#Then I remembered that jc will never be hugged again by his beloved sister :-/ and I made this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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I would really like to see your take on JC/JYL age flip also JC is the sickley one JYL is sect heir and how it changes them

Sometimes, Jiang Cheng wondered if his father would have loved him if he had been born healthy.

If maybe that would have been the thing that would have changed everything – the little difference that would have entitled him to the hugs that Wei Wuxian got, the warm smiles, the praise. The hand on the shoulder, the occasional “well done”…

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know if it was his weakness that his father so obviously despised him for, or if it was only his mother’s blood that ran true in him – his face like her face, his temperament the same as hers except without the power to back it up.

He didn’t know if he would’ve been a different person if he’d had a body that obeyed him properly – one that didn’t try to kill him when he tried to train the sword, that didn’t send him blue in the face and choking when he ran too far or too fast or when it was too cold or too wet. He didn’t even want to be talented, the way Wei Wuxian was; he would be content with having the opportunity to complete, rather than being left out of the race entirely. Surely through hard work and effort he could have kept neck-and-neck with Wei Wuxian in the race for his father’s affection, the race Wei Wuxian won so easily, instead of the way he was now.

He wondered, too, if perhaps his body had shaped who he was – if perhaps his prickliness, his bitterness, his anger, his tendency to scold instead of praise, his frowns and scowls instead of smiles were all from that base anger, the anger at his body for failing him when he needed it. The way he saw himself left behind by all his peers, watching them grow strong while he struggled and strained and broke himself trying his best only to become barely average.

Maybe if he’d been born normal, he wouldn’t have been like that. Maybe he would have smiled easily, the way Wei Wuxian did; maybe he would have been calm and patient, the way Jiang Yanli was. Maybe he would have understood the Jiang sect motto the way his father was always telling him he couldn’t.

Maybe his parents wouldn’t have fought so bitterly all the time if only his mother had produced a son his father could think was worthy of him.

He didn’t know.

He regretted it anyway.

But most of all, he regretted what his weakness meant to Jiang Yanli.

She’d never complained, of course. She assured him it wasn’t his fault – that he couldn’t control it, that it was merely the will of the Heavens. She told him she wasn’t angry at him.

He wouldn’t blame her if she was.

He was angry at himself.

At his weakness.

At what it had cost her.

When he was still a child, they’d all thought that his sickliness was merely an artifact of his childhood – that it would pass and fade, that he would outgrow his illness and become a man like any other, and as a result his parents and all his sect had treated him as the presumptive heir. He’d gotten tutors, training, extra lessons; he’d been asked to listen to meetings, to read over reports, to think over problems…

Jiang Yanli, in contrast, had been left alone to amuse herself.

It wasn’t a matter of power; she had a powerful golden core, a good basic talent that could be further strengthened with hard work. But the Jiang sect had one daughter and one son, and obviously that meant that the son would inherit and the daughter marry out – and so what did it matter what her cultivation was? There was no need to train her to be anything other than a good wife.

Jiang Yanli had liked that.

She’d been so gentle, Jiang Cheng remembered – generous, kind, happy. She liked cooking, sailing, playing with children, walking by the pier and conversing with the merchants and fishermen…

She couldn’t do that now.

She was the sect heir, now. Responsibility had fallen hard upon her shoulders, but she bore it well: the endless classes to take, the increased stress to increase her cultivation, the burden of the sect’s reputation, the lack of time to do as she pleased – all that and more, she accepted with the same smile as before.

She was still gentle, still generous, still kind.

And yet, as she grew older, stronger, more confident, she also grew – bitter.

Bitter like her mother.

Like Jiang Cheng.

And the reason was all him.

Him, for being weak. For being unworthy. For not being Wei Wuxian –

“You deserve better,” Jiang Yanli said, Jiang Cheng lying in bed with his head in her lap, chest slowly rising and falling – the aftermath of an attack.

“Than what?” he asked, a sad laugh gurgling in his throat. “Than to be born sick? Than to be a disappointment?”

“To be treated as less worthy than Wei Wuxian’s shadow,” she said fiercely.

Jiang Cheng bit his lips. “Don’t say that.”

“She’s right, though,” Wei Wuxian said. He was there as well, sitting on the floor, and Jiang Cheng didn’t know how to argue with him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand his father’s preference for Wei Wuxian. He even agreed with it. He adored Wei Wuxian, with his mischief and his brilliance, the way he would fight anyone and anything for Jiang Cheng’s sake; he always had the best ideas on how to waste time, how to play, how to joke around. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, bold and unrestrained, powerful and healthy and strong, everything Jiang Cheng wished he could be, and yet Wei Wuxian always allowed his useless can’t-breath, can’t-run, need-to-rest-again weak-bodied shidi to trail along behind him.

“Why don’t you call him A-Xian anymore?” he asked his sister, choosing to ignore Wei Wuxian.

“Too much intimacy between men and women is not good,” Jiang Yanli said, but she didn’t look at him, and Jiang Cheng might be weak but he wasn’t stupid.

“Does – does Father want you two to marry?” he asked hesitantly, looking between one and the other, neither of them looking at him. “But Mother already engaged you to Jin Zixuan.”

Presents had been exchanged, the engagement all but final – the Jin sect’s interest in the match, originally arranged as part of a promise between their mothers, who had been childhood friends, had gone up considerably ever since they realized that Jiang Yanli would be inheriting the Jiang sect. It was difficult but not impossible for two sect heirs to marry: they’d agreed that they’d need have two sons, one to inherit each sect, carry on each surname, and that the inheritance would devolve back to the original family lines should anything go wrong with that plan.

It was settled.

“Engagements can be broken,” Jiang Yanli said, and her eyes were a little red. “And – it might not be that. It’s just improper, now that I’m older…”

Jiang Cheng twisted to look at Wei Wuxian, who was nowhere near as good at eliding a direct question.

“Sect Leader Jin all but implied that we were planning on putting a green hat on his son’s head,” Wei Wuxian blurted out, characteristically blunt. “Just because I’m close to shijie, that we were planning for her to marry Jin Zixuan so that we’d get the Jin sect’s benefits, but that the children would be mine – that bastard.”

“A-Xian!” Jiang Yanli exclaimed.

“It’s true, though! He is! In spirit, if not in blood –”

“That’s not the problem –”

“Are you?” Jiang Cheng asked, and they both turned to look at him. “Going to marry?”

“No,” Wei Wuxian said immediately, eyes bugging out, even as Jiang Yanli furiously shook her head in similar denial. “Shijie’s – no!”

A marital sister was a perfectly reasonable match to make, even if they’d been raised together, but the disgusted expressions on both their faces at the very thought somehow pleased Jiang Cheng.

(He was a bitter, awful person sometimes. No, not sometimes – often. But they still loved him.)

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, it’s not important yet, is it? We’re going to go to the Cloud Recesses, where Jin Zixuan is, too. Maybe jiejie will like him and it’ll all be all right.”

“Yes,” Jiang Yanli said quickly. “That’s right. I mean, I haven’t met him, and I’ve been far too busy to think about any of that…this will be a good opportunity to see if we suit each other. If we do, good; if we don’t, we don’t, and I’ll insist on breaking the engagement to marry as my own wishes suit – and not to A-Xian. Never to A-Xian.”

Not even if their father thought he would be the perfect match.

“Madame Yu wouldn’t agree anyway,” Wei Wuxian said, nodding furiously.

“That’s true,” Jiang Cheng said, and relaxed a little. He already knew he wouldn’t have a bride – nor a husband, for that matter, he found that he wasn’t especially fussed about that in the rare times he let himself dream of what-could-be. Those dreams weren’t for him, though, not really; who would want a broken barely average cultivator like him, with no talents except maybe cooking the way Jiang Yanli had taught him and a temper as bad as it could be?

It was horrible and selfish of him, to want his most beloved people to stay with him instead of finding their happiness elsewhere – whether with each other, or with someone else – but he couldn’t help himself.

He didn’t have anything else. Not his parents’ respect and love, not cultivation or fighting power, not even his health – all he had was their love.

He shouldn’t hope for anything more than that.

(And yet, in the Cloud Recesses of all unexpected places – he found it.)

#mdzs #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #letitdevour

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