#gently hold the Zewu Jun

[mdzsfan]

Whispers of innocence

Thank you Lily (quotev) for requesting this!

d/n = daughter's name

Lan Xichen stood at the doorway, a worried expression softening his usually composed features as he observed Y/n nestled in bed, visibly unwell. It was a rare sight to witness her in such a state, and his heart tugged with concern for her well-being. Approaching the bedside with a quiet grace, he couldn't help the tender smile that curved his lips as he gazed down at her.

"Rest well, my love," his voice was a soothing murmur, laced with affection. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, his touch lingering as if to impart his comfort and care. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Y/n managed a faint smile, her fingers weakly curling around his hand. "Thank you, Xichen. I just need some rest."

"A-niang!" D/n burst into the room, her energy uncontainable as she barged in. The Lan disciples scrambled to rein in her exuberance, their attempts to hold her back a gentle reminder of decorum in the presence of the Clan Leader and his wife.

"Sorry, Zewu-Jun and Lan Furen," the lan disciples offered apologetic bows.

Lan Xichen raised a hand, signaling a halt, and offered a reassuring smile to the disciples before they left. He turned his attention back to the scene unfolding before him, where d/n stood with her parents.

"A-niang!" D/n's voice was a symphony of delight as she addressed her mother. "Are you feeling better?"

Y/n's lips curved into a warm smile, her eyes shining with affection for her daughter. "I am, especially now that you're here."

D/n's face lit up with joy, her happiness radiating like a sunbeam. She approached the bedside, her small hands reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from y/n's face.

"But Lan Jingyi told me that if you're sick, you'll grow worms in your belly and have bugs coming out of your head," d/n said, her innocence evident in her tone as she relayed the curious information she had picked up.

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of Lan Jingyi's imaginative warning. "Oh, really?" She exchanged a knowing glance with Lan Xichen, amusement dancing in their eyes.

Lan Xichen joined the conversation, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Well, d/n, Lan Jingyi's imagination can be quite vivid, but I assure you, your A-niang is in good hands. She's resting and will be better soon."

D/n's brows furrowed in contemplation, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "I guess worms and bugs are not very good caretakers, are they?"

Lan Xichen chuckled softly, his gaze fond as he ruffled her hair affectionately. "No, they're not quite the nurturing type."

D/n nodded, seemingly satisfied with this clarification. Her attention shifted back to her mother, her expression softening with affection. "A-niang, can I stay with you for a while?"

"It's best for A-niang to be alone for a while so she can recover," Lan Xichen gently explained to his daughter as they exited the room, leaving his wife to rest and recuperate.

D/n's brows furrowed in a mix of concern and curiosity as she mulled over her father's words. "But Lan Jingyi told me that if you're alone for too long, you won't get better. He said little bugs will start to collect your soul." Her pout was accompanied by a worried expression.

Lan Xichen couldn't help but hide a small smile at the imaginative explanation provided by Lan Jingyi. "Oh, is that so?" He knelt down to her eye level, his tone conspiratorial. "Well, I think Lan Jingyi might have been having some fun with his words. You see, A-niang just needs some quiet time to rest and regain her strength. No bugs involved."

D/n's eyes widened with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Are you sure, a-die?"

Lan Xichen nodded with an earnest expression. "Absolutely sure. Sometimes, being alone and resting can help our bodies heal faster."

D/n pondered his words, her pout slowly transforming into a thoughtful expression. "So, no bugs?"

Lan Xichen chuckled softly. "No bugs, I promise."

D/n's lips curled into a relieved smile, her worry dissipating. "Okay, then. I guess I can let A-niang rest."

"That's very considerate of you," Lan Xichen praised, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your A-niang will appreciate it very much."

D/n beamed with pride, her worries now replaced with a sense of understanding. "I want her to get better soon so we can play together!"

Lan Xichen stood up and held out his hand, ready to continue their journey. "That's a wonderful thought, d/n. Now, how about we go for a little walk while A-niang rests? We can come up with fun ideas to surprise her when she feels better."

D/n's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of planning surprises. She took her father's hand, her grip firm and determined. "Yes, let's do that, a-die!"

As the father and daughter strolled through the tranquil corridors of the Lan Clan residence, the serenity of the surroundings seemed to trigger a flood of memories for Lan Xichen. The way y/n interacted with d/n, their laughter and affectionate exchanges, transported him back to his own childhood days alongside Lan Wangji, a time when their mother's presence still graced their lives.

Lost in his reminiscences, Lan Xichen was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of d/n's exuberant voice. "You know, a-die!" Her declaration echoed down the hallways, drawing curious glances from passing disciples.

Startled by her enthusiastic announcement, Lan Xichen couldn't help but pause in his steps. "D/n," he interjected gently, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "Let's keep our voices down. We must show respect for our elders as they go about their duties."

D/n nodded in understanding, though her enthusiasm remained undeterred. "Yes, a-die," she responded in a hushed tone, her eyes shining with energy. "But you know, when I grow up, I want to marry Lan Jingyi!"

Lan Xichen's steps faltered as d/n's words hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Her declaration seemed to reverberate through his mind, momentarily jolting him out of his composed demeanor. He looked down at his daughter, his eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

"You want to marry Lan Jingyi?" he repeated, his voice tinged with shock as he struggled to process her straightforward statement.

D/n nodded enthusiastically, her innocent expression unchanged. "Yes, a-die! When I grow up, I want to marry Lan Jingyi. He's funny and nice, and we play together all the time!"

Lan Xichen's mind raced, trying to reconcile his daughter's innocent proclamation with the reality before him. He hadn't expected such a candid revelation, especially from someone so young. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"D/n, that's a very interesting thought," he managed to say, his voice gentle yet tinged with surprise. "But you're still very young, and there's a lot of time ahead for you to grow and explore different paths."

D/n looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes. "But a-die, you always say that we should find someone who makes us happy. And Lan Jingyi makes me really happy!"

Lan Xichen blinked, her innocence cutting through his momentary shock. He had indeed imparted those values to her, encouraging her to seek happiness and kindness in her relationships. He couldn't help but smile at her conviction, a mixture of fondness and amusement in his expression.

"You're absolutely right, d/n," he conceded, his smile softening. "Finding someone who brings joy to your life is important. But remember, there's no rush. Take your time to grow and discover what truly makes your heart happy."

D/n's face lit up with a bright smile, her trust in her father unwavering. "I will, a-die!"

Lan Xichen crouched down to her level, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "That's the spirit, d/n. Enjoy your journey of growing up, and know that your family will always be here to support you."

D/n's smile widened, and she gave him a quick hug. "Thank you, a-die!"

As they continued their walk, Lan Xichen couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself. His daughter's candidness and straightforwardness were a constant reminder of the purity of childhood innocence. And in her innocent aspiration, he found a reminder that life's dreams and aspirations often take root in the most unexpected moments.

Lan Xichen's attention was swiftly captured by d/n's excited exclamation. Her little finger pointed towards a group of baby bunnies, their soft and pristine coats standing out against the green backdrop of the lan clan's surroundings. Their playful hops and wiggles were a sight to behold, and a smile involuntarily graced his lips.

"Indeed, they are quite the adorable sight," he replied, his voice gentle.

D/n's request to take one of the baby bunnies home pulled at his heartstrings. Her earnestness and cute expression were hard to resist, yet he knew the importance of teaching her about the balance of nature and the creatures that shared their world.

He crouched down to her eye level, his eyes meeting hers as he spoke. "My dear, while it's a wonderful thought, these baby bunnies have their own homes and families here. They belong in our lan clan's environment, and it's best to let them remain where they thrive."

A soft smile graced his features as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his fatherly affection evident. "How about we sit here for a while and observe their playful antics? We can appreciate their beauty and happiness without disturbing their natural habitat."

D/n's expression held a mix of disappointment and understanding, and he marveled at her capacity to grasp such concepts. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"All right, A-die," she agreed, her voice soft but content. "Let's watch them play together."

On their journey back, d/n's excitement seemed to radiate as she bounded towards her mother, eager to share the day's enchanting escapades.

"A-niang, guess what?" d/n bubbled with enthusiasm. "A-die and I had the most amazing adventures today!"

Y/n's tender smile welcomed her daughter's chatter, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fondness and curiosity. "Tell me all about it, sweetheart."

D/n's yawn was a testament to her day's energy expenditure, but it didn't dampen her animated storytelling. "We explored and saw so many things. But the best part was when we found these cute little bunnies! I really wanted to bring one home, but a-die said we shouldn't."

Y/n's soothing voice carried a note of understanding as she responded, "I'm glad you had such a wonderful time, my love. Exploring with your a-die sounds like so much fun."

Lan Xichen's arrival with their tired daughter in his arms was a gentle interruption. D/n's eyelids drooped as her yawns continued to punctuate her words. Her mother's arms welcomed her into a cozy embrace, and Lan Xichen swiftly tucked her into bed.

"Time for you to rest, my little adventurer," y/n cooed softly, brushing a gentle kiss against d/n's forehead.

D/n's voice was a sleepy murmur as she nestled in her mother's embrace, recounting the day's highlights one last time before slumber claimed her. "Tomorrow, maybe the bunnies will have babies of their own..."

As Lan Xichen quietly left the room to give their daughter the rest she needed, he couldn't help but smile at the bond they shared and the joyful memories they were building together. Back in their own room, he rejoined y/n, the warmth of their daughter's stories lingering in the air.

"It seems like you guys had quite the adventure," y/n remarked with a knowing smile. "D/n's energy and curiosity remind me of someone."

Lan Xichen's expression shifted, a mixture of emotions passing through his eyes. "You promised, y/n. We agreed never to bring him up."

A heavy sigh escaped y/n's lips, her gaze soft but steadfast. "I understand your feelings, Xichen. But we both know Wei Wuxian isn't solely at fault. The past is complex, and there's more to it than what meets the eye."

Lan Xichen's brows furrowed, his frustration and lingering resentment evident. "He brought trouble to our clan, and Lan Wangji bore the burden of his actions. It's not so simple."

Y/n reached out, her hand finding its way to his. Her touch was a comforting reassurance as she spoke, her voice gentle but firm. "I know it's not simple, Xichen. But it's important not to let anger and blame cloud our judgment. We've seen the good he's done too. Just as Lan Wangji has."

Lan Xichen's gaze met hers, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within. He knew y/n was right, but letting go of years of resentment wasn't an easy task. Their hands remained intertwined, a silent understanding passing between them, bridging the gap between differing perspectives.

"He caused an overwhelming amount of chaos within the clan," Lan Xichen's voice carried the weight of history as memories resurfaced. "The repercussions of his actions were extensive, leading to the loss of many innocent civilians. It's difficult to fathom how a single individual could bring about so much death and pain."

Y/n's gaze softened with understanding, her eyes reflecting the shared pain of their clan's past. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Lan Xichen's temple. "You're right, my love. It's a topic best left untouched for now. The past can't be changed, and Wei Wuxian is no longer among the living."

Lan Xichen's shoulders relaxed slightly at her touch and words, the weight of his thoughts eased by her presence. "You're right, y/n. Thank you for being here with me."

With a gentle smile, she intertwined her fingers with his, their bond a testament to the strength they found in each other. "Always, Xichen. We face our challenges together, no matter the weight of the past."

As they settled into bed, the room filled with a sense of solace, a reminder that even in the face of their clan's tumultuous history, their love remained a beacon of hope for the future.

#mdzs x reader #mdzs #mdzs oneshots #the untamed #mo dao zu shi reader insert #lan xichen x reader #lan xichen #gusu lan #lan jingyi #the untamed reader insert #the untamed x reader #the untamed #the untamed oneshots #mdzs fluff #cql #cql x reader #cql reader inserts

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

"Pretty!" The almost prayer-like soft whisper came from the tiny Lan, whose eyes were big and round and more expressive than all of the Lans' together. He was absolutely adorable, and Nie Huaisang had to suppress the squeal that threatened to leave his mouth behind his fan. The tiny Lan in pale blue, with his tiny hands on his tiny chest was the most adorable thing Nie Huaisang had ever seen in his life, and he had the fortune to grow up looking into the mirror day by day.

The tiny Lan beat him in adorableness, fair and square. Now, he just needed to know who was his competitor and how come he had never seen him before.

"Hello there," he cooed, lazily fanning himself as he kneeled down so he could be at the same eye level as the kid. "And who might you be?"

"This one is Lan Huan," he said seriously, properly bowing, with his hands in front of him. "Who are you, Pretty gege?"

"L-Lan Huan?" Nie Huaisang's voice trembled. The tiny boy in the tiniest Lan robes, with the tiniest headbands, who had the widest and most innocent blue eyes ever was Lan Xichen?!

"Yes!" The boy nodded with a toothy smile, then waited patiently.

When he remembered, he bowed, and said as serious as he could be while wanting nothing more than to take the child into his arms and squeeze him tight, "This one is Nie Huaisang."

"Nie-gege?"

Huaisang melted. "To you, it is Sang-ge!"

The smile he received back was brighter than the Sun itself. Suddenly, the kid grew shy, almost curling up, looking down the ground instead of up to Huaisang's eyes.

"What is the problem, Little One?" He asked, booping the tiny nose with his pointing finger. Eyes crossed to look at the offending digit, and the sight was just too cute to bear for the young Sect Leader who already had an unfortunate soft spot for Zewu-Jun.

"I wan- can-," the kid bit into his lips. "This one would be honored if Pretty Sang-ge would hug him."

Nie Huaisang never had self-restraint when he saw something cute, and there was nothing cuter than the small, more adorable version of the First Jade, with his chubby cheeks and toothy smile and huge eyes.

Of course he had to hug him!

Contrary to what he wanted - to squeeze the kid like a toy -, he took him into his hands gently, taking care of his precious burden. He was holding him like he never wanted to part from him, and the little body relaxed against his bigger one.

"It's okay, Huan-di, Sang-ge is here for you," he whispered, and it was a shock to even himself that it was the truth. As much as he despised Jin Guangyao and the brotherhood between the two older Sect Leaders, he couldn't hate Lan Xichen.

Especially not Lan Huan.

His hand came up to the back of the kid's head, who buried his head into Nie Huaisang's neck, his breathing tickling the sensitive skin.

"Lan Xichen!" sapped the voice of an angry Lan Qiren. "Sect Leader Nie!" yelled again, sounding offended and aggravated. Nie Huaisang had experience with both of those emotions coming from Teacher Lan. "Put him down immediately! It is highly inappropriate and unacceptable!"

Nie Huaisang's hold on the child only tightened, one of his hands continued to gently caress Lan Huan's back.

"Lan Huan asked me to hug him, and it is my pleasure to finally be able to complete a task right," the Sect Leader of Qinghe said airily, referring to his Headshaker persona.

Lan Qiren spluttered and muttered something about the rules, but Nie Huaisang didn't pay attention to that. No, his focus was only on the precious little boy in his arms.

"Sang-ge's hug is the best!" Smiled Lan Huan sunnily, and Nie Huaisang was defeated.

After a day spent with his favorite boy, he was basically thrown out of Cloud Recesses. He wanted to stay, to know if they found a solution for the de-aging spell, but as he was not a family member nor a well-known expert in this field, his presence was undesirable.

He wanted to stay.

He couldn't. And no information was forthcoming from Cloud Recesses either, the Lans closed their metaphorical gates. He didn't know anything about Lan Huan nor about Lan Xichen, until-

"Sect Leader Lan is asking for permission to see Sect Leader Nie," his discipline stated. It didn't take more than a blink for Nie Huaisang to hurry to the gates, where Lan Xichen was standing, in all his grown up glory.

Lan Huan was the cutest little boy ever.

Lan Xichen was the handsomest, most devastatingly gorgeous man Nie Huaisang had ever seen.

"Er-ge!" He yelled in delight, rushing towards the other Sect Leader.

The man smiled with a mysterious smile, one that hid the mischief nobody would ever believe him that Lan Xichen had, and asked, "Will Pretty Sang-ge hug me again?"

There was only one possible answer to that, really.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #xisang #xisangweek2023 #de-aging #mdzs

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Soldier, Poet, King

Part 11

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

[AO3] [Masterpost]

Heavily implied SongXueXiao in this one, but it can be read as either romantic or platonic I think - they’re all living together (plus A-Qing of course), but I don’t delve at all really into their dynamic or how it happened since it’s not important to the narrative I’m telling. (SongXiao are married and Xue Yang is just kinda There and Super Healthy™ about it lol)

-/-

Lan Xichen – like most people, he would assume – is perfectly capable of recognizing Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen on sight. That doesn’t change the fact that for the long, breathless moment in which it’s silent enough in the lab to hear a pin drop, he has absolutely no idea what he’s looking at.

The last anyone had heard of the two genuinely legendary Mach 1 pilots, they’d disappeared into retirement following their hardest-won Kaiju battle, and though Shanghai’s press statements had already long dried up into the barest bones of information, this had been shocking enough that the truth had slipped through the shatterdome’s tight security.

They’d been injured – badly so, to the point of being nearly unrecognizable (according to sources that claimed to be inside the ‘dome). It had taken months more for further information to leak, and when it had Lan Xichen had selfishly wished that it hadn’t. Acid, right to both of their faces, people around the world had whispered, hushed and fascinated. Xiao Xingchen’s eyes, Song Lan’s tongue – gone! Just like that!

A rumor like that, no matter how much or how little truth it contained, was naturally bound to lead to…assumptions. Mental images that were painful to imagine, but that were nonetheless inescapable, especially for a fellow pilot – someone who lived with the reality of something similar happening at any moment in the course of their work.

And yet here, now, years after their retreat from the world, stand Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan both smiling gently at Nie Mingjue and (mostly) appearing whole and healthy.

“You-” Nie Mingjue starts and attempts to stand before the nodes attached to his temples prevent him from doing so. He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat and makes as if to rip them off, which thankfully galvanizes Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu, at least, into scrambling forward to get them unhooked from their contraption. Wei Wuxian is still frozen staring at their guests from behind the computer bank, but Lan Xichen thinks that’s more than fair considering he knows precisely how much this means to him.

“Us,” Xiao Xingchen replies, still smiling. Lan Xichen gets slowly to his feet as well while the man steps around the desk to allow Nie Mingjue to pull him in for a hug that looks nearly violent, but Xiao Xingchen doesn’t complain. Lan Xichen glances at Song Lan to see him studying Jin Guangyao through slightly narrowed eyes, and without thought Lan Xichen steps in front of his partner to block him partially from view. The last these two had seen of Jin Guangyao, after all, had been his expulsion from Bujing Shi and Nie Mingjue’s subsequent depression after he was gone. He can’t imagine they’re thrilled to see him here now as one of Nie Mingjue’s co-pilots.

“It’s alright, Zewu-Jun.” It takes Lan Xichen a long moment to realize that the deep, smooth, vaguely mechanical voice is, in fact, Song Lan’s, though naturally his lips don’t move along with it. “We do not hold needless grudges.”

Jin Guangyao rests a careful hand on the crook of his elbow, but it still takes a reassuring nod from Song Lan before Lan Xichen steps aside again so that Jin Guangyao can offer the man a bow.

“I feel that my intention to offer further apologies for arriving unannounced is no longer necessary,” Xiao Xingchen says with a hint of a strain for being squeezed so tightly. Nie Mingjue’s suspiciously wet laughter breaks some of the awed tension in the room.

“You know you’re always welcome here, anytime,” Nie Mingjue huffs as he withdraws and slaps Xiao Xingchen’s shoulder hard enough that Lan Xichen is sure he sees the man put genuine effort into not stumbling under the impact. “I never expected to see either of you again. But it seems like things went well in the States? Fixed up your faces and everything, ah?”

Lan Xichen is at once relieved and dismayed by his partner’s shocking lack of tact. Mostly relieved – now that he’s over his shock he’s desperate to know how they’ve recovered from such horrific injuries (that he now knows from Nie Mingjue’s memories that they definitely sustained, and that in fact the gossip had actually downplayed their severity).

“Mm they did, eventually. It was difficult to track down what we needed, but we managed. One of Zichen’s eyes for each of us even though I told Zichen I was fine without it. So yes, eyes for each of us, reconstruction surgery and skin grafts to repair more superficial damage to our necks and faces, and Zichen’s throat. Cybernetic replacements for our non-functional eyes to compensate for the loss. And for a special treat, a thought-to-speech implant for Zichen – one of a kind, from Auntie Baoshan herself.”

Wei Wuxian makes a hastily-muffled noise like a dying cat and Lan Xichen has to duck his head to hide his amusement at his friend’s predicament. For as much as Mo Xuanyu is not subtle at all in his hero worship of Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen knows that Wei Wuxian himself would be hard-pressed to hide his own worship of the Immortal pair even before they’d mentioned Baoshan Sanren (and her work with cybernetics that sound like a mad inventor’s dream).

“Good.” Nie Mingjue’s gruff pronouncement is laced with too many emotions for Lan Xichen to parse through, but he’s sure they’ll have a discussion about it later so he doesn’t mind. “Do you have quarters picked out yet?”

“Not here,” Song Lan says, turning his unreadable look – made more so by the nigh-on unnatural stillness of his face – on Nie Mingjue again. “We do not wish to be any trouble.”

“We already have a place in town, if you don’t mind sparing us in the evenings,” Xiao Xingchen adds smoothly, his smile apologetic even as his tone brooks no argument. “But we will stay and discuss whatever you’d like until curfew, we traveled at a comfortable pace and we are well-rested.”

“I need to go over the experiment we just finished with the research team,” Nie Mingjue says with a gesture towards their ‘peanut gallery’, as Jin Guangyao had called them, who are once again all behind the row of monitors watching this all play out in front of them with wide eyes. “You remember my brother Huaisang?”

“We do,” Xiao Xingchen smiles. Nie Huaisang flutters his fan in a weak little wave.

“The other two are Mo Xuanyu, the youngest Kaiju genius in the world -” Mo Xuanyu flushes crimson at the praise and offers a shaky bow - “And Wei Wuxian, one of the three Heroes of Yunmeng, and Lan Wangji’s new co-pilot in Immortal Mountain.”

“Of course, your career is very impressive, Wei-gongzi. We look forward to meeting with you properly in a little while,” Xiao Xingchen says with a nod for Wei Wuxian, who looks ready to pass out any moment. “Please don’t let us keep you from your duties, we merely wanted to say hello as soon as possible, lest word of our arrival precede us. We were hoping to go see Immortal Mountain next..?”

“I can take you,” Lan Xichen offers before he can think twice about it. “I believe Wangji is observing her maintenance crew this morning, as well, if you’d like to meet him.”

Lan Xichen isn’t quite prepared for the twin bows the two offer him, genteel and graceful.

“Thank you, Zewu-Jun, we’ll follow your lead then.”

Lan Xichen isn’t often at a loss for words. For all that he was raised in relative isolation compared to the vast majority of people, it had been instilled in him since he was a young boy that he should know how to comport himself at all times. And then, following his and Lan Wangji’s descent from their mountain home into training centers and shatterdomes at the start of the war, he’d learned quickly, naturally, how to make up for his brother’s lack of speech that most people found disconcerting at best, if not downright rude.

It’s an extremely unpleasant moment, then, when he realizes that he’s alone with two of his teenage heroes, and he has absolutely no clue what to say to them. Were it not for the fact that he knows Lan Wangji genuinely doesn’t care one bit if the people around him are uncomfortable, he would wonder how his brother can stand it.

“I hope you aren’t upset to see new pilots in Immortal Mountain,” he finally manages when they come to a junction, the perpendicular corridors bustling with enough people that the noise soothes some of the awkward tension – enough for Lan Xichen to find his metaphorical footing again, anyway. People naturally stop to gawk at them as they pass through the jostling and clanging space, but neither Song Lan nor Xiao Xingchen seem to take too much notice of it.

“Not at all,” Xiao Xingchen soothes, lips tipped up at the corners again right on cue. “Surprised, I suppose, that anyone would still wish to pilot a Mach 1 even when poorer shatterdomes than Shanghai can boast much newer tech, but not at all upset.”

“My brother and Wei Wuxian are both enamored with Immortal Mountain for a variety of reasons. Wangji is quite fond of tradition and is pleased to be able to honor the first generation of pilots in this way; Wei Wuxian is an engineering genius who would probably like to take Immortal Mountain apart down to her every last nut and bolt to figure out how she works were he not asked to pilot her instead.”

“Good hands for her, then,” Song Lan says simply, and that’s that. Lan Xichen leads them along another corridor, the walls now cluttered with more and more pipes and steam vents as they approach the Jaeger bays. He’s certain that the others know this shatterdome even better than he does and need no direction through their old stomping grounds, but they allow him to lead them the rest of the way down to the echoing caverns of Bays 1 and 2 without complaint.

Unlike the day they’d arrived from Tokyo, Bay 1, home to Immortal Mountain, is now as brightly lit as Bay 2 next to it. Also unlike that first day, repairs have ceased on Sparks Amidst Snow, the Jaeger silent and gleaming perfect, ready to be sent out on the next Kaiju run. All the cacophony of a working bay is coming from Immortal Mountain, maintenance crew members everywhere he can see swarming like ants as they work on bringing the Jaeger back into working order as quickly as Jin Guangshan has demanded to save face. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have already taken her out for the exhibition run, of course, but a quick step out into town for a wave and publicity shots does not at all translate to the old Mach 1 behemoth being ready to get dropped into the ocean and pitted against stronger and faster Kaiju than she had been designed to fight.

Lan Xichen steps away from his companions with the excuse of looking for Lan Wangji to give them a moment of privacy as they’re faced with their Jaeger after years away from it. He spots his brother a few levels up from where they’ve entered on the ground floor, little more than a speck of white at this distance where he’s standing on one of the catwalks near Immortal Mountain’s thighs covered in massive hydraulic pistons and backup weapons the size of typical suburban houses. He snags the closest grease-smudged crew member he recognizes from Tokyo and requests that they please use their comms to get someone to tell Lan Wangji to come down and find him, and only then does he return to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen.

“Wangji will join us shortly,” he reports, and…runs out of words. Again. He must have a fever or something.

“Zewu-Jun,” Song Lan interrupts his moment of dismay, lips quirked up ever so slightly into a smirk, the most obvious facial expression he’s made yet. “You seem to have something on your mind.”

Lan Xichen smiles politely around the shape of the invasive and utterly inappropriate question that immediately springs to the tip of his tongue.

Xiao Xingchen’s gaze is shrewd over his ever-smiling lips as he says, “You would hardly be the first person to ask what happened to us, Zewu-Jun, if that’s what you’re curious about.”

Despite the flush in his ears, Lan Xichen offers them a bow that’s more than half-apology, his smile twisting towards rueful. “Ah..I have only just seen your injury for the first time in Mingjue’s memories today. I hope you will forgive me, but seeing you hale and hearty immediately after is…surprising. My apologies.”

Xiao Xingchen’s gaze softens. “No apologies necessary, Zewu-Jun. We were quite lucky to have found Auntie Baoshan when we did to help us, and the process of healing has been harder than it may seem now when you’re seeing us as healed as we'll ever be.”

It is perhaps Xiao Xingchen’s gentle understanding and Song Lan’s calm, non-judgmental aura that loosens his tongue enough to blurt, “Do you really have one of Song-daozhang’s eyes?” It’s only his years spent in Lan Qiren’s comportment lessons that keep him from clapping his hand over his mouth like a child catching themselves in a lie.

“Xingchen is an ungrateful husband and wouldn’t accept both of them,” Song Lan says, so deadpan in the flat, mechanical way of early computer speech that Lan Xichen can’t help but be shocked into laughter. It’s probably for the best that his next questions (which ones are Song Lan’s eyes? Do the prosthetic eyes do anything interesting since they were designed by the genius Baoshan Sanren?) are cut off mercifully at the knees by Lan Wangji’s arrival. Lan Xichen feels his face light up in happy recognition the moment he spots his brother over his companions’ shoulders, and so he has the pleasure of watching Lan Wangji jerk to a stop in shock when the Immortal pair turn around in synch to see what he’s looking at for themselves.

“Ah. Hanguang-Jun,” Song Lan greets with a nod that Xiao Xingchen mirrors beside him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lan Wangji blinks three times in quick succession before he steps forward again to finish closing the distance between them, and Lan Xichen hides an indulgent smile behind his hand at his brother’s startled awe. He covers it well enough by dipping into a deeply respectful bow, though there’s no hiding how starstruck he is (at least not from Lan Xichen anyway) when Xiao Xingchen reaches out to pull him out of it again with a gentle hand under his forearm.

“It’s alright, we’re all equals here,” Xiao Xingchen is quick to soothe. “You’re a pilot for Immortal Mountain now too, after all, aren’t you?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji recovers enough to respond, though his eyes are still a bit too wide. “With Wei Ying.”

“Yes, of course. We just met your Wei Wuxian downstairs, and naturally everyone’s heard of his incredible innovations – even those as removed from the news cycle as we are.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t bother hiding his fond smile when praising Wei Wuxian and his work turns out to be precisely the correct way to make Lan Wangji loosen up enough to push past his surprise, his lips and the corners of his eyes softening ever so slightly as he nods (though Lan Xichen is sure he’s the only one present who can see that as a sign of his brother relaxing).

“Wangji, I should go back down to research for the debrief. Would you mind escorting our guests for the day?”

“Mn. An honor,” Lan Wangji says, as cursed with the Lan Sincerity™ (as Wei Wuxian has coined it) as Lan Xichen himself is. “I was observing the repair of a patch of deteriorated armor,” he adds, his attention solely on Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. “If you would prefer not to do so, we may do something else.”

Song Lan’s smooth, mechanical voice is a visible balm to Lan Wangji’s startled tension, his brother’s shoulders sliding down the inch or so they’d crept up towards his ears when the man says, “No, that sounds good. We’ve already seen one old friend here, it’s time to say hello to the other.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji says nothing else before he turns on his heel to march back the way he’d come, slowly enough that Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan have enough time to offer Lan Xichen small twin smiles and quiet thanks before they take their leave. Lan Xichen watches them go until they disappear back in the direction of the lifts to the upper levels of the bay. Only once they’re out of sight does he give into the temptation to shake himself all over like a wet dog and pinch himself on the arm for good measure.

If anyone had told him when he’d still been in Tokyo that coming to Shanghai would mean meeting and befriending (and romancing) so many fascinating people – people that he’s looked up to for so many years – he never would have believed it. Still can’t entirely believe it, honestly, though his completed drift with Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao is strong evidence that he can’t possibly refute that all of this is really happening.

Teeth and brain thoroughly rattled (yet everything still exactly as it had been moments before), Lan Xichen turns his feet once again towards the corridors that’ll take him back to his partners, and has to put genuine effort into keeping himself from running pell mell down them just to see them sooner. 

 -/-

 “Close your mouth, Wei,” Nie Mingjue gruffs once Lan Xichen has left with Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen in tow. When Wei Wuxian stays frozen staring at the doorway, Nie Mingjue cuffs him (lightly) on the back of the head to get him in gear and the man startles out of his stunned stupor with a little yelp and an overly-theatrical rub at the back of his head that can’t possibly be smarting just from that.

“Holy shit,” he breathes and looks around as if to check that everyone else saw what he did. “Holy fucking shit!!”

“You have a job to do before you’re free to go ask for their autograph,” Nie Mingjue reminds him, though he’s relatively sure he can trust Wei Wuxian not to do something so shameless as that, even if they are his heroes. (He abruptly remembers his and Lan Wangji’s extremely shameless nightly endeavors and adjusts that ‘relatively sure’ to something more like ‘desperately hopes’.)

With a loud snap of his fingers in front of Wei Wuxian’s shining eyes he adds,“Talk to me about the Drift, Wei,” and that, finally, seems to get the man’s hyperactive mind back on the right track. Talking about his work usually does, even if little else is capable of doing so.

“Right! Drift. Uhhhh yep, yeah, here’s your readout, everything is honestly textbook perfect. We’ll probably get you to do it here in the simulator again a few more times under slightly different conditions each time just to make sure everything goes smoothly each time you Drift and make sure it can happen as quickly as it needs to now that you’ve established the connection, but yeah you guys are good. You won’t be able to Drift without the accommodations we made, that’s already well established, but with all three of you in there to distribute the neural load and with the dampers on each of your connections to make sure you don’t burn yourselves out like me, you can Drift just like anyone else out in the field, no problem.”

Nie Mingjue glares down at the long roll of paper covered in incomprehensible figures that Wei Wuxian had handed him and is eternally glad that the only men in the room who can likely tell he’s about to cry are his brother and Jin Guangyao, both of whom are too busy fussing over their precious Drift rig to notice.

He can Drift again. Properly. Without hurting either of his partners – men he would die for in a heartbeat, without an ounce of regret. He doesn’t have to hold Jin Guangyao back anymore. He can be who his partner wants. Who Jin Guangyao needs.

“I mean not that I’d recommend the three of you hopping in a Jaeger to join the rotation – ah..hah not that I’m doubting your judgment, Chifeng-zun! Do whatever you think best, of course. But obviously one of the biggest risks with three-man teams is losing all three pilots in a fight, which is just…numerically a bigger problem than losing two! But of course you already know that, ha..”

“Wei Wuxian, if you don’t get ahold of yourself in the next ten seconds I’m grounding you for the next two weeks,” Nie Mingjue growls to try to cover his own Moment, though Jin Guangyao looks up at him at that precise moment and it’s no use trying to hide how much he’s affected by all of this.

“Mingjue, be nice,” his partner chastises. “You’re just as rattled as he is to see the Immortals, and they’re not even your childhood crushes.”

“Crushes?!” Wei Wuxian yelps. “They’re not..I didn’t…Their work is just very inspiring, okay?! Everyone in Asia is fascinated by them!”

“It’s okay, Wei-laoshi,” Mo Xuanyu says sweetly, his own celebrity crush still apparently going strong even after spending weeks working in close quarters with all of Wei Wuxian’s chaos. If anything it’s probably gotten a bit worse. “I understand perfectly.”

“You still have posters of Wei-xiong wallpapering your bunk, of course you understand,” Nie Huaisang snorts and their stupid back and forth helps settle some of the things that have rattled loose in Nie Mingjue’s chest, at least for now. He’ll probably have to talk about it all with Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen later, but for now he doesn’t have the luxury of giving into his emotions – nor would he want to, what with their current audience being what it is.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao murmurs at his side as the other three bicker happily back and forth, none of them apparently embarrassed at all by their own behavior. He doesn’t say anything else; he doesn’t have to. Nie Mingjue slings his free arm around his slender waist (a rare show of PDA that he normally wouldn’t allow) then decides to just go for broke and ducks down to press a lingering kiss to the top of his head. Jin Guangyao leans into him easily and reaches over to take the readout from his other hand. Nie Mingjue relinquishes it easily of course – it’s Jin Guangyao who reads the same sorts of data from the computers up in the comms tower anyway, Nie Mingjue can never get his eyes to focus long enough to make heads or tails of them and usually just winds up with migraines for trying.

“Thoughts?”

“Wei Wuxian is correct. It’s textbook, right down to our heartbeats once we completed the Drift.”

Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in and turns slightly, just enough to block Jin Guangyao from the view of the others in the room with his body. His partner blinks up at him, eyes deep and unfathomable.

“You can be a pilot, A-Yao. With me.”

The naked want that crosses Jin Guangyao’s expression nearly hurts to look at, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t look away. They haven’t gotten as far as they have now by flinching in the face of each other’s most vulnerable moments.

“We…We have to talk it over with Huan-ge,” Jin Guangyao says with clear difficulty. “And approach battle cautiously, as Wei Wuxian has suggested. Just because we can Drift properly does not mean we can fight, particularly with the issues you and I have with just seeing a Kaiju on a screen. And we can’t exactly leave the ‘dome in just anyone’s hands if all three of us are out there anyway.”

“I know. But-”

“Not yet,” Jin Guangyao interrupts him, softening the sharp bite in his tone with soft, apologetic hands petting the lapels of his jacket, smoothing over his chest as Jin Guangyao looks up at him again with a tiny smile. “I’ll tell you when, alright? Just trust me.”

“Always do,” Nie Mingjue says, because these days it’s the unquestionable truth. Jin Guangyao smiles a little more widely up at him, dimples in his cheeks, and it’s only the sound of the other three horsing around behind him that keeps him from leaning down to kiss those dimples as he and Lan Xichen both love so much to do.

“Ah…Chifeng-Zun?” Mo Xuanyu hazards a moment later. Nie Mingjue has had more than enough bad news delivered to him in his life to know that he’s not going to like whatever the boy has to say next. Still, he doesn’t even sigh before he turns around to look down at him, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to wait until after your Drift to tell you, but..I’ve finished decoding what I can understand of Xue-laoshi’s notes.”

It takes a supreme act of will not to curl his lip in disgust at the respectful title for that rabid dog of a man, but it’s not an argument he wants to have right now – not with Mo Xuanyu, and not with Jin Guangyao either, despite the fact that he knows that the main reason the man hasn’t been put down yet is because of Jin Guangyao’s protection and assurances to Jin Guangshan that Xue Yang is more useful than he is harmful, at least for their purposes. Nie Mingjue disagrees – heartily and vocally – but he’s not feeling up for a shouting match at the moment so he lets it slide. For now.

“And?”

“Wen-daifu wasn’t lying to Yao-ge before. It’s his fault the Kaiju are coming faster, and that they know who to target and where and how.”

Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in, holds it, and releases Jin Guangyao’s waist to turn around properly with his arms crossed over his chest as he exhales again to try to find his very shallow reserves of patience. “Tell me. Start from the beginning.”

Mo Xuanyu takes a deep breath in of his own as he turns to his computer to start furiously clicking and typing through screen after screen in quick succession until Nie Mingjue is fairly sure they’re all looking at the unencrypted contents of the hard drive that Wen Qing had said contains Xue Yang’s records. The labels of the files are incomprehensible to Nie Mingjue, but Mo Xuanyu starts navigating them with the ease of the hours he’s spent poring over them in between his study of past battles and Kaiju biology.

(Nie Mingjue thinks a bit ruefully that he works his brother and Mo Xuanyu far too hard, but there’s just no one else he trusts to handle such sensitive material, and the fewer hands it passes through the better anyway. Unfortunately, it seems to be his lot in life to make all sorts of uncomfortable or less-than-savory decisions such as this, even when it’s his family involved. He just has to hope that the time in which it’s necessary is coming to an end soon.)

“Okay. So – Xue Yang. Obsessed with Wei Wuxian’s work in Kaiju research, we all know this, he’s never bothered to hide it. But Wei-laoshi has had a lot of ideas that have never been put to the test – because they shouldn’t be, either because they’re either extremely dangerous, highly unethical, or both. Usually both.”

Wei Wuxian laughs a little sheepishly but pointedly doesn’t correct his newest mentee in these assertions. He doesn’t have to – they all know Mo Xuanyu is telling nothing but the truth.

“The difference between Wei-laoshi and Xue-laoshi though is that Xue-laoshi will do anything if it sounds interesting enough, no matter how much he really shouldn’t, especially when he’s not here for us to keep an eye on.”

“You don’t have to explain that dog or his madness to me,” Nie Mingjue growls. “Just tell me what he did so we can fix it.”

“Sure, boss. He Drifted with a Kaiju.”

The silence that follows that statement is absolute, and for a brief moment Nie Mingjue has the blissful thought that he’s definitely misheard, or at least misunderstood. The momentary illusion is shattered by Wei Wuxian leaning in close enough to grab Mo Xuanyu by the shoulder and turn him around, his ancient leather office chair squeaking in protest at the sudden movement.

“He did what?!” Wei Wuxian yelps, sounding far more terrified than Nie Mingjue would have ever guessed he could.

“Drifted with a Kaiju brain, harvested fresh right after a battle near Tokyo when it was still alive enough to talk to the rest of them wherever they are. So…I don’t think we actually can fix this one, if I’m being honest, if my guesses are correct about what this all means in the long run.”

“That’s…I thought about doing that once! And I immediately followed it up with at least a dozen reasons not to do it right off the top of my head! Even at my worst I wasn’t insane enough to actually try it!!”

“Reasons which I’m sure he saw in your journal and immediately ignored because as we all know, he’s fucking insane,” Mo Xuanyu says with a shrug. Nie Mingjue has to fight the urge to rub at his temple to alleviate a tension headache he can feel looming, completely irrespective of the Drift experiment he’d just finished with his partners.

“Alright, so Xue Yang Drifted with a motherfucking Kaiju. What now? How did this happen, and will it happen again?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Mo Xuanyu trills and turns back to his computer to begin pulling up a new round of records as he talks. “The short answer is no, it won’t happen again. It really fried up Xue Yang’s brain according to Tokyo’s head doctor’s notes during his assessment of him afterwards, I don’t think even Wei-laoshi could design something to accommodate him in the Drift. I don’t think Baoshan Sanren could design him something, and I’ll bet a month’s worth of snack rations that he tried to ask for it while he was following the Immortals around the States during their miracle healing.

“But to answer how he made it happen –” Mo Xuanyu sits back again and gestures at the rows and rows of figures on his screen, each one attached to a coded name that he’s decoded into a separate document pulled up next to it for their benefit.

“Wen Ruohan’s finances?” Jin Guangyao asks, startled. “Why did he keep — ah, of course. Insurance.”

“Blackmail, Yao-ge, call it what it is,” Mo Xuanyu huffs. “~Blackmail for a black soul doing black deeds for the black market~,” he singsongs in falsetto under his breath next and for a moment it’s eerily like Xue Yang and his love for levity when it’s least appropriate. Nie Mingjue swallows back the urge to tell him to cut it out in favor of asking something much more pressing.

“Are we implicated in this should any of it be found out by the public?”

“Hmmmm yes and no, Chifeng-Zun,” Mo Xuanyu shrugs again and swivels his chair around again to blink up at them. “ ‘We’ as in Shanghai Shatterdome? Oh yeah, no doubt about it, we’d be doing damage control for months probably. ‘We’ as in any of us personally who aren’t Father or Xue-laoshi? Harder to say.”

Jin Guangyao hums, “Mm. Tell me what Father’s involvement is specifically.”

Nie Mingjue knows that tone in his voice too well. Almost unconsciously he begins a countdown in the back of his mind, and he can’t find it in himself to be too upset to realize that Jin Guangshan’s days are very much numbered – likely not beyond double digits.

“Uhhh well…. Okay : If you’re the obscenely wealthy patron of a shatterdome with an already questionable reputation because of nepotism and historically shitty pilots and all, plus a policy of keeping a tight lid on information about your inner workings in a way that makes people a bit suspicious already, what do you do when you want to do highly unethical and dangerous experiments using Kaiju parts?”

“Outsource it,” Jin Guangyao says shortly. It’s curt enough that Nie Mingjue is sure he’s already figured out whatever it is that they’re being led toward. He gestures for Mo Xuanyu to keep talking anyway, since he’s not afraid to admit he’s not quite as quick-witted as Jin Guangyao is, nor as good at thinking along the same lines crooked men do.

“Right — you get someone else to do your dirty work. Someone whose reputation is big and bad enough that nobody messes with them anymore.”

“We already knew he was working with Wen Ruohan,” Nie Mingjue growls. “Tell me what I don’t know.”

“Wen Ruohan is only a small part of it, actually. But okay, so! If you want to run experiments on Kaijus in the tight privacy of a private lab you have a lot of logistical problems to consider – most of them can be solved by working on parts. Tiny bits of corpses. Cutting dead Kaijus up into pieces and dragging the pieces in here. Which we do! Every shatterdome in the world does that, and for the most part it’s on the up and up, we only take the bits we need to study, right? Acid sacs and eyeballs and exoskeleton chunks – and what we’re pretty sure are maybe meant to be their bones even though sometimes they’re like really weirdly squidgy-“

Nie Mingjue’s patience is not improving one bit. “Make a point, Xuanyu!”

“You start a black market! That’s the point. You play the long game and start a black market. Kaiju parts on the cheap to people who will turn around and jack the prices way up when they’re selling it to their contacts and then give you a good cut. When your buyers have driven the prices high enough, you start taking a cut of the physical spoils too – your finances stay consistent, but you siphon off which Kaiju pieces you want for your experiments while selling the rest for more money to cover the gap. You store the Kaiju parts in the warehouse where the corpses are already dismembered anyway, you have your people mark them all as ‘sold to private bidder’ just like the other black market shit that actually makes it out the door. Then you hang onto them yourself until it’s time to go pay a visit to your dear friend in Tokyo, perhaps to begin negotiating a legitimate Pilot Program deal for a totally random example, and you bring along a little gift – plus someone who has some really batshit insane ideas for what to do with them.”

“Xue Yang.”

“Exactly. So you take your Kaiju bits and your certifiably mad scientist over to Tokyo, and you let Wen Ruohan’s reputation keep away any nosy reporters wondering what the hell you’re working on in there. Then, once you’re not being watched anymore because this is all clearly legitimate, you let your mad scientist try Drifting with a Kaiju to see what happens.”

The stunned silence in the room is interrupted only by the sound of severely overworked computer fans trying to keep up with the sheer volume of programs Mo Xuanyu is running and the never-ending background noise of the rest of the ‘dome above their heads.

“All of that all these years just to ultimately have Xue Yang Drift with a Kaiju?” Jin Guangyao finally asks.

“Yep!”

“Why?” Nie Huaisang finally manages to demand – the first thing he’s managed to say during the whole explanation  – sounding as horrified as Nie Mingjue has ever heard him. “Why Drift with the Kaiju at all?! Even Wei-xiong’s notes said it probably would be useless considering they’re literally completely alien to us. How would we even understand what we’re seeing, if you can overcome physiological differences long enough for it to work in the first place? What’s the point?”

“Wars make money if you’re the one selling the dead,” Nie Mingjue grunts, disgusted and more than a little nauseous with it. “If you can find some way to tell your enemy valuable information about your defenses — like who to attack and how and where — then you’re guaranteed fresh meat delivered right to your doorstep, ready to be sold, and terrified people ready to pay you any amount of money to protect them from the monsters you called to their door. And with Xuanyu’s prediction algorithm getting better and better…”

“Always follow the money,” Wei Wuxian pipes up, the same disgust Nie Mingjue feels dripping from each word. “Men like Jin Guangshan and Wen Ruohan? It’s all about the money, and everyone at the bottom dies for it. Is any of this really a surprise in the end?”

“The lengths that they will go to to accomplish these things is somehow still unfortunately a surprise, yes,” Jin Guangyao mutters darkly at his side. Nie Mingjue wonders briefly if he should attempt to comfort him – this is his father’s doing, after all – but thinks better of it when he glances down to catch a glimpse of the look in his partner’s eyes. Hard, cold, and so familiarly deadly it puts a chill up Nie Mingjue’s spine. He doesn’t think that he and Lan Xichen will be able to distract him this time.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to distract him.

This is no longer a matter of personal distaste for Jin Guangshan and the way he treats everything under the ‘dome’s roof like it’s a business deal. This is no longer a matter of personal safety, or the safety of only his pilots, or of the population of the Shanghai Shatterdome, or the entire sprawling city of Shanghai itself. Jin Guangshan, in his greed for money and delusions of power, has endangered the entire human race. Of course he knows that Xue Yang is far from innocent in this and he’d love to get rid of that mongrel too, but he knows who the driving force really is behind all of this. If not Xue Yang, then Jin Guangshan would have found another tool to use to the same ends. Perhaps his tool would have even been Jin Guangyao, had Jin Guangshan played his cards right once upon a time.

Nie Mingjue glances down at Jin Guangyao beside him again to find the man already looking up at him, steel and fire in his wide, dark eyes. Between the two of them, no words are needed. He knows Jin Guangyao can read his (begrudging, but unflinching) acceptance of what needs to be done in the set of his mouth, the angle of his brows…or however the fuck it is Jin Guangyao always knows how to read him like a book. He’s never revealed his secrets when Nie Mingjue has asked.

Jin Guangyao slips his hand into Nie Mingjue’s and doesn’t break eye contact as he says, “A-Sang, we’re going out tonight. Time to see how good your informers really are.”

Nie Mingjue raises their joined hands to press a short kiss to Jin Guangyao’s knuckles before his partner withdraws and storms off at a sharp, precise clip without another word until he steps aside just inside the door to allow Lan Xichen to re-enter the lab, looking the tiniest bit flushed, like he’d jogged the whole way down from the Jaeger bays.

“What’s wrong?” Lan Xichen asks, as perceptive to everyone’s moods as ever. “A-Yao?”

“Come here, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue calls, finding himself desperately wanting the softness the man can offer him that Jin Guangyao usually can’t, even under much better circumstances. “There’s something you need to see.”

“Don’t wait up for me tonight, Huan-ge. I’ll see you both in the morning,” Jin Guangyao murmurs, and he gives Lan Xichen the same squeeze of their hands that he’d given Nie Mingjue before he sweeps away properly, footsteps echoing steadily back down the hallway — a death knell, if ever Nie Mingjue has heard one.

 -/-

 Jin Guangyao knows, logically, that of course the way that he lives is not normal. Normal people don’t spend their days holed up in a deteriorating sprawling military facility centering their life around the same twenty-or-so people on any given day and mind-bogglingly massive interdimensional murder aliens. He knows this, and he’s never once claimed to be normal, not even before his life was exactly that.

But stepping out of the gloomy austerity of the ‘dome into the dazzling nightlife of Shanghai still feels like waking out of a vaguely unsettling not-quite-nightmare only to be doused immediately in sticky sweet, neon-colored alcohol and way too much cologne.

“Ooo Yao-ge, this way!” Nie Huaisang shouts excitedly, tugging on his arm. His face is splashed with so many colors off the signs around them it’s difficult to settle on one, but his teeth flash red in the glare of the closest bar’s advertisement, something bold and oversized that he doesn’t bother to read. Jin Guangyao lets himself be towed around, for once, and simply does his best to avoid bumping into the people crowded into the street with them — there’s far more bare skin and cleavage and cocktail-redolent laughter than he would like, and he thinks longingly of his partners probably getting settled in for the evening right this very minute in their quarters without him.

Nie Huaisang tugs him to the left at some signal Jin Guangyao doesn’t bother attempting to identify and he follows. Nie Huaisang pulls him down a short alleyway out into the next block of neon highrises. Here in the heart of the city they tower over everything, level after level after level of pleasure and fun advertised in every shade of neon imaginable, each shade somehow searingly bright enough to make his teeth hurt. Down here, in the pulsing, growling belly of it all, Jin Guangyao feels himself drowning, getting lost in the throngs and looking up into the night sky so far away it’s nearly impossible to see. Criss-crossing wires and sky bridges and the forced perspective of visual noise gradually fading up up up into the blackness of space leave him dizzy with vertigo if he looks for more than a moment.

Jin Guangyao drops his eyes back down to Nie Huaisang’s back just ahead of him in the crush and reminds himself of their agreed-upon task for the evening as a distraction.

“Ahh here we are!” Nie Huaisang finally cries, releasing Jin Guangyao’s wrist for the first time since they left the ‘dome in favor of throwing his arms wide as if to hug the building they’ve stopped in front of. As far as their surroundings go, this place sticks out like a sore thumb. Not a hint of neon on the place, not even a backlit sign board. Instead, a flickering spotlight — dim and yellow, the cheapest bulb money can buy — offers up a dingy epithet with no other context. White background, big black vinyl letters: The Cockpit.

“A-Sang,” Jin Guangyao interrupts, smile fixed where it should be with cutting precision. “I am not here to prevent your being stabbed for the sake of a subpar back alley blowjob -“

“That was one time, Yao-ge, and they only nicked me a little! I’m telling you, if he’s in Shanghai, which we have every reason to believe he is, then he’s here. I’m sure of it.”

Jin Guangyao eyes the bar again, just as dubiously as the first time. The place is a black hole amongst all the glittering allure of the nightlife around it, a shabby brick-and-mortar nothing little hole in the wall. Unfortunately, this all tracks far too well for Jin Guangyao to doubt his friend.

He heaves a world weary sigh, dodges a drunken lurch with an accompanying grope from someone passing behind them, and waves Nie Huaisang forward with an imperious gesture. “Let’s go.” He sighs again; the ‘let’s just get this over with’ is perfectly implicit.

The interior of the club is, somehow, even darker than the outside. Or it at least feels that way, the ceiling low enough that Jin Guangyao has to fight the urge to duck despite the ceiling being nowhere near his head. Much like the exterior, everything inside, even the floor, is painted a deep black that absorbs the low light thrown off by a collection of dark-shaded lamps he can count on both hands for the entire club.

It’s loud enough the moment they step into the space that Jin Guangyao has to watch Nie Huaisang’s gesturing hands to figure out where to go, and he follows the wordless instruction to go find them a table while Nie Huaisang buys them a round of drinks. Even if he could speak and be heard he knows his protests would fall on conveniently deaf ears so he just does as instructed, picking his way slowly through shadows and tables and the blurring outlines of the club’s patrons until he finds an empty table near the back. The music is slightly less deafening with a couple of half-walls in the middle of the space to block it, though of course the pounding bass is inescapable. It reverberates through the thick soles of Jin Guangyao’s standard issue boots and around all the hollow spaces in his chest until he feels less like a man and more like a drum for some unseen fists to pound on.

Nie Huaisang finds him surprisingly quickly under the circumstances, and when he slides into his seat with an overdramatic flounce Jin Guangyao ushers the drinks he’d deposited closer to the center of the table to avoid any of them sloshing free of their glasses.

“He’s here,” Nie Huaisang leans in to shout in his ear. “Just have a drink and wait.”

Jin Guangyao nods to show he’s heard and reaches for the less offensive-looking option of the drinks Nie Huaisang has brought. Almost all of them are some shade of sickly sweet artificiality and he suspects the presence of far too much flavored vodka in them, but there’s a dark purple something glittering in the dim lighting that seems safe enough so he takes it, sipping at it carefully in tiny little mouthfuls until he’s sure it won’t make his teeth feel like they’re going to vibrate out of his skull.

He’s made it most of the way through the purple thing – enough of it swirling through his head that he thinks it’s actually pretty good now – and grown numb to the thundering music when a dark shadow seems to oooooze its way out of the press of too many bodies in the cramped spaces between tables to slip into the only unoccupied seat at their table on Nie Huaisang’s other side.

“Hey babes,” Xue Yang greets, too quietly to be heard over the din, but Jin Guangyao can manage to read his lips. The predatory grin stretching across his manically expressive face needs no interpretation to know he’s up to no good, but Jin Guangyao just sips at his drink and watches Nie Huaisang tip his neck enough to let Xue Yang lean in and nibble at him in greeting. (There is a Reason, capital R, that Nie Huaisang comes out to places like this, and once upon a time Xue Yang had been one of his regular hookups until they’d gotten bored of each other’s neuroses and settled into a weirdly combative and flirtatious truce. Jin Guangyao doesn’t like being reminded of that period of their lives too often, since they’d both been completely insufferable throughout it.)

Nie Huaisang allows the necking for roughly half a minute before he catches Jin Guangyao’s raised eyebrow and swats Xue Yang away with his closed fan, eyes a little unfocused from the trio of cocktails he’s already downed with impressive disregard for how they must taste.

“You’ve really done it this time, Xue-xiong,” Nie Huaisang pouts, somehow loud enough that Jin Guangyao can just hear him over the music. “Messing around with Kaiju brains? Naughty naughty.”

Xue Yang throws his head back to cackle, his long, sharp canines teeth glinting strangely in the lamplight. “Finally figured it out?! Took you long enough, I heard you got hold of my notes weeks ago! ~Someone’s out of practice~!” Jin Guangyao grinds his teeth around the urge to smile at Xue Yang’s sing-songy needling, his ability to pick up on and prod at sore spots as unerring as ever. Right on cue, Nie Huaisang pouts and hits him with the fan again, hard enough this time that Jin Guangyao knows it must’ve actually stung at least a little (though naturally pain is not exactly a deterrent for Xue Yang).

“I have better things to do than read through all your batshit ramblings, Xue-xiong! A-Yu is doing it, I’m still mad at you for destroying all my trackers.”

“Shoulda hid one in my ass if you wanted me to keep any of them,” Xue Yang snorts and makes a grab for the last drink on the table, something blood-red and glittering like Jin Guangyao’s had been. “At least then I could’ve had some fun with it before I took it out back and shot it.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation we could continue somewhere that won’t permanently destroy our hearing,” Jin Guangyao offers, grimacing at the sight of Xue Yang licking his cocktail-red lips with an overly theatrical eyebrow waggle, the glass already drained in three massive gulps.

“Sure, Yao-ge, whatever you say! Let me show you to my ~office~.”

Said ‘office’ is a room (to be very very loose with the word) made out of moldering crates in the suspiciously damp back alley behind the bar. Jin Guangyao doesn’t bother resisting the urge to rub at his temples as the fire door swings shut behind them with a loud clang that reverberates off the brick walls tight around them.

“Your existence both terrifies and disgusts me.”

“Aww, I missed you too, Yao-ge.”

Jin Guangyao sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, leveling an unimpressed Look at Xue Yang sprawling out over the staggered stack of the crates like they’re the most comfortable throne in the world. It’s just as dim back here as it had been inside, perhaps moreso, but at least the music is now nothing more than a thumping he can feel only in the soles of his boots, so it’s…debatably an upgrade.

“So – you finally came to find me. Took you long enough! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know you’re supposed to come back to the ‘dome if you’re in Shanghai,” Nie Huaisang pouts as he sits down on Xue Yang’s shins hard enough to make the crates creak ominously and Xue Yang winces around the lollipop stick between his teeth, though whether that’s from the damage to his shins or from the thought of coming back to the shatterdome is unclear.

“No can do, Sangsang. Got too many projects out here, you know how it is.”

“Projects like trying to figure out how to get the Kaijus to work for the worst men imaginable?”

Xue Yang’s creeping grin grows so wide Jin Guangyao personally believes it shouldn’t be allowed to exist on a human face, predatory and sharp at the edges, his lollipop stick trapped in the gap between his abnormally sharp canine and its counterpoint in his lower jaw.

“How’s Daddy Mustache liking that one?” Xue Yang asks him, not even bothering to pretend to deny it. “He figured it out? Pissed? Gonna come after me lecturing me about righteousness and seducing me with threats to chop my head off just like old times?”

“Mingjue has more on his mind than the actions of one unhinged man,” Jin Guangyao says smoothly despite the fact that everyone present knows precisely what he really means. It’s hard to just turn off a lifetime of self-preserving lies, even now, even with the two men – besides his partners – who know him more thoroughly than anyone else.

“So you haven’t told him the full extent yet because it will ruin so many of your elaborate schemes if you tattle on little old me and get me tied up nice and tight again so I can’t work my magic,” Xue Yang translates in that obnoxious way he has of yes, getting to the point, but doing it in such a way that’s so irritating Jin Guangyao’s first instinct is still to double down on his lies. But Nie Huaisang’s gaze is just as sharp on him over the edge of his fan, a silent warning away from old habits that got him in hot water before, so he takes a deep breath and sweetens his smile, unnervingly saccharine and perfect. A counterpoint to Xue Yang’s feral grin.

“Yes. I have a vested interest in making sure you continue to walk free for a little longer, dangerous as that might be for the general populace and every piece of candy within a ten mile radius.”

Xue Yang throws his head back to cackle again and when he sits forward again he slings his arms around Nie Huaisang’s waist to tug him up onto his knees instead of his shins, resting his head on his shoulder to pout up at Jin Guangyao through his eyelashes.

“You got me candy, Yao-gege? Just for me?”

Jin Guangyao raises his eyebrows at the man as Nie Huaisang wards him off with a few more good whacks from his fan, though he still doesn’t stand up from his perch on Xue Yang’s lap. Jin Guangyao already knows better than to so much as think about Nie Huaisang acting like this with Xue Yang while around Jiang Wanyin, who’s apparently taken it upon himself to bully Nie Huaisang into actually taking care of himself and becoming a slightly more functional human being in a slightly aggressive courting ritual that makes sense only to him (and, he supposes, Nie Huaisang). Xue Yang is still – probably more than ever – very much a massive flight risk at every moment, and sitting on him (i.e. giving him the sort of semi-violent affection he sorely needs but can only barely tolerate at the best of times) is pretty much the only surefire way to keep him around long enough to actually talk to him.

“I might have,” Jin Guangyao shrugs. “It’s difficult for me to remember when I’m so busy attempting to clean up one of your extremely dangerous messes. Again.”

Xue Yang huffs at that and slumps back, pouting and crunching on his lollipop a few times loudly before he spits out the bare paper stick and holds his hand out imperiously.

“You’re no fun anymore, Yao-gege, what happened to you?” he asks, his jutting lower lip and upturned brows quickly morphing into another manic grin when Jin Guangyao sighs as if put upon and slaps a fresh lollipop into his waiting palm. The plastic wrapper crinkles too loudly as he rips it off with his teeth and pops the sucker between his lips so fast Jin Guangyao hears the candy clack sharply against his front teeth. “Okay fine, you can spend another day off the list of people I’m gonna kill. But seriously, where’s your edge these days?! I found a way to talk to the giant aliens attacking all the stupid little humans!! No one else is doing that, not even Wei Wuxian! Call me a good boy at least, Yao-gege!”

“It is a lot like the kinds of things you and A-Yu used to get up to before Da-ge caught on and shut it down,” Nie Huaisang says with a shrewd little glint in his eye that Jin Guangyao doesn’t want to admit gets his hackles up, spine tingling with the need to defend himself and his past desperate measures. “Looking to start up the demon squad again, Yaoyao?”

Jin Guangyao pinches at the bridge of his nose again as he begs the unforgiving cosmos for some sort of extra ration of patience. “There was never such a thing as a ‘demon squad’, and if I were to ever start a group dedicated to ethically reprehensible, underground, black market research I would not allow my angsty teenage brother to give it a name at all, but especially not the ‘demon squad’!”

“Don’t even give him credit, Sangsang, I got it all from Wei Wuxian’s notes anyway, not his,” Xue Yang sighs, breezy and carefree. “And don’t help him avoid my question, either! What the fuck’s happening under Daddy Warbucks and the stupid Mustache these days, hm? They beating you up in there? Tying you down? Kink should loosen you up, Yao-gege, not wind you tighter. What are you riding my dick for all the sudden?”

“A-Sang,” Jin Guangyao says pleasantly, refusing to rise to Xue Yang’s clumsy baiting. He’s getting rusty, and Jin Guangyao has at least one solid theory as to why, though he’s not going to debase himself enough to ask. He doesn’t have to. “I’d like to talk to Xue-xiong alone for a moment if you don’t mind.”

“Aiyah,” Nie Huaisang pouts up at him from his perch. “I go to all this work to track him down and bring you out here to see him just like you asked, and now you’re brushing me off?? Rude, Yao-ge!”

Jin Guangyao sighs and withdraws his rarely-used cell phone from his pocket, clicking through a few screens quickly as Xue Yang crunches on his sucker and eyes Nie Huaisang’s exposed jugular like he’d very much like to chew through that instead.

“I just sent you money for drinks, go get whatever ridiculous concoctions you want and I promise I’ll drink one if you wait for me inside.”

“A man who knows the way to my heart! Thanks Yao-ge!!”

“Hey — nothing with tequila!” Jin Guangyao calls after his friend’s rapidly-retreating back, but considering all he gets in return is a maniacal cackle he’s pretty sure he’s in for a bitch of a hangover tomorrow either way, tequila or not. He looks down at Xue Yang again where he’s still lounging as the door slams shut behind Nie Huaisang again. Xue Yang — always better than anyone at scenting blood in the water — immediately grins his wickedly wide smile, all sharpened canines and eyes glittering with the sort of mischief that leads to world-shattering catastrophes…like Kaiju suddenly targeting specific Pilots with personally tailored attacks, because Xue Yang told them to.

“I don’t work for free,” Xue Yang says. “You know how steep my real prices are for the good shit.”

“I know. I’m offering you protection.”

“Mm you’re already doing that for me, gege, don’t try to play coy. You’ve got to up the ante now.”

“Not for you; for your family.”

The grin flickers off Xue Yang’s face quick as a burnt light fizzling out, expression as cold and furious as Jin Guangyao had expected.

“I don’t have a family.”

“Alright.” Jin Guangyao shrugs. “But that’s my offer. Anything you need to keep them safe you’ll have — money, papers, medical care, a house somewhere the Kaiju will never reach. Whatever it takes.”

In the blink of an eye, Xue Yang is no longer lounging on his stack of musty crates, but is instead snarling right in Jin Guangyao’s face, the cold bite of a knife at his throat as his back collides with the slimy bricks on the opposite side of the alley.

“Shut up!! I don’t have a family!” Xue Yang bites out, his breath redolent with sugar; underneath it, the thick tang of blood. Jin Guangyao quietly flicks his own knife out of his sleeve, though he doesn’t threaten Xue Yang with it just yet.

“Fine, so they’re not your family. Sugar daddies, then, though from what I understand they donate as much of their royalties and pensions as they can to orphanages and relief shelters, so I’m not sure if they can really qualify as anything other than your ‘handlers’ at best.”

Xue Yang withdraws as suddenly as he’d pounced, affecting an utterly flawless (and therefore obviously fabricated) aura of cold indifference. “I’m not doing anyone favors, Yao-gege. I don’t work for free, I told you, and I don’t need your fucking protection so just leave me alone.”

“You don’t need it – or they don’t, because they’ve already got such a good guard dog?”

“You have no goddamn idea what you’re talking about!” Xue Yang’s hackles are up again, knife flashing anxiously between his fingers as he spins it too fast to be seen clearly in the dim alley light. “What do they even have to do with anything?! You think you have a right to meddle in their lives just because they decided to walk back into your stupid Shatterdome for a day? They’re my toys to play with, not yours!”

“Mature, xiao-Yang,” Jin Guangyao drawls. “If you’d rather torture them than help them, that’s your business. I don’t want to force you to help me, but I will if I must. This is your mess, and you will help me clean it up, and you underestimate the lengths I’m willing to go to to ensure you get it done. You’re alive because I won’t allow you to die, and you’ll do as I say until I decide you’re no longer useful.”

“Hey!!” Jin Guangyao doesn’t take his eyes off Xue Yang as a young, high voice suddenly shouts above them, punctuated with the clang of something knocking hard against a metal grate. “Get your ass back in here, Yang-ge, the daozhangs are back! Stop playing tough and come eat dinner!!”

“Get back inside the house before I chop your stupid head off!!” Xue Yang shouts up at whoever it is, an ugly snarl on his face that Jin Guangyao can only assume is masking embarrassment more than genuine anger. His knife is still flickering between his fingers, after all, and if he were truly angry it would likely be sailing through the air to lodge itself somewhere in this person’s face by now.

“My offer stands,” Jin Guangyao says in the ringing silence of the window slamming shut again. “You can say you don’t want it, but you can’t hide from me forever, A-Yang. The Immortals aren’t fit to return to active duty, and you’ve doomed yourself to an early grave with your little Drift experiment – if the Kaijus don’t kill us all first, your nerve damage will come for you almost as quick without proper care. Do this last task for me, and I’ll send you so far away everything you’ve seen and done here will be nothing but a fever dream. You’ll never want for anything again, and neither will they.”

Xue Yang is glaring at him again and breathing hard like he’d just run a mile, his teeth bared, hands clenched white-knuckled at his sides. He takes a deep breath in and visibly centers himself before he closes his eyes and forces his grimacing lips into his signature grin.

“Anything to get you to leave me the fuck alone again,” he chirps. “What’s the goal? I’m assuming I can have as much fun with him as I want?”

It’s Jin Guangyao’s turn to take a deep breath in. He’s been wanting this for so long – thinking of it in abstract even when it still made him sick with guilt. Daydreaming of it when it was no longer an ‘if’ but a ‘when’. Making quiet, hidden moves to line things up just right in recent months, just in case.

Just in case.

“Make it hurt,” he tells Xue Yang, even though he knows that’s a given, “and before it’s over, make sure he has no doubts as to who is standing behind you telling you to pull the trigger.”

Xue Yang nods and turns to go without another word, knife still flashing and spinning rapidly between his clever fingers. Jin Guangyao allows himself five deep breaths before he returns to the noisy, black interior of the bar, and when he finds Nie Huaisang back at their table he downs three shots of something in quick succession without so much as a grimace. Nie Huaisang just hands him a pint glass of water before he lines up the next shot with silent, grave understanding.

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #Pacific Rim AU #Wangxian #SongXiao #SongXueXiao #background Sangcheng #mention of previous Nie Huaisang/Xue Yang #Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #Jin Guangyao #Wei Wuxian #Nie Huaisang #Mo Xuanyu #Xiao Xingchen #Song Zichen #Xue Yang #A-Qing #Jin Guangshan is gonna GET. HIS. and literally nobody will be sad about it #except maybe Jin Zixun but who gives a shit #Also this is just shy of 11k words so hopefully the wait was worth it lol #I'm not totally happy with NMJ's pov for this one and tbh that's what's been holding it up the longest #it's not worth waiting for some better inspiration to strike anymore lol

[ladysunamireads]

#AO3 Link #FanFiction #AO3 Wangxian #♥ #Wangxian #Xuanli #Jiang Cheng #MDZS #⚣ #⚔️ #Fluff #A:Stickylemonbiscu

[twenty-orange-balloons]

Wei Wuxian: If I run at Lan Zhan he would definitely catch me!

Nie Huaisang: Of course he would. The question is, would Er-Ge?

Wei Wuxian: Let's find out! Hey, Zewu-Jun!

Lan Xichen, passing by while holding a stack of scrolls, pauses and turns: Yes, Wuxian?

*Wei Wuxian runs right at him and jumps, Lan Xichen quickly shifts the scrolls to one arm and catches him with the other, spinning on his heels to set Wei Wuxian down gently*

Wei Wuxian: Woah.

Lan Xichen, briefly pats Wei Wuxian's head: You should be more careful, Wuxian. Wangji would not be pleased if you were hurt.

Wei Wuxian, blushing slightly: Right. Sorry, I'll be more careful.

*Lan Xichen smiles and continues on his way*

Nie Huaisang, grinning behind his fan: Guess we forgot about the Lan strength, huh?

Wei Wuxian, still dazed: Yeah.

#mdzs #the untamed #wei wuxian #cql #mo dao zu shi #nie huaisang #Lan Xichen #incorrect cql #incorrect mdzs #incorrect mdzs quotes

[tangledinmdzs]

Heyyy, hope your having an amazing day. Can I request a story where Lan Xichen got drunk and is flirting with the reader and being all cute and stuff? Thank you.

omo, we’re really going ham with the drunk aus now aren’t we lol

but i have to say: drunk lan xichen is a great lan xichen

presenting, your request (in canon au)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“y/n-ah”

“hmm,” you hum, nonchalantly to your companion, 

you, walking gently side by side with Lan Xichen, shrouded in moonlight 

seemed like the perfect romantic atmosphere

if only for the fact that your sect leader was completely drunk

like, it’s really a blessing, that he’s still on his own two feet

“woah woah there,” you comment, grabbing onto Lan Xichen’s arms as the graceful sect leader actually trips on the paved road

“hehe, i did that on purpose,” Lan Xichen comments, smiling down at you

his cheeks are flushed a cute shade of red

you can only shake your head at him, placing a guiding hand on his arm as you both make the long, arduous trek up the Cloud Recess steps

because there was no way in hell 

that you both would be able to sword fly up there,

as you’re looking forlornly at the amount of steps 

you hear Lan Xichen’s iconic giggle beside you,

“what?” you turn and ask him, because the steps were already so hard on it’s own 

but now with the addition of a drunk man, 

it was going to be difficult

Lan Xichen simply laughs, swaying into your before you both can even take the first step,

“Sect Leader!” 

“y/n-ah, y/n-ie, so cute my cute little disciple,” Lan Xichen sing songs, and you’re stumbling with him up two steps, eight steps from the first landing 

“yeah, i’m such a great disciple, aren’t i?” you can’t help but be sarcastic, because you hadn’t expected to accompany your sect leader to this extent

and also because, he would always just see you as the senior disciple of his sect

just a disciple

“as my favorite favorite most cherished disciple, we must sword fly together,” Lan Xichen announces when you both have taken very heavy and very long steps up to the first out of the hundreds (practically) of landings that you still have to get to

Cloud Recess was really high and you were just beginning to realize that now

“Zewu-Jun, you are drunk,” you can’t help but deadpan, because even though you really want to just hop on the sword and fly up

balance is not something that you can manage with your Sect Leader right now

“not drunk, happy. and not Zewu-Jun, Xichen,” Lan Xichen corrects you, sways out of your hold to kick his sword down,

 “well, Zewu-Jun-”

“Lan XiCHEN” your sect leader corrects, loudly 

“-Xichen, I don’t think this is a good idea,” you protest, because if the esteemed Sect Leader got hurt or broke his neck on your watch you were very well dead meat

“I have very good ideas, especially now, c’mon” Lan Xichen says

and you want to protest again but Lan Xichen grabs your arm, pulls you into him as his sword automatically takes off

you hate it here

hate that the rush of the wind is so much faster with Zewu-Jun’s blazing core, wild and crazy from the alcohol in his system

you hate that even the coolness of the fresh air can’t stop your cheeks from burning

hate yourself for loving the small space between you both so much 

you’re even more surprised when Zewu-Jun’s sword lands smoothly (somehow) at the Hanshi, 

and even though you both are no longer on his sword,

your Sect Leader does not let you go

“my disciple, my littlest tiny disciple y/n,” Lan Xichen says, holding you in a way that is definitely breaking more than ten rules on the Wall of Discipline

“Sect Leader,” you burst out, pushing away from him to give yourself space

because your heart was thunderously beating in your chest 

and you hate that you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with someone you could never have

you turn away from him for a moment, laying your hand on your heart

“y/n!” 

you take a deep breath, turn around just to see Lan Xichen again, but this time, 

“pong pong!”

he’s tilted his head to the side, making this shoot motion with his hands that morphs into hearts

heart guns~

“take all of my love! all for you!” Lan Xichen giggles, continues doing so many weird abstract motions that represents hearts as best as he can

you watch, this man, this sect leader of yours giggling like a child,

and in the pretense of his forgetfulness tomorrow

you accept all of his hearts, his love

just this once

#mdzs headcanons #mdzs #mdzs reader insert #mdzs request #mdzs anon ask #mdzs anon requests #mdzs reaction request #mdzs scenario request #mdzs imagine request #mdzs drunk au #mdzs lan xichen x reader #lan xichen x reader #mdzs canon au #tangledwriting

[stiltonbasket]

Prompt: Lan Xichen tries to rescue Wei Wuxian from jgy at the Guanyin temple. How would it go?

When the qin string slips around Wei Wuxian’s throat, the warmth of Jin Guangyao’s breath on his hair seems harder to bear than the pain.

The string is so sharp and thin that Lianfang-zun could tighten it and sever Wei Wuxian’s neck completely, without giving him more than a moment to feel it before he was dead; but Jin Guangyao’s closeness feels worse, somehow. Intolerable, if only because Lan Zhan is watching, with his fear so obvious that Jin Guangyao can probably smell it.

“I advise Young Master Wei not to whistle,” Jin Guangyao says gently, letting his wrists settle comfortably on Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. “It doesn’t matter that your flute has been broken, but if you were to lose an eye, or a tongue—that would be rather tragic, wouldn’t it?”

Wei Wuxian wishes he could turn around and choke the life out of Jin Guangyao himself. “Aiyah, eloquent as always. You make a good point, Lianfang-zun.”

He looks up at Lan Zhan, still holding up his sword, and too frightened to strike—and then at Jin Ling, still gaping at Jin Guangyao’s back. Zewu-jun’s eyes are flickering back and forth between him and Jin Guangyao, and then back towards the door, as if he hoped that someone might come to take Jin Ling away.

Jiang Cheng is nowhere nearby, though. Jin Ling probably ran away after all the commotion at Lotus Pier, and knowing Jiang Cheng, A-Ling must have left without telling anyone where he was going.

Of all foolhardy nephews, this one is the worst, Wei Wuxian despairs. Even if Jiang Cheng gets married tomorrow and has a dozen troublemaking children of his own, they can’t possibly be any worse than Jin Ling!

“Let him go,” he hears Lan Zhan say. His voice is trembling, so full of pain that Wei Wuxian wants nothing more than to run over and comfort him, Jin Guangyao’s hold on his neck be damned; but then he hears the plea repeated, and a soft, satisfied huff of victory from the man standing behind him.

“Hanguang-jun, it’s best if you take five steps back,” Jin Guangyao smiles. “Quickly, now.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart seizes inside him. “Lan Zhan, don’t! Don’t back away!”

But his Lan Zhan obeys, spurred to action by the drop of blood rolling down Wei Wuxian’s collarbones, and withdraws five steps backwards as bidden.

“Wonderful,” Jin Guangyao praises him. “Now, sheathe your sword.”

Wei Wuxian sees Lan Zhan’s hands move—willing to give up his only defense, if it was for Wei Wuxian—and struggles in Jin Guangyao’s grip. “Jin Guangyao!” he shouts, “don’t go too far! You—”

“I’ve already gone too far for you? I’m going to ask Hanguang-jun to seal his own spiritual powers, next. What would that be called?”

But neither of them have the chance to find out; for the scent of spilled blood is hot in the air, bubbling and thick, and for one frozen, bewildered second, Wei Wuxian is convinced that Jin Guangyao must have finally run out of patience and decided to get rid of him.

I’m still breathing, he realizes dimly, lifting a shaking hand to his own neck. That wasn’t—that wasn’t—

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Zhan cries out, from the other side of the room. “Xiongzhang, what—”

Wei Wuxian looks up.

It really hadn’t been his blood, after all.

Lan Xichen is standing a few paces away from the temple’s outer doors, the front of his robes spattered with red, and he has Shuoyue held up against his own throat.

“Let Wei Wuxian go,” he says coldly, “or I will die before you.”

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan xichen #my fic #prompt fill #the extended fill is on ao3! #whew this one was intense

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

#xicheng #fic recs #mdzs #mdzs recs #jiang cheng #lan xichen #obvs these reflect my personal preferences etc etc

[riemihann]

The yandere! jiang cheng when she tried to runaway is so good!!! Part 2 when she realize she pregnant, terrified and scared of what jiang cheng would do, she runaway to gusu. Jiang cheng is angry, when he meet reader she is threatened miscarriage,...you can choose the ending bc I'm lowkey scared of this man now

Awww! Thank you! And I think i see something going on here... Honestly, I am scared of what I wrote about him haha! I will insert myself as your friend to help you escape if that is alright, and tell me in the ask box who do you want to end up with? Anyways! Here you go! :

You felt uneasy and fainted infront of Wei Wuxian and the juniors “Miss Y/N!” They call out your name, luckily Wei Wuxian caught you. “Y/N! Wake up!” He shakes you gently and Xiaoyue ( me ) runs up to check on you. “Jingyi! Get the physician over here now!” She tells him and Jingyi runs to get the physician.

When you woke up you see Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen and the juniors listening carefully to what the doctor is saying. You hear a ringing noise and you saw white spots and you finally say “What is happening..” The seven of them turn their head to you and Xiaoyue walks to you while holding your hand. You were back in Lotus pier and Jiang Cheng was visiting Nie Huaisang. “Y/N... You are pregnant..” She announces the news to you. Your eyes filled with tears of sadness and joy clouded your vision when you heard her say that. “I will leave you all be.” The physician left the room and now it’s just you, and the eight of them inside. “Y/N, do you still want to stay?.. With Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks you “Here, use this to wipe your tears Miss Y/N.” Sizhui hands his handkerchief to you as you dry your tears with it. “Y/N-jie..” Xiaoyue’s soft blue eyes filled with sadness for your child and what will the future be for the both of you. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.” You say still sniffling. “I want to run away.. Please help me..” You finally say to them and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other, then at Lan Xichen. “Y/N-guiniang, you could stay in Gusu. Xiaoyue can help you take care of the child along with the juniors. We will provide anything you need there.” He says to you ”Mn, you can tell us anything.” Lan Wangji tells you. You nod and say “I want to run away to Gusu.”

That night, when Jiang Cheng was still in Qinghe. Wei Wuxian and the 2 maids ( if you remember, the first part. ) packed your stuff and Xiaoyue sang a song on the roof, making the people outside sleep. “While Xiaoyue is singing, we will go through the door when you hear it open.” Wei Wuxian explains and when you heard the door open... You saw “Jiang Cheng..” Both you and Wei Wuxian were left shook. He came in early.. “What is the meaning of this?!” He shouted and the Zidian crackled it’s purple lightning. “Jiang Cheng, I‘m telling you this.. Don’t. Hurt. Her.” Resentful energy surrounds Wei Wuxian and you when he said that. Jiang Cheng brings a body from outside, “Give me back my wife or I will kill this girl.” He says while he chokes Xiaoyue. “Do-don’t..” She struggles in his grasp “Y/N!” He shouts at you, Zidian crackling again. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls out his partners name for help. “Hah.. You think that Lan boy will save you? I took care of him already.. Zewu-Jun, Jingyi, Zizhen, Sizhui.. And.. Jin Ling. They all are serverly injured, all because of you.” Jiang Cheng laughs hysterically, Xiaoyue and Wei Wuxian tears up “What did you do to them?!” Wei Wuxian screams “Where are they?!” He asks again. “Give me Y/N, and I’ll tell.” Jiang Cheng says, determined to imprison you in Yunmeng. “Not a chance!” Wei Wuxian says and Jiang Cheng’s grip tightens around Xiaoyue’s neck. “H-he-help..” She pleaded while gasping for air. “Let her and Wei-Xiong go..” You say and he does as he was told. Wei Wuxian, still protecting you. And Xiaoyue gasps for air with tears on her eyes. You walk up to him and say “I am atleast 3 weeks pregnant Wanyin, if you want this child.. Let me go.” You say to him and he was surprised! He is going to be a father? ( yea sorry no.. ) you look at Xiaoyue, sliently crying and Wei Wuxian was still keeping his guard up with his swollen eyes. “Sect leader Jiang.. What did you do to them..” Xiaoyue finally asks, coughing out blood. “Stabbed them here and there.. Whipped them, cursed at them..” Jiang Cheng says still in shock. Xiaoyue is trembling at what else might have happened to them. “If you dare.. Capture me and my child to be brought back here.. I will stage a miscarriage..” You say knowing you won’t dare sacrifice the child inside you. But he doesn’t know. Jiang Cheng begs you to stay but his efforts in vain, his heart broken.

You saw the damage Jiang Cheng did to your friends ( and son figure ). “Everyone!” You brisk walk to them seeing all their wounds and whip lashes. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian embraces his husband “Wei.. Ying..” Lan Wangji manages to say his lovers name. “Y/N-guiniang..” The juniors greet you, trying to stand up. “Sizhui!” Xiaoyue tries to run to him but falls in the slippery pier. “Xiaoyue!” Sizhui tries to stand up but when Jiang Cheng whipped their legs.. The pain was unbearable. Xiaoyue cried trying to walk carefully to the juniors, but she sprained her ankle. “Jin Ling..” You walk to him, and embrace him “Mom...” He tears up saying those words. “How will we go back to Gusu..” You ask and Lan Xichen tries to stand up and walk towards you. “Y/N-guiniang, you don’t need to worry..” he comforts you. “Sizhui, Jingyi, any Gusu Lan signals? ( I forgot what they were called )” Xiaoyue asks and Sizhui handed her the last one. She stands up and fires the signal up in the sky, after some minutes you rip off your purple Jiang robes and bandaged everyone with your sleeves and hem of your robes. Xiaoyue did the same and when the Lan disciples came to help, you told them to call a physician again. “Mom.. It hurts..” Jin Ling tells you when you squeezed his hand. “Sorry a-Ling..” You apologize and received news from the physician. ( I’m no doctor okay- ) “It’s not really life threatening, they need rest and sleep.” He told you and Xiaoyue brought some soup for all of you.

“Open your mouth.” You say to Jin Ling and spoon-fed him his soup, Wei Wuxian did the same thing and Xiaoyue did the same thing with Sizhui. Jingyi and Zizhen’s hands were fine :D

( will make a part 3 but tell me who do you want to be with, and how do you want it to go )

#mdzs reader insert #mdzs x y/n #yandere mdzs #jiang cheng x reader #song xiaoyue #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #ouyang zizhen #jin ling #hanguang jun #zewu jun #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #lan wangji #lan xichen #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fic #mdzs imagine #mdzs fanfiction

[theworldinclines]

Title: family matters Pairing: Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi Excerpt:      “You’re almost like another son to him anyway,” Sizhui points out.      “So you’re the favourite child while I get tossed to the wayside?” Ao3 link

Read below the cut.

     The first time Jingyi meets Sizhui, they are each five. Zewu-Jun himself delivers the boy to lessons and asks that the children treat Sizhui with exceptional respect and consideration. That in itself isn’t anything new, as the Lans have written rules that explain why giving others kindness is one of the many keys to leading a decent life and acting as a role model to those in- and outside the sect. What was different, however, was the moment before Zewu-Jun took his leave from the students.

     He gave a downturn of his chin to the boys and the teacher, but was unable to take more than two steps before little Sizhui had grappled to his robes, arms held fast around the Sect Leader’s left leg. Jingyi has never been known for necessarily obedient behaviour, but even he had never dared such an act toward Zewu-Jun, let alone in public. To the entire room’s astonishment, the man didn’t look put out in the very least. Rather than reprimand the child, Zewu-Jun put a gentle hand to his head and guided him out into the gardens. Jingyi knew he would be scolded were he to peek at them, and did it anyway when Laoshi’s back was turned.

     Outside he saw Sizhui and Zewu-Jun, the Sect Leader in his immaculate robes bent to a knee as though they were in the cleanly confines of a hall rather than stood on a dusty path. Sizhui was staring at the ground, rubbing at his nose, and Zewu-Jun gave him a gentle chuck beneath the chin, murmuring words Jingyi couldn’t possibly hear. Sizhui’s nod prompted a smile from the Sect Leader that Jingyi, even at his young age, could tell held something more behind it.

     He was quick to be facing the front of the room by the time Sizhui was led back into the class, much more collected and prepared to learn for the day. Jingyi understands, sort of; although he hadn’t wanted to begin lessons either, it’s just what is expected of children their age in the Cloud Recesses. He’d still stomped and whined, of course, but here he sits.

     And he’s rather glad to have come once Laoshi dismisses them, because he gets to trot after Sizhui’s slow movements and say, “Hey!” He recalls in a split-second Zewu-Jun’s request that they show Sizhui respect, along with the rules, and adds quickly, “Welcome to Cloud Recesses. I haven’t seen you before.” Sizhui stares at him, uncertain. “Did you just come here? Where’d you move from?”

     Sizhui gives a helpless shrug that is interrupted by the Sect Leader’s prompt appearance by his side. Jingyi immediately dips into a polite little bow that makes Zewu-Jun smile and he returns the gesture. Jingyi grins before he can bite it down and says, “Zewu-Jun, where’s Sizhui from?”

     The Sect Leader hesitates a moment before his expression smooths into something less telling. “He is an orphan, A-Yi,” he says simply. “I trust that you will show him kindness.”

     Jingyi looks at Sizhui with slightly widened eyes, nodding vigorously. “I will!” he promises the older man. To the boy, he says, “I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.”

     For the first time, Sizhui’s lips quirk into the hint of a smile. “You don’t need to do that. I’m okay.”

     “Too late,” Jingyi says firmly. “Tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll deal with them.” Zewu-Jun lowers his eyes to hide his amusement and Jingyi barrels on, “Better yet, I’ll stick by your side to save the trouble. Okay?”

     Sizhui allows a little nod before Zewu-Jun murmurs that they should be heading home. The boy nods and Jingyi gives a wave, which Sizhui repays with a shy, squint-eyed smile. Jingyi beams. It may be Zewu-Jun’s request, but keeping Sizhui safe won’t be an arduous task at all, he thinks. Maybe they’ll even become good friends!

     Jingyi finds Sizhui by the rabbits. It’s his friend’s favourite spot in the Cloud Recesses and if ever there’s a time when Jingyi can’t seem to find Sizhui in the main pavilion, he knows where he’ll be. Today is no exception.

     Sizhui had disappeared just before he and Jingyi were meant to meet. They had each taken their meals as quickly as possible without appearing impolite to their families before the usual rendezvous by the rock garden’s bridge for a short break together, a daily update of all things Cloud Recesses. But when Jingyi arrived, Sizhui was nowhere to be seen and he’d known that something must have happened for his best friend to abandon him without warning.

     Seeing Sizhui now, surrounded by soft rabbits, Jingyi hopes that he’d perhaps fallen into a brief mood as he sometimes does and all is in fact well, though he’d had to come here to get away from it all. He wouldn’t fault Sizhui that. However, when he calls out for him in approach, Sizhui wipes at his face like he’s been caught, and Jingyi begins to frown.

     “A-Hui,” he says, coming to a stop beside him. Sizhui won’t look at him, gaze focused on the ground as he soothes a rabbit in his lap, and Jingyi can see that his eyes are red, cheeks tear-streaked. “A-Hui,” he repeats.

     “I’m alright,” Sizhui says. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

     “It’s been four years and you still think I care,” Jingyi replies, the slightest sarcasm in his words. “What happened?”

     “It really isn’t a big deal.”

     “So some non-issue made you come here and cry?” Jingyi deduces dryly.

     “They…” Sizhui stops.

     Jingyi sombers and can feel his frown deepening. “They who?”

     “Mingyu. And Pengfei. Rumours about where I’m from.”

     “Sizhui, what’d they do?”

     “They said…” Sizhui’s hands shake only slightly where they hold the rabbit, but it still makes Jingyi’s stomach hurt. “Just that they think I’m from that old sect that was eradicated years ago for their evil ways, and how it’s strange I’m not dead like the rest of them. A-Fei said if I’m evil it’s their duty to — ” Sizhui doesn’t complete the sentence as his voice catches, but Jingyi is already on his feet. “A-Yi!” Sizhui’s hand reaches for Jingyi’s ankle, though he’s too far to catch. “What are you doing?”

     “What’s it look like?” Jingyi demands. “I’m going to challenge them to a duel and shame them in front of the gods and the Four Families. What else?”

     “Jingyi, don’t,” Sizhui says tiredly.

     “Why not?”

     “We’ve only just begun sword-work, for one,” Sizhui quips, aiming for a joke. Jingyi crosses his arms over his chest and Sizhui sighs as he gently sets the rabbit aside to stand. “We’re barely 10,” he says. “You can’t fight another kid to the death, Jingyi.”

     “I disagree,” he mumbles.

     “Well, that’s allowed. I don’t expect us to agree on everything. But you’ll only get in trouble and I don’t want that.”

     “They said horrible things to you!” Jingyi exclaims. “And I said I’d protect you. ‘Our word is our oath,’ remember? Never break a promise. If I don’t confront them, I’m betraying one of our rules. A punishable offense, you know.”

     “Coming here to find me is enough,” Sizhui says, fond but immovable, per usual. “I’m not even crying anymore, thanks to you. I’d say you did your duty.” Jingyi grumbles his dissent, arms still crossed, but Sizhui just bumps their shoulders together as he stands by his side, twining an arm through Jingyi’s out of habit. “Let’s get back to class.”

     “They’re lucky they didn’t say that stuff in front of me,” Jingyi says while they walk. “Those brats. Don’t think I won’t do it next time.”

     “Yes, A-Yi.”

     “Don’t ‘Yes, A-Yi’ me; I mean it!”

     “Okay, A-Yi.”

     “Sizhui!” comes the expected whine.

      Because it is their shared space, another day finds the boys with the rabbits. Zewu-Jun had apparently shown it to Sizhui when he first arrived and was feeling lonely, and although Jingyi dislikes that Sizhui had felt sad, he’s happy that it had at least brought them a special hideaway that so few know about. There’s nothing like an afternoon of hideously dull lessons to remind Jingyi why he so prefers not being in class. As if he ever forgets.

     “There’s no way Laoshi Qiren isn’t trying to kill us,” Jingyi deadpans. “I swear, leaving his class I’m always sapped of both energy and will to live. Not a coincidence.”

     “You say this nearly every day.”

     “And it’s true! A slow-burn murder.”

     “I feel certain that if my Grand-Uncle was trying to kill me, there’d be more concern from my father and uncle.”

     Jingyi  makes a face and holds a rabbit up to meet her dark gaze. “What do you think? Who’s right, little one?”

     Sizhui rolls his eyes, taking the rabbit gently from Jingyi so that he can return her to the grass with her family. “She can’t talk,” he says, “but if she could, she’d agree with me.”

     “One of our numerous Sect rules is to reserve assumptions until proper evidence is drawn,” Jingyi recites, “yet here you are. What would your esteemed uncle say? Or your father, for that matter?”

     “Zewu-Jun would say it’s worth it to tease you. Baba would say… I’m right,” Sizhui concludes proudly. “Because I’m his son.”

     “Nepotism! Utter bias!”

     “You’re almost like another son to him anyway,” Sizhui points out.

     “So you’re the favourite child while I get tossed to the wayside?” Sizhui laughs at Jingyi’s affronted expression, and for that Jingyi takes his free hand where it rests across from him on the grass. “You know, that’s fine. If he already accepts me as a son, there won’t be any trouble when I request formal permission to court you.”

     Sizhui turns red and pulls his hand back to pet the rabbit, glancing around as though someone might be watching all of a sudden. “You’re silly,” he says to Jingyi.

     “We’re already going to be 15!” Jingyi pouts.

     “Why are you so interested in discussing it today?”

     Jingyi tugs a little at a few strands of grass. “Just the lesson earlier about cultivation partners.”

     Sizhui’s cheeks haven’t lost their blush but he does look pleasantly surprised as he says, “You paid attention in class after all! A-Yi!”

     “Only for today because it applied to me,” Jingyi insists. “To us, I guess.”

     Sizhui seems to remember his shyness and ducks his head. “You want me to be your cultivation partner?” he asks.

     “Don’t you want to be?”

     “I never said I didn’t!” Sizhui says quickly, seeing that Jingyi appears disheartened. He carefully reaches for his hand despite his own red face and says, “Would I spend all my time with you if I didn’t want to?”

     “Well, how should I know?” Jingyi asks, but he’s sitting up like he’s got less weight holding him down now. Back to his usual self, which is a good sign. “Some cultivation partners are platonic, you know.”

     “Rarely.”

     “A-Hui, are you questioning Laoshi Qiren?”

     “I’d prefer to avoid lashing by oar if I can avoid it, thank you.”

     “I thought you said you have nepotism on your side!”

     Sizhui shakes his head and, somehow graceful even here, stands up from the ground. “We should head back, A-Yi,” he says, brushing invisible dust from his robes. “It’s getting late now.”

     “Can’t we just stay here forever?” Jingyi asks dramatically, falling onto his back. At Sizhui’s look, he sighs and extends a hand upward for Sizhui to accept.

     Instead of allowing him to help Jingyi to his feet, Jingyi tugs Sizhui down so that he tumbles back to the ground, half against Jingyi’s side. Jingyi laughs aloud in amused delight while Sizhui’s blush returns with a vengeance.

     “Lan Jingyi!” he scolds, twisting away from him. “Shameless!”

     “You sound like your father!” Jingyi laughs again.

     Sizhui huffs and hurries to stand, putting distance between himself and Jingyi. “And if you don’t want him to give you the oar, you’d better just do as I say. Let’s go.”

     “Bossy, bossy,” Jingyi says, though he’s following Sizhui obediently for the path. He sneaks a glance to his left and can’t help but grin at Sizhui’s flushed cheeks and the way his ears have gone pink at the tips. According to Sizhui, Hanguang-Jun’s ears do the same.

     He gives a little poke to the skin of Sizhui’s ear, just to mess with him, and Sizhui huffs another breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Completely shameless!” before abandoning Jingyi altogether to hurry ahead of him.

     If Wei Wuxian had been asked as a teenager whether he could ever envision making a life for himself in the Cloud Recesses, he’d have laughed in your face. He did, actually, when Jiang Cheng made the passing joke all those years ago, assuring his brother that this place would never feel like home to someone with Wei Wuxian’s habits. Now, what’s closer to two decades ago than Wei Wuxian would like to think about, he has to admit that his younger self hadn’t been nearly open-minded enough.

     Circumstances that he couldn’t have foreseen changed his view of Cloud Reccesses, and he knows that he will be here for as long as he can be because being here means keeping his place beside his husband and son. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else these days and the certainty of that sometimes takes him by surprise, when he considers just how different things are now but in a way that feels right, like it’s what always was meant to be.

     He feels himself smiling when he sees A-Yuan and A-Yi in the woods near the rabbits. He knows that Lan Xichen had brought A-Yuan years before when he’d been new here, sure that giving the child a piece of Lan Wangji would bring him comfort in his three-year absence. It’s still Wei Wuxian’s favourite place in the Cloud Recesses — except for the rooms he shares with Lan Zhan, of course, but that’s a given — and it makes him even happier that Lan Sizhui had found solace here as his fathers had done at his age.

     He watches from afar with a fond smile as the boys stand to be on their way home, but Wei Wuxian’s smile freezes when he can tell even from here that Sizhui is smiling sweetly with a hand in Jingyi’s, and his smile decidedly disappears when he realises their faces are far too close together. Wei Wuxian trips backward, a twig or five snapping as he does, and it must alert the boys to an outside present for when he regains his footing against the tree, they’ve fled the scene. A hand to his chest, Wei Wuxian stands there in astonishment.

     This lasts for only a moment before he is all but sprinting for the Library Pavilion where his husband is sure to be writing this early afternoon. He forces himself to slow down so as to not alarm Lan Wangji, though he comes to a sliding stop inside the doors anyhow with heaving breath.

     “What’s happened?” Lan Wangji asks, not lifting his eyes from his work. When it’s obvious that Wei Wuxian is still having trouble speaking, he looks up at him. “Wei Ying?”

     “Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says. He goes to him across the room and drops onto the floor to clutch at his husband’s arm. He stares at Wei Wuxian with the slightest concern and Wei Wuxian says, “I don’t mean to be dramatic — ”

     “Debatable,” Lan Wangji answers. “Say what you have to say.”

     “Did you know A-Yuan is — that he and Jingyi are — ”

     “They are what?”

     “I’ve just seen them with the rabbits, which is ordinary, but afterwards, Lan Zhan — ”

     “Baba? A-die?”

     Both men look for the entrance where their son has appeared, hands folded in front of him and looking for all the world their dutiful, sweet boy. Wei Wuxian’s heart stops, a feeling he’s never enjoyed, and jumps to his feet.

     “Sizhui!” he exclaims.

     “I need to speak with you both. Is this a bad time?” he asks. He’s walked in on more than one longing glance between his fathers to know when he should make himself scarce, but Wei Wuxian waves his son’s worry away like a pesky gnat.

     “Come here,” Lan Wangji invites him, and Sizhui does. He sits across from Lan Wangji, who looks up at his still-standing husband. Wei Wuxian hurriedly settles beside him and nods at Lan Sizhui in assurance.

     “I wanted to tell you on my own, before anyone else, so that you would know I’m sure of my decision,” Sizhui begins. “With your formal permission, I… I will begin publicly courting Jingyi.” Sizhui’s ears have begun to redden but he doesn’t hesitate as he goes on, “We’d like to be married.”

     The library is silent enough that a pin’s dropping would prove thunderous.

     As calm as he normally is, Lan Wangji simply asks, “How long have you known?”

     “A-die, you know he and I have been friends since almost the day I arrived here. He’s been there for me without my ever having to ask, and we… we’ve been certain of how we feel for over six years now.”

     “Six years?” Wei Wuxian blurts aloud. Lan Wangji gives him a warning side-eye and Wei Wuxian tries to remain collected. “Sizhui, if it’s been so long, why haven’t you told us until today?”

     Sizhui’s flush deepens but he forces himself to meet his father’s eyes. “Before all else, Jingyi and I are friends. We didn’t want the hassle of chaperones or rumours. I understand if our keeping this secret is upsetting, Baba.” He bows his head. “I… I’m soon to be 18, and I know we’re young. But I can’t help wanting to make the most of whatever time A-Yi and I have. You and A-die — ”

     A pause. “From what I’ve been told of your story, it has kept in my mind that I shouldn’t live with this sort of hidden feeling any longer than necessary.” Sizhui looks up at them. “Jingyi loves me, and I love him. Will you allow our marriage?”

     Wei Wuxian is crying, which he’d be embarrassed about if he cared, and he throws propriety to the wind in favour of opening his arms for his son, who gladly and in relief stands to accept the embrace. Lan Wangji is sort of smiling in a clear indication that he’s happy with these events, and Wei Wuxian leans to poke at his cheek just to tease him.

     “I’m thrilled you’ve told us,” Wei Wuxian says to Sizhui. “I assume Jingyi is informing his parents?”

     “Well, we wanted to wait until we had your blessing,” Sizhui admits. “It would be easier to tell them once we know Hanguang-Jun and the former Yiling Patriarch are on our side.”

     “You little schemers!” Wei Wuxian says, giving Sizhui’s cheek a light pinch. “Go on, then. Tell Jingyi the good news.”

     Sizhui beams and looks at Lan Wangji. His smile strengthens under his son’s eyes and he gives the slightest nod, which Sizhui knows to translate as wholehearted approval.

     He bows to his fathers and disappears from the library. Wei Wuxian falls against Lan Wangji’s arm as soon as he’s gone.

     “Ah, Lan Zhan. I rushed here to tell you about how I saw them kiss in the woods, but A-Hui beat me to it. I suppose they’d just decided at that moment to tell us, you think?”

     “Mn.”

     “If I didn’t already know Jingyi to be a good boy, I’d have to kill him.” Wei Wuxian sneaks a look at Lan Wangji, who doesn’t look amused. “No fun, Lan Zhan, no fun.” He taps a finger on the table and at Lan Wangji’s prompting expression says, “Well, I suppose they’ll be needing a chaperone now, eh? Can I volunteer to keep an eye on Jingyi? Break a leg or two?”

     “Wei Ying.”

     “Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m kidding,” Wei Wuxian says with a half-pout. “Huh. Maybe this is how Grand Master Qiren feels about me defiling the soul of his youngest nephew. I think I understand now.”

     “You did not ‘defile’ anything,” Lan Wangji says without pause.

     “My good husband.” Wei Wuxian presses a kiss to his cheek, followed by a gentle pat to the other. Although he’s smiling, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Lan Wangji covers Wei Wuxian’s hand carefully with his, wordlessly asking for Wei Wuxian to speak his mind.

     “It’s nothing. Only what Sizhui mentioned about our past. I don’t want to marry away our son but I… I am grateful that they don’t have to endure… all we had to endure. No mortifyingly long wait to reach their happily ever after. I’m glad for it.”

     Lan Wangji nods his agreement and brushes a kiss against his husband’s hand, making him blush. “A-Zhan!” he says with feigned astonishment. “Not in the library! Shameless.” Wei Wuxian knows he isn’t imagining the amused, pleased look on Wangji’s face, and he can’t hide his own smile at the sight. He still pulls out of Lan Wangji’s grip and says, “I don’t want to be responsible for any damage here, Gods forbid Qiren’s wrath finds me! Later?”

     “Mn. Later.”

     Wei Wuxian dimples at Lan Wangji, firing off a wink, before hightailing it for the Gods know where.

     Lan Wangji returns to his writing, but pauses as he thinks about the hour’s events. His son will be married surely within a year, perhaps have children of his own. The thoughts of a new baby to hold and Sizhui being loved so dearly bring such an unexpected wave of warmth to Lan Wangji that he decides, for today, he can put work to the side. He goes off to find his family growing, or perhaps the ‘later’ he’d been promised.

#i love them to no end #also wanting to write nhs/wn but theyre such a rare pair lmaooo #honestly so are ljy/lsz so what am i saying dkjkfhdkj #my writing #zhuiyi #lan jingyi x lan sizhui #the untamed #ao3 #archive of our own #fics #mlm #c drama #cdrama

[meltingheartsandcores]

I’m tired, I should be studying, instead I wrote this little ficlet that should probably be the prologue to an actual fic that I might get around to writing (fingers crossed).

We have Immortals, modern sects, and porn. Not entirely sure how else to explain it except none of those are explicit, lol.

Hope you enjoy the product of my mildly sleep deprieved brain!

Being invited to have tea with Zewu-Jun was a high honor, despite the immortal seemingly trying to downplay it as much as he possibly could. However, Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what he’s done to earn the honor. It’s been a long time since either Twin Jade was the Sect Leader, Nie Mingjue has spoken with the current Sect Leader Lan Tengfei infrequently over the years when their sect business intermingled or there was a conference, but he wasn’t particularly close to the Lan Sect. And the Twin Jades enjoy their privacy. Enough so that there’s not a single photograph of either of them out there.

So it was very startingly to get the invitation.

Zewu-Jun treating him like an equal and friend is equally startling.

Somehow, not the most startling thing to happen on the trip. No, that would be the portrait of Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang’s husband. He thinks. Nie Mingjue isn’t actually sure if they’re married or just act like it. Although, knowing them, that’s how they want everyone to think.

Still, the clearly very old portrait of Wei Wuxian was a little disturbing. Especially with the name below being Wei Wuxian’s, correct characters and all. Even more so after Zewu-Jun noticed him staring at it and decides to give him some utterly terrible information.

“My brother’s husband, from his first life.” Oh. It was that Wei Wuxian. Yiling Lazou Wei Wuxian.

How is this getting worse?

“Oh?” Because screaming was undignified and not something to be done in front of immortals. Later. In his car. And then he’s calling Nie Huaisang to yell at him because of course his brother just had to shake up with the immortals husband. Maybe. Maybe it’s just a massive coincidence. (Nie Mingjue’s luck is never good enough for coincidences.)

“Yes, after the resurrection his core was never strong enough to cultivate immortality. When Wangji realized it, he tried to stop his own cultivation, but it was too late. Wuxian lasted nearly two hundred years, and not a day goes by that Wangji doesn’t miss him.” Oh, Zewu-Jun was sad. Nothing Nie Mingjue can say will make him not sad. In fact, he’s pretty sure anything close to the truth of what Wei Wuxian is doing now will just upset him. “The juniors find it, romantic, that he’s decided to wait for Wuxian to be reincarnated.”

Well. It does sound romantic.

But Zewu-Jun’s face, he’s irritated and upset, so clearly he doesn’t agree with the juniors. It sounds romantic, but the reality, “He must be very lonely.” Nie Mingjue guesses.

Zewu-Jun nods, “We have each other, but we were the only ones from our generation to cultivate immortality. There are many people we miss, and as time seperates us further from the present, it’s harder to connect with the new disciples.” Zewu-Jun admits. Nie Mingjue nods, he’s never considered that. How isolating it must be to have lived so long. The Nie clan, doesn’t really get immortals. Honestly, they’re lucky if they hit a hundred. Most top out at eighty due to their cultivation style.

“How would he know, that he’s been reincarnated? I mean, I think Huaisang’s said some things about faces getting reused due to limited genetics and the growing population.” Actually Wei Wuxian said that. Something to that effect at least. Nie Huaisang was better with people and manipulating situations. He does really well running the business side of the Nie Sect. Even if he refuses to accept any credit.

Zewu-Jun smiles a little sadly, “Well, I suppose we’ll know when we see him. Pictures work well enough, as we’re learning. We’ve found a few people who we knew in our first lives reincarnated.”

Nie Mingjue nods, he should tell Zewu-Jun. He really should. Maybe it’s just a look alike. Unlikely. Nie Mingjue’s never that lucky. Nie Mingjue’s started to pull his phone out of his pocket before remembering his manners and asking while holding it in front of himself, “Uh, do you mind if I?” Zewu-Jun furrows his brow but gestures for him to continue. Nie Mingjue nods and opens his phone, scrolling through the pictures Nie Huaisang had sent him. Not for the first time, he really wished Nie Huaisang wouldn’t send so many half-naked or fully-naked pictures of Wei Wuxian to him. Thankfully, it was not all Nie Huaisang sent to him, so he did come across a picture of a fully dressed Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang was also there, but they weren’t doing anything. Nie Huaisang had snapped it while they were out walking and Nie Mingjue had wanted to know where the fuck Nie Huaisang had gone at one am. “Just, uh, he seemed familiar.” Nie Mingjue explains, turning the phone around to show Zewu-Jun.

Zewu-Jun blinks then reaches out, hesitating a moment before taking Nie Mingjue’s phone. “That. Is definitely Wei Wuxian.” Zewu-Jun states, and then he starts touching the screen, which makes Nie Mingjue very nervous and uncomfortable. Because Nie Huaisang sends him very questionable pictures. Nie Mingjue is happy his brother is comfortable with his body, he just wishes he wouldn’t text him explicit pictures of his maybe-boyfriend that sometimes also have him naked in them. Nie Huaisang has always like pushing Nie Mingjue’s boundaries, and honestly, Nie Mingjue would rather he be pushing this one than certain other ones. Still. It makes him nervous when Zewu-Jun taps his phone and his eyes blow wide.

Yeah. That’s not good.

Zewu-Jun blinks and regains his composure, handing the phone back, “May I ask how you know him?”

“...How honest do you want me to be?” Nie Mingjue asks, shutting off his phone and pocketing it without looking at whatever Zewu-Jun saw. He’d like to be able to keep looking Zewu-Jun in the eye for this conversation.

Zewu-Jun raises an eyebrow, almost admonishingly, “As honest as possible. You don’t seem to type to beat around the bush.”

He wasn’t. He just really didn’t want to tell Zewu-Jun what Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian get up to.

“He works with my brother.” Nie Mingjue states vaguely, earning another raised eyebrow from Zewu-Jun.

“Is he a cultivator?”

“Used to be. He had a big falling out with the Jiang a few years back and kind of stopped.” Nie Mingjue shrugs, “He doesn’t talk about it.” All he knew about it was rumour. And the Lans don’t do rumours.

“Ah. So what work does he do with Huaisang?”

...Did he tell Zewu-Jun his brothers name? Nie Huaisang is almost as unknown to the world as the Twin Jades. Purposefully so. The Nie have always been rather private with their members, but when Nie Huaisang was old enough to have an opinion on a public presence and vehemently deny having one, nothing about him was released to the public. Not even other cultivation sects as Nie Huaisang wasn’t a practicing cultivator. He trained. As he was supposed to. But he didn’t do any night hunts. He had no connection to Nie Mingjue on the business end of the Sect either.

So, what?

“How do you know his name?” Nie Mingjue asks, making Zewu-Jun blink in plain confusion. “Huaisang’s name isn’t known to anyone outside the Nie sect. Not in connection to me.” Nie Mingjue states, now a little angry. Did someone tell Zewu-Jun? Who? How? Why would he even care about Huaisang?

“He’s in your phone.” Zewu-Jun states simply.

And that’d be a fine answer.

If Nie Huaisang was ‘Huaisang’ in his phone.

But he wasn’t.

He was Reuben. Courtesy of Wei Wuxian. (Wei Wuxian was ‘Stitch’, no Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the names and he didn’t really want to. He’s mostly worried it’s a weird sex thing and he prefers to be as ignorant as possible in that aspect.)

“I thought Lan’s don’t lie.” Although, Zewu-Jun wasn’t, technically, lying.

But he doesn’t deny it. “Could we sit?” Zewu-Jun suggests, gesturing to the table that had been set up for them. Nie Mingjue nods and sits opposite to Zewu-Jun, pouring them some tea. “I apologize for the deception, however I’ve never actually done this before.” He better not be suggesting what Nie Mingjue thinks he’s suggesting. “In the recent past, when we’ve discovered our reincarnated friends, we’ve more or less left them alone.” Oh. Good. He’s not being propositioned.

Wait.

What?

Nie Mingjue blinks, now thoroughly caught off guard, “Um. What.”

Zewu-Jun smiles gently, understandingly, “Due to certain aspects of your previous life, I felt the need to check in on you, make sure you were doing well. I, well, I assumed your family was the same. Hence, why I know Huaisang’s name despite you keeping him rather off the grid.”

“He’s not off the grid. He just has no public connection to me.” Nie Huaisang was almost constantly online. Especially with his ‘job’.

“Ah. So, what work does he and Wei Wuxian do?” Zewu-Jun asks before taking a drink of his tea.

Nie Mingjue considers what he knows about the Lan, and then realizes he really doesn’t want to have this conversation. Luckily for him (or unluckily most of the time), he can just show Zewu-Jun on his phone. “Um, you might want to put that down.” Nie Mingjue suggests, pulling out his phone and turning it on, quickly going to the app Nie Huaisang downloaded on his phone that he never goes on, and opens it up to Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian’s account. Sliding it across the table as Zewu-Jun dubiously puts down his teacup.

Zewu-Jun blinks, then sighs, “I can’t say, I’m particularly surprised with Wei Wuxian’s career choice.”

“...Seriously.”

“You did not hear them. I’m aware of the publics perception of us, particularly Wangji, but trust me. He’s not nearly as prudish as people seem to think.” Zewu-Jun states, sliding the phone back with a rueful smile and a familiar look.

Nie Mingjue exits out of the app before shutting off and pocketing his phone. He knew that look. The look of an elder brother who really didn’t need to know so much about their younger brother’s sex life. He knew that look well. “Right. Speaking of Hanguang-Jun, how would he react?”

Zewu-Jun purses his lips. “I can’t say he’ll be particularly favourable. Wangji’s always been quite, possessive.”

“Wei Wuxian is persuasive. I’m kind of curious as to who would falter first.” Nie Mingjue snorts, picking up his own cup of tea. It was good tea.

Zewu-Jun’s eyebrows were furrowed, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Wuxian’s not going give up his livelyhood. He enjoys it. Even if he falls back in love with Hanguang-Jun, I’m not sure he’ll quit it.” Nie Mingjue states, shaking his head. It was an understatement. Wei Wuxian loves his job. As he so often gushes. Nie Mingjue’s honestly just happy Wei Wuxian doesn’t give him details.

Zewu-Jun slowly nods, understanding dawning, “You think Wei-gongzi will convince Wangji to do porn.” Zewu-Jun winces, “I, hate that I cannot say it’s out of the realm of possibilities.”

Nie Mingjue snorts and then smirks, “Ah, Zewu-Jun, how about a friendly bet?”

Zewu-Jun’s brows pinch slightly, eye narrowing, before he smirks, “Only if you call me Lan Xichen.”

Ohhhkay. Zewu-Jun had said to at the beginning of their meeting, but Nie Mingjue had honestly kind of ignored it. Immortals are a big deal. But then again. He was about to gamble with one. “Ok, Lan Xichen, why don’t we make a bet in favour of our, brothers.” Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure what else to refer to them as. If Nie Huaisang was married, then technically Wei Wuxian would be his brother. If they’re not, he might as well be at this point either way.

“Are Huaisang and Wuxian married?” Lan Xichen cuts in, confused.

“I’m not entirely sure. Maybe. Not important.” Nie Mingjue shakes his head, “If Hanguang-Jun manages to convince Wei Wuxian to quit his work, you win, and if Wei Wuxian manages to convince Hanguang-Jun to do porn, I win.”

Lan Xichen nods, smiling with interest, “And what are we betting?”

Nie Mingjue smirks, this was going to be fun.

#Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #implied sangxian #implied previous wangxian #lxc #nmj #cql #The names in Mingjue’s phone are not a sex thing #It’s just the characters from Lilo and Stitch #They’re not that mean to nmj #My writing

[yuziyuanapologist]

i got this as an ask several weeks ago, from the angst prompt list that i cant be bothered finding again, wangxian + “shit, are you bleeding?” unfortunately sometimes tumblr decides that i must pay for my crimes and deleted the ask instead of saving it as a draft. so. but i had the fic saved! so once more with feeling:

it’s here on ao3, 2.9k words, canon divergence from ep33, no big warnings but mostly-non-graphic injury description and also my personal vendetta against the lan clan’s rules.

big thank u to @goldencorecrunches for reading this over and generally being the best

It’s been a strange few days. 

As Wei Wuxian wakes up from what feels like a dream, he finds himself somewhere he’s never been - yet somewhere familiar, all the same. The sound of soft notes - the song of clarity - floats through to his consciousness, he turns his head to the side, smiling gently at Lan Zhan, deep in concentration with his fingers on the strings.

It’s not the way he would have chosen, to come here to Gusu, but he could get used to it. He’s certainly grateful for it, brought here safe instead of dragged back to Lotus Pier - or, indeed, slaughtered where he stood. 

Zidian gets no more pleasant, in a new body. Sixteen years away clearly has not mellowed his sh- his ex-shidi. 

He has questions, though, as to why the sixteen years have worked in what seems like the opposite way on Lan Zhan. Wasn’t he desperate to scold Wei Wuxian before, wasn’t he desperate to - drag him back here to Gusu?

Well, he managed. But it - well, either it was never as bad as he thought it would be in his last life, or Lan Zhan’s intentions are more gentle now. Sweeter. He’s simply playing for Wei Wuxian, dressed all in white save for -

“Shit, are you bleeding?”

The notes come to a discordant halt as Wei Wuxian forces himself to sit. Lan Zhan straightens his shoulders - the shoulders that, down one side, are tainted with a stain of dark red.

His only answer - typical Lan Zhan - is “Mn.”

“Lan Zhan - wh-”

“Do not panic,” Lan Zhan says, even as Wei Wuxian hauls himself to standing, his legs buckling beneath him in protest. Lan Zhan stands in one fluid motion, and crosses the room to take Wei Wuxian’s arm, and lift him back to the bed. 

Wei Wuxian protests half-heartedly, but only from sitting - he really is weak in this new body.

“It is nothing unexpected,” Lan Zhan says, quiet resignation filling his voice. “Stay.”

“Lan Zhan-“

But Lan Zhan has already crossed the room, moved behind the screen in the corner, and Wei Wuxian’s vision is fuzzy already from standing so quickly - he can’t protest, or follow - he can only wait.

It’s not long, a few minutes at most, that Wei Wuxian passes with his head in his hands, trying to fit this information in somewhere that makes sense - although, of course, he’s been gone sixteen years. It could be anything.

Lan Zhan emerges, and his robes are once again pure white, as if nothing had ever happened.

He settles back behind his guqin, and his fingers meet the strings once again, soft notes melting into the evening. 

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian speaks up, even though, despite the sixteen years since he's known him - he knows he will give no answer

As predicted, he gets only silence. 

"Was it Zidian? Did Jiang Cheng-" he cuts himself off with a shake of his head. That's not how Zidian works, and he knows it. The only likely part of that story is Jiang Cheng, and perhaps - but Lan Zhan was so unconcerned, it can't be a recent injury. And it is nothing unexpected - 

"Is it a curse?" 

"You ought to have paid more attention in your lectures here." 

Wei Wuxian scoffs. “I’ve been dead for sixteen years,” he reminds Lan Zhan. “Even if i had paid attention, would you really expect me to remember?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t respond beyond a slow blink, one that could disguise the edges of a smile - but it’s been sixteen years. It could just as easily be anything else.

After too long in silence, Wei Wuxian lets out a sigh. This isn’t how he wanted to begin to make amends, this isn’t who he would choose to be, on his second chance. Overbearing, insistent, prying. That was for Lan Zhan, that was for sixteen years ago. “Lan Zhan -”

“It does not matter,” Lan Zhan interrupts, and his voice falls to soft tones, evocative of tears that no one has shed. “You are here.”

*

Blood runs slowly into the water of the Cold Springs. Wei Wuxian watches, his mouth slack with worry. For all that Lan Zhan had acted as though it was nothing to concern himself with - and for all that he had then refused to speak more about it - this wound is deep. It cuts from the top of his shoulder blade, all the way down below the water, and the blood flows thick and steady.

There are other scars, too - long healed, but that might once have been just as deep.

“Lan Zhan -“

As soon as the words sound in the quiet air, Lan Zhan's tranquility is stopped  - he flees the water and dresses before Wei Wuxian can even finish the sentence. But - on his way out of the water - he exposes a second wound across his lower back - shallower, than the first, the blood thin and only trickling from the wound - but still it bleeds.

Lan Zhan moves to face him on the bank of the stream, tying his robes closed. He blinks slow, and opens his mouth at the same time as Wei Wuxian. “Wei Y-”

“You said it wasn't anything to worry about,” Wei Wuxian says, barely even trying to keep the accusation out of his voice. “This is - this is -" he lets it rush out in a breath - there aren't words for what he means to say. 

"It is nothing to worry about," Lan Zhan repeats, without meeting Wei Wuxian eyes. But there's a pallor to his skin, a weakness to his breath - he takes a step, and stumbles. 

"Lan Zhan!" 

"I am fine," says Lan Zhan. "My body will adjust." 

"What do you mean? Can you not give me a straight answer?" 

Lan Zhan's eyes drift shut. "I need to rest." He moves past Wei Wuxian and starts down the path. 

Wei Wuxian is not so easily distracted. "You need a doctor, Lan Zhan," he tries to insist, reaching for Lan Zhan's arm, but he's shrugged off in an instant - and though it's weak, Wei Wuxian has almost no choice but to let go. He follows along, though, hand inches from Lan Zhan's arm in case he needs to hold him up.

A minute later, Lan Zhan replies in a low voice. "No doctor of the Cloud Recesses can help." 

"What? What do you mean?" 

But try as he might, he gets no further answer from Lan Zhan, until they're back in his jingshi and Lan Zhan settles cross legged on the floor, eyes falling shut and yet doing nothing to slow the red bloom on the back of his white robes. 

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian tries again, but he is ignored. "Lan Zhan, at least -" a solution comes to him. "Do you have a needle and thread, then? Preferably silver, but I mean, I get that we can't all be Wen Qing," he laughs a little to himself, and feels the pull of guilt down at the bottom of his stomach. She's gone, says his chest. Sixteen years gone. And - that's enough time to be fine, says his head. 

Lan Zhan doesn't reply. 

"I will tear this room apart, Lan Zh-" 

"It is against the rules." 

"What, to have needle and thread?" 

"To stitch the wound." 

None of this adds up in the slightest. Wei Wuxian falls into sitting beside Lan Zhan so that he's facing him, leaning his weight on his hands. 

And, not that he expected otherwise, but Lan Zhan does not look at him. 

"Why -" 

Lan Zhan lets out a breath, as close to a frustrated sigh as he has likely ever been. 

"You have to know I'll keep asking, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian grins, shifting so that he can knock his shoulder into Lan Zhan's. "Just tell me." 

"It is a punishment," says Lan Zhan. "The lesson has not been learnt, so the wound will not heal." 

Wei Wuxian feels all traces of mirth vanish from his face. 

"You mean," he swallows. "The section of the rules that I once asked about - the one that Zewu Jun assured me was about an outdated practice that hadn't been used for seventy years?" 

A moment's silence. Then - 

"Mn." 

"What could you have possibly done - what could you still be -" he's incredulous, disbelieving, but the answer dawns on him before he finishes the sentence. "Oh." He exhales all of the energy, lets his anger become cold and sharp, a means to an end - a flavour of fury that feels, perhaps thankfully, a little less easy than it had been in the last life - but he still knows it well. "It's me, isn't it?" 

Lan Zhan's eyes open, falling on Wei Wuxian, softened with worry, creased with pain, and yet truthful in silence. 

"Lan Zhan, I can't -" 

"Stay," Lan Zhan says - pleads. "My body will adjust." 

Already, Wei Wuxian is shaking his head. "How can I -" 

"I lost you, before," Lan Zhan says, voice shaking, strangled, almost inaudible. "It would hurt more - to lose you again." 

It softens Wei Wuxian's anger, and yet fuels it. "Lan Zhan." 

And yet, he knows where his talents lie. In mischief and craft, in deviance and trick. 

"I'll make you a deal," he says, and though Lan Zhan's eyes have fallen shut again, there's a shift to his brow, a worry and a resignation. "I'll stay. If - you let me stitch you up." 

Lan Zhan swallows. "It is against the rules," he says weakly. 

One side of Wei Wuxian's mouth pulls up in disgust. "If you think I ever cared about that, you have the wrong measure of me." 

He's awarded with the barest hint of a smile,but still no agreement. Coming to a decision, Wei Wuxian reaches into his robes for a blank talisman, and without casting anything onto it, he places it down on Lan Zhan's lap. 

"Hostage situation," he smiles. "Freeze talisman. Lan Zhan, whatever will you do?" 

Lan Zhan opens his eyes to glance down. "Wei Ying," he says. "This is blank." 

"Mm, pretty sure you can't move, actually, so," Wei Wuxian tails off with a mischievous shrug. "Needle and thread? Or should I go?" 

“Don’t go,” is the response, so quiet and desolate that Wei Wuxian almost caves - but this is for Lan Zhan’s own good. “The drawer behind the screen.”

Wei Wuxian smiles, hand to Lan Zhan’s forearm in thanks as he stands. 

True to the request, Lan Zhan stays exactly as he is while Wei Wuxian digs around for everything he needs; needle and thread; a basin of water and cloth; bandages, too. He returns to kneel carefully behind Lan Zhan, and hesitates with his hand a finger’s breadth above his shoulder.

“Lan Zhan - can I -” He finds the edge of the robe with his fingers, brushing the skin of his neck.

There’s an almost imperceptible nod - and - a shudder? -as Lan Zhan reaches for the tie of his robes, and loosens it, enough to shrug the robe off his shoulder down to pool at his waist. Half-dried blood sticks the fabric of his undershirt to the wound, and Wei Wuxian tries not to wince along with Lan Zhan as he pulls just a little too roughly, murmuring an apology. 

It’s not that he’s ever seen blood before, of course not - but it’s been a long time since he’s seen Lan Zhan in any pain, and it does not get any easier.

“Lan Zhan,” he keeps his voice low as if the volume will also cause pain, and lifts a damp cloth to the site of the wound, to ease the pull. “I know you said - you want me to stay - but -” He finally manages to tug the shirt away, exposing the wound for how deep it truly goes. “I’m not worth this.”

“You are.” It’s a tone that allows no arguments, a certainty that allows no doubt. All Wei Wuxian can do is believe it. Or - well - leave his rebuttal unsaid.

He shakes his head, for himself, since Lan Zhan won’t see it, and sets about cleaning the wound. The flow of blood is steady - not lethal, of course it couldn’t be, if a lesson is supposed to be learnt by the end, but it is enough that, no sooner than Wei Wuxian has wiped it away, more has taken its place, and soon enough he’s left with a blood-soaked cloth and a wound that still pours.

His hands have never been steady, but when sewing up his own wounds back in the Burial Mounds (“Just give me the needle, Wen Qing, I can do it myself”) it hadn’t mattered - because the only pain he was dealing with was his own, and he deserved it - he could barely feel it anyway. Here, now, with Lan Zhan soft before him, hands resting on his knees and shaking every time the wound is disturbed, he needs to be strong, stable, careful.

He lifts the needle. “Lan Zhan - it’ll hurt.” 

He thinks, anyway. He thinks it used to hurt.

The only response he gets is a determined hum, the muscles below his fingers tensing. 

“Okay,” he says, and sets to work. As he does, he desperately searches for something to distract Lan Zhan with - every time the needle goes in he tenses - slight enough to be unnoticeable, but clear enough that even Lan Zhan can’t hide it. 

He could joke about it - well, if you won’t let me leave, this is the only option - or he could talk of something else -  but all other subjects have evaded him since he’s been faced with this wound and the second, with the countless other scars, with the bare skin of Lan Zhan’s body, before him, slashed and destroyed for protecting - 

“You didn’t only protect me,” he says quietly, distracting himself enough to run his finger over one of the other scars. “These other scars -” he reaches one unlike the others, threaded through with familiar black filaments. “There was one for each of us?”

Lan Zhan lowers his head, but does not respond. It’s close enough to a nod, and Wei Wuxian mimics the gesture, before returning to the task at hand - his eyes falling on the second wound, barely even bleeding, but unmistakably still open. He tries to fit it in, between everything else he knows - but finds no space for it. “And this one? Was there -”

He cuts himself off before he dares to hope. It will only lead to disappointment.

“It -” Lan Zhan exhales shakily. “It’s - different.”

Wei Wuxian can say nothing to the dismissal, knowing that Lan Zan will say no more, but narrows his eyes.

He’s close to finished, now, and the stitches seem to be holding so far. But - it’s not a permanent solution.

He lifts Lan Zhan's undershirt from the floor, and shakes his head at the bloodstain. 

"Lan Zhan, where do you keep spare clothes?" he asks. "I'm done here, but you can't exactly put this back on." 

"I will -" he starts to stand, but Wei Wuxian catches him by the waist, pulling him back down. 

"Stay still," he instructs. "You're injured." 

He - for some reason, he can't bring himself to let go of Lan Zhan, now, though he shows no signs of moving again. Instead, he keeps his hands where they are, not holding tight - not even holding, just - touching. His Lan Zhan. 

He strokes his hands up and down Lan Zhan's bare skin, testing his limits, his eyes trained carefully on the wound - both to make sure he doesn't disturb, and simultaneously deep in thought about it. Lan Zhan's breath comes unsteady with hands on his skin, but not - if Wei Wuxian is correct - upset. 

"It's been sixteen years," Wei Wuxian says absentmindedly. "And you still think I'm worth this." 

"Yes," Lan Zhan says, with no trace of doubt. "You are." 

Wei Wuxian can't help but let out a huff of laughter, letting his head fall forward to Lan Zhan's uninjured shoulder. "You're so -" he sighs out whatever it was that he was going to say - his mind can't summon the right words anyway. 

With his eyes on his - admittedly imperfect - needlework, he conjures other questions.

“This discipline whip that they used,” he says, letting calculating anger control his thoughts but trying his hardest to keep his voice soft. “Where is it kept?”

He’s almost patient, waiting for Lan Zhan to respond, but when more seconds pass, he prompts “Lan Zhan?”

“Why do you ask?”

As if he doesn’t know. “Any talisman, however complex, can be reversed. Even on a spiritual tool.”

“It is against -”

“If you want me to stay,” replies Wei Wuxian. “Then I have to try.”

For a moment, he wonders if Lan Zhan will refuse him. If he will say, after all, that perhaps he has come to his senses, perhaps the rules are more important - but at long last, he sighs. 

"The storeroom behind the library pavilion. It is guarded during the day, and warded in the night." 

"Good thing I've broken your wards before, then," Wei Wuxian smiles, glancing out at the still bright sky. Later, then. He smiles to himself, and slides his hands forward, pulling Lan Zhan into an embrace - one that he could easily shake off, but doesn’t. In fact, his shoulders, tense as they had been, settle into relaxation, a breath of calm. “I suppose I should get you a shirt.”

Lan Zhan moves his hands to cover Wei Wuxian's, leaning his head back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder and turning to bury his face into his neck. His eyes are shut - he’s almost smiling.

“Stay,” he murmurs.

Wei Wuxian can't help the quiet laugh that escapes him. "I already said I will, Lan Zhan."

#ah the classic: au with more potential than i have talent #the untamed #the untamed fic #wangxian fic #wangxian #im sorry anon i lost your ask #i hope u see this #mine #fic*

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

Next bit of Soldier, Poet, King!

--//--

Lan Xichen isn’t sure how long they’ve been there when there’s a tentative knock at the door and he turns his head enough to spot Wen Ning, of all people, poking his pale face around the door frame.

“Zewu-jun, Chifeng-zun,” he greets with a little bob of his head. “Jie’s looking after Jiang-guniang and Jin-gongzi, she sent me to check on the three of you.”

“Come in, Qionglin. How are they?”

“Unconscious, but stable,” he says with barely a stutter as he bustles in, a standard issue portable first aid kit strapped between his thigh and hip. “They’ll be alright, jiejie’s the best doctor in the world for neural overload.”

“Mn. And..Wangji? Wuxian?” It feels wrong to ask, a jinx, but Wen Ning just nods again as he settles in on his knees there on the floor with them at the top of Jin Guangyao’s head so that Nie Mingjue doesn’t need to change how he’s holding him for Wen Ning to start taking his vitals.

“They’re fine! They got in a shelter when it hit land. Wei-gongzi borrowed a phone off someone they were with in the bunker and called jie once they opened back up to let people out. They said they’re going to help with the clean-up and redirecting everyone back to the residential quarters, but they’ll be back as soon as they’re finished.”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes and turns his face away from Wen Ning to have a moment to let pure, naked relief cross his features. His hands shake where he’s supporting Jin Guangyao’s head and still cupping the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck and Nie Mingjue leans in to brush a kiss to his cheek in silent understanding.

Wen Ning works in silence for a few long moments, taking Jin Guangyao’s vitals and, when Lan Xichen gives him a nod to go ahead, checking his eyes with a flashlight. Lan Xichen’s hope that it would wake him up is in vain, but Wen Ning doesn’t look any more concerned or serious than usual so he does his best to believe that this isn’t overly worrying.

“I’d need to get him down to the medical labs for a full test if you want me to scan his brain activity, but I’d say he’s mostly just been overwhelmed,” Wen Ning says when he’s finished and he gently sits back to let Nie Mingjue readjust his grip on Jin Guangyao again. “I…I heard what happened. His flashbacks would have taken a lot out of him to begin with, even before the..the rest of it. He needs to rest somewhere quiet, your quarters should be perfectly fine. Though of course if you want to bring him down to the medical bay you’re welcome to. We’ve got plenty of cots.”

“We’ll take him home,” Nie Mingjue rasps. He sounds like absolute hell, and Lan Xichen sees Wen Ning pick up on that instantly, his wide gaze turning shrewd.

“Chifeng-zun. I’d like to examine you as well.”

“I’m fine.”

Lan Xichen subtly shifts a little to the side to give Wen Ning room to get a look at Nie Mingjue’s eyes, which he realizes too late are bloodshot, and more than a little unfocused.

“Jie’s orders. Everyone gets a checkup.”

“I said I’m fine!”

#the untamed fanfic #wip wednesday #3zun #soldier poet king

[disastermages]

“What’s wrong with it?” Xiyao

“Zewu-jun… This is…” Meng Yao holds the ruined robe out at arm’s length, brown eyes wide and blinking as he stares at the rips in the silk. It would have been better if it had been one of his robes that Lan Xichen had ripped in his well meant attempt at washing them, but no, this was one of Lan Xichen’s own, and Meng Yao has to resist the need to press his fingers softly against those tears.

He couldn’t mend this robe, someone with sewing skills much, much better than his couldn’t mend this robe.

“What’s wrong with it?” Lan Xichen asks cautiously, the sleeves of the robe he’s currently wearing are still soaked with laundry water, as if he hadn’t thought about tying them back at all. 

Damp as the robe still is, Meng Yao pulls it protectively against his chest, allowing it to soak into the front of his clothes. If Lan Xichen were anyone else, Meng Yao might have had an easier time telling them what they had done wrong, but when he looks up at Lan Xichen, careful words of instruction die on his tongue.

Lan Xichen has always looked at him too earnestly, but rather than running, Meng Yao has always wanted to root himself into the spot where Lan Xichen looks at him.

“Perhaps Zewu-jun should allow this one to wash his clothes from now on.” Meng Yao’s words come out gently, his grip tightening on the robe in his hands. He’d only tear it more than Lan Xichen already had if he kept it up, but Lan Xichen is smiling softly at him now.

“I had hoped to return some of your generosity, A-Yao.” Lan Xichen starts, bowing his head quickly, taking the length of the robe that Meng Yao had left dangling into his hand and running his thumb over the fabric, almost apologetically.

Meng Yao won’t allow himself to cover Lan Xichen’s hand with his own. He won’t.

“Perhaps I could try cooking.” Lan Xichen offers when Meng Yao says nothing, and the smile that had crossed Meng Yao’s face slowly, nearly drops away before he can catch it, brown eyes blinking quickly again.

“If Zewu-jun feels so inclined.” Meng Yao swallows quickly.

#xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #lan huan #meng yao #lxc #jgy #listen i love lxc a lot hes one of my favs #but yall cannot convince me that this man would be worth a damn at cooking and doing laundry #Anonymous

[tangledinmdzs]

Hello, I enjoy your writings so much! They are so good. Could I please request the reactions of the 3zuns to the aftermath of an asphoradic incident between them and the reader (all separately), and the reader acting nonchalant about what happened. I don’t know why, but I just have this scenario puzzling within my mind right now and wonder what they would do. Thank you.

hello~

aw thank you for your nice comments; and ooooh i like this, let's try it out.

cheers!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Lan Xichen

when you were called to Lan Xichen’s Hanshi to talk about the incident that had transpired between you both a few days ago

the last thing that you had expected

was for the Sect Leader,

to suddenly, attempt to bow at you

“Zewu-Jun!” you shout, immediately getting on your knees in front of him to stop his full deep kowtow

“why are you doing this, this is unnecessary,” you stutter out to him, but your Sect Leader can’t look at you, for the first time

“...we...the aphrodisiac...” Lan Xichen breathes out, worried, the desperate heat of that time still scaring him, that he still feels even though the effects have long worn off,

“you are not at fault for that, none of that was your fault,” you state, hands clutching onto his elbows tighter

Lan Xichen looks up at your touch, still pensive, still sorry that you had been wrapped up in such a terrible intention with him

“besides nothing happened, you do not apologize for things that didn’t occur,” 

your gentle calm words ground him, makes him feel so utterly grateful 

even though he is disappointed at himself,

scared that such an ominous threat had occurred so closely to him

he’s glad of your grace and understanding

Nie Mingjue

Mingjue does not remember much from what had transpired the night before 

and that is something that doesn’t sit right with him, 

it was not a mystery that he liked unsolved

and when you are sat next to him, morning sunlight spilling down your hair 

you still do not divulge

“...the aphrodisiac incense must have been an insider’s work,” 

since you both have sat down to talk, there was more comments that you made about the intentions and the suspects that were around this incident other than what happened during the incident

“we have to be a lot more careful now, who knows-”

“did anything else happen last night?” Mingjue interrupts, with haste, very unlike him

you blink at his interrupt, tilting your head in confusion as you let out a questionable, “no?”

“no?” Nie Mingjue copies your tone and you just let out a small laugh at his eyes,

“no, nothing happened Sect Leader,” you reaffirm, patting his hand beside you 

“...why? were you expecting another outcome?” you jest and Nie Mingjue manages to hold himself together by the tiniest thread,

unbelievable it is to him, how you could still joke about moments like that

but when you make fun of his reddening cheeks, and the way he can’t meet your eyes,

Mingjue’s heart feels a bit lighter,

that there are no bad feelings between you 

Meng Yao

the air is crisp, sat out in the Lanling gardens 

“i owe you an apology,” Meng Yao tells you, where you’re sat next to him, 

the flowers are blooming today, and you watch that instead of turning to face Meng Yao’s voice

“you do not owe me an apology when nothing has happened,” you are a lot more nonchalant than he expected

the memories of the aphrodisiac incident of last night are blurry, hazy at best in the back of his mind

he’s not quite sure of anything

only really, that you had been there before everything turned foggy

“i am still sorry,” Meng Yao amends and his deep voice makes you turn to look at him

you catch this weird unreadable look in his eyes,

you take a breath

“it’s okay,” you reassure him, attempt a smile

at your words, Meng Yao gives you a curt nod, bowing gently before he leaves

he is busy, he doesn’t stay with you long anyways

which is why you are soon left alone to your own thoughts

and what you make of the kiss that you both had shared,

and the warmth of his palm against the back of your neck

is something that he will never know

lost to his memory

#mdzs #mdzs request #mdzs request me to write #mdzs request list #mdzs requests #mdzs request something #mdzs anon replies #mdzs anon requests #mdzs anon #mdzs scenario request #mdzs imagine request #mdzs reaction request #mdzs x reader #mdzs x y/n #mdzs reader #mdzs reader insert #mdzs self insert #mdzs nie mingjue x reader #nie mingjue x reader #mdzs nie mingjue #mdzs lan xichen x reader #lan xichen x reader #mdzs meng yao x reader #meng yao x reader #jin guangyao x reader #the untamed x reader #cql x reader #tangledwriting

[stiltonbasket]

[soulmate au! prompt] Lan Wangjis reaction to hearing his soulmate laugh for the first time in 16+ years after wwx is resurrected

“Wangji! Wangji, wake up, look at your Huan-da--daifu, what’s the matter with him?”

His brother was beside him, shouting into Lan Wangji’s ears while the thick, cloying scent of battle gore seeped into his nose; but for once in his nineteen years, Lan Wangji could not find the strength to answer him. His spirit was nothing but an open wound, forever rent in two by the blow of his zhiyin’s demise--and no matter how desperately Lan Xichen called, the anguish in his voice could not match the bone-deep torment of Lan Wangji’s frayed bond, slashed to ribbons and cast asunder like a tattered war-flag left to unravel in the wind.

“Come away from him,” he hears one of the healers cry. “His soulmate is dead, Zewu-jun--it will be a wonder if he knows you at all until the shock is over!”

But the shock never faded, not entirely; and when Wei Ying reappeared at the Yiling courier station three months later, Lan Wangji cleaved to him heart and soul, almost as if he were the lost beloved whose name Lan Wangji would never have the chance to know.

__

When the part of his heart that once belonged to his mingding zhiren awakes for the first time in twenty years, Lan Wangji is certain he imagined it. After all, he felt his soulmate’s death as if their life was a little beating heart, being torn bodily out of his flesh so that he would perish in his absence; but he had lived on after that, and often imagined that he could feel his soulmate’s laughter despite the gaping void in the bond they left behind.

But when the laughter rings out again--insistent, wild, desperate like Lan Wangji would have been, if he ever had the chance to welcome a beloved newly returned from the grave--he leaps out of the tea-serving stall where he meant to wait for Sizhui and Jingyi (Jiang-zongzhu has already gone ahead, so determined to see his nephew win the hunt that he refuses to let the child lead his disciples on his own) and rushes up the mountain, neither knowing nor caring where he goes as he goes somewhere.

It can’t be, he thinks wildly, suddenly remembering the battlefield in Heijian where he felt his soulmate die. That feeling cannot be mistaken, not like this, and it has been half my lifetime since--

And then, as if today’s revelations have no limit whatsoever, he hears a warped, broken strain of music warbling out of a flute.

That is a terrible musician, is Lan Wangji’s first thought.

That is Wangxian, is the next.

Almost before he knows it, Lan Wangji reaches a flat, dusty turning in the road, and freezes at the sight of a thin young man standing there, playing his heart’s song on a crude bamboo dizi as if the melody had been written for him, and drawing Wen Ning away from the rest of the crowd. Lan Wangji is rooted to the spot, unable to think or move or breathe as Wen Ning leaps away amid the chaos, jumping straight past Jiang Wanyin--and Jiang Wanyin gives chase, letting out a roaring bellow and charging into the trees with the Jiang disciples at his heels, and then the man playing the flute falls to his knees and weeps.

But he is laughing through his tears, sucking in air and expelling it again as if he fears that he might suffocate, and Lan Wangji watches as his son and nephew run to his side, helping him lift his head while Jingyi fumbles in his qiankun bag for a bottle of water.

“He really is a lunatic!” Jingyi cries, clearly panicking: he most strongly resembles his Nie xiao-shushu in moments of crisis, especially when the crises involve ghosts or unquiet spirits. “Is it safe to make him drink water, Yuan-ge? Will he choke?”

“Gongzi,” Lan Sizhui says urgently, patting the man’s hand as Lan Wangji finally musters up the strength to move towards them. “Gongzi, did Jiang-zongzhu frighten you? You don’t have to worry about him, all right? You saved all our lives at Mo Manor last night, and we wouldn’t make you go with him anyway--you haven’t done any harm, even if you do cultivate the dark path!”

Cultivate the dark path--

Lan Wangji’s head is swimming. On the ground about six paces in front of him, the young man seems to be working himself up into a frenzy, letting out shouts of manic, high-pitched laughter and sobbing at the same time, and his eyes--a curious shade of grey, which Lan Wangji has only ever seen on a single beloved person--are fixed upon Sizhui’s, drinking in his every feature like a man guzzling water after nearly dying of thirst.

Wangxian.

Zhiji.

Lan Sizhui, who was first his beloved’s child before he became theirs, A-Yuan--

Vaguely, he wonders if his own heart, still registering the joy of his fated beloved after over two decades of silence, could possibly have stopped beating.

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji says: loudly, and clearly, making the man crumpled in the dust shake from head to foot. “Hold Mo-gongzi upright for a moment, so I can lift him. We will bring him back to Gusu.”

Wei Ying--for this unfamiliar-looking Mo-gongzi can only be Wei Ying, to play Wangxian so earnestly and nearly cry himself sick at the knowledge that A-Yuan is alive and well--gives a little gasp in Sizhui’s arms, tearing his gaze away from him and staring at Lan Wangji, and then he makes a small, hurt sound and faints dead away onto Jingyi’s lap.

“Shufu!” Lan Jingyi howls, completely forgetting that Hanguang-jun is the correct honorific to use in public, even for him; and looking ready to faint himself, unless Lan Wangji intervenes. “Uncle, I think he’s dead!”

A sharp pang goes through his chest. “Do not say such things, A-Yi,” Lan Wangji scolds gently, rushing to Sizhui’s side and lifting Wei Ying into his embrace. “Look, he is still breathing. Now, round up your classmates and follow me. We are leaving.”

When Sizhui and Jingyi finally turn away (casting several glances over their shoulders as they go, as if afraid that their mysterious savior from Mo Manor really might die by the time they get back) Lan Wangji waits for the rogue cultivators to clear out, and then he bows his head over Wei Ying’s and cries.

You came back, he sobs to himself, taking Wei Ying’s cold hands in his and pressing them to his lips. Wei Ying--you came back to me!

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #soulmate au #my fic #HERE IT IS AT LONG LAST #*jazz hands* i just think they're neat #pls reblog guys i beg on my knees #more reblogs = more prompts rip lol #but just #they!!!!!!