Detachable heads is a good perk of making your sorta ex be undead. I mean... it's practical
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AU where Huaisang dies by the saber (before WWX death) and becomes a fierce corpse.
Why? Because I thought it was cool.
This will have:
Nie Mingjue in grief
WWX making the same things he did with Wen Ning but at Huaisang.
Huaisang living with the Wen remnants at the Burial Grounds.
Huaisang, Wen Qing, Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian being BFFS.
Huaisang being a complete UNCLE TO A-YUAN
Huaisang having to keep the fact that he's alive in secret or else shit might happen (the fuckin sabers, always the fuckin sabers)
Huaisang knowing how to fight (because of resentments and the fact that he's a fierce body)
Nie Mingjue lives (because instead of killing him, Guangyao sees more opportunity in taking advantage of his grief and manipulates him)
Huaisang is the one that saves A-Yuan (and delivers him to Wangji) and prevents the remnents to be completely slaughtered.
(Wei Wuxian still dies tho)
Huaisang grows to detest Jin Guangyao the same way because of the other atrocities he has done.
Nie Huaisang is still the mastermind of 16 years after.
Huaisang and Mingjue having the happy ending they fuckin deserve
And whatever else you guys think would be cool
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Sometimes I wonder...
... what would’ve happened if Lan Xichen died and was trapped in the same coffin as Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue.
Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue already fight for a hundred years in the regular ending, but imagine how much worse it would be to have all three of them together again in the same coffin. And this time, all the secrets are out there.
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Please consider that jgy says nmj has no vices, and nmj became sect leader in his teens, and has likely suppressed his own hobbies and preferences because of his core belief that the sect comes first. Which is part of the reason hes so indulgent with his brother, he feels like he lost his childhood and refuses to do that to nhs
I LOVE HAVING FEELINGS ABOUT NIE MINGJUE. I have a full collection of them, they're all in nice little display cases and they mostly involve PAIN.
I do love the duality of Mingjue wanting Huaisang to be strong but also wanting him to just get a chance at being happy. His priority probably shifted the longer the Wen sect put pressure on them and the more he felt the resentment building from his cultivation. At some point he had to stop indulging NHS and make sure he'd be a good leader because NMJ knew he wouldn't be around much longer to hold the torch.
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A combination of overworking and old injuries mean that Jin Guangyao tends to have flare ups of pain and her body simply giving out. And it’s not like Nie Mingjue has any pity for issues caused by her ceaseless attempts to please her father either.
Is anyone interested in femslash NieYao along with chronic pain and massages?
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in a different world where jgy was brought back to koi tower, where he grew up a more privileged life, a world where he got to go study at the cloud recesses with lxc as teenagers
lxc can't help the way he falls for the clever and polite jgy, jgy is starstruck by the elegant and beautiful lxc, and nmj teases them both too loud and too rough for either of their tastes but they can't help but admire nmj for his brass
jgy would fit so well in the cloud recesses even lqr would admire him and approve of lxc's friendship with him
they could've grown up, jgy rising to power (because he's still jgy) and their three sects becoming a powerhouse in the cultivation world, sworn brothers that everyone envies and admires for how inseparable they are, they got each other's backs till the end (except nmj is still himself ofc and well... we're ignoring that little fallout, this is a fluff post)
in a different world they could have been childhood friends and I think jgy deserves a slice of that world for all the shit he's been through
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As much as I love protective! Nie mingjue, protective! Nie hausiang is so much better. Maybe I'm projecting but he seems like the type to, when he finds out / is informed, the type to not give a shit. He's the " no I don't care about nuance you hurt someone I loved and you either get the fuck away or you'll pay hell for it ". This is specifically in relation to Nie Mingjue because I live the nie bros way to much.
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So I'm having tea cup envy after visiting with a friend of mine this weekend. So I'm looking at teacups on Etsy, like ya do, and looking for things that give me Qinghe Nie feels, because I'm nothing if not predictable.
But then I'm seeing very lovely gaiwan (I dunno if they should be translated as cups or pots, considering how I most often see them used) and kinda want one of them. So I change my search. And there's many very beautiful, elegant gaiwan to choose from.
Then I see a gaiwan with adorable sleeping kittens painted on it.
And I am *struck* by the mental image of Nie Mingjue with a collection of just... Really adorable stuff? It's all for private use, not when visitors need to be awed and all, but just.... In CQL the Unclean Realm is so... Imposing and dark.... All the stone and wood is dark. And the tea set we see set up in Wangji's room in the Unclean Realm in episode 10 is a very fine looking black pircelain.
But just... Just picture Nie Mingjue using this
Imagine him and Nie Huaisang having tea... Maybe with Meng Yao? Using this set
I'm just ....I'm just forming head canons here...
It seems pretty likely that the very artistic Nie Huaisang did what most kids do and gifted his art to his family. I definitely headcanon NMJ as the type to never throw those gifts away. They may not always be on display, but he keeps them. And I can see NHS drawing him very cute things. So then for a while Da-ge has a collection of very cute things. When they're older and Daddy Nie has been killed and NMJ is forced to step up to be Sect Leader very young, NMJ needs to put on the serious front nearly 24/7 to be taken seriously in his role. I imagine that's very draining. I have enough of a time pretending to know what the hell I'm doing just working 8 hours a day 5 days a week!
So NHS begins buys Da-ge gifts that are just super freaking cute rather than elegant to try and cheer him up because that's what he remembers Da-ge's room being decorated in when they were kids. They're still all well crafted, but stuff like these cups. They only come out for family time and they are super adorable.
And yes, they do lighten Da-ge's spirits. ☺
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nhs fanfic favs (3)
9. The Difference Between Genius and Insanity (is being believed). by 1PB2PB3PB4 T, 9k
"In which things shake out a little differently, and Nie Huaisang decides to just watch the world burn."
i read this once, i read this twice, and i went right back to read it again. In which NHS was just a little too trusting in the beginning, and paid dearly for it. If Canon Nie Huaisang was a man with 'nothing left to lose', this Huaisang is a man with literally nothing left. Nothing left to care about, no one to turn to, abandoned by everyone, nothing driving his revenge. Hauntingly poetic, a much darker side of NHS is shown here that... well, could have very nearly been canon.
10. Telling Dreams from One Another (it's harder than you think) by vibishan M, 5k
Nie Huaisang puts down his empty teacup and picks up his fan again, eyes peering over the edge of it, dark and smooth and mysterious, like cold winter lakes at night.
“Da-ge and San-ge have reincarnated,” he says, as though discussing the nice weather. “They came to the Unclean Realm last month.”
Lan Xichen feels as if perhaps he has fallen into those eyes, shocked with freezing cold. He envies the fan. He smiles.
Granted, this isn't an nhs-centric fic, but, this is the epic Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao reincarnation fic with a hefty spoonful of angst and untold irony that everyone wants. Where... well, nmj and jgy are reincarnated. ...as brothers. yeah. lmao yall can figure out how nhs must be feeling rn
11. To Kill the King by 1PB2PB3PB4 M, 22k
"NHS finds himself in the past, after the siege of the burial mounds but before JGY has killed his brother. He wastes no time in trying to dispatch JGY before he can hurt is brother again, but also without being arrested for murder."
This is basically when, and i quote, someone takes a hammer and fixes canon already. This entire series is a clusterfuck but in all the best ways-- NHS is his usual gremlin self, he's OP in that actually believable way and is a man on a mission. Reading this one was like sitting on the edge of your chair and practically vibrating into oblivion. Love it.
12. A Hand To Your Darkness by semicryptid M, 17k
Huaisang’s eyes are steel-hard in a way Meng Yao is not prepared for. “Your choice. You take me with you as a prisoner, or I turn myself in to the Wens. Either way, you’re not going to the Nightless City alone.”
Meng Yao weighs his options, weighs the costs, calculating the best answer in a second’s time. Then he takes the logical answer and he throws it into the fire.
“Give me the rope.”
In which Nie Huaisang is tired of being left, Meng Yao is not alone, and everything changes.
Guys. guys. Holy hells the nhs characterization is this is ahhhHHHH. It's... as ironic as it is, it's hard to put into words. NHS's... well, a lot of his overshadowed thoughts and fears that don't really get shown in canon are put on full display here. Nie Huaisang is, well, being left behind, whether the others notice it or not. And this fic is all that, and more.
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I want Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang, and Nie Mingjue to form a niche friends group. No one is allowed in. They're tight and ready to conquer the world together.
Oh, and they drag a long-suffering MianMian along with them.
I don't care about anyone else.
(Wait, I care about the juniors but this isn't about those puppies)
(and the Wens. How did I forget the Wens. Wen Ning is the group baby and Wen Qing is that friend who is always rolling her eyes in the background but will cut a bitch if someone harms them.)
I mean, imagine them strutting into a discussion conference together. Name one person who wouldn't be intimidated.
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You asked for Nie headcanons and I have come to deliver and since you said you were sad I'll even make them happy ones! One of my favorite headcanons is that Huaisang's mom taught Mingjue how to paint, and Mingjue taught Huaisang how to paint in turn. Another is as a kid Mingjue carried Huaisang everywhere like he was his favorite doll and because of this Huaisang went through an intense phase of wanting to be EXACTLY like his da-ge. Mingjue uses this as ammo when blackmailing him into actually training once in a while. Mingjue loves and is incredibly good with animals, this comes in handy on hunts but also when teaching Huaisang how to catch birds and Lan Wangji how to properly hold a bunny. I hope these cheered you up a bit!
oh boy oh boy, I need to look at all of these in turn because I love them.
I like to think Nie Mingjue never had a particularly good eye for aesthetics but I bet he noticed Huaisang being a bit demoralised that he wasn't picking up martial arts as quickly as everyone else, so NMJ, like the good brother he is, tried to teach him something different. He told Huaisang as many stories of his mother as he could remember and showed him how to hold the brush correctly. It took about three lessons for Huaisang to show that he had a much better sense of aesthetics but until NMJ became sect leader NHS still insisted on the both of them painting together.
Huaisang was a pretty small and weak kid so he got tired quite easily, especially going up and down mountainous Qinghe so of course NMJ would have to carry him! He was the most spoiled little kid and he knew it. Still, NMJ looked really cool when he was swinging his saber around so of course NHS would want to try and be the same with his little wooden practice saber. He probably made it a game to imitate NMJ's posture and grandiose mannerisms behind his back, which amused all the disciples to no end. That generation of Nie disciples all have the best poker face by virtue of rigorous training as they tried not to laugh while in front of the young Nie lords.
NMJ and animals, my beloved. I bet he was halfway to becoming a horse girl as a young teen because his horse just loved him so much. He taught Huaisang to catch birds as practice for night hunts and perhaps to get him to hunt with a falcon in the future, though the jury is still out on whether that worked. (On one hand I think it would be the coolest thing ever, on the other I'm not sure Huaisang would bother to learn). Also just the idea of Mingjue interacting with little Lan Wangji is my favourite thing. The two of them would be the most intimidating pair of teen and tiny kid you'd ever see.
Thanks for these! I loved them <333
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A little something I did to indulge myself as reward for actually finishing a fic :’)
All 8 (eight) chapters of “All men are the same” are now up! Thank you so much to everybody who followed it for all the support 😌💕
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Nie Mingjue accusing Wen Qing and Wen Ning of exactly what he himself is guilty of.....
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modern nielan family go to the farmers' market and all the vendors are (≧◡≦) ♡. Tiny cuddly adorable baby or toddler with his buff cuddle dad and his elegant lawyer dad. Plus they're all very polite and buy lots of stuff.
I imagine them buying lots of bouquets at the flower booths! They make Nie Mingjue sneeze a little, but in-season flowers make the house look gorgeous.
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can we have some nielan for the art thief au? author's choice :D
(this is more lxc-focused but there's still a dash of sweet nielan! (≧◡≦) ♡ click here for AO3 link)
Twenty years ago.
The last time we celebrated Muqin’s birthday with her, it was twenty years ago.
Upon later reflection, perhaps the realization ought not to have affected Lan Xichen as it did. But twenty years is long enough to be called a long time by any measure of reckoning; and Lan Xichen is thirty now, an orphan for fully twice the span that he had either of his parents, and sometimes it feels as if he no longer remembers how it was to call for A-Niang, and Fuqin instead of Shufu, or not have to explain to new acquaintances that his parents have been dead for nearly two decades.
What did he and Wangji do on Mother’s last birthday? Lan Xichen remembers their father making a cake—a flourless one, because Mother wanted to try a new recipe she found at the library—and Wangji lay down on his stomach in the living room and labored over a card for her all morning, squeaking in dismay when Mother pretended to peer over his shoulders to see what he was doing, and then he wrapped it up in silky tissue paper and presented it to her with such delight on his solemn little face that Muqin refused to let go of him for the next twenty minutes.
Xichen was in the kitchen helping their father with the cake, he thinks. Fuqin handed him three little bottles of food coloring and told him to color the frosting, which Lan Xichen did with breathless care to ensure that the frosting turned out their mother’s favorite shade of buttery yellow.
None of them knew then that it was the last birthday they would celebrate together as a family. Mother died only two months later, quietly in her bed at Fuqin’s side, and a heart attack carried their father off six months after that.
Mother’s birthday has always been something of a private holiday within the family. When she was alive their father organized quiet celebrations for her, and Lan Xichen always spent time with Wangji that day after she passed on. But today his brother has been caught up with grading at the university where he works, so Lan Xichen is celebrating the bittersweet anniversary alone.
“You would have been fifty-six today, Mother,” he says, as he burns incense at the family memorial altar and puts a pair of red-bean buns on a platter in front of her photograph: one for her and one for Father, who loved mother’s sweet baozi so much that Shufu used to tease him about it at family dinners. “Shufu and Wangji are doing well, and so am I. And Jingyi is big enough to fit into that sweater A-Jue made from the yarn you were saving—do you remember when you took me and A-Zhan to help you pick it out?”
His mother’s smiling face looks down at him from her wedding picture, as silent and tender as she always is. Muqin is resplendent in the old qipao dress she wore that day, the only luxury she really had for her hasty wedding; Lan Xichen can almost feel its smooth embroidered flowers and pankou under his fingertips, since she often took the dress out to look at it and show it to her two sons. It was eventually put away in storage along with the rest of her belongings, but Lan Xichen found the qipao while he was preparing for his own wedding some fifteen years later, and he brought it to the house he moved into with his husband just after their son was born.
Prodded by some strange urgency, Lan Xichen makes his way to the bedroom and rifles through his closet, pulling out the long silk sleeve where the qipao dress has lain undisturbed for the past eighteen months. The dress, when he removes it from the sleeve, is mostly unchanged: only creased at the spots where it was folded, and a little dusty-smelling from being in the closet.
He shakes it out, breathing in the familiar scent of his mother’s perfume clinging to the collar, and then he walks over to the full-length mirror by the bed and holds the qipao up in front of him.
For a moment, it almost looks as if—
Lan Xichen stares at his reflection, bewildered.
“Oh,” he gasps, holding one of the bedposts in a vice grip. “Oh.”
When Lan Xichen was in his teens, Shufu hired a family friend to teach him how to do makeup: mainly how to make his face more angular, and deepen the shadows around his nose and eyebrows, and render his eyes just a little narrower than they truly were with highlighting powder. But it was an art like any other, so Liang-popo showed him how to do different kinds of makeup, too: how to make his cheeks look rounder, and his chin smaller, and call more attention to his lips and eyes than natural light did on its own. Lan Xichen never expected to use that half of what Liang-popo taught him, but he still remembers the basics: and his own face, still smooth and unlined by the sun thanks to the skincare regimens Nie Huaisang keeps coaxing him into, accepts the blush-toned powders and creams like paper soaking up ink.
Moisturizer, primer. Foundation, and concealing cream under his eyes. He took off his glasses and replaced them with contacts earlier, and tied back his long hair while he smoothed on a pale red lip tint; and now, with most of his makeup finished, he paints a small, dark mole high on his forehead—one that his mother had, but neither he nor Wangji inherited—and mists his face with setting spray.
He yanks his hair elastic out with shaking fingers, groping in the vanity drawer for bobby pins before putting his hair up into a loose chignon, and then he finally lifts his eyes and looks into the mirror again.
If he were not sitting, Lan Xichen thinks dizzily, he would have fainted dead away.
With shaking fingers, he removes his pants and shirt (one of A-Jue’s thicker pajama tops, since the weather was chilly last night) and divests himself of his binder, tossing it onto the bed with the rest of his clothes before he unbuttons the qipao and pulls it on. The dress fits like a second skin despite being several inches too short, but the side slits are so high that it hardly matters, and the collar encloses Lan Xichen’s pale throat exactly like it did his mother’s in her wedding photograph: just lax enough that he can’t really feel it, but smooth enough not to bother him either way.
Lan Xichen pads back towards the mirror, his bare feet dragging over the carpet as he goes, and then he looks up and meets his mother’s eyes for the first time in twenty years.
The resemblance, so far as it goes, is astounding. Mother was shorter, but she seemed quite tall to the ten-year-old son she left behind; and she had the same eyes and brows and nose and even the same cheekbones, with slightly fuller lips which were never thinned by parenthood as Lan Xichen’s lips have been. But then again, Wen Mingyan was a schoolteacher and not a harried lawyer who doubled as a museum thief by night, and her children were not so accomplished at getting into trouble as Lan Xichen’s own tiny son is.
At the thought of his baby, Lan Xichen hurries into the next room where A-Yi is fast asleep in his crib, with his thumb in his mouth and his pudgy little legs sticking straight up in the air. He rolls into Lan Xichen’s arms without waking, like a ball rolling into a comfortable hollow in the ground, and nestles happily under his chin on the short trip back to the bedroom.
Lan Xichen pulls a chair up in front of the mirror and sits down with Jingyi yawning in his lap, gazing at what could have been a window opening onto the past: his mother, young and strong and still with the bridal blush on her cheeks, cradling a fluffy-haired toddler that could have been the Lan Xichen of twenty-eight years ago.
He presses his lips to A-Yi’s chubby nose; and in the mirror his mother, seemingly overwhelmed by some kind of great feeling, kisses him.
Lan Xichen’s lips quiver. “Muqin—”
Suddenly, a door bangs on the ground floor, and Lan Xichen jolts back to full awareness just in time to hear his husband and brother talking in the kitchen. Mingjue seems to have returned with armfuls of grocery bags, which crinkle so loudly that A-Yi blinks awake and starts to fuss, tugging at a lock of hair that slipped out of Xichen’s loose updo.
“A-Huan?” Mingjue calls, followed by the swift thuds of his feet and Wangji’s coming up the stairs. “A-Huan, is A-Yi…”
And then both of them screech to a halt on the landing, gawking through the open door at Lan Xichen’s soft hair and make-up and the red bridal qipao. For a moment, Lan Xichen wonders what the picture looks like—he hasn’t worn a dress since before Wangji was born, and he’s certainly never worn make-up like this, so for all he knows it might look like some strange woman broke into the house to kidnap baby A-Yi.
But then Mingjue lets out a quiet breath and comes over to kiss him, brushing aside the tangled curls A-Yi pulled down, and wraps him up in a tight hug that smells of soap and sawdust from Mingjue’s woodworking studio.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he breathes, pressing his cheek to Lan Xichen’s. “I stopped to pick up dinner and fetch Wangji from the university after I left work.”
“It’s fine,” Lan Xichen murmurs back, as Jingyi stares at the large buttons on Mingjue’s sleeve before testing his tiny white teeth on them. “I got some egg porridge ready, earlier. Do you want to eat a little before we get dinner started?”
Nie Mingjue opens his mouth, probably to declare that hot vegetable congee with pidan would be delicious after being outside in the cold; but he never manages to say so, because Wangji makes a choked noise from the hallway before taking a shaky step forward.
“Xiongzhang,” he says hoarsely. “You look, you look just like—”
Mingjue takes A-Yi into his arms, and Lan Xichen reaches out towards his brother. When Wangji staggers into his embrace, all Lan Xichen can think of is that their mother never had the chance to see A-Zhan grow up so well, or know what a name he would make for himself, or even how his face would grow into a perfect meld of hers and Fuqin’s after his baby fat melted away.
She would have had to wait many years to know that last, Lan Xichen smiles to himself. A-Zhan’s cheeks were as round as A-Yi’s until after he started college.
Lan Xichen pats Wangji’s shoulder. “Mm, A-Zhan?”
Wangji hugs him impossibly tighter.
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baby Jingyi is such a little acrobat. He sleeps in all sorts of wonky positions and likes doing stretches. He also loves swimming because he can be more mobile.
Lan Xichen, after little Jingyi has been fussy all day: Love, where are you going?
Nie Mingjue, gently taking LJY out of his husband's arms: I'm going to soak him in the jacuzzi tub.
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Is this a Mafia or a detective AU?? Maybe both??
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The Untamed + Withnail&I - Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2
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We must be dreaming💙🎐 [prints]
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finished the untamed. thinking about them
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