people just calling him a sub

xiao xingchen and song lan make posts at the same time about their amazing friend that they share a common dream with and we kind of casually hold hands sometimes and call each other endearments but like, platonically? i think? reponses: ‘oh my fucking god *posts screenshot of the other one’s post*’. they wind up having a good laugh over it and making an update post about how they’re together now

years later xiao xingchen makes a post about how he’s been cohabiting with this guy who keeps on making jokes to make him laugh and teasing him by calling them ‘married’ and like, they are living together and sort of raising a teenager, well mostly she’s raising herself, but anyway - he thinks he’s getting signals but he’s had some trouble with relationships ending messily before, and he doesn’t want to presume something and make his friend uncomfortable, what they have is so precious... responses: a-qing’s burner account saying the guy is sus, don’t go for it. xue yang’s burner saying ‘he’s 100% into you. jump his bones’

jin guangyao makes a post asking ‘if a guy you really like and sort of had a summer romance with asks you to be sworn brothers, but like... also sworn brothers with your ex, what does it mean?’ and deletes the post after accumulating a bunch of responses demanding more info

jiang cheng demands to know that if you’re best friends with someone and they’re sort of your adopted brother but definitely your sect brother and they PROMISED with their OWN MOUTH to stay by your side and then they dump you to go off and cohabit with ANOTHER MAN and a bunch of refugees but that bit’s not important, that’s like, a breach of contract, right? because you’re in a relationship, right? responses: a number of people directing him to r/AITA. ‘op is this even a romantic relationship or is it a bro thing’ jc replies saying IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS and deletes, but not before screenshots are everywhere

xue yang makes a post about how he was like, sort of faking being into this guy for lulz but now he’s kind of caught feelings and the flirting-to-make-the-other-guy-uncomfortable has escalated to morning kisses and the dude keeps leaving candy on his pillow and like... do you guys think he’s just playing along with the joke, or is it serious? responses: ‘oh my fucking god op’ ‘yeah you’re dating. you’re like 75% married’ and a-qing’s burner account telling him he’s reading too much into it

su she makes a post detailing how he’s had a crush on his boss who’s also his friend for a while and so he doesn’t want to let his hopes make him assume anything but his boss is extremely touchy-feely with him sometimes and asks him to work late alone together on... projects, it’s not important what, and maybe he gets playfully called a ‘work boyfriend’ a lot and his boss goes out of his way to compliment him sometimes, etc... Multiple responses point out he’s listed like 80 kinds of HR violations. su she replies it doesn’t matter. responses assert that yeah, it kind of does, also did you mention your boss already has a boyfriend? red flag op. sms gets pissed at nobody addressing his actual question and deletes the post

jin guangyao makes a post asking how many times you have to ‘jokingly’ call someone your boyfriend and spend late nights working on projects while finding excuses to touch before you acknowledge maybe something is going on. he gets a few OH MY GOD IT’S YOU... MR HR VIOLATIONS responses before swiftly deleting

wen ning has attempted to write a post several times throughout his life and undeath and always chickened out and deleted what he wrote at the last moment. he finally just makes a post about regrets and wishing you’d asked things outright and shared your feelings on r/offmychest or something. it’s very moving and gets shared a lot. wwx absolutely sees it and comments ‘man the dude in this story must be an asshole to not realize op’s feelings’ with 0 self awareness. for my own happiness this absolutely is the start to an endgame ningxian postcanon au

lan wangji makes an account post guanyin temple to ask ‘if a man tells me ‘I like you, I love you, I whatever you, I want to fuck you every day’, does that mean we’re in a relationship?’ he ignores every response except the first person to just say ‘yep’, replies ‘thank you’ to that person and then never returns to xianxia reddit

#shitposting of the highest order #uhhh...#wangxian #xuexiao #chengxian sort of #xiyao #suyao #ningxian #songxiao

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spite in Misery - ao3

(rather silly AU of Delight in Misery, only even more petty and passive aggressive, and also slightly more JC/LWJ)

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“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asked.

“Sanctuary,” Lan Wangji said, prim and proper as he always was, the perfect untouchable iceberg as always, except maybe for the small child he was holding. “For me and my son.”

“Wait, you fuck?”

Wait, that wasn’t the right question.

“Why do you need sanctuary here?” Jiang Cheng asked, utterly bemused. “There isn’t a single place in the cultivation world you wouldn’t be welcomed –”

Except here.

“– and anyway, your brother, his sworn brothers, and your sect would demolish anyone who even thought about hurting you. Who in the world could you need sanctuary from?”

“My brother,” Lan Wangji said. “His sworn brothers, and my sect.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him.

Lan Wangji stared right back at him.

And then he collapsed.

“No,” Jiang Cheng said to the unconscious or possibly dead body currently lying across the threshold of the Lotus Pier and the small feverish-looking child in barely better state splayed out beside it. “I refuse to take responsibility for this!”

“You will not say anything about the room I have chosen to house you in,” Jiang Cheng said. “You will not complain about the food, the amenities, or make any requests whatsoever. Do you hear me?”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

Jiang Cheng ought to have expected as much.

“And don’t think this means I’m going to like you or anything,” Jiang Cheng added self-righteously.

“I despise you with every drop of blood in my body,” Lan Wangji said.

“…so noted,” Jiang Cheng said.

After a moment, he added, “I don’t care!” and stormed out.

After yet another moment, he came right back into the room where he’d put Lan Wangji – it was just a convenient room, not specifically Wei Wuxian’s room, and if putting Lan Wangji in there meant he could delay having to clean out all the personal possessions left in there and actually repurpose it, that was his business and no one else’s – and said, “Why do you hate me, exactly?”

“Do you care?” Lan Wangji asked. He was examining the small cot Jiang Cheng had set up to put the still-unconscious and therefore nameless child on.

“Obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “Or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

Jiang Cheng waited a few moments, moments that grew longer and longer, and finally he realized – “You’re not planning on telling me?”

“I despise you,” Lan Wangji reminded him.

“Oh, you – you…!” Jiang Cheng ground his teeth together. “I’m the one giving you sanctuary, remember?”

“I came to you because you were the only one powerful enough to accomplish the task and spiteful enough to do it. I did not come here to owe you any favors.”

“Well, you’re going to owe me one anyway,” Jiang Cheng said, scowling at him. “You – you – ugh. Forget it!”

He stormed back out.

And then he realized he hadn’t actually brought the medicine that he’d intended to bring to Lan Wangji, so he had to go in and drop it off, but then he was finally able to storm away properly.

“I was under the belief we had agreed it would be best for us to see each other as little as possible,” Lan Wangji said, his voice even icier than usual – which was saying something.

“That’s right,” Jiang Cheng agreed, eying him warily. “I’m only here personally to drop off your medicine because it means fewer people know that you’re here.”

He’d thought that he would need to bring in a doctor for Lan Wangji’s injuries, but it turned out to be whip marks from a discipline whip and Jiang Cheng – well. Jiang Cheng knew everything there was to know about injuries like that.

Sure, he’d had to take A-Yuan to a doctor, he didn’t know shit about pediatric illnesses, but that was fine, it didn’t give the whole game away. Jiang Cheng was able to pass him off as some random sad orphan he’d taken pity on, which wasn’t far from what he suspected to be the truth.

“In that case,” and Lan Wangji’s voice was even colder, which how, “why do you live next door?”

“This was the only room available,” Jiang Cheng lied.

Lan Wangji glared death at him.

“Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m giving you sanctuary, aren’t I?” Jiang Cheng scowled. “Anyway, I told you that you weren’t allowed to complain about the room.”

Lan Wangji did not appear impressed.

“How’d you know I was next door, anyway?”

“You have nightmares.”

…right.

“I’ll invest in better soundproofing, then,” Jiang Cheng said haughtily. He wasn’t ashamed of having nightmares. After the life he’d lived, it was only to be expected.

“I don’t want to be around you at all,” Lan Wangji clarified.

“Too bad.”

“I don’t want you spending time with A-Yuan.”

Oh, so that was the real issue here. Well, in that case, the answer was still – “Too bad.”

“He’s my son.”

“He’s in my house,” Jiang Cheng said. “In my sect, in my lands, in my part of the cultivation world, which is the only reason you came here rather than literally anywhere else, remember? Because I’m a territorial bastard with a paranoid streak that won’t let anyone come look for you in here without hovering over their backs like a shadow, making it impossible for them to actually find you – sound familiar?”

Lan Wangji’s face twitched. “I did not say that.”

“You thought it,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji’s silence proved he was right. “Anyway, I don’t care if you don’t like me spending time with A-Yuan. He’s one of the only people who can make Jin Ling laugh.”

“He wants to be his big brother,” Lan Wangji said. He sounded like he had swallowed glass.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng said, not understanding. “Good for him?”

Brothers didn’t have to be biological, he thought, and that old pain tore through his heart the way it always did when he thought about Wei Wuxian.

“Worthless,” Lan Wangji said, glaring at him, and Jiang Cheng almost agreed with that assessment of himself – thoughts of Wei Wuxian usually had that effect – except of course it was Lan Wangji saying it, so naturally he had to disagree.

It was oddly reaffirming, actually. He might beat himself up as being worthless, useless and pathetic, a broken shell of a man who couldn’t keep a single member of his family alive, who had nothing and lived for nothing and existed purely for the sake of his sect and Jin Ling –

But the second Lan Wangji said that he was worthless, Lan Wangji who was wrong about everything, Jiang Cheng was immediately convinced that he was the best thing that had ever been invented.

Wait, was this how Wei Wuxian used to feel all the time?

No wonder he was always tormenting Lan Wangji.

“I brought you some books on physical rehabilitation,” Jiang Cheng announced. “No, don’t thank me - the sooner you’re better, the sooner you can leave.”

“It will not be too soon,” Lan Wangji said.

Personally, Jiang Cheng didn’t think Lan Wangji was going to be leaving for at least another year, maybe a few more years, not with that many strikes of the discipline whip to heal and his disordered qi to straighten out, but it was nice for both of them to see a destination at the end of the road in which they didn’t have to see each other all the time. Either way, he agreed, so he wasn’t going to ruin the rare moment of complete harmony by being persnickety.

“You should knock before entering,” Lan Wangji added, prissy as always.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He probably should have, yes, but he always had the ‘it’s my house’ thing to fall back on. This was the Lotus Pier where the rules of the Lan sect didn’t apply, and as far as he was concerned, that was reason enough to ignore etiquette. Anyway, Lan Wangji was here alone and healing just the way he’d been doing the past few months, what exactly was he going to be doing that Jiang Cheng might walk in on –

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said when Lan Wangji attempted, with dignity, to extract his hands from inside his clothing, which was unfortunately not something he could do subtly. “Were you trying to jerk off?”

Lan Wangji looked mutinous.

“…were you failing to jerk off?”

Lan Wangji now looked like he wanted to rip Jiang Cheng limb from limb, even though it ought to have been clear enough that Jiang Cheng would only think to ask the question because he’d had a similar issue for a while there. The time after his family had died had been brutal, and he couldn’t even use getting off as a shortcut to fall asleep because every time he tried he couldn’t keep it up; it’d been awful. He’d been terrified that he’d broken his own dick somehow, which led to worries that he wouldn’t be able to have kids in the future and thereby fail his parents and ancestors in a brand new and yet unexplored way, which led to even more panic and even less sleeping. It hadn’t been until someone (he suspected Nie Mingjue, bizarrely enough) shoved a medical treatise about trauma reactions under his door that he’d realized it was a fairly normal aftereffect and managed to calm down a little.

Nie Mingjue had also given him so much work to do that Jiang Cheng hadn’t had time to even think about that sort of thing until nearly half a year later, at which point everything was working again and he’d completely forgotten it was even an issue until halfway into the afterglow.

Good man, that Nie Mingjue.

“If it’s a symptom, you need to tell me these things,” Jiang Cheng said, taking far too much wretched enjoyment out of the whole thing. He’d give Lan Wangji the trauma book, of course – he still had it – but he had to get his wins in where he could against the perfect iceberg, cheap shots or no. “As your current attending doctor, I’m responsible for your care –”

“It is unwanted but necessary. It is simply something that I must endure,” Lan Wangji said grimly, and Jiang Cheng raised his eyebrows.

The book had covered that, too, although that hadn’t been his problem, personally.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “You keep getting hard, is that it? And then retraumatizing yourself when you try to jerk off, which means you can’t satisfy the need, which means you can’t solve the getting hard all the time problem, which in turn affects your cultivation and so your healing…yeah, I see the issue. You should probably get someone else to do it for you if you get really desperate.”

“I see no one but you,” Lan Wangji said through gritted teeth.

A problem, Jiang Cheng admitted.

Still mostly Lan Wangji’s problem, though.

“Well,” he said with the smarmiest smirk he could manage, “as your attending doctor –”

Lan Wanjgji threw a book at his head.

“What are you planning on doing once you’re better?” Jiang Cheng wondered.

“Why are you talking to me?” Lan Wangji replied.

“Oh come on,” Jiang Cheng said. “How can you say such a thing after taking advantage of me? I let you into my home –”

“You will not be able to rely upon that fact forever.”

“I will be able to rely on that fact for eternity,” Jiang Cheng disagreed. “I let you into my home, I hid you away from the world – which isn’t actually as easy as I make it look, just so you know! Your brother is practically scouring the earth –”

Lan Wangji looked like he’d bitten into something extremely sour.

“I’m sorry, did you think he was not going to do that? And recruit his sworn brothers to help him?” Jiang Cheng asked. “I thought the whole point of this was – well –”

“It was.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I do not enjoy hearing of it.”

“Listen, if you’re going to decide to torture someone by turning your back on them and disappearing without a word, you should at least have the guts to own it.”

“You speak from experience, I take it.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Did you somehow forget everything that happened back then with Wei Wuxian?”

“…you were the one who turned your back on Wei Ying.”

Jiang Cheng laughed disbelievingly. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he jeered. “Because I was so well-known for my backbone when it came to Wei Wuxian. I definitely was the one to come up with the idea to throw him out of my sect and cut ties, yeah, definitely, that’s completely what happened. I mean, obviously, I always got my way when dealing with him, every time, that’s how it always was between us. He had nothing to do with it.”

Lan Wangji was glaring at him. “Not then,” he said, each word cutting like a sword. “The Nightless City.”

“You mean the time he arrogantly and completely without warning started a fight that got my sister killed and then murdered three thousand people, including some of the very few family members and friends I had left?”

Lan Wangji was silent.

“You do mean that time,” Jiang Cheng said, marveling. “Are you insane? Even if I wanted to, if I took his side then, I’d have had no claim later on to grab him as a prisoner before anyone else did. The Jin would have executed him for sure! And slowly!”

“The Burial Mounds –”

“He imploded in front of my face!” Jiang Cheng shouted. “I had to see – when he – he died! He was – he did – you don’t even know – no, you know what, I’m not talking about this. Not with you of all people; you hated him.”

Lan Wangji’s hands were fists. “I did not.”

“No? You did a good job of acting like you did,” Jiang Cheng sneered. “Always talking about how you wanted to drag him back to Gusu just because it would make you feel better –”

“Better than leaving him.”

“I did what he wanted! And yes, fine, maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I should’ve ignored what he wanted, maybe I should’ve dragged him back to the Lotus Pier and locked him in a little room for the rest of his life the way everyone knows your dad did to your mom – ”

Lan Wangji flinched.

In fairness, Jiang Cheng was exaggerating about everyone knowing. He only knew about it because he’d heard his mother spit it out at his father during one of their nastier fights, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to have known about it, either.

“– but stupid me, I thought he’d be happier being free and alone than stuck with someone he clearly didn’t want to be around him anymore! But what do I know? Maybe I should ask you, you selfish bastard. You’re the one in his position this time, you’re the one who’s doing the turning away – I bet you don’t even know what it’s like to be the one that’s not wanted.”

Lan Wangji stared down at his hands as Jiang Cheng jumped up to his feet, Zidian crackling to life in his hand despite himself, persisting even though he tried to suppress it.

“I’m going to go hunt down some demonic cultivators,” he said, trying in vain to keep his temper even a little bit and knowing it was a lost cause. “And then I’m going to bring them back here and make them scream somewhere you can hear it. You can chew on that with some glass for all I care!”

“You handled that last one well,” Lan Wangji said. It sounded like someone was pulling teeth from his head.

“You’re sick,” Jiang Cheng announced. “I will go get some fever medicine at once. Are you experiencing any other symptoms in addition to hallucinations? Or should I be checking for signs of possession instead?”

Lan Wangji was back to glaring at him.

“I don’t know what drove that sudden spurt of niceness and I don’t care to know,” Jiang Cheng informed him. “I don’t need your approval.”

Lan Wangji ignored him. That was more customary.

Also unfortunate, because Jiang Cheng managed to get less than half a shichen of work done before coming back into Lan Wangji’s room (not Wei Wuxian’s room) and saying, “Okay, what exactly did I do?”

Lan Wangji looked at him sidelong.

“Seriously,” Jiang Cheng said. “What did I do that was so impressive that even you approved of it?”

“The demonic cultivator. The last one.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, thinking about it. “The – stupid one, you mean?”

Lan Wangji stared at him, and then looked at the ceiling, long-suffering. “The one from Yunping.”

“The stupid one,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, and then he was ranting again because he couldn’t seem to stop ranting about it. “I can’t believe the idiot got into demonic cultivation as a way to make money! That’s just – it’s just – if I ever figure out who paid him, I’m going to rearrange their guts with my sword. Lousy rotten opportunistic…!” He coughed, realizing he’d gotten started again when he’d promised Jiang Meimei that he’d stop. It apparently got old after the sixth repetition. “Anyway, what’s so notable about that?”

“You accepted him as an outer disciple of your own sect.”

“Well, yeah. What else was I going to do with him? He’s clearly got some talent for cultivation if he figured out demonic cultivation without dying. It’d be a waste to send him back to be a fisherman or a dockworker or something.”

“You didn’t kill him.”

“I’m not going to kill someone who got into demonic cultivation as a way to raise funds to get medicine for his sick mother,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “The idiot’s on tomb-sweeping duty for the next year to make up for having manipulated corpses the way he did, that’s punishment enough. It’s not at all comparable to the usual sort of amateur demonic cultivator, the ones that summon corpses to torment former lovers or murder business partners or that sort of thing – those are the ones I use as an example to warn everyone else. What’s the big deal?”

Lan Wangji said nothing.

“Fine, keep your secrets. Can you watch Jin Ling today? I have a – uh – important meeting.”

“Another woman that you have no intention of actually marrying?”

“Shut up and mind your own business.”

“No, but seriously,” Jiang Cheng said. “What are you going to do once you’re better?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lan Wangji said, his voice muffled on account of his face being firmly in his hands. “Go away.”

“Listen, we’re still neighbors, we still need to talk. There’s no point in being suddenly shy about it just because you’re still in the acceptance phase of grief in connection with the whole me helping you with getting off business –”

“Never speak of it.”

Jiang Cheng sniggered. He wouldn’t have pegged the Lan sect as having uncontrolled libidos, much less Lan Wangji, but apparently the situation had gotten truly dire. Anyway, really, getting mockery rights was totally worth an arm work-out and having to put up with Lan Wangji, the latter of which he had to do anyway.

“You really are taking advantage of me now, though! My poor virtue –”

Lan Wangji looked at him through his fingers. “You don’t have any virtue.”

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asked, suddenly curious. “I strike you as someone with a lot of experience –”

“I meant morally.”

“Oh. Hey!”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“Not as pathetic as someone who won’t answer a straight question,” Jiang Cheng said. “What’s your plan for after you’re healed? Are you going back to the Lan sect? Or start traveling as a rogue cultivator?”

“Why do you care?” Lan Wangji asked.

“I can care!”

“But you don’t. Not about my affairs.”

Jiang Cheng had to admit this was correct. “Fine,” he said. “I need a name.”

Lan Wangji frowned at him.

“For A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s been a year. The kid’s as healthy as he’s ever going to be, and he’s old enough for me to shove him in with the rest of the younger generation now that we’re starting lessons back up – cultivation, swordsmanship, shooting, etiquette, all the usual. But I can’t register him in the class without a surname, and I need to know if that surname’s going to be Lan or if you plan on changing it to something else.”

Lan Wangji was frowning at him.

“I know, I know, you’re in hiding,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s fine, it won’t give you away even if you do pick ‘Lan’. I can register him as a Yunmeng Lan instead of a Gusu Lan, the surname’s common enough that no one will suspect anything unless you make him start wearing a forehead ribbon, which I don’t think you lot do at this age yet anyway. But if you’re planning on continuing to hide from your family after you get better, you’re going to need to do something about all of that.”

Lan Wangji looked sour.

“Anyway, long story short, that’s it. Your plans, I need to know them.”

Lan Wangji looked even more sour.

“Well? What is it?”

“We will return to the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji said.

“Not that hard, was it,” Jiang Cheng said. “I knew you were just throwing a temper tantrum.”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes.

After a moment, he said, “What do we do about Jin Ling?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do about Jin Ling’?” Jiang Cheng asked suspiciously. “I had to fight half of Lanling Jin for the right to raise him here, we’re not doing anything about Jin Ling – anyway, who’s ‘we’? He’s my nephew!”

“A-Yuan sees him as a little brother.”

This was true.

“They will not want to part.”

…also true.

“Moreover,” and here Lan Wangji looked especially sour, “I believe A-Yuan has taken you as something of a – second parent.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’s a cute kid. Anyway, don’t take it so personally. Kids just do that, they adopt any adult in the vicinity as their own. I mean, certainly Jin Ling thinks of you as…wait. Wait. Are we co-parenting?!”

“Mm. Took you long enough to notice.”

It had been a bad day, a bad week, and a bad month, and Jiang Cheng’s temper, never good, was on the verge of imploding, so naturally that was when he completely lost all self-control he might have had and marched over to Lan Wangji’s room to blurt out, “Why do you hate me?”

Lan Wangji’s hands stilled over his guqin.

“I know why I hate you, even putting aside the fact that you’re a jackass with the emotional capacity of a brick,” Jiang Cheng said. “But I really have no idea what I did to you to make you hate me.”

There were so many options, after all. He was a cruel, vicious, and bitter man – he was a terrible parent, unlikable as a friend, barely sufficient as a sect leader, and such a failure at connecting socially with anyone that he’d been blacklisted as a marriage prospect despite being handsome, young, rich, and powerful. There were so many reasons to hate him.

But he didn’t know which one was the one that made Lan Wangji look at him with disdain, even if he thought that perhaps there was slightly less of that these days than there had been before.

“I hate you because you abandoned Wei Ying when he needed you,” Lan Wangji said. “He was your brother, and you left him behind – more than that, you led the charge against him, resulting in his death.”

…that was a good reason.

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t mind being hated for that reason, actually. It was a nice change from all those people who congratulated him for having done the right thing: all those smug sect leaders that comforted him for having raised a white-eyed wolf in the family, the ones that said his actions showed that he had a good backbone and a righteous bearing, the ones that had the gall to send him gifts of congratulation on the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death to thank him for his contribution to the cultivation world when all he wanted was to be left alone to mourn…

“That’s fine,” he croaked. “Okay. Yes. That’s – fine.”

“Why do you hate me?” Lan Wangji asked in turn. “You said you knew.”

“Oh, that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Same reason.”

Lan Wangji stared.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “I mean, I know you were always harsh on him when we were together at your uncle’s lectures, which was completely fair given how much he was always bothering you. But he really did try sincerely to help you when we were all the Wen sect’s camp, and in the cave with the Xuanwu – but after, in the war, when he showed up with his demonic cultivation, you suddenly turned on him even though he was just doing it to help. You kept telling him he had to stop, even though you knew he was doing so much for the war effort, and you wanted to take him back to Gusu to do who-knows-what to him…you even snatched him away during the battle of the Nightless City! I saw you. I was so afraid you were going to kill him, I completely lost my head. I looked for you everywhere – I really don’t know how he was lucky enough to get away from you that time.”

Lan Wangji stared at him.

“And then you didn’t even bother to show up to the siege of the Burial Mounds in person,” Jiang Cheng added, feeling bitter. “After I heard from the Lan sect that he escaped from you, I briefly thought that you’d changed your mind and let him go. I was counting on you to be at the Burial Mounds to support me in claiming him as a Jiang sect prisoner – I had Chifeng-zun signed on, if reluctantly, and with you leading the Lan I could’ve made a decent argument. But then you didn’t show, either you or your brother; instead you sent your uncle, and of course there wasn’t even any point in asking him, was there?”

“…I didn’t know,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded strangely hoarse. “I wasn’t informed. It was shortly after…”

He nodded at his own shoulder, meaning the disaster on his back. Jiang Cheng hadn’t asked how it happened – he really wanted to know, as in really, really, really wanted to know, but even he was aware that actually asking would be unbearably rude. Still, he was surprised by the timing of it. How had Lan Wangji managed to end up in the hands of his enemies then? Who had even been left to do it to him?

“Yeah, well,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head to try to kick away his curiosity the way he would something clinging to his foot. “You were still a bastard to him when he needed you, so I hate you.”

He frowned.

“Also, you hate me,” he said. “So I hated you back just for that. Though I guess, since your reason for hating me is valid, maybe I should stop hating you back for that?”

He considered it.

“No,” he decided. “You’re too annoying not to hate.”

“The same for you,” Lan Wangji said after an unusual hesitation.

Jiang Cheng nodded and, feeling oddly relieved at not having found a new basis for self-hatred, departs.

“So once you’ve reestablished yourself at the Cloud Recesses, we’ll exchange extended visits on a regular basis so the kids can see each other,” Jiang Cheng said, and Lan Wangji nodded. “A minimum of three weeks per season, whether in the Lotus Pier or Cloud Recesses, and preferably double that.”

“Agreed.”

“In the meantime, you’ll work on getting the trade agreement we hammered out through your brother and sect elders as recompense for the time you spent here.”

“Mm.”

“An agreement whose source you will be disclosing very carefully because the Venerated Triad will not hesitate to murder me if they figure out without adequate warning it was me that was housing you for all this time.”

Lan Wangji said nothing and promised nothing.

Bastard.

Still, after nearly three years, Jiang Cheng was pretty used to it.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng said. “Is there anything I’ve left out?”

“Joint night-hunts.”

“Right, right, we’ll make a point of regularly going on joint night-hunts – wait, why are we doing that? You don’t need me to watch your back now that you’re fully healed.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze wandered.

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said. “So we can keep having hate-sex on the regular?”

“…mm.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? It’s not like I’m doing anything else – or anyone else. Blacklisted, remember?”

“Unsurprising,” Lan Wangji said, like the bastard he was.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, whatever. The set-up works, doesn’t it? I’m blacklisted, you’re apparently eternally pining for Wei Wuxian of all people – your taste is the worst – so who’s going to call us out on it? Go on, get out of here already. I’ll see you next month.”

“Well,” Jiang Cheng said, looking between the newly resurrected Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, abruptly made of an issue he had hitherto not considered based on Lan Wangji’s screaming body language. “This is. Uh. Awkward?”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #spite in misery #delight in misery #sometimes you get a silly idea #and then you write it

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antebunny · 3 years

Text

never fear, your fairy godmother is here!

(It's Wei Wuxian. He's the fairy godmother)

Wei Wuxian is riding high off a difficult case finally closed when the next call comes through. He’s staring aimlessly into the beautiful delta waters of Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng when the tingling begins, a familiar sensation somewhere in his chest that tells him that somewhere is a worthy human in need of a guide for their happy ever after.

“–So then I thought, well what am I supposed to do? She doesn’t want a lover or a partner, but her future isn’t fame or riches either.”

Wei Wuxian isn’t sure that Jiang Cheng is actually listening to him, but he’s very proud of himself, so Jiang Cheng can suck it up. He’s used to finding his new charges in difficult and tragic circumstances, but he’s rarely found someone in quite such a sticky situation as poor Qin Su.

“And she insists that she doesn’t have someone in mind,” Wei Wuxian continues. “So you know what I did?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiang Cheng says vaguely, because he’s not listening at all. “Very cool.” He’s not a very good brother, Jiang Cheng. Well, they’re not related, but they also weren’t really born, they just kind of exist, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t worry too much about it.

“I found her a whole team!” Wei Wuxian finishes proudly. “I got a doctor from Qishan, who was looking to get away from her family, and her little brother, and a top disciple from Lanling, and boom! Team of four! That’s a family right there. They’re going to be friends for life.”

“Do you ever consider not boasting about yourself?” Jiang Cheng wonders out loud.

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian objects. “I’ll have you know I’m the number one fairy godmother!”

Jiang Cheng merely rolls his eyes. “As you haven’t stopped saying for the past hundred years.”

“Well, it’s–” Wei Wuxian stops mid-sentence and puts one hand behind him on the wooden planks of the boardwalk so he doesn’t collapse when his stomach rolls.

“Another one?” Jiang Cheng demands. “So soon?”

“I’m in high demand,” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“But jiejie and I have spent all day making a celebratory dinner,” Jiang Cheng says, dismayed. Then he corrects himself. “I mean, jiejie’s spent all day making dinner for us! Do you want to disappoint her? Do you?!”

Wei Wuxian stands up. If he wasn’t still flushed with success, if only he’d listened to the odd, twisting sensation that said this was not a normal case of a damsel in need of true love, perhaps he would’ve stayed. Perhaps none of what followed would have happened. But perhaps it was always destined to happen.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Wei Wuxian declares foolishly, and vanishes.

He appears in a thematically dark and twisted forest near sundown. The wind is whispering ominously through the leaves. Wei Wuxian pushes aside a branch in order to enter the clearing from which an ugly sobbing sound is coming from. It must be his new client.

By the light of the dying sun, Wei Wuxian can make out a hunched form dressed in fine white robes. The crying is quiet, but the person’s back shudders. They seem to be holding something. Wei Wuxian takes a moment to adjust. A great pair of black and red butterfly wings appear on his back. Humans more readily accept that he’s capable of inhuman feats if there’s something inhuman (but non threatening) about him. He usually goes for crow or raven wings, but he thinks the current setting might be a little inappropriate for that. Many of Wei Wuxian’s fellow fairy godmothers also opt for fancy robes, but Wei Wuxian’s never really felt comfortable with them.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat. “Hello,” he calls.

The man–because it is a man, Wei Wuxian quickly realizes, with a beauty he’s come to expect from his clients, and a cultivator’s sword–whirls around. He hasn’t got a very expressive face, but Wei Wuxian has spent hundreds of years around people. His client’s eyes are wild, disbelieving. He’s got a Lan ribbon on his forehead, one of the inner clan, if Wei Wuxian isn’t mistaken, and he never is. There are two tear tracks running down his cheeks, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Wei Wuxian steps closer. His new client staggers to his feet and looks away, but whatever he was holding or looking at is gone. When he looks back at Wei Wuxian, there’s an awestruck look of recognition on his face. Wei Wuxian grins, pleased to see that his influence has reached the ears of humans.

The man takes one shaky step forward. He seems to be trying to drink in Wei Wuxian’s presence, soak him in just by looking at him. Wei Wuxian can’t blame him. He is very impressive.

On that thought, Wei Wuxian spreads his arms wide. “Never fear, mortal! Your hour of distress has come to an end!” Above their heads, a cloud drifts away and allows the moon to beam through, bathing Wei Wuxian with soft light. “It is I, Wei Wuxian, your fairy godmother!”

Now his client is just staring at him blankly. Wei Wuxian’s grin falters. He lowers his arms and clears his throat. “Perhaps you didn’t h–”

“What’s a fairy godmother?” The client interrupts.

Really?

Wei Wuxian sighs. “I am in charge of finding you a happy ending, in whatever form that may take,” he answers.

He waits another beat. This is usually where his clients start thanking him.

The man does not look very impressed. “How does that involve butterfly wings?”

“I–!” Wei Wuxian starts, very offended and very taken aback. “I…thought they would be less threatening than crow wings?”

The man stares at him. Wei Wuxian vanishes the wings with a thought.

“Well, if you have a preference, just let me know,” Wei Wuxian grumbles sulkily. “I am at your service, after all.”

“That is unnecessary,” the man says flatly. The tears haven’t dried but he’s composed himself. He turns away from Wei Wuxian deliberately.

“What do you mean?” Wei Wuxian asks, chasing his client through the clearing when the cultivator starts to walk away.

“I am not in need of your help,” the ungrateful bastard says.

“Wh–! Yes, you are!” Wei Wuxian argues. “I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t a worthy damsel in distress in need of my services.”

At that term damsel in distress the man turns and gives him a withering, wintry glare. It’s under-cut by a deep well of loss, pain, and sadness that Wei Wuxian is convinced he can see on his client’s face. And to the rejection of damsel of distress, he can only shrug. It’s true.

“I’ll have you know I am the top fairy godmother,” Wei Wuxian says, in reply to the glare, as pretentiously as he can. “For the past hundred years. I have never failed a client. Whatever it is you want, true love, honor, treasure, a kingdom, I can find it for you. I promise you I have seen it all before.”

His client finally stops running away from him. Wei Wuxian saunters up to him. “If it’s love you’re worrying about, people are less narrow-minded than you think. There’s bound to be someone out there who’s exactly who you’re looking for. Well, most of them. Actually, my clients are sometimes a little narrow-minded. One of them specifically requested that I find a true love for him that had never been turned into an animal. A little narrow-minded, don’t you think?”

At this point, Wei Wuxian is up in his face, and his client is starting to look a little overwhelmed. Wei Wuxian backs up, gives him a little space. The Lan cultivator turns to look at the spot in the clearing where he’d been kneeling before Wei Wuxian showed up.

“Can you bring back the dead?” His client asks abruptly.

Wei Wuxian falters. “That’s–ehhh, that’s a, uh, gray area. Kind of depends. I’m going to lean towards no. Yeah, feels like a no. No necromancy here. I have definitely never done that before.”

The righteous Lan cultivator actually has the nerve to look disappointed in him. “Then I have no use for you,” he says stiffly, and starts to walk away again.

“Okay, hold up!” Wei Wuxian splutters, hurrying after him. The man does not hold up, forcing Wei Wuxian to keep pace through the dark forest. It’s no problem for Wei Wuxian, but rather rude, all things considered. “How rude! Here I am offering to solve your life’s problems and you question my abilities–you know I once created a whole celestial mountain for one of my clients–hey! Think of my reputation,” he begs, when his rude client continues to walk away. “I have never, ever failed a client before. Think of how it would look if one of my clients just walked away! Just give me a chance. Please. Please?”

His runaway client finally stops running away, right in a thicket of trees. Wei Wuxian almost bumps into him.

“This is important to you?” His client asks finally, without looking back.

“Oh yes, very,” Wei Wuxian knows immediately, because that’s the thing about his clients. They’re all good people, whether they’d like to admit it or not. The only people who like to help more than them are the fairy godmothers. “It would make me very happy to make you happy.”

The man’s shoulders relax ever-so slightly. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian fist-pumps. He glances up at the moon, reminding himself that humans have to do things like eat and sleep. “Okay, first things first, I’ll get you home,” he decides. “Tomorrow we can–”

“I have no home,” his new client interrupts in a dispassionate tone that suggests this subject has one too many emotions for him to handle.

Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow internally and thinks of his Lan clan ribbon, but says nothing. He merely mentally files this client into the hundreds of lost-their-home clients that have come before him. There’s no telling why his new client lost his home. Usually they tell Wei Wuxian about their woes willingly, without Wei Wuxian having to beg them to burden him with their problems. But there’s a whole host of solutions to the no-home problem, exactly none of which Wei Wuxian can think of when the man reaches up and pulls his forehead ribbon off with trembling fingers.

“Um,” Wei Wuxian warbles. He averts his eyes from the now bare forehead. Later he’ll chalk it up to the difficulty in acquiring this client and the subsequent need to prove his powers that leads him to suggest: “W-what about my house?”

His client turns to face him. He looks a little shocked, but mostly confused.

“I live in the heavenly Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian says grandly. Well, he tries to say it grandly, but it comes out matter-of-fact. “I’ve got plenty of room. And you needn’t worry about politics up there.”

Slowly, his client nods, his face unreadable.

“Great,” Wei Wuxian says brightly. He reaches for his client’s hand, ignores the scandalized look he receives, and vanishes both of them to Lotus Pier.

They appear in a pavilion at the end of one of the many boardwalks. Enormous pastel lotus flowers dot the still waters. In the distance, the still waters cascade into a roaring waterfall that pours off the edge of the heavens. Above them, the sun is setting. Wei Wuxian’s client is winded from the sudden travel, so Wei Wuxian doesn’t let go of his hand. The scent of fresh water and spice sets in.

When the client steadies himself, Wei Wuxian tugs him out of the pavilion. The human’s eyes widen as the halls of Lotus Pier come into view, and Wei Wuxian smirks to himself. That’s the only reason why he’s sad that humans don’t come to Lotus Pier. He’d love a chance to show off his home more.

His client is still trying to take in the magnificent sloping roofs, the purple clouds and the dusk orange sky, when Wei Wuxian urges him into a walk.

“Come on,” Wei Wuxian says, still smiling widely. “We’ll be late for dinner.”

#mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #who let me write fic at midnight again #this seems like a terrible idea #my writing #greetings tumblr void #still pushing my damsel lwj agenda #ficlet

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yuziyuanapologist · 3 years

Text

i know it can't be spoke

>hello! so i finished the [mostly platonic] chengsu fic that i posted just the first few paragraphs of a couple of days ago! it's also on ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

>this is set around 3 years after nightless city and there is discussion of past character death and discussions of jin guangshan being Gross but neither are in any detail!

>3k words + complete!

The conference has been going for hours when Qin Su finally steps out, free of the clamoring voices and obnoxious volume of the men expressing their opinions, in order to focus herself on another matter - searching for a missing clan leader.

It's not a difficult search - missing is perhaps an exaggeration. She finds him - where else - by the lotus pond. He's there with Jin Ling, three years old now, who splashes around as if making waves will turn it into a Yunmeng lake.

Jiang Cheng is watching, tense and upset, the sort of face she's seen him make with Jin Ling thrown over his shoulder because he won't stop wailing and refuses to sleep. But this isn't about that - obviously. She's been at the conference, just as the others have - even since her marriage is so different to the way she envisioned it, A-Yao asked for her support and her presence, and she gives both willingly. She'd been at the conference, therefore, when conversation had turned to grievances of old. When Jin-zongzhu had seen fit to publicly mourn his son and nephew, and fill the hall with cries of hatred for their murderers.

Eyes are drawn to the loudest in the room at this point, such is always the case, but Qin Su finds her eyes on the quietest. The closed-lipped, trembling-handed anger - no, not anger - betrayal - no, nor that -

Grief.

She had been at the conference, too, when Jiang Cheng had stood, and made his excuses. When there had been muttering and sideways glances and yet no one had bothered to go and look for him until Qin Su had whispered behind her sleeve to A-Yao, and he had nodded with a gratified smile.

She hasn't become close to Jiang Cheng in these few years. Even in the time he spends at Jinlintai - he's silent, stern, his best impression of someone unapproachable.

Thus far, Qin Su has humoured him. Even after the way she has seen him when he's left, bouncing A-Ling with a smile on his face, cradling him with gentle arms, everything that comes with being around such a young child. It brings a smile to her face in thinking that he might bring this same softness to her son, when he's old enough - not even one year, yet, and growing so fast she almost misses a part of it by blinking.

A-Song is with the wet nurse now, for the duration of the conference, and part of her misses him so dearly just being away for an afternoon, but this - this seems important. No one besides her has thought to seek out Jiang Cheng.

Though they aren’t close, each time she sees him she notices that he is more and more alone in these conferences. And this is no different. Perhaps there is a reason for it, or perhaps it is how he likes it. Still, the opposite might be true - that he might be lonely, that he might need someone.

She steps forward, from her - not hiding place, exactly, but from where she had been standing behind the archway of the garden.

“Jiang-zongzhu,” she calls softly, and first catches A-Ling’s attention.

“Shenshen!” he calls, excitedly, and rushes out of the pond, his wet robes splashing everything in the vicinity.

Jiang Cheng turns only after this, and his expression is stony once again, as if he is unimpressed by everything, as if nothing could affect him in the slightest.

Of course, that could be the truth, but it seems unlikely.

“Shenshen!” A-Ling calls again, and rushes to hug her legs before she can stop him, getting her skirts all wet.

“Oh, A-Ling,” she tries to scold him, but it falls short, laced with affection.

“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng’s anger is no better help, A-Ling only holds tighter and hides behind Qin Su's legs to escape him. “A-Ling, we agreed if you go in the pond, you don't touch anything until you're changed. Let go right now!”

“No!” A-Ling cries. “Don’t want to! I won’t!”

“A-Ling!” It feels as though this is a battle of wills that Jiang Cheng, for all of his stubbornness, won’t win.

Qin Su laughs, and reaches down to take A-Ling’s wet hands from her legs, bringing him to her side and crouching down in front of him.

“Now, A-Ling,” she says softly. “How about we go and get you some dry clothes? You must be uncomfortable in those wet ones.”

She’s not entirely comfortable herself, but the water hasn’t soaked all the way through, and the air will dry her soon enough. With a nephew like A-Ling, she is well acquainted with mess and chaos. Should probably prepare for it with A-Song, too - already he is an excitable child, laughing loudly at A-Ling’s antics when he sees them, and throwing toys that he has only just learnt to pick up.

A-Ling pouts and shakes his head.

“No?”

Another shake.

“What do you want to do instead?”

“Want to see the dogs! Xiao-shushu says I can have one when I’m older!”

Qin Su smiles, and looks up at Jiang Cheng. A-Yao had said that he used to keep dogs as a child, too, so perhaps seeing the dogs will bring him some happiness too. But - instead of anything joyful in his expression, there’s just more - yet more of an echo of what he had shown in the conference hall. More of his grief. Qin Su won’t claim to understand it, and nor will she draw attention to it.

She sighs, and looks back at A-Ling. “If you want to see the dogs, A-Ling, you need to be dry first. Come, let’s go back to your room.”

She stands, and holds a hand out for him to take, so that she can walk him back to his room, but instead of simply obeying, A-Ling rushes back to Jiang Cheng, and grabs his hand, then pulls him forward before taking Qin Su’s hand so that A-Ling is walking between them.

“A-Ling-”

“Jiujiu is coming too!” he insists, and there really is no arguing with a determined Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng clears his throat, and speaks gruffly. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Qin Su replies truthfully. It’s heartwarming to see what Jiang Cheng would do for his nephew - what he would do for very few other people - if, indeed, any.

They walk through Jinlintai, A-Ling bouncing in between them, impatiently pulling on their hands. He doesn’t seem to want anything more than their attention, at first, which they both give, but eventually, his pulling becomes more insistent.

“Swing me, swing me!” he demands, and Qin Su glances to the side to catch Jiang Cheng's expression softening a little.

He coughs, and straightens his face before looking at Qin Su. “Uh - can you -?” he tries to ask it, and must know that she would take offense if he doubted her strength, because he cuts himself off quickly.

Qin Su nods, thinking it best not to react to his stumbling. “Come on then, A-Ling - on three - one, two - three!”

At three, both of them lift their arms high up, so that A-Ling soars into the air between them, his little legs leaving the ground and kicking while he squeals excitedly.

They lower A-Ling to the ground, and he quickly cries “Again, again!”

Qin Su looks to Jiang Cheng, her smile wide in the hopes to encourage one from him, one that he won’t hide this time. “Again?” she asks.

They repeat the process twice more, lifting the excitable A-Ling, who never seems to lose his glee.

And, the third time that they lower him to the ground together, Qin Su’s arm starting to strain at this point - the third time, her work pays off. Jiang Cheng smiles.

She doesn't draw attention to it, knowing that it’s a fragile thing, but returns it softly, and notes that they have arrived to A-Ling’s room now, and that he needs to go in and get changed.

Still, A-Ling demands that they both enter with him, tugging on both their hands and kicking at the door as if he can open it without letting go of the two of them. Shaking her head, Qin Su slides the door open, and finally A-Ling lets go of her hand, rushing inside and getting his wet footprints all across the rug.

“A-Ling, come back here,” Jiang Cheng says. “Your shoes are all wet.”

Qin Su smiles to herself as she looks around in A-Ling’s cupboards for clean robes and spare shoes. It doesn’t take her long - though it isn’t normally her job to help him dress, she has taken it on a few times, for sometimes when he returns from Lotus Pier he is so upset and disconcerted that he will only allow a select few people in to his rooms, and she is one of them, despite having no true relation to him.

“Here, A-Ling,” she says, guiding him towards the screen. “Let’s get you changed.”

He grabs the clothes from her and insists “I can do it myself, Shenshen!”

While she’s not entirely sure that’s true - the belt on his outer robes especially takes the work of fine motor skills to tie, she allows him to go by himself.

“Shout if you need me, then,” she says. “I’ll be out here.”

She sits down at the table to wait for his return, and soon enough Jiang Cheng joins her, in silence at first.

Qin Su breaks the quiet, in case Jiang Cheng needs it to be broken.

“We should both still be at the conference,” she says, realising as she does that though it’s the first thing to ming, it’s not the ideal thing to say to him. Thankfully, he takes it with humour, and lets out a half laugh. Not quite amusement, but not distress either.

“I don’t imagine they will be saying anything of use,” he remarks. “Usually it takes the whole day to get off the subject once it’s brought up.” He looks down, and swallows, and Qin Su tries to make her expression one of sympathy, but he doesn’t look up to see it.

“I’m -” she starts, but at that moment, A-Ling rushes out, his outer robes untied.

“Shenshen,” he says, all mournful. “I can’t tie it.”

She shakes his head at him coming out rather than calling for her, but then, it’s likely nothing that Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen.

In fact, Jiang Cheng beckons A-Ling to him before Qin Su can.

“Come here,” he says, sounding very much like he’s disguising affection with gruffness, and where he clearly could make quick work of tying the robes, he is slow and patient, making sure that A-Ling is watching how his hands move. Perhaps it is simply that he is bored of having to do this for A-Ling, and impatient for him to learn it himself, but what Qin Su sees is his deep care, knowing that - behind it all, when unobserved, Jiang Cheng really does - care.

And - this isn’t even as close to him as she could be. How much further he could be from what everyone believes, is - almost unfathomable, really. There’s so much that everyone seems to miss, and -

Maybe, if she tried harder, she could know him better. She daren’t believe that she could heal any of his pain, but - maybe, to start, she can be a shoulder for him. At least - an ally, here at Jinlintai - heaven knows he doesn’t have enough of them here, with A-Yao’s associations so carefully dictated by his father, and the Jiang clan as a whole so deep into the Jin clan’s pocket ever since three years ago -

Thankfully, Jin Guangshan does not dictate her associations in the same way - in fact, only really pays her enough mind to throw the occasional lewd comment her way, which she takes with grace and composure and, secretly, swears that one day he’ll pay for it. But it means that he doesn’t care about who she speaks to or associates with.

“Can we go see the dogs now?” A-Ling asks, before Qin Su can fall deeper into those thoughts. He’s standing back from Jiang Cheng now, his eyes fixed on the tie of his robes with his eyes wide as if he still doesn’t quite understand how it got there, even with all of Jiang Cheng’s careful instruction.

“Soon,” Qin Su promises, before Jiang Cheng can speak - not knowing him means she also doesn’t know him well enough to say if he would have noticed the state of A-Ling’s hair. “Let me tidy your hair first. Or your Jiujiu can?”

He doesn’t get to spend enough time with his nephew, so to take this role away from him would be unfair if he would want it.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head, almost scowling. “He always cries when I do it.”

“Ah,” Qin Su nods, as she moves to the side to allow A-Ling to sit in front of her, facing away so that she can reach his hair, and begin to untangle the hair piece from the damp strands. “I used to have the same problem. The trick is to distract him.”

She rifles through the drawers to her side, and finds a little wooden puzzle that she knows he enjoys. “A-Ling, here. I won’t take long with your hair, and then we can go and see the dogs.”

He takes the puzzle and is immediately rapt by it. Qin Su lifts the brush from the drawers, and starts to tease it through A-Ling’s tangled hair.

“And here, look,” she shows Jiang Cheng. “If you comb the ends to start with, he won’t be so upset when you reach the knots further up.”

She offers the comb, but still Jiang Cheng refuses. “You’re still better at it than I am.”

She laughs quietly, then continues. It’s not long before she’s tying up his hair with pale yellow ribbon, and fixing it with a hairpiece decorated with peonies.

“You know,” she muses. “I almost feel he should have one that’s decorated with lotuses. It feels unfair that he should only be a Jin.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t reply, but when she looks over at him, she sees him deep in thought, and what could almost be a smile.

“Jie would have liked that,” he says. “But - I have no real say in it.”

It makes sense that it should be that way, but it still feels unfair. When A-Song grows up, she’d like for him to know himself as a Qin, too. Qin Su lets go of A-Ling’s hair with one hand, and reaches across the table to lay her hand on Jiang Cheng’s forearm.

“If you’d like,” she says. “I can have someone fetch him something from Lanling. Something - perhaps not Yunmeng purple, but at least close - I can say it was from me.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen, his arm tense as if he wants to pull away - or wants her to think he wants to pull away - or thinks he should pull away - but he stays still, where he is, and his voice lowers to almost a whisper. “You - you would?”

“Of course,” she says. “He deserves some memory of his mother. And you, when you aren’t here.”

She lets her hand linger for a moment longer, to stress the point, putting the sincerity into her gaze, too. Then, a moment later, with one last squeeze of her fingers, she pulls her hand back to focus on A-Ling’s hair again.

Jiang Cheng swallows roughly, and only replies when she’s no longer looking directly at him. “I - thank you,” he replies, as if holding back tears. “I - I mean - you don’t need to - you’ve no obligation to me, or -”

"I'm aware of that," Qin Su replies carefully. "But perhaps I just wish to do this for you, and for A-Ling, and for his mother. She was always kind to me."

"She was kind to everyone," Jiang Cheng says - and it's not that he's trying to dissuade her appreciation, it's - closer to the sweet edge of reminiscence, only with that added Jiang Cheng flair of affectionate scorn.

"Well," Qin Su says kindly. "I was grateful for it."

Jiang Cheng is - ever softening, now, his expression not so sharp as Qin Su is accustomed to seeing it. He takes a breath with something of a tremor to it, and then lets it out again slowly. “Good,” he says. “She - she was always happiest when other people were.”

“I could tell.”

Qin Su is still almost mindlessly brushing the ends of A-Ling’s hair as they talk, though his hair is long since smooth, and almost completely dry, the loose parts almost wisps that float down his back. She brushes out one last piece, thoughts turning to the lotus pond that’s responsible for the damp.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Lotus Pier,” she muses. “When A-Yao went last - I was too far along with A-Song to join him. I hear it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng replies, certain as she’s never heard him before. He opens his mouth to say something more, but doesn’t get so much as a sound out before clamping his mouth shut again.

Qin Su lets out the edge of a laugh, and with it, an idea. “Perhaps, if you feel the need to owe me something - you could invite me to visit,” she suggests. “I’ll bring A-Song and A-Ling - I can even find something for A-Ling to wear in his hair from Yunmeng. That way we’ll be equal.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes, wide, are fixed on her as if he finds something about her incomprehensible. He starts to nod, then changes his mind, and opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and - it’s sweet, how such a small thing could render him so speechless.

“If you don’t know what to say, just go along with it,” Qin Su teases. “It’s a good idea.”

She places the brush down on the table, the click of it against the wood alerting A-Ling to drop the puzzle to the side and stand. Jiang Cheng only manages a small nod, before -

“Shenshen, Jiujiu! Can we go see the dogs now?”

A-Ling has turned to face both of them, his hands on his hips, making such a picture that Qin Su can’t help but laugh quietly, and hears Jiang Cheng join her too.

“A-Ling,” she smiles, cupping his cheek, stroking lightly with her thumb. “Lead the way, then.”

#chengsu #chengsu fic #the untamed #the untamed fic #jiang cheng #qin su #fic*#mine #me:I'm going to bed just as soon as I have finished this tiny thing!#thing: takes half an hour

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Parents

Jiang Cheng is still panting heavily when he goes to check if they really did kill the yao, but when he turns slightly to make a joke at Nie Mingjue, his husband is nowhere to be seen.

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng yells out and he doesn’t want to admit it, but fear grips his heart.

The last moments of the fight were pretty hectic and rough; what if something happened to Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng didn’t notice it?

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng yells again, louder this time, when no answer comes and he goes back to where he thinks he saw Nie Mingjue last.

“Shush, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue scolds him out of the blue and Jiang Cheng follows his voice into one of the many destroyed houses around the place.

The did not lose the whole village to the yao; these are long abandoned houses they simply found the yao at and so Jiang Cheng frowns.

“What’s going on?” he asks, carefully stepping into one of the destroyed houses but he comes to an abrupt stop when he sees what Nie Mingjue is holding.

“Is that a baby?” Jiang Cheng breathes out and is at Nie Mingjue’s side a moment later.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue says, even though it’s pretty obvious that the squirming and clearly upset bundle in his arms is a human baby.

“What happened?” Jiang Cheng demands to know and steps closer to check the baby over.

“I don’t know. She made a sound and when I came in here, I found her all naked on the ground, not even crying. I hope she’s okay.”

Now that Nie Mingjue said it Jiang Cheng realizes that he cut his own robes to dress her, and the act just makes him love Nie Mingjue more.

“Let me see her,” Jiang Cheng says, holding his hands out expectantly and when Nie Mingjue drops her into his arms he checks her over more thoroughly.

There are no visible wounds on her and even though she seems a little bit too cold, she’s quickly warming up, now that she can leech off Jiang Cheng’s and Nie Mingjue’s body heat.

“She seems fine to me,” Jiang Cheng decides. “Maybe a little bit hungry, but she doesn’t seem injured.”

“Thank the gods,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and gently strakes his finger over her cheek. “I was worried because she wouldn’t cry. I still remember how Jin Ling was, it seemed strange for her not to make a sound.”

Jiang Cheng decides not to take offense on Jin Ling’s behalf, because he was one loud baby and instead says “Babies are much more sensitive than we give them credit for. If her parents were hiding from the yao, it’s likely she somehow picked up on the fact that she needs to be quiet.”

“She’s barely older than six month,” Nie Mingjue says with a frown and Jiang Cheng presses her protectively to his chest.

“And maybe she’s just especially bright,” he snaps back and then walks out of the house. “Come on, we still have to let the healers check her over, maybe we missed something,” he calls over his shoulder when Nie Mingjue doesn’t follow him immediately.

“Alright, alright. But Wanyin—no getting attached. We’re not keeping her,” he says and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Of course we’re not keeping her. I don’t want any more kids, Jin Ling totally was enough for me,” he cheekily says, though immediately the doubt cuts deep again.

Jin Ling is only six, but the kid already has an attitude and he has his nose high up in the sky and Jiang Cheng is afraid that he fucked him over for good. He is not fit to raise any kid, least of all his sister’s child, and absolutely not the sweet baby in his arms.

“As long as you remember,” Nie Mingjue says and then keeps a hand under the babies bum the whole time they walk.

As if Jiang Cheng would ever let anything this precious drop.

~*~*~

“How is our baobei doing?” Nie Mingjue asks with a huge smile as he walks into the infirmary.

They are keeping her there for a lack of better accommodations, though Jiang Cheng is getting out all of Jin Ling’s old stuff again. Soon enough she’ll be able to sleep with them in their bedroom.

“She is perfectly alright,” Jiang Cheng gives back and looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor, tickling her tummy and watching her squirming around and squealing with laughter.

“And how is my most amazing husband doing?” Nie Mingjue asks as he drops a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head and then blows raspberries onto the babies tummy.

“I am doing very well, too, thank you for asking,” Jiang Cheng seriously gives back and then erupts into laughter when Nie Mingjue gives him a disgruntled look at that.

It makes the baby clap her hands together and kick her tiny, tiny feet in the air and Jiang Cheng simply melts at the sight.

“And news of her parents?” he asks, mostly to distract himself from the urge of squeezing her to death and Nie Mingjue shakes his head as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng and picks her up.

“No. There were reports of a family running from the yao, but no one knew them and no one seems to know where the parents ran off to. I left a message in the house we found her in, in case they come back, but I don’t think it’s looking promising. It’s been a week already.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng thoughtfully says and offers up one of his fingers for her to hold on to. “What a shame.”

“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue agrees and then they fall silent.

Well, at least until their little baobei starts to scream bloody murder because she’s hungry.

~*~*~

They are laying in bed, Jiang Cheng tracing senseless shapes into Nie Mingjue’s chest when he speaks up.

“We’re not keeping her, right?” Jiang Cheng asks and Nie Mingjue tenses.

“Wanyin, I thought we were agreeing on this,” he cautiously says and Jiang Cheng props himself up to look at him.

“We are. I am not fit to be a father; I was barely able to be an uncle to Jin Ling and raising him—I did so much wrong. I’m too much of my mother and not enough of my father and I’m just—”

“Well, from what you told me about your parents and from what I have seen with Jin Ling you are exactly the right mix of them. Just from the top of my head I can come up with at least seven instances where you held or carried Jin Ling, so I’d say you are perfectly good.”

“I messed up so much with him,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “The real damage will only show when he’s older, just you wait.”

“Well, pardon me, but your parents were shit and you turned out alright if I dare say so,” Nie Mingjue tells him and pulls him into a kiss. “And I am not actually keen on being a dad, either. I was pouring so much into raising Huaisang when our father died and I don’t know if I can raise anyone without the explicit expectation of them having to be a Sect Heir.”

Nie Mingjue sighs and Jiang Cheng snuggles closer to him.

“Look at how I messed up with him. I put so much pressure onto him all the time because I feared I would die young and now he avoids any kind of responsibility as if his life depends on it. I already fucked up once. I’m not going to do it again.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” Jiang Cheng protests. “If anything you spoilt him too much. You were too lenient. It’s not like he ever cowers when you yell at him, right? He’s clearly not afraid of you or the consequences you keep threatening him with, because he damn well knows you’d never follow through.”

“Is that right?” Nie Mingjue asks, raising one eyebrow at Jiang Cheng. “Just like Jin Ling laughs at you whenever you threaten to break his legs?”

“That’s different,” Jiang Cheng huffs.

“I don’t think it is,” Nie Mingjue argues and then rolls them over onto the side so they can sleep.

“No more kids,” he mutters, burying his face in Jiang Cheng’s hair and Jiang Cheng agrees.

No more kids for them.

~*~*~

It’s been two months by now since they found little Baobei in the abandoned house and they have formed a routine around her.

The healers complained after two weeks of her being in the infirmary that she can’t stay there anymore so Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue took her to their own bedroom, letting her sleep right next to their bed, so they could keep an eye on her.

“Good morning, little baobei,” Jiang Cheng says when she grumbles herself awake and Nie Mingjue laughs at the sight.

“She’s just like you,” he jokes and Jiang Cheng can’t even manage a proper frown over her head.

“Shut up, she is not,” he denies and Nie Mingjue has not even the decency to argue with him about this.

“Let’s go find Jiang Zedong and hear how the search for parents for her is going,” Jiang Cheng mutters, a little bit miffed that Nie Mingjue wouldn’t indulge him in a little argument, but when Nie Mingjue comes over to pepper first Baobei with kisses and then Jiang Cheng, he decides it’s forgotten.

When they ask Jiang Zedong about the issue he stares at them like they lost their minds.

“What do you mean, possible parents for her?”

“What do you mean, what do we mean?” Jiang Cheng bites back, though he’s aware that the look is a little bit ruined with Baobei in his arms. “You’re supposed to look for possible parents for her, what’s going on?”

“You mean for other people to take her in?”

“Other people? Who else would take her in?” Nie Mingjue asks as well, and when Baobei starts to sniffle, he takes her right out of Jiang Cheng’s arms.

It turns out that Baobei is a very sensitive baby, and she picks up on moods incredibly well. They haven’t found much that can sooth her, but resting against Nie Mingjue’s chest always seems to do the trick.

Jiang Cheng can relate. It’s a very good chest to lean on.

“You?” Jiang Zedong shoots back and Jiang Cheng quickly reaches out when Nie Mingjue’s arms go slack.

He manages to secure Baobei until Nie Mingjue remembers himself and hugs her close again.

“We’re not looking to adopt,” Nie Mingjue tells him, and Jiang Zedong frowns in confusion.

“But didn’t you already? I mean, she sleeps with you and you modelled your whole day around her. You come running when she cries or makes any kind of sound and no offense, but you don’t even allow the healers to hold her for her check-ups. I am actually afraid of what you’ll do if I tell you that we did find someone to adopt. Honestly, I just thought you would keep her.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at Nie Mingjue who in turn blinks at him.

“We didn’t want to adopt,” Jiang Cheng eventually says and Nie Mingjue nods.

“Well, to me—and everyone else—it looks like you already did. Now if you excuse me, I have real problems to solve here,” he then tells them and simply marches off.

Jiang Cheng wonders what demon was possessing him when he appointed Jiang Zedong his second in command, but when Baobei gurgles he forgets that thought.

“We weren’t looking to adopt,” Nie Mingjue says and bounces Baobei in a soothing manner.

“No, we weren’t.”

“Maybe—maybe she adopted us?” Nie Mingjue tries and Jiang Cheng sighs, before he leans into Nie Mingjue’s side.

“My soul, maybe it’s time we face the truth,” he gravely says, and surprisingly enough he’s not terrified out of his mind. “We’re done for. We are her parents.”

There’s a moment of silence from Nie Mingjue before he shrugs.

“Could be worse, I guess,” he says and lifts Baobei up high in the air.

Jiang Cheng fights the urge to snag her out of his hands, because what if he lets her fall, but by then Nie Mingjue already has her safely against his chest again.

“Just promise me, Wanyin: if I put too much pressure on her, if I demand too much of her, you’ll have to smack me over the head.”

“I’ll smack you over the head whenever I please,” Jiang Cheng cheerfully tells him but then he nods. “Of course I promise. And—the same goes for you: if I snap at her like my mother did or if I don’t give her the affection she deserves, you’ll have to smack some sense into me.”

“I promise, my heart, but you already did a good job with Jin Ling.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t comment on that, because the fear that he fucked his nephew up sits deep, but when Baobei babbles happily at him, he pushes those thoughts away.

“Oh shit,” Jiang Cheng suddenly says, and looks with big eyes at Nie Mingjue. “We have to come up with a real name for her!”

“Oh fuck,” Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees and then they dissolve into laughter because if that is their biggest worry right now, then maybe they’ll be alright.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #mdzsbingo #established relationship #canon divergence #adoption #found family #quite literally #fluff

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rosethornewrites · 3 months

Text

NR, E, and M reading since 1/22

Finished

Not Rated:

The lavender handkerchief, by barisan

Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets left a deeper wound on his mind. Lan Qiren finds him having a panic attack after being triggered during his punishment.

Ready, Set, Hop, by mondengel

Lan Wangji competes in his first rabbit agility race.

Explicit:

A Small Price to Pay, by RockingRobin

“You probably want to get up,” Wei Wuxian says, noting the bitterness in his own tone, “and—do things. Be productive and all. It’s, what, after six already. We should be way out of bed and past breakfast.”

Lan Zhan gives him a look. “No,” he decides, and wraps an arm around his waist. “Today is Easy Day. Wei Ying can rest.”

They don't get much rest.

A Little Later On, by KingdomFlameVIII (2nd in a series)

"Wei Ying," he says, like it's a refrain. His warm hands come up to gently take hold of Wei Wuxian by the arms.

"Please, tell me. What happened to you?"

The Future Doesn't Scare Me At All, by KingdomFlameVIII (4th in a series)

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji said, "Do you intend to keep things this way?"

"Well no," said Wei Wuxian, "I've already had Uncle Four see about making me a better table, but there are other projects we need lumber for yet, you know how it is."

"No," said Lan Wangji, "Do you intend to. To stay here?"

Do you intend to sleep next to the blood pool, he is asking. Do you intend to nurture fierce corpses, to walk footpaths with bones sticking out where roots should be? To live within the hills that eat people?

Wei Wuxian looked at him uncomfortably. "What else can I do? I can't give up these people. There is no wide road for me to walk. The clans have made up their mind. If I am to die, let me do it without regret."

Nothing's Like Before, by KingdomFlameVIII (5th in a series)

Wei Ying turned his eyes to him, and held him there for a long moment. He stared with longing, like he really was about to say goodbye, like he was preparing for a loss, and Lan Wangji had no idea what to make of it.

Then, without preamble, Wei Wuxian said, "Lan Zhan, I'm still in love with you."

Mature:

Changed for the Better, by tigerlilly3224

“T-They have busy lives. It’s hard for them to step away.” Wei Wuxian didn’t usually stutter.

He was tripping over his words. Trying to justify the accusations faster than his mouth can form the sounds. His brain brought up the long prepared list of why the Jiang’s did and always would come first.

Lan Wangji narrowed his gaze. “You lower your own worth for their sake. You told me you wrote wrong answers on assignments so you wouldn't get a better grade than Jiang Cheng. You are your own person Wei Ying and you live as if you take up too much space. I want -“

{aka. college roommates wangxian learn to navigate their lives and heal each other along the way ✨🫶}

Having one soulmate in this life is enough, by secretninjagirl

“Wei Ying, come to bed,” he says. His eyes are still so soft, and his voice is so warm.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian says, wondering if his voice sounds as unsteady as he feels. He doesn’t know what this means, but he’s powerless to resist his soulmate. He will take whatever Lan Wangji is willing to give him.

------

A "missing scene" of sorts from episode 43 of The Untamed. The pan out over the Jingshi with their song playing felt very much to me like a subtextual sex scene. So I wrote that hypothetical scene.

River Stones, by littlesystems (2 chapters)

“Do you think we’re somehow in a different time?” Wei Wuxian says, feeling absurd for even voicing the words aloud even though it’s the only thing that makes sense. Time travel is one of those things you hear about in stories, in folk tales. No cultivators have ever actually managed time travel. It’s not real.

Unfinished

Not Rated:

you can have the best of me, baby, by stiltonbasket

Twelve hours after Jiang Cheng and the others escape from Mount Muxi, Wei Wuxian risks wading into the lake and discovers that the underwater passage to the stream in the maple wood has been blocked behind the tortoise’s body.

“It’s sleeping right beside the opening,” he whispers, when he and Lan Zhan are safe in a tunnel of rock too narrow for the Xuanwu’s neck and head. “Judging by the current in the water, that passage was the only way out.”

Trapped in the Xuanwu's cave with no means of escape, Lan Wangji suggests a surprising course of action to strengthen himself and Wei Wuxian for battle: dual cultivation.

The session proves successful, but despite their best efforts, Wei Wuxian's golden core yields unexpected consequences for them both.

Enough!, by Jeeny271196

Wei WuXian had enough of them blaming him for everything. Or say Wei WuXian snapped out!

Wei WuXian reacted differently after Lan Xichen blaming him for Lan Wangji's suffering at guangying temple. Which changed lot of things.

Explicit:

Discarded, by teawater

Children in Cloud Recesses are succumbing to a dark curse. There's one person who may be able to help.

Heart of the Beast, by WaitForTheSnitch

“Wei Ying?” Nie Mingjue prompted him gently. “Where are your parents?”

“They went on a night hunt,” Wei Ying said, a bit evasively.

“Your parents are cultivators?” Da-ge asked in surprise. “Did they leave you here while they hunted? When did they go on their night hunt?”

“Four summers ago,” Wei Ying said a bit uncomfortable.

“Four summers ago,” Nie Mingjue repeated. “What are your parents’ names?”

“My mama is Cangse Sanren and my baba is Wei Changze,” Wei Ying told him, and recognition registered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes.

“Wei Ying,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding a bit regretful, “Your parents aren’t coming back.”

Or, Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang run into Wei Ying while in Yiling and decide to bring him home. And it changes everything.

Mature:

Alternate, by Hanashi_o_suru

No one is actually sure what happened, or why it happened. No one died. No one made any whacked up array that backfired --to their knowledge--and no one wasn't necessarily in discontent for where they were in life...

So, why is it they're suddenly in the past to the day they had just got to the Cloud Recesses?

hindsight, by bokuboketto

Sizhui and Jingyi want to clear Wei-qianbei's reputation.

Zizhen wants to witness the famous love story between Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch.

Jin Ling just wants his uncles to get the fuck along.

Nie Huaisang wants to atone.. and maybe to be called Huaisang-ge.

Into the Oubliette, by Ruixx

Wei Wuxian never thought being a spouse could be a valid career path. Now married to to the mysterious, quiet Second Jade of Lan he has to learn to navigate through the notoriously strict Gusu Lan clan and make himself home. Unfortunately war looms on the horizon and his enigma of a husband doesn’t seem to have much of a plan other than screwing him senseless. He’s not complaining, really.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #cql #chen qing ling #untamed fanfiction

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songofclarity · 3 years

Note

when you said "[Huaisang] took taking down jgy so seriously and so professionally; he has no cheering moment or hail of victory" I was reminded of another post I saw about the moment at the beginning of NMJ's Empathy flashback where the disciples are celebrating the victory over the puppets but NMJ only looks grim. It's something the Nie bros have in common: both consider violence and killing to be necessary and justified— but it's a grim duty, to be undertaken with seriousness, not satisfaction

Yes, that comparison is exactly it, Anon! I do appreciate how CQL ensured Nie MingJue was all business during his fights. Even at the banquet when the Sunshot Campaign was over and done with, his group arrived late (‘Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come’) and he looked miserable. Not even an official victory party could put a smile on his face, much less encourage him to celebrate three years of hard work!

I would hesitate, however, before accusing the Nie brothers of finding violence and/or killing as necessary. Those are just tools in the tool box and they could be taken out as needed but they weren’t always needed, much less required. We see time and time again how the Nie brothers pick non-violent options when violence and murder would make their lives so much easier. And this choice between violence and non-violence is important. This is the choice that separates them both from Jin GuangYao. Because when it comes down to it, what was the point of having fought against the Wen Sect if they were all just to become violent and murderous themselves?

For convenience, I have outlined Nie MingJue’s 5 year plan here:

Fight a war against a violent sect

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Nie MingJue stayed his hand from murder not once, not twice, but three times when confronted directly with a cold-blooded murderer. He picked suffering Meng Yao/Jin GuangYao to live over easily justifiable back-alley execution. He banged on the doors of Koi Tower demanding Xue Yang be turned over to him, but never used violence to take matters into his own hands, not even when he held Baxia at Xue Yang’s throat and could have ended the discussion right then and there.

The only people Nie MingJue ever killed were nameless cultivators on the battlefield; nameless cultivators when he was being held prisoner in the Sun Palace; and Wen Xu, a declared enemy met on the battlefield. There is no evidence or accusations that he ever killed anyone after the Sunshot Campaign, not at the Burial Mounds and not when he had his qi deviation.

Nie HuaiSang, for his part, could have just stabbed Jin GuangYao in the chest when he was crying on him and be done with it. Violence is easy. Murder is easy.

For the Nie brothers, violence was never necessary, but justice was. And there is no justice if you just become the beast you fought to defeat, so rules and morals must be taken into account.

Nie MingJue decided, on his own, to send Meng Yao back to his father to face justice after the murder of the Jin disciple. Nie HuaiSang worked to expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes and let the world decide on their own whether or not Jin GuangYao’s crimes deserved punishment.

Nie MingJue followed the rules. He played fair. He asked for permission. He talked in private. He made his demands. He was aggressive, but he never killed to get his way. How easy it would have been if he killed to get his way like Jin GuangYao did! But he didn’t. Nie MingJue was good. Nie MingJue died.

Nie HuaiSang picked up where Nie MingJue left off. The letter to Qin Su was just a letter to Qin Su revealing some of Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Jin GuangYao got away with murdering the Jin disciple all those years ago, and now he’s going to get away with direct involvement in the murder of his own child? Or baby-trapping and then marrying his own sister? No, no he is not. And he’s absolutely not getting away with Nie MingJue’s murder or dismemberment.

Nie HuaiSang still never picked violence. He never picked murder. He never told people what to do or how to do it, and he certainly never held a weapon in his hand. That’s the beauty of his revenge.

As the saying goes: the pen is mightier than the sword. He picked letting the information speak for itself and giving other people the option to use violence, but that was never their only option. Sadly, no revenge plan, no matter one taken as seriously as this one, is foolproof when other people are involved. Qin Su and the letter were discovered by Jin GuangYao, who then blackmailed her, imprisoned her, and then pushed her to suicide. This shows the depth of Jin GuangYao’s cruelty. Jin GuangYao reacting in violence is a Jin GuangYao problem.

As another saying goes: do not shoot the messenger. We already saw how the Jin Sect protected and absolved Xue Yang of his well-documented mass murder. Nie HuaiSang would have heard about how Jin GuangYao, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen were all OK with the Jin protecting Xue Yang while Nie MingJue and popular rogue cultivator Xiao XingChen were very much not. In order to make Jin GuangYao face justice, the one choice Nie HuaiSang never had was to stand up and speak out and expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Xiao XingChen tried that with Xue Yang and it got him a fate worse than death. Nie MingJue tried to stand up to the Jin Sect and it got him betrayed and his death to look like an unfortunate event, not even a murder. So instead, Nie HuaiSang got the information out there as secretly as possible and let everyone else decide on what to do with it.

And thankfully everyone agreed with him that Jin GuangYao was trash. No violence was needed to help them see the light. Jin GuangYao made his bed and now he has to sleep in it.

Violence is only a Nie brother final resort when justice is about to be evaded. Nie MingJue is so horrified after the Sun Palace that he’s willing to kill Meng Yao and then himself over the murder of his subordinates. Meng Yao uses the “I saved your life” get-out-of-jail free card, which not only threatens to hold Nie MingJue hostage to a life debt but also means at least two cultivators where killed to save Nie MingJue’s one life. That’s terrible math! Where is the justice in this?? But in case he is in the wrong, Nie MingJue agrees to kill himself too, so justice WILL be served one way or another before Meng Yao runs away again.

Violence and murder are indeed grim tools for a serious duty and they need to be handled respectfully and with resolve! Note how Nie HuaiSang at no point lies and says, “I had no choice.” It was his choice to send the letters, it was his choice to put himself in danger at the Second Burial Mounds Siege and at Guanyin Temple, and it was his choice to save Sisi from her unlawful imprisonment and let her speak on her own behalf. This boy had choices, choices other than violence and murder, and he never victimized himself by claiming otherwise. He never pleaded innocence or passed the blame. He simply dodged the discussion entirely, but the ending shows he knows what he did and why.

Nie HuaiSang, "Wei-xiong, why do you keep on asking me? No matter how much you ask, I don't know anything." With a pause, he continued, "But..." Slowly, Nie HuaiSang brushed together his storm-drenched hair. "I think that if this person hates Jin GuangYao so much, they'd probably be entirely merciless towards something he cherishes more than his life." (Ch. 109, ERS)

Nie HuaiSang has so much conviction that his cavalier attitude after Jin GuangYao's death is so cold that if anyone touched him they would probably be burned. When Nie HuaiSang lies, he says, “I don’t know.” He knows the importance of information and he’s not about to expose himself for having any that might get him killed. Nie HuaiSang’s fight was different than Nie MingJue’s in tone and shape, but Nie HuaiSang kept the same agenda and, frankly, played by the same rules as his Nie MingJue.

Some rules Nie MingJue lives by:

Outside input is important

Don't kill people for the rewards

Have conviction in your choices

Jin GuangYao was in the process of fleeing justice at Guanyin Temple just like he fled justice at Langya. Jin GuangYao laid a trap for Nie MIngJue at Langya and there was no doubt going to be a trap at Guanyin Temple--so Nie HuaiSang sprung one on him first.

“Brother XiChen, behind you!!!” (Ch. 108, ERS)

And the choice to stab Jin GuangYao was Lan XiChen’s, not Nie HuaiSang’s, although Nie HuaiSang was determined to see justice prevail and that treacherous Third Brother brought down.

Of interest, Nie HuaiSang’s ten year agenda:

Expose Jin GuangYao’s violent crimes

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Violence and murder were never on the agenda. They aren’t necessary. They were never necessary. The tragedy is thinking that they might be, and that’s Jin GuangYao’s tragedy, not the Nie brothers. Nie MingJue’s behavior shows a man who thought if he fought hard enough, pushed hard enough, allowed redemption arcs to a murderer, tried to work with people who didn’t want to work with him, peace might find a way.

Violence was only needed because Jin GuangYao could not be stopped in any other way. He burned the brothel down with all the women inside it to hide his past and he tried to massacre the whole cultivation world to hide his crimes. Considering the amount of death the Nie brothers have faced, from family dead from qi deviations to piles of bodies on the battlefield to allies killed to save their lives, I dare say the Nie brothers had a respectful relationship with violence and murder because they wanted to escape the cycle the most.

#anon #asked from above #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jgy vs nmj #nhs vs jgy #nie brothers #mdzs thoughts #there is absolutely NO reason this response needs to be this long #please excuse me anon i'm just full of nie brother feelings all day every day lol

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disastermages · 3 years

Text

[read it on ao3]

“Shijie, how do I make soup?” Wei Wuxian wrestles the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he tries and fails to dig through Lan Zhan’s pots and pans quietly. He needs a stock pot, Wei Wuxian knows that much, and carrots and celery and onions. That’s how Jiang Yanli starts most of her soups, he’s seen her cook and pretended to help her enough times to know that.

On the other end, Wei Wuxian hears Jiang Yanli hum laugh softly, “A-Xian, if you’re hungry, you can just come over, I’ll even send you home with leftovers.” It makes Wei Wuxian smile, but he shakes his head, even though his sister can’t see him.

“It’s not for me, Shijie, Lan Zhan is sick, and I want to make something to help him feel better.” Lan Zhan still hadn’t even admitted to being sick by the time Wei Wuxian had convinced him to lay back down. Lan Zhan had been too tired and too uncertain on his feet to argue, not that he could have stopped Wei Wuxian from putting him to bed.

They were supposed to go out for dinner, but Wei Wuxian had canceled that reservation while he sat beside Lan Zhan, running his fingers through sweat-dampened hair.

“Oh! Well that is different, now isn’t it?” Jiang Yanli’s voice only sounds more amused now, and distantly, Wei Wuxian hears clattering on her side of the phone call, “Do you have chicken broth?”

“Lan Zhan has some vegetable broth from Xichen-ge.” There’d been uncertainty on Lan Zhan’s face the first time he’d told Wei Wuxian that Lan Xichen had taken up cooking, but he was getting better at it.

“That will work just fine, A-Xian.”

Slowly, Jiang Yanli walks her younger brother through the process of making a simple soup, her voice gentle and encouraging, even as she reminds Wei Wuxian not to let the onions and garlic scorch in the pan, because it will make the soup bitter.

“My XianXian is growing up.” Jiang Yanli sounds as if she’s speaking to herself, but it makes Wei Wuxian pause, mushrooms in his hands hovering above the stock pot he’d had to climb half way into Lan Zhan’s cabinets for.

“XianXian is three, he can’t even make soup by himself, he needs his Shijie to hold his hand.” Only when he can laugh at himself does Wei Wuxian finally drop the mushrooms into the soup. Carrots and potatoes roll to the top while the stock boils.

He expects Jiang Yanli to play along with him just like she always does, he waits for her to insist that he’s only a year old, but instead she pauses, though not unkindly. “A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli sounds more serious than Wei Wuxian has heard her in a very long time, “you’re making soup for Lan Wangji because you care for him, right? You’re going to want to add some rosemary now, there’s no need to cut it, just make sure you pull out the sprig after the soup has simmered.”

Wei Wuxian dutifully adds the rosemary, the smell of it spreading through his chest and widening like warmth, “Of course I care for him! He’s my… He’s my Lan Zhan.” They hadn’t named whatever it was that they’re doing, but it’s true enough, isn’t it? Lan Zhan is Wei Wuxian’s Lan Zhan. “Do I need to add anything else?”

“You can add some tofu if you like. When you found out he was sick, did you have to think about it, or did you just go right into taking care of him?”

Reluctantly, Wei Wuxian steps away from the stove long enough to look inside Lan Zhan’s fridge for the tofu, jars and bottles clinking in both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli’s ears while Wei Wuxian pulls the tofu out of a stack with one hand. The soup is still on the stove, unscorched and free of ruin when Wei Wuxian comes back to it.

“I just did it, I guess, I wanted to.” He hadn’t been able to find Lan Zhan’s thermometer and Lan Zhan couldn’t stay awake long enough to tell him where it was, so in the end, Wei Wuxian had kissed Lan Zhan’s forehead and found him to be burning with fever. He’d taken off his leather jacket and set to work trying to take care of Lan Zhan after that.

“You’ll need to cut the tofu, but don’t make it too small.” There’s the light, metallic tapping of Jiang Yanli’s tasting spoon against her stockpot, still spotless, but far more used than Lan Zhan’s. Wei Wuxian nods again and picks up the knife he’d pulled out of Lan Zhan’s kitchen drawers, his sister had told him to find one that felt right in his hand. Wei Wuxian cannot see Jiang Yanli, but he knows that she’s thinking hard about something, her nose wrinkling slightly and her mouth pulling into that small, thoughtful frown.

“A-Xian, do you know that I’m proud of you?” The chunks of tofu land in the pot with wet plops, but Jiang Yanli doesn’t give her brother the chance to ask her what she’s proud of, “I know you don’t like cooking, and you say that you don’t know how to care for someone who’s sick, but you’re trying very hard for Lan Wangji. You could have called Lan Xichen, and he would have come running over to take care of him, but you’ve done it without a second thought. You are growing up, and you’re growing up well.”

“Shijie,” Wei Wuxian starts, but he can’t finish, something big is blocking his throat and making his eyes sting, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“You’ll need to let the soup simmer for a while before you can serve it, keep it stirred, and in the meantime, you should do the dishes and clean up any messes you made while you were cooking.” Jiang Yanli’s own voice sounds wobbly and emotional, now, but it doesn’t mask the pride shining like the sun through storm clouds. “You should serve it to Lan Wangji with some crackers, or maybe toast, it’ll settle his stomach a little.”

Finally, Wei Wuxian can speak, a smile spreading slowly across his face, “Should I call you and ask you how to make toast?”

Jiang Yanli laughs at the joke and sets the lid onto her own pot, “Xianxian could blacken the toast completely, and I think Lan Wangji might still eat it, but only because you made it for him.”

They only talk for a while longer before they both hang up and Wei Wuxian starts to clean up his messes, chasing after thin, wispy onion skins with the broom and wiping down spills that have long since hardened while he was too busy to clean them. He looks in on Lan Zhan, still sleeping, and digs through the cabinets again to find the tea Lan Zhan only drinks on special occasions.

There’s nothing left for Wei Wuxian to do after the tea is brewed and steeped, so he sets about gathering up a tray, taking care to slice the toast into crustless triangles, just the way he’d seen Jiang Yanli do for him and Jiang Cheng when they were younger. With his hands full, Wei Wuxian is grateful that he’d left Lan Zhan’s door open just a crack, though he still kicks it closed as gently as he can.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian calls, setting the tray down on the empty side of the bed, his side of the bed, to lean over Lan Zhan and shake him gently, “it’s time to wake up, Lan Zhan.” He knows he shouldn’t, but he still fixes a kiss to Lan Zhan’s temple, and then his cheek. Lan Zhan wakes up slowly, his eyes still heavy and his skin somehow paler, even as he stares up at Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Ying.” The roughness of Lan Zhan’s voice digs itself right into Wei Wuxian’s heart, and for one moment his smile falters.

“I made you something special, Lan Zhan, it’s going to help you feel better.” Wei Wuxian pulls the tray into his own lap, but Lan Zhan looks at it doubtfully, though he still makes the effort to try and smell it.

“Wei Ying made this?” He asks, and Wei Wuxian beams. He hadn’t burned anything or added too much spice, the broth hadn’t even turned red.

“I called Shijie for help, but I did all the work by myself, I even cleaned the kitchen after I was done.” The statement is half meant to brag, and half meant to settle any worries Lan Zhan might have about a mess left behind in the kitchen.The way his eyes widened minutely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Lan Zhan takes the spoonfuls carefully as Wei Wuxian offers them to him, bleary eyes still glancing up at Wei Wuxian, disbelief mixed with something else that Wei Wuxian can’t name, but it fills him with hope.

“Wei Ying should not have gone to so much trouble, I cannot taste it.” Lan Zhan admits once the bowl is finished, his hand drifting towards Wei Wuxian’s knee. There’s guilt building up on Lan Zhan’s face like storm clouds, dark and heavy, before Wei Wuxian covers Lan Zhan’s hand with his own, thumb swiping back and forth in a quiet attempt at comfort.

“I wanted to do it, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian says softly, lifting Lan Zhan’s hand up and kissing it quick, “You know you can’t stop me or change my mind when I decide that I want to do something.” Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop Lan Zhan when he decided he truly wanted to do something either, but Wei Wuxian doesn’t bring that up now, not as he sets his other hand onto Lan Zhan’s back to guide him to lay on his shoulder.

Lan Zhan’s arms wrap around Wei Wuxian’s neck easily, the movements comfortable and automatic.

“Wei Ying will get sick like this.” Lan Zhan insists, his voice stubborn and childish, even as he makes no attempt to pull away, if anything, his arms tighten.

“If I do, will Lan Er-gege take care of me?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan’s answer is automatic and unquestioning. Wei Wuxian buries his face in Lan Zhan’s hair for it, breathing in the scent buried underneath sweat and sick. “Will Wei Ying make more soup later?”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t stop himself from laughing before he gives Lan Zhan another kiss, this time pressed to his jaw. “You don’t know how much soup I made, Lan Zhan, I can warm it up for you as many times as you want.” He’d made too much, really, but Jiang Yanli had said that was normal.

“I want to be able to taste your cooking.” Lan Zhan insists, and Wei Wuxian kisses him again, on his forehead and on both of his cheeks.

“You will, Lan Zhan, you won’t be sick forever.” It was only a cold, or maybe a flu, but Lan Zhan will get better, Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Wei Wuxian knows that he should get up and he should wash the dishes that they’d used, but when he tries, Lan Zhan only holds onto him tighter and refuses to look at Wei Wuxian for a long moment. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

“I will, Lan Zhan, I will.”

Wei Wuxian would stay as long as Lan Zhan would have him.

He would take care of him as long as he was allowed to.

#cql #mdzs #mdzs fic #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang yanli #wei ying #lan zhan #wwx #lwj #jyl #the untamed #theuntameddaily

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tangledinmdzs · 3 years

Text

dream a little dream - jiang bros hcs

jiang bros carrying you to bed

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Wei Wuxian　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Wei Wuxian had never quite liked to sleep early,

finding his ideas flowing the best in the late hours of the night

Wei Wuxian is used to the tightness that sometimes accompanies his eyes on long nights of scroll reading,

drafting this, drawing that

and with you to bounce ideas off,

it is easy for the hours of night to pass and blend away,

for so much discourse and thoughts that make him wish that sleepiness were not a human feeling

but alas it is,

and when Wei Wuxian had returned to the room with a new warm brew of tea,

with the intent of continuing his late night talk with you

he finds you fast asleep, head pillowed on arms that had finally given up the weight of holding your head up for the past hour or so

(Wei Wuxian knew you had been sleepy, but somehow, loves the sight of you almost reanimated as you talk about new to cultivation techniques and everything he had always been curious about)

Wei Wuxian is quiet when he approaches your sleeping form, tempted to shake you awake

a small probe of your shoulder, tells him that you are truly deeply, asleep

judging from the greyish hues of the sky,

it would be morning soon anyways

Wei Wuxian turns back to you, curious as to how you could possibly be comfortable

and before he really thinks about it (thinks too much about it)

he maneuvers your sleeping form into his arms,

your head falls onto his shoulder, fitting right under his chin like you were always meant to fit there,

and your breath is soft and warm as he carries you the few short steps to place you on the bed in the other room,

Wei Wuxian watches with a funny kind of fondness when you snuggle into the pillows as he pulls the blankets higher up on your chin

finds that when he returns to sit at his table and closes his eyes

he sees you in his dreams

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Jiang Cheng　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

above you both, the sky stretches out like a dark blanket,

bits of embedded stars glimmer

and the world seems so vast in this moment

it is a sight to behold

and the day’s tiredness bleeds away from his shoulders,

when Jiang Cheng sits at the open port,

with you leaning close to him,

staring up at the same sky

you, the person that had always extended a hand to him,

tried to see what he was seeing,

what he meant,

the person that always met him in the middle,

even at times, when he didn’t always walk towards you

you never gave up on him

and it was a gradual but deep reassurance

that came over him like the way snow falls to the ground

“i love you,” Jiang Cheng says, a testament, a confession that finally comes out of his mouth after years and years

Jiang Cheng says it in a bit of an absent way, only because he doesn’t know how you react,

scared that everything will change with this one step too far

but when Jiang Cheng hears nothing, and turn to the side

he only see you, eyes closed, head resting warmly on the side of his shoulder

it makes him smile despite himself,

and although the night sky is beautiful, the changing seasons make the evening a bit colder than usual

so even though you don’t hear those words from him (yet)

you receive an action with the same meaning,

his arms coming up to gently cradle you, and carry you away from the ports back to you room,

where each step is quiet, mindful, not to wake you

and when he tucks you under the covers, it is with more care than anyone has ever expected of him

but you (only you) know

that Jiang Cheng has more than enough love

more than most would know

#mdzs #mdzs self inserts #mdzs wei wuxian x reader #mdzs jiang cheng x reader #mdzs jiang siblings #mdzs yunmeng bros #mdzs imagines #mdzs scenarios #mdzs reader insert #mdzs reaction #jiang cheng x reader #wwx x reader #the untamed x reader #cql x reader #tangledwriting

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she-sails-below · 3 years

Text

The child is very young.

The child is so young, in fact, that it is difficult to distinguish color from sound, warmth from texture, voice from heartbeat. The world is a distorted thing, it expands and narrows - is at once small and so very large. The child cannot track night and day, dark and light, moon and sun - indeed, can hardly focus its eyes to tell. But the child can well remember.

There are things from before that used to take up all the space in this child’s world which now have ceased to be. A deep, gentle voice which once rumbled through the child’s body in a calming wave - large, warm hands against its face. Gold like sunlight. A speck of red. Dark, adoring eyes.

The child remembers another voice, soft and happy like the birdsong from the gardens, the chiming of the bell gripped in its tiny fist. The smell of flowers in bloom. The warmth of spring. The child had known then, deep in its bones - its being - that this was Mother. The child knows now, in its tiny fledgling heart, that Mother is gone.

The world shifts and spins, and the child drifts in its tide - a new voice every time it wakes, a new hand, a new face. The child aches for what it has lost. It does not understand why its world has changed so quickly and so completely. The sounds are all wrong, the shapes all blending together. The child wails for large warm hands, screams for what was Mother.

And then, relief.

The world slows. Large warm hands hold the child close. A low voice hums from beneath, and the smell of spring once again fills the child's nose, with a touch of rain. The rain tastes bitter, like salt.

It is not perfect. It is not what was lost. But it is close. A soft voice lulls the child to sleep. Large warm hands hold the child close and never let go.

~.~

The child's name is A-Ling, and A-Ling is three.

The colors of Lotus Pier’s vibrant summer blur around him as he runs, painted under a blanket of sunlight, bright and blinding in his dark eyes. It is A-Ling’s second summer in the birthplace of Mother, but it is the earliest one he will remember in the distant years to come.

His little feet ring hollow across the pale warm wood of the bridges and walkways which piece Lotus Pier together, bouncing off the rippling water below and echoing across a river in bloom. He does not know where he is going, only that anywhere he goes he will be okay - because Jiu-Jiu lives here, and wherever Jiu-Jiu is, A-Ling is always safe.

As the summer sun glints across the water, shifting and flashing amongst the lotuses, A-Ling slows to a stop and turns his face away, gazing instead to the very end of the pier. There, beneath the shelter of a pale wood pavilion stands a familiar shadow, spine straight and shoulders tense, staring out across the river as the lavender silk drapes twist and brush against his robes in the breeze. The pavilion is far removed from the rest of Lotus Pier, quiet and isolated - the perfect place to sit and watch the lotuses bloom.

A-Ling has been here many times himself, to sit and play alone in the shade when the duties of the day take up the attention of his caregivers and the child is left to himself. They scold him for wandering so far, when they find him. He keeps going back.

A-Ling has never seen his Jiu-Jiu here before.

Heart overflowing with excitement, A-Ling thinks perhaps his Jiu-Jiu has come to play with him, and scampers across the wood with a wide grin. He does not stop until he has collided with the solid pillar of his uncle’s leg, wrapping his little arms around it and pressing his face into layers of violet silk.

But A-Ling’s Jiu-Jiu does not move. Confused, he lifts his head, gripping violet robes tightly in his fists. His Jiu-Jiu stares out across the river, unmoving, and even as young as he is, A-Ling has long learned to recognize the weight in his expression, as if the world was pressing down on him - unheard and unseen, but so very heavy.

‘Jiu-Jiu is raining,’ he thinks. After a moment, he feels gentle hands on his head, running through his hair. Long into the afternoon, A-Ling will hug his uncle tight, and never let go.

~.~

The child’s name is Jin Ling, and Jin Ling is twelve.

The forest is calm in the hushing dusk, but the quiet is a tense creature, deadly still. Three feet away lies his father’s sword, two feet away is the creature which had nearly killed him, and gripping his arm hard enough to bruise is his uncle.

Jiang Cheng stands as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed into deadly focus. There’s a wild look to him - in the way his hair frames his face, in the pinch of his brow - something almost desperate. Jin Ling dips his head, shame coiling in his gut. The gash on his leg from the creature’s claws stings, but he ignores it.

He swallows thickly. “Uncle,” he begins, “I’m so-“

“Stupid boy,” Jiang Cheng hisses, jerking his arm once, twice. “Don’t you realize what could have - ”

“Sorry,” Jin Ling says again, staring at the ground.

Slowly, the fingers digging into his arm loosen, become nearly soft. Then they pull, urging him up. “Come on, then,” Jiang Cheng says, gruff and unpleasant, but not unkind. “Let’s get a healer to look at that.”

As Jin Ling stands unsteadily, his uncle’s arm winds around him in support, strong and immovable as a stubborn old tree, it’s roots anchored deep. Jin Ling clutches back, leans against his shoulder just enough to notice their slight tremble, and lets himself relax into his hold. He never lets go.

~.~

The child’s name is Jin-Zongzhu, and at just sixteen, the title weighs upon his shoulders alongside heavy ornate robes much too large for his small frame to fill.

The world has tossed and heaved once more, pulled out from under him in one sharp tug he hadn’t been able to foresee. All at once, he’d lost an uncle he thought had loved him, had gained an uncle who loved him all along, and had an entire sect in turmoil thrust into his inexperienced hands.

Amongst it all, the uncle he’s always known drifts, as if lost. It is humbling, Jin Ling thinks, to know he’s not the only one who’s entire world has been thrown off center in past weeks. Sandu Shengshou, always the piller, always so tall and proud and unstoppable, could not stand fast against the tide of truth.

His uncle stands before him now, having watched as he was ceremoniously given the title which chains him down, gray eyes deep and unreadable. Jin Ling thinks he’s never seen his severe face look so raw, so full of emotion. Not since they had stood and watched as Wei Wuxian walked away, disappearing into the world as suddenly as he had entered it.

Jin Ling stands up straighter - wants to be strong, steady, something his uncle can be proud of. With a deep, steadying breath, he bows, as perfect as he can manage in all the heavy finery of his robes. “Jiang-Zongzhu - ”

He breaks off with a sharp gasp as he is roughly pulled into a bone crushing hug. Suddenly, he is not Jin Ling, nor is he Jin-Zongzhu. Suddenly, he is -

“A-Ling,” his uncle says quietly into his hair, gripping the back of his neck to hold him in place. A long moment passes wherein Jin Ling can hardly bring himself to breathe in fear of ruining the moment, can hardly blink for fear that it will have been in his head all along. He cannot remember the last time his uncle hugged him.

“Your mother would be proud,” his uncle says, and just like that, Jin Ling’s careful diligence melts away.

With a half-choked sob, he throws his arms around his uncle, gripping the back of his robes as tightly as he can and burying his face into a violet shoulder. “Jiu-Jiu,” he gasps, and finds he is unable to say anything else.

The child is young and fragile, but strong arms hold him tight.

The child is three and naive, but the man he clings to will always be there for him.

The child is twelve and careless, and the hands who hold him up will always protect him.

The child is sixteen, is a man, is just three again, and his uncle will be there - has been there - for all of it, always.

“I’m proud of you.” Just four words, whispered into his hair, and Jin Ling’s world stops spinning, slowly rights itself again.

“I know,” he says, and breathes.

Soon, this will end. Soon, his uncle will leave, and Jin Ling will be left to Lanling alone. But for now… for now, he holds him tightly, holds him close, and never lets go.

~.~

My drabble Never Let Go, originally from Ao3.

#mxtx #mdzs #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #cql fanfic #my wriring #jiang cheng #jin ling #mini character study of sorts

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