#Happy belated birthday Lan Zhan!!

[immacaria]

Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

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It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

#sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #happy belated birthday huaisang dear #fluff #light angst #due jc's anxiety and overthinking #nie mingjue #lan xichen #meng yao #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mianmian #luo qingyang #jin zixuan #wen ning #jiang yanli #jin ling #jiang cheng x nie huaisang #nie huaisang x jiang cheng #nie bros #jiang siblings #twins jades of lan

[robininthelabyrinth]

The core transfer resulted in a soulbond between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, but it was one sided until Wei Wuxian came back and cultivated a second core. 💙💙💙💙 you’re the best happy birthday and thanks for being a consistently am

“Did you know,” Wei Wuxian said to Lan Wangji, who arched an eyebrow, “that Mo Xuanyu never actually completed core formation?”

Lan Wangji looked surprised.

“I know!” Wei Wuxian said, and shook his head. “What are the chances of that? The poor kid must have really been neglected by Lanling Jin if he couldn’t even do that – even Nie Huaisang formed a core eventually. Even Jin Guangyao did!”

Lan Wangji nodded in solemn agreement. “Are you planning to consolidate it now, then?”

“Naturally! I’m planning on being stuck with you for a long time, Lan Zhan; you can’t get rid of me now.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes curved a little. “Mm,” he said. “What about the possibility of a soulbond?”

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Really, Lan Zhan? Worried? The chances of that are infinitesimal.”

“…mm.”

“Anyway, a soulbond isn’t anything compared to what we have. But if you’re feeling insecure, I could always spend a few days reminding you of my affection before I focus on consolidating the core…”

“I am very insecure,” Lan Wangji said with a straight face, and swept a laughing Wei Wuxian into his arms to carry him back to bed.

As might have been expected, this put something of a delay in Wei Wuxian’s plans.

Still, since he did intend to live a good long life with Lan Wangji now that they had the chance, Wei Wuxian eventually decided to enter into secluded cultivation for a month in order to finalize the process. Secluded cultivation wasn’t strictly necessary, of course – it wasn’t typically practiced by the Jiang sect – but Wei Wuxian decided it was appropriate here. After all, if he didn’t go into seclusion, he would keep being distracted by the constant availability of Lan Wangji, who persisted in doing such enticing things as walk, sit, stand, and exist.

Also because dual cultivation couldn’t be used to form a golden core, which was a pity, because otherwise he’d be done already. If there was one thing he and Lan Wangji didn’t stint on, it was definitely dual cultivation.

At any rate, Wei Wuxian went in to the nice room prepared by the Lan sect for just that purpose and he cultivated and he didn’t think one bit about soulbonds.

It wasn’t something that mattered to him.

Stories about soulbonds varied wildly – probably as much as the souls who had them.

Some people said it was like suddenly knowing someone was yours, a moment of recognition you could never forget; others that the connection made you think of someone, always, feeling an echoing of their feelings in your heart, no matter whether you wanted to or not. Most agreed that it was not, as many fantastical stories told by commoners would have it, a literal bond, a way to communicate mind-to-mind even from a distance; such a thing would be far too convenient.

Wei Wuxian was glad for that, as he’d never liked the idea of having someone in his head. Not even Lan Wangji, who he firmly believed to be his soulmate – much less some stranger who happened to have a soul that met the unknowable criteria to match your core.

He’d never wanted a soulbond.

Naturally, challenging the fates, when he finally finished his secluded cultivation to condense his golden core, he abruptly became aware that he had one.

With Jiang Cheng.

After a few moments of bewildered cursing, it occurred to Wei Wuxian that that made sense. After all, a soulbond was a core echoing a soul, or a soul echoing a core; naturally he would have an echo with the core that he had cultivated himself and then given up.

The explanation satisfied him right up until he realized, with an abrupt and horrible sinking feeling, that that would have always been true.

His core with his soul.

His core – in Jiang Cheng’s body – with his soul.

Jiang Cheng would have had the soulbond from all the way back then, his thoughts inescapably full of Wei Wuxian, and he wouldn’t have known why. He might have thought it some belated trick of luck, or perhaps had not even thought too hard about it at all.

He might have been happy about it. After all that loss, the universe had returned something to him – that the man he had always considered his brother was now recognized as such by the heavens – that it was a sign that they would truly have a chance to become the twin heroes that Wei Wuxian had promised him…

Wei Wuxian left seclusion with a pale face, causing the worried juniors to immediately ask if he’d suffered some sort of qi deviation only to be waved off.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, once his lover had glared away anyone else and taken him into his arms. “Lan Zhan, I think I made a terrible mistake.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #short one this time

[kikotsukino]

Happy (belated) Birthday Lan Zhan! 🥰

Enjoy your precious time with Wei Ying 💗

#mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #figure i received recently #lan zhan birthday post

[alipeeps]

Wei Ying’s expression is tight and unhappy, his entire body held rigidly away from Lan Zhan.

He doesn’t look at Lan Zhan as he says, “You don’t have to worry, Lan Zhan, I’m never going to touch you.”

The distaste in Wei Ying’s voice makes Lan Zhan’s blood run cold.

“Just because our families have arranged this marriage, we don’t have to be together… like that…” Wei Ying’s mouth twists unpleasantly. “It can be a marriage in name only. A…” he swallows, looking like he might be sick, “…a business arrangement.”

———

So hey @sarah-yyy, I only went and wrote you a fic!

This was 100% inspired by your awesome WB-verse fics because it turns out angsty mutual pining/misunderstanding is like 1000% my jam and I love your stories so much! This was meant to be a birthday fic for you but it is horrendously late because, yet again, it turns out I am congenitally incapable of being concise! I would love to be able to craft short, perfectly-worded, feels-inducing ficlets the way you do but I just can’t, no matter how I try. So here, have 10,000 words of mutual pining angst instead! :D

This fic was also based on a prompt from a list of Arranged Marriage prompts (which I have promptly lost!) and the prompt I chose from the list was “You don’t have to worry, I’m never going to touch you.”

It should be noted that I don’t write ship fic. Like, ever. I write whump. I have verrrrry occasionally written smut. And I have once written fluff. I have never written an actual ship fic and I blame the fact that I am now doing so entirely on a) The Untamed, b) Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan, and c) you! :D

I also need to thank @stebeee for cheering me on with this fic when it seemed like it would never end and for giving it a speedy partial beta-read for me. :)

Anyway, happy belated birthday hon, I hope you enjoy the fic.

#the untamed #fanfic #my fanfic #wangxian #angst #mutual pining #arranged marriage #two idiots in love both thinking the other doesn't like them that way #modern au #gaaaad this fic has consumed my life #also my house got flooded for the second time in 4 sodding years this weekend #and everything is a mess #but finishing this fic at least gave me something to focus on #and take my mind off the stress!

[jadedbirch]

Wangxian, sometime well after the end of the show, for the kiss prompt, Under the stars, Celebration

I read this and decided you want something sappy and disgusting. I hope I was correct!  Happy belated birthday <3

***********

The moon is a perfect semi-circle in the night sky when Wei Wuxian looks up from the peak of Dafan Mountain. Lan Wangji stands next to him, his face also turned upwards, his gaze caressing the moon like a long-lost friend. He is luminous as the moon itself, the soft, silver threads of light making him look ethereal. It’s been almost ten years since their wedding, and Lan Wangji still takes Wei Wuxian’s breath away. Sometimes, he still cannot believe he is allowed to simply reach out and touch him, knowing that he will never be denied, that Lan Wangji will turn towards him like a flower facing the sun. Sometimes, he is fiercely jealous even of the moonlight caressing his husband’s face, even of the wind that plays carelessly in his husband’s silken hair.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says softly, afraid to disturb the perfect stillness of the moment. As if compelled, Lan Wangji’s hand immediately reaches for his own, the drag of his thumb against Wei Wuxian’s skin makes his blood heave and his veins swell, as if every part of him needs to be closer to the one who holds his heart. “Are you going to tell me why we’ve come here?”

Lan Wangji’s face turns to him, like the half-moon now by itself, the shadow side in contrast to the silver light that makes one of his eyes glow with an almost preternatural light. His eyes are like jewels, pure ember in the sunlight, hematite in the moonlight. Wei Wuxian wants to kiss his eyelids. Even now, the tenderness in his heart is so overwhelming, that at times he wishes he could set it aside, examine it as if it were its own sentient thing, to see if he could even recognize himself without it. He cannot imagine his heart without his husband encased permanently inside its tender folds.

Lan Wangji’s lips fold themselves into a gentle smile. “Wei Ying has always had a terrible memory,” he teases. He pulls Wei Wuxian down to the grass and sits in the lotus position, their fingers still entwined, neither one of them wanting to break contact. “I got you something,” Lan Wangji says and Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up. He’s long learned to accept that he married the biggest romantic in the world. For every word that Lan Wangji utters, there are a thousand words that he thinks, a kaleidoscope of feelings just beneath the surface of that fine jade skin. Lan Wangji has the soul of a poet, but Wei Wuxian is the only one in the world who is the keeper of this secret.

Read the rest on AO3

Kissing Prompts

#fic #wangxian #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #prompt fill #so gross™ #significanceofmoths

[queenmorgawse]

bang bang, there goes your heart

here’s some modern / espionage au sangcheng as a somewhat belated birthday gift for @hua-lian !! once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JY, ilysm and i hope you enjoy this. <3 ( read on ao3 + end notes )

For the eighteenth time in the span of twenty-four hours, Jiang Cheng asks himself how the hell he ended up here — stuffed in a janitor’s closet, with his heart racing in his chest and about two inches of breathing room between his face and Nie Huaisang’s.

It begins, as all disastrous stories do, with a dare from Jiang Cheng’s idiotic brother.

“You wouldn’t have the guts.”

“Like hell I wouldn’t.”

In retrospect, it really is laughably easy to get Jiang Cheng to do anything, especially when your name is Wei Wuxian and even a slight smirk from you can be enough to send him spiraling downward into an ocean of spite. It’s like they’re eight, not twenty-eight.

The mission isn’t even anything complicated. Get in, socialize, wheedle the right information out of the right people, plant a few cameras and microphones here and there, get out. ( Wei Wuxian is not actually dumb enough to suggest they pull this kind of stunt during an assignment that requires their full focus, much as Jiang Cheng hates to admit it. )

“You’ve got to go together anyway, don’t you?” His brother flutters his lashes at him, and any charitable thought towards him Jiang Cheng might have entertained immediately vanishes from his head. “Why not as a couple?”

“What am I getting out of it?” Jiang Cheng grits out. After twenty years of knowing each other, he’s learned to exploit an opportunity when he can.

“If you do it, Lan Zhan and I will do it next time we have to be undercover together,” Wei Wuxian declares, and Jiang Cheng snorts.

“With you? Like he’d let you.” If he’s being honest with himself, he’ll admit that one was mostly to get a rise out of the other. Lan Wangji will definitely let him pass as his fake boyfriend, fiancé, husband, whatever he asks of him, a fact obvious to all but the interested party.

Whatever. It’s not the point. If they go, Wei Wuxian might finally clue in on Lan Wangji’s feelings, and then Jiang Cheng will (hopefully) be free of his oblivious pining. What’s one evening of pretending against that?

“Fine!” he snaps, and Wei Wuxian’s face lights up. “I’ll do it, but only if Nie Huaisang agrees.”

“I doubt he wouldn’t,” the other retorts, intently checking out his own nails. “You’ve got to change your personality for this thing, which is clearly your most disagreeable trait, so once that’s done, anyone would jump on the chance of going on a not-date with you.”

Jiang Cheng launches himself across the desk at him.

-

The evening even started out well. No one even glanced twice at their forged invitations, the appetizers weren’t half bad, and Nie Huaisang clearly charmed at least one of the targets they were supposed to. Everything goes exactly according to plan, until Jiang Cheng spots an unfortunately familiar set of faces across the room and swears under his breath.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says with the most convincing smile he can, crossing the room and tugging at Nie Huaisang’s elbow. “Darling,” the pet name leaves a strange taste on his mouth, though not an unpleasant one, “can we walk out for a minute? Family emergency.”

The lady across from them makes sympathetic noises and waves away Nie Huaisang’s apologies. Jiang Cheng watches him deliver a few more carefully chosen lines about how sorry he is and how he’ll be delighted to bask in the light of her company again when their business is taken care of before he lets himself be led away.

“What is it?” Huaisang asks the moment they’re out of earshot.

Jiang Cheng jerks his chin towards the entrance, where a commotion is visibly kicking up some metaphorical dust. “Wen Chao, some new girl of his and Wen Zhuliu just got here.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widen. “What? Qishan didn’t notify us.”

“When do they ever tell us anything important?”

“...Good point. What do we do?”

Jiang Cheng only hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Lie low, tell the boss so they can take it up with Qishan themselves, and follow what they’re doing on the cameras we already placed. Wen Chao won’t give a shit about the Five’s agreement, he’ll definitely be an asshole and expose us if he recognizes us.”

He doesn’t voice the more pessimistic possibility : that this is indeed something none of the other four central offices know of, and Qishan Wen has its own agenda in sending its own agents here without warning them. It could be nothing, just Wen Ruohan’s usual pride in assuming he doesn’t have to notify anyone else of his will if he doesn’t want to, or - knowing the Wen patriarch - it could be suspicious.

It’s not Jiang Cheng’s place to decide. The best he can do is not compromise their mission, report to the higher-ups, and comply with what they’ll do.

“I hate them so much,” Nie Huaisang sighs, and though his tone is merely annoyed, Jiang Cheng is reminded of Nie Mingjue’s usual fits of rage whenever Qishan’s central office is involved.  

“Ditto,” Jiang Cheng echoes. They exchange an exasperated look, several years’ worth of disagreement flashing through their heads, before Jiang Cheng sighs and offers Nie Huaisang his arm again. Together, they sweep out of the ballroom unseen.

-

For such a majestic place, the museum certainly lacks spacious, empty rooms. Oh, Jiang Cheng does not doubt that there are offices aplenty in parts of the building that aren’t accessible to the public, with locks that would be laughably easy to pick, but the only cameras they’ve managed to place so far have a ridiculously small range. Which leads them here, now ⎯ crammed together in a closet, with the light of Jiang Cheng’s phone between them and not much room for anything else.

He’s uncomfortably aware of Nie Huaisang’s presence, from his quiet breathing to the flowery smell of his cologne. When he tries to move, they knock together once again, an awkward tangle of limbs in the dark.

Nie Huaisang takes a sharp breath.

“That is indeed a gun in my pocket,” Jiang Cheng hisses before he can add anything.

He must have gotten it right, as in the glare of his screen, the other’s mischievous look turns into one of disappointment. “Jiang-xiong, if you ruin my jokes before I even get the chance to tell them, what am I to do?”

“Get a better sense of humor,” he snaps back, ignoring the flush creeping up his neck at the way Nie Huaisang’s lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks.

“How rude.” Jiang Cheng can feel him tilting forward. Deliberately closer, he tells himself. He’s just teasing you. Still, it’s hard to keep his thoughts in order when Nie Huaisang quite literally leans on his chest, his face now just a breath away from Jiang Cheng’s. “Don’t I even get an apology?”

Maybe it’s because of his nerves. Maybe tension has been running through him like electricity through a wire for the past hour, and something had to take the edge off. Or maybe it’s the warm weight of the arm Nie Huaisang has slung around his neck, his general proximity, and the fact that Jiang Cheng has kissed him once at a drunken college party and lived from that point onwards with the knowledge that perhaps, just perhaps, he wanted to do it again.

Regardless of the reasons why, here is what happens : Jiang Cheng tilts Nie Huaisang’s chin up and presses his mouth against his.

Nie Huaisang makes a little surprised noise and goes boneless in his arms. It only lasts an instant ⎯ before Jiang Cheng can overthink his decision and jerk away, Huaisang is the one grabbing him by the collar and bringing their lips together again. They crash against the back wall of the closet, Jiang Cheng’s arm coming up around the other man’s waist to brace the fall.

“Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang breathes, like he’s discovering it for the first time. Jiang Cheng finds he likes the way it sounds on his tongue, soft and breathy, like something to be held dear rather than carelessly thrown around.

He should say something. Explain. Ask him, is that alright?, even though it must be, given the enthusiasm with which Nie Huaisang reciprocated, tell him he’s been thinking about this an embarrassing lot. But Jiang Cheng has never been good at juggling with words, especially when they matter as much as they do now, so instead, he runs his fingers through the loose strands escaping from Nie Huaisang’s bun and kisses him again.

He loses track of time ⎯ the only thing that matters then is the warm touch of Nie Huaisang’s lips on his jaw, on his neck. He makes a sound he would be way too embarrassed to let anyone here in different circumstances, but Huaisang doesn’t point it out, only seems to take it as encouragement.

Then Jiang Cheng’s earpiece, so far carefully tucked under his hair, crackles, and both of them are brutally jerked back to reality.

“A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli’s voice on the other end of the line instantly sobers him up. “Are you alright? We reached Qishan’s office and demanded an explanation, they should be removing their agents now.”

Next to him, Nie Huaisang has also recovered, as straight-faced as someone who was not making out in a random closet just a few seconds ago. He swipes Jiang Cheng’s phone out of his hand and flips through the cameras before nodding his assent. “Gone,” he confirms. “Or at least I can’t see them anymore.”

“Good. Do they know we were there?”

Jiang Yanli chuckles. “Not your names, no. I wish I was there to watch them try to figure out which of the guests were Lotus agents.” She pauses before her voice turns serious again. “Coast’s clear. Go do what you have to do. I sent Nie Huaisang some convenient excuses in case you need to explain what took you so long.

“Thank you, A-jie,” Jiang Cheng says, just as Nie Huaisang echoes with thank you, miss Jiang.

“Good luck, you two.” He can almost feel the smile in her voice before the earpiece goes silent again.

The atmosphere is awkward as they step out of the closet into a mercifully deserted corridor and fix up their clothes. Jiang Cheng’s collar is somewhat rumpled, and he knows without looking his hair must be a mess.

He catches Nie Huaisang looking at him, an amused glint in his golden eyes. “What?”

“You’ve got lipstick on your neck,” Huaisang says dismissively. “Better clean that up quickly.” He taps a finger against his lips (now somewhat smudged themselves), then seems to take pity on Jiang Cheng and pulls a packet of wet wipes out of seemingly nowhere.

“Thanks,” he mutters. The first wipe comes out stained with a dark shade of red.

If he’s blushing, and Nie Huaisang is watching, he might as well end himself here and now.

“We are not talking about this,” is what Jiang Cheng finally settles on. He pairs it with a withering glare, for good measure.

“No, we’re not,” Nie Huaisang agrees, then winks. “Not before I take you out for dinner for real.”

Not for the first time tonight, and - he has a feeling - probably not for the last, Jiang Cheng is left speechless.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #sangcheng #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #kim's fics #hua-lian