#tael writing tag

[obsessedwithegos]

Cuddles

CWs: Vampire whumpee, Demon carewhumper, Drunk carewhumper, Intimate/Creepy Carewhumper, Noncon cuddling, Temperature whump, Past noncon (Not explored but referenced via implications), Lots of fear :) 

Emil: He/him (as gender has not yet been explored at this point) Tael: He/it (it/its is primarily used for this)

Note: Emil calling Tael ‘God’ as a direct result of this fun lil fic :) 

~~~ Sleep weighed on Emil as he was balled up in the corner, trying to finally get some sleep before the sound of the basement door rattling stole his focus towards sleep away. 

He turned over to try to face the demon coming down the stairs but paused for a moment as he noticed it seemed like Tael was almost struggling with going down them.

“Emil~.” It called in a sing-song tone; A tone that he knew was never good.

“Do you want to sleep in a bed tonight?” 

Emil could now smell the alcohol on it as it got closer. He wanted to shrink back away from it, but he was already cornered. “Um.. No thank you, I’m alright down here.”

Tael hums as it walked closer to grab the chain connected to Emil’s collar so it could start to slowly pull him closer. “Nonsense! A bed would be much better than a concrete floor! Much more comfortable!~” 

He swallows a lump in his throat as he tries to pull away from being pulled closer. “I’m sure it would be, but I’m alright with staying down here!” He tries to hide the fear in his voice. 

A squeak escapes him as it grabs his collar. “Emil~ Didn’t you hear me? That’s nonsense~.”

Hairs stand on end as the collar comes off. “I heard you sir- I’d just like to not sleep in a bed tonight.” He says, hoping being a bit more blunt may help.

The demon did seem to pause for a moment, but then Emil is soon picked up as a more audible squeak comes out.

“M-Master really! I’d like to stay down here please!” He pleads, hoping that using one of Tael’s preferred titles may sway it more to listen.

“Shut up.” Any hint of kindness or gentleness in its voice was now completely gone as it turned to carry the vampire upstairs.

Emil’s blood was running cold and his heart felt like it was pounding up in his throat. He puts his hands on its chest to try to push away from it. “Please God, I promise I’ll behave if- If you just let me stay down here!” He begged, desperately trying to appeal to the demon any way he could.

“I’m not going to hurt you, so shut. Up.” Tael growled, successfully striking enough fear into the vampire to silence him.

The sound of his heart pounding rang in his ears and the smell of alcohol burned his nose all while he felt like the world was spinning around him as he was frozen. 

It felt like an eternity as he was carried up out of the basement, up out of the shop and into the first floor of the house, and then a wave of warmth washed over him as he’s brought to Tael’s bedroom. 

It always did like keeping its room warmer than the rest of the house.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he’s dropped on the bed, wishing he would just continue sinking into it and wishing he’d just sink through the bed and floor.

Another squeak followed by a whimper escapes him as he feels the bed rise under him as the demon crawls in.

Tears well in his eyes as warm arms snake around him and pull him close, shifting him so Tael was pressed against his back. It uses its tail to pull the blankets up before wrapping it around him as well; Even if he did manage to get out from its arms, there was no way he could get out of its tail.

His skin felt like it was crawling the heat from the room and the body heat from the demon made it feel like he was just mere degrees away from being burned.

“Your heart is racing like a rabbit trapped in the talons of a hawk.” It mutters, bringing its face down to bury its face in his neck. “It’s cute.”

Emil couldn’t even think coherently, all he could get out was another whimper.

It was only a matter of minutes before he could hear soft snoring from it. Within those few minutes, he was already starting to break into a sweat from the inescapable heat.

He attempts to turn his head to bury his face in the pillows, partially to try to wipe off some sweat and partially to try to stop the sensation of feeling like the world was spinning once again.

He struggles to try to move and adjust to attempt to put his hands against Tael to try to get some leverage to aid in pushing away from it, but its arms instinctively wrap tighter around him and try to bring him even closer.

It felt impossible to tell if it was the heat or the fact that he was so close to it that was making his stomach twist.

Could he die from heat alone? No, no he couldn’t, right? But if he got sick from it, that was a different story. 

The only sense of coldness he got was chills running up his spine any time the demon nuzzled its face into his neck more or tried to hold him closer. There was almost no way they could be closer! At least no way that he was willing to think about.

Was this really all it wanted? Something to hold while it slept? Was he going to be allowed to go back into the basement once it woke up? He could only silently pray that he would be able to.

Hour after hour he felt worse, he failed to try to sleep despite fatigue now weighing on him. Any small movement made his dizziness worse, his head pounded, and he felt weak.

Despite being completely surrounded by heat, he felt so cold that he was starting to shiver. He struggled to convince himself the chills were real as his clothes clung to him with sweat, and he was positive it was soaking through Tael’s clothes as well.

It felt almost like a blessing that he got disoriented enough to completely lose track of time.

Tael eventually started to shift and grunt as it slowly woke up. “You stink.” It muttered as it unwrapped its tail from around him.

The tail leaving him and feeling the blankets being lifted up almost felt like what he imagined heaven to feel like. 

“Go shower.” It groggily ordered as lets go of him so it could sit up.

“Yes sir..” Emil muttered as he struggled to sit up, his arms shaking in the process. 

He felt awful, but thankful that he got out of this with not even a physical scratch. Now he at least got to look forward to a shower that he could control the temperature of.

~~~~~~~~~~~

General: @emmettnet @thebluejayswhump

Emil's story: @whumpsday

#whump #whump tag #emil tag #emil writing tag #tael tag #tael writing tag #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #carewhumper #drunk whumper #noncon touching #noncon cuddling #temperature whump #ask to tag #heat exhaustion is fun to write! >:3 #sorta speedran it but it was still fun!!! #owe writing

[onewingedsparrow]

Wasn't tagged, but can you tell me about the Myth Prompt, please? Am intrigued XD

Yes of course! I didn't know you were a writer too, I'll remember that! :D And you don't need a tag to send an ask, send them whenever you want! For the WIP ask game The Myth Prompt is a brand new WIP I started! The Zelink Community Discord has a lowkey Weekly Prompt that I participate in when I have the time, and when I saw the word "myth," I knew I had to write some HyLink! I'm really excited to share this when it's done... ;)

"High and low have I flown with the call," declared Navi with vim, "crying out left and right, far and wide, near and far with your words; but no mortal has willingly answered, nor will they yet open their eyes." "None will draw near to us," continued Proxi in pity, "for the fear in their eyes has poisoned their spirits and cut their hearts into pieces." "What indeed shall be done, Your Grace," asked Tael through timidity, "if not one soul dares take up the Sword?"

#wip ask game #brb friend #tloz #asks answered

[tryingtimi]

OC Favorites Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @writingonesdreams and @the-void-writes! ❤️ Since everyone gave me the freedom to either choose or use theirs, I mixed them up. (and I left out the favorite person, because it's obviously Syon)

Rules: Share photos of your OC’s Colour, Food, Season, Animal, God. Then tag five people and change up any one of the five favourite things categories for the next round.

I'll go with Darmon Strotagor from Metalsea, because he's the favorite around here.

[I love the picrew version of him too, but the artflow one was more accurate and I tried to edit his crystal eye into it... so it's weird. Either way, let me know what you think lmao]

Colour

Dark tael blue or as I've found on the internet; Gentlman's Grey (Benjamin Moore colours)

Food/Drink

Grapes and Ouzo (greek anise-flavored liqueur)

Season / Place

Late autumn and uh, hehe, graveyard. Well, for antagonist-Darmon at least. He insisted to have a place like that for those who were unfortunate enough to not survive, well, anything they were going through. The graveyard was the only place where he could be alone and think, also. It’s a peaceful place where he could talk to those long gone and reassure them their sacrifice was worth it. Hero-Darmon is still searching for his favorite place, however.

Animal

Red-tailed black cockatoo. Mostly because it's said to accompany the dead to heaven in the florklor of the Tiwi people (accroding to wikipedia) and because they rather shy of humans.

God

If it’s not about in-world gods, then Hades, the God of the Dead and the King of the Underworld.

Feel free to use this list, or go with favorite: Element, Time of the day, God, Colour, Toy as a child.

I've seen a lot of you guys did for one character already, but I'll still tag you too, so you can do it for another if you want! @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @writingonesdreams, @the-void-writes, @approximately20blorbos, @aninkwellofnectar, @blind-the-winds, @odysseywritings, @aschlindartroom, @jess-p-edits, @moonscribbler, @circa-specturgia

#oc favorites tag game #Darmon Strotagor #Project Metalsea #one of my edglords

[axl-ul]

9 People Tag Game

Thanks a lot to lovely @mariahwritesstuff and @rubywrite ^^

Soft tags: @repressed-and-depressed @janec23 @angie-j-kay @verba-writing @dyrewrites @mthollowell-writes @yamiuncornwrites and an open tag

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

Last song: Atheromata by Oblique Occasions

Last Movie: Friday

Currently Watching: Dragon Ball (the og series, stil lingering on th elast couple of episodes)

Currently reading: rereading Journey to the West (it's going really slow since I had to return to my other duties)

Last thing I researched for research purposes: What is the modern equivalent of a silver tael? (Context: I was trying to figure out the prices for the marketplace scene. Ended up deleting majority of the scene and rewriting it, though)

#9 people tag #writing community #writeblr #tag games

[faerieavalon]

Last Line Meme

Tagged by @midnightprelude thank you !!

Rules: Post last written line, tag as many people as words (or however many you want, I'm not your boss).

I’ve written enough that I can play, yay! And I’ve been out of the circuit long enough that I’m not going to do word count here. But here’s my last line, from Sule Tael rewrite:

He clasped her hand in his, smiling until his soft green eyes sparkled. “You are with kin now, sister. We will keep you safe.”

Tagging forward to @serial-chillr, @johaerys-writes, @dalish-rogue, @pedlimwen, @in-arlathan, and anyone else who wants to share.

#last line meme #elvhen oc #my writing

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: Operation Barking Dog, ch. 5

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Fairy & Mò Xuányǔ, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī & Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Little Apple, Fairy, Jīn Líng | Jīn Rúlán, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Original Characters

Additional Tags: Family, Mutual Pining, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Summary: In a world where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn’t have drunk sex and there was no confession in the temple, the pining continues as they travel across Jianghu post-canon. In which Wei Wuxian learns Mo Xuanyu adored Xianzi (Fairy) and decides to honor him by again attempting the impossible: curing his cynophobia. Largely novel and donghua canon. Very loosely based on an @angstymdzsthoughts post.

Notes: See end for chapter notes.

AO3 link

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

The spirit at the farm, as it turned out, was not Lao Po’s grandson, but her late husband, who simply wanted her to know the location of his stash of tael. He’d been saving to take her on a trip to the city where they met when he died suddenly, and in the intervening years she had not stumbled upon the hoard, and he grew more and more frustrated that he couldn’t tell her its location so her last years could be comfortable. 

He didn’t have any resentment once the money was found, simply wanted his wife to know he loved her and hoped they would be together in their next life. Then he gave Lan Wangji a list of repairs the small cottage needed and asked him to help. 

Mice are getting into her millet from the hole in the back of the cupboard, he relayed through the guqin. And there’s a leak in the roof near her bed. Makes the whole house damp. Unhealthy.

Wei Ying was, of course, excited to help, flashing a bright grin as they got a list of supplies that were needed and walked the several li into town to retrieve them. Though the elderly widow had pressed part of the stash of tael into his hand to pay for it, Lan Wangji had no intention of using it, and he would ensure it was returned to her later when Wei Ying had her distracted. 

The remainder of the morning was spent listening to Wei Ying chatter about everything and nothing as they worked on repairing the little cottage, and Lan Wangji endured his zhiji stripping to his inner robes atop the roof as he repaired it, nails poking from his mouth as he worked. Passers-by stopped to help for a bit, even, given that Lao Po was well-loved as an elder in the community and no one had known of the disrepair—and when they heard of her late husband having stayed behind to try to help her, word spread. 

Before long, nearby families were arriving with freshly-made baozi and other foods for lunch, the husbands helping tackle the different tasks based on what they were most skilled at, and the work was finished by early afternoon, turning the gathering into a picnic in Lao Po’s flower garden, waning in the last of autumn. 

As this went on, well-wishers had him pass their love along and asked questions—one even asking for the recipe for the sweet wine the community had been missing since his passing. Lan Wangji dutifully translated the recipe, and even Wei Ying pulled out a piece of parchment from his sleeve to write it down. He would need to remember to buy a nice variety of fruit when they returned to Gusu, though he would perhaps have Wei Ying brew it beyond the barrier to the Yunshen Buzhichu. 

Maybe, if Shufu ceased harassing Wei Ying. 

In the end, Lan Wangji translated the spirit’s last loving thoughts to Lao Po and hers to him, to and from guqin, his ears burning at how closely they resembled his own thoughts, particularly during the years of Wei Ying’s death. When they were ready, he and Wei Ying played ‘Anxi’ together to liberate Lao Po’s husband, so that he might rejoin the cycle of reincarnation and perhaps would meet her again in their next lives. 

As sometimes happened in these cases, Lao Po’s grief was refreshed by having had the opportunity to speak with him and yet having to let him go again as well. She thanked them profusely through her tears, falling over herself trying to repay them, and the locals who were still present, many of them her children and grandchildren, took over to tend to her grieving. They, too, were grateful, showering them with praise that was sometimes embarrassing in nature. Wei Ying never took praise or being thanked easily, and Lan Wangji was for once grateful for it, as he managed to extricate them from the household as courteously as possible. 

By the time they headed back to the Hu farm, the sun was starting to set, glancing beautifully off the multicolored leaves of the trees surrounding the road, and Wei Ying wondered aloud if there was a stream nearby where he could bathe. 

“There’s nothing like a nice cool stream after working up a sweat,” he said, sounding contented with the day, and in the next moment he was crashing through the undergrowth by the road, having spotted one. 

Lan Wangji froze for a moment, almost not daring to think—surely Wei Ying didn’t intend to strip? Though he had been accused of prudishness in the past, each time he saw expanses of Wei Ying’s skin his body reacted, and the last thing he wanted was to chase away what they had with his desires; his loss of control at the Baifeng Shan hunt was still, so many years later, a source of great shame, and he feared Wei Ying’s disgust if he were to ever learn the truth. 

But he couldn’t help but follow Wei Ying, always, having failed to do so in his first life, his failure leading to his death. He knew Wei Ying didn’t blame him, no matter how much he blamed himself, but he had promised when against all odds Wei Ying lived again that he would follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary, without hesitation. 

So of course Wei Ying stripped to just his trousers, the only strip of cloth left on his body aside from the ribbon in his hair, and Lan Wangji endured, clutching Bichen like a lifeline, his eyes carefully averted—though that did nothing to stop his ears from burning at just the knowledge of being in the vicinity of a nearly-nude Wei Ying. 

The last time this had happened had been the cave with the Xuanwu, with Wei Ying’s first body. Though Lan Wangji had seen him in this new body in various states of disarray, particularly after injuries, this was different, in that the focus wasn’t now on healing, but recreation. 

Given that he had once bitten Wei Ying in an attempt to confess, he wasn’t certain he trusted himself. 

“Aren’t you hot, Lan Zhan?”

He managed to hum a denial, telling himself it was true even as his ears burned. In one sense it was—his body was not overheated, his jindan keeping it at an ideal temperature. 

Wei Ying accepted the answer without comment, going back to his chatter, splashing a bit as he bathed. He spoke of where he learned to repair things—having done odd jobs as a street kid, as a disciple’s duties, rebuilding Lianhua Wu after the war, in Luanzang Gang…

He trailed off in the middle of recounting something involving Uncle Six and an argument over roof structure, and Lan Wangji turned toward him unthinkingly. 

His eyes were unerringly drawn to the muscles that had formed in his still-lithe body, it’s emaciation having been carefully corrected in the time since it became his, healthy and sturdy in a way that reminded Lan Wangji in some ways of his first body, though he no longer had the height or build he had once glimpsed in Muxi Shan before they fought the false Xuanwu so long ago. He also didn’t have the Wen brand scar. It was good to see him healthy. 

Sitting in water halfway up his chest, Wei Ying’s expression was slack, his eyes unfocused, lost in memory, in grief. 

“Wei Ying?”

Lan Wangji watched as he jerked minutely, blinking to awareness, his expression twisting into a forced smile. 

“I’m fine, Lan Zhan.”

He was not, Lan Wangji knew, but he didn’t know how to address the issue in a way that wouldn’t cause Wei Ying to shut down, shuttering his emotions in self-defense. He had never had the time to grieve any of what he had lost in his first life, too busy trying to survive and be strong for the sake of others. 

The rest of Wei Ying’s bath was silent aside from the splashing of water, and before long his zhiji was dressed and ready to continue to the Hu farm. Lan Wangji listened to him as his chatter started up again, now about talismans for repelling resentful energy and their use for the common people to prevent problems before they arose and save lives. 

Hu Ning rushed to them when they appeared on the road, smiling widely, the runtling in her arms, talking about how she heard they helped Lao Po, which meant word had spread in the community and others might come to them for help. That would simplify matters quite a bit when it came to taking care of any spirits or yao for this area. 

“Mama’s cooking a feast to thank you,” she finished as they reached the farm. 

She held the puppy out to Wei Ying, as though to encourage him to take it, and when he balked Lan Wangji stepped forward to take the little creature, which fit in the palm of his hand, though that was no measure given that he had large hands. It was awake, but its eyes were still shut, and it nuzzled around the front of his hanfu as though looking for a way in. 

This seemed to embolden Wei Ying a bit, who stepped closer and tentatively touched the puppy, which immediately leaned into the touch, seeking warmth—and though he flinched back at first, Wei Ying recovered to pet it more firmly. Lan Wangji was gratified that his zhiji felt the puppy was safer if he was holding it, an indication of trust he would do everything not to betray again. 

The puppy licked at Wei Ying’s fingers, and he giggled uneasily and pulled his hand away as though burned, but quickly moved back in to touch it again as though challenging himself, this time away from the mouth. 

“She’s probably hungry again—she sucks fingers when she’s hungry,” A-Ning offered. “Baba said she’s a girl puppy.”

Lan Wangji put a finger in front of the puppy’s mouth, and she did just that, suckling as though to feed. Wei Ying looked at him wide-eyed, clearly shocked he would put his finger at risk, his hand stilling. 

“No teeth,” he reminded, “so she cannot bite.”

He wasn’t sure Wei Ying’s phobia was susceptible to logic—fear didn’t tend toward the logical, after all—but his zhiji surprised him, seeming to come to a resolution, and held out his cupped hands for the puppy. His body language implied he was resisting the urge to run, tense and shifting minutely even as he beckoned for the puppy. Lan Wangji waited a beat, removing his finger from her mouth, then when he didn’t balk gently transferred the tiny creature to him, keeping his own hands close in case Wei Ying’s fear overtook him. 

Though Wei Ying’s feet shifted, almost dancing briefly beneath him, he kept his hands steady, only shaking slightly as he drew the puppy closer to cradle her, Lan Wangji stepping closer in case he was needed. 

“Oh, she’s so light,” he said after a moment, his voice distant with amazement, then jerked and choked as the puppy found his fingers and pulled one into her mouth.

Lan Wangji drew closer, reaching out with one hand to steady Wei Ying’s hands. 

“She really doesn’t have teeth!” he murmured, looking up at him in wonder. 

But Wei Ying was shaking a little in distress, trying to be brave through the fear, but at his limit—Lan Wangji could practically feel the emotions he was contending with, including frustration at his own fear of the tiny pup. The slight edge of hysteria in his voice didn’t escape his notice, either. A cold sweat was breaking across his brow. 

He wasn’t willing to let his zhiji overwhelm himself, and so he gently took the puppy from him and handed her back to A-Ning. Wei Ying made no move to stop him, letting out a soft breath of relief, in fact, assuring Lan Wangji he had made the correct decision. This alone, after all, was major progress, and spoke of the possibility of success in at least lessening his fear of dogs. 

“I’ll go feed her now,” A-Ning announced, then scampered back toward the cottage. 

Lan Wangji wasn’t certain Wei Ying was in much state to face others, so he handed him the gourd of water he had refilled at the stream to give an excuse to linger. 

He couldn’t help but notice the tension in his zhiji, even with the puppy out of sight, though he couldn’t be sure it was entirely fear—very possibly it could be frustration at being afraid of even such a tiny, toothless thing. 

“We will stay as long as necessary,” he said; after all, they were traveling at their own pace across the jianghu. 

Wei Ying’s smile looked fragile in the waning sunlight, but he nodded after taking a sip of water. Lan Wangji felt awkward, uncertain of what else he could do or say to reassure him, his desire to comfort him awkward as he could only think of what he would like to do: sweep Wei Ying into his arms, which would be inappropriate. He had confessed his feelings to Wei Ying over a decade ago—whether Wei Ying had been cognizant at the time or not, he wouldn’t assume—and he refused to cause him any discomfort over them now. The urge to hold him and reassure him was no less strong than it ever had been, but he would focus on measures Wei Ying would welcome. 

When Wei Ying had sufficiently recovered, they headed to the farmhouse, where Hu-furen—who balked a little at the formal term of address—greeted them kindly and had one of the other children show them where to wash up before dinner. 

Dinner involved meat seasoned well with a spice factor well within Lan Wangji’s tolerance level, which Wei Ying told him, knowing his lack of familiarity with meat, was pork belly, mixed with bok choy in a savory sauce, accompanied by a range of vegetable dishes and millet. 

The family spoke during the meal, and Wei Ying accommodated and explained his adherence to his clan rule of no speaking during meals, then fielded the questions the Hu family had about the ghost, something that eventually shifted into a discussion of funerary practices among the gentry clans. 

“The cultivation clans don’t burn joss and such, since everyone has a soul-calming ceremony as children, with the goal of a peaceful transition across the bridge into their next life,” he explained. “But people like me, who weren’t born to the clans and entered too late, didn’t get them, and it’s not unheard of for a cultivator with a soul-calming ceremony to die with enough resentment to linger anyway.”

Lan Wangji wasn’t terribly familiar with the funerary practices of the common people, but Wei Ying was absolutely correct about the cultivation clans. With minimal ability to deal with resentful spirits themselves, it certainly made sense that the common people would adopt these practices, often seen as mere superstition by the gentry, to try to keep their dead at rest without soul-calming ceremonies available. For them, it was a matter of practicality, appeasing potentially restless spirits through the burning of joss and other offerings to assure them they were not forgotten. 

It lent a new context to the reaction of the junior disciples of the more rural sects to A-Qing’s death in Yi Cheng, certainly, who would know the girl likely had no soul-calming ceremony and would wish to treat her spirit as she would expect to be treated. That her injured spirit was traveling with Song Lan and the remnants of Xiao Xingchen’s soul would have meant little in the face of ritual tradition. 

He could not help but feel uncomfortable with the memory of Wei Ying asking if he had burned joss for him, said in a joking tone that he knew now may have been meant to cover his true feelings, as to whether he had burned joss for him. Lan Wangji knew Wei Ying had not had a soul-calming ceremony, and yet he had burned no joss, left no offerings in the years of his death, though he had sought his zhiji’s spirit, hoping to liberate him if he was a resentful spirit, knowing all others would seek to eliminate him. Now he wondered if he should have done both. 

“But Lao Ye wasn’t a resentful spirit, they said—he just wanted to help Lao Po,” one of the children protested. 

“Yes, but the longer he stayed and his last wishes were ignored, the more restless he would become, and that restlessness turns to resentment and creates resentful spirits of benign ones,” Wei Ying told them gently. “So it was important that Hanguang-Jun was here to help liberate him.”

Once the meal was over, the family returned to the last of their chores before full dark fell, and Wei Ying insisted they visit Xiao Pingguo in the small stable. Lan Wangji brought out an apple for the grumpy donkey, who somehow managed to be just as ill-tempered as when he was being ridden on the road, though it clearly appreciated the apple. 

Wei Ying chattered the entire time, sometimes scolding Xiao Pingguo for seeking more apples by nosing at their clothing, and he seemed much recovered from his earlier near-panic with the dog—but Lan Wangji knew that could easily be a sort of mask his zhiji tended to wear in an attempt to hide his struggles. 

He quieted when they found A-Ning sitting under a tree near the shed feeding the puppy when they returned. She looked up at them with a smile as she placed the milk-soaked rag in the pup’s mouth.

“You don’t have to hold him,” she said, “just be near and watch him, and maybe that will help too?”

The suggestion was intelligent, and told Lan Wangji she had also noticed Wei Ying’s reaction to holding the puppy.

“Good idea, A-Ning,” Wei Ying said after a moment, then adjusted his robes to sit beside her. 

The girl looked happy at that, shifting her attention back to the runt, which was completely focused on the milk-soaked rag, making little needy grunts as she suckled. A-Ning kept the pup on her skirts instead of the ground, which was no longer sun-heated, now too cold for her. 

Lan Wangji commented upon it, and A-Ning complained of how hard it was to keep the puppy warm overnight. 

“Mama has to heat the water bottle in the night a few times. I’m not allowed to use the fire. I’m too little.”

She sounds particularly put out over the last bit, at that age where children felt older than they were. 

“I could make a talisman to keep it warm all night,” Wei Ying offered, already pulling talisman paper and a wrapped bit of cinnabar. “Let your mom know and bring the water bottle here so I can get it right.”

A-Ning immediately handed the puppy to Lan Wangji and scampered off. The pup let out a little distressed noise at the jostling, but settled easily against his fingers when he curled them around her. 

“Aiya, all animals love you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying commented absently as he started writing his talisman. “Who can blame them!”

Lan Wangji made a noise of acknowledgment, watching him work with the talisman, writing one that was similar to ones he’d seen him use to keep bath water warm, though this one looked like it was meant to be less powerful—it made sense, a water bottle much smaller, and contained beside. Watching Wei Ying work on talismans never got old, allowing a glimpse into his brilliant mind, and Lan Wangji was again nearly overcome with with gratitude that his zhiji was back in this world, that his genius could shine and they could travel like this and bring light to the dark corners of the jianghu. 

Almost too soon, A-Ning reappeared from the homestead, carrying a water bottle made of sturdy leather, corked to keep the water inside and designed for use as a portable water container as well as a warm compress for injury. 

Wei Ying inspected it when she handed it to him, humming thoughtfully and murmuring about the material as he did, before setting it aside and examine the talisman he had created. He used his cultivation, the tiny almost-core that had been Mo Xuanyu’s, to remove several characters from the talisman. Wei Ying had worked with the basis of cultivation in his new body until a brand new jindan quickened in his dantian, something he had confessed, fighting emotion, he thought he would never feel again—in some ways he hadn’t, not in one life, anyway, not in his original body. 

The absent humming turned to a familiar tune, and Lan Wangji’s heart throbbed briefly. He knew Wei Ying found the song a comfort, and he was glad of it, but it reminded him of why he wrote it, a love unrequited, a love he could never let go of, one he would and could gladly suffer if it meant he could walk beside his zhiji again, fulfilling their youthful promise as they had never been able to in his first life. 

It hurt, but like with the whip scars that sometimes pained him, he let himself feel it and how it differed from the endless pain he had endured those thirteen years. 

Wei Ying rewrote several characters on the talisman, shifting the focus and target a bit with the expertise of a master, and then looked at the finished product consideringly. 

“I don’t want to accidentally ruin the water bottle—what do you think, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji did not have the expertise with talisman work to make a true judgment—some of what Wei Ying had managed in the past had seemed impossible to him, but that was what Wei Ying was good at. 

“I will purchase a replacement if necessary,” he said instead, going for reassurance.

The town up the road was large enough to have a decent night market, and he could easily fly the several li to it, even in the twilight, if needed. 

Wei Ying smiled brightly at that, and affixed the talisman to the leather before activating it, and then after several seconds he let out a hum of satisfaction. 

A-Ning took it when he handed it to her, her eyes going wide with wonder. 

“It’s so warm! Just from that paper?”

“It’s more than paper,” he said, laughing. “It’s a talisman, and I’ll show your ma and ba how to activate and deactivate it so it’ll last for a bit.”

He kept talking, about how it used ambient qi and didn’t require a caster’s qi, A-Ning listening intently. 

“So it’s magic,” she summed up, which was both accurate and not, but acceptable for a non-cultivator. 

Wei Ying just smiled and nodded, used to a more simplistic worldview from mediocre people than Lan Wangji, no matter how much time he had devoted to going where the trouble was; he typically spoke little to the non-gentry except to gain information on cases, while his zhiji was much more social. A-Ning placed the water bottle next to Lan Wangji, and he gently lowered the puppy to it. She made little contented noises as she finished sucking the milk from the rag, and he glanced to make sure they didn’t bother Wei Ying, who was much closer to her now—but he watched her with a gentle smile. 

“Yes, you have a nice warm bed, don’t you, xiao ta?” he cooed softly, his eyes sparkling like moonlight in the near-dark. 

It was perhaps the most relaxed Lan Wangji had ever seen him around a dog, a possible indication that his cynophobia could at least be weakened. 

“That’s a good name,” A-Ning commented as she took the rag to soak up more milk and put it back in the puppy’s mouth, the warmth keeping her content enough that she didn’t protest. “She can be Xiao Ta. She’ll grow up to be playful and energetic like an otter!”

Lan Wangji wasn’t certain the puppy’s survival was guaranteed yet, though Wei Ying’s invention had potentially made it more likely, but he said nothing, simply watching as Wei Ying blinked in surprise and then smiled widely. 

“Well, I did say she looks like a baby otter, so it’s an apt name.”

He reached out, hesitating a few inches from the puppy and then petting down her back twice before pulling back. 

“Feels like a baby otter too, with all that downy baby fur.”

His voice had a distant quality, as though mentally he was back on the riverbank invading otter nests as a child, but that was the sort of distance that didn’t worry Lan Wangji, unconnected to negative memories; at times when Wei Ying’s thoughts turned to dark memories, it felt like losing him all over again, and he was compelled by a deep need to intervene. 

A voice called from the cottage for A-Ning, so she picked up Xiao Ta and tucked her into her robes, heading off with the warm water bottle and bowl of milk in her hands, leaving them alone in the darkness. 

The moon overhead was a sliver, just past the new moon, barely adding light to that of the vast river of stars that stretched across the sky. Lan Wangji was reminded of various times in the past, when the light of a full moon illuminated them—their first meeting, especially. 

Wei Ying’s smile was contented as he watched the sky, his posture utterly relaxed as he sat sprawled comfortably under the tree. 

“I’m glad we were able to help Lao Po and let her speak to her husband,” Wei Ying commented. “It’s always nice when a spirit lingers out of love rather than resentment.”

It didn’t happen too often, mostly because by the time a sect was contacted, ghosts had become resentful and were lashing out. By that point, they were sometimes beyond communication, or their final wishes could not be honored as they wished, and at times, generations had passed so everyone they knew was gone. 

“The joss…” Lan Wangji murmured without meaning to, and Wei Ying looked at him in some confusion before his eyes widened in understanding. 

“I wouldn’t have received it, so don’t worry about it. I don’t know where I was, but I wasn’t resentful, Lan Zhan—I knew what my fate would be, the moment I saved the Wens and maybe even before that, but I had to do the right thing.”

Wei Ying’s smile turned a little sad.

“I just wish shijie and the Peacock hadn’t died along with all of us.”

He only rarely talked of this, of the deaths of Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, though Lan Wangji knew it still weighed on him, Wei Ying’s only regrets about his first life—they had been terrible accidents, he knew, backlash from the defense against attacks on Wei Ying, and nothing he could say would alleviate his guilt. Mostly Wei Ying seemed to distract himself from memories of his first life, seeking to keep busy and active, but moments like this, in the quiet darkness of twilight, those memories bubbled to the surface. 

“I looked for you,” left his mouth before he realized it, a secret he meant to never reveal. 

Wei Ying blinked at him, eyes wide, waiting for a moment, but he seemed to realize he wouldn’t speak further. 

“While I was dead?” he asked, but didn’t pause for Lan Wangji to answer. “Did you think I’d survived?”

Lan Wangji could feel his throat go tight at the question; in his darkest moments, trapped in denial, he had often thought that there was no way someone as bright and good as Wei Ying could be gone from this world, and he must be trapped in a terrible nightmare—surely he would wake and Wei Ying would be alive and safe at Lianhua Wu, the war having been another fabrication of his subconscious. And when the denial had faded, he wished it had not, for even the delusion was better than the reality. His only balm then was in the rescued A-Yuan, the last remnant he had of Wei Ying, raising him one of the only things he could do for his zhiji. 

Aside from seek his spirit. 

“If you were resentful, others would not seek to liberate you,” he finally managed, swallowing the remembered grief, bitter like bile.

A cool breeze was picking up, carrying the scent of rain, an indication of a possible overnight storm, but he made no move toward shelter, his attention on Wei Ying, whose expression was difficult to decipher. 

He didn’t know whether Wei Ying knew of the jianghu’s failed attempts to summon his spirit so that it could be destroyed—though knowing of the Jin’s rot, it was more likely they’d do something worse, enslave his spirit somehow to force it to do their demonic bidding. Fortunately, Lan Wangji had still been in seclusion and hadn’t been forced to participate the first time, and Lan Xichen had made excuses for him at the subsequent attempts, likely wisely recognizing that it would be dangerous for the jianghu if anyone tried to force him to participate. 

Given how often Lan Wangji had spent the last decade with his self-control frayed and close to snapping, Xiongzhang’s decision was wise. Though it was just as likely he worried that, if they were successful in summoning Wei Ying’s spirit, Lan Wangji would go against the orthodoxy to save what remained of him. 

It was very good for the jianghu that they were unsuccessful. 

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said softly after a moment. “You really are too good.”

No, he wanted to protest, but his mouth would not move. He was but a flicker in the face of Wei Ying’s goodness. 

Wei Ying stood before he could find his voice, batting the dust off his robes. 

“It’s almost your bedtime, and it smells like it might rain,” he said brightly, offering his hand. “We should turn in.”

Once, a lifetime ago, Lan Wangji would ignore the proffered hand, but he didn’t hesitate to take it, let Wei Ying use the power of his new fledgling jindan to pull him onto his feet, and followed him to the storage shed without comment. 

Usually Wei Ying stayed up longer than hai shi, fiddling with talismans or other cultivation projects that caught his interest. It was common for Lan Wangji to fall asleep to him humming softly and working to the light of a candle or talisman. Often the song he hummed was one intimately familiar, and it was a joy to fall asleep to the sound of it in his beloved’s voice, soothing him into peaceful dreams. 

Tonight, Wei Ying readied for bed with him, and joined him on the sleeping mat, ready for rest. Today had been full of more than just travel, including physical labor that Mo Xuanyu’s body was unused to, something Wei Ying was slowly rectifying. Lan Wangji was certain facing his fear of dogs added to his exhaustion, as well. 

They lay quietly, shoulder to shoulder under the blankets, the too-quiet dark pregnant with what was unsaid between them, almost oppressive. Drops of rain began to fall, a gentle xilihuala against the roof, but that only seemed to heighten the lack of all other sound. 

“I wasn’t a resentful spirit,” Wei Ying said again finally, breaking the tension. “I don’t know what I was, aside from resting. When Mo Xuanyu summoned me, I wasn’t really happy about it. I wanted to go back to sleep. You know how I hate mornings.”

Despite the attempt at humor, it felt like a confession. Wei Ying had not wished to come back, wished to stay dead, in fact. That understanding was almost suffocating. Lan Wangji wanted to enfold him in his arms and hold him close, longed strangely for the nights just after Wei Ying’s return when he slept sprawled atop him pretending to be Mo Xuanyu. Instead he contented himself wrapping gentle fingers around Wei Ying’s slender wrist, his heartbeat fluttering under his skin. It felt like too much and not enough simultaneously. 

“I am glad you stayed,” Lan Wangji managed after a moment, unable to say everything he wished to. 

Wei Ying smiled at him in the dark, visible only because he was so close against his side, the warmth of him welcome. 

“Me too, Lan Zhan. See you tomorrow.”

“En. Tomorrow.”

Lan Wangji lay awake in the dark longer than he was accustomed to, listening as Wei Ying’s breathing evened into sleep, feeling his heartbeat under the pads of his fingertips. Those rhythms combined with the sound of the rain steadily falling on the roof, the gentle rumbling of thunder, and eased him into dreams. 

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

Anxi = Rest

Baifeng Shan = Phoenix Mountain

hai shi = the period of 9-11pm

jianghu = cultivation world

jindan = golden core

Lianhua Wu = Lotus Pier

Luanzang Gang = Burial Mounds

Muxi Shan = Muxi Mountain

Xiao Pingguo = Lil Apple

Xiao Ta = Lil Otter

xilihuala = the onomatopoeia sound of falling rain

Yi Cheng = Yi City

Yunshen Buzhichu = Cloud Recesses

My updates are going to take longer, more than likely. 

Mental health isn’t good. My 18yo cat died in August, and while I adopted two kittens and love them I miss her terribly. I’m also looking at a possible career change, or at the very least getting a job somewhere else, requiring a move this summer either way. It’s become painfully clear that my current place of employment has quiet fired me, and I’m tired of being treated like a peon and being underpaid. And a bunch of other stuff I’ve been just pushing down for years. It’s like I’ve been keeping going for so long on autopilot. 

Please bear with me. It’s a time of change. 

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #chen qing ling #cql #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei ying #wei wuxian #untamed fanfic #untamed fic #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #cql fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #mdzs fic #my fanfiction

[brkki]

Destabilization FAQ

Nobody asked anything yet so I will just assume which questions would be asked and answer them.

Before I begin I would like to give a huge thanks to:

-NeKoZe.MP6 for making a megalo for my AU even though there wasn’t even a page for it yet. Please give their channel a watch if you enjoy Undertale AU music and such!

-Soup Taels for making the beautiful logo for the AU that I am currently using. He does great pixel art and can be commissioned, so hey, if you need some sprites done and have some money to spare, be sure to give him a visit! Just for reference, the last logo that was made by me looked like this:

So yeah you can tell how much of an improvement his stuff is.

What is Destabilization?

Destabilization is an Undertale AU. I can’t spoil much currently but I can give you you the basic premise. There was a certain incident (can’t say what) in the past which caused some of the characters to do different things and fulfill different roles. The things you want to know are:

Frisk is the protagonist;

Toriel, Asriel and Chara live in the Ruins;

Sans and Alphys are both the royal scientists and live together in Snowdin (Nothing romantic between them, just work/friends); 

Undyne is the captain of the royal guard and lives in Waterfall.

Mettaton is a TV star but he goes around the Underground much more frequently, and visits Napstablook, his cousin who makes music for his shows, occasionally;

Papyrus is the king of monsters;

The river person does their thing;

As for the roles the characters fulfill in the story, can’t really say since some of the characters either don’t quite fit into the roles Undertale has, or their roles aren’t present in Undertale. I will say some stuff about the personalities of the characters when I post their designs. As of writing this I am still in the planning and writing stage so I don’t know how much stuff I will post.

Can I make my own take on this AU?

Please don’t do this, I came up with this having a vision of what I want to do. I really don’t want the whole UnderSwap thing to happen to my AU(I’m referring to the fandom creating a whole separate version of an already established character and passing it off as canon). Not much you can even do in terms of takes of this AU since it doesn’t really have a specific formula or something.

Can I make an AU of this AU?

Yes and no. You can make them if it isn’t just for the sake of making them. The story and characters should be actually thought out if you make them (I would prefer if you don’t make any dust or murder AUs of mine, thanks in advance). Also if you do make one, you should credit me for the original AU.

Can I make (1) unofficial music for this AU/(2) music for an AU of this AU?

(1)Yes you can, as long as you acknowledge and specify that it isn’t canon and credit me.

(2)The answer is essentially the same as (1) , but, if you do make the music, don’t claim to own the AU of the AU unless you actually own it or have thought it out and actually started writing it or stuff like that. Of course you own the music, just not the whole AU. I am okay with people making themes for Swap or Fell or any AU versions of my characters, in fact, I would love it if someone made that kind of stuff. If you do make them, and follow the rules, be sure to send it to me somehow or tag me or something, I would love to hear what you come up with. :)

Can I make fanfictions/roleplay with your characters?

Just acknowledge and specify that it isn’t canon and you’re fine.

Can I feature your characters in my AU?

If my characters are gonna be used as punching bags for some OP Sans or something, then no. Otherwise feel free to do it, just credit me.

Can I draw your characters?

Absolutely! I would love to see it! Just credit me and that’s it.

Why is *insert something* like that, it’s different in Undertale!

Not all of the things that are canon in Undertale are canon in Destabilization. Some concepts and mechanics might differ. Also, this AU doesn’t reflect what I think stuff in Undertale is actually like.

Can I ship your characters with others?

Fontcest, incest(even adopted siblings) and any of them that involve the kids(unless both the characters are kids and it’s kept family friendly) are strictly off-limits. Otherwise go ahead but don’t insist any of it is canon.

If you have a question that isn’t on here, feel free to ask, I will try to answer any of them that I can.

#DestabilizationFAQ #undertale #undertaleau #DestabilizationAU

[stiltonbasket]

Aaaaaah!!! Please please please write about wedding clothes, I need more of the Yearning

(note: please reblog, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

anon 1: Prompt for the renouncement AU.  Surely the happy couple (plus assorted Huaisangs and juniors, if you like) need to meet with some chefs and sample a gazillion interesting things to decide on the banquet menu.   WWX, of course, samples all the wines...It would also be lovely if you wrote them getting dressed and having their hair done to match the gorgeous fanart of the two of them kissing one another's hands...

anon 2: renouncement verse prompt for the wedding arc: sizhui and xiao-yu help wwx with a practice run for his wedding hair, and lwj has a surprise for each of them!

Despite Wei Wuxian’s insistence that Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen were going to far too much trouble for the union between their two clans, his brother and future brother-in-law refused to do away with the wedding rehearsal--a grand event in its own right, with a reception for the two bridegrooms’ families and an official exchange of gifts--and set the date for the longest day of the summer, a fortnight before the actual marriage ceremony.

“You’ll enjoy the party,” Jiang Cheng scolds, when Wei Wuxian tries to complain. “And you don’t even have to do anything, so be good and let me and Zewu-jun handle it.”

In the end, Wei Wuxian spends the rehearsal morning tasting wine, because three kinds of liquor are usually served at weddings in Yunmeng: with the sweetest and most delicious drinks poured out alongside the food, and the stronger, sourer ones reserved for later in the night, after the newlyweds retire to their bridal chamber. Surprisingly, Lan Xichen tags along to help him choose the first liquor, and approves of the golden honey-plum wine so highly that he buys a whole case to take back to Gusu with him.

“I leave wine bottles as offerings when I burn incense for Mingjue-xiong,” he explains wistfully, as the two of them go back to the clan quarters with enough fengmi jiu for the dinner party. “He would have liked this, I think.”

After Li Shuai and Yu Zhenhong finish sorting the liquor, Jiang Cheng displays Wei Wuxian’s wedding dowry, and Lan Xichen hands over the bride price, while Wei Wuxian tries not to choke on his own spit from his place at Lan Zhan’s side. He knew about the dowry Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling were settling on him, of course--there was a trunkful of silk sheets in violet and blue, and three deep chests of new gowns and slippers tailored to fit his height and slim shoulders, and then a tea set and a box of gold jewelry. There was also a larger case of jade and silver trinkets for him to wear after moving to the Cloud Recesses, where gold was largely forbidden for the sake of breaking the law against extravagance, and Wei Wuxian had to promise not to touch any of it until he and Lan Zhan officially start living together in the jingshi.

Jin Ling decided to present him with a box of baby’s essentials, which Wei Wuxian thought was ridiculous--the only children he and Lan Zhan will ever have are A-Yuan and Xiao-Yu, both of whom are far too old to actually use the gift, but his nephew looked so pleased when he presented his dajiu with the tiny shoes and dresses that Wei Wuxian shut his mouth and accepted them without protest.

After all, he and Lan Zhan might really end up with a new baby sometime in the not-too-distant future, if Wei Wuxian’s propensity for acquiring small children is anything to go by.

But none of this prepared him for the delivery of the bride price, which turns out to be six thousand golden taels from the Gusu Lan treasury to make up for the loss of Lotus Pier’s newly-instated head disciple and the zongzhu’s elder brother, not to mention the only legitimate heir to Yunmeng Jiang. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother to look gracious when he sees it, as Wei Wuxian notes with a cough that sounds more like a strangled scream than anything else--because his shidi seems to believe that a small fortune in gold is his due for having to part with Wei Wuxian, even though Lan Xichen will be compensated for about a fifth of the bride price on the actual wedding day, 

“Did your brother just bankrupt your sect so you could marry me?” Wei Wuxian demands, half-crazed as Lan Zhan ushers him back to his bedroom to bathe and dress in his freshly-tailored bridal robes. “Lan Zhan!”

“My uncle set aside a bride price for me before I was born, since he guessed that I would require no less than five thousand gold whenever I decided to marry,” his intended shrugs. “Hurry up and dress, sweetheart, or we will be late.”

Wei Wuxian relents and takes a hurried bath while Lan Zhan goes off to tend to his own ablutions, watching Sizhui and Xiao-Yu play together from behind the privacy screen as he scrubs his back and arms and pours perfumed oil into his hair. Sizhui seems to be trying to wrangle A-Yu into an embroidered green coat and trousers, but the baby looks far more interested in Wei Wuxian’s clothes: namely, the red and purple wedding gown, since he manages to snatch the shining silk robes out of his xiongzhang’s hands before building a nest in his pillow-basket with them.  

“Xiao-Yu is a bird,” he insists, as Wei Wuxian drops his cake of soap and laughs himself hoarse at the sight of him. “It’s my nest! Go ‘way!”

“A-Yu!” Sizhui cries, nearly stunned speechless. “Didi, those are A-Die’s wedding robes! You can’t play with them, so be a good boy and listen to xiongzhang, or--or you’ll make Yuan-gege cry!”

Xiao-Yu only squints at him before turning up his button nose. “No!”

But Lan Zhan arrives a few minutes later and coaxes the baby out of his basket with a stick of haw candy, leaving Wuxian to heave himself out of the tub and draws on his underwear. After that, the three of them lure Xiao-Yu into his tiny silk coat (by feeding him all the candy he can eat, to keep him from running away) before Wei Wuxian finally dons his bridal ensemble: a deep red overgown with lotus blossoms sewn onto the sleeve-hems in lilac and gold, while the skirt and shoulders boast a shower of stray golden petals falling from the heart of a single central flower. 

“Let me do your hair,” Lan Zhan murmurs, as if this were their actual wedding day instead of the rehearsal dinner. “You look beautiful, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian feels his heart quiver at the compliment as A-Yuan steps forward with his lotus headdress, pinning it into place in front of his high-combed bun so that Lan Zhan can secure the tiny gold chains fastening it to the back of his head. He often noticed his friend’s good looks before they were engaged, of course, which is the only reason why Lan Zhan finding him beautiful in return has flustered him so--and he tries to put the thought from his mind, or at least shove it away so that he can examine it later in private. 

Anyone would find it pleasing to hear such a compliment from their bridegroom, he thinks, before blushing himself half to death when Lan Zhan leans down to kiss the side of his face. Get it together, Wei Wuxian!

#renouncement verse #wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian arranged marriage au #my fic

[fiadhaisteach]

Things I’ve Read This Week* - 2021.01.23

🎊🎊 One Year TIRTW Anniversary! 🎊🎊

As you can see, I’ve made tweaks to the formatting since; and, well, another variation incoming. I’m no longer going to pin these to the top of my page, but instead have an “About Me” pinned post with a link for Mobile users (there’s already a link to the tag at the top of my page for desktop).

New Stories

Letters by kayura_sanada (@kayura-sanada) - Solas/Male Lavellan - 2,718 words, complete

The DA Alternate Universe Chronicles, Succumbing by RogueLioness (@roguelioness) - Solas/Female Lavellan - 10,330 words, complete

Love and Warfare by salexectria (@salexectria) - Solas/Female Lavellan - 17,280 words, HSE WIP

The colours of the sky by Noire12 (@noire-pandora) - Solas/Female Lavellan - 2,687 words, complete

Rereads

The Red Pawn by RoyGraves - Josephine/Female Adaar, Solas/MGIT - 70,735 words, WIP, Hope Sprang!

Something a Little Different by corvidkohai (@corvidkohai) - Solas/NB Lavellan - 12,077 words, HSE WIP

Tumblr (re)Reads

Dareth Shiral prompt by @rivainisomniari - Female Lavellan & OMC

Waves by @thevikingwoman - Solas/Female Lavellan

Soulmate Death Date AU prompt by @oxygenforthewicked - Solas/Female Lavellan (now also on AO3)

Untitled WIP by @lillotte17 - Solas/Female Lavellan

Insomnia by @solverne-02 - Solas/OFC

The Mother of Monsters prompt by @dycefic - Original Work

What Could Have Been by @roguelioness​ - Solas/Female Lavellan

Subscription Updates

Sugar Honey Iced Tea by AntlersandFangs (@thededfa), Beckily (@beckily), & Celtic_Lass (@thecelticlass) - Female Adaar/MBIT, Varric/MGIT, Krem/MGIT (Ch. 17)

Unwritten by UnrealRomance - Solas/MGIT (Ch. 163-164)

Hero by Tabikat (@tabikato) - Zevran/Male Mahariel, Alistair/OFC (Ch. 23)

Duck Pond Universe, Migration Patterns by RedInkofShame (@redinkofshame) - Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 4)

When the World Fell by Psalacanthea - Fen’harel|Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 6-7)

the forest is dark and deep and i’ve seen you here before by victoriousscarf (@victoriousscarf) - Solas/Male Lavellan (Ch. 109-111)

Melava Somniar | A Time to Dream by KeeperSpock (@outragedvulcan) - Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 32)

No Longer A Game by Here_To_Be (@nolongeragameart) - Solas/MGIT (Ch. 45)

In the face of your light, In the face of your light by noverture (@noverturemusings) - Solas/Male Lavellan (Ch. 53-54)

Ariwyn and Solas, The Hunt by bubble_bones (@bubble-bones) - Fen’harel|Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 63)

Vena Eolas: The Journey of an Elvhen Spirit, Sule Tael Tasalal - Until We Meet Again by faerieavalon (@faerieavalon) - Solas/OFC/Felassan (Ch. 65)

Dreams, In Waking Dreams by AParisianShakespearean (@a-shakespearean-in-paris) - Cullen/Female Trevelyan (Ch. 57)

Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl’s Take on Thedas, The Cutting Room Floor by CrackingLamb (@crackinglamb) - Solas/MGIT (Ch. 31)

Blacked Out by Sagoberattare - MGIT (Ch. 15)

Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl’s Take on Thedas, Twist by CrackingLamb (@crackinglamb) - Solas/MGIT (Ch. 89-90)

Overgrown by luzial (@luzial) & maerisk (@maerisk-writes) - Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 12)

Into the Cosmos, Into the Chaos by Pakhet (@shiver-the-tiefling) - Solas/MGIT, MBIT (Ch. 59)

A Wolf Named Vengeance by CrackingLamb (@crackinglamb) & Iron_Angel (@ir0n-angel) - Fen'Harel|Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 9)

The DA Alternate Universe Chronicles, For Goodness Bakes by RogueLioness (@roguelioness) - Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 13)

The Red Pawn by RoyGraves - Josephine/Female Adaar, Solas/MGIT (Ch. 18), Hope Sprang!

Broken, a coward and a failure, Dread Wolf Guide Us by Alexis_Trvlyn (@itsalexistrvlyn) - Solas/Female Lavellan (Ch. 3)

A Whole New World by RogueLioness (@roguelioness) - Solas/MGIT (Ch. 135)

» side note - multiple chapters may mean multiple updates; or might just be me refreshing my memory, reorienting myself in the story, or rereading some for fun. 😊

*TIRTW & can recommend

My spouse has decided that TIRTW is pronounced Ter-twee, like Pertwee, and since the 3rd Doctor is my favorite Doctor, I’m inclined to agree with him. 😉

#spotlight Saturday #fic recommendations #writer recommendations #tirtw #things i've read this week #aisteach reads #aisteach recommends #solavellan #solas/lavellan #solas x lavellan #solas/oc #solas x oc #solas/mgit #solas x mgit #zevran x warden #cullen/trevelyan #polyships #mbit #nb lavellan

[locria-writes]

wip meme

so while i was having my internal crises, @sviyaginthegreat tagged me in her lovely wip meme, and of course, tumblr notifs failed me.

idk who to tag, so if you’re a writing/devblog following me, you’ve been spiritually tagged, so feel free to use me as your referral lmao.

snippet of my favourite scene from the abea rewrite of ch 1, in which mc and lulu get to act like cutie patooties on a date with a third wheel

Yeran has lost himself in the various food stalls (to which you're also keeping an eager eye on), while the Emissary has gone to tie your horses down, leaving you to wander on your own.

Off a bit from the hustle of the market, there's a small stall selling cosmetics and jewellery, and you can't help your curiosity. Despite all the finery, all the precious gems and silks and furs that adorn you, you know very little of what's actually fashionable outside of the court. Court ladies usually follow the fashions of the inner palace, but there is no inner palace, and you're but an unwed princess, kept away from the public. The man running the stall looks to be around Eldest Brother's age, if not a bit older, and though he seems a bit taken aback by your outfit. "P-please take a look, mushen."

You look down, feeling a bit self-conscious that you're still so easily identified as someone upper-class, but nevertheless, you smile politely, hoping that even through your veil, the owner will feel a bit more at ease. "Shenyi will do fine, anshu."

"Ah, then, please take a look, shenyi."

The hairpins catch your attention first, and while they aren't precious by any monetary means, you still think them finer than the box of kingfisher hairpins the Zhemingwa King sent for your birthday. They're all silver, bronze, and wood, with nothing more precious than a few bits of quartz and impure jade, but so much more interesting to look at than anything you have.

There's one that sticks out to you most -- it's a simple silver two-prong hairpin, with painted glass butterflies and beads dangling from its decorative end. You're about to pick it up, but a familiar pair of hands beats you to it, and you turn to see the Emissary holding it before you, inspecting it with a mock-serious eye. "Ah, yes, gege, very predictable to go for the hairpins first, huh?"

Your cheeks warm at how close he is, and you refuse to meet his gaze. "I was looking at that."

"Why, do you want it?" Before you can say anything else, the Emissary steps a bit closer, gently sliding it into your hair, and when he pulls back, he looks quite satisfied. "Suits you quite well."

"Zhuoye, this is the perfect gift for your beloved," the shopkeeper says, a knowing smile on his lips, and both yourself and the Emissary step away from each other.

"B-beloved? Anshu, we're just friends," the Emissary says quickly, a trace of red evident on his face.

"Y-yes, anshu, please don't tease us like that."

The older man laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. "A fine gift then, for your friend. Many young ladies are wearing hairpins like this around the capital."

You glance over at the Emissary out of the corner of your eye.  "I can pay for it myself."

"No, you won't, I dragged you out here, so it's my gift, all right?" The Emissary is still a bit red-faced as he hands the shopkeeper some taels -- most likely more than what it's actually worth -- and gently takes you by the wrist. "Let's go, okay? We still have to find that useless kid."

glossary

mushen -- your ladyship

shenyi -- young miss

anshu -- older brother (used to address older non-related males who are younger than one’s own uncles/father)

gege -- your ladyship

zhuoyi -- young master

#a broken ever after #abea snippets #abea lu'anyu #i love this scene so much this entire chunk is so great #we got a great escape and food and a midnight bbq in which the kiddos get drunk #all after mc gets her new engagement lmao this is the correct reaction #the fortune-telling scene in this is also a personal favourite i love these dumb kids so much

[obsessedwithegos]

An Unwelcome Surprise

CW: Vampire whumpee, Demon whumper, Recovery arc, Whumpee seeing whumper again, Fear play, Pet whump (past)

Emil: He/him, She/her Adeline: She/her Tael: He/him, It/its (he/him is exclusively used in this) Mabel, Amanda, and Jolene (mentioned): She/her

Note: When interacting with Tael, Emil’s pronouns switch to she/her to make it easier to tell who is who!

~~~~~~

“Adeline, I’m on my way right now, if I knew you were going to visit I would’ve left sooner.” Emil holds his phone with his shoulder, his hands busy rummaging through his bag to make sure he has everything.

“Well if you knew that would’ve ruined the surprise!” Adeline chimes, excitement clear in her voice.

“You know how I feel about surprises.” Hesitance creeps into his voice.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I’m part of the surprise! It’s for your birthday! You’re turning 40 so we have to go all out, it’s a big milestone!” 

“By ‘we’ you just mean you and me, right?” 

“Maaaybe.” She drags it out with a mischievous tone.

“Adeline.” He tries to not let his tenseness show in his voice.

“Okay okay, I’m not going to confirm nor deny that Mabel, Amanda, and Jolene are with me as well. You have to get here to find that out officially.” 

He lets out a sigh of relief as a smile works its way onto his face. “Alright I’ll be there-”

“Excuse me sir?” A voice behind Emil calls out. “You dropped this.”

“Oh?” She takes a hand out of her bag to hold her phone as she turns around to look at the person behind her. 

Her blood runs cold as she first sees an all too familiar red clawed hand and playing cards tattoo on the person’s forearm. In the hand is her wallet.

She slowly makes herself look up to see his face.

Tael has a big knowing grin on his face as he looks down at her. “This is your wallet, isn’t it?”

She swallows a lump in her throat and shakily reaches out with her free hand to grab it. “Yes sir, it is. Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she trembled. 

“You’re quite welcome.” He lets her take it before raising his hand up to pat her on the head. “Have a happy birthday, Emil.” He wishes with a malicious tone before walking off.

She watches him walk off, unable to make herself move as the hair on the back of her neck stands on end. 

“Emil?” Adeline’s voice calls through the phone. “Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“I- um..” He stammers. “I just had a um.. A reminder of why I don’t like surprises. I’ll.. Explain when I get there, are any of you staying the day in town?”

“Yeah, Jolene and I are. You didn’t answer my first question, are you alright?” 

“Not.. Really. Can I stay with you two for the day? I think I’ll need to look at new apartments.”

She pauses before replying and he can already imagine the concerned look she’s giving the others. “Yeah, you can stay with us. If you need to be out by tomorrow, you can stay with me for a bit. Jolene brought her truck, we can get boxes.”

Emil finally manages to get himself to start walking once again. “I don’t need to leave right away. I just.. I want to look for new places to be safe. I’ll explain when I get there. Sorry for causing concern and taking so long.”

“Hey, don’t apologize, you’re alright. Get here, we’ll talk, and we can continue with the plans if you’re still up for it. Alright? If not, we can head back to the hotel.”

“Alright, that sounds good. I’m-”

“Don’t. Apologize.” She says harshly. “If you apologize again, Jolene is probably going to track you down herself and give you a stern talking to.” She promptly follows with humor.

A smile cracks on his face as he lets out a weak, breathy chuckle. “Alright. I won’t. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“Good. We’ll meet you outside.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

General: @emmettnet @blackberry-nightingale

Emil taglist: @whumpsday @pikanyachu

#owe writing #whump #whump tag #emil tag #emil writing tag #tael tag #tael writing tag #adeline tag #adeline writing tag #jolene tag #mabel tag #amanda tag #<it's canon for them too but they're onlymentioned so im not including their writing tag #recovery trope #pet whump #<past and implied via patting Emil's head #demon whumper #vampire whumpee #ask to tag

[in-arlathan]

2019 Writer’s Round-Up

I was tagged by @faerieavalon. You are wonderful, thank you! <3

Since I quit my job in April to pursue writing as a career (yeah, I’m that crazy person), I’ve spend my time working on both original fiction and fanfiction and I’ll take both into account for this round-up. I hope this gives me the much-needed motivational boost for 2020.

Total word count: 132,229

Broken down

Original Works – 84,784

The Rebel’s Ascension – 19,827

A Little Light – 1,513

Winter’s Heart – 1,292

At Wit’s End – 991

To Heal The Hurt – 1,643

A Change of Heart – 859

Lessons Learned – 3,492

These Stolen Moments – 5,826

What Friends Are For – 2,178

First To The Keeper – 3,413

Mythal’s Mark – 3,791

The Scar – 2,620

Wow, just... holy sh*t. I can’t remember a single year in my life I wrote this much. And this not even taking revisions into account (I rewrote approx. 50,000 words on my novel). I know there are many writers out there who accomplish much more in the same amount of time but eff it, I’m proud of myself. Especially with all the OCD bullcrap, I had to deal with this year. Hell yeah!

Number of smut scenes: Zero. Yeah, you read that correctly. It’s not that I avoid writing them, I just feel weird writing smut. Am I a strange person? Probably... only time will tell.

New things I tried this year: Writing in English! I do consume most media in English these days (roundabout 90%), but I never wrote anything ficitional in that language. I learned so much by trying to transform my little headcanons into enjoyable stories. Oh, and revisions. Lots and lots of revisions. Especially for the orignal works to make them publishable. I’m on round 6 for my novel and I start to hate every single word in every single sentence, but it’s okay. I know it’ll be worth it in the end.

AUs. That’s a zero again, I guess. Sometimes I do hate my love for canon-compliance. I admire a lot of writers who can embrace their AUs whole-heartedly but I suck at it big time...

Writing others’ OCs. I never tried that, tbh. I’m too afraid to ruin them. 🙈

Favourite thing I wrote this year: Uh, this is a tough one. When it comes to emotional impact, I’d say it’s “To Heal The Hurt”. Otherwise, I really enjoyed “The Rebel’s Ascension” (and still do). I never expected to find so much happiness writing a pure Solas-centric fanfic without any romance.

Favourite fic I read this year: “Looking Glass” by Feynite. It was the first fanfic I read since I dropped out of the Star Wars fandom ten years ago and it delivered everything my Solavellan hungry soul desired after finishing my first Solas romance playthrough of DA:I. I've accumulated quite the reading list with amazing fics by many talented writers since then, but I haven’t gotten around to reading them yet. It just so happens that I can either write or read a lot, but not both. I’m terrible that way. But I’m determined to get to “Borderland Sorrows” by @serial-chillr, “Sule Tael Tasalal” by @faerieavalon and “Begin Again” by @cornfedcryptid and many more fics by many more wonderful writers like @johaeryslavellan, @kita-lavellan or @solas-disapproves. And I’m pretty sure, there are more that I simply forgot. But the DA fandom has so much to offer and I’m so glad I joined it.

Writing goals for 2020: Get two of of three novels published and crank out some more fanfiction in the meantime. I want to finish “The Rebel’s Ascension” very badly, but there is a ton of Solavellan stories I want to write, too. I may even write my first smut scene (I really want to). Apart from that, my main focus will be honing the craft. I know my English is not bad, but it can be improved to make the stories more impactful.

One more thing before I go

All the lovely and encouraging responses I’ve recieved from the DA fandom thus far really kept me motivated. I’m used to writing for myself with only a few people taking the time to look at my stories. Every kudo, every like and every comment is a god-damn gift for me––and I can’t thank you enough for it. Thank you all so very much! <3

#writing #writers round-up #round-up 2019 #wip #work in progress #writing goals #word counts #fanfiction #original work

[soubidou]

Get to know me tag

Tagged by @tael-oui , a really nice surprise ! (I love spending time writing stuff for people in here!)

Name : Sereine but you can call me Sou

Gender : Girl power

Sign : CAPRICORN, wood pig (if that’s how it’s called)

Sexuality : somewhere on the ace spectrum until further notice, it’s still kind of a huge blur

Hogwarts house : Slytherin to the core of my soul

Blanket : Duh. Made with feathers, I keep it all year long except maybe in summer... but mostly all year long. I like the weight on me when I sleep.

Nationality : French frog

Occupation : Part Time in a restaurant, rest of the time as an illustrator-to-be

Hobbies : drawing, writing, reading, watching series and pretty much anything that contains a story.

Other blogs : @soubidoesart for my art, which I update every 6 months (sorry)

Favourite book : how dare you...? I don’t know. I guess the one I studied for my masters thesis, A Discovery Of Strangers (Rudy Wiebe). Although Ellana Le Pacte Des Marchombres and the rest of the trilogy/works of the author are pretty much top of the list.

Favourite colour : Yellow, Orange, Purple, Pink

Favourite season : Don’t really have one...

Favourite food : Anything that contains Curry spices

Favourite animal : Tigers, though I have a huge soft spot for basically all mammals and birds

Last song I listened to : Madonna’s American Life

Last book I read : The End We Start From

Last fun thing I did : uuuuuh... this? Art? Working on a new project with a friend?

Inspirations : Lots of artists and discussing topics that get me hyped with friends that GET IT

Dream destination : Prague and Norway

Dream Job : people still want to work in 2020? I guess living of creative stuff

I don’t really have anyone to tag but feel free to do it :)

#tag #me

[midzelink]

tags

A compilation of most of the tags that I use on this blog, that anyone might easily find content that suits their needs or desires.  (Use desktop for best results.)  If you notice I’m missing a tag from this list or if you’d like to me to tag something I haven’t, feel free to let me know!

ships

midna + link

midna + zelda

zelda + midna + link

ilia + ashei

ralis + colin

luda + agitha

shad + zant

malon + link

impa + nabooru

shad + link

zelda + cia

ghirahim + zant

midna + fi

games

gen (belonging to no specific game)

tp

oot

mm

ww

ss

botw

botw 2

alttp

albw

la

loz

aol

oox ( oos / ooa )

hw

characters

↳ link

all

tp ( human / wolf )

oot ( hero’s shade )

ww

ss

botw

loz

alttp ( rabbit )

hw

↳ zelda

all

tp

oot ( sheik )

ww ( tetra )

ss

botw

hw

↳ ganondorf

all

tp

oot

ww

botw

hw

↳ impa

all

oot

ss

botw

hw

↳ twilight princess

midna ( imp / twili )

ilia

zant

hero’s shade ( golden wolf )

agitha

telma

rusl

ashei

shad

auru

impaz

colin

beth

talo

malo

rutela

ralis

renado

luda

uli

fado

hena

skull kid

↳ ocarina of time

navi

rauru

saria

darunia

ruto

nabooru

malon

talon

bombhcu bowling alley lady

↳ majora’s mask

skull kid

tatl

tael

anju

kafei

romani

cremia

happy mask salesman

↳ the wind waker

daphnes ( king of red lions )

aryll

medli

makar

queen of the fairies

↳ skyward sword

fi

ghirahim

demise

groose

↳ breath of the wild

urbosa

revali

daruk

mipha

↳ a link between worlds

ravio

hilda

yuga

↳ misc.

epona

great deku tree

skull kid

great fairies

twili

deku scrubs

gorons

zoras

rito

art

all

comics

official concept art

redesigns

3d modeling

ocs ( reblog these or die by my hand )

writing

fics 

drabbles

music

all

official ost

covers

fanmixes

original

graphics

all

gifs

stills

edits

moodboards

aesthetic

icons

phone backgrounds

wallpapers

fanon

headcanons

aus

theories

analyses

tomfoolery

stuff that might make you laugh

memes

general shitposting

notable contributors

jojo56830

kaleboodle

karasuki

therealflurrin

chujellies

mad-maddie

theskullslums

my stuff

all

additions to other posts

art

memes

analysis + lore writeups

writing

gifs ( tp / oot / mm / ww / botw )

stills

projects

very, very stupid posts

misc

scenery

magazines

cosplay

crafts

posing

crossovers

tp manga ( colored pages )

that’s...oddly specific

in which link is (either fully or selectively) mute

in which IT’S A MODERN AU, BB

in which link is brown now because i said so

in which marin is also brown now because i also said so

actually wait here’s a whole tag for brown and black characters

in which oot link is tp link’s companion and teacher

in which tp link is botw link’s companion and teacher

in which malon is tp link’s (great, great…) grandmother

in which they are younger than they should be

in which they are older than they should be

in which PEOPLE HAVE CHILDREN

okami? on MY tp sideblog? it’s more likely than you think

#please don't reblog guys! //* #resources #not tp #not zelda #blog #myposts*

[faerieavalon]

Tagged in a word search by @serial-chillr (thank you fren!!) and figured I’d let people know I’m still alive.

My words are hollow, choice, and/or habit. All selections are from Sule Tael Tasalal, which I swear I am still writing even if I’m super slow. So have some longer selections as a treat.

Hollow:

Sera squirmed. “Too many elfy elves. I even think about it and I can feel them breathing down the back of my neck. It’s weird. They’re weird. Did we have to bring them?”

Lowering his eyes to his empty hands, Mahanon sighed. “They have a mission of their own. It’s important. For however long they travel with us, please just let them be.”

“It’s for Princess, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Varric.” He nodded, his words feeling hollow. He could still see the pain on her face when she disappeared. “The Inquisition has to carry on. We have to find Corypheus and right what’s been done to the world. They will find her and bring her home.”

“They will be departing at first light.” Solas spoke softly from the outer edge of the firelight. He came no closer. “Their beacon calls them elsewhere.”

A knot lodged in Mahanon’s throat. He nodded again, unable to express his sympathies in words. Solas accepted it with a tilt of his head before fading off into the shadows again.

“Good.” The young elf genuinely looked worried for a moment before brushing it off with a snort. “They better not come back without her either or they’re going to have more to worry about than ants in their breeches.”

~

Choice:

“It is starting again, falon. I want to help them. I need to. But my heart is not strong enough to do this all on my own.”

Felassan gave her a quick squeeze and rubbed a hand in comforting, soft circles along her lower back. “You are not alone, da’asha. You will always have me.”

“You said that once before,” Ara’lan muttered bitterly. “Then you ran.”

“You once told me you would draw down the stars,” he countered lightly. With a sigh, he answered more seriously. “I have more choices now than I ever did then. I am free to walk my own path as I choose. I choose to walk it at your side. Give me your trust once more, da’asha. Please. Give me the chance to make this right.”

She pulled back and studied his face again. The worry lines were deeper than before but his intentions sounded clear. Her heart ached for hope but recoiled from pain. She would have to trust her instincts in this. His pulse beat steady in his neck and chest. His eyes never once looked away from her. If anything they pleaded with her to listen. She read honesty, hope, and a hint of fear at rejection. The choice was simple.

“Yes, of course.” She conceded with a tired nod. “It was never truly in doubt. I apologize. Today has been far too long.”

~

Habit:

“No! Not a close call! It was -” His voice trembled behind clenched teeth just as his shaking hand clenched in Mahanon’s grasp. “We all knew the risks when we signed up. Any battle could go wrong. Any danger could be our last. But not you. Never you. You’re the Inquisitor. Everyone looks to you to be their hero. Larger than life. But then you go and remind us, remind me, that you’re fallible. Mortal. You don’t get to do that. You carry all the burdens of the world. I can’t add to that but I can wish -”

Mahanon wished he could take his lover into his arms and tell him all the things that had run through his head. How he had been more worried about the reaction of the man at his side than about the future of the world. He held his tongue, gently rubbing Dorian’s fingers with his thumbs.

“That demon screamed and I thought, this is it. This is where I finally lose him. I saw you fall and everything changed. You slipped away and I was all alone.” Finally making eye contact, Mahanon could see his fear as plain as day. “Look at me lecturing you like a Mother. You’ve done this to me, you know. Made me a sentimental fool.”

“I was scared, too,” Mahanon interrupted softly, dropping all pretense. “So many things could have gone differently but it doesn’t matter, because I’m here. I’m alive. Ar lath ma vhenan. There’s nothing I won’t do to stay at your side.”

“There you go with those pretty words.” Dorian blinked back his tears and gave him a wobbly smile. “Be careful making promises like that, amatus. Something might overhear you and try to make you prove it.”

“They’ll have to get in line then.” Mahanon kissed his fingers again. “I hear it's quite long already.”

“I suppose it is.” Dorian chuckled despite himself and shook his head. “Never thought there would come a day in my life I’d be thankful for blood magic. Try not to make a habit of that trick, hmm? Don’t go where I can’t follow. My heart can’t take it.”

~

Passing the game along with no obligation to @pedlimwen, @in-arlathan, @mogwaei, and anyone else who wants to play. Your words, should you choose to accept them, are dark, tear, and/or laugh.

#my writing #solas #varric #inquisitor lavellan #dorian #sera #elvhen oc #felassan #word search tag #not dead #just stupid busy

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 11

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí, Su She | Su Minshan, Madam Jin, Jin Zixuan, Wen Qing, Jiāng Fēngmián, Niè Huáisāng

Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective Lan WangJi, Protective Lán Qǐrén, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent Yú Zǐyuān, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression

Summary: Nie Huaisang’s visit.

Notes: See end.

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

AO3 link

----------

Nie Huaisang was thrilled with the fan Wei Ying painted, specifically modeling a Du Shenyan poem, which he had Wangji write in tiny, neat calligraphy in black ink and then had carefully edged with gold leaf:

独有宦游人，偏惊物候新。

云霞出海曙，梅柳渡江春。

淑气催黄鸟，晴光转绿蘋。

忽闻歌古调，归思欲沾巾。

Only to wanderers can come 

Ever new the shock of beauty, 

Of rising clouds at dawn above the sea, 

Of Spring in river side plum and willow-tree. 

Orioles are urged to sing in warm air, 

And green-clad duckweed in the sun looks fair.

An old tune suddenly sung to my ears 

Fills my heart with home and my eyes with tears.

The background was of red and white clouds, the foreground a golden oriole alighting on a willow branch with a nearby sprig of plum blossoms, over water running through duckweed, the oriole’s reflection even faintly in the water, a blur of gold. 

Though simply rendered, the quality of the brushstrokes and sheer artistry showed unparalleled skill on Wei Ying’s part, especially for having been painted in only a few hours. 

“Wei-xiong, this is the loveliest fan I have ever received,” Nie Huaisang murmured, his voice appropriately reverent. 

Wei Ying, never good with a compliment, giggled awkwardly, using the bunny fan to hide his face. 

“Wei Ying is talented,” Wangji agreed sedately, just to see him blush. 

“Lan Zhan,” he whined, “you have to warn me!”

“Mm. Gave an ongoing warning.”

He huffed at him, but was immediately mollified when Wangji placed a bunny in his lap. 

“Honestly, Wei-xiong, you could make a good deal of money with just your talent for painting, though I hear you’re making quite a bit with your amazing talismans—dage is here in part to purchase some for our use.”

Nie Huaisang was still distracted by the fan, still focused on the art, and didn't see Wei Ying’s surprise—it should be no surprise to him, given his recent commission by Jin-furen, but Wangji knew the treatment he suffered since childhood stunted his sense of self-worth.

Before Wangji could find words beyond simply repeating the fact that his betrothed was talented, a voice rang out across the clearing, announcing the arrival of the Jiang siblings. 

“We thought you might be here,” Jiang Yanli called, only barely skirting the rule against yelling, “since this is Xianxian’s favorite place in the Cloud Recesses.”

Jiang Wanyin looked surly enough to imply more happened after their departure, and Wangji is again thankful for Nie Huaisang’s intervention that enabled Wei Ying’s escape. 

Nie Huaisang waved his new fan at them, smiling merrily. 

“It’s a lovely location for painting. Look what Wei-xiong made for me—it’s my new favorite! Everyone will wonder who painted such a masterpiece, and they’ll all want to commission him.”

“Aiya, Nie-xiong,” Wei Ying said with a shy smile. “I don’t need fame.”

“His talismans are making plenty of fame and tael for him,” Jiang Wanyin chimed in. “Chifeng-Zun didn’t even haggle.”

Nie Huaisang huffed at the idea. 

“That would be insulting—dage knows good wares when he sees them, and he’s willing to pay.”

That fact had not stopped some sects from trying to haggle down prices, Wangji knew, but he was happy Nie Mingjue knew their worth. Xiongzhang had even convinced the elders to decrease the Lan sect’s portion of the proceeds; he hadn’t been there for the argument, but he knew it had touched upon his work ethic despite his near-death and the fact that he had received next to nothing from sales of his talismans from the Jiang sect, with Yu-furen arguing he owed it to them for his care. 

“We all missed lunch,” Jiang Yanli said, slipping closer and patting Wei Ying’s arm. “Fortunately, I’ve had soup simmering since just after breakfast, and it should be perfect now. Will you be joining us, Nie-gongzi?”

The snacks Nie Huaisang had kindly shared had helped, but Wangji knew Wei Ying needed to eat a proper lunch, and he was getting hungry again as well. 

“Your soup is something Wei-xiong waxed poetic about the entire Gusu lecture—second only to Lan-er-gongzi—so absolutely!”

“Nie-xiong!” Wei Ying sputtered, a blush blossoming on his cheeks.

Wangji could feel the heat of his own ears reddening, as well, and was relieved when Jiang Yanli took over the conversation to insist the painting supplies be packed up so they could head to the Jiang quarters for lunch.

In short order, they reached the guest house and Jiang Wanyin opened the ward to let them in. While Jiang Yanli headed to the kitchen to serve lunch, Nie Huaisang engaged Wei Ying in conversation about the locking talisman, and Jiang Wanyin suggested they help his sister and make tea—it seemed clear he wanted to say something outside of his brother’s hearing, and perhaps she did as well. 

“A-Die made a big deal about A-Xian leaving,” he started, his voice much quieter than usual, “and Nie-zongzhu was… very direct.”

Good, Wangji couldn’t help thinking; Jiang-zongzhu needed some directness, and it couldn’t come from his children or Wei Ying, or even Wangji himself, though sometimes he imagined what he wished to say. 

“He said a-die was just as much at fault for what happened, since he never stopped a-niang’s abuse,” Jiang Yanli added softly. “And that he’d be lucky if people were willing to let their children become Jiang sect disciples with the reputation of… of the furen attempting to murder disciples.”

Wangji knew how direct Nie Mingjue could be, but that level of directness was more than he had expected. 

“He was just a bit more diplomatic,” Jiang Wanyin said. “Mentioned that if any disciples felt uncomfortable in the Jiang sect he could send them to the Nie.”

That was, if possible, less diplomatic than the blunt honesty about getting new disciples, almost implying that Yu-furen’s behavior couldn’t have been limited to Wei Ying, though Wangji and the Jiang siblings knew that she had targeted only him. 

“When a-die protested, he said that if he was really A-Xian’s shushu, he would have been protected, and that it was shameless for him to have asked to be regarded as an uncle after he failed to perform as one.”

Wangji did not envy xiongzhang’s position, nor shufu’s, in whatever might need to be done to keep the peace as the host sect; for Nie-zongzhu, a generation younger than Jiang-zongzhu even if he was as the same rank, to deliver such a scathing rebuke was a diplomatic nightmare, especially with a meeting having been interrupted improperly. 

“Then Lan-xiansheng told him that it was better for A-Xian’s recovery not to meet with him anymore,” Jiang Yanli said, her voice relieved. “A-Die didn’t protest.”

He would have no grounds to protest; he had no ties to Wei Ying, no longer his guardian or sect leader. While it wasn’t unheard of for sect leaders to be denied access to the disciples of other sects, it had generally only been used in this generation to avoid allowing Jin Guangshan in the vicinity of any female disciples, or even servants. No one had told Jin-zongzhu of this arrangement, and he often loudly complained of the lack of beauties. 

“A-Cheng and I told him we will need to take turns when we have to meet with him, so we can continue chaperoning you. A-Die didn’t say anything when we mentioned you were courting, either.”

Xiongzhang had sent out announcements to the sects on the sworn siblinghood that linked the Jiang and (now) Lan sects, and had included an announcement of Wangji’s betrothal to Wei Ying, so Jiang-zongzhu was not unaware. Silence on the matter from him was fine; that silence was probably better for Wei Ying, in fact. It was possible the Jiang sect leader would have words for xiongzhang and shufu rather than his children, but regardless, what he felt on the matter was irrelevant. Hopefully the man would finally realize that, but if not Wangji would insist Wei Ying not be made to meet with him anymore. 

There was a lapse in conversation in the next room before Nie Huaisang asked Wei Ying a question about painting techniques. But it was clear their extended absence was being noticed.

Jiang Yanli handed him a tureen of soup and several bowls and Jiang Wanyin the finished tea, indicating the furtive conversation was finished, and ushered them out while carrying several side dishes. Nie Huaisang shot Wangji a knowing look before exclaiming over the dishes and the aroma of spices, proclaiming he was thrilled not to have to sit through a bland Lan meal.

The meal was, as all meals with the Jiangs were, not silent, and Nie Huaisang was only too glad to add to the conversation, sometimes interrupting his own thoughts to compliment Jiang Yanli’s cooking and earning pleased smiles from her and her siblings.

“Honestly, dage doesn’t know what he’s missing—sometimes I wonder if he has taste buds at all.”

“Maybe I should cook for him,” Wei Ying mused, and was immediately greeted by a chorus of “No!”

“You’d spice him into a qi deviation, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Wanyin said, stealing a pork rib from his plate.

Wangji casually replaced it with one from his own bowl, and was rewarded with a too-rare brilliant smile that made him feel warm inside. This, too, garnered a knowing look from Nie Huaisang, but a fond one from Jiang Yanli and a scowl he had learned held no malice from Jiang Wanyin.

The rest of the meal was passed with Nie Huaisang telling the story of how he caught the most recent bird in his aviary, which somehow involved an angry yao squirrel that took offense to his proximity to its nest. Though he had ultimately caught the bird he was stalking, it had been at the cost of scratches, and in his panic at one point he had bludgeoned the yao with the edge of his fan so hard it had dropped from the branch and died in the fall. 

“It was my first successful kill, but it wasn’t even on purpose or with my saber, so dage couldn’t decide whether to be proud or disappointed.”

Nie Huaisang took a sip of tea, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“Though that may have been in part because I insisted it was my duty to raise the pups, since I killed their mother. I only just released them back into the wild. I would’ve kept them, but they got into everything, the little thieves.”

The comment set Wei Ying giggling, leading Jiang Yanli to tell the story of the time he and Jiang Wanyin found an injured baby jumping mouse and nursed it back to health. Even though they had agreed to release it once it was old enough, Jiang Wanyin had secretly kept it, carrying it around in his robes and sneaking it tidbits during meals. 

“And then the Jins visited Lotus Pier,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And just as the soup course was served, the mouse escaped his robes and hopped across the room right into Jin-zongzhu’s bowl.”

It was amazing, Wangji thought as he imagined the scene, just how often Jin Guangshan wound up in these sorts of situations; this one was at least guaranteed to be accidental, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there was some sort of plot involving embarrassing the man as much as possible. 

“Turned out he isn’t fond of mice,” Wei Ying contributed with a little smile as Nie Huaisang broke into giggles, “judging from his shriek and the way he threw the bowl of soup across the room.”

The mouse had escaped back to Jiang Wanyin, who snuck out in the chaos that followed and took it outside and to a field off the main pier to release it finally. 

“No one figured out where it came from, so it was considered a freak incident,” Jiang Yanli finished, which Wangji took to mean it hadn’t been blamed on Wei Ying. “And we just kept it to ourselves and laughed over soup later.”

“It was a really friendly mouse,” Jiang Wanyin said, sounding a little wistful. 

Wangji recommended he visit the rabbits more, figuring he could at least enjoy them in his time in the Cloud Recesses, and was surprised when Jiang Wanyin actually smiled at him. 

As the afternoon went on, Jiang Yanli brought out Osmanthus cakes and a new pot of tea, and Nie Huaisang recounted their day painting and showed off the fan Wei Ying had painted, basking in their compliments as though it was his own work, but also tugging Wei Ying’s sleeve with each to encourage him to take them to heart. 

When evening approached, Jiang Yanli retreated to the kitchen to start dinner, Jiang Wanyin joining her to help chop vegetables for what would undoubtedly be soup and a variety of side dishes—Wangji had learned most of her meals included soup, which was especially welcome as the weather shifted toward autumn, as she seemed aware of the need for yang foods. Meanwhile, Nie Huaisang continued regaling Wei Ying with stories of bird-catching. 

“So this is where you’ve been,” a voice interrupted from the door.

Wangji turned to find xiongzhang and Nie Mingjue standing in the doorway. He could feel the way Wei Ying’s breathing increased beside him, and knew the sudden interruption had startled him—and given he was already overtaxed…

“You did good, Huaisang, getting Wei Wuxian out of there,” Nie Mingjue continued, “and I’m glad you’ve spent time with your friends.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes darted toward Wei Ying, and then he was on his feet, showing his brother the fan Wei Ying had painted for him and gushing about the brushwork. It was a move clearly calculated to allow time for Wei Ying to process, and Wangji was left wondering if Nie Huaisang had read the same books he had about mind healing; he was reasonably certain the answer was yes, but his peer would never admit to it, preferring his indolent mask. 

Jiang Yanli came from the kitchen to check on her brother, placing orange slices in his hand, and after eating it automatically, his eyes focused on them again. 

“I apologize for the interruption,” xiongzhang said softly. “Mingjue wanted to check in with his brother before dinner.”

“Oh, I assumed he would eat with us,” Jiang Yanli said, then exchanged a look with Wei Ying, a silent conversation. “As it happens, I’ve made a larger meal than I intended—won’t you and Nie-zongzhu stay and eat with us?”

“I don’t wish to impose if it would be a detriment to Wei-gongzi’s health,” Nie Mingjue said gently. “No one will be offended if that is the case—you’ve been through quite enough today.”

Wei Ying shook his head, leaning slightly against Wangji as though for his support, but looking determined. 

“I’ll be okay, thank you.”

“Jiang-guniang’s cooking is just as good as Wei-xiong and Jiang-xiong always said it was, maybe even better,” Nie Huaisang gushed, dragging his brother to sit next to him. 

Xiongzhang settled in a spot between Nie Mingjue and the absent Jiang Wanyin, still in the kitchen, and Jiang Yanli joined him and sent him out with wood ear mushroom salad, tea eggs, and shaved potato salad—this with chili oil on the side to account for non-Yunmeng palates.

Wei Ying stayed quiet, but ate whatever Wangji put in his bowl, and was clearly listening to the conversation xiongzhang was leading about the various talismans Nie Mingjue was interested in purchasing. 

“You have an understanding of talismans that has to be nearly unprecedented, Wei-gongzi,” Chifeng-Zun said once Xichen had run through the list. “The talisman you created for revitalizing overtaxed soil was particularly genius—few cultivators seem to remember the needs of the common folk.”

The needs of the common folk were something of a passion for Wei Ying, Wangji knew, and he had ideas for further talismans that could be activated without need for spiritual energy that would benefit more than the gentry, for purposes beyond night hunting. 

“Thank you, Chifeng-Zun,” he murmured, a flush spreading across his face. “I have more talismans in development, and more ideas I’d like to explore.”

Wangji was pleased when Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue kept the conversation going, with xiongzhang’s help, asking about Wei Ying’s projects and ideas. He could feel the tension bleed from Wei Ying, as he’s certain it was meant to. The conversation lasts until the Jiangs have finished bringing out the plates of dishes and a large tureen of soup—the mushroom, parsnip, and pork ribs one Jiang Yanli had created, he noticed. Other dishes included dumplings, likely with the pork xiongzhang had replaced as promised, noodles with fish balls and greens, a large bowl of a delicious-looking array of stir fried vegetables, and another meat dish—either pork or chicken—in a sauce that was likely too spicy for him, but which everyone else would likely enjoy. 

Jiang Wanyin served tea while Jiang Yanli served soup, the open tureen filling the air with fragrant steam, and for a few minutes conversation was stalled in favor of eating until Nie Mingjue led a round of compliments on the dishes, and the chatter picked back up. 

The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, companionable, and even though Wangji didn’t partake in the conversation, sticking to the rule, he was happy to see Wei Ying relaxed, to imprint to memory moments when the conversation led him to laugh, a look of free joy on his face, too rare since the incident at Lotus Pier.

After dinner, Jiang Yanli served an assortment of cakes and tarts, praising the Cloud Recesses library and its collection of recipe books—something Wangji had not known existed—and they enjoyed them with tea. At some point Wei Ying’s hand found his, and Wangji rubbed his thumb along the back of Wei Ying’s hand soothingly, uncertain whether he needed the comfort but happy to oblige him with touch even if he didn’t. The conversation stretched until nearly hai shi, when xiongzhang and the Nies excused themselves, thanking them for their hospitality. 

The thanks Wangji tried to give for the meal was waved off by Jiang Yanli. 

“Lan-er-gongzi, you are to be family; there is no need for thanks among family.”

With their guests gone, Wei Ying sagged against him, clearly wrung out by the day. It seemed very much as though he had become more of an introvert since the events at Lotus Pier, sapped by interaction instead of gaining energy from it as he once had—just one more way the trauma had changed him.

Wangji put an arm around Wei Ying as he slipped further, wilting like a flower under too much sun.

Jiang Wanyin rounded the table to help Wei Ying up, then bundled him toward the partitions that separated the eating area from the beds, and Wangji made himself useful helping Jiang Yanli gather the empty dishes and clean up. 

“Jiang-guniang, as we are to be family, please call me Wangji.”

“Then you must call me Yanli,” she replied with a pleased smile. 

They were nearly finished cleaning up when Jiang Wanyin joined them in the kitchen. 

“He’s talking about returning to his rooms, like he feels he’s expected to, like he’s got something to prove,” he muttered darkly. “But until we root out the bastard doing this, it’s safer for him here.”

“Agreed,” Wangji said, frowning a bit. 

He hated that Wei Ying still felt he needed to put on an appearance of being fine when he wasn’t, that one of the impacts of all of this was him attempting to show strength even when he needed help and comfort. 

“I think…” Jiang Yanli started, then paused, her expression troubled. “I think even if he does, it should be to different quarters—I know they were searched, but even if they’re clear, a fresh start would be good for him.”

“Ask him to stay,” Wangji told them softly. “He thinks himself a burden, and must be asked.”

Jiang Wanyin grimaced but nodded agreement with his assessment, and Jiang Yanli’s jaw clenched at the idea. 

“We’ll tell him,” she said. “We’ll insist. His new clothing is all here, and all of his projects can be worked on here, and he does much better when he’s not alone, when he’s safe.”

The bell rang in the distance, a warning that hai shi was approaching, and the Jiang siblings assured him they would finish cleaning up.

“I’ll walk with you to take A-Xian to his music lesson in the morning, as I need to stop by the kitchen for a few ingredients for breakfast, and of course you’ll eat with us after. Rest well, Lan-er—ah, I mean, Wangji.”

The night air was cool, and the bird calls of the daylight hours had given way to the call of night insects and frogs, as Wangji made his way back to the Jingshi, by wishing the tranquility of the Cloud Recesses would ease the turmoil and frustration in his heart that Wei Ying was not yet safe, that considerations needed to be made to protect him still. 

Though he took the time to meditate before bed, it would take much longer for him to fall asleep, his worries keeping his mind swirling far past his normal sleeping hours. 

---------

Note: the translation of the Du Shenyan poem is a combination of two translations. The first two lines of the translation are by one translator, and the rest are by another. The duckweed wasn’t specified in the first translation, just a general water plant. I looked up other translations to be sure it wasn’t a lotus. 

Didn’t have a lot of time over break for writing, aside from working on my WangXian Winter Solstice gift fic. I had hot pot and dumplings for the solstice with a small group, and that was the extent of my holiday celebrations. I hope everyone got time to relax. 

New semester has started and over 10% of my students are quarantined. Nothing like stress to ratchet up the desire for escapism!

Thanks to my amazing betas, adrian_kres and erebus.arts!

#the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #CQL #chen qing ling #nie huaisang #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #wangxian #lan wangji #jiang wanyin #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #lan xichen #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #cql fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #mdzs fic #untamed fanfic #untamed fic #my fanfiction