#traveler lwj

[sasukimimochi]

WIP - Stormy Seas (Merxian/Traveler!LWJ AU)

got a few yes's to show a wip for this so i'm here to deliver ♥✨

lwj got a bit bonked so merxian gotta help his future husband

Merji/Travelerji WIP Wangxian Prompt 1 WIP Merxian sketch / Merxian 1 (nudity & wips included) Merxian 2 (sfw) / Merxian 3 (B&W) Wangxian Prompt 1 cont. sketch (related to this sketch)

-

I created these two mermay au's for the mermay prompts i'm going to write.

Check out more art of this/other MDZS Projects on my masterpost! ❤

[sinfulpatata]

meeting your past self be like:

yllz: midget.

mxy!wwx: virgin.

lwj, being smothered by tits: mn.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rayan12sworld]

💠💙Back to the Seasons of My Youth

By:desiccations, orphan_account, Potatoes_Radishes, Vrishchika

Summary:

Lan Wangji finds himself time- and dimension-traveling, but he really just wants to be back with his husband.

Chapter:1/1

Words:14,415

Status:completed

"What is my role here? In Cloud Recesses?"

"You are a beloved teacher. Shufu handed off many of his classes to you.”

"You lead the nighthunts with the juniors and you have your own place to experiment. You dabble in new forms of musical cultivation,"

"Your inventions used well over the cultivation world"

"Wei Ying is Gusu Lan's most valuable cultivator,"

"He is uncle's most valuable nephew in law, he appreciates your wisdom,"

"Brother loves having you around for tea, he delights in your company,"

You are Sizhui's father, he adores your presence, you loved to bury him in soil and claim it helps him grow taller and stronger." He smiles slightly, his face flushing as Wangji brings Wei Ying's ribbon to his lips maintaining eye contact, "And you are my beloved husband, my Wei Ying, forever.”

~

He raises a hand and brushes a warm cheek tenderly, running a thumb along the smooth skin, "You are free, Wei Ying. There are no debts or chains holding you here. You remain because you wish to, because you love and are loved in return. This is your home." He lifts the ribbon and caresses the cloud motif on it carefully, "A Lan in heart and spirit."

~~

"He is ours now because we were fortunate. Do not take that for granted. He will make enemies. He will sacrifice his entire being before he compromises on his honor or morality. He loves me beyond anything and even I cannot sway him away from the righteous path. If he must face the world to save a few innocent souls, he will do it. He has done it."

~~

"He is... lively." Wangji huffs in amusement, "Lively, bright, more beautiful than either of us can bear, certainly. But-" He hides a small smile behind his cup, "He yields beautifully to us." Lan Zhan's ears turn red, "He seems too free-spirited to... yield."

[angstymdzsthoughts]

LXC commits suicide after canon. LWJ goes back in time somehow and goes straight for JGY's throath for causing his brother so much anguish. LWJ now has to:

-Deal with the repercussions of killing xiandu in public

-Dealing with his very confused, hurt and devastated brother

-Deal with the realization that he has doomed himself and WWX bc NHS has no reason to manipulate MXY into the sacrifice if JGY is already dead

[sandumilfshou]

does anyone ever stare at a gif of cql lan wangji and remember what wang yibo is like irl and just be like. how th efuck. ho w . HOW. and just kind of blue screen because

[rnmyn]

POV. You’re HGJ reunited with your WY and a smol plushie version of you is living your dreams.

Listen. The CQL LWJ Minidoll has a pout and was staring at me from its perch and it was 5AM ㅠㅠ

—

support me on ko-fi ☆

[flowersdiceandlove]

The burial mounds, a place of mystery, the place of the dead, cannot be comprehended by humans. It is a place warped by time and resentful energy and the intentions of those who inhabit it and who knows what else. It is sentient and has a strong will of its own. It’s said that no one can leave the Burial Mounds, and that is true as much as it’s not. The burial mounds keeps what is theirs; protects what is theirs. No one can escape from the Burial Mounds bc more often than not, once you enter, the Burial Mounds see you as theirs. It does not take well to people hurting and taking what is theirs. (And, maybe this is why a certain demonic cultivator was able to survive and leave that place. Maybe he understood this will and resentment bc he too would do anything to protect those he loves. For him as well, once he considers someone family, they are family. And nothing will change that. No matter what happens, his family is his family, and those under his protection are fully under his protection. They can see a kindred spirit in each other, and so the Burial Mounds let him go, knowing that he will always carry part of the Burial Mounds with him. The souls in his sleeves and the resentful energy he welcomes into his body. The boon that the Burial Mounds grants him.)

It is for these reasons that WWX knows to bring the Wen remnants there. Not only does he know he can defend them if needed in that place teeming with resentment, he knows the Burial Mounds themselves will protect them. It protects its own, and the Burial Mounds knows these people that WWX brought are his, so they are its. It’s as simple as that. And, the Burial Mounds likes it. It likes having these people here, milling about and carving a life on it. It likes how they turns its soil from barren to fruitful. It likes how they are happy and content. It likes being their home and haven. It will do anything to protect them.

When the first siege comes, the Burial Mounds try to protect what is theirs. These people who have made a home on it. But, they are all grieving deeply, and it’s beautiful child, the first to even understand them and want to make peace with them instead of destroying them, is breaking apart. He is breaking apart with the weight of someone who could not protect that which is most precious to him. And he has been breaking with this weight for months now, every day chipping another piece of himself away, every day pulling further and further into himself, every day driving him just a little more insane. The Burial Mounds have no problem with madness. They will still embrace him fully and without question, but it pains them to see him like this. They are all breaking under the pressure of what the world outside its borders do. This is no longer their haven, but now their place of imminent doom. It is only a matter of time until the cultivators attack. The Burial Mounds fights back as it always does to protect those that are its. But, some of these living cultivators attacking are family of WWX and it cannot attack family. And, it knows that even should he wipe all these harmful intruders out, that will not stop more from coming, and more after that. The Burial Mounds would fight every wave they send, but that is not the issue. The issue is that its people are grieving and breaking. The issue is that it cannot do anything to fix that and every attack will break their spirits just that much more.

So instead, the Burial Mounds decide to change it. As the cultivators pour in, the Burial Mounds pulls its energy from defending and into charging its intention.  Some of its people get cut down, but that is fine, it will still work, they do not have to be alive. Just as WWX is about to destroy the Stygian Tiger Amulet (oh, and look at their brave boy, but don’t do that, my child, it will tear you apart) a large pulse of resentful energy ripples out over the battlefield, shaking the ground and seeping into all that is theirs. The air and ground starts to ripple, unstable and warping like swirls of marble, until none can stay standing in this odd happening, toppling over, nauseous from the swirling. Those that are theirs are sucked into the soil, deep into its power, and it embraces them into its depths.

Then—

They open their eyes.

WWX is seven, on the streets of Yiling, and turns his head to the Burial Mounds so close by, calling to him. Come home, my child, it whispers. Come to me; I will protect you.

Wen Ning is eight and Wen Qing 14. They also look in the direction of Yiling—of the Burial Mounds. They too hear the call. There are gasps rippling around their home, and people bursting through doors, embracing each other, crying in joy. Eyes flick around at everyone. They know. All those that were on the Burial Mounds, as well as Wen Qing and Wen Ning remember. They know what Wen Ruohan is planning. They also know what will happen to their real family.

They go to Yiling. Just a few at first. They lost many people in their branch before they were saved by WWX, and those people are more than hesitant to go to that cursed place. Those that remember can’t simply leave them to their fates again. So, some go, while some stay. They will convince the rest later. When they arrive at the base of the Burial Mounds, there is already a large collapse in the wall surrounding it looking to be made recently. The paths open up for them as they start their ascent. The path is just as they remember, the corpses and spirits howling, but leaving them be. They know they are already part of them. Granny Wen and Wen Qing are at the front of the group, leading the way. Wen Qing wishes her brother was there, but that was not something their parents would budge on. They barely let her go, and only because Granny was insisting as well and promised to look after her.

They reach the clearing where their homes were, and there they are. Their little shacks that barely stay standing. The patches of land they’d tilled and toiled over. And there, perched on a tree stump by the side of the road is a boy, even smaller than A-Ning, covered in dirt and grime that can’t all be from the Burial Mounds, spinning a black, bamboo dizi in his tiny hands. He watches them with shining eyes and a large smile they’d know anywhere breaks out on his face, then—

He laughs. The boy laughs loud and clear and bright as he topples off the stump in his joy. Many of them join in the laughter as well. Amazed and in disbelief. Wen Qing, granny, and a few others rush over to the little Wei Wuxian and pull him into a crushing embrace. The laughter soon turns to wracking sobs as they all cling to each other and let it all sink in. 

They are alive. They are together.

And, they will make sure it stays that way.

The Burial Mounds hum around them, welcoming them home.

[bnnywngs]

you know how graffiti was always a thing in society? as in "since roman times"

so when wei wuxian time travels to the time he was at gusu classes, instead of violence, he uses graffiti around nightless city and qishan as whole to make a anti wen ruohan propaganda

"can you make everything in one night?" asks wen qing after a whole two days contemplating what she heard from this young master's mouth

"i can try" wei wuxian shrugs

wen qing stares at him "train here in the village before putting your plan into practice"

"fine"

and then one morning, a week or so after that, three enormous murals are painted in the central square/road near where the main wen family lives, one with wen mal saying one of his precepts, the second showing wen ruohan's tyranny, and the last one a child asking when their forefathers's words started to be considered meaningless

everyone around the jianghu talks about it, specially the jins, who starts to spread rumors so it could be a advantageous situation for them

a civil war starts to brew in qishan, who closes their borders, few to no news come from there (wei wuxian is one of the few people who knows what's going on because of his newest invention - a communication talisman)

and that's how the jianghu is saved with little lives lost (unless you want to mourn wen ruohan, his sons and wen zhuliu, and whoever supports their actions) (unfortunately, jin guangshan isn't included in this... this time 😌 ask wei wuxian again in a year)

[digitalstowaway]

Thinking about toddler jl who sees his parents who make a real effort to communicate and speak kind words and make sure to take time to tell jl how much they love him

vs when he's with jiujiu and jiujiu's boyfriend. Nhs and jc's love language is screaming and (for nhs) crying and threats of suicide

Jin Ling one evening tells Jiang Yanli when he's been denied an extra cookie, "mama, if I don't have another cookie I will kill myself."

Nhs and jc are allowed only supervised visits for a month after that

[alolanlan]

what if all the mxtx series happened in the same world? id think the timeline would work like this:

1. tgcf starts. and by starts i mean starts at the beginning in xianle. everything pre 800 year timeskip happens, then in the next 800 years,

2. MDZS happens. a good 300-400 years post-fall of xianle, sects are centered around clans. the MDZS babygirls do their thing and while wangxian are out there living their post-canon domestic bliss life, the ideals of xiao xingchen and song lan catch on - specifically with the ones who lost faith in the system of clan-based sects (ones like mianmian). new sects, ones based on merit and not bloodlines, emerge and overtake the traditional sects in popularity (the traditional sects either merge with the new sects or fade away over the years. except for the jin, somehow they stay there and eventually form the huan hua palace sect, ugh.)

3. 800 years pass and xie lian ascends once more! the events of tgcf take place and hualian live their immortal lives in domestic bliss. but oh no, messing with the heavens does something to create a fracture in the world, revealing a second world of demonic beings that use not resentful or spiritual energy, but demonic energy. the two worlds merge. to combat this, the gods of tgcf patron different sects and pass down some of their teachings. more cultivators are able to reach immortality, which leads to

4. svsss!!

[sasukimimochi]

🏴‍☠️🎶🌕 - tiny-fox-queen (pirate flag, music notes, full moon)

Travelerji/Merxian AU See the first three prompts here.

Warnings: implied violence, implied kidnapping, injury/blood mention.

-

Full Moon Shanty

Wei Wuxian felt too heavy, it was hard to even lift his head.

“So you refuse to cry, huh? Don't you want to show your true self?” The pirate donned in golds and dark browns lifted the merman’s chin; the urge to rip his head away and bite the fucker’s hand was an immediate response but the merman was so tired after being treated so roughly that he just leveled him with a glare instead.

Refusing to say anything to the detestable pirate, he turned his head away with as much force as he could muster. The pirate tsked and let him, standing up and brushing his hands off as if having touched something quite disgusting. “Alright. Think about it a bit longer then.” He adjusted his hat and left him there in the brig, bruised and bleeding.

He heard the pirate crew cheer once more and break out into a sea shanty soon after, deceivingly joyous. Wei Wuxian had once enjoyed the far-off sound of a sea shanty; now he wasn’t sure he’d ever see it the same way again.

🎵 Here's a health to the dear lass, that I love so well,

For her style and her beauty, sure none can excel,

There's a smile on her countenance, as she sits on my knee,

There's no man in this wide world, as happy as me 🎵

He lifted his head, staring at the nearest crack in the boards to the sky. Seeing the moon shine so brightly into the darkness of the brig, he felt a renewed desire to move- to escape.

🎵 Here's a health to the company, and one to my lass

Let us drink and be merry, all out of one glass 

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain

For we may or might never, all meet here again 🎵

The merman took a deep breath and grimaced as his arms changed, shifting into ethereal, shimmering blues and slipping through the chains that had once held him up against the wall and nearly falling to the floor once he had. He winced and rubbed his wrists, panting quietly as he listened to the sailors cheer and sing, eventually getting up to check the brig and see if there was some way he could get out.

🎵 Our ship lies at anchor, she's ready to dock 

I wish her safe landing, without any shock 🎵

Finding a small crack in the hull, he glanced back and around one more time to make sure no one was there before his body shifted, spilling like water through the cracks and back into the sea. 

🎵 If ever I should meet you, by land or by sea

I will always remember, your kindness to me 🎵

He swam and swam and swam, the sound of their voices disappearing past the waves of water. All he could think about was to return to his traveler’s shadows. to rest.

Here's a health to the company, and one to my lass

Let us drink and be merry, all out of one glass 

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain

For we may or might never, 

all meet here again 🎵

Lan Wangji lifted his head and shielded his eyes from the sun, staring out over the glistening waters with a frown.

He hadn’t been finding nearly as much lately. Usually, he found shells, stones, pearls, and all sorts of fantastic things. He always hoped it was his faceless savior, and…well, now he was hoping it wasn’t.

He folded his arms over his knees and watched the sea foam over the shore, worry heavy in his chest.

Check out other MDZS Projects on my masterpost! ❤

Merji/Travelerji WIP Wangxian Prompt 1 WIP Merxian sketch / Merxian 1 (nudity & wips included) Merxian 2 (sfw) Merxian 3 (B&W) Wangxian Prompt 1 cont. sketch

-

I created these two mermay au's for mermay prompts i'm writing. (check back to the prompt list for updates)

[stiltonbasket]

I've been thinking about Wen!wuxian all day. How do Yu zhenghong and Li Shuai know wen-wuxian? Did they meet at cloud Recesses too?

Wen Ruohan started sending Wei Wuxian on diplomatic errands when he was 15, so he befriended Li Shuai, YZH, and the rest of the Jiang crew over the course of several discussion conferences/ festivals/trade councils at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian had allies in most of the major and minor sects by the time WRH closed his own borders and started annexing territory from his neighbors, so he began plotting against Wen Ruohan as soon as WRH's sanity appeared to take a downward turn.

[thenecromantic]

So many time travel au Lan Wangji's going and meeting Teenji, what about a one where Wei Wuxian goes back in time and meets Teenxian.

WWX: Do you think Lan Zhan's sword is impressive?

TWWX: Yes! And he handles it with such skill! *heart eyes*

WWX: Speaking of handles... *whispering*

TWWX: I put it WHERE?!

WWX: Yep! And you like it! But not as much as when Lan Zhan... *whispering*

[rayan12sworld]

💠💙A Matter of Time

By:mrcformoso

Summary:

When Lan Wangji went back in time to the first time he met Wei Wuxian, he thought it would be on their spar on the rooftops. He thought of how much he would have to change their interactions through the Cloud Recesses, how he would have to find a way to split Wei Wuxian from the Jiangs…

But when he came to his body, he found himself holding out a toy drum to a little child, a little A-Ying, in the streets of Yilling.

'Huh.' Lan Wangji thought as the little boy smiled up at him. 'This will be easier than I thought.'

 

Or: After Wei Wuxian’s death, something broke in Lan Wangji. He would do anything to get the love of his life back, safely in his arms. Even rewrite history.

Chapter:8/8

Words:41,251

Status:Completed

Author's tumbr:@mrcformoso

(Part 1)

💠💙A Matter of Choice

By:mrcformoso

Summary:

Things have been moving so fast and in so many different directions that Wei Ying never got a chance to sit down and settle, to think. It was only now, now that the war had ended, and they have returned home that Wei Ying felt the weight on his shoulders, the gravity of the situation.

Wei Ying’s mind was clashing, fighting and tripping over itself. Two vastly different childhoods wrestled in his soul, experiences and traumas he never thought of in years reared its ugly head. Not only that, but he knows what – or who – was behind it all. He knows the end goal. He knows the role he plays.

He has one year before his marriage. One year before he makes his choice.

Or: After the Sunshot Campaign, during the one year before his marriage to Lan Zhan, the barriers in Wei Ying’s mind fell and he must reconcile the aftereffects of regaining his memories, alongside the knowledge that his choice will decide the fate of the cultivation world.

Chapter:1/1

Words:17,624

Status:Completed

(Part 2)

[gravitywonagain]

rounding out my depressing little triptych with lwj's pov

[dialog only] [wwx's pov]

[M, 4k, 1/1, Wangxian]

Tags: Major Character Death, suicide, suicide by zhiji (but, like, softly?), time travel, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, I’m not going to lie this is all angst, not a happy ending (i’ve added a tiny consolation ending but it’s not really enough here)

--

There is a cave. Lan Wangji spotted it as he flew to Yiling once, so long ago. Too long ago. Maybe if he’d returned earlier, maybe if he’d stayed--

There is a cave. 

Lan Wangji knows his core is spinning low; he feels the pulse of it struggling through his meridians, qi sluggish and dwindling. His body droops, too heavy for his bones to carry. Bichen’s tip wavers where he points it. The descent, when he makes it, is fast. 

In his arms, Wei Ying is light as feathers. 

The cave is easy enough to find. Too easy, probably, to be safe for very long. But it’s his only option now. 

They cannot go back to Yiling. They cannot seek refuge among any of the sects, even his own. They cannot hide within a town, among people who could be hurt by the black, curling resentment leaking out of Wei Ying’s skin. And he could not leave Wei Ying where he was to die. 

The cave is deeper than Lan Wangji had anticipated, which is good. He carries Wei Ying inside, steps light and as even as he can make them. 

Darkness swallows them whole. 

He lays Wei Ying gently down upon the rough stone floor. Considers pillowing Wei Ying’s head in his lap -- like the last time they were in a dark cave together, qi and confessions flowing between them. But he doesn’t have the qi to spare this time. Depleted. He’ll have to settle for confessions alone. 

Somewhere deeper in, water drips into a pool. The sound of it bounces off the stone, echoing along the tunnels. 

Lan Wangji folds himself into a meditative pose and times his breath with the rhythm of it. If he can rebuild some of his spent qi, he can pass some to Wei Ying. He can protect Wei Ying if others find them here. He can get Wei Ying out, hide him somewhere--

“Did you see them, Lan Zhan? Did you see?”

He hadn’t noticed Wei Ying waking. Hadn’t heard the change in his breath, or pulse. Both are still so slow. So deathly slow. 

“Wei Ying--”

“United in their hate.”

Wei Ying sounds so tired. So fed up with the world, and who would blame him for it? 

Well… 

Lan Wangji feels anger and remorse thick in his throat. He says, “Let me--” But Wei Ying cuts him off again. 

“But they were united.”

He sighs with something that sounds like… hope. Relief, perhaps. Which makes little sense. 

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying shifts, turning to look at Lan Wangji, his smile barely visible through the blood and bruises in the low light of the cave. It is still the most beautiful expression Lan Wangji has ever seen. 

His voice is softer when he says, “It doesn’t work if there’s no villain, Lan Zhan. This world doesn’t work if there’s no one to hate.”

United, he’d said. 

But it still doesn’t make sense. With no other recourse, Lan Wangji says as much, “I don’t understand.”

But Wei Ying doesn’t answer him this time. He doesn’t explain. He rolls his head so his eyes are pointed up at the cave ceiling. 

“You should go,” he says, as if that was something Lan Wangji could do. “Leave me. They’ll only hurt you if they find you here.” As if that was some unexpected outcome, a deterrent to staying by Wei Ying’s side. 

“I won’t leave you.”

A harsh, rasping breath breaks in Wei Ying’s throat -- not unlike a laugh, yet so unlike the laugh that lives in Lan Wangji’s dreams. “So stubborn, Lan Zhan. So good. Always so good.”

Lan Wangji feels his blood beat in the tips of his ears. It is Wei Ying, not Lan Wangji, who is good. But to hear him say it… 

“Wei Ying, I--”

Again, Wei Ying interrupts him. 

“At least Shijie is alive this time.”

It’s an odd turn of phrase that catches Lan Wangji’s attention. 

“This time?”

In the darkness, Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying’s eyes fall closed. It’s not unlike the way Brother shuts out the world when it is too much, too harsh, too fast. 

The silence between them stretches, broken only by the steady dripping of water that continues to echo, like a clock that counts down the dwindling moments they have left. Like this, time flows too fast, trickling away between breaths and heart beats. Still, Lan Wangji waits. He does not push Wei Ying to answer him. He’s not even really sure what his question is. 

“Yes,” Wei Ying says, at last. 

Another rasping rattle of a laugh. 

That weary exhaustion hangs heavy in his voice as he turns his head to regard Lan Wangji once more. “Oh, Lan Zhan, I’ve done this so many times. I’m so tired.”

The first… Lan Wangji has no idea how to decipher. It sounds confused, mad, nonsensical. Yet Wei Ying says it with perfect lucidity. Whatever it means, he seems to believe it enough to be weary of it in a way that pierces bone. 

But the second: This, at least, Lan Wangji can help assuage. 

“Rest. I will be here.”

Wei Ying squirms against the stone where he lays. Contrary, as ever. 

Lan Wangji aches to take him into his arms, to hold him close and keep him safe. His old desire, his avarice, gnaws at the base of his breastbone. But he knows now that Wei Ying will not come to him willingly, and Lan Wangji will never cage him, even for his own safety. 

“They’re coming,” Wei Ying’s throat sounds full of gravel. But his words are timely -- a reminder that any cage Lan Wangji might offer is no longer an option anyway. They both know who they are. And Wei Ying is right. Still right as he continues, “They’ll be here soon. They’ll take you.” But then, “You should let them take you.”

Something like fury rises in Lan Wangji’s blood. Growling and thrashing in his gut. “I will not le--”

“A'Yuan needs you, Lan Zhan.” Lan Wangji’s blood freezes. “Let them take you.”

Wei Ying doesn’t plead with him, and Lan Wangji doesn’t know whether he should feel grateful for that or not. He would not be capable of refusing him if he pleaded. 

He may not be capable of refusing him anyway. 

“Wei Ying?”

“It’s okay. I– Like I said,” Wei Ying smiles, small but sincere, “it doesn’t work if there’s no villain.”

Lan Wangji thinks he’s beginning to understand. But, “Why you?”

“If not me, then who?”

Tears burn behind Lan Wangji’s eyes. Because of course Wei Ying would offer himself up for this. For this, for the Wen remnants, for any cause deemed worthy and right. He is still that beautiful boy who painted a rabbit on a lantern and pledged his life to protecting the weak and standing with justice. 

Lan Wangji holds the tears at bay with clenched fists. “Not you.”

It works, if only just. If only simply delaying the inevitable. But then, all of this is simply delaying the inevitable, isn’t it. A brief respite. The world will not change while Wei Ying and Lan Wangji are hiding away in this cave. 

Wei Ying inhales -- a ghastly sound, wet and ragged and rattling. 

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. I know.” Lan Wangji’s heart leaps into his throat, and Wei Ying says, again, gently, soothing, “I know. You’ve stayed with me before.”

“Before?”

It’s that strange tense again. Does he mean the cave with the false xuanwu? 

“Yes. You’re always so good. Too good. They hurt you when you fight. Don’t-- Don’t let them hurt you. A'Yuan needs you.”

“A'Yuan?”

It’s the second time Wei Ying has mentioned him. The boy who brought a smile to Wei Ying’s eyes. Who wrapped himself around Lan Wangji’s leg, full-bodied with trust and wide-eyed with wonder. 

“He needs you to raise him,” Wei Ying says, latching on to whatever it is he hears in Lan Wangji’s voice. “I know you’ll take such good care of him, Lan Zhan. You always do.”

This time. Before. Always.

“Wei Ying, I don’t understand.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

It’s nothing, meaningless, but it soothes him all the same. 

This man. This beautiful, brave, brilliant man. The light is low, but Lan Wangji can still see the radiance shining out of this man he loves. 

The time continues to drip away from him, from them both. He made a confession once, in a cave like this. But whether Wei Ying heard it, grasped it, understood it… Remembers it. Lan Wangji doesn’t believe he’ll have many more chances after this. 

“Please,” he says, “Wei Ying, I--”

“Don’t say it.” It’s almost a sob. As much of a sob as Wei Ying’s broken body can manage, Lan Wangji would guess. “Don’t say it, Lan Zhan. It only hurts more if you say it. If I-- Don’t say it.”

Of course. He already said he knows, after all. 

The ache is less than he imagined it would be. He swallows it down. 

“Okay. Okay, Wei Ying.”

“Let them take you. When they come, just go with them. Don’t fight.”

Obstinance returns, a welcome distraction. 

“They will kill you.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t--”

“You must.” Lan Wangji wants to throttle him, just so he stops interrupting. 

“They need a villain,” Wei Ying repeats. “They don’t need two. But if you stay with me, if you fight them for me, that is what you become. A'Yuan needs you.”

His voice breaks over A’Yuan’s name, and Lan Wangji breaks for him again. 

“Okay. Okay, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying moves slowly. His sleeve drags against the stone, a strangely soft sound for the roughness of the materials making it. 

He reaches toward Lan Wangji and asks, “Hold my hand?”

“But--”

“I only said not to say it. Not that it’s unwelcome.”

His touch is surprisingly warm. Lan Wangji laces their fingers together and traces the lines of Wei Ying’s veins with his other hand.

“Wei Ying--” he tries again, but Wei Ying shushes him. 

“Hush now, Lan Zhan. Just hold me. They’ll be here soon.”

It’s cold, in the cave. With his core depleted, Lan Wangji feels it seeping in through the many layers of his robes. He hurts -- everywhere. His heart, certainly, but there’s the ache of overtaxed muscles as well, and the nettle-bite of a hundred tiny cuts, partially healed and stinging for it. 

He thinks he will hurt much more before the night is through. 

Wei Ying’s breath is shallow and murky, but it’s even. His pulse is weak beneath his pale, thin skin. Resentment bleeds from somewhere under his robes, spilling sluggishly and sapping whatever remains of Wei Ying’s warmth. 

He’s dying, Lan Wangji knows. He’s dying, and there’s nothing Lan Wangji can do to save him. 

So Lan Wangji turns his mind to other problems. The other thing, the tenses that seem out of place, but possibly are not. 

Wei Ying is ingenious. He has created things -- terrible, powerful things -- that no one had imagined, that now everyone clamors for. If anyone could… what? Reverse the flow of time? Step in and out of the stream, perhaps? It would be him. 

“If you’ve done this before,” Lan Wangji asks, “why not fix it? Why not live?”

Wei Ying does not seem surprised by the question. But, if he’s done this before, perhaps he answered it before. Perhaps none of this is new to him. 

“It doesn’t work,” Wei Ying sighs. “It all falls apart. The clans fall to each other if not to Wen Ruohan. They need--”

“A villain. So you’ve said.” Lan Wangji can’t stand to hear the easy acceptance in Wei Ying’s voice as he repeats the brand again. 

“Ah, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s lungs fail to contain his excitement, and he coughs wetly around what might have been a laugh. He says, “Interrupting me, so bold!”

Which is truly--

“I am trying to understand.”

“I know. I know. There’s no time. Which will be very funny to you later. Nothing but time. Maybe I will see you again, Lan Zhan.”

And maybe he will, but will Lan Wangji see Wei Ying again? If they’ve done this all before, what happens to Lan Wangji when Wei Ying starts over? He certainly has no memory of this. Where does Wei Ying begin again? Is it even the same stream in time, or simply another branch in the watershed? 

These questions and more pile up in Lan Wangji’s throat, too thick to speak through. 

In the end, they don’t matter because, “They will kill you.”

“Yes. Yes, and you should let them. So you can save A'Yuan.” A’Yuan, again. 

Wei Ying turns away from him, then. He doesn’t pull his hand back, and Lan Wangji finds he is pathetically grateful for this small comfort allowed to him. 

“Maybe,” Wei Ying says, “maybe you can make them all see. Make them open their eyes in the Burial Mounds. Make them see who it is they’re running through.”

The Burial Mounds. The Wens. The tiny village of broken men and women who have drawn life from a mountain made of death. 

Lan Wangji cannot fathom why the sects would besiege such a place, yet he knows that they must. That they’ve been threatening it for months. And now that Wei Ying is injured, now that his general has burned, now that his power source has shattered to pieces and the Burial Mounds are left defenseless… Now, he supposes, they must. Or else allow themselves to be called cowards by those who desire power more than justice. 

And Wei Ying has done this before. 

He brings their entwined hands to his mouth, but stops before he can touch his lips to Wei Ying’s skin. Not unwelcome, but not welcome, either. 

“Why can’t we show them together, Wei Ying? Why?”

“It doesn’t work. It’s too late for me. You saw what I did to them. You saw the monster I’ve become.”

The monster they made him into. It was their own hunger for the Yin Tiger Seal that drove Wei Ying to destroy it. The chaos that rained down, a disaster brought about by their greed, their prejudice, their failure to see Wei Ying and all that he was and cherish him as he deserved. 

Lan Wangji’s own failure. 

“Wei Ying--”

“I asked you to kill me once. If I was too far gone. Do you remember that?”

Lan Wangji freezes, his blood thickens and slows like ice in his veins. 

Of course he remembers. That night haunts him, will forever haunt him, now. The night he should have pulled himself up onto a horse and rode with them. The night he should have trusted Wei Ying. Should have protected him. 

His jaw barely moves, “I do.”

“Would you do it now?”

“Wei Ying?!” Lan Wangji jumps to his feet, dropping Wei Ying’s hand and immediately missing the touch. But he cannot-- He cannot. 

“I know,” Wei Ying says, a rueful edge to his tone. “You’re too good, Lan Zhan. You never agree to that.”

This time. Before. Always. Never. 

“Wei Ying, please.” Lan Wangji cannot hold the whine in his throat. 

“I could make you.”

There’s something in Wei Ying’s voice when he says it. Something malicious. 

No. Venomous. 

It is not evil. Wei Ying is not evil. He is good, sunlight, righteousness. 

Even the black and white banded snake strikes only in defense, or in hunger. Which is this, Lan Wangji wonders. Defense, or hunger?

“Wei Ying?”

“I could make you kill me,” he says, the venom thick on his tongue. “I haven’t tried that before. You would be the hero, then maybe you could stop the slaughter.”

“You are not a villain, Wei Ying!” His voice sounds harsh to his own ears. It ricochets off the stone walls like a rock slide in a canyon. Loud, crashing, and trembling. 

“I am,” Wei Ying presses. “I’m a monster, haven’t you heard? A demon. You would be venerated for putting me down.”

Wei Ying’s eyes -- clever and cruel -- begin to take on that eerie red hue, and Lan Wangji can’t stand it. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what else he can do. He has tried listening, he has tried confessing, he has tried arguing. None of it makes a difference. 

The tears he’s held back begin to burn once more. Insistent. Desperate. 

His body moves for him, seeking comfort in penance as it has over and over again. He spreads his skirts and kneels on the uneven stone. 

The stone is colder now, like the cold of snow over gentian blooms. It is rough and rugged like gravel. 

But he remembers that kneeling alone has never worked before. Kneeling alone has brought him nothing but absolution -- a release from the punishment, but not release from longing, not release from his own ruthless hunger. 

His mouth moves for him, “Please…”

He watches his tears fall, the curve of them catching whatever light is left in this cave. They shine like diamonds. 

“Please, Wei Ying…” 

They are as useless to him as diamonds. 

“It would crush you to do it, I know.” 

The ice in Wei Ying’s voice thaws a little. But Lan Wangji can see determination still flickering in his eyes. The red has faded, at least. The silver seems dulled with exhaustion. 

“We could do it together,” Wei Ying offers, “you and I. Draw your sword, Lan Zhan.”

“No.”

Lan Wangji tucks his fingers into fists and squeezes tight. It’s all he can do not to scream. Not to rage. Not to flee. 

“Lan Zhan, they’ll kill me either way. Let me die like this: in your arms, with you by my side.”

“I can’t--”

“A quick slide, right through my ribs. It will be almost peaceful this way.”

Almost peaceful --

“No!”

“You can hold me.” 

Lan Wangji feels the offer like a slap. He closes his eyes against it, against the want that curls in him even now. Even like this. 

“They’ll praise you for it.” Wei Ying knows him well enough to sound sorry about it. “You’ll hate that, but then the spoils will be yours. You can claim them. It could work, Lan Zhan.”

The spoils. The Wens. A’Yuan. As if anyone would allow him this. As if he wouldn’t have to wrench it from their greedy, grasping hands. 

“Wei Ying, please do not ask this of me.”

“It’s too much. I know. I know, Zhiji.”

Zhiji. I still am. 

Lan Wangji knows he’s being placated, but he doesn’t care. He grasps at the word -- the acknowledgment -- with both hands. He clutches them into Wei Ying’s bloody robes. 

“Zhiji. Zhiyin. Wei Ying.”

It still feels exhilarating to say. To speak into existence. Into memory. 

“You would do it if I asked you to. I know you would.” 

He would. It’s true. 

What does that make him? A monster? A fool? 

Tears stream down Lan Wangji’s face. He can feel their tracks on his cheeks. A deluge, unstoppable. Unimportant. 

Wei Ying bites his lip, turning it even paler around the dull edges of his teeth. 

“But is that something I can let myself ask of you? Is it too cruel? To make you bear this with me? To make you take some of the weight.”

He isn’t asking Lan Wangji. Not really. He’s thinking through a problem. Lan Wangji’s input is neither required nor requested. His opinion, his desire, is known. 

Lan Wangji begs anyway. 

“Please, don’t… Please, Wei Ying.”

Even as he does, he knows. He knows how this will end and he hates himself for it. He wishes, just for a moment, that he could be like his father. That he could say, No. You’re coming with me. I will keep you safe, whether you like it or not. 

But he can’t. 

Wei Ying is right. There are only so many ways forward. This one… This one could save lives. Possibly. Potentially. 

It’s excruciating. Like tilling soil on a mountain of bones. 

“Draw your sword, Lan Zhan.”

Bichen comes easy to his hands, once he’s untwisted them from Wei Ying’s robes. The white of the scabbard is too clean, too bright, for this place. The blade, too pure. 

“Wei Ying.”

“Good. Good. It’ll be quick. So quick.”

Lan Wangji knows well the speed at which life can drain from a body. 

He helps Wei Ying sit up as he slides himself down. Wei Ying is still far too thin, but the weight of him as he settles back against Lan Wangji’s chest is grounding. Lan Wangji tries to focus on that. On the places he and Wei Ying are pressed together. An embrace. A last comfort for Lan Wangji to hold onto. 

“Don’t worry,”Wei Ying says, “they’ll be here soon. They’ll see. They’ll help you. Your brother will help you.” 

Bichen’s tip settles easily -- too easily -- between the ladder-rungs of Wei Ying’s ribs. The blue light lends a sickly hue to Wei Ying’s pallor, but catches in his eyes like cold, crisp winter mornings. 

“Yes, right there.” 

The angle -- the angle that will kill Wei Ying with the least pain, the least suffering, the-- the fastest… It strains at Lan Wangji’s shoulder and elbow. He doesn’t have the qi to spend to hold Bichen with only his core. He has to use his hand. 

He has to use his hand. For this. 

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. It’s okay. It’s okay if it’s you.”

“This is not--”

“I know. I know. Just hold me.”

This is not what they meant when they said this in the rain. Either of them. This is not what they wanted when they came to this cave. Either of them. 

But Wei Ying believes it will work, and Lan Wangji trusts Wei Ying. 

He wishes--

No. The time for wishes has passed. But there is, perhaps, time left one thing. 

“Wei Ying?”

“Yes, Lan Zhan?”

“May I say it.”

“Ha. Yes, Lan Zhan. I think. I think I’d like to hear it.”

“I love you, Wei Ying.”

“I know. I love you, too, Lan Zhan.”

“I know.”

And he finds he does know. Because as much as he trusts Wei Ying, Wei Ying is trusting him, too. He is here. In Lan Wangji’s arms. Ready to die. Ready for Lan Wangji to kill him. Because it is right. This time. 

Lan Wangji’s tears spill onto Wei Ying’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Lan Zhan. Deep breath. That’s it. It’s okay. It will be okay.”

“What’s that?”

But he knows. 

“Footsteps. They’re almost here.”

Lan Wangji nods. 

Wei Ying starts to beg. 

“Lan Zhan, please. You can do it. Please. Lan Zh--”

A short slide. 

“Wei Ying.”

The only light in the world goes out. 

--

“Wei Ying.”

.

“I love you.”

.

“I’m here.”

.

.

.

When his family enters the cavern, they bring with them talismans of light. Dozens of elders follow behind Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren, but Lan Wangji only really sees his brother. 

“Wangji?”

A sob cracks its way out of Lan Wangji’s chest. 

“Xiongzhang. He’s gone.”

Lan Xichen is gracious. His eyes don’t stray from Lan Wangji’s. Not to Wei Ying’s body, or the way Lan Wangji is clutching at it. Not to Bichen, dropped numbly to the ground, blood, red and glistening, wetting several inches at the tip. 

Not even to Lan Wangji’s bare forehead. Or to the ribbon wrapped -- too hastily, too late -- around Wei Ying’s wrist. 

He lets their uncle, their elders, witness those things. 

Lan Xichen simply kneels down before his brother and whispers, “Oh, Wangji.”

--

(Lan Wangji's love is kept secret. His vanquishing of the evil Yiling Laozu turned legend. He retreats from the world and builds a home for the Wens, this time on a mountain that is already green with life and rich with promise.)

(He wanders in the forgotten places, the places that do not know him. And he teaches his son that rumor is not to be trusted.)

(Lan Wangji will never be more grateful that Wei Ying didn't ask him to sing again as he is when he hears their song played on a poorly cut flute and thinks only of life, survival, and love.)