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eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 years

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Soldier, Poet, King

Part 10

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

[AO3] [Masterpost]

[As if juggling a massive ensemble cast in a relatively small space at all times isn't already pushing me to my narrative skill limits, let's add some more players!]

-/-

Jin Guangyao knows the moment he steps into the holding room - barely better than a cell, but at least it’s private - that Wen Qing will tell him absolutely nothing she doesn’t want to. For someone who came less than a mile from dying in a Kaiju battle and had to be ferried to safety by a Jaeger, she looks awfully haughty and unwilling to bend even for the people who had protected her and her brother currently cowering behind her.

He can’t help but feel a begrudging respect for her.

“I don’t deal with Jins,” she says, sharp and precise as a needle, once he’s introduced himself (and Nie Huaisang standing at his right half-hiding his face behind his fan in his favorite method of throwing new people off). Wei Wuxian, standing at his left, obviously needs no introductions so he thankfully keeps his mouth shut for the moment, as Jin Guangyao had instructed.

Jin Guangyao tamps down the sudden and violent urge to remind her that he’s not his father, but all he does is force his lips into a polite smile as he reminds her, “Then you should not have sought shelter in Shanghai, which is owned and run by the Jin family.”

“Oh believe me, I am aware of how the Jins run this shatterdome.”

“Jie,” Wen Qionglin interjects, soft and unsure behind his sister’s shoulder. Jin Guangyao spares the man a glance before refocusing on Wen Qing’s arrogant glare. “We came to ask them for help-”

“Not the Jins,” she reiterates, venomous. “We don’t need any more of their help, they’ve done enough.”

“Wen Qing,” Wei Wuxian speaks up and Jin Guangyao suppresses a sigh. It’s such a shame that Wei Wuxian’s penchant for doing or saying whatever he wants at any given moment is both his greatest strength as well as one of the most frustrating things about him. He can’t remind the man that he’s meant to be here as a silent accessory in front of their guests, so he just has to grit his teeth and let him talk. “I know you have every reason to hate Jin Guangshan and his family, but Jin Guangyao isn’t like the rest of them. He’ll hear you out, just tell him.”

Jin Guangyao glances sideways at Wei Wuxian and wonders if the man already knows what this is about and has been keeping conveniently silent on it this entire time. Jin Guangyao had figured he would know if anyone from inside the shatterdome was contacting anyone in Tokyo, but if anyone is able to do it without being detected right away it’s Wei Wuxian with all his damn inventions and hatred for rules.

He’s going to allow himself to continue to be irritated by the way Wei Wuxian insists on always playing the wildcard rather than strangely touched by the man vouching for him.

“Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang suddenly muses, waving his fan slowly in front of his mouth. He still hasn’t shown his full face to the Wen siblings and Jin Guangyao watches their eyes snap to him immediately, suspicion plain on Wen Qing’s face and confusion on her brother’s. “The timing of this visit is interesting, don’t you think? Jin Guangshan last visited Tokyo to finalize the trade negotiations for you guys and the Lans less than three months ago, why are your friends only coming here for help now on the day of a brand new kind of Kaiju battle? Why not come here with you in the first place, or reach out in the weeks since you arrived?”

“I invite Nie-gongzi to attempt to free himself of the attention of men like Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan on your own convenient timetable and then ask that question again,” Wen Qing says, as icily polite as Jin Guangyao at his most ruthless.

Time to get things back on track before hidden weapons are drawn. (He has no doubt that everyone in this room is secretly armed, but he’s not eager to find out for sure.)

“It seems a bit counterintuitive to have gone to all that effort only to get here and be unwilling to share whatever it is that’s so important,” Jin Guangyao muses. “A-Sang is right in that your timing seems too impeccable to be coincidence. Wei Wuxian is also correct - I am not like my father. I have no interest in money, and I have the privilege of being one of the very few people who have Chifeng-zun’s ear. If there’s something you need help with so desperately you were willing to sail straight into a Kaiju invasion, then he’ll be the best person to attempt to assist you. He’s indisposed at the moment preparing for the press, so he sent me here to figure out what we can do to help.

“So. Wen Qing, Wen Qionglin. What can Shanghai do for you?”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t let any of his impatience creep into his expression as he watches the Wen siblings have some sort of silent communication, nor does he let his mask slip when they turn to look at Wei Wuxian beside him and seemingly have another silent conversation again. His patience is rewarded after a heavy pause when Wen Qing sighs and puts her hand into her pocket. Jin Guangyao’s fingers twitch ever so slightly for the knife in his waistband but at the last moment he manages to turn the gesture into a little tug on the hem of his jacket when Wen Qing only produces a battered old external hard drive from the depths of her pocket.

“These are all of Wei Wuxian’s notes that he’s ever taken, including scans of anything he physically wrote on paper. Weapon schematics, experiment records, Jaeger upgrades, communications inventions..and Kaiju research.” She reaches into her pocket again and withdraws a much newer, sleeker storage device of the sort that’s more compatible with the top-of-the-line equipment Jin Guangyao knows is everywhere in the Tokyo ‘dome. “These are the records of Xue Yang’s attempts to expand on Wei Wuxian’s research. He’s been working on Kaijus for my uncle, and it’s his fault that they’re coming faster. The explanation as to why and how is all in here.”

Jin Guangyao can’t help but stare at the devices in her palms, well aware that both of them together are the sorts of things that can change the course of the war for everyone - in one hand for the better, in the other hand for the worse. It’s no question which one Wen Ruohan values more, but both are a treasure in and of themselves. One the work of an eccentric genius, the other the work of a raving lunatic capable of creativity and ruthlessness most people could never dream of.

Through his shock he manages to dredge up the only truly important question he can think of. “What are you asking for in exchange?”

“Safety from Wen Ruohan for myself and A-Ning, and my extended family’s protection as well, Wei Wuxian already knows where they are and what we need. Just keep them safe from Wen Ruohan for me and you can have all of it.”

Despite how simple such a request sounds, Jin Guangyao is sure that if Wen Qing went to so much trouble (and personal danger) to both escape Tokyo and ensure that she had such good bargaining chips once she arrived in Shanghai, then what she’s asking for isn’t going to be straightforward. Protecting her from Wen Ruohan wouldn’t be simple even on its own, but with everything else that seems to be compounding the issue it might turn out to be nigh on impossible. Still - he needs what she has to win the war and to understand what’s happening. If he can give those keys to Nie Mingjue then he’s sure his partner will do whatever he can to hold up their end of the bargain. After all, he’s the one always ranting and raving that he’s trying to save humanity, not get caught up in petty politicking at the literal end of the world.

It’s really not much of a decision in the end.

“You have my word - and by extension Nie Mingjue’s - that we’ll do everything we can to meet your request. This room is secure, and I’ll put people you can trust to guard it until I’ve talked to my father to ensure he won’t inform Wen Ruohan of your whereabouts. The arrangements for the rest of your family will be first priority after we’ve soothed the press from this latest fight. Is that acceptable to you?”

It’ll have to be - it’s not as if they’ve left themselves with many options. Still, Jin Guangyao doesn’t think it’s a good idea to remind her of that by assuming her acceptance of his offer is guaranteed. Better instead to make her feel as safe as possible when it’s clear that she doesn’t trust anyone that isn’t her brother except, maybe, Wei Wuxian.

“Wait! I have a condition,” Wei Wuxian suddenly pipes up and Jin Guangyao rounds on him, eyes wide and smile pinned very carefully in place.

“You are not one of the bargaining parties, Wei Wuxian.”

“Hey - that’s my life’s work in her hand you know! If you’re going to use it I want to be involved, and I don’t want Jin Guangshan to know we’ve got it.”

Jin Guangyao barely refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose and reminds himself that thankfully at least Nie Huaisang is being quiet and well-behaved even if no one else is willing to be. Well, he amends, Wen Qionglin is also pretty quiet, but from what he remembers of the man from his brief stint in Tokyo that’s very much par for the course anyway.

“I am beginning to feel a bit insulted that everyone seems to forget that I know better than anyone just how cruel my father can be,” he says a little too crisply, at the end of his patience though his smile is still plastered on his face. “I am well aware of what this information would be used for in his hands - I believe that is how we are in this predicament in the first place considering Xue Yang theoretically answers to him and not to Wen Ruohan, if that madman answers to anybody at all. How often must I prove my loyalty to Nie Mingjue before people will recall that I am not my father’s lackey?”

“We just have to make sure-”

“Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang suddenly says, low and quiet. “Trust him, and don’t imply what I think you’re implying.”

“We accept. You can have these in exchange for providing our safety to the best of your ability,” Wen Qing cuts in before Wei Wuxian can respond. Jin Guangyao can unfortunately empathize with the determination and resignation in her expression, but he doesn’t bother attempting to reassure her any further that he’s not the man he’d been in Tokyo under Wen Ruohan – nor is he what anyone would expect him to be after having been legitimized by his father and, ostensibly, promoted (in truth, of course, his position had been given to him by Nie Mingjue and nobody else).

“Wonderful. Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang follows his wave in their direction to step forward and finally drop his fan from in front of his face to smile in that artificially disarming way of his, gullible and nervous as he takes the harddrives from Wen Qing’s outstretched palms.

“Wei Wuxian, I assume you’d like to be the one to keep an eye out for them this evening?” Jin Guangyao asks next and is unsurprised when Wei Wuxian just shoots him a suspicious look and nods. “As I suspected. I’ll have food for all of you sent down and inform Lan Wangji of your plans.” It’s safe to assume that wherever Wei Wuxian finds himself is where Lan Wangji will want to be as well, which will leave the Wen siblings with better protection than anyone else in the shatterdome would be willing or able to provide, so that’s thankfully at least one problem solved rather neatly, at least for now.

Jin Guangyao forces one more smile and a little half-bow towards the Wen siblings and then retreats with Nie Huaisang on his heels to head straight for the labs.

“Get me everything off those drives as soon as possible,” he instructs. “Give A-Yu whatever is there that pertains to Kaijus, including the reports on Xue Yang’s experiments no matter how deranged or incomprehensible they seem.”

“I really thought he’d followed Xiao Xingchen to the States,” Nie Huaisang pouts; considering how dead-on his intelligence usually is it’s unsurprising to hear him so unhappy about having apparently been misinformed. “If I’d known he was in Tokyo I would’ve dragged him back here a lot sooner.”

“He doesn’t have to be in Tokyo to have been doing work for Wen Ruohan, he may very well be in the States killing two birds with one stone. Though knowing him it’s likely he’s killing far more than that.”

“You’re probably right. But anyway - Hard drives. Got it. What are you going to go do?”

“I am going to go see my father. Jin ZIxun has likely already run to him to tell him about the Wen siblings’ arrival, I’ll need to spin it in such a way that he’ll be eager to keep their presence a secret for now. If by some miracle Jin Zixun hasn’t told him yet then all the better, more brownie points to me for informing him first.”

“Ugh.”

“My sentiments exactly. Listen -” Jin Guangyao stops and Nie Huaisang turns to face him, curious. The vulnerability of expressing genuine gratitude isn’t something he allows very often, but it’s been quite a day already and he can’t help but feel deep in his gut that things are about to change drastically - for better or for worse he has no way of knowing. He takes a deep breath in and forces himself to meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes. “Thank you for defending me. I understand why the others are skeptical of me, but it gets old after everything that’s happened-”

“You don’t have to do this,” Nie Huaisang hurries to wave him off. “Really, A-Yao, it’s the least I can do. I know you’re on our side, no matter what happens. Okay?”

Jin Guangyao can’t help but sigh - mostly in relief - and nod. “Yes, fine. I have a favor to ask, then.”

“Sure.”

He can’t help but glance around once though he knows they’re as alone as they can be. He gestures towards the battered black harddrive in Nie Huaisang’s hand and feels a little thrill when he says, “Do you think you can use Wei Wuxian’s notes to alter the simulator to accommodate three? Mingjue’s temper is getting away from him again, and I know he wants to Drift with me and Xichen anyway. We could get in Lotus Spider for it but I’d like to keep it quiet if we can.”

“I’ll work on it,” Nie Huaisang promises easily - it’s highly likely that he’s already been working on it, though of course Jin Guangyao knows he’d never admit to actually doing anything much at all, especially not something useful. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready to go, and I’ll keep you updated on what A-Yu finds in all of this.”

Jin Gunagyao nods and then he’s alone in the hallway as Nie Huaisang turns to go; his and Mo Xuanyu’s task lists are as long as Jin Guangyao’s these days, and though he feels a bit guilty about it - despite how often he hounds them about their sleep schedules he knows that they don’t have sleep schedules because of everything he asks them to do - he can’t let up. Not now.

With a mental wrench in the right direction, he turns his steps towards Jin Guangshan’s office. From what he’s been able to glean since their last ‘meeting’, his father had been too drunk at the time to remember Jin Guangyao punching him in the throat, which he supposes is all for the better considering the man, unfortunately, hadn’t died from it. Still - having done it once the temptation to do it again is staggering, especially now when he’s been forced to deal with people assuming that he’s secretly operating under the man’s orders and for his benefit. Of course they don’t know everything that Jin Guangshan has put him through - nor would he ever want these strangers to know his deepest shame - but it does rub him very much the wrong way after everything.

Still. He’d promised Wen Qing her safety, and the only way to gain enough of her trust for her to help them win this war is going to be keeping his promises. As much as he’d like to delay the inevitable, he forces himself to his father’s door to give his report and pretend, for now at least, that he intends to take advantage of the Wens to help his father stick it to Wen Ruohan and become the top of the food chain.

-/-

“Yesterday afternoon at 2:38pm Shanghai Shatterdome successfully fought and defeated the latest Category 4 Kaiju to come through the Breach. All five pilots who engaged with the Kaiju are no worse for wear and will be given ample time to rest and recover before they are expected to deploy again, and they thank the public for their constant concern and care for their wellbeing. The Jiang siblings in particular wish to express their gratitude for the support of the citizens of Tokyo who have stood behind them for so long and continue to do so now that they are stationed in Shanghai.

“At this time, Shanghai Shatterdome would like to officially address growing concerns as to the increasing frequency of Kaiju attacks. While this is a pattern that we cannot change, we are aware of it and are doing everything in our power to plan accordingly to keep you safe. Our dedicated research team is working around the clock to more accurately predict each Kaiju attack in order to better prepare ourselves and the people we protect in an attempt to minimize damages as much as humanly possible. We will share whatever pertinent information we have with the appropriate authorities whenever necessary to facilitate this vital work.

“In the weeks since their arrival, it’s clear that the successful acquisition of the Twin Jades of Gusu and the Heroes of Yunmeng was the stroke of good fortune needed to bolster our defenses against the Kaiju and continue keeping Shanghai safe despite this increasing volume of attacks. As of this moment we have no plans for further active duty pilot acquisitions, though we will naturally continue to recruit and train prospective pilots for the Jaeger program until further notice.

“Finally, I will address the concerns raised about sending out two Jaeger teams for this latest fight. There is no need to be alarmed by the extra deployment - a civilian vessel was spotted in the Kaiju’s path despite advanced warning to clear the water well before we expected the Kaiju to attack. When the civilians’ radio proved unreachable, Golden Thunder deployed to rescue the vessel and agreed to continue to provide backup for Lotus Spider through the end of the battle. The civilians that were on board the vessel are unharmed. It’s thanks to the Tokyo acquisition that we have the extra manpower to continue placing Shanghai citizens first and ensuring your safety.

“I will now be taking questions from the press - no more than five.”

Lan Xichen shuts the monitor off with a sigh and turns his head to see his partners have stripped down to just their trousers and sprawled out on their stomachs, Nie Mingjue flat on the bed with Jin Guangyao starfished on top of him, their arms overlapped and fingers knotted together on either side of Nie Mingjue’s head. A smile creeps across Lan Xichen’s lips at the sight; he’d be wildly tempted to join them were he not certain that Jin Guangyao would not appreciate being squashed, and the only place he might conceivably fit would be on top of the tumbled pile they make.

“It’s incredible that Jin Guangshan actually says what you write for the press, Mingjue,” he muses instead and gets a humorless grunt in response.

“He knows I’m the real reason he’s richer than god even if he won’t ever admit it. Don’t worry, he’ll be smarmy enough to ruin it all when he goes off-script for questions,” his partner huffs, slightly muffled where his face is smushed into his pillow. “He’ll probably talk about how getting you guys from Tokyo was all his idea, how he’s the single person most dedicated to saving lives out of the entire ‘dome, how he’s personally keeping a close eye on the research team’s progress...whatever he can do to make himself sound good while also undercutting anything and everything A-Yao is doing.”

“Charming that you’re assuming he thinks of me enough to actively attempt to snub me live on national television rather than just basking in the spotlight.”

Nie Mingjue grunts again at that and then flails a hand behind his hip to swat at Jin Guangyao’s. “Get off me, go sit on Xichen.”

Jin Guangyao sighs and does an excellent job of seeming remarkably put out as he sits up with a groan and stretches his arms over his head, still straddling Nie Mingjue’s lower back. Lan Xichen sits up a little straighter when he turns his head to glance at him over his shoulder and he’s pleased to see a mischievous little glint in his eye as he smiles sweetly.

“I’m not your weighted blanket to be thrown off whenever you grow tired of me, you know,” he sniffs down at Nie Mingjue’s back. “And maybe I would like to be held down every once in a while.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t necessarily snort at that, but he does make a…mildly rude noise of disbelief behind his smile as Nie Mingjue outright barks a laugh that he muffles in his pillow.

“You actually want to be pinned down once every six months if we’re lucky. And I’m not using you as a weighted blanket, Xichen and I are keeping you contained so you don’t murder Jin Guangshan on live national television. Now go sit on Xichen, my neck’s starting to ache.”

Jin Guangyao gets gracefully to his feet this time and takes the few steps necessary to cross the entirety of the room to where Lan Xichen is sitting in lotus position on the nearly-flat cushion he uses for meditation. He bundles his partner close happily when he plops down into his lap, and though yes they’re keeping Jin Guangyao held and occupied so he won’t be tempted to run off and murder his father, Lan Xichen can’t deny that it’s also comforting to him to be able to hold Jin Guangyao close like this at the end of such a long day, simply because he wants to.

Excitement - particularly that born from adrenaline - isn’t particularly sustainable when everyone has much more immediate things to worry about, and so despite the alarming changes to their understanding of the Kaiju coming through now, life in the shatterdome settles back into its usual irregular rhythms quickly enough.

Lan Xichen returns to his routine of sparring and exercising when not otherwise needed by either of his partners - who have more than enough duties of their own every day that he dares not interrupt unless invited to do so. There’s a new sort of…grim determination to the pilots’ sparring now, and Lan Xichen finds himself feeling much the same despite his perpetually optimistic outlook. It’s difficult not to feel grim whenever he faces off against his friends and is forced to confront the fact that the next time he has to adjust himself to their fighting style it might be because a Kaiju has bastardized it as a targeted weapon against them. Specifically.

When he isn’t sparring, he helps however he can in the research labs. Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu - typically indolent and thoroughly unprofessional if still highly qualified - seem to be sharing the pilots’ attitude. They’ve begun their new respective tasks in earnest, and Lan Xichen learns quickly that he isn’t the only pilot determined to help them.

“Run the last 47 seconds of that clip again for me, a bit slower.” Wei Wuxian’s voice, all business, reaches him just before he rounds the corner into the lab just over a week after the last Kaiju appearance. The next Kaiju should, if all goes as Mo Xuanyu has predicted, head for somewhere other than Shanghai - and shouldn’t come through the breach for another couple of weeks anyway no matter where it chooses to go once through. In the interim, it doesn’t surprise him at all that Wei Wuxian has elected to help with research.

“Xiongzhang.” The familiar soft greeting comes the moment he rounds the corner into the lab properly.

“Hello didi.” Lan Wangji is standing near enough to where Wei Wuxian is camped out at Mo Xuanyu’s workspace to be of use should he be needed, but far enough away that Mo Xuanyu is in no danger of being spattered with the various brightly-colored fluids and viscera staining nearly every available surface, including Wei Wuxian’s gesturing hands. “Any news?”

“Wei Ying and I have been asked to make an appearance in Immortal Mountain.”

“Oh?” Lan Xichen blinks in surprise and knows immediately that that can’t possibly have been Nie Mingjue’s idea. First of all because Lan Xichen would have heard about it well before the decision was made and communicated to his brother and his partner. Second of all because Nie Mingjue has been adamantly keeping it quiet from the media that they’ve been experimenting with blended teams in the first place. Deploying a Jaeger outside of a Kaiju attack or a rebuild effort is already strange enough and a massive waste of resources, but to send out a blended partnership - one that’s been formed by two of the most popular pilots in Asia and therefore making it known in the process that they’ve (potentially) broken up two of the most popular teams? A decision guaranteed to be so wildly unpopular across the majority of Asia reeks of Jin Guangshan’s heavy-handed meddling.

“Mn. We will do it next week.”

“It’s a blatant publicity stunt,” Wen Qing pipes up from where she’s up to her elbows in a segment of what must have once been an enormous Kaiju organ Lan Xichen cannot for the life of him identify, this one dripping an alarmingly radioactive green fluid of some sorts in long, mucus-y strings. “It seems like he’s hoping to distract everyone from the fact that we don’t have any new Kaiju information to share like he promised in that damn press conference last week.”

Lan Xichen hums and shares a long-suffering look with his brother that needs no words exchanged. He’d learned the morning after that night that Nie Mingjue had been absolutely correct - Jin Guangshan had promised so many outlandish things when allowed to go off-script for the live questions that the backlash of not being able to live up to any of them is going to reflect poorly on the shatterdome and its inhabitants, who will be left appearing incompetent after all of Jin Guangshan’s posturing and utterly false bravado.

“Well we could tell the press the truth. It’s as much of an update as we’ve got and it does go quite a ways towards explaining what’s happening, with the added bonus of smearing Wen Ruohan’s name through some nice juicy Kaiju blood - Ah! Hey, zoom in on that uh…leg..appendage…thing would you?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji admonishes, clearly distressed at least to Lan Xichen and, no doubt, to Wei Wuxian still bent over Mo Xuanyu (who looks ready to pass out from happiness) and squinting at his screen, hands held carefully away from dripping on the keyboard.

“I agree with Wangji,” Lan Xichen opines, garnering a couple of confused glances from those in the room who don’t realize how much meaning can be packed into Lan Wangji saying nothing more than his boyfriend’s name. “Any potential damage that may be done to Wen Ruohan’s image in the public eye will not only be minimally effective, but will also drag Wei Wuxian through the mud with him considering the fact that your work is the inspiration for what he’s done behind everyone’s backs. It is an unnecessary sacrifice to gain very little, if anything is to be gained at all.”

“And if it gets out later that we knew all along but kept it secret?” Nie Huaisang asks from behind his lazily waving fan, leaning back in his seat so he is, for once, not hunched over with his nose two inches from his bank of monitors. He looks exhausted but Lan Xichen now knows better than to encourage him to go rest, as the only ones capable of actually getting him to agree are Nie Mingjue and, surprisingly, Jiang Wanyin. “Then we’re all in deep shit as accomplices and scrambling to cover our asses, and aren’t you Lans morally opposed to lying anyway?”

“There is no moral high ground to be found in sharing unnecessary, damning information with masses of people who are both frightened for their lives as well as determined to misunderstand anything that is not cut and dry for them to easily digest. I see no reason to make martyrs of ourselves when the greater good will be accomplished more easily without an active smear campaign against everyone involved in this process.”

Lan Xichen blinks as everyone save Lan Wangji in the room stops what they’re doing to turn and stare at him, even Wei Wuxian who has known and worked with him for more than long enough to know that there are always to get around any rule that can be loosely interpreted in any conceivable way - ways that neither he nor Lan Wangji have scruples about using if necessary.

Their ongoing surprised silence compels him to add, “I also believe Wei Wuxian’s name has been through enough public criticism without association with Xue Yang, Wen Ruohan, and highly dubious experiments with Kaiju research further tarnishing his reputation that has only recently made a full recovery…Particularly so if Jin Guangshan is about to make it clear that we have split up our teams to create a new pair for Immortal Mountain, which could be seen as unnecessarily reckless when in the midst of so much uncertainty in relation to the Kaiju attacks.”

More shocked silence, and Lan Xichen finds that he’s actually quite uncomfortable with being studied so closely, particularly by the two in the room (who may as well be coined mad scientists) who are wielding wickedly long and sharp dissection tools.

“Xiongzhang is correct on both counts,” Lan Wangji saves him smoothly and pairs it with nothing more than a slow nod, though with his bearing that’s more than enough to make sure his approval lands as solidly as it should.

“...Need to know basis only..got it,” Nie Huaisang says a little weakly. “I had no idea you two were so…crafty.”

Lan Xichen offers the man an enigmatic smile that he finds usually works wonders to make people (usually nosy reporters) just a little uncomfortable. “We were well taught. Now - I see everyone is quite busy this morning. Is there anything I can do to assist?”

“Xuanyu already has help, you and Wangji-xiong come over here to help me with weapons, da-ge’s been breathing down my neck to get something worth showing him done.”

Lan Xichen nods and begins picking his way around the Kaiju mess taking up the front half of the lab to squeeze through to Nie Huaisang’s workstation, littered now with more instant noodle cups than ever before and reeking of coffee and the battery acid tickle of empty or half-empty cans of energy drinks on every flat surface.

“Huaisang,” he chastises softly, concerned, but as expected the man just waves him off with his fan.

“I know. I’ll rest soon, I promise, just don’t tell da-ge. Now - tell me your weaknesses. If you were going to fight you, what weapon would you use? What style? I know the Jiangs just fought a Kaiju using your style so they might not send another one through so soon that fights like you, but if they do I want whoever goes out there to be prepared.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and settles into the chair beside Nie Huaisang that’s typically occupied by Jiang Wanyin, Lan Wangji standing tall and straight at his side as they do their best to help, as they always do.

Later, when Nie Huaisang has picked their brains for every bit of information they can think to give him, after Mo Xuanyu, Wei Wuxian, and Wen Qing have finished their dissections of organs and film reels of past battles and retreated out of the lab to go about other business (and Lan Wangji had followed on his boyfriend’s heels to leave Lan Xichen alone with Nie Huaisang), his friend turns to him with a slightly mischievous glint in his tired eyes.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, which is not exactly comforting all things considered, but Lan Xichen is prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’ve also been getting Wei-xiong’s help tweaking the simulator, and I think we’ll have it done soon. Do you genuinely want to try Drifting with da-ge and Yao-ge together?”

Lan Xichen’s breath catches around a lance of pure want somewhere between a couple of his ribs and he finds he can only nod.

“It’ll be a little while longer, and I don’t think da-ge will let me experiment on you guys to start with so we’ll have to take a little longer to make sure we’re completely confident it’ll work without frying your brains for good but-”

“Is that not already the main goal?” Lan Xichen can’t help but ask, equal parts amused and alarmed.

“Oh well sure, but the easiest way to test it out would be to stick someone in it and see what happens then adjust accordingly. But we won’t do that! I promise not to fry your brain in the pursuit of science.”

“...Thank you,” Lan Xichen finally settles on, for lack of anything better.

“You’re welcome! That was all I had to say for now, if you want to go back to your boyfriends for the evening,” Nie Huaisang chirps, turning back to his computers now full of a day’s worth of information from both him and Lan Wangji pasted onto various documents and tables that are incomprehensible to Lan Xichen, though he assumes not to Nie Huaisang.

“Ah. Yes, alright.”

Lan Xichen does just that with no small amount of bemusement and anticipation curling happily in his chest. Drifting with Jin Guangyao hadn’t exactly been the most comfortable feeling in the world, considering it had involved such an overwhelming amount of soul-baring and vulnerability on his part, even with their Drift ultimately left unfinished. But it had still been fulfilling and wonderful in its own right, and he can only imagine that a successful Drift between himself and his partners will feel as incredible as anything else with them has been so far, if not even better.

He continues to help Nie Huaisang with his projects over the following days, though the day after Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s exhibition run in Immortal Mountain sees him tied up in so many press conferences his face hurts from smiling for so many hours and his voice is thoroughly shot for the next two days after that.

Still, it’s a surprisingly nice reprieve, all this work in the lab. Lan Xichen has never resented his career as a pilot, but he was never meant to be this sort of person. He wasn’t born to fight for his life like Nie Mingjue was, nor to work himself to the bone to satisfy his cutthroat ambitions like Jin Guangyao. Lan Xichen likes to think that he was really made for more scholarly pursuits, for research and music and gently steering his family’s temple in the same direction it’s been going since antiquity. None of this is how he’d ever expected his life to go, but he supposes that’s true of everyone in the world. No one could have ever predicted this, but Lan Xichen is determined to make the best of it.

A week and a half later finds him standing in front of the simulator setup feeling much less confident that the best can be made of the situation. It would be generous to claim that the whole rig looks ready to fall apart at any moment, considering the sheer amount of it that’s literally held together with duct tape and honest-to-god string, but Wei Wuxian gestures to it so proudly that Lan Xichen holds his tongue. (It’s far more surprising that both of his partners do as well.)

“Ta-da!!” Wei Wuxian adds, as if his double armed gesture at the setup wasn’t grand enough. “Chifeng-Zun asked, so Nie-xiong and I delivered. Three-way Drift simulator, locked, loaded, and ready to go. I outfitted it with new sensors to detect anything amiss well before it becomes a ‘someone’s bleeding from every orifice, oh god they’re dying!’ kind of problem, and Nie-xiong told me you maybe might want a way to lighten the neural load so I did that too, just in case. I mean who doesn’t want a lighter load, am I right? Well. In this very specific context, not necessarily in other contexts-”

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen cuts into his babbling with a smile. “I believe by now we are all uncomfortably aware of your opinions on the volume of other types of loads. Might I request we continue talking strictly about the simulator?”

Wei Wuxian has the decency to turn bright red as Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao both snort at Lan Xichen’s shamelessness (that nobody but them realizes he possesses when convenient), and he turns around to start fiddling with some of the wires running from the contraption to Nie Huaisang’s computer bank.

“Right! Okay!! Loud and clear, Xichen-ge, got it! So anyway the issue with trying to Drift with Chifeng-Zun is naturally the whole driven-to-insanity-by-extreme-trauma thing, which I actually understand better than you’d expect so I already had to accommodate for it in Lotus Spider’s rig too, and no I will not be elaborating on that. And the issue with Jin Guangyao is that his brain is wired to take on any and all trauma, internalize it, and then just like. Never let go of it? He remembers everything, which is useful for names and fun facts like scary amounts of totally innocuous data spanning literally his entire life, but not so good when your brain should be desperately trying to forget the fact that your boyfriend’s father died while connected to him as closely as humans have ever managed for the sake of your own survival, and you’ve now had to live through that as well through his memories.”

“Get to the point, Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue grunts beside him, though Lan Xichen knows from personal experience that there’s really no use in rushing him, nor in trying to intimidate him as it just rolls right off him like you never said a word.

“Just a couple more minutes Chifeng-Zun! The issue with Drifting with Xichen-ge is a little bit more complex, but I had an idea that Lan Zhan was so kind as to help me flesh out in our own Drift. Since I haven’t actually seen Xichen-ge’s memories because he and Lan Zhan don’t share them in the Drift I only had Lan Zhan’s to go off of, but the problem with you two is that you were forced and expected to pretend like you don’t feel anything for your entire lives, and so when you do feel something fully it’s ridiculously intense, to the point of…well, neural overload. For example, Lan Zhan doesn’t just love me, he’s obsessed with me, and has to take extra care to be like…chill and healthy about that as much as possible. And I’m willing to bet a month’s worth of rations that Xichen-ge feels the same for you two but is just keeping it nice and tightly under wraps like any good, obedient, repressed Lan boy is supposed to do.”

Lan Xichen, thoroughly uncomfortable with being so easily called out for what he feels is his most shameful trait, simply clears his throat and refuses to offer a comment one way or another (which he supposes is damning enough in the end). It hardly matters anyway considering his partners are about to feel it in his head, but that doesn’t mean Wei Wuxian has to say it.

“Get to the point, Wuxian!” Nie Mingjue snaps, his patience clearly wearing thin for Wei Wuxian’s usual habit of monologuing his (admittedly brilliant) thought processes, though naturally Lan Xichen is well used to it by now.

“Aiyah, fine! You’re all extremely intense in slightly different ways is what I’m getting at, so all you needed was a damper - and yes, a three-way Drift for that extra bit of stability - to be able to handle each other. Which means you should all be good to go for a full, true Drift today, and after this you’ll be fully linked and able to pilot a Jaeger, so long as it’s been modded to accommodate you like Lotus Spider is for me.”

“Just like that?” Jin Guangyao pipes up, clearly suspicious, but Wei Wuxian just smiles and offers a little half bow.

“Just like that. You’ve already fully Drifted with Chifeng-Zun anyway, so this really only needed to be added for Xichen-ge, and for you guys to be able to last longer than five minutes without burning each other to a crisp. I’m not saying it’s an easy fix because obviously I’ve spent a lot of time working on how to do this, but it’s a relatively simple fix for someone who knows how it feels from the inside and how to force the technology gods to be nice to me.”

“Ready to try?” Nie Huaisang pipes up from behind his computer. Lan Xichen shares a glance with his partners that only lasts for a moment, but he knows they’re all thinking the same thing. It can’t possibly end worse than their previous experiments that have been dubiously successful at best, and so of course it’s worth a shot if it means they can really have this.

Lan Xichen offers Wei Wuxian a smile and a little bow of his own. “This one thanks Wei-gongzi for all his hard work and care,” he says, the formal thank you immediately making Wei Wuxian visibly uncomfortable just as he’d intended in the interest of cutting off any further monologuing at the knees.

“Aiyah, stop it with that, you damn Lans and your sincerity! Just go sit down so we can get you rigged up and start the Drift.”

“You’re lucky you’re a genius, Wei Wuxian.”

“Don’t I know it,” Wei Wuxian laughs off Nie Mingjue’s irritated grumbling as the three of them do as they’ve been told and get settled into the creaking old office chairs surrounded on three sides by scraps of hardware both new and old, loops upon loops of wires connecting everything together in a tangled, confusing mass that Lan Xichen isn’t sure can ever be untangled again. It’s certainly not the most comforting thing he’s ever seen, but his partners are right there with him so he supposes it could be much worse.

Lan Xichen sits obediently still as Wei Wuxian, Mo Xuanyu, and Nie Huaisang move around them all to get them set up, and then the three researchers have retreated behind the computers to monitor the Drift.

Nie Huaisang’s voice is only a little tremulous with nerves as he says, “Drift commencing in 5, 4, 3, 2…1.”

-/-

Neural interface Drift : Initiated

Nie Mingjue takes a deep, steadying breath in before he opens his eyes, unsure of where he’ll find himself but prepared for the worst like the first time he’d Drifted with Jin Guangyao. He’s relieved to find that they haven’t sunk straight into memories, but are instead standing in the nowhere nothingness of the Drift. Lan Xichen’s gaze is already warm and soft on him when Nie Mingjue meets his eyes first, and then he glances past him to Jin Guangyao going through the lightning-quick routine of schooling his features into his usual neutral mask that he can never quite seem to give up, even here. It’s enough anyway that he lets Nie Mingue see him do it at all, a privilege which he apparently isn’t ready to extend to Lan Xichen as well, seeing as he’s shown up behind their partner.

‘Feels stable enough for now,’ Nie Mingjue remarks, slightly wary. ‘A-Yao?’

‘We won’t know for sure until we go into your memories or Huan-ge’s,’ his partner reminds him, not unkindly. He knows, of course, how much Nie Mingjue despises hurting him and just how far he’ll go not to do it again after everything they’ve been through, just as Nie Mingjue unfortunately knows that the only way to be sure this will work is to..potentially hurt his partner. Or perhaps hurt both of them. It’s a possibility despite Wei Wuxian’s emphatic reassurances over the last week that the balance between three is completely different from two, and Nie Mingjue is less than thrilled about it. Haven’t his partners been through enough without adding his trauma to it?

‘Stop, Mingjue,’ Lan Xichen murmurs, stepping forward to tuck himself right into his chest as easy as breathing, cheek resting on his shoulder. ‘You’re even worse at hiding your emotions in here than out there, I can see how much you’re worrying. We will be fine, the others won’t let anything happen to us.’

‘As far as peanut galleries go I suppose we do have the most skilled one in the world for this little experiment,’ Jin Guangyao sighs as if put out, and Nie Mingjue’s worry fractures a little around his fond amusement for Jin Guangyao’s ‘disdain’ that’s clearly just for show. He slings one arm around Lan Xichen’s waist and kisses his cheek absently, the affection perfectly natural here, like this, where it truly is just the three of them alone in a way they can never really be in the crowded shatterdome. ‘Why don’t we start with you, ge?’ Jin Guangyao prompts. ‘Purely selfish on my part, I’ve missed being in your head.’

Nie Mingjue tamps down the urge to sigh - and to worry more - in favor of the much more preferable prospect of giving Jin Guangyao whatever he wants. He reaches out to snag his partner by the hand and reel him in closer for a quick kiss, and then he tugs both of his partners down with him into his memories.

“MENG YAO!!”

Nie Mingjue’s throat burns with the ragged shout, horror clawing its desperate way up alongside the acrid burn of bile. Meng Yao turns wide, terrified eyes on him, quick as a flickering bulb between an utterly foreign self-satisfied smirk and the doe-eyed innocence Nie Mingjue is used to - loves so much. Meng Yao’s familiar, beloved, sweetheart face is streaked with a spurt of blood from the chest he’d just split in half with an ancient heirloom blade, and Nie Mingjue’s own blood chills in his veins as he knows - knows - that had he not just seen it with his own eyes he would never believe his lover capable of such cold violence.

He doesn’t shy away from the memory, per se, but he doesn’t linger either. With a mental wrench he drags things forward, skimming through Nie Huaisang’s tearful fretting over it all, through Meng Yao’s tearful pleas to be allowed to stay, to be understood. Through his own refusal to hear him or even look at him as he sends him away. As always, if they want to see Meng Yao’s departure from the Nie ancestral fortress it’ll have to be through his memories rather than Nie Mingjue’s - his own are too full of tears and betrayal for the image to be clear.

He skips idly past the grinding misery of his life after that, the way he’d hurtled himself full force into the war at his father’s side as he hadn’t in the entirety of their career to that point. He passes entirely over the loss of Lao Nie without a second thought, unwilling now to relive it when he knows that Lan Xichen has already seen it. They don’t need to experience that nightmare again, and he likes to remember Nie Fengyi very differently than in those precious last minutes, battle-crazed and pumping with adrenaline that had saved Nie Mingjue’s life in the moment but would serve no purpose to feel again now.

His memories quickly become fractured, then. Broken and jagged, bleeding along the corners, too sharp, too loud, throbbing with confusion and pain that leaves him feeling miserably lost. Unmoored. Misunderstood. There are doctors’ needles and the blackening haze of drugs and, through all of it, rage. Fear. The iron tang of blood in his nose and his mouth, inescapable and ever-present no matter what he eats or drinks. He slips along the edges of it now, feet still unsteady and balance precarious, ready to tip him back into the roiling thick of it without a moment’s notice -

‘That’s enough of that, ge,’ Meng Yao’s voice cuts through the tangled gore of his madness and for a long moment Nie Mingjue can’t tell if it’s in the present or the past. He blinks the red film away from his eyes and finds himself standing in the pale of the Drift again for a split second, eyes locked on Jin Guangyao’s, before they’re sucked under again.

With the return of his sanity - thanks to Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang - there comes a second life. A chance to try again, and to make things right. He’s weaker than before, prone to pain and mood swings stronger than he ever faced before Lao Nie’s death. Early on there had been many times where he’d wished he’d just died instead. Had resented Jin Guangyao for saving him instead of letting him go. But Jin Guangyao had reminded him of everything good that he’d forgotten - not only about their relationship, but he’d also managed to sift down, down, down through all the layers of muddy waters to dredge up his nearly-forgotten childhood again.

The memories grow hazy and blurry around them, recovered as they are from beneath so many years of repression and damage, but they’re there. They’re second-hand, memories of memories, disjointed and rattling around the empty spaces of his mind like a palmful of coins, but he can dimly remember playing games with Huaisang, giving him gifts and trinkets to make him smile his gummy baby grin. Falling asleep to the adults talking in unintelligible murmurs over his nodding head. An auntie braiding his hair in the traditional family style before he’d cut his hair short as a young teenager, just before the war. Nie Fengyi grinning at him, happy and healthy and so enamored with being a father that he’d doted on his sons just as much as he’d scolded them and pushed them (well, Nie Mingjue) to train hard.

Jin Guangyao had come back at the last possible chance and had reminded him - against his will, though Nie Mingjue has nothing but gratitude for it now - that things had been good once, and they can be again. They just have to fight for it together.

When Nie Mingjue opens his eyes again he knows his part of this Drift is done - it’s everything that makes him who he is. The broken bits, the whole pieces, the duty that’s been passed onto him and the ways he’s been forced to heal enough to actually bear it. He’s all at once a child in his father’s lap watching old wuxia movies, a heartbroken teenager whose first love ended so explosively, a grief-mad adult barely hanging on, and a seasoned veteran, tired but determined to see this war, this life, through to the end.

‘Both of you stop it,’ he grumbles when he nearly chokes on the overwhelming echoes of hero-worship coming from both of his partners. He’s used to it from Jin Guangyao - and actually feels the exact same for him anyway - but it’s surprisingly difficult to stand when it’s doubled. He gives his entire body a shake and shrugs off the weight of their attention to focus on Jin Guangyao instead. ‘How do you feel?’

Jin Guangyao seems to consider it for a long moment before his gaze clears, his relief strong enough to be palpable through their (incomplete and therefore slightly muted) Drift. ‘Normal. I’m fine, but let’s finish this quickly, just in case something goes wrong.’

‘I believe that’s my cue, then. I confess I am still..unsure of what I should show you.’

Nie Mingjue frowns a little at that; he’s fairly sure that it shouldn’t really be a conscious decision, or at least not fully. It should just…be. A straightforward extension of his existence, rather than a choice he makes.

‘Kiss him,’ Jin Guangyao prompts with a smirk. ‘That’s how I did it.’

A flash of understanding passes between them, too quick and rooted in their understanding of each other to even count as a thought, and he smirks a little as he reels Lan Xichen in to kiss him, to drive him straight out of his head and right into the emotions he barely lets himself tap into properly.

“I have finished my studies for the day, Shufu,” Nie Mingjue says, head lowered just so, hands resting lightly on his bent knees. He is very careful not to let his fingers so much as twitch as he strives for perfection. The request if he could maybe..possibly…go play with Wangji until the evening meal is right there on the tip of his traitorous tongue, but thankfully his uncle speaks before Nie Mingjue can make such a ridiculous request.

“Good, Xichen. Come help me finish my work for the day, you’re old enough now to begin taking on some light duty under my supervision.”

Nie Mingjue takes the lumpy disappointment of that and balls it up nice and tiny in his hands to tuck it neatly away to be forgotten about. He’s the Heir to the family legacy and fortune after all, of course he’s got to learn how to handle it sooner rather than later, and it might as well be now. Wangji, at least, will have a chance at a childhood for another year or two before he’ll be instructed just like Nie Mingjue. But, he supposes with maybe a tiny little bit of bitterness and worry (which he also tucks away for later), that chance at a childhood is somewhat…wasted on his too-serious brother who seems to be thoroughly uninterested in anything at all that isn’t studying or practicing music for hours and hours on end.

Nie Mingjue stands and smooths steady hands down the front of his clothes to straighten out any possible wrinkle. Steps around the desk into the spot beside his uncle. Settles again on his knees, posture perfect and straight despite the yawning ache in his belly of something deeper than hunger - and he learns.

The scene drifts along placidly in a parade of sameness, days and months passing in heartbeats, the only significant changes being the occasional new flavor of tea in the cup at his elbow and the seasons slowly wheeling by outside the window. He spends every day like this - study, work, practice his martial arts, tend to Wangji who is still miserably silent. Winter settles in and Wangji develops a fever, and Nie Mingjue won’t ever ever ever say it out loud but a tiny part of him is…glad for the need to play nursemaid to his didi, if only because it offers something new to do for a week.

‘Oh Huan-ge,’ Jin Guangyao murmurs, low in his ear, and with a start Nie Mingjue is in his own mind again, standing between his partners as they watch little Lan Xichen mop his brother’s brow as Wangji refuses to look at anything but the ceiling with fever-glassy eyes. The loneliness of it hits him all at once now that he’s not actively participating in the memory, and he exhales slowly through it. Nie Mingjue knows that Lan Xichen loves his family even still, that he doesn’t see any of this as having been needlessly cruel to him but instead simply the way things had been, but Nie Mingjue can’t honestly say he agrees.

They reach the end of Lan Wangji’s fever and speed ahead through years - years - of the same fucking thing. Studying, though the subjects change and grow more mature and complex as Lan Xichen does. Working at Lan Qiren’s side to keep the family temple running smoothly up there on their mountain. There’s small comfort in the addition of Lan Wangji to the hours he spends working after a few years, and the return of Lan Wangji’s ability to speak a few years after that even though he’s even more miserly with his words than he is now, years later.

The iciness of it, even in the middle of remembered summers, settles around Nie Mingjue’s heart and into the bottoms of his lungs until he feels the strangest urge to shiver that he pushes away with a valiant effort; with the memory of Lao Nie’s arms around him, with the constant affection of extended family who had doted on him Nie Huaisang, with the grateful affection of his little brother who had never really seemed to forget how much Nie Mingjue did for him, no matter how spoiled he’d become in the years before war changed them all.

‘Mn. That feels good, A-Jue. It’s…warm,’ Lan Xichen murmurs, sounding mildly confused. Nie Mingjue glances at him to find him staring into the middle distance, some other identical memory playing out in front of them largely unheeded, though Nie Mingjue can tell from the current age of the Lan Xichen in the memory that they’re growing closer to the beginning of the war, which will mean upheaving this entire too-peaceful life.

The ghosts of Nie Mingjue’s memories of being loved and tended to are quickly joined by Jin Guangyao’s fondest memories of Meng Shi: warm mornings curled up with her in their shared bed, nights of reading and talking by soft lamplight before she’d had to go down to work, her fingers in his hair, the love she’d poured over him constantly like cupfuls of warm bathwater. Lan Xichen shivers between them and takes Nie Mingjue’s hand, gripping it so tightly there’s a bit of a phantom ache in his fingers despite it not being truly physical.

He feels more than hears Lan Xichen’s breath hitch in his chest as his memories continue to play out in much the same order as Nie Mingjue’s had - they watch him, no more than a teenager, leave his home with Lan Wangji in tow to begin training to fight the Kaiju after the third attack had made it clear that this is their new world. The Jades hadn’t been part of the first wave of active pilots like Nie Mingjue had been, but that had much more to do with their age than their willingness to go. Nie Fengyi had respected Nie Mingjue’s desire to lie about his age in order for them to join the fight as soon as possible, but Lan Xichen is a couple years younger than him to begin with, and so he and Lan Wangji had first entered a training center near their home to prepare though it had never been in doubt that they were Drift compatible and would become formidable pilots in due time.

Nie Mingjue watches it all unfold with an interesting degree of familiarity - he had, after all, been in the field at the same time. He’d heard about the Jades through the grapevine, had loosely followed their career practically since it began simply because they were so extraordinary that everyone had. It’s odd now to see it from the inside, but he finds that (unsurprisingly) he can relate more to Lan Xichen now than ever before.

Underlying every thought, every choice, every action, is the desire to protect his brother from harm. The younger brother he’d failed as a child, the boy he hadn’t been able to save from heartbreak nor the distant childhood he’d endured as well. Even now, several years into their pilot careers, Nie Mingjue can feel the thrum of Lan Xichen’s desire to take care of everyone around him like an electric current under his skin, a mirror held up against his own desire for the exact same thing.

‘Oh good, you’ve finally spotted that you’re practically identical,’ Jin Guangyao snarks at him as Lan Xichen’s memories fade naturally back into the neutrality of the Drift. ‘It’s about time.’

‘What do you mean it’s about time?’ Nie Mingjue huffs, affecting as much of a glare as he can at his partner in this place where he can’t hide much at all behind bluster since it’s perfectly obvious how deeply his feelings for him run. ‘If you knew why didn’t you say something?’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’

‘Should we be more focused on the concerning fact that our Drift is somehow still incomplete?’ Lan Xichen cuts in before they can start in on their favorite pastime of bickering. Nie Mingjue allows it with a huff and a meaningful look at Jin Guangyao that just makes his partner smile sweetly up at him.

‘I can take care of that, hold on Huan-ge,’ Jin Guangyao says, his tone utterly businesslike. Nie Mingjue shoots him a look as he can feel the man riffling through his head in that weird way he does, treating each memory like it’s a folder in his filing cabinet, neatly categorized and just waiting for Jin Guangyao to sort through. Judging by the way Lan Xichen is blinking rapidly he’s pretty sure Jin Guangyao is doing the same thing to him, and then out of nowhere there’s a tug in the very core of his being, and he’s not..himself anymore.

He’s a young boy on a mountaintop swathed in mist listening to his uncle play the zither to help him meditate. He’s a boy playing by a muddy, brackish gutter lit only by the glow of red lamps at every doorway around him in a street overcrowded with crooked buildings. He’s running through the maze-like corridors of the ancient military fortress the Nie family have lived in for generations, playing tag to trick his lazy little brother into exercising. He’s all of them, and he’s none of them, and then he’s not even a he anymore, they’re all the same person, the same entity, nothing secret or forgotten between them. Perfectly aligned.

Right Hemisphere : calibrated

Left Hemisphere : calibrated

Ready to activate Simulation

Pilot to Simulator connection : complete

The relief of it is staggering. When Nie Mingjue sucks a sharp breath deep down into his lungs he feels his partners doing it as if it were him, their lungs expanding to match his, everything about them entirely synchronized down to their heartbeats, down to the flowing river of their thoughts. All the way down to the emotions that run deeper than words can ever reach.

‘Vitals steady. Venerated Triad Drift deemed sustainable. End Drift simulator experiment phase one. Begin cooldown sequence.’ Wei Wuxian’s voice is both calm and professional in their ears, a far cry from his usual flighty energy. Separating into their own bodies again is a much quicker process than establishing the Drift, and though it’s disorienting to once again be alone in his body there’s the comforting hum of their shared lives in the back of his mind, the knowledge that if he wants them so intimately close again he only needs to ask.

Nie Mingjue takes a moment to check in with himself before he opens his eyes and looks first to his partners, both of them smiling so widely Jin Guangyao’s dimples are deep pocks in both his cheeks and Lan Xichen looks like he can hardly contain himself, drunk on the happiness of a successful Drift with both of them. There’s no hint of strain, or injury, or fear, and Nie Mingjue’s fear of hurting his partners simply by existing alongside them is put comfortably to rest.

“Congratulations on your new partnership, Chifeng-Zun.”

Nie Mingjue whips his head around to face forward, eyes widening because he knows that voice, and he’d never thought to hear it again. Standing just beside the three at the computers, looking for all the world like they’d never even left -

“I hope it’s alright that Zichen and I returned unannounced,” Xiao Xingchen says with his perpetual sly smile, friendly and sweet under that ever-present hint of gentle mischief. “We saw Immortal Mountain’s exhibition run last week and thought it was time to come back and pay a visit to meet our successors - and to see an old friend. It’s good to know you’re doing well.”

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #Pacific Rim AU #Jin Guangyao #Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue #Wei Wuxian #Nie Huaisang #Wen Qing #Wen Ning #Xiao Xingchen

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stiltonbasket · 2 years

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ok but i need to know how everyone works out the truth in the wangxian cultivation baby au

"It's an easy thing to determine," Lan Xichen says at last, after Wei Wuxian excuses himself and tries to leave the meeting chamber with A-Yuan. "Wei-gongzi, no matter the result, neither I nor my sect would ever try to take the child from you. Most clans have private methods of detecting blood resonance in cases of disputed parentage, and if you wish to keep it a secret, nothing the test reveals will leave this room."

"Except for Lan Zhan?"

"Except for Wangji," Zewu-jun nods. "Unless the spell shows that A-Yuan and I are not blood relatives, in which case you need not tell him anything."

"Wait," Wei Wuxian blurts out, clinging to A-Yuan for dear life. "Can you perform the blood resonance spell twice?"

Lan Xichen raises an eyebrow at him.

"Why?"

"Once with you, as you suggested," he clarifies, "and once with me."

Lan-zongzhu frowns, probably wondering why Wei Wuxian would need a blood resonance spell for a child he bore himself; but Lan Xichen told him that cultivated children were dependent on their parents’ golden cores, and Wei Wuxian lost his three months before A-Yuan was born. Furthermore, Lan Xichen mentioned that such babies are almost indistinguishable from born children, different only in the ease with which they developed jindans later in life—and A-Yuan could go for days without sleeping or eating, even after he and Wei Wuxian left the Burial Mounds, and he can eat any kind of food made soft enough for him to swallow.

For all Wei Wuxian knows, his son might be a benevolent demon who crawled out of the Luanzang Gang to keep him company, and not a human infant at all.

“Zewu-jun,” Wei Wuxian begs, pressing his cheek to the baby’s fuzzy head. “Please.”

Zewu-jun nods and unclips the jade tassel from his belt. “I’ll do yours first. Twist a strand of your hair around one of A-Yuan’s, and give them both to me.”

Wei Wuxian gathers the hairs as bidden, coiling his thick strand of hair around A-Yuan’s little soft one, and watches as Zewu-jun lays them flat across the surface of his yaopei. The pendant flashes silver, and then red; and when Zewu-jun lifts it away, both of the strands of hair have turned white.

“The hairs of close relatives change color upon exposure to the clan yaopei. White signifies the blood bond between a mother and child, or a pair of siblings,” Lan Xichen explains, plucking a fine hair from his temple. “Forgive me, Wei-gongzi, but the spell requires fresh hairs each time. I need another one from A-Yuan.”

So Wei Wuxian cuts another strand of hair, and closes his eyes while Zewu-jun performs the test again.

When he looks back at the pendant, the two strands of hair wound around it have changed from black to a clear, pearlescent gray.

Wei Wuxian feels his blood run cold.

“Do you mind if I send for him now?” Zewu-jun says gently. “He will not ask for custody of the child, I swear it. A-Yuan is yours, regardless of whose blood runs in his veins, and that will never change.”

He nods, hardly daring to breathe while Zewu-jun activates a message talisman and sends it off to the Bujingshi’s training courtyard.

Ten minutes later, Nie Mingjue leads Lan Zhan into the little strategy room and tilts his head at the flailing bundle clutched in Wei Wuxian’s arms.

“Congratulations,” he says, before Wei Wuxian can take Lan Zhan aside and explain everything to him in private.

“A-Huan was right, Wangji. Wei-gongzi’s child is your son.”

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan sizhui #cultivation baby sizhui au #my fic #the reveal is HERE yall #and as always #reblog to feed the prompt stash!

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morifinwes · 3 years

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wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

-------------------------------------

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

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presumenothing · 3 years

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so has anyone written the not-entirely-crack detective au where private investigator wei wuxian solves murders by resurrecting the victims to talk or what

#i'm not going to do it but someone must have??#ramble tag #mdzs

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significanceofmoths · 3 years

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A little edit for @jadedbirch for her fabulous Wangxian noir au, Pearls for a Funeral. Go read now on ao3!!! Edit 2 Summary (best read in your favorite noir detective voice) Private investigator Wei Wuxian finds himself in a pickle when a family of rich socialites hires him to clear Lan Wangji's name after his new husband, Jin Guangshan, is found murdered during their honeymoon. Making Wei Wuxian's life more complicated is the fact that his former partner, Jiang Cheng, is the lead detective on the case. Not helping matters is the fact that it's not entirely clear that Lan Wangji did not, in fact, kill his husband. Peril is behind every corner and time is running out for our gumshoe to solve the case, save his beautiful client from death row, all while butting heads with the people closest to him.

#Wangxian #fic rec #Wangxian edit #flashing gif #Wei Wuxian #Lan Wangji #Lan Xichen #Wen Qing #Lan Qiren #Jiang Cheng #Jin Guangshan #the untamed #mdzs #cql #watched a lot of noir and tutorials #film noir au #noir au #mothgifs

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trilliastra · 3 years

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our hands reaching out

[Modern setting Xicheng, very Lan Xichen centric. I also posted on my AO3 if you prefer reading there]

Two weeks after Jiang Yanli dies, Jiang Cheng disappears. He takes Jin Ling and simply leaves his house, his friends and family behind.

He did not say a word, not even a call, a message to anyone.

Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu stop looking after a month, Wei Wuxian takes a while longer and Jin Guangshan even more. Lan Xichen is ashamed to admit he did not help them, simply trusted that Jiang Cheng needed some time alone, that he would come back to them once he was ready.

A year pass and then three, five, six , and nothing changes. And, just like that, Lan Xichen has to face the utmost truth – Jiang Cheng is gone for good , and Lan Xichen doesn't know him as well as he thought.

–

Lan Xichen doesn't drink. He doesn't have the same problem as his brother, but he doesn't particularly enjoy the taste, but it is said that drinking helps one forget and tonight he just wants to forget everything.

Seven years. At this point he spent more time without Jiang Cheng than with him. So why is it so hard to forget? Why is it so hard to move on?

He takes another sip of the whiskey, lets out a humorless laugh. He knows why, it is in his blood. When Lans fall in love, they love forever . Why would Lan Xichen be any different?

He throws caution to the wind, decides seven years is enough and he deserves to have this drink and the next one and perhaps that entire bottle of tequila the bartender offered when he arrived.

It all hurts too much, his head, his body, his heart . He just wants to forget.

–

When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is the sunlight through the curtains. Lan Xichen closes his eyes, pulls the covers over his face and groans.

He supposes he deserves this, he knew what he was getting into, after all. But then the nausea hits and he has to scramble towards the bathroom. And that's when he realizes he is not in his house.

–

“Take this.” Wei Wuxian says, placing a painkiller and a glass of water in front of him. “Trust me, it helps.” He smiles and Lan Xichen feels like covering his eyes, his smile is that blinding.

Wangji sits next to his husband, watching Lan Xichen the entire time. He said good morning when Lan Xichen walked down the stairs and nothing else, but his eyes are worried, Lan Xichen can see and feels guilt settling in his chest when he realizes he caused this.

“I'm sorry.” Lan Xichen says. He has no idea how he ended up at his brother's house, supposes someone must have recognized him and called Wangji – he's thankful they didn't call his uncle. “I'll leave you as soon as I'm feeling better.”

He watches as his brother and his husband trade a worried glance, feels uneasy when Wei Wuxian finally sighs and turns back to him, expression filled with guilt.

“Xichen-ge,” he says, “do you remember anything from last night?”

Lan Xichen arches an eyebrow and forces himself to think about the bar, the countless glasses of alcohol he consumed. He remembers bits and pieces, a glass falling to the ground, a confused yell, his brother's face, tears . His own?

“I –” he shakes his head, ashamed, “not much.”

Wei Wuxian nods in understanding, but is Wangji who talks first. “Brother called me last night.” He says. “Crying.”

Oh, no. Lan Xichen closes his eyes, runs a hand over his face. This is humiliating.

“I am truly sorry.” He reaches out for his brother's hand, feels his heart swelling with affection when Wangji accepts the touch easily. Wei Wuxian really changed him, Lan Xichen couldn't be prouder of how far his little brother has come.

Wangji nods. “Brother,” he adds, “you're in love with Jiang Wanyin.” He says, as upfront as always. Lan Xichen startles so badly, he pulls his hand back, a gasp escaping his lips.

“I –” it is clear they won't believe him if he tries to deny, and what good would that make? He can blame the high levels of alcohol in his blood, but in reality, this is a secret he was tired of keeping, “yes, I am. Still.” He admits, finally. If only he could have done that sooner.

This time it is Wei Wuxian who takes his hand. “I'm sorry, Xichen-ge. If only I knew .” There are tears in his eyes and he notices Wangji's hand on his back, supportive, loving .

“Wei Wuxian, there is nothing to be sorry for.” He tries his best to give him a reassuring smile. This is not his fault. “He left and –”

“No, it's not that!” Wei Wuxian shakes his head frantically, takes his phone and forces Lan Xichen to hold it. “Xichen-ge,” he points at the phone, “I know where he is.”

Baffled, Lan Xichen blinks down at the phone in his hands, almost drops it when he finally sees the photo.

Lan Xichen thought about him almost every day, dreamed about Jiang Cheng's smile, his beautiful eyes, but in his imagination, Jiang Cheng still looks the same as he did when he was eighteen. That same mischievous smile, the annoyed expression that Lan Xichen always found endearing.

This picture – this is the real Jiang Cheng. Older, hair longer, his smile isn't as big as it used to be, but he looks happy as he waves at the camera, holding a little boy that Lan Xichen assumes is Jin Ling.

Oh , gods. Lan Xichen collapses on the closest chair, holding the phone so tightly it could break. “How?”

Wei Wuxian sniffles audibly, sits on the chair next to him. “I'll tell you.”

–

“He wanted to leave, even before-” Wei Wuxian trails off. Lan Xichen nods, he's always known how hard it was for Jiang Cheng at his house, his relationship with his parents toeing the line between neglect and abuse. He never voiced his complaints but it was obvious to anyone who was close enough to see. Especially when they knew his siblings as well.

Jiang Yanli getting married, Wei Wuxian going to college and all but moving in with Lan Wangji only worsened Jiang Cheng's situation.

“And when jiejie died,” ha pauses, closing his eyes as more tears begin to fall, “he knew Jin Guangshan would try to take Jin Ling away. We all know he tried.” Lan Xichen nods, Jin Guangshan went insane when Jiang Cheng vanished, there are rumors about him cursing at his servants, throwing furniture around and then getting drunk for days. But there was nothing he could do, really. Jiang Cheng is Jin Ling's legal guardian, the police wouldn't accept his attempts at reporting the boy missing.

He says as much out loud and Wei Wuxian nods. “That's where Jin Guangyao walks in.” Lan Xichen frowns. “Jin Guangshan hired a private detective, one of the best, but he never actually met with him. It was always Jin Guangyao.”

That is the part that always confused him. Jiang Cheng isn't a spy or a master of disguise, a private detective could have found them, but nothing came back despite Jin Guangshan's many attempts.

“Without Jin Ling, Jin Guangshan had no heir, except for Jin Guangyao.” Wei Wuxian explains and Lan Xichen closes his eyes again. He was so stupid, how could he not have noticed it before? After Jin Guangshan died, Jin Guangyao did inherit most of his assets. He turned the company around, practically doubled their profits in a year and is living happily in his mansion.

He stopped looking for Jin Ling as soon as Jin Guangshan was cremated and they never talked about it. Lan Xichen still trying to mend his broken heart and Jin Guangyao, he had assumed, had given up after trying for all those years.

It all makes sense, except for – “so how do you –” he asks and watches as Wei Wuxian lowers his head. Lan Xichen has never seen him like this before.

“I've always known.” He admits finally, voice small and shy. Lan Xichen takes a deep breath, closes his eyes to try and calm himself. He feels the anger bubbling inside him, closes his fists so tight he feels his nails prickling the palms of his hands.

“Wei Wuxian –” he says, takes a look at his brother, feeling wronged, betrayed. Wangji looks as confused as he feels and Lan Xichen understands then, that he also didn't know. Seven years married and Wei Wuxian kept this a secret from him as well.

“I'm – I'm not sorry about lying.” Wei Wuxian says, raising his head and giving them a defying look. “I made a promise to my brother.” He points out, turning to Wangji. Lan Xichen knows from the look on Wangji's face that his brother has already forgiven him. And he also knows – deep inside his heart – that there is nothing to forgive in the end.

There is nothing he wouldn't do for his brother, after all.

“I am sorry for not noticing before.” Wei Wuxian insists. “If only I knew you are in love with him – Xichen-ge, if only I –”

“Brother hid it very well.” Wangji interrupts, taking Wei Wuxian's hand but keeping his eyes on Lan Xichen. He doesn't sound angry, never does. His eyes are soft, but there's sadness in them.

Wangji feels sorry for him. Gods, how pitiful.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen says after a moment, suddenly feeling like he's aged twenty years in the span of an hour. He's so tired of running from his feelings, hiding them because he's afraid of facing rejection, of losing a friendship. It was his apparent disinterest that led Jiang Cheng to feel backed into a corner, without another option but to run away to protect his most treasured person. Alone, “where is he?”

–

Jin Ling is on the yard when Lan Xichen arrives at the farm. Well, animal sanctuary, he corrects himself. Jiang Cheng was studying to be a vet when Jiang Yanli died and to be able to raise Jin Ling without help, he had to drop out of school.

“He works at an animal sanctuary now.” Wei Wuxian had said, showing him more and more pictures of Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling and the animals he works with – foxes (Wei Wuxian did not save the pictures of the wolves, he admitted, pulling a face), deers.

Lan Xichen is glad that he's still doing something he loves, even if it's not what he always dreamed about.

He parks the car, takes a moment to watch Jin Ling. The boy has a puppy with him and he seems to be teaching it how to play fetch, throwing a purple ball for the puppy to catch. It seems to be going well and Jin Ling always makes sure to give the dog a treat when it brings the ball back.

Lan Xichen startles when a man steps outside the house, waving for Jin Ling to get inside. When the boy doesn't immediately obey, the man goes to him, picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. The boy shrieks with laughter and the puppy follows them, yapping happily.

He doesn't realize he started crying until he feels the tears running down his cheeks.

They look happy, like a real family. A family Jin Ling lost at such a young age, a family Jiang Cheng never really had.

He watches Jin Ling squirm and Jiang Cheng put him down, running a hand over his hair. Jin Ling throws the ball again and when the puppy brings it back he smiles up at his uncle, chest puffing out proudly. Jiang Cheng smiles at him and Lan Xichen can clearly see him mouthing the words 'good job' at his nephew who smiles even brighter and throws himself at him.

Jiang Cheng accepts the hug with ease and Lan Xichen feels his heart swell with love. Oh, how he wishes he could have been there to watch him grow as a parent, to watch this little boy break down all Jiang Cheng's walls and help him accept that affection is something good and not a weakness. That love should be given freely and not earned through excellent grades or good behavior.

Lan Xichen doesn't know how long he stays inside the car, drinking on the sight of Jiang Cheng after so many years. He's a man now, not a eighteen-year old, and all his features are the same but more defined by the years. Lan Xichen stares at his broad shoulders, admires the curve of his neck, the cut of his jaw, gazes up to his mouth and when he reaches his eyes, Lan Xichen finds them looking at him.

–

“Wei Wuxian told you?” It's the first thing Jiang Cheng asks, defensive, when Lan Xichen finally steps out of the car and walks towards him.

“Yes.” He answers, stops a few feet away from them. Jiang Cheng stands in front of Jin Ling protectively, and Lan Xichen feels his heart drop to his stomach. What was he expecting, anyway? “How are you?” He starts, friendly, looks down at Jin Ling and smiles. “Hello.”

“Jin Ling, inside.” Jiang Cheng orders and the boy all but scrambles to obey. Lan Xichen closes his eyes, almost brings a hand to cover his heart. He wasn't expecting to be welcomed with open arms, but he was not expecting this level of hostility either. “What do you –”

“I missed you.” Lan Xichen confesses and watches as Jiang Cheng takes a step back, surprised. “Gods, I missed you so much.” He can't help but reach out to take his hand, to make sure he is really there, so close.

He knows Jiang Cheng will not come back with him, will understand if the other man doesn't ever want to see him again after this, but he waited, hoped, to do this for so long, Lan Xichen cannot help himself.

“You disappeared. It was like you died, Jiang Cheng, I –” he closes his eyes again, when everything feels too much, “I miss you.”

“After all this time?” He hears Jiang Cheng ask, looks at him just to find Jiang Cheng's eyes filled with tears, a mirror of his own. “I never dared to hope you could –”

“Yes.” Lan Xichen answers immediately, steps closer. He doesn't dare pull him into a hug like he's been wanting to, but just this – the warmth of his body so close to Lan Xichen's – is enough. “I love you. I always did.” He lets out. “After all this time – I never stopped.”

Jiang Cheng throws his arms around Lan Xichen's shoulder and collapses against him with a soft sigh. “I missed you, too.” He confesses against Lan Xichen's neck.

All his senses are Jiang Cheng, his voice, his touch, his scent. It is overwhelming in the most perfect way, Lan Xichen never wants to let go. And he never will, he promises himself, makes a mental note to tell Jiang Cheng as much.

Now that he finally found him, he will make sure to keep him forever.

#jiang cheng x lan xichen #xicheng #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #my fic #ooooooo

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bitterfrosts · 3 years

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it has been several months since we last saw our favorite bodyguard! Which I'm sorry for lmao life got in the way. 😭

But once again we are back in the saddle and Song Lan makes a big discovery!

Xue Yang’s apartment is a mess. This is an understatement, really. Xue Yang’s apartment is a PIGSTY. There’s so many loose papers and wrappers littering the floor, it shakes Song Lan’s footing. He takes a glance back to the old landlady still standing in the doorway nervously holding a master’s key and slowly makes his way through the filth covering everything and lets his hands land on the small, round table that stands in what he assumes Xue Yang had been using as a dining area.

The table itself is covered in opened mail- overdue bills and junk, by the look of it. Song Lan rubs his face with his hands and sighs. It doesn’t seem as if Xue Yang is home, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek around just in case. He looks back down at the table and brushes an invoice from a warehouse rental off to the side, next to a pile of old magazines Song Lan isn’t brave enough right now to root through.

Song Lan leaves the little kitchenette area and wades through the trash-covered floor to what he hopes is Xue Yang’s bedroom. The door is covered in posters for metal bands Song Lan has never heard of, with names written in stylistic fonts Song Lan can’t read. Song Lan wrinkles his face up at bit at the sloppy and haphazard array of images on the door and slowly twists the knob and pushes the door open.

If Song Lan thought Xue Yang’s living room was dirty, his bedroom is even worse. He has a pile of dirty clothes fermenting in a huge pile on the floor next to the window, which itself has been covered with a layer of aluminum foil- probably to keep the sun out. Song Lan raises his eyebrows to see that Xue Yang never once took his recommendations for blackout curtains. Figures. Xue Yang would never do anything Song Lan suggested, even if it was helpful.

His bed is a tangled mess of blankets and sheets (which Song Lan is at least glad for. Xue Yang keeps sheets on his bed at least. He sighs in relief, if only for his own sense of propriety.) and across from the bed is a corkboard hastily tacked on to the wall. Song Lan gingerly steps over a pile of discarded shoes and bangs his knee by accident on the desk under the board. His phone is there, on top of some crinkled computer paper and a cheap laptop. It’s enough confirmation that he does still live here from time to time. The corkboard in his line of view is covered in photos, some developed and others still on the strip. Then he focuses on one of them and nearly backs up and falls backward onto the bed.

It’s a photo of Xiao Xingchen, taken the night Song Lan first took him to the gym. There’s no mistaking it, it can’t be anyone else but him. Song Lan recognizes the curve of his jaw even from a photo taken from behind.

Song Lan runs back out to the living room and back to the little table and begins frantically flipping through the pile of magazines on it. How could he be so blind? They’re all SPORTS magazines. And Song Lan has at least one small featured article in each one. Then he picks up the last one in the pile, identical to the one he knew had been used to make the notes. He opens it to the main article, holding the pages between his index finger and thumb as if it were diseased somehow, and looks on in horror at the various letters and words that had been painstakingly cut out from it.

He drops the magazine and reaches back for his phone and dials a number he hoped he’d never have to call.

“Hello hello!” Come the voice of private detective Wei Wuxian on the other end. “Song Lan? Is it you? What do you need?”

“Can you come over to this address?” He asks, rattling it off as calmly as he can. “It’s urgent.”

#song lan #songxiao #'my fics'#bodyguard au #did you miss me? no but pls lie and say yes anyway~

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eigwayne · 3 years

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Fic Time! It’s the first part of the ChengQing fic I keep mentioning.

A Little Spoiled

Rating: Explicit Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Relationship: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Wēn Qíng Characters: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wen Qing (Módào Zǔshī) Language: English; Words: 4045; Chapters:1/4

Additional Tags: Inadvisable Hook-ups, paying for groceries as a form of affection, kinda sugar daddy jiang cheng, Emotional Constipation, First Time, Awkward First Times, vacillating wildly between annoyed and horny, as many of us are when jiang cheng is involved, Secrets, drama canon

Read chapter 1 on AO3 here.

Wen Qing knows this is a bad idea. He's short tempered, fought a war against her clan, and has responsibilities that dont- can't- include her. She returned his comb and is keeping a secret that could destroy him.

But he's paying for much-needed supplies and when he almost smiles she can pretend things are simpler, that he's just the shy young master who could have loved her. And sometimes even the most commanding people want to be a little spoiled.

(A vaguely drama-canon-compliant affair between Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng during the Burial Mound era, where secrets are kept, gifts are bought, and Wen Qing struggles between respect for herself and desire for Jiang Cheng before deciding she wants to attempt to have both. Fic concept notes at the end, if you’re into that.)

Wen Qing inspected the produce, turning over a potato as she checked for faults. Most were unsprouted but one never really knew. And she certainly didn’t want Wei Wuxian to think she was encouraging him. This was a treat, not a crop! Wen Ning stood behind her, patient as always and uncommenting on her vegetable selections, with his now-empty radish basket waiting to be filled.

“We’ll take some,” she said to the seller, “but you’re asking simply too much for…” A flash of purple caught her eye. Her heart jumped at the thought of him, although it wasn’t easy to tell if it was fear or not.

(Fear would be safer. Her family had made enemies of the Great Sects, Jiang Wanyin more than most, and she should be wary of him. But late at night, when she let herself dream… Well, that was a different story and she certainly wasn’t going to mull that over right there in the marketplace.)

Either way, he had as much right to cross Yiling as she did; Wei Wuxian hadn’t started a sect no matter what the rumors said and Yiling was no one’s territory. She pretended to be unaffected, hoped Wen Ning hadn’t noticed him, and turned back to the potato seller. “No, this price is too much. I am willing to spend…”

Later, potatoes successfully haggled to a reasonable price and more Wen Qing-approved vegetables joining them in Wen Ning’s basket, the Wen siblings walked together toward the exit of the market square. Wen Qing could almost pretend things were normal- that Wen Ning was alive and well, and she was simply restocking her dispensary. They would go home and everyone would have enough to eat and-

She cut that thought off before it could go further. It was too tempting, the fantasies and could-have-beens. Her mind supplied enough of those as she lay in the dark, in the moments after she laid her head on her pillow and before sleep claimed her. And her mind supplied more as she paused near a display of haircombs.

‘I should have at least asked him for some seeds and fertilizer when I gave it back,’ she thought as she remembered Jiang Wanyin’s gift. She thought of a million things she could have asked him for, after the comb had already been returned. But a rebuilding sect could spare none of it, really, and the unspoken offers were heavier than the spoken one. And all of it was foolish could-have-beens.

But she had a practical reason for looking at combs. The last good comb had broken tines and A-Yuan needed something gentle on his scalp. He cried every time he had his hair combed and that simply wouldn’t do.

“I have a few small things to get,” she said to Wen Ning. “I’ll be along shortly. Head back and help the others, okay?” He nodded and murmured his assent, and turned back to the main road. Her heart swelled with fondness. Such a good, obedient, caring boy, even now.

Wen Qing stood in front of the display, looking for something inexpensive but well-made, the tips blunt enough for A-Yuan.

At her level of cultivation, she easily felt him approach. He wasn’t even attempting to hide his presence, but she would know the feel of him even if she was drowning in the resentment of the Burial Mounds. There was his natural energy, a tumultuous pulse that she had spent so long rebuilding. There was the electric feel of his inherited spiritual weapon. And although it wasn’t something she could detect consciously, she imagined she could feel it, as the one who put it there- the blazing heat of Wei Wuxian’s golden core.

He was a storm made flesh, and he stood beside her in the marketplace of Yiling. And he said, his voice low and tight in her ear, “If you needed a comb, you should have kept the one I gave you.”

Anger flashed through her- how dare he get so close, use that voice! How dare he say something like that without even looking her in the eye! How dare he speak of it in public at all! But she swallowed it, never let it reach her face. It was a skill she learned serving a harsher master than he.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” she said with a slight curtsy. It was cute and feminine and she should have bowed, to remind him they were both cultivators and she was not without power, but she was standing straight again before it even occurred to her.

He bowed to her then, just the correct angle for politeness’s sake.

“I need a comb for a child,” she said calmly, in response to his words. “That comb should be given to a bride.”

He flinched, visibly, and she turned back to the display. The shopkeeper was surely drawing conclusions but if she wanted Wen Qing’s business, she’d keep her mouth shut.

She selected two combs, simple in design but tines sanded smooth and blunt with care. Jiang Wanyin stood beside her the whole time and she drew it out, letting him stew. He could say something if he wanted her attention that badly. He certainly had no qualms about getting close enough to be heard.

But drawing it out too long would be a waste of her time, too, so she eventually made her decision. As she reached for her too-thin money pouch, Jiang Wanyin stopped her. His hand was warm on her forearm but then, she was always cold. They were all a little cold, on the Burial Mounds.

“You don’t have to,” she hissed.

“I don’t,” he agreed, and handed the shopkeeper the silver.

The combs were wrapped in fabric- not patterned silk, just a soft linen Wen Qing would use for patching or handkerchiefs later- and she led Jiang Wanyin a few steps away.

“I do not intend to owe you anything,” she said, voice low as she dug the silver out of her pouch to repay him. She didn’t bother to hide her annoyance.

“It’s a gift. Keep your money.”

She looked at him, lips tight. There was still tension in his face (perhaps there always would be), but she saw the shadow of the boy he had been. The boy who looked at her with wonder and longing. It was just a tiny, dying ember but the fact that it was there at all, after everything, made her breath catch in her throat.

‘He is so soft when he hopes, like he could be gentle again someday. Is this what drove Wei Wuxian when he begged me to do the surgery?’

She turned away, too aware that she was staring. “I don’t want to discuss this in the middle of the market.”

“Shall we have tea, then? My treat,” he said, and pushed past her to head for the teahouse. She followed him, and cursed herself for a fool.

They got a private room, but tea was served and they savored the first sips before either of them spoke to the other. Wen Qing broke the silence first.

“Why are you in Yiling?”

“I was passing through,” he said.

“Passing through,” she scoffed. “With no disciples? Do you take me for a fool? Sect Leaders don’t travel by themselves.”

The look on his face was hard, angry, but embarrassed. “I sent them on ahead when I saw you,” he admitted.

She still wasn’t sure she believed the ‘passing through’ bit, but let it go. “You could have just left. I wouldn’t have blamed you for not wanting to speak with me.”

“A-jie would want to know how Wei Wuxian is doing. Who better to ask?”

Wen Qing would have been disappointed that he had not stopped for her, but Wei Wuxian had always been what brought them into each other’s orbits. “He’s managing,” she said. “Still bothering me about potatoes. Trying to branch out into even more fickle plants.” Nevermind that she was the one who enabled Wei Wuxian in the first place, buying those lotus seeds.

Jiang Wanyin huffed. “He never could do the practical thing.”

“It seems to be working. The lotuses are growing well, at least.” Wen Qing bit back a smile at how his eyes bulged. Good. Let him be surprised.

Jiang Wanyin looked down at his tea for a moment, digesting the fact that the man he cast out, the man he let exile himself, was growing the family emblem. Wen Qing waited a bit, then asked, “So what made you take out your wallet for my combs? We’re not beholden to you. Or was that also an excuse to ask after Wei Wuxian?” She wasn’t going to lie to herself about the combs any more than she would about his reason for stopping at all. Jiang Wanyin may still hold a tiny spark of his adolescent crush but he was no altruist.

“I felt like it, and Yunmeng Jiang is in a position where I can do things because I feel like doing it,” he said.

So he was showing off. She bit back the urge to slam her teacup back on the table. As it was, she still put it down with more force than strictly necessary.

“You don’t need to look down on us, Sect Leader Jiang,” she said with as much calm as she could muster. “It may be a simple life but we are managing.”

“Are you? Because I remember what you looked like before. Are you getting enough to eat? Is that boy getting enough?”

“You would dare-“

“I would dare! Wei Wuxian meddled in things he shouldn’t have, and now he can’t even take care of you! This is what playing hero does! You’re still suffering!”

“There are different types of suffering. I prefer this to the Jins.”

Her voice was level, the heat simmering below the surface of her cold tone. Jiang Wanyin had the grace to look embarrassed. They sat in silence again, and Wen Qing contemplated on whether she should leave now or later, after their food was brought in. Her pride said now. Her stomach said later.

“I’m not a hero like he is,” Jiang Wanyin said before she decided. He looked down at his teacup rather than meet her eyes. “I can only protect what’s mine. But I still wish to include you in that, sometimes.”

“So you bought my combs?”

He gave a curt nod. “I know I’m nothing compared to him, but-“ There was a soft knock at the door of their private dining room. They fell silent again as a waiter bustled in and their food was set down. The smell set Wen Qing’s stomach growling and she had to hold herself back, too conscious that eating quickly would make her sick, and prove Jiang Wanyin’s point about the insufficient dietary needs in the Burial Mounds (she also wondered how much she could stow away to bring home for A-Yuan without sacrificing too much of her dignity). And frankly, she had better manners than to bolt her food in front of a Sect Leader, no matter how much she wanted to. It kept her occupied, keeping up the pretense of being genteel, and she didn’t have to think about how this was possibly her longest conversation with Jiang Wanyin and how Wei Wuxian would be surprised at open he was with her. She wouldn’t think about how he looked healthy enough, no signs of weakness in his spiritual energy (although she’d have to check him properly to be sure, and oh, how her fingers twitched to grasp his wrist at that!), or how he looked charmingly uncertain when the silence went on. And she definitely wouldn’t think about how pink his lips were around his chopsticks.

She had just taken a bite of course, when he finally spoke again. “It’s been six months since A-jie got married. My third-in-command- well, second-in-command, now- he knows what to do to keep things running. Now that most of the boardwalks are rebuilt, it seems all I do is paperwork and oversee lessons. Buying those combs… I felt….”

He poked at his food with his chopsticks, clearly not comfortable with the thoughts he was forming. No one Wen Qing knew was comfortable with that much truth about themselves.

‘For all we aspire to the inner peace an immortal would have, we are ill-suited for it,’ she thought, about herself and Jiang Wanyin and every cultivator they knew (except perhaps her own little brother).

“You felt needed?” she suggested. “There would be nothing wrong with that, if we were any other people.”

“If we were any other people, I would buy you much more than a couple combs.” As soon as the words were past his lips, he looked up at her with wide, startled eyes. He clearly hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

She should ignore it, might have if they were adolescents still, but the fresh food with proper spices (and no radishes at all, because even she was sick of them by now) made her feel alive and bold.

“If we were other people, I would let you,” she said. As angry as he made her mere moments before, she liked this honesty in him. She was treated to the sight of hope in his expression again- a softening of tension, the creases between his brows smoothing just a bit- before he remembered his responsibilities.

“I can’t spend too much more- time or money. My disciples will worry if I don’t catch up with them soon. But-”

“It’s fine. I also have to get back before anyone starts to worry.”

“Let me walk you back,” Jiang Wanyin said in a rush.

Wen Qing wanted to say ‘yes’. Jiang Wanyin was pleasant to look at, after all, and had warm hands. If he was a bit awkward and kept putting his foot in his mouth, well, Wen Qing wasn’t the smoothest individual either and rather liked having someone she could get snippy with. Plus, Wei Wuxian still cared about him and would want to see him. But he was also the master of a Great Sect and her family, small as it was now, had been his sworn enemy.

“I’m not sure that would be wise,” she said. “We’ve already been seen together. Someone might recognize us.”

“Only because we’re known here. If we were somewhere else, I would do it. I would buy more than a couple combs for you."

Wen Qing stopped picking at her food and looked at him. There was that expression again, the hopeful puppy one she enjoyed but so often turned away from. She hated saying ‘no’ when he made that face.

So she said ‘yes’ for a change.

‘This is terribly selfish,’ she thought as they walked. Despite saying he shouldn’t spend more money earlier, he bought a rather large amount of baozi, and a couple hair ribbons in neutral tones (he must have noticed her frayed edges, damn him for being observant), ginger and dried peppercorns for her family and chili paste that was clearly for Wei Wuxian, and a very nice kitchen knife. He tested it on his thumb for her, like an idiot, and she used just a bit of her spiritual energy to heal the cut for him, ignoring the small gasp he let out when she took his hand.

(The contact wasn’t long enough, for all it seemed to burn them both. But he took her healing easily and she has no cause to worry about the golden core’s function, and no cause to keep holding on to him.)

He pressed all these items into her hands and she didn’t protest at all. She should, a token refusal for politeness’s sake or a real refusal because this was foolish of him and she couldn’t repay this kindness. But she thought of how well her family would eat tonight, between the fresh vegetables she sent with Wen Ning and these baozi. She didn’t dare take a chance that he would accept a refusal and take it all back.

She carried the baozi in a wooden box while Jiang Wanyin walked beside her, eyes straight ahead and hand on his sword like he was ignoring the people on the street and daring them to say something, all at once. Wen Qing had seen Wen Ruohan and his sons manage it but Jiang Wanyin was too self-conscious to pull it off quite yet. But then, their circumstances were different. Jiang Wanyin’s position was still precarious in many ways, and the Wens of her youth were unquestioned masters of Qishan.

Well. Things changed. Perhaps someday, Jiang Wanyin could walk down the street with a young lady and be confident about it. Wen Qing felt a pang that that young lady would not be her.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed when they reached the edge of town and kept going. Jiang Wanyin was still beside her and it seemed, perhaps not natural but certainly pleasant to feel his stormy presence and see the violet of his robes out of the corner of her eye.

“I shouldn’t go much further,” he finally said. They were at the foot of the Burial Mounds, within sight of the dark forest and the walls.

“You let me walk all this way without thanking you?” Wen Qing set the container of baozi down and bowed. “I want to repay you for this kindness, Jiang-zongzhu. I will find a way.”

“I told you I don’t want repayment,” he said, putting his hands under her elbows to stop her bow from sinking deeper. “We are even and this changes nothing.”

“This is money you weren’t planning to spend. Money that should go back to your sect.”

“My sect is fine and that money was my own!” He stepped closer, forcing her to straighten or hold her bow with her arms pressed against his chest. She chose to straighten her back. “You don’t owe me for this. I wanted to- to check on Wei Wuxian. For A-jie’s sake.”

“And yet you won’t come to see him?”

They stood for a moment, Jiang Wanyin’s hands still on her arms, almost as close as that day in the teahouse when they’d both been chasing Wei Wuxian. She glared up at him in challenge and started to pull her arms away, but he held her fast.

“I can’t. But… I’m not ready for you to go,” he said, and he pulled. She stumbled, two jerky steps, into the circle of his arms.

“Jiang-zongzhu,” she started, but her voice trailed off. He was warm and- well, not soft, but his muscles were invitingly firm under his robes. While she contemplated the feel of his chest and the silk of his robes (both very nice and she wanted to spend an hour or two running her hands over them), he wrapped his arms around her.

She was caught. She should have been angry, alarmed. He was the leader of a Great Sect, a danger to her family, and even a normal man could be dangerous to a woman alone. But she was hardly helpless and he had spent his money on them and he didn’t feel dangerous, not now.

‘It’s just a hug,’ she told herself. It was extremely inappropriate, with them being unrelated and unmarried, and even though she was still annoyed (he was infuriating! And infuriatingly inviting), she leaned into it anyway. There was something nice about being held close, secure in the cradle of his arms, hidden from the world by his expensive silks.

“A kiss,” he said, shattering the quiet of forest. She looked up at him. It wasn’t a good angle on him, mostly cheek and sideburn and nostril, but that didn’t calm her wild thoughts at all.

He didn’t look down at her or loosen his hold, and indeed he tightened his grip until she could feel Zidian digging into her shoulder. “What if I said a kiss would make us even?”

Her first response was a resounding ‘Yes!’ Their bodies were pressed together, his arms holding her tight, and she could see his lips, tempting and moist where he licked them in nervousness. A kiss seemed like a natural extension of their embrace.

But she had never traded affection for anything. Not goods, not money, not position, not even safety for her family. ‘I’m not that kind of woman,’ she wanted to say, needed him to know.

She could be, though, if it meant having Jiang Wanyin’s lips on her.

But she took too long thinking about it, and he loosened his hold and started to pull away. “Nevermind,” he snapped. “It was just a whim. I’m not so desperate that I can’t get a woman without bribing her with gifts!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Wen Qing said as she grabbed his sleeve. “And I’m not the sort of woman who can be bribed with gifts. Make no mistake about that! When I kiss you, it will be-.”

She was cut off by the crash of his lips against hers. One of his hands grabbed her arm. As if she would try to escape! She let him deepen the kiss, all her hesitation fleeing in her eagerness to have him. She put one arm about his shoulders, and he slipped his other arm around her waist, still holding tight with his other hand as he kissed her.

He tasted of the tea they’d had with their meal, and he held her too tightly and kissed like he was trying to devour her, all tooth and searching tongue. She should have shook him off, demanded he be more gentlemanly.

Instead, she said, “Don’t bite,” nearly breathless. She let him back her against a tree and press himself to her body, and the one harsh kiss softened and became many.

These kisses were not as frantic, but were still demanding, deep and wet. His breath was burning hot against her skin, his body firm under her hands. He had one thigh between her legs and she could feel everything. These kisses? These, she wanted more of.

Why shouldn’t she have this? What good was maintaining her virtue? Making a good marriage would never happen now, and she no longer needed to keep herself chaste as a bargaining chip for her family.

Ah, but he looked down on her family, didn’t he? Would she have any self-respect left if she let Jiang Wanyin touch her? She hoped so, hoped that his small kindness today meant that he wasn’t so bitter.

But did she have any right to touch him, knowing what she did about his golden core?

She flinched, and he loosened his hold on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I know you’re a respectable lady.”

“I… Even respectable ladies have wants,” she confessed. “I just… I have to get back soon. And this isn’t the sort of thing I want to do under a dead tree.”

Hope blossomed in his face, a smile on his kiss-dark lips, and he touched her cheek with more gentleness than he’d shown since before the war. “Agreed. And… I liked spending the afternoon with you, Wen-guniang. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.” His tone suggested that had been a possibility, and she found she didn’t want that, either.

She returned to the settlement shortly after, with the box of baozi and an agreement to meet again in ten days. Wen Ning leapt to his feet with a happy “Jie!” when he saw her. Her family gathered around her all talking at once.

“Qing-guniang, what’s all this?”

“I got good deals on some things,” she started to explain, and because the truth was easier than another lie she admitted, “Wei Wuxian’s martial brother sent some, but be quiet about it if you’re in town. He still can’t be known to help us.”

Wei Wuxian’s head peeked over the others’ shoulders as he joined them, drawn out of his cave by the commotion. “Jiang Cheng? Really? What did you say to him to get him to send something over?!”

Wen Qing just smiled at him, and started distributing her acquisitions.

~Notes~

So yeah, at the beginning I mentioned this had a note on the fic concepts, so here it is. Be grateful it's at the end; it was at the beginning at one point.

This has been kicking around my harddrive for a while in various drafts and levels of completion, and I decided to just wrap it up and start posting it. Right now, I estimate it at 4 chapters. Please do not expect the chapters to be a consistent length; they're looking to be very different.

The concept is to let Wen Qing be the one being taken care of for a change, and to let Jiang Cheng spoil someone he cares about (I believe my initial thought was something like "Jiang Cheng wants to be Wen Qing's sugar daddy but he is not daddy enough at this point").

And I love and firmly believe that Jiang Cheng would go down on a partner and enjoy it, I don't think he could have started out that way. He's in essence a spoiled rich kid with no experience with women, he's going to start off as a stumbling, selfish lover. He has to learn about possibilities, and that's going to involve some fumbling first. And I also love confident and commanding-in-the-bedroom Wen Qing but I don't think she would have much opportunity for that experience in canon. I also very much want Jiang Cheng to support Wei Wuxian in secret ('cause during my first Untamed watching, I thought he was sneaking Wei Wuxian supplies or money during the Burial Mounds exile), for Wen Qing to follow-up on her miraculous and devastating secret surgery (like seriously, she never tried to sense his qi or anything after, not once?! And then some posts floated by my Tumblr dash- iirc, winepresswrath is a ringleader but you can find them kicking around i’m sure- that I was not the only one who thought things like this and I knew I had to do it, at least a little), and for Jiang Cheng to dress Wen Qing up. So I mulled those thoughts for a bit and eventually a couple snippets came to me, and I attempted to make them into a story.

And then I was an idiot and challenged myself to 1) not use any scientific or 'vulgar' terminology in the sex scenes but also not use too much purple prose, no Jiang sect color puns intended at this time, and 2) end it so that the story is, in some way, canon compliant. This is a side moment, something Wei Wuxian knows nothing about and therefore canon theoretically continues uninterrupted. Of course, if you prefer a future where Wen Qing develops the sexual confidence we all know she has in her and rides Jiang Cheng to a different and possibly better fate, please think of that instead (and wish me luck on the idea I had for a canon-divergence sequel).

Next Chapter

#the untamed #chengqing #chen qing ling #jiang cheng/wen qing #My writing #this is only chapter one the smut comes later #also heed the 'awkward first times' and 'drama canon' tags #i tried to make it drama or novel canon compliant but i could not resist comb drama

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fixaidea · 3 years

Note

OH I HOPED YOU WOULD DO THAT ONE. I would please like to know about "Cruise Trip", "ExF _East", and I'm torn between "witch wwx" (which I suspect is more Discworld??? ^_^) and "dumb villain" (because I always enjoy your dumb villain stories), so maybe both of those? ^_^

Cruise trip

This is a supernatural mystery, that takes place on a cruise ship. It stars one of my all-time favourite OCs, Dr. Ali Rana and his boyfriend Anton Szalóky (who just unexpectedly inherited a large sum of money).

Here’s the prologue:

The thing about stories, is that sometimes it’s hard to pin down when exactly they started. Take this very story, for example: it would be easy to say it started in a busy port in New Orleans, but it wouldn’t be quite true. You could also claim it started in a courtroom, and even though it would be somewhat closer to the truth, it still wouldn’t be quite correct.

No. If you wanted to get to the bottom of it, you’d find that, despite having seemingly nothing to do with them at all, this story started with an army of Soviet tanks in 1956. It started with a failed revolution and a man called András Szalóky who seized his chance and, using the general mayhem snuck out under the Iron Curtain and escaped to the United States to seek a better life.

He found it, at least in terms of material comfort, if not so much in domestic happiness. In that, he was quite unlucky, as he managed to marry into the most unpleasant of families – the kind that tends to serve as the backdrop and subject of some quirky private detective, as someone inevitably ends up poisoned for their money. Mr. Szalóky escaped this fate, but the older he got, the more bitter he grew towards his new relatives. By the time he turned 80 his resentment was right off the scale.

He took certain measures. He consulted a lauded psychiatric professor who officially confirmed that he was, indeed, in full possession of all his faculties. He hired the quirky private detective himself, but this time mostly to trawl through Facebook and check birth certificates.

The certificate confirming his sanity and an e-mail containing the name and address of the nephew twice removed he never knew he had arrived the same day.

Mr. Szalóky smiled. He signed his newly constructed will and testament.

His only regret was not getting to see the faces his family would make.

ExF_East

Probably disappointingly this one is the more-or-less publised ‘Enjolras, Feuilly and the Great Roadtrip of 1832′ which still needs and epilogue, and so is technically unfinished.

witch WWX

...Is the working title of the technically still ongoing ‘Of Hats and Flutes’. Here’s an excerpt from a possible future chapter:

‘Here’s the thing though, and this is something I learned the hard way’ said Wei Wuxian ‘Presentation and reputation are double edged swords. See, when they send someone after you people took to calling Light-bringer Lord, that’s pretty impressive, right? You know you’re in it right up to your eyeballs. But since you know it, you have your guards up. No such thing when you’re facing down someone nicknamed Sweeper. And so you may not have the time to realise that you are in much, much bigger trouble.’

Once it was just the two of them left, Nanny added a hefty shot of brandy to her tea and nudged Granny.

‘Wonder which way he meant that little tirade. Did Lu Tze mop the floor with him, or was he just an example and he wanted to say he’s better off known as a lil’ village witch, and not for what he really is?’

Granny peered over the rim of her cup.

‘Both, I reckon.’

dumb villain

Answered! But here’s another excerpt:

Xie Lian was meditating on his own, among the ruins on Taicang Mountain. Ever since his amnesia incident, both him and Hua Cheng were trying to come up with a way that would allow him to keep his cultivation base while freely enjoying his marriage. Finally Xie Lian had some promising theories, though none were solid enough to put into practice yet. It was high time he worked out something though, because once again, he found himself with no spiritual power.

#eirenical #fixa writes #fanfic woes

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Text

Pearls For a Funeral by ElDiablito_SF

Pearls For a Funeral

by ElDiablito_SF

E, 31k, wangxian

Summary: Private investigator Wei Wuxian finds himself in a pickle when a family of rich socialites hires him to clear Lan Wangji's name after his new husband, Jin Guangshan, is found murdered during their honeymoon. Making Wei Wuxian's life more complicated is the fact that his former partner, Jiang Cheng, is the lead detective on the case. Not helping matters is the fact that it's not entirely clear that Lan Wangji did not, in fact, kill his husband. Peril is behind every corner and time is running out for our gumshoe to solve the case, save his beautiful client from death row, all while butting heads with the people closest to him.

My comments: Oh, I had so much fun with this. I love wwx being the sassy private dick who excels at poking his nose in, and lwj dripping pearls and Chanel and mystery, lqr angry and protective of his boys, nmj dejectedly stepping back, lxc being handsome and fluff-brained, jc snarling at the bit like always. Reads like a film, so it was easy to visualize as a Hollywood Noir while reading; and after setting the scene, the story moved very fast.

Excerpt 1: “Sir, I cannot interfere with an active police investigation.”

“Cockamamie!” Lan Qiren’s fist landed on the side table near his arm chair with a loud crack. “The police are investigating Wangji, I need you to investigate the actual killer.” Wei Wuxian inclined his head while the Admiral pulled something from the side table which Wei Wuxian quickly recognized for a checkbook. “You find the real killer, Mr. Wei, and you get that former partner of yours off my nephew’s ass,” he said as he wrote in his checkbook, avoiding Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “This is your retainer fee. We will spare no expense. It is imperative that Detective Jiang find himself a new suspect.”

Excerpt 2: "Anyways…" Wei Wuxian could hear the long inhale of Jiang Cheng's cigarette across the phone line. "So this goon, Su Minshan, also went by Su She. Has a rap sheet a mile long for racketeering and other petty crimes. No known associates in the system that I can find so far. I'll keep digging, something's gotta shake out eventually."

"No connections to the Lans?" Wei Wuxian asked carefully.

"Worried about your boyfriend, are you?"

"Fuck off."

"A fish like Lan Wangji is a little big for your hook, ain't he?"

"It's not the size of the hook that matters, Jiang Cheng, it's how you wiggle it."

"You're such a fucking idiot, I swear."

Excerpt 3: “As far as I recall. He wasn’t particularly memorable. Just a hanger-on. The Jins have so many, an entire army of sycophants and bootlickers. That creep who drove off a cliff? Seymour Yao? When Jin Guangshan was alive, you couldn’t have extricated that man’s head out of his ass.” [MianMian]

“Thanks for the titillating visual,” Wei Wuxian grimaced. “But this is very helpful, MianMian, you’re a treasure.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Wen Qing said, walking back up to them with a little tray of steaming tea cups. “By the way, Wei Wuxian, can Lan Wangji buy you a new tea kettle, or what? Yours is an embarrassment.”

“I’m not his kept man!”

“Actually, you are.”

“Actually, XianXian is his Uncle’s kept man,” MianMian added with a complacent grin.

“You’re both terrible and I can’t believe you have keys to my house. I’m under a sapphic assault.”

“I’ll get you the address for the Sapphic Complaint Department right away,” Wen Qing said with her usual deadpan delivery. Wei Wuxian adored his asshole friends.

noir au, case fic, 1940s san francisco, mystery, intrigue, private detective wei wuxian, rich socialite lan wangji, gumshoe wei wuxian, widower lan wangji, hurt wei wuxian, hurt/comfort, pining, humor, entertaining dialogue, getting together, falling in love, smut, sass gremlin wei wuxian, sass gremlin in a more subtle way lan wangji, mild wei wuxian whump, @jadedbirch

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pawsnread · 3 years

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Untamed Fall Fest Day 31: Wei Wuxian

For the last fest prompt, I present to you a snippet from a future chapter of On the Edge of a Knife featuring Qinghe Precinct’s chaotic detective/techie/hacker.

Qinghe Precinct was known for many things. It boosted a large force of some of the most honorable police officers. One would be hard pressed to find harder working and incorruptible cops in any other precinct.

But Qinghe did have one, teeny tiny exception.

“Is this a photo of the victim wearing an adult sized baby onesie?” Nie Zonghui asked, the incredulity obvious in his voice. Pausing in his scan of a file, Jiang Cheng glanced over Zonghui’s shoulder, his eyes rolling not-so-subtly before he turned back to his work.

“Yep,” Wei Wuxian said. He wiggled, settling more comfortably in the arm chair as he sipped loudly on a caffeinated drink. “Got that from some private eye files. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“He had a Cayman Island account?” Song Lan asked. “How? His apartment was modest; the most expensive thing he owned was probably his car, and that vehicle was a good ten years old.”

“He did a bit of insider trading years ago.”

“You didn’t just get his Cayman accounts. You also got his tax returns for the last ten years. Who did you call at the IRS for these? Which judge signed the warrant?”

“No one.” His boot heel settled on the coffee table with a thud. Wei Wuxian was not one for etiquette and pleasantries - not after almost seventy-two hours in front of his computer screens. He didn’t bother to hide his yawn as he ignored the Captain’s arched brow.

“How did you get all of this?” Nie Mingjue asked. He was the intimidating Captain, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, a glare on his face that had Song Lan, Zonghui, and Jiang Cheng unconsciously shuffling out of his line of sight - and they weren’t even the center of his attention.

Not one to be deterred, Wei Wuxian just shrugged before chucking his empty drink can into the trash basket next to the door. “If I don’t give you the details, then you have plausible deniability.”

“Which means he hacked something,” Jiang Cheng mumbled.

“Just a little jaunt down a rabbit hole or two.”

“Which means we can’t use any of it in court,” Song Lan surmised.

“You can, if you find out the same information legally,” Wei Wuxian reasoned.

“It won’t really matter.” All eyes turned to Zonghui, who was studying a photo of the victim having an intimate dinner. “The victim is in Dr. Xiao’s morgue, not on trial. We just need his background to see if there’s any unusual connections that might lead to him knowing the Candyman.”

“We still won’t be able to use it to bring the Candyman to trial,” Song Lan countered.

“Details details,” Wei Wuxian said, waving his hand in a nonchalant manner. “Worry about that later. Find the killer now. There’s already half a dozen bodies.”

“I don’t suppose you found a lead to finding the Candyman when you traveled down those rabbit holes?”

“What do I look like, Sherlock Holmes?” Wei Wuxian barely had a chance to duck the stress ball from Mingjue’s desk that Jiang Cheng lobbed at him.

“Are you not a detective?!” his brother shouted, drawing the attention - and a chuckle or two - from the squad room.

“Technically.” A grin stretched across his face as Wei Wuxian got to his feet and stretched. “And I’ve been on shift for three days. Do I have the Captain’s permission to take a few days off and sleep?”

Unable to bring himself to say a word, Mingjue issued an exasperated sigh before waving him away. Grin widening, Wei Wuxian gave a salute, clapping Jiang Cheng on the back as he made his way out of the office.

“I’ll tell Sis you’ll be late for dinner!” he yelled back, the elevator doors shutting and cutting off both Wei Wuxian’s laughter and Jiang Cheng’s curses.

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mdzsgildedfate · 3 years

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Gilded Fate - Chapter 3

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 3/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi

The early hours of the morning had been spent hiking along the river that flowed through the valley. MingYue and Gongzhu trailed along after Jin Ling as he briskly walked to and fro, following the guidance of a small, black compass. The needle spun back and forth, seeming to be drawn to two different sources. Jin Ling grumbled quietly to himself, too hushed for MingYue to understand anything he was saying.

By now, she was used to being kept in the dark by the older man. She stuck by him, watched after the dogs, carried bags, and assisted him however she could, but had long since learned that it was useless to try to ask him anything. He explained exactly as much as he wanted exactly when he wanted and there was nothing she could do but wait til that happened. Even after he’d led her halfway up the river, backtracked a mile or so, and then headed straight back the opposite direction, she kept quiet about it.

The compass, of course, was a spiritual tool made by Wei Wuxian to detect nearby evil. Half the time, the needle pointed back to Leng Shuang WeiFeng Temple, drawn to Song Lan’s Yin energy. The other half of the time, it led them deeper into the mountain, off the beaten trails and long abandoned roads. In the unfamiliar terrain, it was too easy to get turned around with the needle jumping back and forth, only serving to work Jin Ling’s temperament up.

“Damn this thing.” He hissed, slumping down onto a rock and slamming the box shut.

“What’s the matter?” MingYue asked, pouring water into a bowl for Gongzhu.

“Most renowned inventor of our time and couldn’t even make a compass that can differentiate between Yin energy and malicious intent.”

“Which one are we looking for?” MingYue sat down across from Jin Ling.

“Malicious intent, obviously. We’re not in the middle of nowhere to investigate harmless ghosts.”

“What are we investigating?”

Jin Ling gawked back at her. “Malicious intent. Obviously.”

MingYue pursed her lips into an irritated smile. “Obviously.”

By the time the sun had finally peaked over the mountain, the downward angle of the river had flattened out. At the end of it, the water collected into a small pond, filled with lotus plants. The stems sprung up, swaying gently in the breeze. Nothing seemed out of place or unusual about the area, but Gongzhu anxiously paced back and forth along the water’s edge. Jin Ling walked over to her and crouched, touching the surface of the pond with the tips of his fingers.

The river they followed was too wide and too deep to have such a small pond at its end. Although there was nothing especially interesting about the area itself, Jin Ling wondered about what lay beneath the surface of the pond. He reasoned the water had to be going somewhere. Without a word of explanation, Jin Ling shed his sword, bow, and quiver and began stripping the outer layers of his robes.

“Going swimming?” MingYue asked, an amused smile on her face.

“Yes. Stay here. Keep an eye on Gongzhu.”

With the excess fabrics folded neatly on the ground, Jin Ling strode into the water, clenching his teeth at the low temperature. Once he was in up to his waist, he bent his knees and ducked under the surface. Unfortunately, the water was too murky to see much, causing Jin Ling to have to search about the bottom with his hands. They brushed over mud and plant roots, the occasional rock, but nothing that indicated where the water was draining. After a while, he had to come back up.

He paused, treading water, for a moment in frustration before swimming back to shore. He reached into the pile of clothes and pulled the compass back out, eyes glued to the needle as he turned around slowly. Walking up along one side of the pond and then the other, the needle stayed pointing past the water, deeper into the woods. He huffed and closed the compass again, putting his hands on his hips and glared out into the trees.

“What’s next, boss?”

A moment of silence passed and Jin Ling slumped to the ground, sitting in lotus position. “Lunch. We’ll continue on in forty-five minutes.”

~X~

As soon as morning light poured into the valley and illuminated the temple, Sizhui and Jingyi began strolling from room to room to wake the students, herding them into the courtyard Donning their Lan Sect robes at an early hour to walk the halls of a temple had invigorated the two, their liveliness and bright energy served only to agitate the bleary-eyed teens. Once everyone was accounted for and seated at individual low tables, the Lan disciples joined Song Lan in dishing out bowls of rice for breakfast.

Xinyi kept his eyes glued to Song Lan, the events of the previous night playing in his mind. Xiao Xingchen had come out of his own volition, yet Song Lan acted as though Xinyi had snuck into his room and dragged him outside, kicking and screaming. He looked around the courtyard, unsurprised to see that Xingchen was nowhere to be seen. As Sizhui came around with his breakfast, Xinyi grabbed the end of his sleeve and gave a gentle tug.

“Jiaoshou. Song Lan Daozhang mentioned another priest that lives here, why haven’t we seen him yet?” Xinyi asked, trying to sound impartial to the matter.

Sizhui’s features twitched for a second before softening out, regaining whatever composure he’d momentarily lost.

“I’m sure he just likes his privacy. He’ll likely join us later in the day. It’s common to observe private meditation in the early morning.”

Xinyi gave a shrug and turned his attention to his breakfast, saying a quick thank you before eating.

The morning meal passed in silence, everyone either too hungry or too tired to acknowledge each other’s existence as they ate. Afterwards, Song Lan explained the schedule for the day, which seemed to just be one boring lecture after another about Taoist theologies, principles, and mannerisms. Xinyi could already feel his brain leaking out of his ears from boredom. The only thing that held his interest through the first lecture was the sight of his two, boring anthropology teachers dressed regally in white robes, accented with clouds, carrying matching blue and silver swords.

It really was a sight to behold. Compared to their usual looks, in black slacks, white button-ups, and cardigans that made them look like old men, they were both quite handsome. Jingyi still had a look of irritable anticipation, but they both seemed more at ease here than in the lecture halls. They moved gracefully with their robes billowing around them, while the students stumbled about clumsily, tangled up in the excess fabric. Such a unique display almost made listening to Song Lan’s boring, droning voice worth it.

Almost. As soon as their first break was announced, Xinyi grabbed Chen and QianHua by their collars and dragged them out the front gate. The three boys tumbled down the gentle slope to where the river cut through and stripped off the outer layers of their clothes. Now bursting with energy from sitting still through the lecture, the valley quickly filled with the sounds of three college students shouting and splashing in the river.

“Is this really what we have to sit through for the next six days? That was worse than anything Sizhui Jiaoshou put us through.” QianHua groaned, collecting rocks to throw back into the water.

“I hate agreeing with you…” Chen picked up a fallen branch to stabilize himself against the current. “But I agree with you. I thought we were gonna tour a big temple and look at old art and swords and-”

“Hey, fuck you Chen!” Xinyi picked up a clump of mud and hurled it at Chen. “You always say the art and swords at my house are creepy, but you wanted to come out to the middle of nowhere to look at someone else’s?”

“The art at your house is of ghosts and demons and battles.” Chen replied, smoothly dodging the mud clump. “And your swords are haunted.”

“My swords are not haunted.” Xinyi rolled his eyes, wading further down the river. “You’re so superstitious.”

Abandoning the other two to their conversation, Xinyi pulled a sharp-looking stick out of the water and crept down to the formation of rocks that hung over the edge of the water, eyes downcast in search of fish. Once he had one in his sights, the world disappeared around him, his focus narrowing in on this one objective. The fish flicked back and forth, darting ahead and pausing just long enough for Xinyi to get within range, then darted forward again.

He hadn’t even noticed he’d gone around the rocks and out of Chen and QianHua’s view when a voice jolted him back to reality. The fish bolted this time, disappearing into the darker parts of the river. Xinyi spat, straightening up and perching his stick over one shoulder. He whipped around to see which of the two had disrupted his hunt, shocked to see a soft, glowing face staring back at him.

“Oh! It’s you!” Xinyi grinned, sticking his tongue out between the two sharp teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“Hunting fish is prohibited in Leng Shuang WeiFeng.” Xingchen said cooly.

The man sat along the rocks, one leg hanging over casually, swinging back and forth so the bottom of his shoes just barely grazed the top of the water. He had one hand behind him, holding him up, and the other draped across a sword sheathed in white with an intricate silver accent. His expression was indifferent, as though Xinyi was just a part of the riverview.

“Who said I was hunting fish?”

The corner of Xingchen’s mouth twitched up. “What were you doing, if not hunting fish?”

Xinyi shrugged. “Practicing my swordplay?”

“Is that why you skipped my Daozhang’s lecture?”

The smile disappeared off Xinyi’s face. “Who says I skipped it? You’re not there either.”

Xingchen straightened up, letting his other leg hang over the side of the rocks now. “Would it be more interesting if I were?”

“Mm…. Perhaps.” Xinyi let the hand holding the stick drop down, swinging casually at his side as he took a few strides about the river. “I think it’s more interesting out here with you.”

Xingchen held his gaze quietly for a while as though he was thinking, as if Xinyi’s words had been infinitely more interesting than they had been. His fingers drumbed along the top of his sword, tapping rhythmically to some beat only he could hear. After a moment, he lept off his perch and slipped gracefully down to the edge of the water, walking along the shore until only a few feet remained between him and Xinyi.

“Why such an interest in me?” Xingchen asked, cocking his head slightly, though his eyes narrowed at Xinyi.

“Interest?” Xinyi smirked, taking a step forward.

Xingchen grew rigid, his jaw clenching.

Xinyi paused, scratching his thumbnail into the stick, frowning slightly. “Maybe I could ask you the same thing. You’re the one that followed me outside last night.”

“Hm…” The man looked down for a moment, considering the younger’s words. “I was surprised.”

“Surprised? Did no one tell you we were coming?”

“No one told me you were coming.”

Xinyi blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Although the man had elicited some strange feeling of nostalgia, he hadn’t really seemed familiar- but now Xinyi questioned if they’d met in the past. Staring hard at the white-clad man, studying his features in the sunlight, the only thing that came to mind was that he looked startlingly like the figure he frequently saw in his dreams.

“Have we… Do you know me somehow?” The younger man cast a glance to the side, checking if Chen or QianHua had come searching for him yet.

Xingchen returned the question with a small, sweet smile. “We’ll see.”

Xinyi smirked, a shiver running down his spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The priest said nothing in response, simply held his gaze a moment longer, still smiling, and turned to follow the river back up to the temple. Xinyi let out an unsure laugh, baffled by the situation. His heart fluttered in his chest and a buzz of energy sent him into a jittery flurry, half-running through the water back to where Chen and QianHua were. The resulting splash of his arrival drew their attention, the boys splashing back and hurling lighthearted insults.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Chen called, balling up a handful of mud.

“I was following a fish.” He replied, twirling his stick between his fingers.

“A fish?” QianHua scoffed. “You’ve been gone all this time following a fish?”

Xinyi shrugged, looking down into the water. “It was a really pretty fish.”

~X~

Jingyi looked absolutely starstruck, moving slowly through the room alongside Sizhui and Song Lan. The walls were adorned with intricate, hand crafted tapestries depicting iconic landmarks of Gusu, Lanling, Qinghe, Yunmeng, and Qishan. To the students in the room, they were unfamiliar paintings of made-up mountains and cities, but the skill put into them was appreciated nonetheless.

Song Lan made quiet commentary as the group gazed at each tapestry. Since it was impossible to explain the places depicted, he stuck to explaining the techniques used to create each piece, how old they were, interesting quips about how he acquired them, and small details about the kinds of plants or clouds the scenes contained. Despite all the priceless details Song Lan gave about the others, Jingyi couldn’t take his eyes off the painting of Gusu.

Sizhui came to stand beside him, his hand brushing against Jingyi’s. “Feeling nostalgic?”

“It’s hard not to.” He replied, tightening his grip on his sword. “For all the bitching and groaning I did back then… I’d go back if I could.”

Sizhui looked over the painting, quickly identifying the mountain where Cloud Recesses sat. “What do you miss the most?”

Jingyi was silent for a moment. “Not the food, of course.”

Sizhui laughed, quickly stifling it and glancing around.

Jingyi gave him an amused look. “Worried HanGuang-Jun might scold you for making noise?”

“I’ll never shake the instinct.” He replied, still chuckling lightly.

“What do you think he’s doing right now?”

Sizhui hummed thoughtfully, taking in a deep breath and turning from the painting to move on to the next.

“Probably the same thing he always did. Play his guqin. Read the same academic literature he’s already read a hundred times. Desecrate the sanctity of his headband by using it to tie up Wei Wuxian.”

Jingyi’s eyes widened in horror, immediately looking around to make sure none of their students overheard the conversation. Once he was sure no one was paying attention to him, he jabbed his elbow into Sizhui’s ribs, practically knocking him over. After he regained his balance, Sizhui looked at Jingyi incredulously and shoved him back, quickly looking around as well. Being childhood friends and companions for over 8,000 years didn’t change the deeply ingrained Lan etiquette, or the need to remain respectable in front of their students.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Jingyi muttered under his breath, leading the parade of teens back into the hall.

“Had you forgotten about it?” Sizhui asked, a small smirk refusing to fade from his lips.

“Yes! With much effort! Now I have to forget all over again!”

“Maybe I can tweak your memory a bit.” Sizhui reached his hand up behind Jingyi and tugged on the ends of his headband.

“A-Yuan!” He yelped involuntarily, loud enough this time to garner the attention of the four or five students closest to him. He clapped a hand over his mouth and shot a horrified look at Sizhui. “We’re in public!”

“Just be glad Jin Ling isn’t here.” Sizchui snickered.

The comment stopped Jingyi dead in his tracks, his blood running cold as their band of children continued past him, laughing amongst themselves at whatever funny expression the professor had on his face. Only the questioning look of Song Lan kicked him back into gear, deciding it was safer to remain at the back of the group with the black-robed cultivator instead.

The next room contained a number of assorted artifacts, displayed on tables, the walls, and in display cases. The wall opposite the entrance was covered in decorative fans, some looking so old they might disintegrate if you tried to touch them. A table along the left wall had a collection of heavy books who’s pages were sewn together with thick threads. Display cases standing throughout the room held hand-painted vases, golden hair ornaments, and objects only the cultivators in the room could recognize as spiritual tools.

The right hand wall was adorned with a display case that spanned from the floor to the ceiling. Each shelf held a sword, some displayed on their own, others still in their sheathes. Song Lan watched cautiously as Xinyi approached the shelf, looking over each of the swords with sparkling eyes. With his lips curled up in a smile that showed off sharp canines, it was impossible to quell the feeling of needles crawling up his neck.

“Daozhang, why are some of these swords missing their sheathes?” Xinyi asked, jolting Song Lan from his thoughts.

Stepping forward to look the shelves over, he spoke without looking at Xinyi. “My fellow Daozhang and I recovered these swords over a course of many years, from many different sources. Many of them had been relics of war, picked off battlefields and kept as trophies. In those cases, the sheathes were not found with them.”

Xinyi nodded, humming thoughtfully. “What about this one?”

Song Lan followed the boy’s outstretched finger to the sword in the bottom left shelf. “Mm… What about it?”

He squatted down to be at eye level with the blade. “Do you know the names of the swords? Who they belonged to? What about this one?”

“That sword belonged to a very evil man.” Song Lan replied, his gaze piercing through Xinyi. “It’s name is JiangZai.”

Xinyi laughed and stood up. “I guess that’s a fitting name then.”

“Indeed.”

“Where’d you find that one?” Xinyi looked up at Song Lan now, a childishly innocent joy in his eyes.

“...”

“Daozhang?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t the one that tracked it down.” With that, Song Lan turned away to stand beside Jingyi.

~X~

Xinyi threw himself down onto his bed with a huff, folding his arms behind his head and glaring up at the ceiling. Chen was to his left, laying on his stomach with his chin propped up on one hand. His roommate’s eyes burned holes through him, but Xinyi ignored him a moment longer, still fuming about his exchange with Song Lan.

“What the fuck is his problem?” He growled finally, sitting up abruptly.

Chen laughed. “There it is. What happened this time?”

Xinyi threw his arms up angrily. “I was just asking questions about the swords! He doesn’t look at anyone else like that- it’s like he hates me already. What did I do that was so wrong?”

Chen stayed silent, only shrugging in response.

“He looked about ready to stab me when I asked about that one sword- JiangHui? Whatever. He said he wasn’t even the one that collected that sword, why act so sour about it?”

Xinyi slumped back again, tugging his blanket up over him.

“Maybe it’s a sensitive topic.” Chen suggested. “If the other Daozhang brought it back, maybe Song Lan didn’t want him to.”

“That sword’s gotta be hundreds of years old, at least! How could it be so personal?”

Chen extinguished the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. “Could be a family feud thing. Like maybe that sword killed a bunch of his ancestors or something.”

Xinyi didn’t respond, just rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Having been up since the crack of dawn, and the exertion spent playing in the river with Chen and QianHua, it didn’t take long for sleep to take him. Even on the hard floor mat beds, his muscles relaxed right away and the day’s events melted away. In his dreams, Xinyi saw himself holding that sword. It swung about with ease, feeling perfectly balanced in his grasp.

Through the dark, distant screams could be heard. Just a few at first, but quickly joined by dozens. Men… women… even children… their horrible screams burned his ears. The feeling of hot, slick blood rushed around his hands and crept up his arms. He could feel it dripping down his face like sweat. The darkness slowly began to clear, black smoke dissipating from his vision.

The people the screams belonged to rushed back and forth in front of him, fear guiding their steps. The man nearest to him stumbled over his own feet, falling to the ground hard, his face bouncing off the stone flooring. Blood rushed from the wound that had split across his cheek, streaming down his jaw as he whipped around to face some invisible foe, only to be slammed back again.

The heart in his chest pounded painfully, it’s pace too fast. Fear gurgled in his throat, but when he opened his mouth to scream, only blood poured out. Why was it always this way? Why was he always covered in blood? He looked down, surprised to see that the hand that was usually bashed and broken had healed. The pinky finger was missing, but the wound had long since scarred over.

Looking up again, the compound had been replaced with a dusty, white road. Either side was lined with run down shops, their paper windows worn and ripped. The only other person in the whole town was the white-robed figure ahead, his back facing him. He begged his feet to move, to let him walk over and see the face of this ghost. The harder he pushed his muscles to work, the slower they moved. He’d barely taken two steps when the figure fell to his knees, wavering for a moment before collapsing onto the ground.

An overwhelming sense of dread and despair washed over him, gripping his heart... his throat... choking him…

Xinyi sat up with a gasp, sucking air in as though he’d really been choking. Struggling to disentangle himself from his blanket, he climbed to his feet and rushed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Not knowing where he was going and despite still being out of breath, he flew down the hall, not stopping until he was sure he was far away from where everyone else was sleeping.

He threw himself against a wall and slid down to the floor, letting out a heavy sob and burying his face in his hands. The dream had already begun fading from his mind, but the emotion it’d brought on was crushing. Even after it lessened, he sobbed on in frustration. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night and he couldn't understand why he was having such horrible nightmares. It felt like he was losing his mind, and Song Lan's glaring and Xiao Xingchen's riddles weren't helping.

~X~

Nothing quite matched the irritability that came from an unsuccessful night-hunt. Long after Jin Ling had sent MingYue back to the temple, he'd remained in the woods, scouring the area surrounding the pond. He used every trick he could think of to locate the source of the weird energy he kept picking up on, but every time he seemed to be getting closer, it vanished and reappeared somewhere else. Around midnight, Wuxian's compass gave up and just started spinning wildly. That had been the final straw that sent Jin Ling stomping back to the temple.

Beyond exhausted, spiritual energy running low, and mood soured, all Jin Ling could think about was collapsing into his bed and passing out. The thought was sounding better and better as he trudged down the hallways to his room. With that acting as a distraction, it took him longer than it should have to process the soft sniffles and occasional stuttered cry that echoed off the walls. His muscles froze, ears straining to study the noise and determine where it was coming from.

Eyes narrowed, sword unsheathed, Jin Ling walked slowly down the hall, preparing himself for a sobbing, bleeding ghost to appear in front of him at any moment. Instead, when he turned the corner, all he was greeted by was the shocked, soggy face of Xue Yang.

No.

Wang Xinyi.

This was Sizhui and Jingyi's student. This problem could not be solved with talismans. Or his sword. He sheathed it quickly, regaining a dignified composure, although looking quite awkward. Jin Ling had never been good at comforting others. Or being in their presence when they cried. He wondered if Sizhui would scold him if he simply pretended he hadn't seen Xinyi and walked away. He glanced down the hall, then back at Xinyi, down at the floor, and then straight ahead.

"It's the middle of the night, what are you doing crying out here? It's barely been two days, you can't be homesick yet." Jin Ling's voice was as curt as ever, lined with an ever present tone of annoyance learned from Jiang Cheng.

Xinyi sniffed, also refusing to look at the other man. "It's nothing."

Jin Ling shot a look at Xinyi, annoyed that the boy would dare to drag this out with formalities. "It's not nothing. Men don't cry over nothing. Say it directly or don't cry at all!"

Xinyi looked up at Jin Ling, baffled by the harsh words. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Why else do people cry out in the night?" Xinyi asked, standing up and dusting himself off. "Just a nightmare. It’s nothing."

Jin Ling met his gaze now, staring him down. "What nightmare?"

The younger man shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "Just a nightmare. I don't remember now."

Xinyi turned to leave, but Jin Ling stepped around him quickly, blocking his path. One hand grasped the hilt of his sword tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

"How often do you have nightmares?" He demanded, his presence boring down on Xinyi.

"Are you gonna stab me if I give the wrong answer?"

Jin Ling's eye twitched, having long run out of patience from using that damn compass. "How often? And don't lie, I'll be able to tell."

Xinyi huffed, but wasn't interested in dragging it on any longer. This man was uncomfortable, annoying, and most importantly, a complete fucking stranger- no one knew why he was even here or how he knew the Lan professors.

"Every night."

Jin Ling's eyes widened for a second. "For how long?"

"A year."

The cultivator practically choked at the answer. "A year? Every single night for a year?! How are you-"

He paced back and forth a few times, the gears spinning in his head as he processed the answer. Usually reincarnated souls only had nightly dreams from their past lives for a handful of months before either awakening or losing their mind completely. Not only had Xinyi been having nightmares, but he'd been having them for a year! It was a miracle he hadn't snapped and gone on a killing spree yet!

Jin Ling stopped abruptly and faced Xinyi again. "You've had these dreams for a year. Surely you remember enough to tell me what they're usually about, even if you supposedly don't remember the one you had tonight."

Xinyi tried to move passed him again. "Sir… why is this importa-."

Jin Ling stepped in front of him again. "Because it is!"

He frowned, his eyebrow twitching angrily. "I don't know! Getting hurt in some horrible way, watching people die, being followed by this creepy ghost girl…. And sometimes there's this person I'm trying to get to but I can't move."

"Person? What person?"

Xinyi shrugged. "Some person. A dream person I guess."

Jin Ling finally released the hilt of his sword and swept the sleeves of his robe out to clasp his hands behind his back.

"It's late. Go back to bed."

Without another word, Jin Ling turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Xinyi gaping after him.

"Everyone here is out of their goddamn minds." He hissed, finally heading back to his room.

#mdzs #the untamed #xue yang #xiao xingchen #song lan #xuexiao #junior disciples #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #mdzs fic

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

Text

Fur and Feathers

So, a Shifter AU. I’ll probably dip into this verse quite a bit. This is part 1 of XiCheng, pre-relationship (at the Cloud Recesses) and setting it up for the later parts of their story and relationship. There’ll definitely be some Wangxian to be written here as well as more XiCheng. Throw your requests at me if you want to see other’s etc and I’ll see if I can fit them into the verse. It wasn’t touched on for the purpose of this fic but LXC is a mountain hawk-eagle, I love how this fits because many of the pictures I’ve seen have the MHE having a tufty cluster of feathers on their head which is similar to the ornament LXC wears in the live action version.

Title taken from Jordan L Hawke’s hexworld series where the animal familiars tend to use “fur and feathers” as a curse/exclamation, because I’m not very creative with titles.

3.4k of cats being cats. Crack, probably?

XiCheng Part 1

Why had he let Wei Wuxian talk him into this? Jiang Cheng thought in despair as his sleek, black-furred body slipped urgently from deep shadow to shadow, trying to avoid the Lan Sect disciples who he could hear follow behind with their light, even steps. He panicked, crouched low to the ground in the lee of a bush and looked around for any escape.

There, there was a door that was still open to the cool night air.

He put everything he had into his legs and made a dash for the doorway.

The Lan disciples spotted the form of deeper shadow moving in the darkness of the night, but as he made the door he heard one of them stop the other, “You know we can’t enter the Hanshi, Zewu-jun will have to deal with whatever it is...”

Zewu-jun! Lan Xichen! Oh fuck. His claws scrabbled to gain purchase on the wooden floor.

He had to get out of the Hanshi, now, at all costs. He’d rather face the two chasing disciples than Lan Xichen, with him vulnerable in this form.

He had just altered his momentum and changed direction for the opened doorway again, when he felt gentle hands catch him around the ribcage and lift him up.

He yowled in outrage; take your hands off of me, how dare you ruffle my beautiful, sleek fur.

“Calm down, little one” the gentle, melodious voice was of course the First Jade of Lan’s; he was in so much trouble, “What a beautiful little thing you are. I wonder where you came from. None of the new students are registered as cat shifters”

That was his mother’s fault, Madam Yu Ziyuan was mortally embarrassed her male child, instead of a majestic king cat like his tigress sister, or even a sturdy, protective dog breed like his “useless” Samoyed father, had dared to be born a domestic cat shifter. You just couldn’t trust genetics.

He hissed at the sudden movement as Lan Xichen lifted him, and he wanted to dig a hole to bury himself when he realised the other was checking his bits to determine his sex.

I will scratch your insolent eyes out, shameless creature, he howled his rage, claws flexing impotently at the end of his delicate paws.

“There, there” he was folded into the other’s arms, “such a beautiful little boy” a soft finger scratched gently at his head.

No, please, no, no, no. This was bad…

The finger moved down the scruff of his neck and hit the point directly between his slender shoulder blades.

Nooooo.

He couldn’t stop the gentle rumble that began deep in his chest as Lan Xichen rubbed at one of the spots that was guaranteed to coax his purr from him.

He wanted to dig that hole even deeper as the sound of contentment and pleasure rolled from him in waves. Like most shifters sometimes his instincts were stronger than his ability to suppress them, and sometimes Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but want to curl up in someone’s lap and be stroked like the precious baby his animal was.

Wei Wuxian loved to tease him about it. But then what did Wei Wuxian not like to tease anyone about?

He couldn’t complain too much as Wei Wuxian, his adopted brother and Jiang Yanli, his elder sister, were the only two people he could really ask to provide such a service on demand.

“That’s such a lovely sound” Lan Xichen complimented him, keeping up the fusses that caused it, perpetuating Jiang Cheng’s internal conflict.

Lan Xichen moved over to the table that contained a half-used tea set, and sat down, with Jiang Cheng in his lap.

It turned out the only shameless thing was himself, as he curled up, nose under tail, and let his animal take complete control.

It was much later that evening when Jiang Cheng stirred himself; he really ought to think about escaping and returning back to Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, who would no doubt be enjoying their smuggled Emperor’s Smile, safely achieved due to Jiang Cheng’s drawing the patrolling Lan disciples away.

He rose to four paws and stretched lazily, but as he looked up into the delicate, handsome face of the first Jade of Lan, he caught such a look of melancholy and sadness he was shocked into stillness.

Lan Xichen seemed to come back from his thoughts, and the look vanished, as he realised the black cat had moved.

“Did you have a nice nap, xiao-Zizi?”

Little Purple, because of the unusual colour of his eyes in cat form.

Even though he had banished the sadness from his face there was an aura that clung to him, and Jiang Cheng’s soft heart, which he kept buried deeply under layers or sarcasm, anger and a pretence of not caring, thrummed in sympathy.

He swallowed every ounce of pride he possessed, then stretched his claws up so he stood on his back paws, with his front on the shoulder of Lan Xichen’s robes, then he rubbed his cheek against Lan Xichen’s. This was usually a cat’s way of marking it’s family, but it was also very cute and guaranteed to make a gentle soul like Lan Xichen smile.

It did, and Jiang Cheng mewled in approval as the other’s mouth curved gently.

He considered his role fulfilled, and jumped down from Lan Xichen’s lap with the intention of leaving. Except there was a tassel. It was attached to the jade pendant hanging from Lan Xichen’s belt.

Instincts again took him as he leapt forward to catch it under his front paws, claws digging into the threads and robes.

His cat’s body, like his human body, was just reaching the end of childhood; it was all gangly legs and too-big paws and playfulness, and it was a lot harder to stop his kitten’s urge to play than it was his human’s; where he was expected to show a much higher level of maturity.

Instead of the telling off he expected Lan Xichen merely chuckled and actually began to tease him with the tassel, allowing him to chase and pounce and hunt, butt-wiggle and all. He even detached it from the pendant and tossed it across the room to watch as the leggy young cat scrabbled over to enact a killing pounce.

By the end of their playtime Jiang Cheng was so exhausted that when Lan Xichen went to sleep he also curled up on the other’s chest, uncaring of the impropriety because he was a cat, and cats didn’t care about rules. It also meant he got extra fusses, which cats, despite their sometimes cold demeanours, did care about.

***

He had hugely miscalculated, Jiang Cheng realised as he woke up the next morning alone and curled with his nose under his tail on Lan Xichen’s bed.

It wasn’t much after five in the morning, but classes began soon, and he had to make his way back across the Cloud Recesses, without the security of night shadows the colour of his fur, to hide in.

He stretched, then slunk out of the Hanshi’s door to assess his trip.

It was misty and cool and there was dew everywhere; he was going to hate this. Unless he turned back to his human form. Honestly he was ready to let his cat instincts lie for a while now anyway; they had been given free reign far too much the previous evening, and if his mother found out he would be in serious trouble.

But his human form provided far too many other complications, like explaining what a visiting disciple was doing in the first young lord of Lan’s private sanctum, and the fact he was neither stealthy nor small enough to evade detection in it.

His cat would just have to suck it up and travel through the dew-strewn morning.

He matched actions to thoughts and eventually arrived safely back at their lodgings.

Wei Wuxian scooped him up as he opened the door to Jiang Cheng’s scratching.

“Where have you been? We were just about to start combing the entire Cloud Recesses for you” Wei Wuxian set him down on his bed, and gave him the space to return to his human form.

Which he did with a deep sigh of relief.

“I was trapped in the Hanshi, with Lan Xichen. I had to stay a cat or I’d have been in so much trouble. Sometimes I suppose A-Niang’s refusal to acknowledge that I’m a cat shifter has it’s uses” he tried to make a joke of it, as he always did, but it never cut him any less that he was a disappointment to his family on something he had absolutely no control over at all.

His mother always registered his shifter form as a Xiasi hound.

Wei Wuxian held his tongue on that subject.

Nie Huaisang, who had become firm friends with the two Yunmeng boys during their first few days in Gusu, fluttered his fan nervously, “You spent the night in Lan Xichen’s rooms?”

“I was being chased by two Lan Disciples, and I ducked through the nearest door. They didn’t follow me into the Hanshi. But Lan Xichen was there, so I couldn’t get away. I had to cat”

“I would have paid to have seen you acting all cute with the First Jade of Lan” Wei Wuxian grinned, enormously entertained by the thought, “But we can’t let him find out it was you” he agreed. “You should get changed, we’ll be late for class”

“I need to bathe” really, the only thing that ruled Jiang Cheng’s world in both forms was his rigorous personal hygiene routine. He would rather die than cut it short in any way.

Wei Wuxian was fully aware of what Jiang Cheng was like and had kept a bath drawn for him.

“It will be cold, sorry, be quick, you’ll draw attention to yourself if you’re late” Wei Wuxian informed him as he moved to the door with Nie Huaisang in tow.

“I know, I’ll be done as soon as possible”

The other two left him to his toilette as he began shedding robes.

***

Carefully groomed he made it just in time to slip into the classroom and kneel at his desk before Lan Qiren and his eldest nephew, Lan Xichen arrived.

They found out immediately what Lan Xichen’s attendance was for; Jiang Cheng should have known he wouldn’t let the sudden, unexplained appearance of a cat lie.

Under the pretence of checking their administration they questioned if there were any cat shifters present as someone had thought they might have seen one the previous evening.

Jiang Cheng lowered his gaze, hiding his flush with the fall of his hair, and Wei Wuxian, being Wei Wuxian, decided to distract the room.

“Are they sure it wasn’t a sable, Lan-gongzi? I’m a sable, look at how cute I am” and he slipped into his animal form and dashed to the front of the classroom and onto the desk to show off his cuteness.

The rest of the classroom of course found this greatly amusing, and even Lan Xichen smiled a little.

“Yes, thank you Wei-gongzi, for the demonstration” he picked Wei Wuxian up and returned him to his own desk, more to protect the younger man from his uncle’s ire than any other reason, and Wei Wuxian returned to his human form.

“See, I look a lot like a cat, right?” Wei Wuxian asked with a huge smile; one that got him out of trouble with Jiang Cheng’s father every time.

“I’ll bear that in mind, Wei-gongzi” Lan Xichen left soon afterwards, having received no further clue as to the identity of his night time visitor.

***

He was returning from the library pavilion late the following evening when Jiang Cheng stumbled upon the Two Jades of Lan, who were strolling towards the Lan living areas in the soft moonlight; and Jiang Cheng caught the tail end of their conversation.

“How are you and Wei-gongzi getting along, Wangji?”

What had Jiang Cheng missed?

Apparently whatever it was, Lan Wangji had also missed it.

“Xiongzhang, I don’t understand? Wei Wuxian and I have no interaction outside of uncle’s classroom. He’s frivolous, careless, and irreverent. He also makes my nose twitch”

“That would be your inner rabbit” there was a small smile in Lan Xichen’s voice, “You should try to make more friends your own age while we have so many young cultivators here at the Cloud Recesses, Wangji, Wei-gongzi’s personality is a little trying, I’ll grant you, but he has a large heart, and he’s very personable. He would balance out your more reserved personality, and vice versa. Friendships often work best when opposites attract”

There was a soft “hmph” from the younger Jade, and the sound of gravel underfoot quickened, indicating Lan Wangji walked away from his elder brother, who chuckled softly.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t meant to spy on them, but the moment he had heard Wei Wuxian being talked of he had assumed his cat form and followed the two Jades from the shadows, ensuring he was on hand if Wei Wuxian’s reputation needed protecting. Lan Xichen had spoken nothing if not the truth, however, so now Jiang Cheng found himself left alone in the shadows near the elder Lan sibling.

He was about to stealth away when he noticed the other look up at the stars briefly. That melancholic aura surrounded him again, and Jiang Cheng was caught between following his first intention of leaving, or making himself known and trying to cheer up the elder Jade.

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t his responsibility; everyone had their own worries to carry in this world, and Lan Xichen’s were nothing to do with him.

It would have been useful if he ever listened to his own good advice.

Instead he slunk out of the shadows and pressed against Lan Xichen’s ankles.

***

Thus began nights of his sneaking off to provide whatever comfort and distraction he could to the Lan Sect heir.

He didn’t allow himself to be caught out like on the first morning though, and around the change of a day he would slink away back to his rooms, sometimes to find Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang engaged in drinking, which he would join them in.

Wei Wuxian began talking quite a lot about Lan Wangji, especially in his cups and Jiang Cheng couldn’t help thinking about the conversation he had overheard between the Lan siblings.

From what Wei Wuxian said it seemed Lan er-gongzi was as unreceptive of the advances Wei Wuxian made as he had been when Lan Xichen had suggested to Lan Wangji that he try to make friends.

Really Jiang Cheng wasn’t surprised; he loved Wei Wuxian like a brother, (if he was pushed on the matter and forced to admit his feelings), but he wasn’t blind to the fact Wei Wuxian was an acquired taste, and one his own palate wasn’t fully inured to on occasion.

It continued so for some weeks.

Until one night he was guilted into staying with Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang after the former had made a successful trip down the mountain to obtain Emperor’s Smile.

Although Wei Wuxian had a high tolerance for alcohol it did loosen his tongue, and he began complaining.

“You don’t mark us as much anymore” there was a definite pout in his voice, and Jiang Cheng started. He referred of course to the rub of a cheek against family and close friends Jiang Cheng used to scent people as his social group.

“Yes I do. As much as I can get away with here in Gusu, I can’t do it as freely as at Lotus Pier Wei Wuxian, you know what would happen to me if mother found out I let the cat out of the bag”

Wei Wuxian found his choice of idiom hilarious and laughed heartily, while Nie Huaisang waved his fan at Wei Wuxian, urging him to be quiet less they be discovered.

Then he did quieten, “No you don’t, and you never want to stay and drink with us, and Huaisang has such amazing pornography too. All you want to do is sneak away to be with Lan Xichen” the size of the pout in his voice had increased at least threefold.

He supposed he couldn’t deny he had spent most of the past weeks playing therapy animal in the Hanshi.

“Wei Wuxian, don’t be like that…”

“You give him all my fusses, you haven’t wanted to curl up in my lap since we got here. I’m your brother, I have a right!”

The last sentence was spoken at the same time as Jiang Cheng said: “Wei Wuxian…” and a third voice from the doorway added to the cacophony.

“So it was you” Lan Xichen, summoned to catch them drinking by a patrolling disciple, had walked in at the perfect point in the conversation to finally find out who the mysterious cat who visited him most nights was.

He sounded enraged.

“I would love to know what kind of silly entertainment you all took from your little scheme, but...well, never mind”

“It wasn’t entertainment” Jiang Cheng jumped to his feet, his panic dissipating into anger. His gesture had been meant as nothing but kindness, even enacted under the cloak of secrecy, and he didn’t feel he deserved such censure.

“That’s quite enough, Jiang-gongzi, you will all be punished in the morning for the rules you have broken. I feel I should write to the Council of Elders and inform them you’re misrepresenting yourself on shifter registers, too”

That threat cut deeper than any other Lan Xichen could have made, and Jiang Cheng’s already ashen complexion went a shade paler.

“You can’t, you don’t understand…”

“I said that’s enough” and the first Jade of Lan turned and left.

***

Jiang Cheng stayed only long enough to receive his punishment the following morning, then set out back to Yunmeng to enact damage control and explain to Madam Yu that her falsifying of his shifter records might be brought to light.

She was enraged, and Jiang Cheng didn’t think there was a safe space in the world for him at that moment. If he wasn’t reminded constantly what a fool he had been by his mother, he was reminded by his own memories and Lan Xichen’s anger.

He could only stay out of her way; hiding for the most part with Jiang Yanli.

His sister kept him sane, giving him the sympathy and protection he so desperately needed at the moment.

Wei Wuxian wrote shortly after his return, to inform him he had spoken rather sharply on his behalf to Lan Xichen, explaining his motivations, that it definitely hadn’t been for the purposes of entertainment at the first Jade’s expense.

He had also begged the other to not write to the Council of Elders, explaining it wasn’t Jiang Cheng’s choice, nor fault, that he was falsely registered on all his shifter documentation.

A while later he received a second letter. The cloud seal, and elegant script suggested it might be from Lan Xichen. His childish first instinct was to burn it immediately, unread. He was still bitter the other hadn’t given him a chance to explain, and had had him punished for a kindness.

But he also wanted vindication.

Eventually the second motivation won out and he read it.

It wasn’t quite the full exoneration he had wanted. But the Lan Sect heir did apologise for reacting as he had, so immediately and without allowing Jiang Cheng to offer any defence on his own behalf.

Lan Xichen informed him he wouldn’t write to the Council, and that he would keep his secret on that issue given the circumstances.

Lan Xichen did still blame him for being so secretive about his identity, and said he should never have assumed Lan Xichen would welcome that kind of interference. Which Jiang Cheng accepted fully. He had entirely taken it upon himself to provide comfort.

Finally the first Jade of Lan suggested they meet to discuss the matter and set it to rest.

Not a chance.

Once he had read the letter fully Jiang Cheng did burn it, and didn’t reply.

A fourteen year old boy, no matter how mature he was expected to be, wouldn’t so easily forgive such a humiliation.

#XiCheng #pre-relationship #jiang cheng #lan xichen #wei wuxian #shifter AU #shay's stuff #mdzs fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian being a jealous brother #Fur and Feathers AU

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